Behaviourism works, but that doesn't mean it works in education

I've seen a lot of talk on social media about taking down behaviour charts, and I've made this comment in a few of those spaces- if behaviour charts worked, then we wouldn't need to use them in every grade every year. Because, what is the purpose of behaviour charts? To make students behave, right? So, to me, the obvious question is, if it makes them behave, then wouldn't they be a short-lived thing? Because they would all have learned to behave? It isn't just behaviour charts, but it's all of these things we use to get our students to behave. We try to bribe them with pizza parties, pajama days, cookies, anything. "If we fill this jar with marbles we will get a free movie day!" One could argue they work, because eventually that marble jar gets filled and we give them whatever we promised. But then we start all over again. And again.. and the next year it is the same thing. I ask you, then, "do they really work?"

We once had staff from another school come and talk to ours about this "school wide initiative" they instituted. Basically it was a behaviour chart for the entire school. They gave out frisbees, they gave out pizza tickets, they had a big fair at the end of the year. They praised those kids up one side and down the other. They had a great year! It was all too good! Our admin at the time was all gung-ho for this idea. But then the question was asked (and, yes, I admit it was me who asked it...), "How about this new year? Did those positive behaviours transfer over?" While they did try to put a positive spin on it, the answer was, "Not really." 

Many classroom management programs are nothing more than a behaviouristic approach. Pavlov, Skinner, and Behaviourism at its best/worst. If students do what we want, we give them a reward! The trouble is, they learn to work for a reward, and not for intrinsic motivation. It is a system that doesn't trust the student or their intellect, but relies merely on the external control of the educator.

Do students enjoy the routine and appreciate the predictable-ness of the reward? Sure do (and we'll come back to this idea later)! But do they, in turn, take that into their lives? Do the positive gains in behaviours extend to the next year? Into their out of school lives? I've never seen that happen in real time. If it did, then why would the next years teacher need to do the same thing?

Better, I believe, is putting the onus on the student to be a responsible member of the classroom. Better, in my opinion, is it that we allow students to have control over their own behaviour. Better, in my opinion, is to approach our students from a surplus mindset rather than a deficit one. If we think about the students in our class as humans who want to do well, and we act on that, we will begin to see that in them. Not every student has perfect behaviour, nor will they ever. But that's when we deal with that behaviour in a one-on-one way rather than a whole class or in front of a whole class.

This is an example of putting a mark on the paper. This was a student who was struggling with hitting other students rather than using a more appropriate method. He became very aware of how many times he was hitting because of this- and he did change his behaviour

One idea that I have been using for many years is having a child who is consistently behaving in a way that isn't conducive to a classroom community is by having them put a mark on a piece of paper every time I have had to speak to them. It seems ridiculous, way too simple, but, guess what? It works nine times out of ten. We may have to revisit this method at different times throughout  the year (I do teach kindergarten, after all), but what I find is, they don't take nearly as long to change their behaviour. The magic of this idea is that it makes a student aware of how many times they do whatever it is they are doing. So many times, they just really aren't aware of how many times they have to be spoken to. This method makes them very aware, and usually that is what it takes to make a change. 

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Classroom management is also about the attitude of the teacher. When I view my students at the beginning of the year as a group of individuals who will become a community, and I communicate this to them, they buy into the idea. We do a lot of talking about working together, talking out our problems, being a family. We read a lot of books about this. It is the main conversation throughout the month of September, and into the rest of the year.

Getting students to work together in a socially acceptable way takes work and it takes time, but when we approach it from this surplus perspective, it pays off in dividends. It creates a class of students who have empathy, who stand up for each other (even if they do argue in the classroom, haha). It creates a group of students who care about each other, and themselves. 

Now that I have made my own case against behaviour charts and the fact that they are nothing more than good old fashioned behaviourism, I am going to through a curve-ball out there: there are times when behaviourism does work!

Yes, I said that. There is definitely a place for behaviourism in our lives. When I workout, I do the same warm-up exercises, and my body relaxes into the workout. When I finish my run, I do the same stretches, and I can feel my body and my brain relax and calm down. It is the same as when I go for a run on a familiar trail. My body knows where it's going, and for how long, so it is much easier to relax into the run because I know what I am doing. I'm not spending my time wondering, "how much longer" because I already know.

