If we buy into the notion (as I have) that teaching and learning are responding, then we have to consider what that means and what that looks like. I have said before and I believe it now, I most feel like I am teaching when I am responding to my kids with feedback. It’s a different feel than when I am introducing, explaining, modeling, etc., and it is most certainly a different feel than when I am grading. It’s actually that feel (grading) that sent me down this path in the first place. It never felt right. I hated playing the judge at the end, forced to resign to and rely on the restrictions of points and percentages in the grade book. So, I walked away (but that’s not this story). This story is about–supposed to be about–capturing the magic moments (they feel like magic to me) of the feedback/response process.

Okay, to the “how” of it. How are going to capture this? And then, there’s the bigger “how.” How are we going to use it? Let’s capture it first.

I don’t think it matters–as long as we capture it. And while I am sure there are better ways (there’s always a better around the bend) and I will discover those as we move forward, my plan for right now is super simple. The kids are going to copy and paste our “conversations” from the response process in a Google Doc, titled “Feedback Journal.” Right now, all of our conversations happen in the comments of their Google Documents and in Google Classroom. But going back to each and all of those will be a pain at the end of term when kids collect their experiential evidence for their Learning Stories. So, I am going to ask them to collect these “artifacts” as we discover (create) them. I have thought about the fact that this will be “away from” the original work and the conversation will lack some context in this capture, but they can always go back to the original if necessary. In addition to our Google conversations, I have begun producing feedback videos via Screencastify when I feel like a helpful human tone is in order, which is less-easy to capture in writing, or if what is needed is easier to say than to write. So we have to capture those moments, too. And we can with the link that kids can copy and paste into their journals.

Of course, this is going to work with what we are currently doing in this distance model, for we can capture it. But once we get back in person, much of my feedback is delivered verbally, so I will have to figure out that capture. I have some ideas, but I will save them for another day.

How am I going to use it? That’s the question. Well, it will certainly become a more central, intentional part of the kids’ Learning Stories. It should be the experience; it should be the evidence. But is it? And that, there, is the focus. Was it each kid’s experience? Is there evidence? How much? How effective was it? What will their analysis reveal? Those are the questions I want answers to.

And though it will remain to be seen if my plan to capture it will help produce those answers, one thing will be certain from this point on. It will have our attention. I will be more mindful than ever of the quantity and the quality of my feedback, and so–I hope–will the kids. It is this that I want to be the center of our work, this that I want our attention to seek, not how many assignments, not how many points, but how many moments we engaged in the feedback/response process. That is where I want us to spend our attention. And this is simply the first step in that direction. And as we stumble along I will just remember–as I do in all my work–the worst ahead is better.

Thank you for allowing me to work through this. I am not sure it’s going to help anyone else, but it has sure helped me in this reflective stage of my own learning. So, thank you.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Different is not an accident. It requires an intentional step away from the familiar. It’s taking what’s been done because it’s always what’s been done and turning it upside down–180 degrees. This was and has remained at the core of my Project 180 journey. I, above all, want to challenge convention, tackle tradition, and smite the status quo. It drove me then. It drives me now. And it will continue to drive me, propel me down my perpetual path. It’s who I am. It’s my “why.”

But different is messy. It’s risky. It’s untested. It’s untried. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar. It has to be. It’s different. As such, I have given my kids many helpings of different this year from the perverse idea of selecting their own grades to the responsibility of choosing–or not choosing–to read the texts I put in front of them. Different is different. The latest spoonful of different has taken the form of the Passion Paper. This is a semester-long opportunity for the kids to pursue their own paths with writing. And though we are weeks into it, the kids still seem dazed and confused. And though normally this would register as a red light, it is a different signal, a sign that things are going according to plan. It is a green light on the road to different.

There is no rubric. There is no set length. There is no grade. There is no model. There is no expectation for completion.

But…

There is choice. The kids can write anything they want. There is accountability. The kids have to “publish” their writing (see below). There is freedom. Kids have an opportunity to have an authentic experience as a writer, as a creator, unencumbered by the constraints of traditional, in-school writing experiences. There is support. The kids have the opportunity to get feedback from me. Some have conferred with me a great deal. Many have not conferred with me at all. I am most excited for the writing that I have not seen.

