Dan’s Professional Fingerprint

Teacher as Crazy Uncle 

I don’t have a crazy uncle.  But I think it’s fair to say that a crazy uncle would have enriched my life.  You know, the one who would get drunk on Passover and sing at the top of his lungs.  Now, this crazy uncle is not merely a clown or spectacle; he’s not a show put on for the family’s amusement.  This is a specific crazy uncle prototype. This crazy uncle, by virtue of his craziness, empowers everyone else in the family to find and embrace their own crazy.  “Here comes crazy uncle [Insert name here]!!!!!!” everyone would shout upon his entrance into family events, expecting a fun break everyday seriousess.  By the end of that Passover dinner, EVERYONE…even reticent and shy Mable…would be partaking in an overly loud, off-key, and entirely boisterous version of “let my people go”…and they’d all be loving it.  

I want to argue that every charter school needs a crazy uncle.  Sure, a focus on “accountability” and “high-stakes testing” may be a necessary evil in today’s sociopolitical context.  But in a world where daily recess is sacrificed to make room for 90 minute blocks of core content areas, someone needs to remind kids that they are still, at the end of the day, kids…with all of the goofiness and silliness that this entails.  In fact, my colleagues also need to remember that they still have a little kid inside of them too, yearning to come out and play.  

How do I accomplish this role of crazy uncle?  Well, I wear a lightbulb hat during my think-alouds.  I randomly break out into crazy accents. I make goofy faces at kids and expect them to mirror me back.  I go into the cafeteria with snack-sized bags of takis and throw them into a crowd of outstretched hands.  I arm wrestle with kids. Sometimes, I might even randomly growl like a bear…in the middle of a lesson…for no apparent reason at all.  Recently, I’ve developed a catch-phrase that I’ve shared with students: “I don’t care. I do what I want. I’m señor Z.”  

Just as the crazy uncle I depicted above isn’t merely a spectacle, my goal in all of this is not just to entertain my students, although it’s certainly an important part of what I do.  Ultimately, I want my students to embody my catch-phrase. Sure, it’s a bit tongue and cheek, and I don’t really want my students to not care and do they want.  But I do want my students to be unapologetically themselves — and to know that at least one teacher in the building will, when it’s appropriate (and unfortunately, sometimes when it’s not…he’s still working on that part) come out and play.