The Friends School of Atlanta

Bringing forward more than 329 years of excellence in Quaker Education

Everyone Deserves to be the Main Character

middle school libraryBy my second or third year of teaching Language Arts at FSA, I’d become pretty familiar with the books in my classroom. I had spent a lot of time organizing them, taking out volumes that were damaged, and generally making sure that the books were available to students not just as classroom books but as usable library books. I’d gotten pretty good at pointing students towards books that they might want to read, helping them to find stories that reflected their interests, or showing them new possible interests.

One student, however, was stumping me. They were an avid reader, and they liked romance stories, but they kept rejecting the books I suggested to them. Finally, the student told me the problem. “I don’t like reading romances,” they said, “because they’re all based on heterosexual people.”

This statement floored me.

I knew that romances and other stories that focused on LGBTQIA+ characters existed. Yet I could not name one book in our current library with that characteristic.

Here in front of me, I had a student who loved books and who loved to read, and I couldn’t successfully share stories with them because they didn’t see themselves in the books on our shelves. Their enjoyment for books was significantly damaged because they were tired of reading books that only represented the heterosexual norm.

This conversation made me wonder about the representation in the books I’d read as a student. Had I ever read a book about LGBTQIA+ characters? I could only name one gay relationship in a book: Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood from the Mortal Instruments series, which I hadn’t read until after high school. Alec and Magnus are two of my favorite characters in the series, but they are side characters. And were they the very first gay couple I’d ever read about? It’s entirely possible that they were, that I had gone through the entirety of high school and not seen gay people represented in a book.

My discovery made me question even more. Had I ever read a book with a main character on the cover who was Latina? Had I ever read a book where the main Latina character had a Latino dad and a white mom? Had I ever read a book where one of the Latina character’s main joys was playing lotería at her grandmother’s on weekends? Had I ever seen any books about Latinx people at all that weren’t about drugs or gangs or struggles?

In short: Had I ever had the chance to see myself in the stories I read?

The answer, I feared, was a resounding “no.”

When I transitioned from being the Language Arts teacher in charge of books to the Middle School librarian, I knew that more than anything, I wanted my library to be a place where students from different places and identities could find something that they loved. But that wasn’t going to be possible if students from different places and identities were not represented in the books we had.

Since my conversation with that student, my goal for our Middle School library has been to incorporate books in which students can see themselves. I sought out books that had Black children doing magic on the covers and Latinx children playing soccer. I looked for graphic novels by Gene Leun Yang, a prominent American-Chinese author, and removed books from our space that had outdated and offensive portrayals of Indigienous Peoples. I added books that feature students who aren’t neurotypical or able bodied, and I made sure that all of our stories about diversity weren’t just stories of violence or struggle.

Having a diverse library doesn’t just help students who are part of a minority group. Diverse literature helps everyone to see that there are so very many people in the world and that one way of thinking isn’t the only way. For too long, the standard of literature has been that of white male authors, and while such books can carry value, there are so many other perspectives available to us. Reading is about opening minds and learning new things, and reading books by the same kinds of people about people who look the same limits not only a student’s potential to learn, but also a student’s potential to love what they’re reading.

Students from every identity deserve to see themselves in the books they’re reading. They deserve to think of themselves as the main characters, worthy of a cover, and not just a side character or comic relief.

Today, in my 7th year at FSA, I have students in my library constantly. They come in every day and find something new to love, and if we don’t have something they can connect with, I make it my job to try and get it for them.

One of our newest, and one of my favorite shelves in our library right now, is our LGBTQIA+ fiction section. It’s small, still growing, but it is unapologetic. I think of that student from my 2nd or 3rd year and the conversation we have every time I see it. 

My biggest hope for our library is that every student will get the chance to feel welcomed, seen, and loved in this space.

 

by Yvonne Rodriguez

If you would like to send a book to the Middle School Library the dream list is here.

Goal Setting Conferences (Middle School)

Each new school year brings notebooks, backpacks, water bottles, and, at FSA, goal setting conferences. For two days in September, parents and caretakers are welcomed into classrooms to meet with their student’s advisor, who is also their homeroom teacher. These conferences involve parents in relationship-building and goal-setting that takes place during the initial weeks of school.

Middle school students and teachers begin the year with activities that build positive connections in their classroom communities. During extra homeroom sessions and in academic classes, students are invited to consider their “hopes and dreams” for the upcoming year and to write them down. They’re asked to reflect on the “more” they’d like to explore and develop as their own. After students spend time opening themselves up to the possibilities, they are given time and support to set specific, actionable, and realistic goals that will help them stretch into their potential.

