I do, we do, you do

Earlier this week I was wrapping up a unit on author’s purpose. It’s a pretty straightforward topic.

We were on our last practice. I went through a final “I do, we do, you do” process. Essentially, this means that I do the thinking first, showing how I work through the process of solving the problem. Then students work with me to solve a problem, and then they work on their own. This process doesn’t usually happen all at once. It’s generally spread out over days and days of instruction. Since this was our last practice before the quiz and the practice mirrored the quiz, I wanted a quick run through of what we’d already done.

So far so good, then I got home and graded the assignment. Students had written down the answers for the “I do” and “we do” part, but had only partially completed the “you do” part. What I found odd was that after they had done their independent practice, we discussed the answers. Students shared their answers and thinking. I couldn’t figure out why they participated in the discussion, were working on the assignment when I walked around and fully engaged when we reviewed their work, even correcting a mistake I made during discussion, but didn’t record their answers.

I’m currently reading a book titled “Fall Down 7 Times, Get Up 8.” This book discusses how adults can teach kids to be resilient and work for the things they want. The author argues that our society has created kids who feel entitled to success and may not understand that success comes from hard work and determination. The author also discusses how the words we use, no matter how well intended, can hinder kids from trying, and at times reinforce their expectancy of success without any effort.

I spent some time thinking about my practice in the classroom. I am guilty of not waiting the expected five seconds before giving a student a prompt or the answer. I am guilty of rushing the process when time is short. I am guilty of focusing more on the “I do” and “we do” part of instruction. Have I created a class of entitled students? Do they expect me to write all answers on the board, giving them opportunity to not be accountable for their own thinking?

These questions have forced me to really look at what my instruction is reinforcing. I remind myself it doesn’t matter how much I care, how prepared I am or how much I value their learning. If they don’t understand that success can only come from their effort, then I’m setting them up to expect others to give them their victories.

The next day, I returned to class and handed back the assignment. I asked students why they hadn’t completed the back page. They weren’t sure. I asked if they knew the answers. They did. I explained that they would lose points if they didn’t answer all the questions. Some students shrugged and walked the paper to the basket, with the answers still blank. Many wrote the answers and turned it in. I didn’t show emotion or make judgments about their choices. This was no longer about the assignment. I later pulled students aside, one at a time, and asked them why they initially didn’t write down the answers. Most students told me they didn’t know if they had to because I didn’t write the answers on the board. They were genuinely perplexed by the question. I was seriously perplexed by their answers.

I suppose there are obvious answers. Tell kids to write down their answers when working independently. I could be more explicit about the process of completing a worksheet. To me, these only seem like temporary Band-Aids. I believe their answers speak to a larger problem. Why do my students only do what I do or tell them to do? I’ve created a classroom of followers who listen well, but don’t deviate from what I do.

I don’t have a solution to the problem, but I plan to find one. I want to understand how my words, no matter how supportive and encouraging I intend them to be, impact kids — positively and negatively. Am I building false self-esteem or helping students develop a strong sense of self-efficacy? I believe answers to these questions will solve motivation issues, assignment completion issues and encourage a willingness to take risks in my classroom. I also believe these answers are essential to helping students become the kind of adults I want them to be: people who seek their course instead of just following along.

Brandy J. Bishop teaches seventh-grade language arts at Houston Middle School.