Each week I seek to make myself unnecessary. I intentionally take myself off the stage, so the students may star. And that is not easy. I like the stage; I like the spotlight. So, giving it up has been difficult; however, doing so has led me to one of my most important and humbling discoveries in my recent efforts to do better. I am not a star. And the “show” has suffered for it. Rotten Tomatoes’ ratings have been unkind, but not out of line. To be sure, the lead has been miscast for years. And I’ve no one to blame but myself. Vanity and ignorance are poor guides for making such important decisions. So, to make up for my misguided notions of the past, I am pointing the spotlight on those who should have been center stage all along.

Here is my general approach to that end…

1. …provide a script that outlines the learning opportunity.
2. …make collaboration and discussion a priority.
3. …provide choice.
4. …create independent and group responsibilities.
5. …make no mention of grades.
6. …relegate myself to a minor supporting character.

This week it took the form of something I am calling “Table Talk.” We are beginning our Holocaust/Injustice Unit, and I wanted to get the kids talking and thinking about injustice. Here is the “script” that I provided.

Here is what it looked like.

My biggest regret is that I cannot share what it sounded like, but if one had been present, one would have heard kids digging deeply into profound discussions about justice. And I? Well, I just sat back and enjoyed the show. Next time, I am bringing popcorn. As for the Tomatometer? Certified Fresh. 100%. Nothing rotten here. Just magic.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…finish our “Table Talk.”

…read and do a SOAPSTone analysis of Elie Wiesel’s Nobel acceptance speech for Night.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better…and avoid rotten tomatoes.

Month two is over in our journey. The speed at which time has gone is unreal. After I had made the jump into the journey last month, October has seemed to feel a lot less overwhelming. The students are still asking plenty of questions about their work in class, but the grading seems to be coming more clear to them.

During the last Learning Log day, our principal and superintendent were doing walk-throughs in the high school and decided to join in on my class at the beginning of second period. Since I am naturally a nervous person about being observed as a new teacher, I was extra nervous when they walked in. At the beginning we did our Smiles and Frowns as we normally do and then I proceeded to hand out the Learning Logs. I explained the changes that Syrie, Ms. T, and I had worked so hard at for their new and improved Learning Log.

The kids started working and I started walking around to help the kids who needed it. I could see our visitors out of the corner of my eye also walking around, asking the kids questions about their work. Their second stop was with Kinsey. I was helping with another student in the same group as Kinsey and paused to listen as they asked her what she was putting on her Learning Log.  Kinsey looked up and asked them “Well, do you know about the LA 10 grading policies?”

Our visitors answered her back that they were aware of them, but they didn’t know a great deal about them. Kinsey then took the initiative to not only tell them all about the grading policies, but show them her growth in the class by letting them look at how many times she has retaken performances to reach proficiency. They left the class and Kinsey completed her assignment.

I sighed with relief. Not because the principal and superintendent were gone, or that Kinsey made me look “good”, but because she understood. I’ve watched Kinsey over the past couple of months grow as a learner, and to hear her articulate her learning to others made the hard work that we have put in worth it. I hope that by the end of our year long journey many other students will be able to do the same thing.

“Sy, I’m gonna make an executive decision.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, jumping up from my desk, pumping my fist, reveling in Jaden’s words.” Truly, music to my ears, a testament to his ownership of his learning.

“I have to get this science paper done.”

“Oh,” I exhaled, quickly turning my disappointment inward, pausing long enough from my moments-ago exaltation to look at–to really see–Jaden. And, as I did, I saw the young man I have gotten to know these past few months in a state of stress, hand compulsively combing through his hair, eyes darting back and forth from his computer to my eyes taking measure of both, weighing his decision.

“Okay, Jade,” I smiled reassuringly. “You gotta do what you gotta do.” And I left him to his decision.

We had just set to work on our final day of writing and self-assessing descriptions when Jaden informed me of his choice. Of course my initial response was joy. I thought he had decided to scrap one of his descriptions and start over or something of that nature, so I was pleased to hear that he was embracing the creative process, which often necessitates starting over. But that was not it at all. It wasn’t even about my class. But it was about Jaden. And I care about Jaden more than I care about the content of my class. And when I found myself in my moment with him yesterday, I, too, had a choice, a choice that made me face myself as much as I had to face Jaden.

