One of my favorite things about teaching is how the most meaningful conversations with students can emerge, usually in the most random ways. Today in Second Grade, we were reading a passage about hermit crabs and practicing how to find text evidence to answer questions. One student had written “cause” instead of because, and I had to explain why that isn’t an acceptable way to write the answer to a “why” question. I explained that when we’re just hanging out with friends or writing a quick note to someone, being more casual with language is okay, but when we are doing schoolwork, we want to be precise and formal. It was a very productive discussion, and they all agreed that it was important to use good language in those kinds of situations. Without prompting, they each came up with examples of when being precise with our language would be important – like writing a letter to the president, or writing a complaint to a company – because if our words are too casual, we won’t be taken seriously.

The conversation as a whole reminded me about code-switching, which I then proceeded to explain to my second graders. Code-switching is the process of modifying one’s language or approach to communication depending on one’s present circumstances. For example, it often takes people who don’t know me well by surprise, but for a teacher, I happen to curse quite a lot. I would never swear in front of my students (at least not the younger ones…), and wouldn’t drop F-bombs to my boss, but among friends, I can code-switch to more relaxed language.

Anyway, today, to the kids, I explained that just like computers communicate using code in order to know what to do, our brains and bodies know how to behave in different situations. We know how we are supposed to act in class, which is rather different than how we act at recess time on the playground, which is different than how we act at soccer practice, which is different than how we act at home, or at the doctor’s office, or in the grocery store. Almost automatically, we code-switch to settle into the expectations dictated by whatever particular circumstances we find ourselves in. However, sometimes it is challenging to code-switch as quickly as we’re supposed to – like when students come into class after recess and are still a little wound up from running around and playing, and need a few minutes to settle down and adjust.

I have to give credit where it’s due – my second graders completely understood the concept and were very engaged in this conversation. I get to spend five days a week with some really amazing young people (plus Sundays with some other amazing slightly older young people, and Tuesday evenings with the oldest amazing young people)!

In reflecting on this discussion of code-switching today, I’ve realized that the most important piece of the picture was not the explanation of what code-switching is, but that consideration of how difficult code-switching can be in the first place. Lately, I’ve been having a hard time with keeping my personal trauma and pain separated from my day-to-day; the scars of self-doubt that were seared into my subconscious have been extremely inflamed. I’ve felt utterly unsure of myself. Now, it’s taken me a little while, but what I’ve finally come to understand this week is that while some of my circumstances might be legitimately triggering, overall, what’s happening really is that I am perceiving things to be a certain way because that’s what I’ve come to expect, not because that’s actually what the situation is. I haven’t been able to fully code-switch yet.

Like with all things, it is a work in progress. I am a work in progress. While this perspective about code-switching doesn’t change anything about what’s going on outside of my head, it does change how I can view it, and then I can work on feeling better on the inside. I’m glad about that, because at the end of the day, the code on the inside is what matters most to me.

Besides, with the code on the inside, I can swear as much as I want.