I have routines I do every day. They help me order an unpredictable world. I take comfort in those routines, and when I cannot take part in them, I miss them. My day doesn't feel complete. During the school year, my morning routine is the same every day. I wake up early to work out, then I make my lunch, and I sit and drink my coffee and scroll through the internet. Finally I get ready for my day. In the evenings it's a bit of a reverse. I plan what I will wear ahead of time, what I will eat, and where I will run or walk. These routines are good for my mental health. 

In my opinion, the role of behaviourism in our lives is about helping us to make our days more orderly, not about learning to behave the way someone else wants us to. It may work on dogs, and it may work on humans for a time. But what happens when the reward is taken away? The hope is that the "positive behaviour" will continue. But if we are only doing it for a reward, then when it is gone, we will return to our old patterns. Think about those diets we have all been on. We lose the weight, but put it back on. Why? Because we worked for the reward, but didn't understand how to maintain it without a goal. When we learn to get our motivations from within, then we are better positioned to sustain the end result.

So, while I agree behaviourism works, I don't agree that it can be used to help educate our children because I don't believe it creates the intrinsic motivation needed to sustain the goal. Behaviourism helps us order our lives, but it shouldn't help us order our classrooms. 

Helped People Help People

A friend of mine posted a "positive sticky note" he made at his local Starbucks, and put it on their wall of positivity. It went something like this: Hurt people hurt people, but helped people help people". And you know what? That is so true.

I'm going to preface this blog post by saying I actually loved my paternal grandparents very much. I always loved going to visit them, and I truly have no "bad" memories of my time with them. One of my earliest memories is from when I was around 2 years old, and we were visiting them when they lived in New Jersey. I remember walking over a bridge near the ocean shore and seeing lights in the distance and my mother pointing them out to me. I remember them living in Florida in a pink house. They had citrus trees in their back yard, and I remember my father helping them spread sod when they first moved in. I loved going to Florida to see them- that was back in the olden days when you didn't just go to Florida, people didn't go away on big vacations like they do now-a-days. So it was such a treat to go down. 

But- and here is where my memories of my grandparents diverge from the sappy-grandma's lap/grandpa's front porch rocker memories I see floating around- My memories of my grandparents are waking up every morning and they were already well into their morning can(s) of beer, and their morning cigarettes. I remember going to the Tavern every day with my grandparents when we would visit. It was always the big event of the day. I first learned what a boilermaker was from my grandfather. I remember my grandparents unable to walk from one end of their small home to the other without having to stop for a breath. You see, they were chain-smoking functional alcoholics. There was always a beer ready for one hand, and a cigarette in the other. 

But I also remember my grandfather playing his organ every day. I remember him playing, Stars and Stripes Forever on his organ, but changing the words to, "Oh be kind to your web-footed friends... for a duck maybe somebodies mother..." He loved birds, and hated cats (because cats chased and ate the birds).

My brother and I on my grandfathers lap with his beloved organ.

My grandparents, and thus my father, had a darker side. When my father and his sister were younger My grandparents would pass out drunk on a regular basis. I never knew this until I was older, but my father always worked on Christmas to give other officers time off to be with their families, because he didn't have great memories of Christmas when he was younger. His memories of Christmas were of his parents passed out cold, and little to no presents. So, while so many have these images of waking up early on Christmas and rushing down to open presents, my memories are of waking up and waiting for Dad to get home. This isn't a bad memory, mind you! It's just, now that I know the reason behind my memories, it makes them much more poignant.

Many people might use the memories my father had to hate their parents, to become like them, or both. Not my father. Dad took care of his parents until their deaths. I remember him making frequent trips to Florida before each of my grandparents died, just to be there, and to do what needed to be done. I never once heard my father say a negative thing about his parents; I believe he made his peace with them long before I came into being. And I also never once remember my father being drunk, let alone passed out drunk. I was never neglected by my father. He wasn't a man of many words, but he definitely took care of his family. We always came first for him. 

Somewhere along the line, whether it was when he was younger, in the Navy, or somewhere else, someone came along to be a helper to my father. I know there are some people who can change the path they are on alone, but in my experience as a teacher, it usually takes someone else in a mentorship type role to get you to change, or alter, your direction. People talk about "grit" and they talk about "mindset", but rare is the person who comes upon grit on their own. Rare is the person who understands the power of "yet" as an individual. It usually takes a helper to help.

