Poker Chips
During my studying as a teacher, I watched this video in a Special Education class, and I think about it a lot. The values taught in this video have led me to discovering and crafting my teaching philosophy into what it is today.
I implore you to spend some time watching it. It's 11 minutes.
If you don't have 11 minutes to spare, here's a recap done to the best of my ability.
There are two students: Blake and George.
Blake is captain of the soccer team. He has a lot of friends. He has a girlfriend. He has good grades. He gets noticed for the things he does: scoring goals, making jokes, being a good friend, being popular.
He has 300,000 thousand poker chips.
George doesn't play sports. George gets okay grades, has a few friends, and is generally pretty quiet. He doesn't really get noticed for a whole lot, maybe a few kids make fun of him. School is hard for him socially and otherwise. It takes a lot of effort for him to succeed as much as he does.
He has 10,000 poker chips.
These two are in the same class, and are asked to be willing to spend their poker chips in a game.
Do you see the inequity yet?
A teacher asks a question: "What is the main idea of 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty?" (A terrible question, I might add."
To answer, a student must spend poker chips. Get it wrong, you lose 100. Get it right, you gain 100.
Blake shouts out an answer: "Some dude is in the army."
The teacher says: "Not quite."
Blake loses 100 poker chips and isn't phased. He has a lot more.
In his head, George is thinking: "It's a story about a man who daydreams of better things."
George looks at his stack of poker chips and doesn't want to risk losing 100. He doesn't have a lot; he can't risk losing them.
George doesn't answer. He was unsure.
The teacher continues: "The main idea is that there is a man here who is daydreaming of better things."
George was right.
He should have answered.
But, he didn't.
You see, poker chips are a way in which we can represent self-esteem.
Blake has a lot of self-esteem; George doesn't.
And, guess what? Answering questions isn't the only place where Blake and George will ever have to use poker chips.
What about asking for a job?
What about asking someone to marry you?
What about working towards a dream you have?
Those cost more than 100 poker chips. Those numbers are in the tens of thousands.
Our job, as teachers, is to provide students with poker chips.
Recently, my school has been going through a lot of changes. We're trying to get better--as educators often do. There is, however, lots of changes happening.
Two of those changes that I am particularly involved with in my school as an interventionist revolve around the book Lost at School and training with Restorative Practices.
Just from those two threads of change, our school is sending a message: we need to get better about handling students who challenge us as teachers.
If you are a teacher, I bet a few names popped into your head.
Or maybe you were the challenging kid.
Or maybe you knew the challenging kid when you were going to school.
We, as a school, have decided to take the first step in making some changes.
Yesterday, I was able to end the final round of our three-day workshop on Restorative Practices. And, while I haven't written here in a while, these ideas have been spamming my brain and my thinking for a while.
I have also finished reading Lost at School.
When I was thinking about what to write and create over Thanksgiving Break to not only give myself some closure but also give closure to those who read this, this video and this concept that has long-since guided my teaching came into my head.
All of it fits so clearly in with what we are trying to accomplish at our school: understanding how to help the kids that are begging for our help in the most challenging ways.
They need poker chips, but not just chips that help them feel confident and full of self-esteem. In fact, oftentimes, the kids who challenge us ARE the kids who have plenty of poker chips to throw around.
But, the problem with the challenging kids isn't always with not having poker chips.
The problem is that teachers don't take the time to truly notice these kids.
We get caught up in making our own plans for them, rushing through curriculum, making sure the majority of students are doing the work, giving behavior write-ups, and forcing them to make choices based on what we want.
We don't take time to listen.
You know what gives poker chips?
Noticing kids.
Listening to them.
Letting them feel like they are heard.
The common thread is empathy.
Empathy is understanding the perspective and feelings of someone else.
And I'm starting to see Empathy as an intervention:
In class, I see Kyle playing a game on his computer instead of doing the assignment. I walk over to Kyle and say: "Hey, Kyle. I notice that you are playing a game instead of doing the work. What's going on?"
Kyle has just been invited to a conversation: "I'm just bored."
"Oh, yeah? Why do you think you are bored?"
"This is a boring assignment."
"Oh, I see. So you're playing games that are more exciting. Right?"
"Yeah. Basically."
"Why do you think this assignment is boring?"
"It's too long."
"Oh, so it's boring because it takes too much time."
"Yeah."
"Alright, so the assignment is too long, but I feel as though you need to get some of it done to prove to me that you are learning. Do you have any solutions we can try?"
The intervention thus becomes the agreed upon solution, and Kyle was probably given some poker chips. We often don't think of interventions for behavior the same as we do for academics.
Teachers can accommodate and modify their curriculum based on the academic needs of a student until their heads pop off, but can they accommodate and modify their teaching based on the behavioral needs of the student?
What's the typical interaction?
"Kyle, get off that game or I will write you up."
"Mister, I'm not playing a game!"
"Kyle, I can see your fingers on the keypad. Turn it off, or I will take the chrome book."
"Then come take it!"
And no one ever got work done that way. The teacher stole Kyle's poker chips, damaged the relationship, and has not solved anyone's problems.
That's not an intervention.
Kids are not used to being listened to; they are used to being told what to do.
Students are not often the target of empathy.
We don't have the time. We don't have the energy. We don't have the stamina. We don't have the ability. We don't care.
Teaching is hard, but being an empathetic person shouldn't be.
Listen to this: do you think Kyle's behavior going forward will improve if the teacher constantly yells at hime? The teacher will spend more energy and time yelling at Kyle than they will sitting down, empathizing, and coming to a new agreement.
Will the behavior stop forever right away? No.
But now you know what Kyle is thinking and how to help him.
And now Kyle knows you are trying to help him.
All kids want is to know that they are cared for.
And, damn, honest care towards a student gives them a hell of a lot of poker chips. And those come from you.
It's basically a superpower--creating poker chips out of thin air.
Let's go to Vegas. We could use the money.
But, how do we do this?
This list comes from me, Restorative Practices, and Lost at School.
This list is simple, and you can ask these questions the next time you teach:
"What do you think you need right now?"
"I can see that this is challenging for you, what's up?"
"I notice that you are having difficulty with...What's up?"
"What were you thinking when you made that choice?"
"How are you feeling right now?"
"What do you think should be done right now to fix this?"
"I feel as though you are ______. Is that true?"
And the list could go on and on and on and on and on and on.
You know what the cool thing is? Empathy as an intervention is all about questioning the student. And you know what all teachers are unequivocally trained to do?
Ask.
Questions.
There's immense power in empathy.
Empathy builds people up, provides them with chips to spend in the many ways life will expect of them.
Empathy invites solutions.
Empathy creates a relationship between you and the one you are trying so hard to understand.
What would your classroom look like with a bit more empathy? Hell, what would the world like with a little more empathy?
All it takes is an invitation. Go out and do some inviting.
"There are lives in the balance" (282).
