"rollin' down the street, smokin' endo, sippin' on gin and juice..." Snoop Dogg, 'Gin & Juice'

Gin & Juice

Every year, the school magazine submits ballots to students, asking them to vote for the Teacher of the Year. The students diligently fill theirs out, writing about the person, that year, who inspired them the most. The votes are tallied, and the winning teacher is interviewed for the school magazine, and an article is written about him or her. Then, teachers are given their votes. I have always gotten a pile of 30-40; some have names on them of the students who voted for me and others are anonymous. I never win (it's always a coach, or someone who runs an extracurricular activity and comes in contact with large numbers of students), but I cherish my ballots.

On Friday, I got my batch of ballots for this year. I flipped through them quickly, and smiled at a few of the responses. Then I set them aside so I could corral my hyper minions for the last day before spring break. It wasn't until I had a little quiet time on Saturday that I actually got to read the ballots. The comments this year were much more personal, and they delighted me.

There are four questions on a ballot. The first is 'Who do you consider the 'Students' Choice Teacher of the Year?" Amusingly, all the ballots only contained one name for this section  - there was no "Ms." or "Mrs.", but only my last name. Apparently, I'm a household name. The next question is, "What special qualities does this teacher possess that qualifies them as Students' Choice Teacher of the Year?" Some responses were: "She makes class fun, but you learn", "She can put up with the most annoying students ever", "She helps you out when you need her help",  "She can relate to the students way more than other teachers", and "Her personality is the best in the entire school."

Number three is "Aside from course lesson, what has this teacher taught you?" This number always has my favorite responses, because... well... I teach those kids weird things. This year didn't disappoint me. Answers included, "How to be confident and determined", "It's better to respect people", "She has taught me to be a better writer", "It's okay to be weird and different", "Not to take every little thing so seriously, to loosen up and chill", and, my personal favorite, "She taught me how to be a man!". Usually, this one also has the comment, 'Don't use the word GAY - use LAME", but I didn't get that one this year. I'll need to step up my anti-homophobe message next year, apparently.

And them there's #4. #4 asks for stories. And my kids, well, they remember things about me. Many students this year recalled stories of my description of my brain surgery (depending on my mood, it often includes visuals and demonstrations). Another student explained how I read them Dr. Seuss stories on Dr. Seuss's birthday. My one student, freshly transported from Florida for his senior year, used an allusion to an M.C. Hammer song, while another quoted my personal re-write of a Snoop Dogg song ("rollin' down the street, eatin' Twinkies, sippin' on Mountain Dew..."). And, of course, many responses re-told my story of the first day that I tried really hard to be a skeptic ("and then, she heard a sound downstairs, and she screamed and she said, 'It's a SEA MONSTER!', but really, it was the washing machine"). I laughed at my ballots, and I smiled at the praise that my students gave me. My unconditional positive regard (thank you, Carl Rogers) really made students feel better about themselves, and if my kids leave my classroom thinking that they're a good person, then I've done my job.

Here's the thing. Every teacher has those kids that grate on their every nerve - the ones who, when they're absent, the class actually gets work done. These are the kids that frustrate you, make you put extra time in; the kids that you argue with, or debate. I have so many of those kids this year - challenges. And do you know what?

Every single one of them voted for me. Every. Single. One.

I studied their responses. Studied them. Read them over and over, hoping for a clue. Why would these kids gravitate to me? If they were such troublemakers, why would they like me, and yet still act out? And then it hit me. These kids act the same way in every class. They ask too many questions, talk too much, walk around, cause a ruckus. But the other teachers shoot them down. They hand out multiple detentions. They make these kids hate to be in school. So why do they like me? Because I don't give detentions - I take the troublemaker out in the hall, grin at them, and come to a common definition of acceptable behavior. I don't silence them (as much as I may like to); instead, I get them to turn the volume down. But I guess I didn't understand how much of a difference it made to these kids.

So, in the future, I'm going to keep celebrating each student, no matter how challenging. And I'm going to keep these ballots, to look at on days that are a little more tough than others, and find something to smile about.