Today I was going through pictures with my Mom, helping her get ready to move, and I came across some pictures of Dad from when he was first on the force. Knowing my father's history makes these pictures even more special. The smile on my father's face in these pictures says it all- and knowing that he came from, what many would conclude was a neglected, if not abusive, childhood, says even more. He loved being a police officer. He truly believed he was doing his job to help those who needed it. He believed in the motto, "To Protect and to Serve". I remember seeing a poster in the 70's, of a police officer holding a bleeding child with the words, "And some will still call him a pig"- That was my dad. He had the softest heart for those in need. 

Picture of my father with a child he helped rescue from unfit parents. They left the baby out in the rain while then went to a tavern. The parents were gone for about 12 hours, and when they came home and were questioned by the police, never mentioned the baby. When my father brought up the baby to them, they finally admitted they left her. 

My father with another child who was neglected. Dad bought him a pop and a sandwich while they waited for others to get there. Also, I remember that watch vividly. 

After Dad passed away in February, so many people called Mom to tell her some of the things Dad did for them- from driving around in a squad car when he was a Sergeant, to give his officers walking the beat in the cold of winter a break, to how he helped out someone else. One of his friends developed Alzheimer's, and Dad would go every Sunday to take him golfing and over to the house for dinner. Mom once asked him why he did it, because that friend would never remember, and all Dad said was, "I would hope someone would do that for me." 

As a leader, he would stand up for his officers. He once told me that someone came in to complain about something and said to him, "I pay your salary!" To which he reached into his pocket, pulled out a nickel and said, "Here's your money back." He wasn't perfect, and I am sure that wasn't the most professional way of handling that situation, but it also shows Dad's sense of humour. But I have had some of his former officers come up to me and tell me he was the real deal, that they don't make them like my Dad anymore. Even years after he retired, his reputation as being fair and honest followed him. Once, at a high school class reunion, the husband of a classmate came up to me and said, "I never knew your father, he retired before I was on the force, but if I could ever be half the officer he was, I would be lucky." 

You see, as teachers, as leaders, as people, it is important for us to not just expect our students to do as we say, we need to mentor and model them to do as we do. Because, guess what? They're going to do as we do no matter what we say. 

Hurt people hurt people- we see that every day. But helped people help people- are we looking out for that, too? Are we being the helpers, like Mr. Rogers so famously is quoted as saying? 

That student who is lashing out at you, or others? They're hurting somehow. It's up to us to see that and help. I had a student this past year who.many would have automatically written off as mean and unpredictable. But the more I knew him, the easier it was to see the hurt. I spent a lot of time trying to help him. And so did many other professionals at our school. And, he came a very long way. He still has more to go, but I felt like we were in the right track. 

I pray, as some of us begin to prepare to head back into the classroom, while others of us are finally relaxing from the past year, that we remember that we are the Helpers. That when we help people, they return it by helping others. These are the acts that will make us all stronger every day. 

PS, though I never saw my Father drunk doesn't mean he never drank. He very much did. He taught me to make him a gin martini when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I mean, it was the 70's, it was a very different time 😉😂

Beauty in the Fly-Over Places

Rich Mullins, probably my favorite singer/songwriter ever (RIP), once sang, "There's so much beauty around us, for just two eyes to see. But everywhere I go... I'm looking." I often think of that line. Have you ever thought about the beauty around you? Whether you live in a city, or the country, on an island or in the mountains, or even on the prairies, there is so much beauty around us.

I grew up in Illinois, in the (at the time) second largest city in the state. Now I live on an island in the Canadian Maritimes, the smallest province in Canada. I often take pictures and post them on social media, because I believe this world needs a little more beauty to counteract the ugliness. I get so many comments about my life on my little island- how beautiful it is in all seasons (and it is!). But today, as I walked through a restored prairie, near a river, I marvelled at the way the sun reflected off of the green leaves and off of the water. It's a scene I would not have found as beautiful in my youth.

Growing up in the Midwest, I think we get used to feeling inferior to the coasts. We don't have beaches, other than along a lake or river. We don't have mountains to climb. We do have lots and lots of land, and you can pretty much see forever. But, we focus on what we don't have, and we start to believe that it truly is "fly-over country", that it has little to offer to the much sexier big cities of the east and west. We start to believe the lie that there isn't much to see but corn and beans.

As I grow older, and perhaps because I've lived away for many years, I can now see the beauty that exists in this "fly-over" place. The way the birds sing, how the grasses are so tall you can't see over them. It is said that way back when, in order to see over the prairie grass, one had to stand on the back of one's horse- it was that tall. The colours of the wild flowers form the most beautiful bouquet, no one needs to arrange them. There is life in this place. The dirt is so fertile, you can grow pretty much anything. Because you can see forever, you always know where the rivers, streams, and other bodies of water are- it's where all the trees grow! 

