Physical touch between sixth graders is not uncommon – they’re all over each other, and mostly in a friendly, playful way. I recently instituted a “one person per chair” rule in my classroom, as a trend towards seat-sharing started taking root. Some of these instances were clearly flirtatious, but more often they were between friends, and much harder to classify. Early middle school is a lot like early elementary developmentally – they’re handsy, affectionate, full of emotions.  

But touch gets complicated in and out of the classroom, and the #metoo movement has brought up countless discussions about the nuances of consent. How do I teach students, particularly boys, about responsible, caring ways to interact physically with others?

Last week I heard a commotion: my 8th grade Teaching Assistant was demanding that a student – let’s call him “Sam” – apologize to a nearby female student, “Elena.”  He had pulled her hair, and my T.A. was reacting loudly and vehemently, while Elena walked away from the situation. Not surprisingly, this all happened right as the bell rang. I talked with my T.A. to learn what they witnessed, and I talked with Sam privately (in the hall during class) the next day. He said they were just playing around, that Elena didn’t mind. “How do you know she didn’t mind?” I asked. His response: “We’re friends.”

I tried, strategically, to word my response in a way that didn’t put him in a defensive position that would shut down the possibility for learning. “Sam, I’ve known you for a few months, and I’ve seen you be a great friend. But even if you mean something playfully, it might feel like a violation of personal space to someone else.” He agreed, promised to talk with Elena, moved on. My T.A. was satisfied that I took it seriously.

But then, a few days later, I noticed Sam tickling a male student at his table. This time I got more to the point: “Sam, did you ask for his consent before touching him?” The other student giggled and said, “It’s ok – we’re friends!” I snapped to my senses and pointed out that tickling doesn’t belong in a classroom anyway. They were both smiling and participating – does that count as consent?

In cases of sexual touch, Washington State law is clear around Standards of Conduct for Students: “…consent must be clear, knowing, and voluntary. Anything less is equivalent to a ‘no’…Consent is active; silence or passivity is not consent.”

The wording leaves no room for nuance, and rightly so: anything short of an explicit “yes” is equivalent to non-consent. As early adolescents explore all kinds of touch, I’m struggling to help shape students that won’t be the next generation of sexual harassers…or worse. There are many opportunities for social development in the art classroom while students collaborate, share experiences from their lives, analyze artwork and consider bias and privilege. Social learning happens when they’re in a bad mood, and trying to share tape or scissors! As they interact and learn about the impact of their behaviors on others, how do I teach them to really listen when others are communicating boundaries? Sometimes boundaries are communicated with a smile, between “friends,” because the other person is so uncomfortable that it is too hard to say “no” with a serious tone. Or the social capital that would be lost with firm “no” keeps a girl silent.

In “Do You Think I’m Pretty: Consent as Community,” Reina Gattuso writes, “We tend to talk about consent ‘as an individual process,’ not asking ‘What kinds of power are operating in this situation?’ but only ‘Did you or did you not say yes?”

That resonates for me as key to my students’ understanding of respectful, consensual, GOOD touch now and in their futures: What kinds of power are operating in this situation? What power do you have in relation to the person you want to touch?

I don’t plan to center these questions as the learning target of a unit or lesson plan. But I will try to incorporate these questions as I help students navigate social relationships in class. The power relationship aspect is connected to our class discussions about cultural appropriation in art, and it’s the reason that a boy can’t pull a girl’s hair without her abundant, enthusiastic “yes.” Even then, he needs to watch for non-verbal cues that she wants him to stop. (And no, hair pulling doesn’t belong in class anyways.)

Even at age 12, there is an imbalance of power between boys and girls, and I won’t have boys assuming “yes” or even hearing “yes” when a girl means “no.” Social norms around consent continue to change. As our understanding grows regarding the vast ways that privilege and power shape daily life between us, I hope our boys get better and better at physical touch that empowers others. And stick to one person per seat in class!

