Backward and Blind: Inspirational Stories About Teaching Teens

The stories in the book, Backward and Blind (Available through Amazon ), are rooted in true events.  Over time, the tales morph a little with each telling. Further, names and some pieces of the stories are adjusted to maintain privacy and to protect the identity of the individuals in the book.  

A few of the stories are yet to have endings about the featured vibrant young people.  The entries in this blog are intended to continue the stories beyond the text and whenever possible to answer the biggest question, "Where are they now?"  To that end, this blog is maintained with posts that update communications and interactions with former students identified in the book. 

Another goal of this blog is include a conversation about the value of teaching. I plan to record relevant messages and thoughts I've received from readers. 

This specific post answers common questions that arise from the stories in the text. Additional posts in this blog supplement the text of Backward and Blind.  If you have additional questions, send them to the author at JeanAnneMillerMariner@gmail.com or place them in the comments.  

A Conversation With the Author:

1.       Are these stories real?  Did these things really happen this way?

Each tale has an element of truth; some tales are rather tall and some are very accurate. I’ve taken liberties with some of the stories to simply make a point or to add interest and humor.   Some tales are a combination of up to four different stories combined into one. For example, the introductory story about Mark is taken from four very real events.  The first was when a student forgot (yes, really) use the bathroom in the morning, the second was when a student – on a different trip – banged on the inside wall of the bus and thus had me believe I had hit something while backing up, the third – yet a third trip -- was the student who literally skied backward down a black diamond with his eyes closed, and the fourth – and a different trip from each of the previous --  was a student who stashed alcohol in his ski poles.  Some stories I changed to protect the identity of a student or person in the story.  Sometimes, I’d change gender, age, location, or math topic.  If you are a student of mine and think the story is about you or your class or friend, it may be, but it may also NOT be.

I’m a math teacher at heart and have not been gifted with an immensely creative side; I can’t make up stories like these!  But I can embellish, tweak, exaggerate, and otherwise adjust a story in order to make it fun and to give it a message. Those people who have experienced me as a teacher have heard many of these stories; it’s my best bet that people who heard the stories fifteen years ago are hearing milder versions of the stories told five years ago.

2.       You say, “Teaching Teens,” a phrase that could have two meanings – that the teens are teaching or that the teens are being taught.  Can you talk about that?

In my first year teaching, I thought I was the best teacher ever.  Not that I was going to be the best teacher ever sometime in the future, but that I already was simply awesome in the classroom.  Many first year (and potential) teachers seem to feel the same way. Indeed, I made many, many mistakes in my first years teaching – and even in later years.  The best teachers were my students.  If my relationship was solid with them and if I was open to their comments, then I could grow.  I was less able to be open to their critiques earlier in my career, but learned that my relationship with students was vastly improved if I could say, “Oops, I goofed here,” or “I don’t know how to do this; can you help me?” 

After over twenty years in the classroom, I was using new technology that turned our whole classroom wall into a computer screen.  There was no manual about how to use the technology; as a tester, I was experimenting with it to see how it could be used.  I learned the most when I said to the teenaged ‘native speakers’ of technology in my classroom, “How might we do *this*?”

So what did my students teach me? So much that I can’t list it all.   Here’s a start: Humility.  The importance of working together and how to work together effectively.  How to use technology.  And at times, even some math!

More on the title! Can you explain the "Backward and Blind" part? 

Of course, the first story explains the genesis of the words backward and blind when a student headed down a difficult ski slope backwards and with his eyes closed to test himself, to test boundaries, and simply to do his "job" being a teenage male. In the process of shaking my head at his craziness, I thought that taking this job teaching was really not all that different from what he did on the ski slopes. Just like him, I had no idea what was going on ahead of me, and I couldn't see where to go -- and I could not really accurately see where I had been.  Also like the skier, I was also taking a huge risk that felt a little nuts. As I grew into the job, I realized that I really had been very blind particularly in those first few years.  I thought I was an amazing teacher, when in reality, I was making some huge mistakes.

In addition, the word "backward" felt appealing for this book, for me, and for my teaching experience because the word "backward" (as opposed to "backwards") carries a meaning other than a direction.  Someone can be socially backward. A community can be behind the times and thus be called backward.  In taking the job teaching, I was defying the messages I had received in my youth -- some identified in the beginning of the book -- and thus, I was backward. Teaching also is a job -- sometimes the only job -- that was available to women in generations past. As someone who prided herself in being forward-thinking, the role of teacher simply didn't fit -- it felt backward.

3.       You asked students who needed help to spend one-on-one time with you; were there students who didn’t do that?  What happened next?

