[Guest Post] Make It Personal: A Teacher Lights the Way for His Students

Personalized learning came along at the perfect time in my life, like the deus ex machina in an M. Night Shyamalan film.  It all started, as these things often do, just when I was ready to slam closed for good my own cosmic “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.  

Not long ago, I was reflecting on my visit to Marengo Cave and I couldn’t help but think that the experience of those first two kids, hesitantly making their way through that small, scary opening, was not unlike the experience that many of my students bring into my classroom day after day: entering the vast, unknown, terrifying darkness with nothing more than a birthday candle to light the way.

And here I am holding a flashlight.

I didn’t always recognize this.  Not long ago, I was very discouraged.  Today’s students are challenging.  Many of mine seemed disengaged, apathetic, and uninterested in learning.  I felt as if I were being disrespected on a daily basis.  I felt the weight of an arbitrary standardized test bearing down on me.  I felt beaten down.  And to be completely honest, I was ready to give up.  If you think it’ll be better in the suburbs, turn to page 88.  If you want to go work at Home Depot, turn to page 103.

But I don’t like giving up.  I didn’t want to quit, and I certainly didn’t want to feel like a failure.  So I sought the counsel of some trusted colleagues, friends, and family.  What came of these conversations was loud and clear to me: this isn’t my job, it’s my calling. And I wanted more than anything to live up to this calling.  Following a calling is never easy.  In fact, I’d say it’s probably supposed to be hard.  The work of teaching is very challenging, and going to the suburbs wasn’t going to change that fact.  Getting out of education altogether wouldn’t either, because how could I function without summer break?

At the same time I realized that my students needed me.  They needed me not to give up on them.  And they needed me to see them for who they were, beyond the superficial façade of apathy and anger, to the valuable, intelligent, creative little humans that they were.

So I began to look at them with new eyes.  I started to think about my classroom differently.  I wrote songs for them.  I created videos with them.  I planned harder than I ever had and I had more fun than I thought was possible.  The students hadn’t changed, and the environment wasn’t really any different, but what had changed immensely was what was inside of me.  My mindset and attitude were wholly different.

And with all these things already simmering inside of me, personalized learning came along like an adrenaline shot straight to the heart, “Pulp Fiction” style.  The concept seemed so simple, yet it fundamentally changed how I taught.  Within this perfect storm, I now felt as though I had the tools to reach every student.  Personalized learning gave me the courage to try things I’d never tried before.  It caused me to reflect on things I’d long-ago set on the shelf, only to dust them off and give them another go.  It helped me gain realistic expectations of what students should be doing in my classroom, to value their opinions, to decide how they might learn best and to trust them to work together. Best of all, personalized learning challenged my notions of how my classroom should run and what my students were capable of.

I was now more than ever feeling that I was successfully meeting my students where they were, gathering data through exit tickets, digital content, assessments and various other means, and giving them just what they needed.  Each student was able to meet with me in a small group each day, based on their needs.  Each student was exposed to quality digital lessons, tailored to each of them individually based on their own assessments.  Students were becoming more autonomous in their own learning, as well as collaborating more often with their peers.  This took a lot of time and was never perfected, but we were evolving.  We were growing and becoming more comfortable with the flexibility and freedom of personalized learning.

Many of the physical aspects of personalized learning—students talking, moving about the room, working in groups, or choosing how to work—naturally led to much more student engagement and, surprisingly, less disruption of class.  But as things continued to evolve, one thing became increasingly clear: despite the increased engagement and the gradual-release of student autonomy, many students still carried a deep scar of frustration.  The apathy and disinterest wasn’t completely vanquished.  Who knows if it ever can be completely eliminated?  But I began to recognize that I had to reach my students on a much deeper level.  Because I was already conferring with them daily and personalizing their learning, this became not only clear, but mandatory in my mind.  My students came into my classroom carrying some heavy baggage, often too much to think about.  I realized that all along I’d been collecting all sorts of data, but there was this other “data” I’d been ignoring that is just as important: the struggles, experiences, and stories that each of my students bring to my classroom.  And I was awakened to the reality that I’ve got to know not only how their brains work, but what’s on their mind.

Herein lies the biggest challenge for any teacher.  We can’t teach them anything if we don’t have a relationship with them.  This is where it gets truly personal.  I can’t disassociate my teaching from the fact that I’m investing in real-life little human beings. And I can’t possibly make the kind of impact that I need to, either academically or otherwise, if I don’t make it personal.  It’s my personal mission to reach that whole kid, baggage and all.

Near the end of the tour of Marengo Cave, they turned out all the lights so that we could see how truly dark it is in there.  “See” is not really the best word, because it’s like the darkness can be felt—it envelops you and swallows you up. Then they light one small match, just to give you the idea of what those two young kids experienced when they first entered the cave back in 1883.  And you know what?  That little match actually lights up the darkness pretty well.  But I know the majestic beauty and grandeur the cave really holds, of glimmering stalactites and underground rivers.  Knowledge that only comes from the strategically placed floodlights and lamps.

I don’t want my students left in the darkness that settles like a heavy blanket, and I don’t want them to struggle to find their own way with the fragile flame of a puny little match. I’m holding the flashlight that can illuminate their minds to the beauty and majesty of this life.  I’m thankful that personalized learning has given me the courage and ability to share this with all my students.  They all deserve it.

The song “Make It Personal” is meant to encourage all of us in education to live up to the call that has been placed on our lives, and to remind us all of the reasons why this calling is too important to ignore.  I wish you the best on your journey toward making it personal.