This year I made the transition from teaching at a school with various high-needs populations, to a school with considerably lower Free and Reduced-Lunch numbers. The schools couldn’t feel less alike, and one of the greatest factors in this difference lies in the counseling offices. If we are serious about combating the opportunity gap, we need more counselors where it is needed most. It looks like Superintendent Reykdahl gets this, to some degree – he supported ESHB 2224, which passed, and will provide more funding for school counselors at the middle school level (mainly to comply with High School and Beyond Plan development for students).

I would wager that any teacher anywhere would support increases in school counseling positions (caveat: unless it means we have to give up another vital support for students). The top-priority goal of the 2013-18 strategic plan of the WA State Counseling Association is to “Pass legislation that establishes and funds lower ratios for ALL levels (elementary, middle & high school).”

As Seattle becomes less and less live-able for so many lower-income city residents, the allocation of counseling services amongst schools is especially critical, and needs to be redesigned.

My current middle school has almost 900 students and 3 full-time counselors – one for each house/grade (6th-8th grades). My old elementary school has a highly fluctuating number of students – more on that in a bit – which generally totals around 250-300 students (grades PreK-5th), and a half-time counselor. Looking strictly at enrollment numbers, this seems fair: the more students at a school, the more counselor FTE (percentage of full-time position), a school gets.

But not all students have equal need for a counselor. School counselors serve students in a number of capacities. Historically, they started as vocational advisors. ”The role of school counselors continued to develop in parallel to changes in education and society. As the momentous social issues of the 1960s arose, the field focused increasingly on the developmental, personal, and social issues of students and on cultural sensitivity. In the late 1960s and the 1970s, the work of counselors became more entwined with central school goals for student academic success (Gladding, 2012).”

Doesn’t it make sense to base the number of counselors (and percentage of full-time work), based on the school population’s individual needs, rather than enrollment numbers alone?

This is sort-of already happening at Seattle Public Schools. According to this year’s Weighted Staffing Standards, an elementary school receives a half-time position for EITHER a counselor, a social worker, or a head teacher IF it qualifies as “Focus or Priority (the school is not doing well by various metrics); has Greater than 50% poverty per OSPI; or has a Social/Emotional Behavior program.” Excellent! But don’t make us choose!

At my old school, the half-time counselor tried to the best of their well-qualified ability to meet students’ needs. But the school included all downtown housing shelters, and the school population includes a huge, and growing number of students whose lives are in major turmoil and transition. Students regularly show up at the main office with no records of any evaluations for special ed services required, and no information about their academic and behavioral needs (which are often plentiful, due to the trauma they were/are experiencing). They stay for a month, a quarter, sometimes more. Special funding pays for a Family Support Worker, who does incredible, on-the-ground work to coordinate families with various resources. But we chose the half-time counselor position over the Head Teacher position, which was very much needed, too. KUOW recently profiled the school, and brought up the need for more staff development around trauma-informed instructional practices. But when you have a number of students who didn’t sleep the night before because of noise in the shelter; who are not yet evaluated for special services, who are shutting down or starting conflicts; who don’t yet feel safe and trusting of the classroom…no amount of professional development will be enough. You need more trained professionals in a building to meet needs, particularly counselors.

At my new school, we have monthly house meetings, led by our counselors, to examine the academic, social/emotional, and physical needs of each student in the school. Students of concern are discussed by all of us, and we look for gaps in how we are serving them. Recently, one of my 6th graders shared with me that he hadn’t slept the night before. This happened again, and again. I started checking in with him a little more frequently; he was on my mind more than others. When he told me that he hadn’t slept for the three prior nights, had been walking around, and that his mom didn’t know, my concern grew. Was this enough to warrant a report of potential neglect?

I went to the 6th grade counselor for advice and help. She was on it immediately because she was available – she wasn’t stretched between hundreds of kids with similar concerns. She met with the student the next day, learned a lot more about his life, and determined that his home is stable and loving. We got some additional supports in place for him: a schedule change to include a study-skills class, some regular appointments with the counseling office. His vocational future is inseparable from his current well-being and his on-going academic success. Having counseling services to support him in all of this is invaluable.

