Rafe Esquith - Lighting their fires: raising extraordinary kids in a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world
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- Book:Lighting their fires: raising extraordinary kids in a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world
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Lighting their fires: raising extraordinary kids in a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world: summary, description and annotation
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One of Americas most celebrated educators teaches parents how to create extraordinary children-in the classroom and beyondIn his bestselling book, Teach Like Your Hairs on Fire, readers were introduced to Rafe Esquith and his extraordinary students in Hobart Elementary Schools Room 56. Using his amazing and inspiring classroom techniques, Esquith has helped thousands of children learn to maximize their potential. In Lighting Their Fires, Esquith shows that children arent born extraordinary; they become that way as a result of parents and teachers who instill values that serve them not just in school, but for the rest of their lives. Framed by a class trip to a major league baseball game, Lighting Their Fires moves inning by inning through concepts that help children build character and develop enriching lives. Whether he is highlighting the importance of time management or offering a step-by-step discussion of how children can become good decision makers, Esquith shows how parents can equip their kids with all the tools they need to find success and have fun in the process. Using examples from classic films and great books, he stresses the value of sacrifice, the importance of staying true to oneself, and the danger that television can pose to growing young minds. Lighting Their Fires is that rarest of education books: one that explains not just how to make our children great students, but how to make them thoughtful and honorable people.
Rafe Esquith: author's other books
Who wrote Lighting their fires: raising extraordinary kids in a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world? Find out the surname, the name of the author of the book and a list of all author's works by series.
Rafe Esquith
Nancy Armstrong Melser
Rafe Esquith
Deborah Stipek
Meena Srinivasan
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Table of Contents
ALSO BY RAFE ESQUITH
There Are No Shortcuts
Teach Like Your Hairs on Fire:
The Methods and Madness of Room 56
The Methods and Madness of Room 56
for all who work to make a difference
and for Barbara
and for Barbara
PREGAME SHOW
Out of the Ordinary
It was five P.M. on a Friday afternoon in May at Hobart Elementary School in Los Angeles, and most of the dedicated teachers and administrators had long since left the campus. I wished I could have escaped with them. I was exceedingly tired. It had been a particularly long week. In fact, it had been a long year.
Yet, this Friday I was able to push myself even though a long night lay ahead of me. A few months before, I had spoken to some outstanding teachers at a school in Los Angeles. One of them was friends with the general manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball team. When she learned of my love of baseball, she called him to arrange tickets. He graciously offered my class six tickets for several games during the year. I would be able to take five kids per game, and after picking names out of a hat, a schedule was made to ensure that eventually all the kids in the class would get to attend a contest. So on this Friday night, five students were coming with me to attend their first baseball game. It would be a fun night, but also a late one.
On Saturday mornings I normally work with my former students, a group of enthusiastic teenagers who return to prepare for college admissions tests and read the plays of William Shakespeare. Probably more tired than I, these hard-working scholars sacrifice most of their Saturday mornings to come back to Room 56 once more. Many of them yearn for a more relevant education than they are receiving at the schools they currently attend. But this was the Friday before Memorial Day weekend, so I had given them (and myself) a Saturday off. I was truly exhausted, but I consoled myself knowing that after the ball game ended I could go home and get a good nights sleep.
Outside my classroom, I could see the crooked parking lot gates struggling to remain open. This sixteen-foot-high fence has two pieces that swing shut and can be bolted with a large padlock and chain. Its unfortunate that we even need this contraption, but the school is in a rough neighborhood, and keeping the kids and their resources safe is a big priority. Unfortunately, it is plain to see that the barricade is in real need of repair. Over the years it has been damaged by cars, climbers, and rain, so that the two swinging sections do not remain apart when they are supposed to and are difficult to close when its time to lock up the school. Like the facilities they guard, the gates do the best they can under difficult circumstances.
