Talk About Students

That explained, however, why it was precisely in this school that my students struggled with writing in ways that their intelligence and brilliance in math didn’t compute. No student in that school felt safe to reveal who she really was if she could be judged, skewered, and barbecued by a complete staff of teachers. I doubt the students knew this particular piece of information, but the culture of the school fostered this innate knowledge.

“Hide yourself,” whispered the walls of this school, “or you won’t get into the seminary of your choice.”

I reached out to all my online groups, my fellow writers and fellow social workers. I said, “I want to hear your opinions as teachers, parents, therapists, and former students about school policies regarding speaking about students.”

I wrote, “What do you think about sharing information about students to teachers before the school year begins? What do you think about have a round-table discussions with all the teachers present about each student in the grade before PTA? Do you have an opinion about the informal discussions about students in the Teacher’s Room? What happens when a student shares with you information privately, either because she trusts you as her teacher, or because you are the school therapist; would you tell? Who and why?”

I added one more question because so many of my clients talk about this to me. “What is your opinion about teachers or principals telling students not to be friends with another student, sometimes sharing information with that student in order to be more convincing?

You will not be surprised to hear the storm of emails that landed in my inbox, sharing with me their take on being teachers, mothers of students, former students, and therapists.

The nicest part about reading all the emails was from the teachers and rebbeim who sounded like the most amazing, dedicated, psychologically savvy human beings who cared about each student with such attunement and adherence to the halachos of lashon horah, and confidentiality from an ethical standpoint.

Obviously, the former students who wrote in their experiences were not in these skilled rebbeim’s and teachers’ classrooms.

Should teachers and rebbeim be given information about their students before the school year?

Overwhelmingly, elementary school teachers and rebbeim voted for yes, while high school teachers were divided in their opinions.

Along these lines, many respondents pointed out that it is imperative for a teacher to know hilchos lashon horah, to really understand what L’toeles means; not to just bandy it around to give teachers a heter to say anything they choose.

Let’s differentiate first the type of information that that these mechanchim and mechanchos felt is necessary to share, a true toeles.

YK, a high school rebbe and General Studies teacher articulated this conundrum and its solution perfectly. He said that there are two categories: beneficial and non-beneficial information. Beneficial information, he says, is sharing facts that can enable a teacher to better serve the child. Facts can be details of a home or personal situation that may include a divorce, death, illness, or diagnosis (ADHD, Asperger’s, hearing impaired). What all of these have in common is their objectivity.

Once objective information is shared, opinions about which techniques can help the child can be helpful. Opinions about where the child can sit in the classroom to decrease distractibility, for example, or allowing the child to run errands when she seems antsy in class.

What is non-beneficial information? Labels and impressions of a child that is an opinion rather than fact; subjective as opposed to objective. These are opinions of a child that usually a prior teacher or principal has formed. For example, the opinion that a child is a troublemaker, not motivated to learn, a bully, lacks confidence, or has poor intelligence. And once these opinions about a child are evident, this teacher should definitely NOT be giving opinions further about how to help the child, because these negative lenses through which the child is viewed can only mean one thing. The mechanech is far from a mechanech should sell real estate instead. None of these opinions should be shared at all, to give the child to try again with a new teacher in a new classroom.

Now that we have identified this crucial difference, many elementary school pedagogues describe the devastation that occurs if the teacher fails to be informed.

A first grade Rebbe in Phoenix AZ describes various disturbing incidents that he and his wife, another sterling mechaneches, have encountered.

His wife innocently asked her three year old student about her Mommy only to have the child announce in front of the entire class “I don’t have a Mommy”.

It’s hard to know, says the rebbe, if it was my wife, the other students, or the child herself, who was most traumatized by this incident.

The school neglected to inform him that one of his first grade students couldn’t partake in traditional school activities because he was switching foster homes, that he had been removed from his home because his parents, when their home became infested with all types of bugs, lived in a zip up tent in their living room instead of treating the house.

Another student, holding a neatly packed change of clothes, raised his hand during class and said, “I wet my pants. Can I change?”