When an advisor conferences with a student’s parent(s)/caregiver(s), they bring their knowledge of the hopes, dreams, and goals the student has articulated. Advisors also bring their developing sense of the student during different types of activity and different parts of the school day. They strive to discover and affirm how a student’s goodness manifests in daily actions and interactions. Mindful of the whole student, advisors draft goals for each advisee’s academic, social, and emotional growth, along with questions to ask a student’s parent(s).

During conferences, parents add their hopes and dreams for the school year, along with any questions, concerns, or information they wish to add. This information sharing leads to the development of a few significant goals tailored to the particular student’s strengths, growth areas, and learning style. Action and resource plans are discussed as needed to ensure appropriate scaffolding and support. Parents and teachers then follow-up to discuss these goals with their students and to develop routines and strategies for consistent practice and incremental progress. A key part of follow-up is eliciting and listening to student input.

A strong home-school partnership sustains and enriches student learning and personal growth. The “whole” child is truly expansive and complex. The purpose of goal setting is to support students in stretching as they claim more of their potential, more knowledge, more strategies, more resilience, more skills, more kindness, more connection, more justice, and more joy. Conferences provide an early and important opportunity for the important adults in a student’s life to share information, listen carefully to each other, and begin a dialogue that will evolve over the course of the school year and often beyond.

Uncovering the Tools for Success

Laura James, Head of Middle School, revels in the thick of
it. During her 30-plus years in education she’s felt most at home working
directly with students, always asking, “What do children need to succeed?”  That simple question pretty much sums up her
life’s work as an educator and an administrator.

In 2014 Waman French, Head of School at The Friends School of Atlanta (FSA), asked if she could step in to support the school’s growing middle school. In retrospect, the timing couldn’t have been better.

Before FSA Laura had spent years at The Children’s School in midtown Atlanta teaching various grades, from kindergarten through middle school. She then earned her master’s degree in curriculum design for learning differences. “I then realized something that has proven to be truer than anything else I know: Everybody learns differently. It’s not just that children with dyslexia learn differently. Everyone does.”

She moved up to become principal of the Children’s School
middle school program, then retired from that several years later and moved
into educational consulting. The career move that made sense at the time, since
her mind was set on retiring from school life. But then she got the call from
Waman.

“I had zero intention of returning to the world of school,” she recalled. “I had celebrated leaving it, in fact. But the honest truth is, I was mesmerized and captivated by the faculty at FSA. The kids are wonderful here, and the philosophy and mission are aligned with everything I know. But I watched how the teachers taught here, and I knew I wanted to be part of this.” Seeing FSA in action reminded her why she had wanted to teach in the first place: to help children be the best they can be—and not just academically, but socially and emotionally, too.

Laura helps teachers design curriculums that match the needs
of the kids they have. That’s not unique, especially among progressive
independent schools. “But this is more,” she said. “Here, it’s more about,
‘What can I do to help you do your job? What can I do to get things out of your
way, so you can just focus on the kids? What do you need? Once we know, let’s
get it. And it’s a moving target. It changes. But let’s do the best we can
today, and then let’s do it again tomorrow.’”

This has brought Laura’s lifelong specialty—what’s known in
educational circles as “differentiated instruction”—to another level. Again, everyone
learns differently, and teachers aim to give students the unique help they
need. This can include assistive technology like voice-to-text, but it also be
about pushing students as far as they can go, be it in math or science or a
second language. If a student proves he or she is ready for, say, high school
calculus, FSA gives that person the tools to go forth and learn, derivatives
and all.

It’s not just what students learn, but how. “For
instance, we teach various ways a student can study and how to prepare for a
test,” Laura said. “Some study with a person, some study alone, some are in
groups. And we find that, by the time kids reach 12 or 13, they’re picking the
best ways that work for them.

“In other words, they’ve learned what they need to be
successful.”

For the middle schooler— and, for that matter, all of us—this
may well be the most valuable lesson of all.

Children are Not Numbers

John demonstrates a favorite fourth grade project: the stomp rocket.

FSA fourth grade teacher John Grijak recalled sitting in his adviser’s office during his last year at college. John had excelled as an accounting major, and sure, the subject was interesting enough. After all, excelling at something tends to build confidence. But something didn’t feel quite right. Would he be happy?

“I remember my adviser saying, ‘Once you get into the real world, things are going to change. There’s a lot of drilling here in school, but you have so many different opportunities you could pursue. Besides, just look at your grades! They say you should be an accountant.’”

Life as an adult commenced. He landed a good accounting job, met his wife, moved to Atlanta, and had a son, after which he became a stay-at-home dad. The move made financial sense for his family, but in retrospect, it also opened his eyes to a new world of opportunity. He volunteered at his son’s preschool, coached T-ball and essentially did everything he could to spend more time with his son—but the experience turned out to be so much more.  

