There are so many differences in the post-pandemic world that school has just seemed like one of them. Yet, this past summer, as I was prepping and planning, getting excited about the school year, I felt uncertain. This year, I was returning to fully flexible seating after having to move to rows six feet apart during the pandemic, and I was worried that students might not be ready for the experience. I wanted to be the teacher I was five years ago. However, instead of doing the things I know work for kiddos, I fell into the trap of trying to be someone else as a teacher. My plan was to encourage and engage students with water-bottle stickers, candy, a party—whatever it took to get them “back.” The problem, of course, is that there is no going “back.” I needed a way forward, and trying to be someone else just won’t work.
What happened? Actually, not much. I introduced the punch-card system to my students, who seemed at least mildly interested. I used it for maybe two weeks, and then I simply stopped, shoving the adorable punch cards and heart-shaped hole punch (which, incidentally, was exactly what tricked me into buying this system in the first place!) into my drawer and never touched it again. Not a single student asked about it, and until I was cleaning, I’d kind of forgotten about it. But, when I found it, I felt ill at ease. What had I been thinking? As I reflected on my punch-card plan, I recalled spending an afternoon scrolling Teacher TikTok on my back porch over the summer, and I must have thought this was a good idea—some momentary lapse of reason.
Am I opposed to punch cards and reward systems for everyone? Not really. I am, however, opposed to teachers trying to be someone they are not in pursuit of unrealistic results. I won’t say this has been a frequent problem of mine, but this incident really threw me for a loop.I have mentored and taught enough new teachers to have heard the stories of feeling inadequate: the Pinterest classrooms that are difficult to replicate, the elaborate greetings at the door, the doorways that are unbelievably artistic, etc. Teaching is hard enough without feeling the need to be like other teachers who are different from us. My classroom is pretty amazing, but I don’t expect everyone to have flexible seating. It would certainly drive some people crazy. If I had to have a secret handshake for all of my students, I’d have to retire because I’d never remember it.