Morning, all. Tired and uninspired this morning. So, I am not going to force anything. Been a busy but productive week, and I am glad it’s Friday. Proud of how our Wisdom Writers Project is coming together. Kids have worked hard, and I am eager for our publishing party in January. Will share more details in the coming weeks.
I am not a patient person. I have long found patience to be a waste of my time, not a virtue. But as I have gotten older, and as I have tried to become wiser, I have come to learn that patience pays. It pays at home, and it pays in the classroom. And though I am still learning the “art of patience” in both settings, I have discovered that I am a better husband, father, and teacher when I practice patience. So, I try–and sometimes fail–to be patient.
In the classroom, on my journey, I have no choice. I am asking much from the kids. I am asking them to do what they’ve rarely been asked to do in the past. I have asked them to take ownership of their learning, and I have worked hard to create an environment where that is possible. But, just because I want and work for it to happen, it doesn’t mean it happens easily or immediately. It takes effort. It takes time. It takes patience. Sometimes, it takes more than is available or possible. The year is only so long, and the human is still only human.
By the time kids get to me they’ve been conditioned to expect and accept “the way” in education, which I believe leads them to believe that their learning is not in their hands, but the hands of the teacher, that school is something done to them, not with or for them. So, then, when I ask them to take things into their hands, it is strange for them. And it takes time for strange to become normal. And while most move beyond the strangeness and begin to “get it,” some–sadly–never do. One, it cannot be forced. Two, time runs out. That is the way.
And though I am certainly conscious of this dynamic, I still find myself struggling to be patient as things play out. In my weaker moments, I wonder if I shouldn’t just go back to ways less-strange, but those moments are fleeting, and I reach for my resolve, I paw for my patience, and once it is in hand again, I stick to the plan, and I patiently resume the journey, which isn’t always easy.
Yesterday, two of my kiddos made it a little less-hard when they handed me Kindness Cards.
I needed these yesterday. I needed to know that the kids can see what I am trying to be. I have to work intentionally to piece patience into the puzzle of my work, the puzzle of my person. And in doing that, I am learning to find peace in patience.
“We work so hard for kids within a system that doesn’t work for kids.”
Jennifer Risser, 8th grade ELA, Pennsylvania.
One of my connections on Twitter shared this thought with me in response to my #IWonderAndWorry thread. And though she suggests I “nailed it on the head,” it is she, I believe, who more accurately hits the mark. We work too hard in a system that largely doesn’t work for kids. We are stuck in a Sisyphean cycle it seems, forever rolling the rock.
And while I suppose some may see that as a cynical view of our job as educators, and though I cannot deny there may be a mist of cynicism on its edges, it is not the center I seek, for that is the hopeless view of things. And though I am certainly critical of that which is, I am equally hopeful of that which may yet be. I have hope. And so do so many others. It’s why we roll the rock. But we also have our eyes open. And as we look, we see that we created the mountain, the burden in our way. And, too, as we see, we wonder why we can’t just go around the mountain? Surely, there is another way. Surely there is better. And it is just that, a belief in better. We can keep rolling the system up the hill, or we can roll change around it. Both are formidable tasks. It is no easy task, the rebel role, but there’s strength found in rolling something one believes in. There must be, else we would have quit long ago. Better is something to believe in, a a better rock to roll.
Just go along. It’s that easy. Nod and smile. Close your mouth and your door and go along. It’s not gonna matter; it’s not gonna make a difference. So just keep it to yourself. And go along.
I can’t. Too many wonders and too many worries to go along. I can’t. I haven’t. I won’t. Oh, would that I could. I sometimes wonder (it’s what I do) how much easier my path might have been had I just chosen to go along. And sometimes–just sometimes–I wonder if I could go back, fall into place, and ride the rail set before me and quietly go along into the sunset of retirement. But those moments are fleeting, and I come back to the reality that it’s been too long to go along now.
Yesterday, upon wrestling with wonder and worry, I took to Twitter and proposed starting a wonder-and-worry conversation.
And I will kick it off today. And my hope is that we can engage in some forward thinking about the wonders and worries I present. I have little interest in the same old “solutions” that have been recycled time and again because we can’t or won’t break beyond what’s always been. I think we have to think differently to do differently. But it is hard to break beyond. And many will choose not to, claiming we have it figured out–and not to diminish the hard work that others have done in their own pursuits of better, I am not convinced we can rest here. Better waits. But we’ll never get there by going along. We have to go beyond. Beyond along.
Today’s Trail
Along (maybe a poor choice of words) today’s trail we will experience…
Morning, all. Back at it today. Had a hard time getting started this morning. Seems like the only days I can ever sleep in are the days I can’t. Was up at 4:00 all break, and this morning I easily slept past 5:00.
Tired or not, I am eager to reconnect with my kiddos today and to make the most of the next three weeks before winter break. Crazy that we are nearly at the one-third mark for the year. Cannot believe it is already December. Time flies.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s we will experience…
…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…completing a Response to Feedback form for our latest LC.