Metal-head educators want their students to learn how to change the world

When the news broke last year that heavy metal band, Judas Priest, was coming to town for an April concert I took charge and bought reserved seats up front. When I saw them first in 1984, metal bands didn't even sell reserved seats, we had to fight for them. That was part of the fun. I don't listen to metal much anymore, but I loudly have for the last month in prep for Sunday night's show. I've been head bangin' in the gym, making other old people nervous, and sporadically yelling out anthems from my youth that just sound wrong coming from the mouth of someone my age. Last week, the school year ended for me and my students. My classes are a lot of work, so there's plenty to celebrate when we're through. But I can feel myself missing them even before they've left campus for the summer. I'll recover when "my" kids come back for the fall, and when Indiana University gives me a hundred more. I know I'll love the newbies, before we've even met. My favorite high school teacher was Kreg Battles. He taught chemistry, a subject that has occasionally helped me on Jeopardy, and no place else. But I wasn't really taking chemistry. I was taking Mr. Battles' class, and he just happened to teach chemistry. He was a metal head, like my crowd was, and that made him one of us. In 2010, he and I finally got to go to a concert together. That concert? Judas Priest. I asked him that night how he taught that awful subject all those years. Didn't it get old? He laughed and said, "the students are new every year." Now as a new teacher myself, I can attest that the newness is not some little thing. It's filled with wonder, optimism and excitement. And it's contagious.   Connect with Michael Leppert Visit michaelleppert.com to read the full post and links to any resources or articles mentioned. Twitter @michaelleppert  Facebook at Michael Leppert