“I remember people asking me, ‘Why aren’t you in education?’ After a while, I started asking myself, ‘Yeah, why aren’t I in education?’’

During this time John and his wife were considering schooling options for their son. They could tell he was bright, and the last thing they wanted was for him to fall through the cracks. They wanted small class sizes and instruction tailored not for answers on a standardized test but for actual student needs, both academically and socially. They found all this and more at The Friends School of Atlanta.

Meanwhile, John pursued a graduate degree in education at Mercer University and student-taught at various public schools. The public schools weren’t bad, but besides their large class sizes, they took a prescriptive approach to teaching. The approach certainly worked for some, but it just didn’t feel right for him. Children are human beings, he thought, not numbers on a balance sheet or scores on a standardized test.

No wonder The Friends School of Atlanta felt right. When he substituted at the school, he met middle schoolers who weren’t anything like the stereotypical tween and young teenager. They engaged in class, spoke their minds and knew how to present a convincing argument. When he landed a full-time job at Friends as an elementary school teacher, he began to see why the school’s approach worked as well as it did. 

Teachers continually adapt their lessons to meet the needs of the children in their classrooms. Every class is unique, as is every student. Wouldn’t a cookie-cutter approach leave some students behind?

Besides, a cookie-cutter approach doesn’t reflect the world beyond the classroom. John certainly hasn’t lived a cookie-cutter life, and his students won’t either. Life isn’t a standardized test or a prescribed teaching plan set in stone. People change paths and adapt to do what’s best for them, their families, and their communities; Friends graduates learn to think about all three.

No Such Thing as a “Math Person”

Kenny Rochester, when he began teaching math about a decade ago, thought like many people do that some people were just “math people” and others weren’t. He considered himself a math person. Growing up in New York and Connecticut, he sat in math class after math class, and it all seemed to come relatively easily. When he was accepted to Atlanta’s Morehouse College and was asked to choose a major, he chose a subject that came easily to him. The choice was obvious. After all, he was a math person.

After eight years teaching middle school math at The Friends School of Atlanta, and after being trained on a teaching approach called “growth mindset,” Kenny has changed his view—and his students have benefited.

“There’s really no such thing as a ‘math person,’’’ Kenny says. “It’s really all about your experiences. In fact, those experiences can have a real impact in how successful you are. It’s about one’s willingness to make and learn from mistakes. Honestly, the growth mindset approach has really opened my eyes. I now know that all kids can learn math at a high level.”

Many like math because of its lack of ambiguity. Sure, undergrad and grad students discover the many subtleties of higher math, but when it comes to the foundational material—arithmetic, algebra, geometry, trigonometry and calculus—primary and middle school students have rules to follow. A math problem like x + y = 10 can have many right and wrong answers; but whether they’re right or wrong isn’t up for debate. An answer is eitherright or wrong, period; x equals 9, but only when y equals 1.

The students who grasp the concept quickly like its straightforward nature; they feel good when they find the right answer. Students who don’t get the right answer, though, can grow insecure in a hurry. They then think they’re just not a math person and, whether they’re conscious of it or not, they stop applying themselves in a positive manner.

Kenny has seen this happen many times, and to turn things around, he takes a multipronged approach. First, he knows that a teacher’s impatience is the enemy. He never praises students who get a problem right and, then immediately after, turn around and express disappointment with those who don’t. That just reinforces the “math person versus non-math person” stereotype.

He instead praises mistakes. When students make errors, it’s not a failure; they’re instead one step closer to getting it right. Kenny also doesn’t shower excessive praise on students who grasp math quickly. He asks them to explain what they did, find other ways to solve the problem and sometimes asks them to help their classmates.

Kenny also gives the class what he calls “low floor, high ceiling” problems—like, say, x + y = 10. The low floor allows all students to gain a solid footing; the high ceiling pushes those who are ready for the next level.

For instance, most middle schoolers grasp the basic concept and insert various answers to x and y that add up to 10; that’s the low floor. But Kenny doesn’t stop at integers. Introducing the high ceiling, he talks about the concept of infinity, that it’s not just about the fact that numbers go on forever, but that there are infinite numbers between two points on a number line. The x variable could be 5, but it also could be 5.879832, which would make y 4.120168. How do you express this? Kenny draws crosshairs on the board, a y vertical axis and an x horizontal axis, with zero in the middle, and graphs the answer.

The ceiling rises from there, and all of Kenny’s students continue to climb, reach higher, and embrace the mathematical concepts that have built our modern world.