I want my kids to think of themselves as writers, not just writing-task finishers. To that end, we talk the talk. Everyday, we end our time together with our Mindset Mantra, which includes the line, “We are writers.” But we have to do more than talk. We have to walk. And to walk we have to have a path. That is why we are doing the Passion Paper. I want my kids to walk forward with writing, to venture into possibility, to dare the different. And for that to happen, I have to dish up different.  A heaping spoonful of intention. No accident.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…work on Passion Papers.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy, Tuesday, all. Dare different.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

It’s there. But it’s hidden. We taught them to hide it. It no longer fit, so we made them put it away. It gave way to things more serious, things more conventional, things more traditional, things…well, more academic. And so, they tucked it away. And by the time they reach us in high school, it’s almost as if it never existed. We no longer ask for it. They haven’t used it for years. But it’s there. And if we give them the opportunity, it can be found; it can be used; it can be saved. Kids have a world in them. People have a world in them. But we make them trade it in for a world that’s designed to fit all, and in the end, it fits no one. And so the world within gets tucked away to make room for the world without. But the world within is there, a world of wonder, a world of imagination, a world of wisdom. It is not gone; it is only hidden, lost. But that which is lost need only be found.

She’s a quiet kid. A hidden kid. A lost-in-the-system kid. But lost is found, for she broke free from the bonds, and she reminded me of the worlds that exist within, and she is lost no more.

Sitting in my truck in the tiny town of Harrington, Washington waiting for my son to get done with piano practice, reading my students’ narrative essays, I discovered Evette’s world within. I have found her, and what I found rocked my world. Below is her conclusion to her experience of losing a friend to suicide in middle school.

“Even though I can’t go back to that tree physically, I return to it every day mentally…” And the world within emerges. And Evette’s world is but one of the many into which I have been invited. But that invitation requires opportunity, an opportunity to share, an opportunity for one to find her voice, for one to share her voice. Evette will never again be the quiet girl in the corner who diligently does her work. She is a giant and I can’t wait to share with her this morning that I hear her, that I see her. I see her, and she was in front of me all along. I just had to open my eyes.

Each day in 211 as part of our mindset mantra we say, “We are writers.” Each day we say it. Each day we hear it. And I like to think that each day, we are closer to believing it. But believing it means that we have to give kids opportunities to rediscover their voices that have been drowned out by the noise of the factory model that churns out writing but does little to nurture the writers. I am seeking to change that, and in her reflection, Evette demonstrated that she is growing accustomed to a world that focuses on the writer, not just the writing.

I could not have scripted it better. And I am heartened that, like Evette, many of my kids are making the same discovery. We are all making discoveries. Of course, they are not entirely new; many are simply a result of the opportunity to open our eyes, which has allowed us to see or remember what’s been there all along.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…continue drafting descriptions.

…reflect in our Journey Journals.

…end with Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

 

 

 

 

Today marks our first formal learning check, our first pause on the trail. The kids will complete their first Learning Logs of the year (see below). These are biweekly “progress reports” that the kids generate. Of course, we are farther down the trail than two weeks, but for this first one, I wanted to make sure there was enough in “the books” for kids to draw from. They will take their Logs home over the weekend to share with parents, returning them signed on Monday.

 

In addition to this, we will send home a letter to parents explaining our oversight with Skyward and our response to the issue. And, again, though it is not our ideal solution, we feel it is our best right-now response. As with everything we do, we will seek to learn and do better as we make our way down the trail.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…complete Learning Logs.

…read our personal reading books once Learning Logs are complete. 

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

This post will be more practical than inspirational. It represents my latest “Do” in the 180 classroom, which means as I move forward with it, I will no doubt “Reflect,” which then, of course,  means I will eventually–hopefully–“Do Better.” The gist of the 180 approach.

Today, I am sharing the current manifestation of how I will seek to consistently report progress to parents this year. My students will complete and share Learning Logs with their parents every two weeks. I have also included the documents that led to this current creation. I will offer brief commentary for each below.

Learning Log

I will share this document every other Friday with my kids through Google Classroom. They will then have time in class to complete it and print it off. I have them complete it in class for two reasons. First, it’s important, so I feel I have the obligation to make “real time” for that which I deem important. Second, I am available to help kids if necessary as they work through the different sections of the Log.