“These children are at a disadvantage, due to no fault of their own. Why should they also have to bear the burden of hiding/protecting themselves/answering uncomfortable questions?” asks this sensitive rebbe. “Knowing these facts can only help a caring teacher provide the proper care to these already hurting children.”

Another teacher, who is currently also a mental health professional, agrees and shares her personal experience when information that should have been shared, was not shared.

“My mother is a convert and I struggled most of my school years because my teachers’ ignorance. I had made it really well socially; however, I struggled internally with constantly feeling different due to the comments made by the people I trusted and looked up to.

“You should never read books written by a Ger or Geyoris as they have skewed views and messed up Hashkofos,” said one teacher. Or “All goyim are evil and do not have any tafkid or meaning in life…”

            For me, it felt as though they were directing their comments toward my family and me.

It was Purim time and I shared with my second grade class that I will be dressing up as the Wicked Witch of the West. After I happily shared in detail how my costume looked my teacher didn’t hesitate and made a “general announcement” that whoever does not dress like a “fine Jewish girl” should not come to her house and bring her mishloach manos on Purim

“I work with gifted children” says another teacher, and my job is to help teachers address their needs in the same way special ed consultants help teachers modify their work to address the needs of differential learners. But I have learned that some teachers become all prickly and defensive when information about a child’s gifts are shared.

“My lessons are on a super high level and they can’t be bored,” they say; or “That question was just chutzpadik and kefira“; or’ “he should sit and behave himself. Who does he think he is just because he’s clever?”

These teachers are often better off without the information because unfortunately they tend to use it to turn the child into a scapegoat.”

            “I am somewhat emotionally biased about this topic because of a story that happened when I was in high school, wrote a teacher. By mistake, my teacher left THE PAPER on her desk after she left our classroom.

“Below average,” it said about one girl. About another, “she needs a push,” and in yet  another one a comment about family issues. It was Tisha B’av in our classroom. The principal informed us how immature we are and how it wasn’t the teacher’s fault.  I felt very hurt for my classmates and I purposely flunked the final; the only time I ever did that.

“Paradoxically enough, as a first year teacher, after tryouts for my sixth graders’ play I left the paper on which I marked comments about the girls’ performances. I couldn’t forgive myself for years until I reached out to ask a specific student for forgiveness.”

A teacher shared this poignant memory of herself as a child. “I struggled in school and that often played out as inattentive/class-clown-y/missing work/etc. One year I decided I was going to turn over a new leaf and I was really, really, really going to try. Like 7th grade or so, a good time to start maturing and taking responsibility. While I was hanging out in the hall on the first day of school, I overheard one of my teachers from the previous year telling one of my new teachers, to watch out for me because I was trouble.  I gave that teacher extra attitude on purpose just for that. So she can tell the old teacher she was right…”

She added, “Most children will show you their true colors a few weeks into the school year. And for those that don’t, it’s an opportunity for a fresh start.They deserve that much.”

Most high school teachers felt it unimportant to share information.

“I did not appreciate that the principal held a conference call in the beginning of the year to describe each kid. I didn’t want any preconceived ideas,” said one.

“I did want to know about the serious information like divorced parents, cancer, or deaths,” said another, “so that I shouldn’t put my foot into my mouth.” But then reversed herself and wrote, “Even though I wasn’t sure that the students appreciated when teachers tiptoed around taboo topics.”

This echoes a heated conversation around this topic that a group of post-school girls were having about their thoughts on whether or not a teacher should be informed if a girl’s parent had died. The interesting piece about this was that no two girls had the same opinion, even though they had all lost a parent and been in high school.

What they all agreed upon, however, is that teachers are forgiven for mistakes if they possess the authenticity and genuineness required of a teacher. High schoolers can sniff out hypocrisy and insecurity in a minute.

A high school teacher phrased it beautifully. “What I do now is try to forget about my notes on each girl for the first few weeks. When I take them out several weeks into the year, they complete a picture rather than form one.”

What about the round-table discussion?

            None of them, except for a teacher in the field for a half a century believed the round table discussions should exist. If a teacher has an issue with a student, why do all the other teachers need to know about it? If it’s a common problem with all the teachers, then the principal can make a decision to have a joint meeting l’toeles.

