I wanted to slay the status quo. Meet it in its lair, head on, and fight until only one emerged.

Well, it looks like two cups–large cups–of coffee and staring intently into my computer screen for a half hour aren’t gonna be enough to conjure up a post this morning. Doesn’t happen very often, but it happens. Sometimes, I just don’t know what to write about.

Of course, most mornings–if I am honest, I usually don’t know until I sit down at the keyboard and it comes to me as I reflect on my experiences in and out of the classroom. And most mornings it readily presents itself, but some mornings, I just come up empty. Still, I remain hopeful, even now as I ramble on, I am hopeful that something will find me as I start my third cup of coffee. Come on coffee. Do your magic.

I never planned to write this frequently or this long. I really didn’t know what to expect when I started my blog three years ago. I was just happy I finally started, for I had wanted to do it for some time. And now, especially on a morning like this, I wonder if I can reach my goal of sustaining Project 180 for five years. Do I have another two-and-a-half years in me? I think so. I hope so.

It’s become habit. 668 posts can be habit forming. And as I now daily dive into my habit, I wonder. Am I writing for me? Am I writing for them? If I stopped would it matter? Have I achieved my goals? What are my goals? Am I making a difference? Am I changing education?

See, that’s what I set out to do. Change education. I wanted to slay the status quo. Meet it in its lair, head on, and fight until only one emerged. I have since put down my sword, but I am still fighting. I just use my pen–well, keyboard. I still want to challenge the status quo, for I believe we must and can change education, but I don’t think it’s a single battle won in combat. No, I think it’s going to be a lengthy campaign of discovery. I don’t think we need to change en masse, all at once. Rather, I just think we need to journey forth challenging convention, flirting with discomfort, daring different, and telling our tales.

In the end, that’s what I think I am doing. I am simply sharing my journey. I don’t have the answers, and I don’t want to tell others what they have to do. No, rather, I want them to discover what they can do. And so, each day, I share as I do, as I reflect, and as I try to do better.

Six-hundred, sixty-eight posts later, I am less alone. And for that I am eternally grateful and encouraged. I will continue. I will journey forth. But not alone. I am together. I am connected. I am inspired. I am humbled. Thank you for joining in me in your own discovery to do things not because that’s how they’ve always been done, but because that’s how they can be done to make our kids’ educational experiences more fulfilling. We can do different. We can trust our instincts. And as we do, we will fail, so we can succeed for our kids in our rooms, where it all begins. And as we share our rooms with others, we connect our rooms with others, and from there we change education.

We can change education. I believe that. I really do.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…demonstrating learning with the final theme performance.

…preparing for Learning Conferences.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Well, so much for not having anything to write about. I’ll do better tomorrow. Have a great Tuesday, all. Thank you for being my “together.”

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I should have gone in this weekend. Piles are high. Time is short. But the list is long at home, too. And there is the fam. Oh, and there’s also me. I can think of me, can’t I?

As we near the end of semester one, there is a lot to do. There’s always a lot to do, but with the added urgency of disappearing days, stress can run high for teachers as we juggle the many demands we face in our lives.

So, yes, I should have gone in to school and gotten less behind. I always say “less behind” because I don’t think we are ever caught up. I should have, but I didn’t, and if I could go back, I wouldn’t have gone in. I vowed not to. I decided to leave school at school this year–for me and my kids.

Laziness? Selfishness? Malpractice? I don’t know. I guess if there’s some guilt, maybe. But it might also be healthy. For though I undeniably still feel pangs of guilt when I don’t go in on Sundays anymore, I feel happier, I teach happier, and I live happier. This has been my happiest year of my twenty-three so far, even during the SAD season that is now, that has always been for me during this dreary time of year.

I had an aha moment a few years back. And it was from that moment that I started moving away from school when I was away from school. I give everything when I am at school. I strive ardently and diligently to give my students the best of me, all of me–as most of us do. But when we always give our best, there’s a cost. There’s only so much “best” to spend, so while I was giving my all at school, I was neglecting my family; I was neglecting myself, insofar as we rarely got the best of me. I love my students, but the people I love most, my family, were getting leftovers, when they should have been getting the full meal. So I decided, for my family, for my students, for myself, I had to make some changes. I quit dividing myself and started dividing my time. At school, my kids would get me, all of me. At home, my family would get me, all of me. That’s just the way it had to be.

