Tag: positive

Things I Know 44 of 365: Positivity can be viral

I can live for two months on a good compliment.

– Mark Twain

Friday, Sam started class.

Well, she pre-started class.

“Mr. Chase!” as the rest of the students filed in.

“Mr. Chase!” during the general din of everyone taking their seats.

“Mr. Chase!” as I made my way to my computer to log attendance.

“Yes, Sam,” said I through gritted teeth letting only the voice of patient Mr. Chase escape.

“Can we do a high-grade compliment?”

“Um, sure.”

High-grade compliments are a piece of the opening of class I started a few years ago.

They have three rules:

  1. Be in close proximity.
  2. Make eye contact.
  3. Pause to collect your thoughts.

The difference between a high-grade compliment and a low- or medium-grade compliment is the focus on complimenting who you see a person as being – the best parts of that character my mom was always so concerned with building.

A low-grade compliment might be something like, “I like that shirt,” or “Your hair looks nice.”

Physical attributes, but still things that accessorize a person phyisically.

A medium-grade compliment might be something like, “You have a nice smile,” or “You’ve got a great sense of humor.”

Sometimes still physical attributes, but closer to who people are or who they present themselves as.

A high-grade compliment says, “I see you. I appreciate you. And here are some of the reasons why.”

From time to time, we’ll start class with a high-grade compliment, a student is picked at random, and I follow the three rules to compliment them publically in front of the whole class. A really good compliment can last anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute in delivery.

Sam was asking if we could start class with one.

As soon as my “sure” was out of my mouth, Sam followed her first with a second, “Can I give it.”

Usually, I deliver the HGCs. On ocassion, the kids will take it over.

Midway through my second “sure,” Sam was out of her seat and positioning herself in front of Douglas. As shocked as everyone else in the class was of her placement, no one was more shocked than Douglas.

The Douglas and Sam are any kind of oil-and-water-esque metaphor you can think of. They bicker, they tease, they call each other names.

And Sam was about to give him a HGC.

I was maybe holding my breath.

“Even though we call each other names and pick on each other, that’s just how we do. That’s Sam and Douglas,” she began.

“I wouldn’t want it any different. You’re like a brother to me. I know if there’s any part of the homework that I don’t understand, I can come to you and you’ll put the kidding aside and help me. And I know, when something’s wrong with you, you know you can come to me and I’ll try to help you. So, even though we call each other names and fight all the time, I wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘Cause then we wouldn’t be Sam and Douglas.”

And then the class applauded.

I swear. Douglas has it recorded on his phone if you don’t believe me.

But the class wasn’t done.

Another student raised her hand.

“Mr. Chase, can we do good news?”

Good news is my bastardization of a concept from Hal Urban. For 3-5 minutes at the top of a class, I ask the class what’s good that’s going on in their lives. We talk about how to mine the really good news rather than pieces like, “I’m wearing my favorite socks,” in the interest of not taking 20 minutes of class time.

“Sure,” I said again.

“Well, my mom had back surgery, and they had to disconnect her spine and stuff like that. And it’s been really stressful and scary. But, the doctors say she’s recovering faster than expected and she’s going to be coming home from rehab.”

Applause.

Another hand.

“After 28 years, my parents paid off the mortgage on their house.”

Applause.

Another hand.

“My brother has been having a rough time of managing going to dialysis three times a week, but this week someone from California called and said they’d like to donate one of their kidneys.”

Applause.

Another hand.

And it continued like this – students brimming over with stuff that was good in their lives.

Even the student assistant teacher in the room, a senior who the rest of the class is starting to see as an older brother, raised his hand, “I got accepted to college this week.”

A raucous applause. Why wouldn’t someone accept their mentor into college?

It was positively contagious.

One student stood her chair to share something she said only two other people knew. When she was done, the class applauded again. As she stepped down those sitting around her hugged her in congratulations.

Things were winding down and Sam yelled out again, “What about your good news, Mr. Chase?”

