By Derrick Brown (follow on Twitter @dbrowndbrown)
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Care and “Feeding” (678 Words)
By Derrick Brown (Join Our Mailing List!)
Classroom Fridays do not contribute to "highlight reels."
They are made for survival ... and for learning what “care” really means.
By the 40th day of school, patience runs thin, tensions rise, and what remains is a delicate balance between firm discipline and genuine nurture.
That is what I call care and feeding.
On this particular Friday, I faced three separate incidents of student disrespect before and after lunch.
Each demanded a dose of what I jokingly call “Firm Friday Harshness” ... not cruelty, but the kind of boundary-setting that says, enough is enough.
By the time I left a meeting filled with fearful, complaining colleagues, I knew: the reservoir was low. And yet, the work of “feeding” remained.
Feeding the Body
The day began, as it often does, with food.
A missed breakfast cart meant my pantry became the cafeteria.
Cereal bars disappeared in minutes.
It was more than a snack ... it was a triage.
Hungry kids cannot learn.
“Hangry” kids will not listen.
Passing out food felt like passing out peace … a small sacrament of classroom survival.
I did not mind being “cleaned out.”
Feeding the body was the first step toward feeding the mind.
Feeding the Mind
The quiz I gave that day was short but sharp: a debate between two students over whether a graphed figure showed a reflection or a translation.
On paper, it was a math problem.
In practice, it was an invitation to “SEE, SAY, and SHOW.”
With my hand as the figure, I used my thumb and middle finger as anchors.
Slide the whole hand? Translation.
Flip it across a line? Reflection.
When students JE and MOH both gasped with an “OHHHH,” I knew we had “cracked the code.”
That was care ... meeting them at their level, guiding their vision, then demanding they articulate what they saw.
Feeding the mind is equal parts demonstration and demand.
In 2B, the feeding became dialogue.
A small group clustered, questioning whether a reflection could also look like movement.
“Good question,” I said, sketching quick diagrams.
The conversation shifted from mimicry to analysis … from copying the teacher’s notes to naming truths with their own words.
Several heads nodded in recognition.
For those few minutes, the labor of teaching felt lighter.
Feeding the Spirit
3B was another story.
My attempt to feed the whole group fell flat ... “visual learners” retreated into “temples of their familiar”, others hiding behind laughter.
But even here, care found its way through the cracks.
CK, who had struggled visibly with plotting points the day before, brought me her notes to scan.
She proudly showed me an iPad game she downloaded to practice on her own.
Her peers mocked her effort, but she pressed on.
Later, I overheard her telling a classmate she had been “doing it right” yesterday while I kept saying “wrong.”
I chose not to bristle.
I chose to hear it as saving face, not betrayal.
That, too, is care ... choosing to interpret with grace, even when weary.
Feeding and Facing Limits
“Feeding” is not always effective.
Sometimes food and metaphors and patience still fall short.
Sometimes the disrespect, the fatigue, and the noise drown out the breakthroughs.
But even then, the attempt matters.
Feeding means refusing to give up on the possibility of learning, connection, or redemption.
It means believing that a laugh in the middle of a math problem, or a gasp when a hand-flip finally “clicks,” can be enough to carry us forward.
I am in my “last days” as a classroom teacher.
That recognition has shifted my perspective.
What matters is not the number of quizzes graded or the meetings survived, but the moments of care ... feeding bodies, minds, and spirits in small, stubborn ways.
On this Friday, “care and feeding” looked like granola bars, hand gestures, honest dialogue, and quiet encouragement.
Tomorrow, it may look different.
But the principle remains ... learning is not sustained by information alone.
It is sustained by nourishment.
And sometimes, the smallest feeding is the one that keeps hope alive.
Selah.
(The "Follow The Leader (changED - Volume 2)" Audio and Video Album / Mixtape is also available at TeachersPayTeachers.com)
(The "changED (Volume 1)" Audio and Video Album / Mixtape is also available at TeachersPayTeachers.com)
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I am a “standup storyteller.”
I fuse rap, spoken word (poetry), oration (traditional public speaking), singing, and teaching into messages of hope, healing, and change that I write, direct, and produce to help people who help people.
Everything must change - and stay changED.
Tradition begins and ends with change.
Change begins with me and the renewing of my mind ... then continues through efforts to effect small-group discipleship (equipping others to equip others) with audiences that respect and embrace mentoring, mediation, and problem solving as tools of change.
I am the product of my mentoring relationships, peacemaking (and peacekeeping), and problem-solving ability.
My education began when I finished school.
After school, I enrolled in a lifelong curriculum that includes classes in ministry, entrepreneurship, stewardship, literacy, numeracy, language, self-identity, self-expression, and analysis / synthesis.
My projects execute a ministry that has evolved from wisdom earned through lessons learned.
I want to share this wisdom to build teams of "triple threat" fellows - mentors, mediators, and problem solvers.
We will collaborate in simple, powerful ways that allow us to help people who help people.
I now know that power is work done efficiently (with wise and skillful use of resources, interests, communication, and expertise).
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