Of course, I am still adjusting. Still haven’t found the switch to “fully turn off” school, and I probably never will. I will likely always feel a bit guilty, but more and more, I am becoming okay with that. Yes, it’s harder at the end of semester to ignore the pile, but in the end, I think it’s been a wise decision. We have to take care of ourselves, even if that means taking back our weekends and learning to live with the guilt. We have to reach past the pile of papers.

So what did I do with my Sunday? I climbed a tree. For real. I decided to challenge myself to climb 100 trees in the new year. Yesterday I made climb #5. I am calling it Reaching Higher. I didn’t find a pile a papers yesterday, but I did find some joy for myself. Don’t think I should feel guilty for that.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting with Smiles and Frowns.

…finishing up a few Truth Project interviews and presentations.

…demonstrating learning with theme on a final Performance.

…preparing for grading conferences.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all. Take care of you.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Sy, I can’t do it. I can’t present to the whole class.”

“I know.”

Interestingly, maybe ironically, her topic for her project was “responsibility.” In truth, it’s her second topic. The first one was “love,” but she lost her nearly six-minute “documentary” that she had created as her medium (for reals, I saw it), asking scores of people to define love. And it deflated her. And though I offered to call it even, for I knew what she had done, she insisted of her own volition to do another project. But there was a catch. She still wasn’t going to present it to the class. Of course, I already knew that.

I’ve known it since the first day of class when she came to me in near-panic over having to share from our “Meet Me” activity. She had informed me then, as she still informs me now, “she doesn’t share with large groups.”

A younger Sy would have insisted. She has to learn to face her fears. It’s part of her responsibility for completing the project. A younger Sy, was not so wise. But he has learned.

But what about responsibility? What about facing fear? For the former, she wasn’t avoiding her responsibility. She did all the work–twice. Never once have I felt like she was shirking on her responsibilities. In fact, in some regard, she has shouldered more than most of her “responsible” peers, who have presented their work to the entire class. For the latter, I’m not gonna do it. I am not sure it is my responsibility to force kids into situations in which they have confided and demonstrated genuine fear over. Call me irresponsible.

So what did I do? I sat down with her one-on-one for her interview and presentation. She came in on her own time and for nearly ten minutes she transfixed me with her impressive work. She demonstrated poise. She used just the right voice for the space, speaking every word clearly. She exhibited life, as she was obviously into her work and topic, showing emotion and enthusiasm. She made and held eye contact. She used gestures that were helpful and not distracting. And she moved at a sufficient speed, slowing down and speeding up when necessary. She did all these things. Just not in front of her peers.

In the end, I believe my responsibility is about meeting my kids where they are and providing the opportunities that help them grown and learn. I don’t think it’s about forcing one-size-fits situations. Of course, such an approach can be a little unconventional and even overwhelming at times, but I’ve never been afraid of “doing different” and taking on a bit more for my kids.

She couldn’t present to the class.

Okay.

Such things don’t need to be game-over situations. They can simply be game-changing situations. We can change the game, especially when we are the ones making the rules.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…wrapping up (mostly) interviews and presentations.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

In the real world…

Yesterday…

She had a panic attack.

He was up at 5:00 AM to do his chores, so he could get to zero-hour band.

She didn’t have breakfast.

He met six different deadlines in six different classes.

She didn’t do her homework because no one was at home to take care of her younger brothers and sisters.

He thought about suicide.

She didn’t tell someone about sexual assault.

He wore the same clothes he had the three days before.

She was bullied on social media.

He missed the game-winning free throw.

She was medicated. Her anxiety is crippling otherwise.

He binged on the food he had hidden in his room. And then hated himself for it.

She silently endured racism.

He didn’t “come out.”

He did drugs again. He doesn’t know how to stop.

They broke up. They didn’t know how to make it work.

No one talked to her. They never do.

His mom died.

…in the real world.

Whether we think it or say it, when we warn kids with the “real world,” it is an affront to their existence, to their humanity, to their reality. The kids, the humans above attend Anywhere High School in Everywhere, World. And whether it was yesterday, today, or tomorrow their world feels real enough. Ask them. They’ll tell you.

Nothing is more real than now. Yesterday’s gone. Tomorrow’s not here. All we have–young or old–is today. Now. Are there things we can bring to the attention of our young from our own experiences in the world? Of course. But the key here is that they are our experiences, not theirs. And even for us, each of us, that experience was different, so when we say “real world,” whose world, which world are we talking about? We often seem to suggest there is a standardized, formulaic experience that is the real world. Maybe instead of placing some future world on their shoulders, we should just simply help them with the one that lies on their shoulders right now. Otherwise, we might be placing lies on their shoulders.