My mind went blank. Usually, when I schedule good news, I try to have something in mind to get the ball rolling. I’d been paying such close attention to what everyone was saying, I hadn’t thought of anything.

“Come on, Mr. Chase, what’s your good news?”

It hit me I was happy that I’d found out this week my little sister Rachel, now in her junior year at college, will be spending her spring break with me as she has every spring since her 8th-grade year.

Applause.

Now, tomorrow could just as likely bring a falling out between friends or a feud in a group project, but Friday showed me something beautiful.

It showed what fostering relationships in the classroom can look like. It showed that working to make sure all my students feel safe and supported is worthwhile work. It showed that they have come to trust me and the rest of their classmates with the deeper pieces of who they are.

We weren’t talking reading or writing, but we were definitely building our understanding of the power of words.

Things I Know 5 of 365: We need more letters of recommendation

We can’t always be happy. In fact, in the midst of our trials or others’ hardships it is not healthy to be happy. With a big movement in “positive affirmation” and “authentic happiness” currently in mainstream thought, it can seem that if we are not happy, we must be living our life wrong somehow.

– Gloria DeGaetano

Striving for Dr. John Gottman’s ratio of 5:1 for positive to negative interactions is a lofty goal. A fairly positive person, I certainly have moments when I’m more likely to respond with snark than kindness.

This is why I love letters of recommendation. Even last fall, when I had to write for 20 academic advisees and almost as many English students, I thoroughly enjoyed the process.

Letters of recommendation do more than compliments. They ask us to sit and think about the positives of those with whom we have relationships and not only think of their positive attributes, but build context around those attributes as well. We’re shaping a narrative to show how the recommended has earned our esteem throughout our regular, mundane interactions.

It’s an ultimate act of reflection asking us to gather up all those moments of positive interaction that have likely gone unnoticed and put them in a story of merit.

I like to picture a world where people write letters of recommendation in the same way news programs produce celebrity obituaries – amassing an archive of letters and culling our experiences at regular intervals to keep them updated and ready for submission at a moment’s notice.

Perhaps it would look something like this:

To Whom It May Concern:

It is my pleasure to offer my recommendation on behalf of Patrick Higgins, Jr. Patrick’s dogged approach to his own professional development shines through in all aspects of the work he does on behalf of the students and teachers he serves. His creativity, dedication and thoughtfulness will make Patrick an invaluable addition to any organization fortunate to bring him on board.

I first met Patrick three years ago when presenting at an educational technology conference. Slotted to present at the end of the day, Patrick faced an uphill battle in engaging a crowd that was tired and already gorged on ideas. Equal to the task, Patrick organized his session in the way I would hope any teacher would. He asked his audience to participate, to move, to interact, to communicate and to listen. What could easily have been an hour and a half of lethargy and apathy was one of energy and thoughtfulness.

In his role working with teachers in his district, Patrick has continually impressed me as he reflects on his practice in his writings on his blog. Celebrating his successes, Patrick is also the first to admit his shortcomings and work to better understand how they can be prevented in the future. Throughout numerous posts, one sees how he constantly searches for new ideas to integrate into his own and ultimately improve his practice.

While Patrick’s blog may serve as a public gallery of his internal reflection, make no mistake – he is a creature of collaboration. More than once, an instant message or Skype conversation with Patrick has led to a discussion of the ideas one of us is working with. I can think of no conversation with Patrick that hasn’t included the pushing of my thinking or him welcoming the pushing of his own thoughts.

I would be remiss to conclude without including an aspect of Patrick’s character that is key in my estimation. Whether an informal conversation, a training session with a room of strangers, or speaking of his own family, Patrick approaches all whom he interacts with a genuine ethic of care and intent to understand. Of Patrick, a colleague once recently remarked, “He is quite simply a good person.” No more needs be said on the topic.

For all of the reasons above, I am honored to offer my recommendation on behalf of Patrick Higgins, Jr. He is a person of superb character, thought and professionalism.

Sincerely,

Zachary Chase

Now you write one.