The Unspoken Curriculum

​The first bell always feels a little too loud in the morning. Students drift through the doors, voices rising and falling as the day wakes up around them. In the middle of the chatter, there are small moments that say more than words ever could. A student holds the door for someone without being asked. Another cuts between two people who are talking and keeps walking. It’s in those seconds that the quiet lessons live, the ones that tell us what kind of community we are building.
Throughout my years, I have developed my own threshold when it comes to disrespectful behavior that I do not tolerate. Whether it is referring to a teacher by their first name, belching without saying excuse me, walking between people who are talking, wearing a hat inside a building, or talking when someone else already is, I have certain expectations that most students understand and respect. However, we live in a changing world where gone are the days of old when common courtesy was common.
Many years ago, I was taught by a very dear friend and mentor that the job of educators isn’t just to teach students reading, writing, and math, but also to teach them to be fully functional, contributing members of society that people don’t want to hurt. This latter lesson starts when we, the educators, mirror the respect we want our students to have. From the outside, it may look like we are teaching one curriculum, when in fact we are teaching two: the official one with objectives and rubrics, and the unspoken one that teaches how to treat others.
When I first began my journey in education, I had some of the best examples when it came to creating a culture of respect. They took up this hidden curriculum gladly and were always willing to help guide not just students but peers through the dos and don’ts of creating a respectful, responsible, and safe environment. It wasn’t by saying, “No, you shouldn’t do that.” It was by living as an example, even when they felt overwhelmed or burnt out. I got to witness for years the effect of simply mirroring the behavior they wanted to see in their students. Without having to fight over and over again on the same battlegrounds of respect, their students got to see the normalization of being kind and thoughtful and the effect it had on those around them.
Like anything, there is another side to that coin. I have watched the effect of normalizing disrespect, the downward spiral of tearing down those around you because it is “fun” or it makes you feel “superior” or simply because you didn’t want to stop and think about someone else’s feelings. I’ve seen how this mindset erodes workplaces and communities alike, leaving behind distrust and exhaustion where collaboration once lived.
I understand the impulse because there was a period of time when being less than respectful was my knee-jerk reaction to some of my coworkers, family, and friends. It wasn’t until I consciously watched students mirror not just my behavior but the behavior of the adults around them that I had to take a step back. While it may not always be the popular thing, raising my expectations for not just students and coworkers, but for myself, doesn’t make it a bad thing. So this year, before I point fingers, I’m trying to get back to the Miss K of five years ago. The Miss K who tried to mirror the behavior that once was the standard, at least in my happy little corner of the world. Because respect still matters. Because students are always watching. And because even in the smallest places, dignity can begin again.