We have an opportunity to exist with and support kids as they make their ways through their worlds, worlds that are the most real they can be, for they are now. That’s the “real talk” we should be having with them.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…sharing our Truth Project work.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all. Sorry that my post was a little “edgier” than usual. Been on my mind lately. Had to get it out.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“I’m so nervous,” she shared.

“Good,” I replied. “It means you care.”

She wasn’t the only one who announced her anxiety yesterday. She wasn’t the only one to whom I replied, “good.” Of course, I also followed up with, “You are going to do great. It’s just us, and we are going to be with you–every step of the way. Promise.”

It’s just us. You know the “us” with whom you have engaged for seventy-nine days so far this year. The us who knows some of your story. The us who knows your smiles and frowns, your ups and downs. The us who sees you every day, who hears your name spoken, who listens, who knows. Us.

Of all the things kids do in the classroom, presenting may be one of the most difficult. Glossophobia (fear of public speaking) is real. Ask and people will tell you. Most of us hate speaking in public. It’s scary. But I believe we can make it less scary in our classrooms. I’m not certain we can make it easy, but we can make it less scary.

I have been trying to make it less scary since the start. My kids have been “presenting” since day one with Smiles and Frowns, sharing their stories with their peers. My kids have grown accustomed to having their names spoken each day, as we go around and I speak their names as a signal of their turn to share. My kids have become comfortable with looking into the eyes of their peers who look back, who smile and nod, laugh and cry with them. I have been constructing “us” since they crossed the threshold, and I will continue to build until they cross it for the last time.

Of course, some think such building a waste of instructional time. For, make no mistake, it takes time. I spend roughly 5-7 minutes per period each day with Smiles and Frowns. At minimum, I have spent invested 400 minutes. Invested. I have invested 400 minutes in kids and community this year. By year’s end, it will exceed 1,000. Waste of time? Really? In the end, we all “spend” our time. I choose to spend it on kids. I decided sometime ago, that the most important thing in the room is the humans in the room. So every day, we start with the humans in the room. We start with us.

Yesterday, my Nervous Nellie’s and Nervous Ned’s took the stage. And they shined. Once they got going, one might have never known they were nervous at all. Many beautiful moments yesterday as kids found their voices. Today’s “stars” won’t be any less nervous, I suppose, but as the year goes on and they continue to have such experiences, I hope they develop a deeper trust in us. No trust if there’s no us, so I work hard on the us. Every day.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…kids’ shining in their moments with their interviews and presentations.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

There were some awkward, clumsy moments. But I will hang it on my fridge. It won’t be hanging in any galleries. But I was proud of our beautiful mess yesterday.

Started our “Truth Project” interviews and presentations yesterday. Kids have had roughly five weeks to pursue a universal idea (theme) in various media to come up with their own truth via a theme statement, for which they had to create their own medium to reflect their discovered “truth.”

Early on in the project, as I was considering the end game for the kids’ work, I decided to have them participate in an interview rather than write an essay. I wrote about my reasons in this earlier post (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/in-the-hot-seat-project-180-day-63/). But the short of it, in an attempt to provide a more-likely, real-world experience, I wanted to give my kids an opportunity to sit in the interview seat, where they could not only share their work but also practice engaging an audience.

I provided seven questions in advance for them to consider and prepare responses for, which they submitted to me on the day of their interview. I also asked them to consider and select one or two of the “engaging-an-audience skills” below, on which they would focus and get feedback on.

PVLEGS

Poise: Appear calm and confident, avoid distracting behaviors

Voice: Speak every word clearly, use just the right volume for the space

Life: Express passion and emotion with your voice

Eye Contact: Connect visually with the audience, look at each audience member

Gestures: Use hand motions, move your body, have an expressive face

Speed: Talk with an appropriate speed—not too slow, not too fast, use pauses for effect and emphasis

Importantly, I do not make “speaking skills” part of their grade. Kids get feedback from their peers and me, but I do not take an already hyper-anxious moment and make it more so by attaching a grade. I think we do kids a great disservice in this area in general. They so rarely get any real preparation or practice in this area, only performances, and during those “performances” they are often held to unrealistic, have-not-been-adequately supported expectations. They are usually placed on the stage and are expected to magically transform themselves into TedTalkers. Anyway, I only give experiences and feedback when it comes to speaking.

For the interview, kids are asked the questions by a panel of their peers. The interview ends with the kids sharing their truth statements and created mediums. And, then, we provide them with feedback.

