It is not uncommon to hear teachers complain about their students being afraid to "take risks." This might mean they are afraid to participate in class discussions or turn in a less-than-perfect essay.
Many of us believe that our system has inadvertently taught students to be risk-adverse by putting so much emphasis on test scores. After years of being told there is one right answer--A, B, C, or D--and that their future depends upon that answer, why would they want to take risks?
The authors of
What Connected Educators Do Differently argue that modeling (in this case, modeling risk-taking) is the key to change: "By modeling the way, teachers and leaders encourage those they teach and lead to behave according to shared values so that they can achieve a shared vision for excellence" (Whitaker, Zoul & Casas, 2015, p. 98). If I want students to be risk-takers, I must take risks myself.
So how can I, as a teacher-librarian, model risk-taking?
In some ways, I feel that this entire year is about taking risks. I will be a first-year teacher-librarian, working in a district that is new to me. I will be asking the faculty to accept me as a competent, knowledgeable resource who can not only serve students, but also teachers. I will be reorganizing the library after a major reduction of the nonfiction collection, trying to make the space more functional, modern, and inviting.
But students won't necessarily notice any of that.
What they will see is me advocating for individual students, because it is my job to "guarantee that
every student has the right to read and
receive (or have access to) information
and educational opportunities" (
Hunsinger, 2015). This includes our students who are learning English, who have emotional issues, or who need assisstive technology to help them learn.
They will see me opening up the library after school for the first time, creating a safe and helpful space for students to meet to do homework.
They will see me attempting parent outreach, something that is new and scary to me. My principal suggested I start a parent-student book club, so I am jumping in and giving it a try!
They will see me following the "95/5 rule, which means [I will] not make decisions based on the fear of what 5% of the population will do (which usually means challenging authority or school policies) but on the knowledge of what is best for the other 95% who rarely, if ever, break school rules" (Whitaker, et al., 2015, p. 101). That means I need to take a hard look at some library policies. Should we allow food and drink? What about cell phones? Can they visit during lunch without a pass?
What will 95% of the students do if I allow these things?
They will see me embracing new technologies, fumbling my way through learning how to use them. For example, I want to put a green screen in our library for student video projects. While I know how to paint a wall green, I have no idea how to use green screen software! But I believe I can figure it out, one way or another.
Mostly, they will see me being my geeky self, and hopefully that will inspire them to let their own geek out. I get excited about
Hamilton, I make bad jokes, I tell embarrassing stories about my own adolescence. I admit when I don't know how to do something, and ask my students if they can help. I love talking about my world travels and asking my students where they have been and where they want to go. I talk about my favorite books with passion, and tell them that reading opens you up to the possibilities of life, making you think about places and people and professions you never knew existed.
This is what I want my students to learn, above all else: to be successful, it is crucial to try new things. My parent book club might be a total flop, but if I never try it then I'll never know. As Mark Zuckerberg said, "the biggest risk is not taking any risk" (
Rao, 2011).