I did not connect with each and every student I saw in the classroom – I don’t think any teacher does. I did try, however.  In the book, I addressed what I did if I didn’t connect well with a student – and many students were able to respond as the person did in the book.  But there are times when a student would not come for extra help. There are times when a student refused to talk with me.  There are times when a student would tell an untruth to his or her parents and create a mess when he or she did not come “clean” with the lie. There are times this created a high and deep wall between me and the family of the student.  Try as I might, I am not the only ingredient in a relationship with a student. The student must  be willing to help make the relationship work. Teachers often spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about, “What I could have done better,” when a student is resistant to learning or developing a relationship. I am no exception to that.  Ultimately, students oversee themselves and their own learning. If they are unable or unwilling to work with me, then any of my efforts are fruitless.

4.       You’ve said, “People are allowed to grow up.” Can you talk about that more?

In my first years teaching, I met young people who were testing the system – something I think teenagers do naturally to see what the boundaries are.  It’s all part of the design of growing up and learning.  Also, many young people struggle with so much in their lives.  Teen behavior can be erratic, unpredictable, sometimes a little off-the-wall for a good reason or even not for a good reason.  In my first years, I labeled them – really inappropriately – to be that way for the rest of their lives.  Indeed, when my son went through his teen years, he was testing the same boundaries.  Then years later, when he earned his PhD, I found myself offended when some of his high school teachers were so unashamedly surprised at his accomplishment. One goal of this book is to have young teachers, like I was, understand that people grow up and become more than what they were when they were fifteen.

In addition, when I learned to see my own failings, I hoped that my students would allow me to grow, change, and become a better person and teacher.  I hoped they would allow me to grow up, too.  If I allowed them to travel on their path of improvement, they could allow me the same.

5.       Why did you only teach in independent schools? Did you ever teach or want to teach in a public school?

I started teaching in independent schools because I didn’t need additional coursework or special certifications that were expensive and time-consuming. This made sense to me because I really thought I’d only teach for a couple years until I figured out what I really wanted to do with my life. Instead, I stayed teaching because it was simply fun. I honed my craft with the help of colleagues, of coursework taken at night or in the summers, and by studying on my own. 

At some point, I began to question my choice.  I thought that perhaps I could serve more people better in the public system.  After all, those whose parents (or guardians) could fund those expensive educations were more likely to be ok than those in the public system.  I found myself justifying staying in my cushy job in independent schools by noting that my students were more likely to own companies, enter politics, and make larger decisions that ultimately could improve the lives of others.  Not really buying that argument  after sixteen years in the classroom, I read about how my community desperately needed high school math teachers. I made an appointment with the local superintendent of schools to try to get a job filling the local need in the public high school.  I arrived to the appointment with copies of the textbooks I’d written, curricula I’d developed, and my resume identifying that I had chaired two different math departments at highly regarded schools.  After introducing myself, he said, “Great – can you start tomorrow?”  I had to reply with the catch – I was not certified.  His response: “Sorry, you can’t work in this system.”  I started the process of certification but was refused because I had never experienced student teaching.  Having my own classroom for over 15 years was not student teaching and didn’t count. The saga went on a little further, but when I was offered a teaching job at the local university instead of the local high school, I abandoned my efforts at being a certified high school teacher and taught at the college level.

My bio in the book reports that I taught at "six different schools."  I primarily taught at three schools and loved them each. The other three schools include the brief teaching assignment at a college and two summer school programs. Each place offered me new perspectives and new skills. I'm thankful for the diversity of experiences and the longevity at the three schools where I spent the bulk of my career (10 years, 5 years, 16 years) 

6.       Psychology and mathematics – two seemingly disparate areas -- yet you taught both.  How are they connected for you in the classroom?

I am primarily a teacher.  The subject is simply the vehicle to connect with students.  There are so many interesting ideas, subjects, and lessons in all disciplines.  With a genuine teacher whose passion is to simply build up a young person to stand, walk, then run on their own, the subject is less relevant.

7.       Dating can be a challenge in a boarding school. Was there ever a time when your students made dating easier? 

Oh yes.  One of my suitors knew my students.  He lived in a different state but enjoyed asking my students to leave something such as flowers with a handwritten note from him on my desk.  The first time this happened, I was standing in front of a room of quiet and knowing fifteen-year-olds, feeling quite flustered and wondering if he were on campus.  When the students began twittering, I realized they had planted the note and gift.

8.       Different kinds of students have different kinds of needs in a teacher.  What kinds of students did you serve well? What kinds of students did you serve less well and how did you deal with those students?

During my first years teaching, I wanted to teach the upper levels and the honors classes.  I thought I did that better than the lower levels.  I found it easier to work harder to understand the advanced concepts than it was to figure out the ins-and-outs of student struggles.  Indeed, it is easier to teach smart kids – the teacher simply must step aside and get out of the way of the learning of the smarter students.  The real teaching challenge is to inspire, build up, and help those who struggle to learn and to become more successful and productive.  In my later years teaching, I found it infinitely more satisfying to help students move from D’s to B’s or A’s than from A’s to A’s. Eventually, my forte became working with young people who were convinced they couldn’t do well in math. In my last years in the classroom, my niche was to work with students on the bottom tier of the math program.  Some of these students went on to become CEO’s of their own companies, PhD electrical engineers an the national laboratories, and computer scientists.

