The mumbled name 8-4-08

Having taken a leave of absence from this blog for some time I could start off my latest post in a variety of ways. Perhaps a reflection on last years successes and failures. Maybe a debrief on our state test scores and the feeling of hopelessness that rushes over me when I analyze them. I could even begin by describing my summer break. So many paths, and none of which I'm going to take. I'm sure at some point I'll come back to our CSAP data for a thorough discussion and I hope that before the year really kicks off that I take some time to reflect on last years' experience. But instead, for the time being, I want to talk about the mumbled name.

Our freshmen joined us for their first day of school yesterday. Nervous, quiet, and fairly reserved, I began to wonder if these were really our kids. Did last year's crop start out this way? I'm sure in two weeks I won't be able to stop them from talking in my class, but today there were some students who couldn't articulate a single word, not even their name. I just don't get it. What's with the kid who when asked their name mumbles back to you some sort of incoherent sound that reminds me more of Sylvester Stalone trying to speak with a mouth full of marbles. The mumbled name...doesn't that tell you everything? The confidence of a child bears, the pride they carry with them. It's no different than an interview.

If I walk into your office, offer a limp wristed hand shake, and mumble my name, it becomes highly unlikely that I'm going to be hired. Why? Because I didn't exude any sort of self-esteem or belief in my own value. This may or may not actually be true, but reality is merely composed of our perceptions. As an employer I would perceive these hidden symbols as signs of insecurity, something I don't need or want in my business.

When a high school student struggles to tell you their name while simultaneously offering you a weaker hand shake than that of the branches of a weeping willow you have to wonder how they feel about themselves. Asking a child to repeat their name 3 or 4 times only to discover from your methodical interpretation that the student's name is "Kyle" sends me a message. What has this child been through that they can't speak their own name in confidence and pride? More so, what are we going to do so that by the time we're done with them their shake will grip tighter than a new born baby's hand wrapped around your finger and their name will be shouted from the top of the mountains?

Teaching math? Is that really my priority? Maybe articulation and hand shaking should be my first lesson. Potential Learning Outcome for day 1: Students will be able to introduce themselves with confidence and firmly shake your hand.