Inside NHCS May 6, 2022

Clary French’s classroom at Williston Middle School is a place of affirmation.

In a lesson this week about the Spartans and the Athenians, her sixth graders worked in small groups to weigh the merits of each city-state while getting constant encouragement from their teacher.

Whatever they were doing right, from their hard work to their font choice for a poster they were designing, she propelled them to do more of it.

“That question was actually pretty complicated, because you had to figure out what would the other side argue?” she said to one group. “What would the Athenians say badly about Sparta? Yeah, they’d say, ‘I don’t really want to throw my baby off a cliff…’ and then how do you respond?”

The kids laughed. And then they got to work.

After 18 years teaching every grade and subject in elementary school, Ms. French shifted to middle school two years ago.

“I love their independence, I love their humor, and I love that they get my jokes,” she said. “Our kids are stepping up to whatever challenge I set forth no matter where they are. It’s such a diverse place.”

She tries to make them know, deeply, that whoever they are when they enter her classroom, it’s okay, and wherever they are now, there’s room to grow.

As the bell is about to ring, she says to the class, “I’m so impressed with every single group. Y’all are literally killing it. I can’t wait to display these posters in the hall for everybody to see; they are that good.”

And as they file out, the students who need it get a touchpoint from Ms. French.

“Super good job focusing today,” she says to a boy in a hoodie, who straightens up as she rests a hand on his shoulder. “You are all tuned in. I love you.”

Her classroom isn’t just a space where learning is happening, one student said, but a trusted and safe space for students at a vulnerable age.

“You know how sometimes you don’t really talk to teachers because you think they don’t understand you?” the girl says. “She really understands you and is able to help you through problems.”

Education was written in the stars for her, Ms. French says. She was the child who would teach to her stuffed animals, and every fall she shares with her students a paper she wrote in second grade about wanting to be a teacher.

“I love teaching and I love my kids,” she said. “It’s all for the kids; I just adore them.”

The work she puts into uplifting and connecting with her students, every moment of every class, comes back to her. On a bulletin board behind her desk are handmade thank-you cards from students, and in their sweet, sloppy middle school handwriting it’s spelled out exactly what she means to them.

“Thank you for every laugh, every moment of madness, every moment of happiness, everything you ever taught me,” one reads. “Thank you.”

Kevin Murphy is deep in EOG season at Mary C. Williams Elementary. Fifth graders who feel the heat and humidity and temptation of summer creeping in are needing constant redirection.

They’re understandably squirrely, but they need to keep their eyes on the prize.

His reminders are practical — remember your bookbags, finish your homework, bring your packets back to class — but also more consequential.

Believe in yourself, he reiterates, because I believe in you.

“You’ve put in the work all year and you’re doing extremely well,” he tells them. “Now you just gotta go out and finish off strong and do your best.”

After 20 years of teaching, he navigates a room of rowdy 11-year-olds while bantering and keeping them on track with an ease that is deceiving.

His expectations, his students say, are high.

“He’s pretty strict but he cares about us and he teaches us everything we need to know without letting us get stressed out,” one student said.

“He always pushes you to do better. If you turned in your work and he knows you didn’t really try too hard, he’ll tell you that, but then he’ll say, ‘Listen, I’m going to help you and we can go through it together,’” said another. “It helps me gain confidence in what I’m doing.”

Instilling confidence, Mr. Murphy said, is the north star of his teaching.

“The main thing is making sure that they feel comfortable when they’re here and that they feel prepared,” he said. “I want them to know that they’re different than everybody else, and they need to be confident, proud of themselves, and determined.”

That mission of helping others realize their potential extends beyond his classroom doors. Fifteen years ago Mr. Murphy started the nonprofit Ocean Cure, which helps veterans and people with disabilities experience surfing.

This summer the organization will hold 65 adaptive surf camps serving hundreds of people, all completely free. Most of the volunteers are New Hanover County Schools teachers.

It’s one of the many reasons he’s proud to be part of that cohort, he said.

“Especially with the public eye right now on New Hanover County teachers, you’ve got to realize you’re not going to get a better education than in public school with the amount of training and how hard the teachers work and how much our teachers care about your children,” he said.

“They took a job as a teacher in the public schools to work with kids and see them succeed; it’s as simple as that.”

Middle schoolers at Holly Shelter are magnetized to Debrann Tunnage. In the hallway before class they circle around her, sharing peer drama and asking about assignments and seeking out her measured, no-nonsense advice.

She has a gesture she does in these moments, one hand a rest for her chin, the other wrapped around her currently very-pregnant belly, and a sort of I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life grin.

She had wanted to be a forensic psychiatrist before serving in AmeriCorps after college, and being assigned to teach reading in a Florida public school. The experience led her to grad school for a master’s in education and she’s been teaching social studies at Holly Shelter since.

“A lot of times the kids think history is boring, so it’s always fun to change that mindset,” she said. “There are some hard dates and people that you need to know, but history itself is subjective, and you get to see it the way you see it.”

In a lesson on the Vietnam War this week, she was playing songs by Marvin Gaye and Bob Dylan and Edwin Starr and asking students to listen to and interpret the lyrics.

What was the artist saying about war? she asked. What was their commentary on the social conventions and laws and policies you know from that era?

They were fully engaged, listening earnestly and scribbling down their thoughts.

“Things that are controversial they tend to care about, and they tend to have more opinions about,” she explained.

In teaching history to a diverse group of middle schoolers, she said, representation matters.

It matters that her students see themselves in historic events.

“I like for each of the kids to feel at some point during the year like they learned something about the people they represent,” she said. “When we talk about Expansion I like to go into Native American issues, and I like to talk about Mexican and Hispanic issues so they know that our history was not just black and white.”

And it matters when she thinks about what it means for her to be at the head of the classroom.

“For some of my kids they're like, you’re the first Black teacher I’ve ever had,” she said. “It makes me sad sometimes that it took for them to get to middle school to have that experience, but it makes me happy that at least they’re having the opportunity.”

The way she threads past to present makes it fun to learn, her students said. But maybe more than that, the way she connects with students makes them know she cares about them beyond grades and assignments.

“I can always tell her stuff and I know that she’ll always be there to help me out, and tell me what I need, and what’s not right for me,” one student said. “She’s just a loving person.”