 

9.       You were involved in experiential education in a variety of ways. Can you talk about the value of experiential education for your students and if/how that impacted the classroom experience for you and your students?

Planning, assembling, last-minute preparation, selling (to the students) an experiential education program is exhausting and requires many different skills.  Taking the trip while responsible for teenagers is all-consuming and a twenty-four-hour-a-day task.  Disassembling, unpacking, completing follow-up, and general clean-up is also very draining. Administrators and faculty who have never led a trip from conception to completion have no idea what kind of effort is needed.  Indeed, when I was required to plan these kinds of programs, I was overwhelmed and insufficiently prepared. Indeed, some of my first more major failings in experiential education programs are outlined in the book. However, I still saw the value of these experiences and continued to do them even when I knew what kind of daunting task would be ahead of me.

Taking students out of the classroom and into a very different learning environment is inevitably an activity filled with great growth. These trips and experiences  are how people remember and organize their years: “Oh yes, that year I did the archaeology interim…” The benefits far exceed the costs, but a committed staff/faculty member is key for they will never be renumerated appropriately for their efforts.

The benefits: skills, affirmation, connection. The skills needed in outdoor or experiential experiences are different, so often different students come out as leaders in their class.  Sometimes the weaker academic student becomes the stronger experiential student.  Sometimes new leaders present themselves: a shy young woman might find herself outgoing while hiking the Grand Canyon.  In this way, students’ value is affirmed in ways that they cannot be in the classroom.  Shared experiences always build connection; experiential programs build these connections meaningfully and in diverse ways.  Furthermore, teacher skills are sometimes not as great as student skills.  For examples, I’ve seen students help me on hikes – like the students did in the Grand Canyon – and I’ve seen students demonstrate greater creative skills than I had.  Having students see vulnerabilities in teachers increases connections. 

10  The death of your student was deeply sad; did you experience other losses of students during your time as a teacher and what were those experiences like?

It simply feels unnatural and wrong to have a student die before the teacher.  These young people who I’ve seen in my classroom are meant to take the world into the next generation and into the world beyond the one that contains me. 

Only twice has a student I have known died while still a high school student.  Both times were heartbreaking to me. Once, a student died a year after his graduation. In that case, I tearfully assembled all the photos I had of him and mailed them to his parents. Years later, I learned that the father had one of my photos of his son blown up, framed, and sitting predominantly on his desk for many years.  Now that I’m a parent, I know that losing a student can’t possibly be like losing your own child, but it’s close. When a former student dies, it’s deeply sad and troubling.  Many of my former students are in their fifties, and some have passed of natural causes.  I mourn deeply for each.

 The story  in the book about Kevin's death includes a response from the school that was helpful and effective.  I continue to honor that spiritual path even though it is not one I share.  One of the damaging consequences of a student loss is when parents or family members, in their grief, point fingers and file suit.  There are times students die of an unknown congenital abnormality, for example, and the family places blame on the school staff or faculty. In the middle of my own grief and of my efforts to reduce the trauma in other students, these actions compounded my pain and frustration in a horrible situation.

 

11.   Clearly, some of your former students have become adult friends.  Also, some of your former students you see occasionally at reunions.  What about others? Are there other students you have not seen since their high school graduation? Do you wonder about them?

Literally thousands of young people have passed through my classroom doors.  Many more have lived in my dorms, swam on my teams, or participated in my extra-curricular activities. Many students I simply don’t remember. But there are many I remember, think about, do google searches, or see pop up in social media posts as someone I may know. I am deeply moved to see student successes – especially in those people who struggled in high school. It’s a joy to see the  end product. There are students I search for and can’t find.  I wonder if they’ve been caught up in trouble and can’t participate in social media or if they died before the internet documented everything. 

As time passes, I remember less, but I will always enjoy seeing former students.  In my last years, I had taken to encouraging departing students to stay in touch and let me know, even if I become forgetful like Mrs. Wilmacar. It’s hard to be deeply committed to a person for a year or more then watch them leave, never to see them again and never to know what became of them.

12.   What are the biggest lessons you feel you taught students?

This question would be answered very differently after each decade of teaching.  In my first decade, I might answer by saying that I taught logic, organizational skills, and thinking skills.  In my second decade, I might answer by saying that I taught how to work together and manage time more effectively. After my third decade, I would say my most important lessons would be to be kind, look out for each other, and find fun in your life.

13.   What are the biggest lessons the teenagers taught you?

Their most important lessons are to be kind, look out for each person, and find fun in your life.