I often write about walking and talking, and so I felt I was in a place where I had a chance to walk my talk. I claim to care about kids. I claim to teach kids, not content. I claim to give kids ownership and responsibility over their learning. Yesterday, I believe I made good on those claims. And as with all decisions, there are consequences, there are costs. Yes, I am responsible for teaching English in room 211. No, Jaden didn’t get his descriptions done. Yes, he spent the hour working to get his science paper, not his LA paper, finished. Yes, other kids were witness to the exchange and may now expect the same response from me. And the list goes on. But regardless the cost or consequence, I will own it.

Here’s the deal. A kid needed something. He exercised his ownership. He leveled with me, eye to eye. It was something that I could give, and so I did. That simple. I trust Jaden. He is a committed learner in my room. He will get his descriptions done. It just didn’t happen yesterday. But what did happen yesterday is beyond any assignment–science or LA. Jaden and I–and those who were witness–shared a moment, an experience of mutual trust and respect. And I want to believe that in the end that will pay greater dividends than getting an assignment done.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…have a sentence performance opportunity.

…engage in a team think about injustice (I will write more about this tomorrow).

…reflect in Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Fell back asleep in my chair this morning, so this will be a short, practical post. I have been experimenting a bit with writing. Well, really, I have been experimenting a bit with “writers.” I talk some about teaching writers v. teaching writing, and so to keep myself in check, I have been walking some, too. In an effort to give them some agency over their learning, over their growth as writers, I created an independent opportunity with writing description, one of eight modes of discourse that I am emphasizing this year. I chose description for this independent opportunity because I believe (don’t crucify me here) it is the least risky of the eight for me to turn over to the kids. To be sure, turning something over to kids, even for someone who’s comfortable doing it, creates some discomfort, some anxiety, so I took a smaller risk; I chose description.

Here is what turning it over looked like.

1. I provided guidelines.
2. Kids chose topics/focus.
3. I provided class time for writing (6 uninterrupted days).
4. I provided an analysis opportunity (see below).
5. I posed questions for them to consider along with their analyses.
6. Kids made decisions about revision based on analysis.
7. I created an authentic audience. We are publishing classroom books.
8. I created a self-assessment opportunity (see below).
9. I served as a consultant only.
10. I will not grade their writing.
11. I will not read their descriptions until we have our publishing party.

Nothing terribly fancy, and since it’s my first shot, it most likely is not my best shot, but I turned it over. And I think that’s an important first step in providing ownership opportunities. They have to find their way, which means I have to let go some. And so, I will. I will learn. The kids will learn. We will learn. And we will all get better.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…complete self-assessments of descriptions. 

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

128. 128 students. 128 people. Each different. Each strong. Each fragile. I will try. I will succeed. I will fail.

I will fail. I will enter room 211 today eager to reunite with my kids. I will let them know I have missed them, and I will hope they have missed me. I will seek to know each better through our daily ritual of Smiles and Frowns. I will further push them to discover themselves as writers. I will continue to create ownership opportunities through a gradual release of responsibility with guided self-assessments and reflections. I will push them to think and reflect in our Journey Journals. I will feed the hungry through Project Feed Forward. I will ask them to recite our Mindset Mantra. I will write and deliver a Sappy Sy Rhyme. I will wish them well until I see them next. And I will fail. For as much as I will try to do and be all for my 128, it won’t be enough. I will fail some, maybe many.

And that is a hard pill to swallow. But it is the pill caught in my throat this morning as I reflect on last night’s #tg2chat about equity in the classroom. And no matter how many cups of coffee I drink or how much I rationalize my own perceived noble efforts towards creating an equitable classroom, the pill won’t go down, a stark contrast from the high I was riding from the positive, productive parent-teacher conferences before break. I was on top of the world. Things were coming together. We, students, parents, and I, were converging on a point of trust. I needed to pinch myself. Things were too good. Turns out they were, for I am no longer on high. I am reeling from the realization that it–that I--may not be enough. And I sit here in not-so-quiet desperation, trying to calm the dissonance that reverberates through my being before I reconnect with my kids in a few hours. I did not expect to be at this place this morning. But I am. And that’s okay.

