No hiding: This Colorado teacher doesn’t hold back his feelings about how music moves him

Chris Maunu, choir director at Arvada West High School, works with students.

How do teachers captivate their students? Here, in a feature we call How I Teach, we ask great educators how they approach their jobs. You can see other pieces in this series here.

Chris Maunu, choir director at Arvada West High School, was rehearsing a OneRepublic song with his students, when he choked up as the full weight of a lyric hit him. It reminded him of his sister, who has cerebral palsy.

Instead of beating back his emotions, Maunu told his students what he was feeling. It was all part of his commitment to show students his true self — and get the same back from them.

He talked to Chalkbeat about how vulnerability helps him teach, why he decided to switch his college major and what he does to encourage peer mentorship.

Maunu is one of 25 music teachers across the country selected as a semifinalist for the 2018 Music Educator Award presented by the Recording Academy and the GRAMMY Museum.

This interview has been condensed and lightly edited.

Why did you become a teacher?
I actually began college as a business management major. My parents insisted that I join the college choir, so I hesitantly signed up on registration day. The director wanted to hear all students sing individually in her office. She made it clear that this was not an audition, but a way to get to know everyone and their voices. When she heard me sing she was quite pleased and asked if I wanted to be in the select chamber choir. I responded, “Sure, let me just drop my history class.”

Before I knew it, I was involved in three collegiate choirs. I LOVED it! Everyone was so passionate and dedicated. I didn’t have a good music program in high school, so this was my first exposure to a quality program. After feeling pressured to put all of my energy into athletics in high school, I had finally found my home! I instantly wanted to provide that for young people. I wanted to do what I could to make sure my students feel PROUD to be in choir in high school. I changed majors that next semester and never looked back.

What does your classroom look like?
We have curved seated risers with 90 chairs. Front and center of the classroom is a seven-foot Steinway grand piano. The walls are decorated with photo collages of senior classes from the last decade, awards, trophies and inspirational quotes.

Fill in the blank. I couldn’t teach without my _________Why?
My voice. Modeling is such an important part of my instructional practice. The singing voice is such a complicated and intricate instrument that modeling is a crucial strategy in developing students’ voices.

What is one of your favorite lessons to teach?
We do a lesson based around fear. Students write down their greatest fears and I share them (anonymously) with the class. Inevitably, the most common one is the fear of being judged or criticized in front of their peers. When students learn that we all have the same insecurities around performing, they become more comfortable with who they are as singers and more importantly, as people. This is followed by a guided discussion. It’s amazing how much more supportive of one another they become.

How did you come up with the idea?
I have read a lot of materials by author Brene Brown. She has worked for years at breaking down the barriers of talking about uncomfortable things that we all experience but have a tendency to shove away, such as fear, shame, and vulnerability. She has greatly influenced my teaching.

How do you respond when a student doesn’t understand your lesson?
With the fear lesson, there is usually some hesitation, but not a lack of understanding. Once they begin hearing others’ vulnerabilities, they truly become engaged. In average music rehearsals, I try to have issues fixed at the “grassroots” level when possible. I strategically seat stronger students next to students with weaker talent or skills. A mentorship develops between the students in which the stronger student can help the weaker one along. If I need to step in, I’ll go that route as well.

How do you get your class’s attention if students are talking or off task?
We are constantly learning from one another in the choir room. Students get reminded that whatever another group is learning will apply to them as well. For example, if I’m working with the tenors and tell them that a vowel needs to be taller to achieve a specific blend and intonation, chances are it will also apply to the sopranos, altos and basses. Often each vocal section is dependent upon one another to find a pitch or tune a chord.

How do you get to know your students and build relationships with them? What questions do you ask or what actions do you take?
We do full-day retreats with our choirs at the start of the year to build relationships with them and with one another. We also have a student choir leadership team. Members of this team sponsor each choir class and hold social events through the year.

It’s my hope that every student in my classroom feels like they are the most liked and most needed student in the room. I go back to vulnerability. If I am modeling vulnerability — not just being emotional in front of them, but showing them my most authentic self — that bond really seems to take hold.

This is two-fold. First is being authentic in how I behave in general in the classroom. As an introvert, I have always been inspired when I attend professional conferences and see such extroverted leaders in the field share their expertise in how they do things in the classroom. I’ve left so many of those sessions saying to myself, “My teaching personality needs to be more like that!” While I think we all should learn from experts and continue to shape our craft, I think we need to be authentic about who we are. When I started to become more honest with myself, I hit my stride as a teacher.

