Day Two. This is gonna be harder than I thought. School is such a big part of my life, my identity. Hard to let it go, especially like this. So, to keep connected with the part of school that matters most: kids, I created a way for my kids and me to meet our basic needs with Smiles and Frowns through Google Classroom.
Good morning, all. I am sorry that recent events have resulted in our separation for the coming weeks. I’d like all of us to stay connected, so I am starting a Smiles and Frowns thread in the attached document. Of course, this is completely voluntary–as always. If you participate, please share your smile and/or frown (or pass) along with your name. I will add the date each weekday morning along with my smiles and frowns. I hope you are all healthy and safe. Please email me at any time if you need to connect. I am here. Take care. I miss you.
My Smiles and Frowns from yesterday.
And we connected. Many of the kids expressed gratitude for our having a way to stay connected. Each morning, I will respond to each post they make (takes some time, but it’s time well worth it) and share my own smile and frown. Not the same as being in the classroom, but it’s something, and we all need something right now. I need this. And I believe my kids do, too. It’s basic.
Well, never in a million. Never would I have imagined that we’d be in a place where we had to close school for six weeks. But, here we are. And though I am still processing what “here” is for the short and long term, one thing that is real in the surreality of it all is that we will not be together for some time.
At present, I am not sure what the academic end of it will look like. Still waiting on guidance from our district, who’s doing their best to navigate these new waters, trying to find answers to questions we never expected to ask. I am proud that they are first focusing on what I believe matters more: feeding and taking care of our neediest kids. Academics can wait. People are the primary pieces to this puzzle.
And so, for me, my greatest concern rests in how I can continue to cultivate connection in this time of isolation. I will still attempt to conduct Smiles and Frowns via Google Classroom with my kids. I will also continue to compose and share daily #MyRoomMessages and #SappySyRhymes. Won’t be the same with the distance, but my hope is that I can help us feel less-far away. Not sure what else to do.
As for Project 180, I think I will continue to post daily, but admittedly without my classroom connection and regular reflection, material will be harder to come by. So, for now, I will take it one day at a time, just as I’m sure many of you are as we make our way through this strange time, trying to put the pieces together.
Please reach out if I can be of any help. Take care of yourselves and each other. We will make it through this.
Morning, all. So pleased and proud to announce yesterday’s success with our “Table Talks.” The kids, as always, rose to the occasion, and for ten rounds of tough topics, they talked with each other. It was fascinating to watch and gratifying to feel. And today, I will get to witness the five final rounds of this engaging experience. And though we did not get to the formal reflection yet, the kids gave lots of positive feedback. One of my “tougher customers” (love him and his challenging ways) remarked,
“This is the most epic thing we’ve done all year in here. I love talking with people.”
With people. Yes, he loves to talk. I’ve come to believe he has to, and though he often “has to” at times when I don’t want him to, we have learned our dance, and we step on each other’s toes less often.
Yesterday’s comment made me consider even more deeply the power of letting kids talk with each other, something that we too often stifle in our classroom settings, making me wonder about the implications this may have on a society that struggles to talk with each other. Maybe our suppressing their voices now suppresses their voices later. Maybe our silencing them now silences them later. Maybe our talking at them now makes them talk at others later. I don’t know.
But I do know this. There’s something inside–each. Some cannot contain it. Some have yet to find it. Some can keep it in. And some don’t even believe they have it. But it’s there. And though we seem to place more value on those who contain it–they are our well-managed ones–there is value–greater than we may imagine–in those who cannot keep it in.
I am learning this more as I go. For far too long, I perceived and placed greater value on my “containers” than on my “releasers.” It was a mark of my good management. I could keep my “releasers” in check. But at what cost? In contrast to past practice, I’ve now come to believe it is a necessary release. They have to do it. They have to talk, even at some of the more inopportune times. So, I have learned to let them–to a degree. I am not suggesting we don’t provide some checks along the way, but I am suggesting we learn to dance with them. I have become a better partner over the years, and though I still stumble awkwardly around the floor at times, I am learning to let my kids lead more as a way of showing me the meaning in their moves. This particular partner has been showing me all year long. He has to talk. Has to. So, I let him.