 

Grading Policies

Here are the grading (gradeless) policies that we are using for all tenth-grade ELA classes at Cheney High School. I have shared them before, but I am sharing them again to help add some context and clarity for some of the things mentioned in the Logs.

Standards

We offer “three-levels of articulation” for our standards. We begin with the Common Core State Standards, which we then translate into classroom Focus Standards. As mentioned above, we distinguish some of those as “*Must-Meet Standards.” Finally, we present Learning Targets (see below) which really become the criteria for meeting the Focus Standards, though they too are generally broken down even further into single-point rubrics, so we can give even more specific guidance and feedback to our kids.

As always, please feel free to use/and or adapt. If you need me to share access to docs, please DM through Twitter @MonteSyrie. Hope you found some value in today’s post.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“The strongest teacher-writer relationships I have experienced and studied begin with the writers themselves, with the teachers discovering and developing the writer’s identity. Let the students get the message that they possess untapped potential in learning writing. And through that belief, one of a growth mindset, every day is an opportunity for growth. Let me define what I mean by “writer’s identity.” To me, it’s a self-concept a student has, that is comprised of current skills, curiosities, insecurities, memories, and experiences as a writer. Much like a snail carries its shell on its back, a writer has inside a shell full of interests, talents, particular likes, and dreams–and it’s our job to discover and enhance them throughout the year.”

–Patty McGee, Feedback That Moves Writers Forward, p. 53

In my recent Reality’s Reflection post  Learning is a Story I made mention of my using reading and writing stories to set the stage with my kids as a means for them to consider, discover,  and share their reading and writing identities. Since then, a number of people have inquired about the stories, seeking more information about how I use them in my classroom. And since then, I was lucky enough to come into contact with Patty McGee with whom I recently co-moderated a #TG2Chat, Now’s the Time to Save the Humanities. This contact prompted me to buy her book, Feedback That Moves Writers Forward, from where I lifted the above passage, which poignantly articulates the importance of discovering our writers’  identities.

Not only does this passage mirror the purpose I have sought to achieve with my reading and writing stories, but also it carries implications beyond the writing classroom. I believe that “writer” can be exchanged with “learner,” and that “writing” can be exchanged with any subject. “Let the students get the message that they possess untapped potential in learning…[any subject].” And that message, that belief begins with helping our students discover and develop their learning identities. Below is how I will use reading and writing stories to begin that process of discovery in my classroom this year.

Reading and Writing Stories: Mining Identity

In an attempt to be novel, I created what I have come to call, Twitterviews. I will use these to prompt my kids to begin digging into–mining–their reading and writing identities. I will share these documents with them through Google Classroom.

Reading and Writing Stories: Sharing Identity

My kids keep a Journey Journal. These stories will be their first entries. They, though I don’t tell the kids this, will also be their last entries. That is, we will update their stories at the end of the year. My hope is that from their experiences in my classroom this year, they will be able to add rich content to their stories. I use the document below to get my students started. I realize the introductory frame may be a bit over the top, but it is a true reflection of who I am and how I communicate with my kids.

Our work begins with knowing our kids. The kids’ work begins with knowing themselves. We, I believe, have not only the power but also the responsibility to make that a reality in our classrooms, regardless what we teach.

I hope you found some value in my post. Please feel free to use and/or modify to make it fit you and your classroom.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

DO

I recently began my planning for the year by creating the document below. I wanted to organize my thinking so I began putting stuff in tables trying to capture both the focus and routine of my desired culture. I am an “ideas” guy, and if I don’t get them down in some kind of format, my ideas sometimes don’t become my realities. What’s more, if I don’t have a schedule and routine, my ADD becomes problematic as newer and shinier ideas pop into my head, and I get lost, bouncing here and there. And while I like the responsive flexibility that this problem presents, it can make for a bumpy ride for my kids as I am prone to wandering around a bit. So, in an effort to do better this year, I am trying to contain my energy and ideas into a focus-and-routine approach. It is my current “do.”

And as we do, we reflect, and as we reflect, we seek to do even better. This morning, I made some minor changes. I will share why in the “reflect” below.

Reflect

“…we need our writers to have a positive writing identity to truly reach their greatest potential as writers.”

