Okay, all. I tried. Been sitting here patiently waiting for my muse to show up, but I guess she’s sleeping in. Been waiting for her since 4:30. Gave her 15 minutes and a cup of coffee, but she ain’t showing.

And while she’s a no-show, I have a million other things to do to get ready for my day, so I am gonna take her absence as my cue to take my energy and effort elsewhere. Dang her. She always wins at this game. But at least, she gives me someone to blame.

Sorry, everyone. She usually shows up the next day. I’ll have something for you then. See ya tomorrow.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

The devil. The details. Must be the devil, for I have never dealt with so many details in my career. Preparing online, distance-learning experiences for kids takes an incredible amount of time. And it’s the details. So many details.

Does there have to be? I don’t know. But it’s the not knowing that compels me to consider, and the worry of not doing enough drives me to do too much. In fact, I have so many more details to climb this morning, that I probably shouldn’t be here talking about the “details.”

Since before 4:00 AM, I have been working on preparing an introduction/practice experience for Claim, Cite, Clarify (CCC) that includes practice with detailed instructions and no examples, practice with detailed instructions and examples, and later I will make a Screescastify to go over the details of the differentiated details, and still, I am left wondering, worrying that I will not have done enough. As if the details weren’t enough, I have to deal with the differentiation devil, too.

It is a long short road to madness, I think. But I don’t know the way around. So I will keep dancing with the devil. In fact, my partner is calling. I have details to sort out. The dance goes on.

Happy Monday, all. I know I am not alone in this. May you find your feet as you put on your dancing shoes this morning. Thank you for all the steps you take for kids.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Missed their noise yesterday. Told them so. Asked them to make some noise for me. And they did to a degree. I am not sure they trusted my sincerity. Today, I will again make the plea. Please, make some noise for me.

A lot is different at a distance. I can’t see them. I can’t hear them. I can’t read them. Oh, they are there. Most turn their video on. All but a shy few unmute when asked (my quiet ones respond in the chat). But it’s not the same. Not even close. And yesterday I missed it. I missed them. And so I asked them to help me. I asked them to make some noise. I needed to know they were there–across the divide.

Beyond that, it’s really been a good week. I feel like we are finding our groove. No it’s not the same as it would be f2f, but we are finding “us” in all of this. We are going to be okay–as long as we turn up the volume, now and again, as we make our way.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend. See ya back here on Monday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Get a cup of water.”

This was part of our lesson plan yesterday. Some already had it at their desks with them. Others had to run to the kitchen or wherever to get something to drink…well, to hold. I held my coffee.

Then we watched this video clip.

And then we watched this video that I made on Screencastify. Well, my self-paced kiddos watched it. I just spoke it to my teacher-paced kiddos live on Zoom.

And that’s the walk for my talk. Last week, I talked a big game to kids about stress being an unwelcome guest on our journey. This week, I am trying to live up to that promise. I do, indeed, want them to “put down the class” when a lack of clarity has led to confusion, turned to frustration, and produced stress. Of course, I am not suggesting there is no value in the productive struggle–there is. But I am suggesting that when the struggle is no longer productive, it is time to reach out to me for help. I have taught long enough in the “best of situations” to know that what I think is crystal clear in terms of direction is clear as mud on the other side, and when there is a screen between and distance divides, the likelihood of a lack of clarity is greater. And I want kids to know that I bear the responsibility of making things clear for them. Yes, it is often their “fault” for various reasons (didn’t read the directions, opened the wrong document, etc.), and yes, I could put it back on them and “teach them responsibility,” but that’s not how I roll. I would rather the kids learn responsibility by acknowledging they need help and seeking it.

Is it more work? Yep. No two ways about it. But it’s my work. It’s what I am here for. It’s what I am trained for. Yes, it’s work. Yes, it’s inconvenient. But I discovered long ago, that teaching is not about convenience; it’s about service. But shouldn’t there be a limit? Yes. Absolutely. We all have limits, and right now those limits are being put to the test in ways we never imagined. But for 8 hours a day, I try to be limitless. I bend for kids. I almost break for kids, but I haven’t broken yet, and after 25 years, I don’t think I will. Because. Because, at the end of the day, I find my limits and I try to live them. No emails. No paperwork. Unless there is an emergency–and I have come to learn and live, that there are no emergencies when it comes to school, it can wait. We know this. And I strive to get my kids to understand this. Most “emergencies” are only so because of the “constructs” we have created. Deadlines can be moved. Penalties prevented. Grades changed. In truth, we can all “put down the class.” And just as we can put it down, we can pick it up. It’ll be there in the morning. In my 25, there never was a day it wasn’t waiting for me.