It’s going to be uncomfortable–maybe a little more than I expected, given our classroom culture, but I guess it makes sense. Sharing Smiles and Frowns is one thing. Discussing societal issues is quite another, especially with how I am asking my kids to do it.
When they walk in the room today, they will find fifteen sets of paired, facing desks. To begin, the kids may sit where they like, but as the activity gets underway, they will rotate every two minutes, conversing with a new partner each time about a different topic.
They will be discussing the top fifteen class-selected societal issues, narrowed down from the forty-five I originally presented. The issues range from homelessness, to gun control, to childhood obesity, to climate change. And each period’s top fifteen varied a bit, so the topics will vary over the course of the day as kids share their views with each other. And this is where it took a bit of unanticipated turn.
Some kids are not comfortable sharing their personal views with someone else in such a way (paired together). I expected a little anxiety, but I figured most, if not all, would jump at the chance to express their views. But I was wrong. And though I have fretted some over this, I am not going to change the physical format of the activity. But I am going to make some changes to hopefully alleviate some of the anxiety.
I think part of the problem exists due to the “debate-to-divide” experiences kids have had up to this point. Though I have advised them that today’s goal is not to debate but discuss the issues, I think it’s hard for some to step away from past experience, believing there has to be a winner and a loser. It’s how they’ve been conditioned. So, I think that is causing some distress among some. So, this is how I will help.
First, I will tell the kids why I am not changing the physical format. It will sound something like this:
I know this format is uncomfortable for some of you. It’s hard to talk about hard things, especially with someone you don’t know well and with someone who may have very different views from you. I know that. And I hope you know by now that I neither seek nor enjoy putting you in anxious moments. And that is not my goal here. Never my goal. But I will challenge you. And today I am challenging you to try what we have forgotten how to do as a society: talk with each other. Just that, talk with each other. Not at or even to, but with each other. To sit down for two minutes and have a conversation about things that are broken in our society. To have a conversation that is as much about listening as it is speaking. Maybe more about listening. Today is not about right or wrong, win or lose. Today is about coming to the table to see, to hear, to understand the space that divides us and staying in the conversation. I believe we have to talk. Sometimes, I think the divide is so wide because we don’t. We have to talk with each other. That is my challenge for you.
Second, I will also tell my kids:
“It’s just a conversation about the topic. You can go as deep or stay as shallow as you’d like. You don’t have to argue.”
“If you find yourself not wanting to talk about a particular issue, offer to listen.”
“If all else fails, and you find yourself in an awkward moment, just talk with each other.”
I hope this helps settle some. I hope. I am really eager to see how this goes today. Tomorrow, I will share some of the feedback I get from kids. Fingers crossed that “with talk” we can build some bridges.
Anyone seen an hour? It vanished. Looked for it all day yesterday, but to no avail. Last seen Saturday night. It was there when I went to bed, but it was gone Sunday morning. If found, please return to owner.
Kids already lose enough sleep for various reasons–some their own fault. But for the next three or more days, our rooms with be filled with sleepier-than-usual kids. Makes me wonder if we shouldn’t do a late start for a few days while kids’ clocks adjust to the change. Maybe sleepier-than-usual adults would benefit, too.
But, that’s not likely, so we will just manage through it as we always do, lamenting our loss.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…considering positions and reasons on class-selected issues.
…preparing for tomorrow’s “Table Talk” activity.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Monday, all. If you find that hour, I will be at Cheney High School all day.
Morning, all. Tired. Running behind. Stressed. So, gonna take the easy road this morning and simply wish everyone a wonderful weekend. Be back at it Monday. Sorry.
I imagine we’ve all had him in class. Most of us probably have him right now. I believe I have had him every year of my career, and though he hasn’t changed, I have, and I now perceive and receive him differently.
I used to fight him, and in that struggle, that conflict, it was always about my way or the highway. And I was proud of my power to prevail, to win. To win. “Cringe,” as my kids would say. Proud to win. Ugh. That was me.
Kids come to us in various ways. And though some of those ways are in stark contrast to what we expect and accept, they are nonetheless, the “ways” they are. “He” comes in his way. And though he on some level has to own his way, we on another level have to own it, too, in that kids don’t always choose their ways. They just are, and as they are, they are challenges for themselves as well for us.
