First-Name Basis

The first time a student called me “Mr. Scuderi,” I almost turned around looking for my father. It took me a second to realize that I had made it. I had become a teacher. I had earned the privilege of going by my last name. I was proud, and it was now my job to earn the authority “Mr. Scuderi” conveyed and to teach students what I knew.

Only when I changed schools years later and landed in a community where everyone is on a first-name basis with students did I realize I had it all wrong. It’s not about authority. It’s not me over here and students over there. It’s us. Here. Together. Teaching is about relationships. Something as simple as our names communicate so much more.

It has been a humbling experience to know I had it all wrong. Education, though, is entirely about humility. The first years of teaching are some of the most exhausting because they are so humbling. They teach you that you don’t know as much about teaching as you thought. They teach you that there is a finite amount of time for an infinite amount of lessons and differentiation. They teach you that it will all never be enough. And they teach you to try to be okay with that.

So, what’s in a name? That which we call a teacher by first or last name would teach as sweet. As an administrator now, part of my job involves restorative justice meetings with students. When I was growing up, these conversations would be about being in trouble and saying “I’m sorry.” Now, though, I approach it entirely differently. And it starts with my name.

The more we know about students, the better we're able to teach. The more they know about us, though, the better they're able to learn.

Kids come to my office and meet with Danny. I’m another adult in their life just like their classroom teacher is another adult in their life, and we are all here to help kids on their journey of learning anything and everything. I don’t have the answers. I never do. That’s not the job. The job is to help kids figure out the answers on their own, and for each child, in each situation, those answers may be different.

Knowing students makes part of that possible. But they have to know us as well. They have to trust us in order to allow us to help them learn. When students come to my office, they’re usually nervous. They feel like they’re in trouble. In truth, they are not wrong, but it would not be helpful to exacerbate those feelings. Kids don’t learn out of fear. They learn when they understand.

So I always start these conversations like I did as a teacher--as a conversation. I need to bring down the anxiety so that they can be open to empathy. So, we talk. I just want to know what happened because we’re just having a conversation. And just so you know, in this room, nothing leaves. This is between us. And just between us, I want to tell you about something on my mind before each of you share with me what happened and how it made you feel. I made a few mistakes today, and I’m feeling badly about it. Maybe you two can help me and then we can talk about how I can help the both of you. Does that sound good?

Each conversation looks different. They should. They involve different students, and if they involve the same students, there are different contexts. For kids, context is everything. So, if the job is to help them understand, they need to be open to receiving that help. Knowing that I’m Danny, that I started the day with 7 mistakes, that I keep dinosaur toys in my office because I like dinosaurs, and that we are just having a conversation helps facilitate their learning. I’m not giving them anything. They are creating it for themselves.