Dang. Deleted. Just deleted the post for fear that I was gonna run out of time. I guess that’s what happens when inspiration waits until the third cup of coffee. So, it’ll have to wait now until after break. But maybe that’s good better.

Till then, here’s a sneak peak at the perk I got from cup three this morning.

And I am wrestling–every day, as I face the sobering struggle of connecting my “who’s” with my “how’s” for the “what’s” of the work. And I wanted to write about it this morning, but time decided otherwise. I will continue to pursue the who after break. Sorry, all.

And with that, I will wish everyone a happy, safe holiday. Take care.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Kinda limpin’ along right now. The kids aren’t motivated. I’m not motivated. I imagine that’s likely the case in classrooms across the country–the globe–right now. Always a tough time to be motivated with break so close, this year seems even tougher. But to the kids’ credit, they are still limping along with me, and we are just trying to maintain forward motion. And maybe that’s all we can hope for. Forward.

Of course, some kids aren’t moving at all, not an inch. And while I try not to take that personally during this time, it’s hard. I try. I beg and beseech. But they ain’t budging. And I won’t resort to a heavy hand, so they stay where they are. Oh, I circle back each day to check on them, to see if anything has changed, but there they stand immovable. And though it taps on my teacher forehead, reminding me of my duty; it also tugs at my human heart, reminding me of my humanity. And I limp, accepting the burden of the back and forth between my heart and head, my movers and my stayers. All I can do. I’m only human.

Happy Thursday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Now, what are we doing?”

This is not an unfamiliar utterance in the classroom. Even with the most careful directions, it is not uncommon for students to ask again what we’re doing.

But it–in my experience–seems no less familiar in another setting: the staff meeting. Many–many–times we have been given direction, gotten into groups, and the first words spoken are, “Now, what are we doing?”

So is it a student thing? A teacher thing? It seems a human thing. It seems things don’t always connect as we expect.

And I have come to accept that. Oh, I still work hard–probably too hard–to create careful initial instruction. I think I am good at it. And once upon a classroom I thought that was enough, and if kids didn’t respond as expected, it wasn’t on me; it was on them. Damn it, I give great directions.

So much ego. Too much ego. And for too long, I let my ego dictate my teaching. Oh, I am not without ego, now (none of us are), but now I better know it’s not about me. And I also now know better that initial instruction is just that–an initial step. It’s not teaching. Teaching is what follows. Teaching is responding. And one of our first responses is to clarify. And sometimes–often times–it is the second and third step, too. And, what’s more, it’s never really the same for any, so our responses have to be as diverse as our learners. And once I came to accept that, the whole experience changed for me–and my kids. Yes–internally–I sometimes feel frustration flair, but I keep that to myself as I patiently explain again and differently, “What we’re doing.”

And what we’re doing, on a grander scale, is engaging in the ritual of human learning. It’s messy. It’s inconvenient. And, if we let it, it’s beautiful. But I didn’t know until I let go my ego.

I am still learning to let go.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Internet day? Some of you know and some of you will learn once you’ve woken, but everything Google is down right now. And if it’s not fixed in the next few hours, it may well be we find ourselves in a cyber snow day of sorts. And though I am sure the engineers at Google will get the “roads plowed” in the next few hours, it’s interesting to wonder what we might do if they don’t. And…they are plowed. Google’s back.

Looks like we will avoid a cyber snow day after all, but with nearly everything Google, it’s hard to imagine that we could conduct business in a meaningful way without it. Strange times we are living in. But, I guess, as we have learned here in 2020, we just keep adapting and doing our best (better) to move forward. I am sure we aren’t rid of the hiccups yet.

Happy Monday, all. Now that I can drive on the roads again, I’m gonna get some school work done.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

There’s wonder in the wait. Yes, there is the “I-wonder-if-they’ll-ever-turn-it-in” aspect to wait and wonder, but I am talking about a different wonder. I am talking about the simple act of leaving the door open and the wonder that follows when they finally walk through the door.

For too many years I thought the door was set to a timer. It had to close. Time was up. Deadlines and due dates have doors. This made sense to me. So I shut the door. And for a time sadly, I slammed the door by attaching penalties to their irresponsible behaviors. It was the way, and many around me confirmed this with their own “Sorry, we’re closed” late-work policies.

That was then. I have since opened myself and my door to invite possibility. I have no “closed” sign. In fact, I took the door off its hinges. It’s always open–because I never know when they may decide to enter.

Last night, according to the time stamps on the emails, Kat (name changed) showed up at my door at 10:55 PM and continued to pass in and out until 2:33 AM this morning, turning in every missing assignment for the quarter. It was the first of any work she’s turned in. And I wonder.

I wonder what changed, what motivated? There is wonder in this for me. I don’t marvel and wonder at the kids who always turn in their work on time. I wonder and marvel at the kids who finally find their way to the door. There is something to that I think. Yes, some would call it irresponsible behavior. But I find a certain beauty in it, and I would hate to have ruined these important steps of her journey by presenting a closed door at the destination. She got through it–whatever it was. She made the journey. And she found the door open when she arrived.

Yes, it would be ideal if she and all my kids met their deadlines. But working with humans is rarely ideal. I learned this long ago. And in my learning, I discovered the decision of the door is mine to make. And I choose to leave it open. While I wait and wonder.

Happy Friday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Is my feedback helping you learn?