The second part has to do with what we share with students. We can share personal things about ourselves without being inappropriate. Let’s not be talk about that difficult divorce we are going through, etc. but there are things that can allow students to really connect to us in a vulnerable way. Here is an example. One of my choirs was preparing the song “I Lived” by OneRepublic for our Pops Concert. The song was originally written about a Colorado teen with cystic fibrosis and overcoming life’s difficulties and truly living.

There was a lyric that hit me like a ton of bricks during one class: “I owned every second that this world could give, with every broken bone I swear I lived.” I thought of my own sister with cerebral palsy and began to get emotional. I had a decision to make in that moment — Do I just move on? Or do I take a few minutes and share about myself? I chose to share. We shared, we cried, and we grew closer. When students (especially male students) see an adult figure being truly real, it helps their emotional intelligence grow.

Tell us about a memorable time — good or bad — when contact with a student’s family changed your perspective or approach.
I think it’s when parents share how big of an impact my class has on their child. Parents have shared things like, “You are the only reason my child comes to school” or “My child would have not made it through high school without your class.” Teachers have such a huge impact on their students. Sometimes we get caught in the daily grind and it’s easy to forget that.

What are you reading for enjoyment?
“Rising Strong” by Brene Brown

What’s the best advice you ever received?

Provide authentic affirmation to your students at every opportunity.

How the 2018 national teacher of the year manages a classroom with 12 languages with a white board and a paper clip

PHOTO: Ferguson Films
2018 national teacher of the year Mandy Manning.

Four years ago, Mandy Manning realized she wanted to have an impact outside her classroom, where she spent her days teaching immigrant and refugee students how to navigate their new school and new lives.

To do that, though, she also realized that she would need more than just years of experience. She would need a platform.

This year, she got just that: Manning, who teaches in Spokane, Washington, was named the 2018 national teacher of year.

“People need to know how amazing these immigrant and refugee students are,” she told Chalkbeat.

It’s a message she feels more urgency to spread as the current presidential administration takes a harsh position toward immigrants and asylum-seekers. Manning said she spent several months responding to students asking her when they would have to leave the country.

But the core of Manning’s work is to teach immigrant and refugee students foundational language skills and help ease their transition to the U.S. The students, who come from across the school district, usually spend one semester with her at the Newcomer Center at Joel E. Ferris High School.

“I’m their ambassador. Hopefully I’m a good example of what we are as Americans,” she said.

This interview, part of Chalkbeat’s How I Teach series, has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Was there a moment when you decided to become a teacher?

Teaching really chose me, because I hadn’t intended to become a teacher. I finished my undergraduate degree, which was in filmmaking, and I really wasn’t interested in continuing in that line of work. A friend, who was a paraeducator — someone within a classroom who works one-on-one with students — suggested I become a paraeducator.

Then I taught in the Peace Corps, which really helped expand my worldview. Even after that, I wasn’t convinced I wanted to be a teacher. I moved to Texas and my aunt suggested I apply to teaching positions, even though I wasn’t certified or had a degree in education. It was almost as if teaching was pursuing me and I was just denying it.

How do you get to know your students?

I’m very welcoming to them. I think that’s so essential, because the very first day is where you set your climate and environment in the classroom. For me that means being very upbeat and excited and ensuring that I’m introducing myself to every student as they’re walking in and figuring out their name and where they’re from and what languages they speak.

I used to teach general education — film making, journalism, communications, English. With them I would just have conversations like, ‘You are an individual and I’m an individual and yes I am your teacher and you are my student but I’m still interested in who you are not just as a learner but as a person.’ With the newcomers, it’s a little more difficult because we’re starting with charades, essentially.

So slowly, every day, I learn something new about my kids and that’s my goal. As long as I learn something about one student each day, I’m moving forward.

Tell us about a favorite lesson to teach. Where did the idea come from?

It’s our “Out in the Community” lesson. It has to do with the foundational language we’re teaching — giving and receiving directions and the basic ability to navigate your community. The reason I love it so much is that we actually get to go out and explore the neighborhood of the school and sometimes the downtown area of Spokane — the actual community in which they live and they’re expected to function as community members.

It’s so fun to watch the kids and what things are of interest to them and how they draw their maps. They also make connections back to their home country when they’re talking about the differences between their neighborhoods or schools or communities.