“I have come to believe that yes, developing nurturing writing environments is critical, but that we must start with the writer, each writer, and build the collective ‘we’ from there.”

–Patty McGee, Feedback That Moves Writers Forward

And then, we read a book, and our world changes. Two days ago, I received and began reading Patty McGee’s book Feedback That Moves Writers Forward. It was already on my to-read radar from the TG2Reads  post and promotion, but then I learned I would be co-moderating this week’s #TG2Chat with her, so I rushed it to the front of the line. Thank goodness for Amazon Prime.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, the above quotes caught my attention, and I began thinking about environment. I want my kids to consider themselves as writers; I always have, but I just haven’t always done a great job of creating the necessary context and conditions for this to occur. I have changed names in the past: writer’s notebook instead of writing notebook. I have also used “writer’s workshop,” tracing all the way back to Atwell and her work that I learned about in college. But my efforts have always really been experimental dabbles, not resulting in my desired outcome: that kids view themselves as writers.

So this year I set out to make writing an even greater priority, seeking to give my kids ample opportunities to work through various modes so they can develop the craft of writing. I even carved out two days per week, planning to schedule conferences each week, so I could consistently meet with my kids and conference with them about their writing. The list goes on. I am a huge believer in the necessity and power of feedback, a belief that was further cemented from my Project 180 experience last year when I took grades completely off the table and came to rely on all that was left, all that mattered: feedback. In short, we were going to be writers this year. But I found a flaw in my plan. After reading from Patty’s book, I started wondering about my plan when I was watching Star Trek Voyager last night, and I wondered what I had written for the “focus” in my planning document. Had I written, writing or writer’s workshop? Surely, I had written the latter. I would check in the morning. I checked. I was wrong. I had written “writing.” And I am not sure why. I know better. So, I reflected. And I did better.

Do Better

As you can see in the document above, I struck through the former titles of writing and reading workshop, etc. I was simply going to change to “writer’s” and “reader’s” but I got stuck on workshop. What did I mean by workshop? Why workshop? What was I really trying to communicate through my title? And, as I reflected, I discovered that what I wanted most was for my kids to believe they are writers. A firm believer and practitioner in mantras, I changed the titles to what fits my purpose and my culture best. Mondays and Tuesdays are no longer “Writing Workshop” days. They are “We Are Writers” days. I believe in the power of mantras on mindset. I believe that if we hear, we say it, we come to believe it. The “writer” is there the “work” is implicit, but I also want the “belief” to be there. So I, we, will refer to our to ourselves and our work in this manner.  We will become what we see, hear, and believe. We will become writers.

Do. Reflect. Do better.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. During my Project 180 journey last year, I made a lot of discoveries. The most important discovery was that kids will do and can learn when grades are taken off the table. But I made another important discovery as well, one that has become my mantra, my guide for the endless journey that still lies ahead.  Of course, at any stage of any journey–personal or professional–we can only do our best at that given moment. But, importantly, “best” should not be a destination. It is simply a path to our next better. And to get started down that path, we must reflect on our moment, on our best, and take our first step towards better, which then becomes our “better best” when we encounter similar situations down the road. Of course, I was aware of and made use of the power of reflection prior to my 180 journey last year, but it was during this time of exploring this radical new realm, that I came to rely heavily upon my mantra as I sought to make learning experiences more meaningful for my kids. I tried. I struggled. I failed. I succeeded. I learned. In short, I did; I reflected; and I did better. It was all I could do.

This coming year will really be no different. I will employ my “better bests” as I make my way, reflecting on the moments, taking those first steps towards my next betters. But, this year won’t be the exactly the same either. I have a year of learning under my belt from my explorations in the gradeless realm, and I am poised to share some of my discoveries.  And so, I am going to share from what I have begun to call the P-180 plan, the do-reflect-do better approach to teaching.  But I do not share from a position of this is “the” approach. That would suggest “best,” and I don’t believe in best. I believe in better, and if my betters can help others find theirs, then my journey will be worthwhile.

And so, with you, I will share. Please use if you find some value in my discoveries, and as always, please adapt to your needs. My betters can’t be your betters. It has to fit you. Feel free to make it fit.