I hope that the particular needs of students at a school shapes the way we fund counseling positions; it’s an issue of equity and teachers, alone, can’t meet the social-emotional needs of students.

My art classroom this year is in a giant, sun-lit room surrounded by kitchens along its perimeter. It used to be a home economics room, and we make good use of the storage cabinets and sinks. It also still has ancient potholders and whisks in the depths of some rarely-used drawers! “Home ec” hasn’t been offered as a middle school elective here in many years. Neither has auto shop, or wood shop. Students regularly ask, “What happened to cooking classes?” – I wonder, myself.

The history of schools is long-entwined with industry and capitalism – one purpose of schooling is to prepare young people to be productive workers in society. As labor in the U.S. continues to shift, how are we best preparing students for life after school? Who might be left behind?

I predict that most of my current students will go to colleges and universities – most come from middle- to upper-middle-class families, with many parents in white collar jobs. I’ve taught high-poverty populations for years, as well, and have always taught a significant number of students receiving special ed services. I believe tracking students – moving them into separate educational pathways based on academic performance, can be limiting, at best, for students.

Still, is college for everyone? At a recent College and University Spirit Day, all teachers at my school were expected to talk with their homerooms about their college experiences – the goal was to get students thinking concretely about college visions for themselves. But it didn’t feel honest to me, to talk exclusively about the rewards and joys of my higher education. I shared that I’m still paying off a large amount of student debt, and that I might not get a Masters of Fine Arts again if I had a time machine. A college degree has been a symbol, and sometimes a ticket, for class movement in America. But the rising cost of tuition brings into question, whether a degree offers a worthwhile return on investment. According to Claudio Sanchez with Morning Edition, tuition costs in Washington state have risen 70% in the past few years.

In 2014, a partnership between the U.S. Dept. of Labor and the U.S. Dept. of Education forged the Workplace Innovation and Opportunity Act – a law that “places heightened emphasis” on workforce preparation for out-of-school youth (youth aged 16-24 without a high school diploma). Previously, the focus of programs for out-of-school youth was on gaining a GED and getting higher education credits. But the U.S. Dept. of Ed. Office of Career, Technical, and Adult Education site has not been updated since January 2017 – it is unclear how this program is supported by our current federal administration. 

Seattle Public Schools has Career and Technical Education department that invites students to apply for courses at schools and regional Skill Centers. There are a number of programs offered, led by workers in those fields, including Aerospace, Automotive, Maritime, and Culinary Science. This offers exciting possibilities for students interested in trades, and is one way we could get closer to Washington’s educational attainment goal of 70% of adults (aged 25-44) having a post-secondary credential by 2030 (currently, about 33% of adults have a post-secondary credential). The use of “credential” versus “degree” reflects a growing emphasis in WA on Career and Technical Education (CTE) as an important option for students, amongst other possible paths. The WA-based foundation Partnership for Learning expands on the definition of “credential” as meaning “college, an apprenticeship, or other training that will prepare (students) for career success.” 

These goals feel particularly relevant to me, as a middle-class worker in a city with a rapidly increasing cost of living. I want my students, and all young people in Seattle and WA state, to transition to adulthood with all that they need to find jobs that are meaningful and sustainable, and to live here long-term (if they want). It’s exciting to see that state superintendent Chris Reykdal sees expansion of CTE as a legislative priority, and one piece of the huge, vital imperative to decrease the opportunity gap.

As I design curriculum in the art room around the development of 21st Century Thinking Skills: collaboration, communication, perseverance, reflective thinking, critical thinking, and creative thinking, I am trying to prioritize practices that students will use in any future workplace. As we use our hands to build, carve, sew, sketch, and design, I hope students think widely about their post-secondary options, regardless of what previous generations held as top-priority. Maybe that means college, and maybe it won’t.