What object would you be helpless without during the school day?

My whiteboard and markers. Personally, I need a paper clip, which is so dumb, but it helps me concentrate. I just play with it when I’m teaching and communicating with kids. But the thing I really need in my classroom all the time is the ability to write things down because it helps with that comprehensible input for my kids.

What’s something happening in the community that affects what goes on inside your class?

Right now, it’s the climate around immigrants and refugees. Spokane is pretty good, pretty neutral. There isn’t a whole lot of negative communication or messaging, but it does happen. It’s happened in our hallways at school where kids have been told to go back to Africa or horrible racist slurs have been called against Arabic kids or kids from African nations. It impacts how welcome and comfortable my students feel.

It also brings older students, who have gone beyond the Newcomer Center back to my classroom more often, because my room represents the first place they were comfortable and safe. They’re often returning to me and the bilingual specialist I work with just for the reassurance that they’re welcome and they’re safe here in our nation. That’s something we now have to navigate every single day.

Tell us about a memorable time — good or bad — when contact with a student’s family changed your perspective or approach.

The first year I started to do home visits — at that time I had families from Burma, Iraq, Afghanistan, and different nations in Africa. These home visits with all these different families showed me so much about individual differences between people of the same culture and between different cultures.

I got to see how they’re living, who they’re living with, the different type of homes — apartments, duplexes, single-family dwellings, or a house — and just how they interacted with each other. It broadened my perspective of family. there are so many different types of families within the students born within the United States, then to see it on a such a large scale with different cultures, it’s helped me to seek value in every single different type of family. And to understand that even though things operate differently in each home, that doesn’t diminish the beauty of that home.

What part of your job is most difficult?

The hardest part is the middle of the year, semester-end. Kids at the Newcomer Center come from all over the school district. Usually after a semester, they then go on to their neighborhood high school. We have several practices in place to help with transition, but that semester break, it’s really hard to say goodbye to the kids.

It’s harder than at the end of the year because at the end of the year, we’re all taking a break. That semester, some of my kids are leaving and I’m not going to see them on a regular basis. And we’ve bonded with one another so much that it’s really hard, and I always end crying for the whole day because I’m going to miss them so much.

What was your biggest misconception that you initially brought to teaching?

I didn’t know what I was doing at all when I had my first classroom. I didn’t even know how to read a teacher’s edition of a textbook. I sort of jumped in with both feet. I guess I assumed I needed to understand how to build a lesson exactly and that would be a hard hurdle for me, but I soon found out it doesn’t matter how beautifully you structure your lesson plan, because teaching is really about monitoring and adjusting for whatever the needs are of the kids at the time. You might have the most beautiful lesson but chances are it will shift and change in the first 10 minutes.

What’s the best advice you’ve received about teaching?  

Focus on your kids and everything else will fall into place.

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‘What if this was my son?’ How Newark’s Teacher of the Year pushes autistic students to succeed

PHOTO: Patrick Wall
Lourdes Reyes, Newark's 2018 Teacher of the Year.

A normal Monday in Lourdes Reyes’ classroom at the First Avenue School begins with a pleasant routine.

Her six students, a mix of first and second-graders with autism, eat breakfast quietly at their desks then brush their teeth in the restroom. Then they return to class, as they did one Monday morning this month, to recite the days and months and share highlights from the weekend — a trip to the zoo, playtime in the park, an evening bike ride.

“Alright,” Reyes said in a soothing tone as she moved the lesson along. “Everybody had a good weekend.”

But on Monday, May 7, things were far from normal.

That was when the district’s interim superintendent arrived unannounced in her classroom bearing balloons and a bouquet, with television cameras in tow, to inform her that she was Newark’s 2018 Teacher of the Year. Reyes tearfully accepted the award as her daughter, a teacher at Elliott Street School, looked on. Then she walked into the hallway, where dozens of students cheered and chanted her name.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Reyes told Chalkbeat during a recent interview.

In college, Reyes had studied to become a social worker. But after her son, Ishmail, was born with autism, she wanted to learn more about his condition. Before long, she had earned a master’s degree in special education and become a teacher of students with autism — a job she’s held for 21 years.

After two decades, she has yet to slow down. Every day after class she begins her second job as an early-intervention specialist, visiting families’ homes to work with young children suspected of having disabilities. After finishing around 8:30 p.m., she takes a late-night walk with her youngest son — a routine that, along with a healthy new diet, helped her lose 65 pounds over the past year.

