Psst: Hey, Bud. C’mere. How Would You Like to Buy. . .an A?
by Paul Hankins
(cue the “sneaky” music)
Today’s post is an attempt to square up what an A means. And how we might come to an agreement that the distinction tied to this particular letter can mean something different to the student who earns one and to the teacher who offers them. But, first. . .
“Lefty” was a recurring muppet character in the early days of Sesame Street. Clad in a trenchcoat and black hat, he would approach an unsuspecting Ernie with a slithery summoning: “Psst. Hey, bud. C’mere. . .”
Lefty would attempt to sell Ernie items like an empty box, air, the letter O, an 8. One time, Lefty tried to sell a V which he was able to stretch out to a U to demonstrate its versatility and utility.
But never an A. I thought to take on Lefty’s tout to say something about. . .A.
Hey, Bud. C’mere. . .let me tell you about A.
And (which starts with A), I’ll have more to tell you than sell you. Much of what I might share about A are things of which you are already. . .aware.
One is “anxiety.” From writing a guest post for Ethical ELA, fully-cognizant of the kind of people who write for Ethical ELA. Smart people. Really. Smart. People. Part of this comes from knowing Ethical ELA readers would certainly never fall for a simple tout that began with “Pssst.”
The letter A can stand for two familiar parts of any classroom: assignments and assessments. But, the letter A can also stand for the affirmations that are also an affordance of the act of both. And the affirmation in absentia that can arise from either.
If you’re following, I’ve provided enough As so that every reader could have one. Take one.
In Room 407 of Silver Creek High School, we have a Gold Star posted by the light switch by the door wherein seniors enter and exit the room. What began as a simple experiment in 2019 has become a small tradition of which incoming seniors are already aware when they enter the room. I’d love to invite you to read the account of the Gold Star. If you are comfortable in doing so, that story is pinned to my wall at the social media site formerly known as Twitter (users were touted to accept an X in order to maintain contacts with some of the best and brightest voices in education). The story of our Room 407 Gold Star is the pinned tweet: @paulwhankins.
In Room 407, we also have a special trunk that is filled with As. As a “letterpress” collage artist, I collect letters as I rummage through resale shops (the back wall of our classroom is an homage to the Eames studio that displayed various letters on the wall of the creative space). In this trunk are enough As for everyone at the beginning of the year to have and to hold. There are As in all shapes and colors. Some are even comic book themed As featuring Marvel characters. Some are collaged As I have made from galleys of picture books I receive from publishers. I even go so far as to invite students to keep the A that seems to speak to them so that it can remain ever close.
To date, I have never had a student take me up on the offer of a “free A.”
The platitude of “An A is yours if you can keep it” does not reach the innermost parts of my students who stay awake, alert. . .anxious for the next A.
And, this is where I take a different angle. A different approach. The affirmation of the Gold Star is one we can tell on the first day and the students get it.
The idea of an A that comes of affirmation via assignments and assessments is one we all realize over the course of the year.
Seniors in Room 407 know that no assignment crosses the student desk that is not done, in real-time–not the year before–with them as they begin their work. This sort of partnership in the work squares away the idea that if the work is worth doing, it is being done by the lead learner as well as every learner in the room.
And the way we add to assignments is based upon the one place I feel we could capture more affirmation. In reflection:
How did this assignment go for you? What did your approach look like? What did the workflow look like? Good work is never done; it is only due. How might your work move forward past this date of submission?
They know. . .that I really want to know. This. . .in addition to what was taught:
What did you learn about yourself as a student doing this work?
Seniors in Room 407 come to know that assessment can happen in the moment, on the spot. In our Introduction to Public Speaking class, the group spends a little more time than most rooms in the post-speaking feedback. Speakers take a comfortable brown chair right next to the podium to tell their audience what they need specifically, in this moment, to hear from the room. And from their teacher.
All of this comes to two things I know for sure:
Assign. . .and work alongside.
Assess. . .and find a way to acknowledge. From the French, “accolor.” Affirm.
The results in how students are affected by this two-step approach are steeped in a one word that starts with Q that doesn’t seem to hold as much appreciation as another that also starts with Q: Qualitative vs. Quantitative. This is about the quality of the life of a student in the room.
Psst. Hey, Buddy. C’mere. . .wanna buy a narrative? It’s a story of how we offer As and the manner in which a student might receive them. Assignments. Assessments. . .affirmations both. Of the work we do together in A space in the course of A year.
Author
Paul W. Hankins is a teacher and a student in Room 407 at Silver Creek High School in southern Indiana. He teaches two dual credit courses: AP English Literature and Composition and Introduction to Public Speaking/Interpersonal Communications. This is his twentieth year in the classroom. He can be found, friended, and followed in various social media platforms. He lives in Floyds Knobs, Indiana with his wife, Kristie, a nurse practitioner. His two children are in college studying information technology and elementary education. Most of his days are spent with Kit-Kat, a yorkie named Pepper, and Fletcher the Hound Dog.
Somehow, you always manage to tug me back into a part of my childhood that I remember once you bring it forward again (with both Lefty and Fletcher). You are one of the smart reasons to spend time here. Thanks for a great post!
Fabulous post, Paul! I still use your Blockhead poem variation in words on Jenga blocks to inspire poems. Many students have created poems because of your inspiration to make those blocks, and we have created baskets on themes too. And just a P.S. – Fletcher is my favorite hound and needs his own adventure series picture book. He puts a smile on my face every time I see his picture!