Dear colleagues,
Early this past fall, I decided to do something funny with my students. We had just finished the warm-up in first hour, and someone had a great share, and I said:
“All right students, here's the deal. You know how Mr. Simmons [our principal] often sits in on classes for a few minutes? Next time he's in here, we're going to do something funny. You guys are going to do what you do, work hard, get after it, pursue the mastery, and I'm going to just say, real nonchalant, the word ‘Respect.' And you guys, right after I say that, all in unison respond with a strong and in unison, ‘MAD RESPECT.' And right after you do it, turn and look at his face and watch as a single tear trickles down his cheek.
“Sound good? Okay, let's practice. In response to that share from Michael that we just heard, I say, ‘Respect.'”
“Mad respect…?” a few of them responded.
“Okay, well, we'll work on it,” I chuckled.
I introduced it in all my classes that day, and as the week went on, we did it once or twice per lesson. The whole time I'm hamming it up, not making it some serious or coercive thing, just like one of those, “Well, we're here, right? Might as well have some fun together” things.
The first time Mr. Simmons walked into one of my classes a few weeks later, a couple students looked at me, eyes bulging.
“Don't forget!” their glares said.
And of course, I didn't forget because I was pumped. “Well students, good work on that writing session we just did. All I can say in light of that hard work is one thing: respect.”
“MAD RESPECT!”
The energy in the room was priceless, as was the loud guffaw from our principal. (And there was an unverified report of a small, trickling tear.)
The thing is, the little habit stuck. It became a source of light in an often trying school year, where I juggled a couple 35-student class sections, a couple really tricky general-level groups, and the ever-present journey of being a teacher.
On the last day of school, my general-level students were doing their 10-minute writing warm-up. We did these warm-ups every day for all of second semester, and we experienced the things that come when humans write. The warm-ups always involved three prompts — usually one related to goals, one in response to a quotation, and one in response to an open-ended prompt.
The quote on this final day was just one word: “Respect. — Mr. Stu”
The students produced some thoughtful (and some just hilariously farcical) responses, some of which I'm including below:
- “Because with this quote, it helps us lock in as a class and get anyone who wasn't paying attention to pay attention, and also show respect for one another.” — Jacob
- “Our class turned GOATed from this quote because this is telling us how much respect we have for one another.” — Dylan
- “This quote gives the class emotion and it gives the whole class more motivation to do things in the classroom.” — Lily
- “…We are respecting ourselves with the work we put in and saying it out loud shows us that we did something hard and we need some respect and we get it.” — Keenan
- “WE are the goats. WE are the best. WE will not falter. WE shall do the best. WE won't fail. WE will try. WE are motivated. WE are 4th hour.” — Brayden
- “I hated it, but now I kind of like it. It brings the class together, and can help with a lot of class problems, too.” — James
- “ON EVERYONE'S SOUL, we all respond with “MAD respect” when Stu says ‘Respect.' This quote may seem dull, bland, or even corny on paper, but you are wrong. DEAD WRONG. This quote is an inspiration for us all to engage in the class and keep pushing for double-sided respect. If you aren't pushing for MAD Respect, what are you even doing? Step up your game and go for it; you won't regret doing so.” — Nicolas
- “When reflecting on the quote “Respect” from Mr. Stu and “Mad respect” from the rest of the class, there is an earthquake, a wave of pure energy, that is pushed out of this school, an aura that is enforced on everybody in a 1000-mile radius of raw communion and respect between everyone in this class that then like a splash in the water or an atomic bomb sets off chain reactions spreading throughout the radius of our aura, burning all sins and feelings of distrust like the “Kaboom” from Call of Duty Zombies.” — Liam
I mean, that last one about killed me. 🤣 Like… “I'm sorry, what?” And it's a great example of why I'm both thankful that another year has ended and thankful for having had it. (I need to get the teenager communication patterns out of my system a bit, let's just say. Love 'em, but man… it's a different language sometimes!)
I share this, colleagues, because to me it's an example of so much of what is good about teaching. It exemplifies:
- The simple fun we can have — even amidst the hardships
- The ways in which words, especially repeated ones, can do things much bigger than the intent of the speaker
- The way Belonging feels while it's growing and developing, in the jagged and organic ways in which Belonging happens.
So you can take the idea or leave it in your next year of teaching. Up to you, but I give it two thumbs up.
But one thing you have to take, from one colleague to another, is the deep feeling I have when I think about writing to you. That feeling, in a word, is Respect.
Teaching right beside you,
DSJR
P.S. Thus begins my annual summer break from writing. I expect to be back in July sometime, and I'll take the next weeks to mostly rest and, as I'm able, work on a few restorative projects like integrating this year's blog posts into the anchor articles I made last summer (you can find those here) and dreaming up what comes next in the little cosmos we create together through this blog.
P.P.S. Thank you to my brother-in-law Nick Edwards, who does the “respect” thing in his workplace. It really made a difference for my students and me this year.
P.P.P.S. The “Let's Talk AI” offering I did last month now includes a collaboration platform. If you want to converse with colleagues on latest developments, policies, competing visions of the future of education, you can join up for whatever price you'd like here.
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