“What is the difference between a teacher and an educator?”

-Nell Bielecki, MS Science Teacher, Michigan

Hmmm. Great question, Nell, about what–at times–might be a tricky, sticky topic.

On the surface, it’s simple. A teacher is in the classroom. An educator is in the profession (or anywhere not in the classroom).

But in my experience with this distinction, there is often more at play than what’s on the surface. There is a “versus,” a need to make a distinction of what is a teacher and why that matters. 

Teachers matter. Much suggests they matter most–both empirically and anecdotally. Teachers matter. But they don’t matter alone. Enter the educator, the supporting cast without whom teachers could not fully function. From administrators to counselors to paras to subs (to the list goes on), they all serve and support kids. Kids: our common ground. Each makes an impact. Each matters. So, why, then, the distinction? Aren’t we all teachers? No, we’re not. We’re all educators. But we are not all teachers. There is a distinction.

Proximity. Teachers are those closest to kids. We have an opportunity unlike any. Connection. That’s the distinction that matters. Teachers are connected to kids.

~sy 

“Given the assumption of the school year/month/week/day, what degree of mastery is expected of so many standards? “(https://www.k12.wa.us/student-success/learning-standards-instructional-materials)

-Anonymous, Washington

Mastery.

Interesting word. 

We use it like it means something. Everything.

And so, it seems a noble goal. Why would we want any less from ourselves for our students?

If we aren’t making masters, then what are we making?

Well, first, we ain’t making anything. 

And second, “masters.” What does that even mean? 

No, seriously. 

Mastery. Do we really mean kids have mastered something? Forever? They’ve arrived, and they now have at their immediate disposal the necessary (blackbelt) knowledge and skills to kick academic ass? 

To wit, the kid who got an A on the test on Friday (demonstrating mastery of targeted standards) but cannot produce the same results on Monday. Mastery? Or mystery?

How does this (and it does) happen? Maybe it’s more mystery than mastery.

Maybe mastery’s a myth. 

When does one master teaching? One doesn’t.

So how do we get kids to master (way) too many standards?

We prioritize (priority standards).

And then we prioritize our priorities. 

And soon we know not where things begin or end.

So, we then do what we must.

We prioritize growth.

~sy

“Why don’t more questions get asked about the practice of teaching? Such as: is there a better way? Such as: does it work/is it effective/does it transfer to learning?”

-Brendan Gill, Teacher, California

Thank you for posing this important question, Brendan. 

Yes, there should be more questions about our practice. And I think the first question should be, “What is Teaching?”

Is it talking?

Is it assigning?

Is it grading?

Is it managing?

Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes.

But also, no. 

No, that’s not enough…for learning.

For learning, there is more. There has to be more. We know this. But we, for various reasons (many of which are not ours alone), avoid this. ‘Cause there where we’d find it is messy: the inbetween, the messy middle where we meet kids–really where we meet ourselves, where we, I believe, define teaching. 

Learning defines teaching. So, learners define teachers. And that happens in a place we don’t get to often enough in our practice: the feedback-response process (FRP).

Teaching is responding. Yes, we have to talk. Yes, we have to assign. Yes, we have to grade. Yes, we have to manage. But bigger YES, we have to respond. I tell my kids that I have not taught until I’ve responded to their work with feedback.

~sy

“Mandated curriculum and state standards aside, what content area knowledge is most valuable in a high school ELA classroom?“

-Anonymous

Most.

I don’t love superlatives. It’s why I choose better to best. I prefer ways over ends, and words like most and best seem to suggest ends. So, I avoid them. But, here we are, and since you asked, I will do my best better to respond.

To be fair, it’s a question worth asking, and I suppose it gets asked a lot, for we–at all levels of education–seem to want to have some clarity on such things. So we ask. And ask. And ask. And while an ask wants an answer, I am not sure we’ve found or will ever fully find the answer, for who decides definitively? And when we throw the words “most valuable” in the mix, a well-intended ask becomes a veritably impossible task. 

And it becomes more messy when we confront the question, “Content or skills?” In my experience, the conversation often turns to content, and if we, as we are here, take the “state” out of it, then it becomes what do we read?

Most valuable, then?

Whatever the kids choose.

Choice = most value.

~sy

“As a math teacher, I am responsible for making placement recommendations for my students’ next math classes. I struggle between knowing that these placements can cause math anxiety and feelings of being “not smart enough,” but I also know that certain students are ready for these classes that offer more depth and challenges. I guess my question is: how do we make sure all students are getting what they need academically while also making sure other students aren’t feeling “othered” or left behind? Of course, if all teaching programs included courses on differentiation, this would be less of a struggle.”

-Math Teacher, Ohio

First, a turn to a thought in better.

“It is not my job to create win-lose situations in the classroom. That’s an unintended consequence of a system that lost sight–I believe–of its original noble goal: educate our youth.” –from better: A Teacher’s Journey (p. 343)

Next, an honest–but vexing–admission to your important question: We don’t.

We don’t avoid such things, as long…

As long as we continue our obligatory obedience to the institutional insistence that we rank, sort, and label kids.

I know that’s not the answer you wanted. Trust me, it’s not the answer I wanted to give, especially given my “saber-rattling” response in the opening.

So, is it just bluster, then? 

Not necessarily, for I am speaking of something beyond the job. I am speaking of a sacred charge to help humans. And for that, we may, indeed, need to dare different and brave better.

Maybe instead of taking math to take more math, kids should take math to experience math for the sake of learning math.

Someday, maybe, we’ll see that learning (any content) is an experience.

~sy

What’s one interesting way you’ve seen a teacher use ChatGPT to support students?

-Andy Smith, Computer Science Teacher, Vermont

Well, damn, Andy. You just had to call me out, didn’t ya? First Daily 180! question, and I have no idea how to answer it. Well, that’s not exactly true, but it’s true enough insofar that of AI I am inexcusably ignorant. So, now that I have been exposed, in truth, I have not seen–at least firsthand–an interesting way a teacher has used ChatGPT to support students…yet (I will employ a growth mindset).

My ignorance is inexcusable. AI is everywhere, and ChatGPT’s been buzzing of late in the eduverse, but I haven’t stopped long enough to listen and learn. So, such a position requires action, else one’s ignorance goes beyond inexcusable. 

My first action? A visit to my friends at Codebreaker to check out Byte.

In literal seconds, it had created an argumentative essay rubric and plot chart. And, just like that, I have been bitten by the buzz to be better, as I’ve begun to imagine ways my students and I might use this. 

Thank you for the nudge with this very first question, Andy.

I learned. I’m better.

~sy

Welcome to the Daily 180! With Project 180 literally in the book(s), I am itching for something new to do, so I have created a new project for myself and my old friends 180 and better.

The Daily 180 will be a daily Q and A post where readers pose questions and I respond in exactly 180 words, creating a conversation of sorts for others to read on the daily.

Readers will post their questions here on Daily 180 Question Queue.

I am not sure if this will take off or go anywhere, but I want to give it a go. Would love to have you along for the ride. Better happens together.