A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.

My "favorite" Easter decoration

It is Easter candy season in my house.  I have the only Easter decoration I own, a bowl with a chick face on it, out with Easter candy filling it up (at least it is filled for about three minutes, and then it begins its rapid decent.)  I usually purchase the mixed bag of Hershey's chocolates to put in my phenomenal holiday spirited decor (the bag with the peanut butter cups, mini-candy bars and kisses.)  The kisses are always the last to go around here.  The other candy is easy to unwrap, and seems to offer a greater pay-off, if we are talking sheer chocolate/sweet ratio.  The kisses look small and do require a tiny bit more work.  But, I love the kisses.  As far as sheer chocolate, they really have a bigger pay off if you can get past the obvious "size" issue (I know, some people are obsessed with size, and if that's your thing, I won't judge).  Hershey's has tried to overcome this obstacle by offering unwrapped kisses so you don't have the hassle of peeling off the wrapper and you can get to your chocolate in a more immediate fashion, but I like the unwrapping part.  It is part of the joy of a Hershey's kiss.  I think I like them better because I have to sit and carefully unwrap the reward, I can't just rip into it.  I guess it is why I love teaching.  It is the unwrapping that leads to the pay off. 

This week was a wonderful week at school.  We are past the high stakes testing, and we are back to doing our thing.  It is also awesome because in both of my classes we are engaging with part of the year I love the most (until the next part, then I will love that the most).  I am teaching The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to my 11th grade classes, and student directed dystopian novel selections to my 12th graders.  I know, you are right now reading this wondering how one woman can be so lucky, and I will tell you I really don't know, but I know you wish you were me right now!  The greatest thing about teaching these books is that each time I teach them, the students help me recognize something new.  It is truly like unwrapping a gift each year. 


We had our Socratic seminar on Margret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale this Thursday.  The way I am working the literature circles this year is new for me, and I kind of like it.  I probably will change it next year, but my idea was for the students to choose the novels they wanted to read, and then they are selecting 3-5 passages they believe are significant, providing the class a synopsis of the novel, and some overarching questions the novel asks, then students are leading their own Socratic seminars.  Thursday was our first one.  It was pretty intense (this novel is pretty intense), but I thought the students did a phenomenal job.  One of the things my students really want to talk about during this novel is the idea of the importance of ownership--what does it matter if you own something?  They also talk a lot about value--how does value increase or decrease based on the idea that something is YOURS?  Not really relevant to this blog post, but keep in mind these are seniors in high school at Spring Break time, and they are thinking these thoughts (I feel super confident in the future of our country, just as an aside.)  The discussion was plugging a long, and one of my students was intently listening and taking many notes.  A Socratic seminar is a tricky thing to navigate as a teacher because you can't just grade based on who talks the most.  I have a complicated system because it is NOT just about who talks, but it is equally about WHO LISTENS that really matters to me.  I called the two minute warning, and another, more confident student asked my quiet student about her thoughts.  In fact, she said something about noticing she was really listening and she would love to hear her thoughts.  The quiet student took a breath and said something exceptionally profound about value.  Suddenly, the entire atmosphere changed.  At the end of the discussion, nearly every student said that the quiet student's comment was the best of the discussion.  The value of that comment came from that student sitting, methodically unwrapping her ideas, and presenting them in a perfect, seemingly small, but surprisingly intense morsel of perfection for the rest of us to enjoy.  It took someone else reaching in and offering her the chance, but the pay off--oh my goodness.

That student felt such confidence after that.  Her belief in herself changed.  Everyone knew, for that moment, she was a rock star.  So many students said things like, "I never would have thought of it that way, but it really made me think about _______."  or "I really appreciated __________'s comment, she helped me understand/connect this idea in a new way."  As we left the room, many students went up to her and told her what a great job she had done.  She was smiling from ear to ear.  

You see, I guess one of the things I cherish is that "unwrapping" part.  The part where you sit, a little bit frustrated, wishing you could just get to it already.  In the moment, it feels like wasted time.  Sometimes students get uncomfortable--what is she waiting for?  It is the unwrapping that makes the pay off sweeter.  I forget this a lot, and I admit I often just go for the easy route, the candy that unwraps in one piece and can be thoughtlessly devoured in 1.2 seconds.  I let the loud students dominate because they can, because time is ticking and we need to move on.  But, when you stop to let everyone take just an extra second, you spend 5 seconds instead of one getting to the heart of something, the results will be sweeter.  I guess what I cherish is pausing, "unwrapping"--discovering on your own, what the value of something is.  I cherish the profound that can only be gotten from the pause.  So, I urge you, go ahead, waste a few seconds waiting and then reflect and see if it was really wasted.  I don't know, I'll be busy unwrapping another chocolate!