There is a trail in PEI that I love, and the reason I love it is because it reminds me of walking near the Kishwaukee River in Illinois. It's a little taste of home on my little island. It's not an easy trail to find, but once you do, you can walk for a few miles along a river bank, and it seems you're in a different world.

Today, walking along the river, I thought about the beauty around us. How a dandelion pushes up through a crack in the sidewalk, how the birds sing every morning, how the sun reflects off of a building, or a tree. We do have so much beauty around us- I hope we never lose the eyes to see it.

On this July 4th

Went for a run today. Drove 3 days, woke up, and ran in a July 4th 8K race. It's somewhat of a tradition for me, if I'm in IL on the 4th- because I'm a little crazy like that. But it's a fun race, and I love to see all of the people with their red white and blue tutu's, sparkly headbands, clothes, etc. Today I even saw a woman dressed like Lady Liberty and running with her torch. It's one of those times that makes you smile.

I live in Canada, so last summer I was unable to come. The pandemic was at its beginning, and everyone and everything was so confusing. I decided to not make the trip home. I still wrestle with that decision. On the one hand, I don't think there was anything I could do but stay home, honestly. But on the other hand, it was the last summer my father was alive. So I missed that "one more" summer. 

But this year, we drove across the border and made our way to IL. We will have my father's memorial service later on this month, and I am helping my mom pack up to move to a new, more accessible place. It's not really a vacation, though I will have some spots of relief. 

My favorite part of crossing the border? Not the questions, honestly, or the fact that every single border guard always comments on how the initials on the license plate don't match anyone in the car (I live in the smallest province in Canada, we're limited in what we can do, lol). But, it's when they let us go and the last thing they say is, "Welcome Home!" 

America may have its issues, we can all appreciate that. But no matter where I roam, America will always be home.

When I was at the run today, I was struck by something. Here are all of these people, most don't know each other, of all backgrounds. There was a rainbow of skin tones, sizes, hair color, languages, you name it. And there were all kinds of smiles (at the beginning of the run at least- and when we got the post run pancakes). And you know what else? No one knew who you voted for, no one asked, no one cared. No one knew what TV news commentators you listened to, no one talked politics. It's almost as if... it didn't exist!

My point? Maybe we are divided politically. Maybe we disagree on how this country should be run. But also, maybe we aren't as divided as humans as the media and social media makes us believe. I didn't feel unsafe today. I was alone, in a different city, just doing my thing, and not once did I fear that someone would start harassing me about my belief system. It was wonderful. And it got me thinking, why do we allow outside forces to tell us what we should be upset about? Why do we allow others to tell us what someone else thinks or believes? Why do we allow so much hatred into our living rooms and homes? 

We have a new pandemic, one that has been brewing for a long time, but has exploded since the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic- it's the pandemic of Outrage. Scroll through Facebook or Twitter and you'll see it. Watch cable news (all of it!) and you'll hear it. All of that hate and vitriol. Why do we allow that? Because maybe it's addictive, and we are outrage addicts? And all of these people that spew it, know that. They know you're going to come back each day and night for your "hit" of anger and outrage. And they love it. They love that they can manipulate us and make money off of it! 

I have a prescription for this Outrage. I call it Outrage Detox. Spend a weekend, just 2 or 3 days, offline, and off the TV. Get outside. Go for a walk or hike. Go to a coffee shop- a fancy one, or a mom and pop one, and just observe people. Watch how they smile at one another, how they help each other out. I remember driving through West Virginia a few years ago. We stopped at a Waffle House. It was one of the most inspiring breakfasts I've had- and not because the food was fantastic. But the people who worked there, the regulars who ate there- they were of varied ethnic backgrounds, yet they laughed and joked with each other, treated each other with respect and dignity.

Maybe it's time we do that. Stop complaining about how "those people" are ruining America, and smile at them. Shake a hand. Realize we ALL love America. We may have different ideas about how to run her, but it's a difference of opinion, not the cause for a civil war. 

My challenge to you, on this day of Independence, in the month of July, is this: Stop viewing others as the enemy, and start viewing them as your brother and your sister, your Fellow American's. Stop worrying about what's happening in Washington, and start trying to improve where you are right now. That's how we will change the world. That's the only way we will change the world.