Teacher, Revised

by GABRIELLE LENSCH

There are some conversations that just never happen in a private school.  Intimacy is high and, as a result, privacy is quite low.  For instance, a few weeks ago, Alistair posted about having a student stay after during a passing period to talk about a behavioral or academic concern.   That type of conversation—hurried between classes—is nearly impossible at my school because everyone is always everywhere.  More often that not, I find myself writing letters or emails to students because it is so hard to talk about confidential matters at school. 

I have taught in three private schools and one public school, and I am in no way complaining about teaching at a private school.  I consider myself quite fortunate, especially because I currently work exclusively with gifted and talented children.  I just want to illustrate that it is a completely different world.  The stereotypical classroom and situations that many people associate with “school” would be challenging to recreate in a well-run private school.  It is not that I do not talk to my students.  It is just quite a challenge to find a physical space to talk to them in private unless it is during class time while other students are working independently.

Most private schools are physically smaller than public school buildings.  In addition, none of the private schools where I have taught allow classes to have more than twenty students in them, and teachers are up-close-and-personal with the kids every day in small classrooms.  My door is always open, and students are frequently talking with each other in the back of the room on the bean bag chairs or fifteen feet a way in a clump around my desk.   In order to share information quietly, with a teacher, student, or parent, I would have to tell students ahead of time that my room was unavailable.  This would be strange for them, as it is not my room as much as it is theirs.

There are days when I spend three hours with the same kids, and at 50% (I am part time), I only have twenty-nine students total.    I don’t know everything that happens to my students—nor do I want to—but I know a lot of it.  They are in the middle of puberty with the complex psychological workings of children who are gifted—a lot is going on every day—and our school’s wonderful counselor notifies me immediately when a child is having challenging or even just changing experiences. I am then able to respond appropriately and immediately.  Drawing from my personal experiences in both rural and urban public schools, that type of intimacy would never be able to happen in a public school. 

There are wonderful things about public schools, and I am not trying to step on anyone’s toes, but it seems worth mentioning why small, private schools have a place in the education world.  My students know me.  I am like a young aunt or an older sister to them.  They tell me when they need help and when they are worried about each other.  I am an educator to them in character development, decision making, and social skills, as well as reading, writing, thinking, and communication skills.  They do not just attend my class for forty-five minutes a day.  Our lives are intertwined for the year, sometimes two, that we spend together.  We are open to being affected by each other, and that attitude makes all the difference. I know that this wonderful lack of privacy can happen in a public school, but there is no choice but have it happen in a small, private one. 

Part of why this very non-private atmosphere is so important in creating a positive learning environment is that students grow to trust their teachers.  They know that they can ask questions of us.  They know that if they try something new and fail to succeed, they will have a community around them and supporting adults.  Everyone becomes safer and a better learner in the noisy openness of a caring community.  This goes for teachers as well. I am no wizard behind the curtain.  Students see me grading papers in free moments, they witness discussions among teachers about curriculum choices, and they are comfortable enough with me to correct mistakes or offer suggestions for improving everything from my handwriting to my lesson plans. I am a better teacher for the lack of isolation, and they are better students.