A feedback focus has me focused on feedback. More specifically, my attention has turned to learning about the impact that my feedback has on learning. And to learn that, I am turning to my kids for help.

In November, I started down this particular path with my three-part series on the Feedback Journal, which began with “A Why on the Wind” (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/why-feedback-journal-part-1project-180-day-53/). Since then, I have come up with a version of a journal which we will use to capture our work. This is what I am presenting to my kids today.

I want them to see all of our experiences as collaborative endeavors. Less me. Less them. More us. Not always an easy sell to skeptical buyers. But I continue to make the pitch in both word and deed. This is just my latest attempt to change–and hopefully better–the experience. Eager to discover what we learn together.

Happy Wednesday, all. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Will try to wrap this up this morning. Thank you for your patience.

Due Draft

I don’t call last drafts, “final drafts.” I call them “due drafts,” honoring the notion that writing is never done, only due. We just run out of time, and we have to prepare our last draft as best we can for the purpose it serves. And that purpose varies. In person, I try to create publishing opportunities.

Whenever possible, I ask kids to share their writing, to read it aloud to the class (or at least parts of it). I have found that this makes them care more authentically about their writing than just turning it in to me for a grade. But I also try to find writing opportunities for them to publish writing that moves beyond trite, transactional school writing. They don’t want to share that type of writing, and frankly, we don’t want to hear that type of writing. Again, the emphasis is on the writer, not the writing, and if the writer is going to engage in the writing, then I believe we have to give them some choice. So, I do.

But what about the standards? You mean focus/purpose, organization, and elaboration? They’re there. They’re always there. And that is where we meet and learn. And when I give kids choice and purpose (publish to peers), I find they are more engaged in their growth as writers. We also publish “Classroom Anthologies.” By the way, for kids who are too anxious to share aloud with the entire class, they share with me and a few of their peers. They select their peers. But with the intentional work that I put in to building our classroom community with daily Smiles and Frowns, etc., most kids are comfortable enough to share with the entire class, buying my pitch, “it’s just us.”

Of course, in our distance-reality, this is really not an option for many reasons. Things are just a little different this year–socially and academically, and so, I am trying to find ways to publish writing. But, the focus on the writer has not changed; it’s still about the process, not the product. Last quarter, I only glanced at their due drafts to note completion of the process. But I did read–carefully–their required reflections. That’s right, I didn’t read their final drafts. Didn’t need to. The process had come to an end. I did my looking along the way, engaging with them in the feedback/response process. To help frame this, I called our writing experience, “Project Writer,” telling kids that we were in the process of building writers, not making products. As such, in the end, their self-assessment of and reflection on the process is what got my attention. I can’t tell them it’s about the writer only to look at the writing in the end. The writing is done; it stays. The writer will move forward, and before she goes, I want her to capture her experience for a moment. She is not done. And I want her to know that.

So much more to say about all of this, and I never did get to how I “grade” writing in my feed-back focused classroom, but that may be a good thing (it’d likely only make more murky already muddy waters). So, I will just end by going back to my original point: there is a danger in done. It takes away from the opportunity to honor the process and the learner. It places the focus on the product and too often the grade, both of which stay static as the dynamic doers move along. So, I focus on the doers, who are never done.

Happy Tuesday, all. Gonna move along from here. Sorry I lingered as long as I did.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

How do I deal with final drafts? I don’t. Well, mostly. Let me explain.

As I have suggested before, I don’t teach writing. I teach writers. As such, I focus on the process not the product. Yes, there’s a product, but it’s simply a function of the process, a by-product of the process.

But process is more than the stages of the writing. Process, I believe, is what we do during the stages. I call it the feedback/response process, and it is here where my writers and I meet. It is here where learning happens.

My writers and I meet in three places along the way, regardless the mode of writing: Focus/Purpose, Organization, and Elaboration. As writers, this is what I want them taking along with them as they continue to grow after they go. For, they will continue, unlike the products, which I wrote about back in October with “Trash Talk” (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/trash-talk-project-180-day-41/). Most of their products will end up in the trash. So, with that in mind, I don’t worry so much about polishing the products as much as I care about “polishing” the people by engaging with them in the feedback/response process along the way. Here’s a rough look at that way in my class.

Down Draft

After the brainstorming and idea-gathering. I just ask the kids to get it down. Really it’s a discovery draft of sorts. It gets the process started. It emphasizes the necessary evolution and shows that down is not done.

Developing Draft: Focus/Purpose

Here we step into finding and establishing focus and purpose for the piece. Often times, this will take the form of a traditional introduction, but our writing journeys often take us into different modes and forms, so I have to be flexible with this. Last quarter, many of my kids had to write a separate introduction to their pieces to provide a place for us to meet, which is the goal for all of these developing drafts, an opportunity for the feedback/response process.

Developing Draft: Organization

Here, as the name suggests, we look to discovering an effective organizational approach. Really it comes down to what form the kids are writing in. If it’s outside the the conventional intro-body-conclusion realm, I ask them to do some independent research on how their selected-genre is usually organized, and this creates a starting place for our collaborative work.

Developing Draft: Elaboration

More. This is the word that I ask kids to think of when they hear the word elaboration. More details, more evidence, more information. More.

Note: I use the word elaboration very generally here, but when kids think of “more” along with the idea of adding flesh to the bones of their organizational frame, it seems to click. Again, here, much depends on mode/form.

Due Draft

Dang out of time this morning. I will continue here tomorrow. Sorry, all.

Happy Monday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.