P-180 Plan: Parent Contact

Do

I wanted a simple way to make consistent contact with parents to communicate praise and/or concern for their children’s progress in my class. With a 150 students this was not easy to manage, and adding one more thing to my plate did not seem possible. Still, I felt strongly about the importance of connecting with parents, so I made it happen. This is what I did.

• I created an email template like the one below. I did a boy one and a girl one. I started with just one template, but after a few mistakes with pronouns, I created one for each. I did not have one for my transgender kids, but I  asked them what their pronoun preference was, and I adjusted accordingly.

Good morning. I have ______________________ in my language arts class. I wanted to pass along how much I enjoy having her in class. (Insert personalized praise or concern message). I believe parents and teachers have to be partners, and I believe that partnership begins with communication, so please feel free to contact me at any time with any questions or concerns you may have. Thank you.

• I committed to two emails per day. One boy and one girl. I know this does not seem like enough, but I could commit to this. For the first few minutes of my planning period, I wrote and sent the emails. Obviously, the two-per-day approach will never result in my reaching all my parents over the course of the year, but it was an intentional effort on my part to consistently make contact with parents. As you all know, we can only do so much.
• The majority of my emails were focused on praise. Parents get so little positive information from school that I wanted to make these primarily positive, relating things like kids scoring well on a test, having an awesome attitude, or making a kind gesture. Other emails focused on concerns.
• To spread it across my five classes, I used a rotating schedule. I would select from second period one day, third period the next, and so on. I would repeat this over the course of the year.
• To keep track of which students’ parents I contacted, I kept a list of names with the date and a code (P for praise, C for concern).

Reflect

Overall, I was pleased with the approach. I received many positive comments back from parents, and I was able to emphasize the desired praise-and-concern-related items from my classroom. I was mostly able to keep my commitment of two per day, though there were times when the immediate trumped the important, and I would miss a day here and there. Still, generally speaking,  it was a success. However, one thing left me a little unsettled.

I didn’t always like how it felt. That is, though I tried to perceive it as something I was doing “for” my kids, it sometimes felt like it was something I was doing “to” my kids. Yes, I connected with parents through the approach. That was the goal. But I felt like something was missing. And now, looking back, I believe it was the kid. I was tossing a line across the gap that connected me to the parent, but I was not building any bridges; I was not connecting. The kid is the bridge. It is she who brought us into contact, and it is through her that we can make the connection, build the bridge. So this year, I will do it differently. This is how I will do it.

Do Better

• First, I will change the name, “Parent Connection” instead of Parent Contact
• Then–and this is the big change here–I am going to bring the kids on board. I am not going to do it “to” them or “for” them; I am going to do it “with” them. Instead of deciding what I am going to tell Jill’s parents, I am going to ask Jill what we are going to tell her parents. Oh, I will still send the email, and it will still be on a template, but the personalized message will be co-created by the student and me. It will be a negotiation. I will give my two cents, but I want Jill’s two pennies in there as well. This also creates the opportunity for dialogue between Jill and me regarding her progress in class.
• Logistically, I will have to make some changes in how I select kids. I will have to know the day before, so I can ask each kid what message we are going to send home. This will be a challenge for me to remember to do it every single day, so I am going to make it a public component of our classroom community, which means I will have to make it an active part of our culture, not the passive part it’s been. So, I will sell it. And, as part of that sell, I will introduce that on one select day per week (five classes, each will get one of the days) we will randomly pick two kids for Parent Connections. I will do this right after our Smiles and Frowns entry task each day, so the selected kids will have some time to think about it. Then, near the end of the period, I will have a quick conversation with each. I will also have to have some way of recording it, so I don’t forget when I go to write the email the next day. I suspect I will probably just keep a document on my computer and I will quickly type myself a quick note next to the student’s name as we discuss the content of the message.

I don’t want this to be a scary thing. My goal here is not “to get” kids. My goal here is to build connections. I don’t want my kids to perceive this as, “Oooh, Syrie’s emailing Jill’s parents.” I want it to be, “Cool, Syrie’s emailing Jill’s parents.” I want all my kids to see that connecting with parents can be both a positive and productive part of their learning experience. And this approach will be one of my first steps towards my next better in that regard.

Do. Reflect. Do better.