Category: School

Lois Lowry recently published her 4th and final book in a loose collection of YA novels called the Giver Quartet. The Giver is the most famous and beloved of the four and the one which most frequently appears on middle school required reading lists (including mine). Many people credit The Giver as being a more subtle and artful predecessor to more violent dystopian novels like The Hunger Games.

Regardless, she’s been interviewed a lot lately with the release of her new book. And she had this to say about the main character of her new book who fights evil with empathy.

“The ability to understand other people’s feelings,” Lowry said. “As an encompassing gift that a kid could have — or a human — that could be the one that could save the world. If we could all acquire it to the extent that boy had it, no one would go into a movie theater with a gun.” It’s a powerful lesson, and one that I’m eager for my children — so often so quick to think only of themselves — to learn. It’s surely one I still need to learn. Perhaps these books are for adults after all.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot because empathy is such an important thing to have and such a difficult thing to teach. Sometimes, like last week –when I had to deal with a group of girls who were being mean to each other — I wish I had a giant foam empathy hammer and I could just bonk them over the head with it. So that they could see that the crappy way they feel on the inside is a direct result of the way they treat each other. Until such a tool exists I’ll keep listening and talking and being the best grown-up-type-person I know how to be.

I have some YA writer heroes out there and one of them is A.S. King. In honor of the paper back release of Everybody Sees the Ants, I’m going to tell you why you should read this book and why it made me want to be a better teacher/grown up/human being. At least I’ll try to.  You should really just read the book.

You can read a synopsis of the book here. But I’ll summarize by saying the book is about a young man who’s being bullied.  It’s also about the adults who are well intentioned but unaware of the extent of the abuse he’s experiencing. It’s also about his Grandfather declared MIA in Vietnam and the magical realist dream sequences in which he interacts with his lost Grandfather. It’s a badass book.

Beyond its literary merit Everybody Sees the Ants reminded me that we don’t always see the abuse. As hard as teachers try to be in tune with their students, as hard as parents try to know their kids, as hard as friends try to be there for one another, sometimes things slip through. The result can be disastrous and scarring.  After reading this book I vowed to try harder and follow up when I see students joking, pushing, shoving, and teasing. I have  made more of a point of checking in with students about the true nature of their interactions, and maybe I’ve prodded a little more than I have in the past.

Are you guys really friends?

Are you sure he’s just kidding?

Did she mean that?

Are you upset by that comment?

I try and give kids multiple chances to let me know what’s going on, and then I remind them that I’m here and I’m always willing to listen.  But still I know it’s not going to be enough. Nonetheless I try because I know sometimes that’s all you can do. I try, and books like this one are good reminders of why it’s important to keep trying.

A couple days ago I was back in my classroom when the “Sneak Peak” sixth graders were coming through the middle school to check it out in advance of their official arrival.

Here’s what I saw:

Curiosity, sure.

Anxiety, definitely.

Fear, somewhat.

The farther we get from middle school (just in time, some people kind of camp out there emotionally for the rest of their lives) the less likely we are to remember the turmoil that is adolescence.  It can be a time of intense loneliness for many young people. They don’t know who they are, or who they’re supposed to be, or who they want to be. What I wish most for my middle school students, aside from supportive involved parents, food and shelter,  is one good friend.  That’s really all you need to make it through.  But unfortunately there are a lot of kids who don’t even have that.

So for those kids I hope they can find a good book, preferably a lot of them. I hope they can find a book with a character they relate to, or idolize, laugh or cry with.  Because sometimes that’s all it takes to feel less alone in the world.  This has nothing to do with English class or curriculum or meeting state standards. This is about making connections, the kind of connections that can get you through a rough patch. It’s about opening your eyes to new experiences and knowing that the world is a big place.

The editors of the Norton Anthology of English Literature were recently interviewed here about the 50th anniversary edition. At the end of the interview both were asked why study literature? Their answers are best read in full but here are a few quotes I liked:

“It broadens you, it makes you more human.”

“It expands you in every way. It illuminates what you’re doing.”

I want that for my students. I want that as a teacher, a reader and a writer.

Today in school, apropos of I can ‘t remember what, a student asked me with disbelief and maybe even a tiny bit of disdain in his voice, “Did you want to be a teacher?  I mean like when you were younger?” I laughed out loud at the tone in his voice and the utter skepticism that anyone could choose this profession intentionally.  And there are moments when I wonder similarly, but regardless the answer is no.

I liked school.  I liked the structure and the tasks with neat beginnings, middles, and ends.  I loved to read, I was curious and had a great memory for facts.  So school was a relatively fun place for me.  But I never dreamed of being a teacher.  Even when I decided to go back to school and get my teaching certification, it wasn’t because I wanted to be a teacher.  I did it because I never wanted to work at a desk.  I did it because I wanted every day to be different.  I did it because I thought I could be a consistent adult for kids who might lack one in their lives.  I did it because adolescents make me laugh and think.

But never because I wanted to be The Teacher.  When I see little kids playing school or teacher, they inevitably end up bossing their friends or stuffed animals through a series of tasks.  Unfortunately, I know teachers like that too.  They are teachers who want to be The Teacher.

Which brings me to one of my favorite Harry Potter quotes.  It comes from the King’s Cross chapter in the final book of the series.  Harry is talking to Dumbledore about why he never pursued the position of Minister of Magic.  Dumbledore (also a teacher incidentally) answers him by saying, “It is a curious thing Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.”

Curious, and true.

I’ve been reading The Giver every year I’ve taught 8th grade English.  And every year I love it.  I love the conversations it provokes from my students; conversations about the importance of making your own choices, about safety versus freedom, about the meaning of life itself.  And inevitably we talk about death.

Those who live in the sheltered world of the Giver’s community know nothing of death.  They believe that people are “released” from the community and go to “Elsewhere”.  In my class we talk about denial, about grief, and about the role of religion in explaining the unknown.  It’s heavy stuff.  Today it provided this little gem of a conversation between two students.

Kid 1: Death is totally going to suck.

Kid 2: Yeah remember before you were born, it’s like that, nothing. Totally boring.

Kid 1: Yeah, it really sucks.

I’m sure there are scholars who could say it in a more complex way, but not nearly as entertaining and probably just as enlightening.