How’d the first day go? Well, it was the first day. Kids were nervous. Most were prepared. Some weren’t. A few had to ask for an extension. There were some awkward, clumsy moments. But I will hang it on my fridge. It won’t be hanging in any galleries. But I was proud of our beautiful mess yesterday. For even in the messiness that is learning, there were a lot of bright moments.

A particular highlight for me came during 5th period. He was first up, super nervous, and as it turned out, not well-prepared. He stumbled, but his peers saved him. Well, they coaxed him along, rephrased questions, nodded, smiled, and reassured. In the end it wasn’t a “good” interview or presentation, but it wasn’t a terrible experience. It was a great model of empathy and compassion. In their feedback at the end, the kids encouraged him to be more confident, telling him that he got better as it went on. It was a proud moment for me.

Another highlight came 6th when a young lady of color shared her truth about the evils of racism. She nailed the interview, impressing us not only with her poise and gestures (her selected focus-skills) but also–especially–with her passion and personal investment in her topic and work. Below is her truth and medium.

“People don’t see the evils of racism until their eyes are opened to its existence.”

Proud of my kids. All of them, from the messy to the shiny.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…continuing interviews and presentations.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

~William Stafford, “The Way It Is”

Something stirred. An ancient thread faintly danced. I had not felt it in years. It had gone still, but it had not been forgotten. Never forgotten. It was first. But first made way for many. So, when it stirred, I was wakened. I was transported to the time of beginning.

Twenty-three years ago it began. It started with a single thread, a kid, which has become my material of choice as I have built my career. And as the years have passed, I have added countless threads to my web, connected to kids, but it all started with one. He showed me the way, he was the catalyst of my craft.

Eddy. In the fall of ’96, a young, skinny, wide-eyed, single-parented, Hispanic boy showed me the importance of making connections. He needed me not for the content I taught, but for the human I was. And in so doing, he ignited in me an understanding about the necessity and power of humanity in the classroom, that, in the end, we teach kids, not content. And from there, a young Syrie went on to build, from a single thread. Eddy.

This past weekend, out of the blue on Saturday morning, I got a Facebook message from a former student Rosario, Eddy’s wife. She wanted me to know that Ed was in town for the wrestling tournament at our high school, and she encouraged me to go see him. And I did.

I had not seen Ed since he graduated 17 years ago. He’s now 35, and I am 47. Much has changed for both of us since then. Life has dealt trials, tragedies, and triumphs, but through all, the thread has remained. Consequently, I was “in my feelings” for the rest of the weekend. I owe so much to this young man. He showed me the way. He showed me myself. And I am so grateful for the path he provided, for the thread he tethered. I have never let go of that thread.

But, really, this is neither exceptional nor special. This has played out many times, with many teachers, in many classrooms, and over many careers. It’s what teachers do. We connect. We build. We weave. I am proud to be among the many who have woven the threads of humanity. We are teachers. We are weavers.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…being interviewed and giving presentations.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Back with the kids today. Can’t wait to see how they’ve grown. They had work over break. Oh, I didn’t assign anything, and they didn’t know it, but they had work to do, and my hope is that they weren’t even aware they were doing it. But today, ready or not, I will take measure.

No test. No pop quiz. This is a different measure. I am going to simply watch and listen. That is how I will take measure.

Fortunately, I have a meter in place to take such readings, to extract such data. Nothing scientific. Just a good old-fashioned look-them-in-the-eye and listen-with-my-heart approach. Smiles and Frowns.

For those new to the 180 classroom, Smiles and Frowns is an activity we do every day at the start of every period. We go around the room, and we each share a smile and/or frown from our lives. Kids always have the option to pass. It takes five to seven minutes. We do it every day–no matter what. For seventy-five days, we have shared ourselves, our stories, and today, now that we are back, I will take measure of its impact on our classroom culture.

But why today? Why take measure today? The kids have been away for two weeks. Away for two weeks. That is something we’ve not had. But it’s exactly what we needed. Time away. Time to reflect. Oh, I doubt my kids spent much time reflecting on theme or methods of elaboration, but I will bet they spent time thinking about each other, thinking about our community. And as they did, I hope they were taking their own measure of themselves and the world, particularly the little world that we have together created in room 206 thus far this year.

Of course, I am not so naive to think that they spent a significant amount of time doing so, but my hope is that in their quieter moments they did find themselves thinking back on their experiences over the past seventy-five days, and it is my greater hope that, as they did, they were reminded of a sense of belonging, a sense of connection. Experiences are anchors. I hope all of my kids feel securely anchored in room 206.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…finalizing interview and presentation preparations for our projects.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all. Good to be back.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.