I do want to point out that when I was a seventh grade teacher, I had a student who really pushed all the wrong buttons for me. In a grade of 75 girls who mostly adored me, I didn’t know how to work with her. It was so bad that I have since called her to apologize but my apologies have fallen on deaf ears. I will live with that guilt all my life. However, I remember that towards the end of the year when this girl crashed and burned in my class, only then, in an informal Teacher’s Room shmooze, did another teacher share with me how incredibly gifted and special this student was; how she waited each day to teach her from the entire grade she taught. Had I known this information earlier, I think I would have taken stock of my own inept teaching strategies an attempts to reach her.

Maybe the round table should only be about how wonderful each girl is.

            Just an idea.

But it’s not an idea that can work in a Teacher’s Room. Because we know how Lashon hora often starts. With someone saying something good. Like what happened to me when I was in high school. A friend of mine happened to be getting a coffee in the Teacher’s Room. She was a first year teacher so nobody really paid attention to her. She was invisible to the oldies. One oldie, whose class I adored, said, “Did you hear that Mindy didn’t get accepted into BJJ?” And gave me a compliment about how I should have been.

Another teacher who taught a class that I found difficult, promptly said, “Good that she didn’t. She doesn’t deserve it.”

When I heard feedback from my invisible teacher-friend, I was shocked, unaware that this teacher had such strong negative feelings towards me.

(The good news is that about fifteen years later, still stinging from that comment, I confronted her, let her know how I enjoyed my seminary year in BJJ, and  she expressed remorse and immediately apologized.)

Dangerous place that Teacher’s Room, no? For teachers and students alike.

How do we treat student confidences?          

A licensed play therapist and master clinician wrote, “As an social worker that worked in schools as well as collaborating with schools right now, it is imperative that teachers and principals (and mentors) understand the responsibility that they have in shaping students ability to trust adults. School is many times the first time these pre-teens and teens have reached out to someone not in their family and too many times they have been hurt by having their words feelings or actions shared even if done for a good purpose. It takes a while to repair that rupture. I wish teachers would honor the responsibility of being trusted with information and assume that responsibility by discussing with the student if they need to share.”

This sentiment is echoed by a teacher turned client.

“I have to admit that I am enamored by the concept of confidentiality in therapy. I think that the educational scene needs lots more of this. I wonder if we can change a lot of trust issues in this generation by having teachers and principals aware of the impact of breaching  a students trust by sharing information she has shared. It never occurred to me as a teacher that I am breaching a girl’s trust by discussing freely everything about her when I was questioned, investigated, and grilled by the principal and remedial director.  As a woman in therapy now, I am amazed by how my thinking has shifted and changed, how I understand people differently, and how I see so many avoidable mistakes being made in the educational department.”

Another veteran teacher said, “I never trusted adults [as a result of a teacher calling my mother with information I told her in confidence]. That one time I opened up was the last time I did until about 8 years later when I landed in therapy, and learned to start trusting again.”

Rebbetzin Feige Twerski said, tongue in cheek, “A long time ago a Bais Yaakov of Boro Park teacher said, ‘We talk about girls, we don’t talk to them’.”

What’s the story with telling students not to be friends with other students?

            “You might call me naive,” says a high school teacher, “but I found trying to split up friendships never worked Most 14 year-old friends aren’t friends for life and it’s a pity to have children feel resentment towards an institution that should be guiding them through their developing years.”

And then she says something so powerful it should be a sign hanging in every office and teacher’s room.  “ I think the bottom line here is that there should be an outlook that schools aren’t for creating good girls, rather it’s providing the tools that help children develop the goodness that’s already within them.”

I love this one from a former teacher. “School mixing into friendships? Really now? Has anyone found a way that it works without causing more harm than good? I’m just wondering.” It made me laugh because we all know how true it is. And the only ones who are not laughing are those students who were torn apart and years later they sit in my therapy office, crying.

Most teachers are in the field because they love their students and they love what they do. I know how much I still miss the classroom, miss a fresh crop of students each year, treasuring the work and relationships each year brought.

But when we make mistakes, ignorance is not an excuse.

Nu, let’s have a round-table discussion about this, then?

Originally published in Binah Magazine