Reyes stays just as busy at school. In addition to academic lessons, she teaches her students life skills like tying their shoes and cooking — sometimes on a portable stove, which Reyes used one day this year to cook green eggs and ham. In April, which is National Autism Awareness Month, she helped raise $2,300 for the school’s autism program and organized a performance where her students sang Disney songs. Reyes performed alongside wearing the red hat and spotted pants of Jessie the Yodeling Cowgirl from “Toy Story.”

Principal Jose Fuentes, who was part of the 10-person leadership team at First Avenue that nominated Reyes for her award, called her “one of the pillars of the school.” She extends herself far beyond her own classroom, showing colleagues and parents how to challenge and support students with autism, Fuentes said.

“She’s giving new light to the possibilities of what it means to be an educator,” he said. “That’s Reyes.”

The following interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

How did you get into teaching?

When my second son was born, Ishmail, he was born with autism.

I was first of all shocked that I had an autistic son. It was very difficult and devastating for all of us. My husband and I had to go for counseling. It was very hard. But then we overcame it. I decided I’m going to take something negative and make something positive out of it.

So I went to graduate school and I took classes on special ed. I loved it and so I took another class. One class led to another.

Then I started volunteering at my son’s school. I was there all the time. In the evenings my husband would get home, he’d watch the kids, I’d go and take my class.

Next thing you know, in two years I completed a master’s in special ed.

How has being the parent of a child with autism shaped the way you teach?

Everything I still do today is focused on, “What if this was my son?”

I think that’s what makes me a little different. Like if I was doing this for him, how would I teach it?

What have you learned about what it takes to be an effective teacher of students with autism?

You can’t feel sorry for a child. Just because they have a disability does not mean that they can’t do something. You have to put that aside and show them in a way that tough love to get them to master the skills. Which is hard for some of the parents to do.

We have to do a lot of what the parents don’t do. For instance, tooth brushing, that’s a life skill. At home they say, “He doesn’t want to brush his teeth.” But they do it here every morning.

It sounds like a big part of your job is working with parents.

I give them my cell number. They call me at all times.

Sometimes [a student’s mother] will say, “It’s a rough morning. He didn’t want to change. I’m sending you the uniform in the book bag.” Then when he comes in, we transition him. When we do toothbrushing we say, “You need to change now.”

Then when it’s 2:45, “You don’t want to wear it? OK, let’s go change you. Put on your jeans, go on the bus.” Happy trooper.

How are you able to make progress with students who come in without many academic skills?

It’s ongoing, and it’s repetitive. Teaching the skills. Pulling them out, teaching them [through] individualized instruction.

And it happens also with the assistance of the aides. I have four great aides. None of this could happen without them.

Ms. [Rasheedah] Jacobs, guess how many years she’s been with me. Fourteen. When I came here and interviewed, I said, “I’ll take the job under the condition that Ms. Jacobs could come with me.” She really, really is a great teacher. I call her a teacher, not even an aide. She’s my right hand.

Can you think of a student whom you had a lot of success with?

Last year, I had one of my highest functioning students. She has Asperger’s. What a thrill to have that little girl. Oh my gosh.

Every week the principal gives the word of the week. She memorized and knew every single word from September to June. And recited it in an assembly, with a sentence for each word. She’s unbelievable!

We had a student [at Quitman Street Community School] who had a band on his esophagus, and he had a feeding tube in kindergarten. We couldn’t believe it — he was in diapers.

I was like, “If we can get this little boy to be toilet trained, that will be a success.” Do you know we mastered that? We did it.

How do you know if you’ve been successful by the end of the year?

Seeing [a student] who didn’t know the letters of the alphabet, seeing him writing sentences, filling in blanks, reciting words.

Knowing [a different student] can tie his shoes. Knowing he can brush his teeth.

Knowing that parents are happy with the progress of their students. Them sharing with me the change in their child once they started coming into my classroom. Parents telling me, “Oh, that’s not the same kid who was in the school last year. That’s a different child.”

What’s your advice to teachers who are just starting out?

Have a lot of patience. Be real devoted.

And do not look at a student with autism as a person who is weak. Have high expectations that they are capable of doing everything and anything with the right accommodations.

It can be done, but it takes someone with dedication, sensitivity, and also someone who does not feel sorry for a child. Anything is possible. There are no limits.