No, I am not comfortable. No, I am not without doubt. But doubt and discomfort are not unfamiliar. In fact they are old friends, come to visit to remind me that I cannot rest, that I must journey forth, that I must seek better. I will fail today. And I will fail tomorrow. I will never win. Never. As if teaching weren’t hard enough, we who seek to create equitable environments also have to carry this heavy truth. But we do carry it. We carry it because we have to. We carry it because we are teachers. Some days the weight is heavier than others. Today is a heavy day. But I will get my legs beneath me again. And in the future, I promise to fail less. That future starts today, two hours from now. I will fail less starting today. Promise.

Thank you Marian Dingle, Peter Anderson, Christie Nold, Benjamin Doxtdator, Arthur Chiaravalli, Aaron Blackwelder, and all the other #tg2chat folks for pushing my thinking and helping me grow.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…continue descriptions and begin self-assessments.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

Next week we have parent conferences. The kids are actually out of school on Monday and Tuesday, but teachers have to be there, have to be available for conferences. Available for conferences. And we will be “available,” but few–very few–will attend. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s been. And that’s how it will be, until we find a way to better make parents partners in public education. At present, especially at the high school level, we have no such way, and while I want to point fingers and place blame, I will resist the urge, for I worry that it will open a door too wide, and I have neither the strength nor the time at this particular trail head, so I will mark it on my GPS, and visit another day. Until then, I will use what time, energy, and control I have to bring parents closer to their kids’ experiences in my classroom. And to do that, I will use our shared connection, our link. Their children.

Today, my kids are going to write letters to their parents about their learning experiences thus far in my class (see below). Importantly, I have taken their talking about grades off the table. One, grades are simply background decoration in the larger setting of learning in my classroom. Two, the parents already know their “grades.” They have access to our online grading system, and they have the midterm report cards in their hands. They know the grade, but they don’t know the story. I want them to know the story. I want them to understand what their kids are experiencing, what their kids are learning, how their kids are learning. And I want kids to tell the story. It is their story. Selfishly, I want to read this chapter, too. I want to hear their stories in greater detail. I talk to my kids a lot. I give them a voice, but I don’t always get the full story. I hope this fills that gap.

Next week, for those parents who actually show up, I will begin the conference by reading the letter to the parent. From there, we will then dig into their child’s portfolio, and I will share my own two cents, but the real story is best left told by she who is living it. No one can explain the learning better than the learner. And as I sit here and write this with the image below, I now wish I had titled this “Learner Letter” instead of “Learning Letter.” Indeed, do, reflect, do better. At least I can make that verbal change with the kids (I’ve already made copies).

In addition to sharing about their learning, I have also presented the kids with an opportunity to apply what we have been learning with writing. And my hope is that the application is even more authentic with a real audience. The kids, though I will ask them to regard this as a positive, will not love this task at the outset today, but my hope is that by the end they will be both surprised by and proud of the yarn they have spun. I am eager to read their stories, and I will share some of them with you all next week.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…write our Learner Letters.

…reflect in our Journey Journals (in observance of Thanksgiving, we have identified and discussed one thing we are thankful for each day as our entry).

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Yesterday, I set four goals for myself with the Sentence Scramble game.

Goal. Provide a novel practice opportunity with clauses and phrases. Goal. Provide opportunity for kids to collaborate. Goal. Minimize my role in the learning process. Goal. Provide a fun learning experience for kids.

Today, I am pleased to announce that I achieved all four. The game was a hit, and I could not be more proud of my kiddos for diving into practicing, collaborating, and having fun–without me. Mission accomplished. It was a noisy, busy affair, but the kids were perhaps the most engaged I have seen them all year. In fact, they were so engaged that they didn’t have time to explain to Mrs. Campbell, one of our assistant principals, what they were doing. It was, indeed, a scramble, in which literally every second counted. So, since I had nothing to do, I explained what we were doing. Pretty cool feeling to have kids so engaged in the learning that they cannot be bothered to talk about their learning. And in truth, it was no less a cool feeling to simply be a member in the audience, an onlooker, a witness to the experience, a witness to teamwork, to learning, to fun.

Today, we will score the game. Each group will have an opportunity to score the others’ boards. My goal here is to provide even more practice with clauses and phrases, but this time it will be in the form of a critique. And of course, the kids believe that there has to be a winner, so we will crown a champ in each period. Nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…score Sentence Scramble boards.

…write Conference Letters (I will talk about this tomorrow).

