Beyond Petty Politics

I look out at the faces of my beloved students and have so. much. hope. They are only 13 and 14 years old, yet (ironically) they have more class and decency than some adults seen on T.V. This generation of youngsters has every reason to mimic the tone, message, and showmanship of the leaders in our country. But they don’t. They are so beyond these petty politics. My students are curious, interested, engaged. They disagree with one-another in a way that I wish would go viral. Their civility is admirable. They belong to a community with diverse ideas, yet — somehow — they still like each other. This community? 4th hour American History in Anytown, USA.

This community nestles itself in my classroom each Monday through Friday around 11 am. They hold a special place in my heart because they are teaching me how to navigate the tricky waters of today. They force me to think outside the box. They make me question my tactics as a social studies teacher. How do I teach, encourage, and model civility? What can I do to promote listening, contemplation, and humility?

Earlier in the year, I did something new-to-me. I asked students to anonymously write down a thing or two they cared about. I threw out some ideas: gun rights, free college, LGBTQ issues, racism, a later start to the school day, and so on. They bustled with excitement and eagerly wrote down their thoughts. I collected the responses and made an on-the-fly move. I decided to share a few of their comments aloud and opted to start with this phrase, “here are some of the things people in this class care about...” Before I started reading, however, I asked them to actively listen, but not by responding with any noise, facial expression, or bodily movement. I read through some of their ideas. I stopped after a few hot-button issues and let them linger in the tension. They were locked in, and I could sense curiosity bubbling up. I affirmed their self-control (knowing that some kids were stewing on the inside) and offered to open up the conversation. They were restrained, thoughtful, and honest. No one had to speak, but many did. We went on for a half-an-hour. I was honestly shocked that a room full of pubescent teens could handle such a thing. Now I know better.

When I transitioned into the next activity, my students returned to normal-teen-status, “whaaaa?” and “can we do more?” Perfect, I thought. We’ll circle back to this (and soon). It feels really important to push my students into the space of consideration even if it causes discomfort. It is my responsibility as a social studies teacher in 2020 to create this kind of community. A community where students are sitting among peers who they know have outrageously different beliefs, but are nevertheless the same — human. They need to know and accept that one person is a die-hard-pro-Trumper, while another is seriously concerned about the tone and tenor of our current leader; that the social agenda of Democrats is a dream-come-true for some classmates, while others feel truly outraged at those ideas.

You may or may not teach social studies. You may or may not teach teens. But maybe we can all learn from these folks. My 4th hour American History class, — teens who are so beyond these petty politics — for they are a role model to us all.