“My concern about teaching ELA is there is only 90 minutes in an elementary school day, and there is never time for all the components.  Admin doesn’t seem to care about this or do anything about it. I love guided reading but there’s also whole group,  read aloud, independent reading, phonics, grammar. This has always been a quandary for me. What would you focus on most?“

Anonymous, Grade 2, South Carolina

Kids.

In the clutter and cluster that is content, find and focus on kids. All the things you listed are important–thus, the quandary.  At the middle and high-school levels, we too struggle with all that we must teach in a hurried and harried existence, where (in my experience) writing gets the short-straw draw, for it is the hardest to teach, and it takes the longest to learn. In short, at all levels and in all classrooms, there’s too much content and too little time. And if we linger too long on this reality, we quickly and sometimes deeply spiral into a state of anxiety and apathy. “It’s too hard, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

We can’t live here. It’s not good for us. And it’s not good for our kids. 

So, what do we do?

Trust our instincts, and do the most and best we can with providing meaningful literacy experiences for kids that nurture, not kill, a love for learning literacy (in the very short time we have).

Too simple? Maybe. 

Maybe it has to be.

~sy

“How do I teach English standards in a mastery-based way when the standards are cyclical and interwoven with each other? I’ve only seen resources for more linear subjects like math and science.“

Anonymous, ESL Teacher, Arizona

I am not sure we can. More, I am not sure we should.

Certainly not in ELA. And, probably, not in any other subject, either.

Mastery is a myth.

I believe we have discovered this in ELA. As you accurately point out, our standards are indeed cyclical and interwoven (necessarily, I believe, for learning). Ours is not a learn-it-and-leave-it subject. Ours is a learn-it, live-it, learn-it-again (and again) subject. Learning is a circle, a cyclical experience of growth in a (at most and best) pursuit of a mystical, mythical moment of mastery–which never happens (for anyone, ever). And to believe otherwise, to believe mastery is an arrival, a check off a list, is being disingenuous. A true master would never–I believe–suggest they have mastered anything. They are only ever moving towards (pursuing) greater growth.

And yet, questions like yours linger and cause doubt in our work, and we find ourselves wondering about the “how” of mastery-based approaches and why they don’t really seem to work in ELA.

They don’t.

As such, I’ve come to embrace seasons of our growth cycle.

~sy

“Have you had an opportunity to mentor a college student as their cooperating teacher during? If so, how did the college feel about your assessment process? If not, what conversations do you anticipate with those in positions of leadership at the college level?”

Ben Gehring, 9-12 Science Teacher, Nebraska

Another good question, Ben. Thank you.

Yes, I have had three student teachers since I started Project 180 in the fall of 2016.. 

Frankly, I didn’t care how the college felt about my assessment process. I only cared about my mentees, insofar that they understood what they’d be getting themselves into with my progressive (some say, radical) practices, particularly with grading. As with anything, fit matters much, and so, during our initial interview (to find if we fit), I was fully transparent about my ways, which also included the assurances of my support during the experience. And, for all three, I (we) found a fit, and we all had great learning experiences along the way. 

That said, and to address your last question, in my experience–so far–the college “leadership” has been keen to progressive ideas and practice. They seem to want their kids to have exposure and experience with things that are forward moving. 

And if they don’t want that, then we don’t fit. And I am fine with that. I don’t need them. They need me.

We’re the experts. 

~sy

“What was the hardest change for you to make regarding your philosophy of education (or grading)?”

-Ben Gehring, 9-12 Science Teacher, Nebraska

Not changing sooner.

I, as I suspect many do, had long held back on what I now call daring different and braving better. 

For twenty years, I collected questions and doubts about my practice–really about education, and though questions did lead to some answers and doubts to some certainties, they never led me far enough away to fully break from tradition’s trap. Mostly–and I’m loath to admit this now–I didn’t break away because I didn’t think I could or should, but as we now know, I would. I did. And now, I wonder why I waited so long. 

Why did I wait so long? I think I thought I was alone. And I was. We all were to varying degrees, particularly pre-Twitter and other social media. 

Teachers–despite all the efforts to create a collective with PLC’s, etc–lead lonely island lives. As such, we ask in isolation; we doubt in the dark. And both keep us in place.

But things have changed. We are not in isolation. We are not in the dark. We are not alone.

So, let’s change. Today.

~sy

“How much of a negative impact do you foresee AI having in the classroom in the years to come?”

-Stacy Henderson, ESOL Teacher, Georgia

Hi, Stacy. Thank you for asking this timely, important question. I think it’s on many a mind as we learn about and think about how this “new” technology will impact the classroom.

For some, it creates worry. It threatens to undermine what we do and how we do it. Really, more aptly, what we have done and how we have done it–for years. 

For others, it creates wonder. It promises to upheave what we do and how we do it. And as aptly, what we have done and how we have done it–for years.

And, ultimately, whether worry or wonder, it will make us face the why in our work.

Why are we doing what we’re doing? And, then, we have to examine (reexamine) what and how.

If AI can do it, should we be asking kids to do it? How can we leverage this “new” to create new (better) experiences for our kids?

The charge (positive or negative) of AI’s impact rests in the heads of the adults.

It will be as we see. 

I see it as positive. 

~sy

Sorry, all. No Daily 180! today. Life had other plans for me this morning. Be back Monday.

~sy

“Many state legislatures are voting and passing education bills without much input from educators. How do we get state legislatures to listen and not just ignore the voices of teachers affected by these laws?”

-Trevor McGarrah, Computer Science Teacher, Arkansas

A question for the ages. A question which transported me to another age as Dylan’s words echoed. 

Come senators, congressmen

Please heed the call

Don’t stand in the doorway

Don’t block up the hall

-Bob Dylan, The Times They Are A-Changin’

 And though it was a different call in a different age, the request resonates: Come. 

Into our schools, into our rooms. Come. Sit. Stay. Learn.

For a week. Every year. 

I have long thought that legislators need to job shadow educators. I am not talking about press opportunities. I am talking about pack a lunch box (Well, no, bring your lunch money. You’re eating school lunch) and spend a week at a public school with high free-and-reduced lunch rates. Look kids and teachers in the eyes. Don’t “stand in the doorway” for a moment. Don’t “block up the hall” with a touring delegation for face time. Make time. Sit. Stay. Learn. See the struggles. See the successes. See. 

Model for the people–FOR THE KIDS–what making informed decisions looks like. 

Sorry, I could do no more than dream this up, Trevor.

~sy

How can we sustain ourselves when administrators treat us poorly?

-Anonymous

Ours is hard human work. Hard enough in the classroom, but even harder perhaps outside the classroom.

Education on its surface is rather a simple concept. Teachers teaching. Learners Learning. Administrators administrating. Each a role. Each a responsibility. One might think–and many on the outside looking in do–that it’s as simple as that. And one would be wrong…well, not quite right anyway. There’s more at work–much more–beneath the surface, for it, education, is perhaps the most singularly human experiment of the human experience, which depends entirely on the connectedness among the humans in the work, and when there’s a breakdown in that connectedness, it comes apart.

And when things are not together, humans suffer, and when the humans suffer, the work suffers. 

So, then, we have to go to the center of our work to mend ourselves, to mend our work. And that means we have to connect to the human who’s hurting our own human, who’s hurting our work.

Go to them. “I need help. Our relationship is hurting my work. How do we make it better?”

Their turn.

~sy