I believe there’s a time when most of us come to realize that behavior is communication. As I came to realize that, less-early than I would care to admit, I came to listen better to what they were trying to communicate. I say, “try,” because it’s as hard for them to speak as it is for us to listen. A lot can get lost in translation, especially if we aren’t careful to listen. I am a better, more careful listener now.
And, I have worked hard to listen to him all year. Some days, admittedly, have been harder than others–even impossible–but I have stayed the course, taken the long road to listen, to learn, to understand. And though, we still have a long ways to go, things have changed recently with him. And, I have had to lean in because this new behavior seems to be carrying a new message. So, I want–I need–to understand.
Yesterday, I joked with him about this “new leaf,” wanting him to know that I noticed, that I appreciated this side. I won’t say “new side,” for that suggests I made it happen. And I don’t believe that. If anything, I just let it happen. The “side” was always there. I just had to give him time to reveal it in his own way, time to trust me enough to show it. We had to take the long road. And the road goes on.
Of course, he won’t be my last him. I will get a new one next year. But I will not soon forget this year’s him. He won’t let me.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…engaging in a teacher-directed self-assessment of our latest Learning Check.
“Uh, so, if I had to take a guess, I’d suggest that we’re not getting this, eh?”
I was met with a sea of agreement as a roomful of nods told me what I already knew. I blew it. The kids were not sufficiently set-up for the task at hand. And it was not their fault. It was mine.
I had rushed into it, believing I could make up for the leap by catching the few who would struggle, over-estimating my ability to support kids on the swim, for as I was scrambling to clarify and support, kids were sinking all around me. And in a last-ditch effort to save our souls as the period was coming to an end, I launched a lifeboat.
“Okay, I messed up. I didn’t sufficiently set you up for this and my attempts to make up for it aren’t working, so we are going to try this again tomorrow. I am sorry.”
Though my intentions were good and I thought well-aimed, I got in over my head. I have been trying all year to use my honors curriculum with my one section of “regular LA,” and though it has gone generally well (proud of my kids), I tanked this one. So, today, I am going to make up for it, not by lowering my expectations but by elevating my support. Kids can do this. They have shown me that all year long as we have worked together to get there. Yesterday, I did a poor job of orchestrating “together,” and today I will seek to do better.
Thank goodness the kids were good sports about it and didn’t mutiny and make me walk the plank. They really were trying despite my steering us into the rocks. Sorry they had to suffer through it. Kids really are the best.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…cultivating community with “Connection Cards.”
…completing (for reals this time) our Learning Check on tone analysis.
If education truly valued learning, no child would ever feel dumb. Challenged, yes. Dumb, never. And challenged would, of course, be followed by supported. Anything else isn’t learning.
Learning necessitates challenge. Learning necessitates support. Learning is the spot between the challenged student and the supporting teacher, that place where the learner’s needs give rise to the teacher’s purpose. I believe this is the essence of our existence in education, a shared struggle to learn and grow. And, more, I believe that though the struggle is there, it is never a place nor an existence where a learner would feel inadequate or dumb. But, if one asked most–maybe all–classrooms to raise their hands if they’ve ever been made to feel inadequate or dumb, a mountain of hands would rise. And that is not okay.
It is perhaps one of the greatest wrongs we perpetuate in education, where ranking and sorting seem to take center stage, unfolding a drama that inevitably marks, among a number of things, kids “dumb.” Of course we don’t actually say, “dumb,” but that is what kids come to believe when we sort them. And dumb becomes dangerous. There are signs of this damage throughout our culture. Kids develop fixed mindsets about subjects (sometimes as early as kindergarten). Kids don’t ask questions. Kids don’t take risks. Kids hate school. Kids cheat. Kids hide–in plain sight.
But, if, as I said above, we truly valued learning in education, this should never happen. Why would a kid in a learning environment in the care of a supportive teacher ever feel dumb? Maybe we don’t value learning as much as we profess or pretend. Maybe we need to re-center ourselves around the noble charge of helping kids grow rather than the dangerous practice of sorting students.
And though I am not entirely sure how we right this monumental, institutional wrong, I think we make strides when we acknowledge and begin to amend.
