The Perks of Being a Not-so-Wallflower

I like to think of myself as sitting in a dark theater or in the corner of a bar musing in quiet mystery. Seeing myself as a enigmatic rogue is completely divorced from reality.  I have many, many abilities; maintaining a low profile is not one of them.  

Whether it is "Miss Tracey" or "Mrs. Dann"  people everywhere seem to know me.   Sometimes I am "Mama Bear", sometimes it is "the lady with the hat."  Usually the descriptor "crazy" is attached to my epithet somewhere.  Regardless of what people call me, one thing remains true, I suck at anonymity.  

 It is a blessing. It is a curse. But it is always intentional.  

    One of my biggest disadvantages as a student teacher is time.  Relationships are a key element of classroom management, engagement, and every aspect of learning.  With only three hours a week to spend with a hundred different students, it is very difficult to make a connection and establish trust - unless you find a shortcut.  

Each morning I drink two cups of chai tea from the beat up head of a Star Wars villain. It is my favorite shortcut.

  Sometimes a Storm Trooper, sometimes Boba Fett, and sometimes I drink from Vader himself. Every morning my mug and I perform a Jedi Mind Trick.  Students don't realize my mugs match the exact calorie count of a Starbucks latte or that I found them on clearance at Rite Aid filled with old Valentine candies.  They don't care. Yet, when I greet them at the classroom door once a week, some of them will look up from their shoes and say "cool mug."   The Jedi mind trick worked.   I have made eye contact, I have their attention and perhaps a common interest. The students who engage with me on their way into the classroom are more likely to listen and learn once they get inside.  It is a tiny middle school miracle.

    While Star Wars is fairly universally known, the Force does not run strong in every family.  My mugs do not always work.  Following the same logic, I began to look for other props and trinkets that might crack the shell of different class members.  My daughter, Princess Grace, received a "golden snitch" necklace for Christmas last year.  I put it on one morning and headed into my teacher’s classroom.  Before the final bell I could tell you which students read the Harry Potter series, which students preferred the movies, who their favorite characters were and much more. Each morning since, a student asks me what book my necklace is from. I am constantly looking for jewelry that reminds me of a piece of literature. I have even used it to generate inquiry at the beginning of a unit.

Here are just a few of the examples I've found:

And where would this hitchhiking student teacher be without a pair of earrings?  

    I recently attended the Summer Institute on Digital Literacy with over 180 other teachers.  I carried my mug with me every day.  The final day of the conference I was approached by one of my fellow attendees.  She said "I've watched your mugs all week. Why do you carry them with you?"  My answer is always the same "because now I've met you."

While they work against my love of anonymity, my mugs have taught me something important; what someone notices about you, helps you learn about them.  Learning about each other is the business we are in.

Right Sean Connery?