They Call Me Big Dawg
What happens when I listen well
My classes wrote a letter to themselves to kick off the semester. I nearly fell out of my chair laughing when I read what one sophomore included in her letter (see photo above).
Sophomore student (yes, one of my many boys): walks up with a smirk and gives me a fist bump saying, “What’s up dawg? Oh, the fit is kickin today!”
Translation: Hi, Mrs. D, you’re my favorite. I like your outfit today.
Truly, many of these posts could be titled “kids say the darndest things, teen edition.” Let me tell you, children of any age are brutally honest. Students have told me when I look like a mess, told me when my outfit is great, when lessons were good, and yes, when they didn’t like one minute of a lesson. Sometimes, these honest responses are not asked for, they are just freely shared.
My theory? Let them. Let the students be honest in how they feel about a lesson, my outfit, my hair, the seating chart, whatever it is. Let them share and let me listen. (If you haven’t read Mel Robbins’ “Let Them” book, you should. And I don’t mean to be stealing her thunder; it’s just the easiest way to state my approach.) In this social media age, they have access to everything except adults who will listen to them. I see it when I’m running errands, when out to eat, everywhere I go. Everyone’s eyes are focused on the device in their hands rather than the people they are with.
I only have these students for forty-five minutes a day. But a lot can happen in that time. They say so many things, and if I am listening, I will hear the message beyond the message. When done well, I hear the student asking for help, the one who feels all alone, the one who needs help making a decision, the one who wants to share good news, and the one carrying burdens too heavy to carry.
In return, they call me “dawg,” or tell friends that I’m “their guy.” I get fist bumps, high fives, and rib crushing hugs. I practice speaking life and encouragement to them. Yes, we tease and play in the midst of the lessons, but at the end of the day, if they don’t know I believe in them, I have failed.
On the hard days, on the ones I am questioning my choice of profession, a random note (or carnation!) will show up, I’ll get a fist bump, or any numerous small things that happen throughout the day. Those are the moments I know they feel safe, listened to, and seen.
Silly nicknames? Bring them on. Advice on my outfits? I’ll take it. Fist bumps, high fives, and hugs? Yes, please. This generation is amazing. I just wonder if we are paying attention to notice.