Is Texting A Teacher Over The Line?

On Sunday of Columbus Day weekend I was sitting on my couch, watching the Patriots game, when I saw an email hit my phone from my school email account. One of my students has a question about the geography test that coming Friday.

Like me, this student has tomorrow off. The test is five days away. Nevertheless, he’s thinking about his studies. I’m beside myself with joy.

I send him an immediate response.

Now, keep everything the same except, instead of an email, imagine that my fifth-grader sends me a text.

Now what do you think?

Many teachers and non-educators would find texting decidedly less heartwarming. The idea that my student would have my phone number and would text me on the weekend would seem inappropriate for many, if not most.

But your opinion probably depends on how old you are and how you use texting and social media. As a teacher, these have become challenging issues to navigate.

When I was in fifth grade, the idea of contacting Mrs. Allen on the weekend would’ve been absurd. The boundaries between student and teacher were implacable. Contacting a teacher would have required a phone number and a land line.

Discovering a herd of unicorns in my backyard would’ve been more probable.

If you grew up in a time when teachers existed only during school hours and phone numbers were prized commodities, you may still think of your phone as private. The thought of a student texting a teacher may seem as absurd and inappropriate as me calling Mrs. Allen’s house.

But my student’s message arrived on my phone via an email account. I received an alert on my phone indicating its arrival.

How different is this from a text message?

You may say that text messages are more intrusive and require a more immediate response.

Text messages are only more immediate and intrusive if that is how you perceive them.

The only discernible difference is that my school district can monitor my email communication. Other than administrative oversight, there is no real difference.

As this generation of young people, who offer phone numbers and email addresses like their names, begins taking its place at the front of classrooms, these artificial barriers to communication will begin to fall. Twenty years ago, the notion of a student emailing a teacher on the weekend seemed outlandish. Now it is commonplace. Twenty years from now, I suspect that texting will be just as common.

Social media norms will change as well. Many school systems forbid teachers from accepting friend requests from students on Facebook. But these policies will be modified as social networks are viewed as more of a utility and the word “friend,” as it functions on Facebook, is understood for what it really means: a connection.

Do I want to be friends with my fifth-grade students on Facebook?

No.

But what about the friend request from the former student turned high school junior who baby-sits for my children or needs a college recommendation or wants to tell me about a recent accomplishment? At the moment, I reject these requests. District policy. But it seems a little silly.

This, too, will change, as social media immigrants, who existed before the creation of these platforms, are replaced by the social media natives who were born into the connected world. It is already difficult, if not impossible, to prevent students from following teachers on Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, YouTube and the like. Most social media networks allow for passive followers. Teachers need not accept or reject student requests. Students just appear.

Facebook will likely become more open when the people whose births were first announced on Facebook become old enough to legislate the use of Facebook for teachers and students.

I’m not sure if this will be a better world, but here is what I know:

I have a student on a Sunday afternoon who wanted to study for a geography test. He was able to reach his teacher and receive the information that he needed almost instantly. On Friday, that student received an A on his geography test.

That doesn’t sound so bad to me.

Matthew Dicks teaches at Wolcott Elementary School in West Hartford.