#1000Speak -- 1000 bloggers posting about compassion and kindness to flood the Blogosphere with good February 20, 2015. Search for the hashtag and support the cause, please!
I'm one of those teachers who sometimes
(?) takes a roundabout way to get to the point. I don't mind letting
the students get me off topic (sometimes). I love it when they
inadvertently come up with a perfect (or not so perfect) example of
what I want them to understand.
“The point is, and I do have a
point...” I say, steering our totally random discussion towards a
“teachable moment.” I like to think I toss the idea out there,
and just keep ooching, nudging, imperceptibly herding the cats to the
conclusion I'm hoping for (or somewhere near it, anyway).
But I have not yet found a way to lead
them to a meaningful discussion of “compassion.” At least not as
it concerns “virtual” conversations.
I’m amazed at how accepting they are
of other students who are differently-abled. They don't bat an eye
when one of their classmates who has Down Syndrome needs extra help –
they just pitch in and help. For the most part they are (at least
when teachers are around) pretty considerate kids.
I'm not saying they're angels. Oh, my
goodness, no.
Sometimes they (we all) say stupid
things without thinking. And sometimes they say those stupid things
without realizing what they are really saying. Some of those
nasty, hateful words have lost their power, which may or may not be a
good thing. We say them out of habit, without thinking, not to
purposely hurt.
But absence of malice is not the same
thing as compassion.
And while students with learning
disabilities are protected, those with no obvious disadvantage are
fair game. Particularly when it comes to electronic conversations.
During just the past two months at my
school we've had at least four incidents blown totally out of
proportion because the majority of the discussion took place not
face-to-face in the hallway, but thumb-to-thumb on cell-phones.
During the most recent “Twitter-fight”
I channeled the cranky English teacher who hides just below the
surface of my mellow Home Ec teacher facade. I told one class “You
know, back in the day (cue the eye rolls and heavy sighing), if we
had a beef with someone we actually had to (melodramatic gasp for
emphasis) talk to them in the hallway... or maybe write them a nasty
note on real paper and pass it to them during study hall, or
stuff it through the vent on their locker door. We couldn't (ahem),
sit one table away from them during lunch and 'twit' nasty things
back and forth.”
I was hoping for a meaningful
discussion about how we don't talk to each other anymore, we
talk at each other. What I got was a report of the number of
retweets, favorites and subtweets (whatever that means) that sprouted
from the original offending tweet, as well as a defense of Wronged
Party A (and a defense of Wronged Party B from the next class).
What I got was a synopsis of the
actual, real-world fight that could have – but did not – break
out once the twitter-tweeters actually did turn around and
talk to each other.
“My point is,” I said, trying to
herd the cats, “do you think it’s possible that neither one
actually threw a punch because they were having (melodramatic gasp
again) a face-to-face conversation?”
I saw a flicker of comprehension as my
students considered that maybe, just maybe, there were some
things you would tweet without thinking, but you wouldn’t say
in person.
“Adding 'LOL' or 'JK' or a funny face
emoji isn’t the same as the non-verbal communication – the facial
expressions, the vocal inflections, the body language – of a
face-to-face conversation,” I said, pushing the point.
But my students were already on their
cell-phones, checking for updates on the latest drama.
Next time I’ll tweet them the lesson.
JK.
Will you have your own personal # to tag them all?
ReplyDeleteI might have to learn! #behindthecurve
ReplyDelete