Inside, though, the environment can seem like a different world. On this Friday, as on all Friday afternoons, a group of amazing fourth and fifth graders had stayed late with me in Room 56. They were part of the Hobart Shakespeareans group, and had been working on an unabridged production of William Shakespeares As You Like It. The previous summer, these kids had volunteered to come to school through July and August to dissect the plays intricate language, learn accompanying parts on musical instruments, and unite for a cause that would bring hope to themselves and those around them. After eleven months of rehearsals, the kids were ready to perform the production for the public. They knew their show was brilliant. Just a few months earlier the Royal Shakespeare Company had spent the day with them and wept and cheered through an unforgettable performance.
School officially ended that Friday at 2:19 P.M., but these children had volunteered to stay daily until 5:00. As they said their good-byes, threw on their backpacks, and headed out the door, six of them stayed behind. Five were going with me to the Dodgers game, and they were understandably excited. But the sixth, Sammy, was not, and I quickly grew concerned.
When I first met Sammy, he was not popular with his teachers or classmates, and it was easy to see why. He couldnt sit still in class. He often spoke out of turn and rarely interrupted with a point that was even remotely relevant to the topic of conversation.
In addition, he was filthy. He was unwashed and his clothes were even worse. It wasnt that his personal habits were bad; he simply didnt have any. On the playground, he would take off his shirt, throw it on the dirty blacktop, and work up a terrific sweat running. At Hobart, kids know never to leave anything on the ground, because any unattended backpack or article of clothing disappears within seconds of being left alone. But no one ever touched Sams clothes. No one even wanted to go near them. After his activities were finished, Sam would pick up his shirt, use it to wipe the sweat off his face, and then put it back on. It wasnt a pretty sight.
Sam didnt have friends among his peers or even supporters on the staff, and yet he and I slowly developed a friendship. Always on the outside looking in, Sam had spent his first nine years following the path of least resistance. Never a joiner of anything, he had eventually signed on to many of the extra activities I offered. He was the final kid in the class to begin staying late for Shakespeare. Over early-morning math lessons, lunchtime music sessions, and playing lots of catch, Sam had made tremendous progress. He discovered that he loved United States history, and once he found his great interest, a scholar was born. He devoured every book he could find on the subject, with a particular focus on the politics of war. His patriotic passion overflowed into his life. Sammy became more organized in his thinking. He started keeping himself clean. Now, after eleven months in the class, Sam was one of the gang. He had a lot of genuine friends, and he never felt better.
But on this Friday night, he was depressed. He loved baseball, and I had to leave him behind from the game he desperately wanted to attend. He knew he would go to a game later that summer, but he was sad that he couldnt go that night. Spending an evening at Dodger Stadium obviously appealed to him more than being at home.
Sam told me his mother would be coming to get him around five-thirty and asked if he could remain in the room after I left. I wanted to say yes but I had been reprimanded several times by my bosses for allowing kids to stay late and study in Room 56 after I had gone home. I understood their concerns. Although the administrators trusted my students to do the right thing, they were worried about liability problems, and told me to discontinue the practice. As a classroom teacher with enough battles on my hands, I was more than happy to relent on this point and save my strength for more important issues. Sam promised me his mom was coming on the bus, and he sat on a playground bench near our classroom while he waited. The sun was shining, and although the ubiquitous gangsters had already taken over the basketball courts, there would be daylight for at least another two hours. I was confident that Sammy, the budding historian, would be okay.
Even on Friday at five P.M., challenges like this face teachers who put in the extra mile. With Sam squared away, I could turn my attention back to the ball game in our future.
A few minutes later, a quintet of fifth graders piled into my van, dubbed the Oprahmobile by my former students. Oprah was incredibly kind to help out my class several years ago and we will be forever grateful for her generosity. The children were simply giddy. They were going to their first game and were well prepared. They had played baseball daily on the school playground, and I taught them to score games in October when we watched the World Series on television. The Ken Burns baseball documentary was required viewing during their spring vacation evenings. Now, after a years preparation, they were going to watch professionals play the sport they had grown to love. In addition, the Dodgers had kindly invited the children to visit their offices before the game to learn about the business of baseball. As an added treat, they were to be taken onto the field to watch batting practice before taking their seats for the game.
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