…reflect in Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Goal. Provide a novel practice opportunity with clauses and phrases. Goal. Provide opportunity for kids to collaborate. Goal. Minimize my role in the learning process. Goal. Provide a fun learning experience for kids.

Wednesdays are grammar days in 211. We are currently venturing into the realm of phrases (prep and and appositive), and I wanted to come up with an engaging way for kids to review clauses and practice phrases, so I invented Sentence Scramble (guidelines below). We have already had a number of practice and performance opportunities with simple, compound, and complex sentences, and we have just begun working with phrases. Last week I introduced prepositional phrases, and today I will briefly (5 minute mini-lesson) introduce appositive phrases. And then we will get our game on with Sentence Scramble.

I have begun using color as a means a to make distinctions among parts of a sentence. My hope is that it creates a more memorable anchor for kids when they are asked to perform. I still use worksheets for practice, but I also seek novel ways to create experiences. I believe kids better remember experiences, not worksheets, so I pursue those experiential moments.

For this edition of the game, I have only made distinct the things that we have covered. As time gets on and we add elements, I will include those in future editions. In the example above, there are two infinitive phrases, but we have not covered them, so I just “lumped them” into the clause category. For now, I am only concerned with having the kids practice what I have put in front of them. I am introducing appositive phrases for the first time today, so my expectations are realistic in that regard. I placed them at a higher point value to encourage risk taking. The kids may use whatever resources they choose (notes, handbook, internet, etc.), but I am not available for the twenty minutes of game play.

We will not have time to score and determine winners today, so we will do that tomorrow. My plan here is to have teams exchange and score each other’s stories. What I like about this is that the kids will have additional opportunities with sentences and phrases through different lenses; they will critique their peers’ work. Again, I look to create experiences, anchors.

As with all things in 211, we will see how it goes. Just another opportunity to do, reflect, and do better. On another note, I have a parent who has taken me up on my open invitation to attend class. However, in having to reach a compromise with her son, it will not be during his class. I tried to sway Nic, but he wasn’t having it. Maybe next time.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…play Sentence Scramble.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Oops. Post-publish update. I just realized that I should have put the prep phrases in the the two appositive phrases in purple. I will point out my error to kids, and I will also tell them that I missed out on 2 points from my error. Dang. Gotta do better.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Slept in a bit, which is a rare occasion for me. Teaching college classes on Monday and Tuesday nights kicks my butt a bit, and today I’m feeling it, so there won’t be much of a post this morning. Thank you for understanding.

So, instead, here are some thoughts that are frequent flyers in my mind as I try to make sense of the educational experience.

1. Prepositions matter. Assessment for Learning v. Assessment of Learning. Two tiny words that make a huge difference. I embrace “for.”
2. Another prepositional perspective. A student’s view: Education is something that is done with me v. Education is something that is done to me. I hang my hat on the former.
3. I can’t get rid of grades, but I can change how I use them. Of course, I mentally add “yet” every time I write the former. For the latter, I make changes every day. And while that may simply seem convenient or vacillatory, I like to think it’s responsive. And for all the critics out there, let’s remember in the absence of certainty–there is no ONE answer to grading–there must be persistence towards and pursuance of an answer. I don’t have the answers. I am just trying to find one. I suspect, then, I have thus found my purpose for the next twenty years. Chasing answers. Chasing better.
4. Learning is a circle, not a line. I believe that as we cycle through life, things eventually click. And I don’t think we can force the click. That is, just because we covered it, and just because the student responded favorably on a test, does not necessarily mean she learned it. I don’t think it’s that simple. I think it’s better to say “she is learning it.” I think we have our time to do our best with our kids, and if we are lucky they may find their clicks when they are with us. And if they don’t, they eventually will, and we still will have made an impact, made a contribution to their progression. I don’t have it all sorted out, but I don’t believe that learning is immediate. I think it’s gradual, eventual. And I think that carries implications in our practice. I toss this one around all the time.
5. Kids are more likely to carry the experience than the content. When I hear teacher-impact stories, it is rare, if ever, that kids speak to the effect of the content that was delivered. More often, they speak of the experience that was lived. That is what they carry. And if that’s true, I seek to give them a heavy load in that regard.

Anyway, that is my attempt at Sleepy Sy sense-making this morning. Thanks for humoring me. Back on track tomorrow.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…conduct a self-analysis of our descriptions.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Ryhme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.