Happy Wednesday, all. Be safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“I’m glad I asked.”

For a teacher there is a certain satisfaction in the question asked. It conjures our craft. It is a spoken spell that animates action. It breathes into our being. And from it, we rise.

Yesterday, one of my self-paced kiddos asked a question that in the end saved her some unnecessary work. It would not have been too much, and it certainly would have done no harm, but it wasn’t necessary. And while I am glad that our interaction saved her some labor, I am more glad that we reached an early milestone of understanding in our shared journey: the power of the question.

In my experience as a teacher, it is the question that gives meaning to the serve and support aspect of teaching. If teaching is responding, then questions are necessary. Our learners have to ask questions. But, also in my experience, I have found that kids don’t ask enough questions–for various reasons. And so, without, my ability to serve and support is diminished. So, I seek the question. I invite it–enthusiastically.

And this year at a distance, I have asked for the “ask” more earnestly than ever. It is so hard to know when the screen separates. I need to know. I need them to ask questions.

Yesterday wasn’t about saving a young lady some extra effort. It was about elevating and substantiating the power and purpose of the question. She asked. I responded. We built trust. I trust that she will now ask when she needs help. And she, I believe, will trust that I will respond, that I will honor our agreement,

“Let’s agree that it’s always best to ask”

Always ask so I may always answer. I can live into that.

Happy Tuesday, all. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

And then the smoke showed up. Sheesh, it really is one challenge after another. And though I am trying to remain stoic and see such things as opportunities to find the better from the “obstacle,” this latest challenge has been a bit of a setback for me. I rely on the weekends to get outside, to get some necessary fresh air and exercise, but our having hazardous air conditions all weekend due to the numerous wildfires here in the West put a damper on my routine.

And this morning, things still haven’t changed. In fact, we are actually doing “distance learning” from home because the buildings’ air quality is unsafe for occupancy in our district. If we were in a normal school situation, school would have been cancelled today. A “smoke day.”

So, we will have to manage from home today. And we will. There are folks experiencing far more challenging things out there, but the addition of just yet another challenge to face and endure takes its toll on all of us.

Happy Monday, all. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Yesterday evening I tweeted the following.

To my longtime followers, this view is nothing new. I have been trying to change the conversation in order to change education for some time now, especially around the topic of grading. It’s why I started Project 180 five years ago when I abruptly interrupted the conventional experience in my classroom by giving all kids an “A” on the first day. And from there, both in my head and in my classroom, the conversation has never been the same.

Here is how I will continue the “grading” conversation with my kiddos this year.

Of course, the conversation is a little tougher this year with our current distance-learning model, but it’s still at the center of our work. It’s just gonna take students and parents a little longer to learn the lingo. But I am committed to the conversation that I believe has to happen to change the system. We can change the script.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I fear I feel a tremble. Slight. Subtle. But it’s there. I feel it.

I feel it in the frantic, frenetic moments of preparation before the day’s online launch, as I cross my fingers, hoping that nothing goes wrong.

I feel it from the disconnected distance across the screen, as I weigh their eyes and mouths, wondering if I am only imagining their presence.

I feel its palpable pallor as I pass my colleagues masking their mouths and misery, our common company.

I feel it in my foundation as I wake to the wind on the day’s horizon, threatening my stoic stand, sure that it’s only the “obstacle in the way.”

I feel it. I fear it.

I face it. We all do. We have to. We are teachers. What else would we do, could we do? So much depends on our steady stand as the winds swirl around our house of cards.

I feel a fear. And though I will put on my mask today for my kids, my colleagues–myself, inside I feel a fear that we may get swept away. There’s a wolf on the wind.

Sorry for the downer post this morning, all. Struggling some. Struggling more to know that my struggle is shared. And as much as I want to say and believe, “we got this,” there would be little conviction behind it this morning. So, I won’t.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Why do we make it so complicated? Seems it should be simpler. So, I am trying to make it simpler. In truth, I have been trying for some time, and this year, I am trying again to simplify that which we tend to make overly complicated: teaching and learning. Here is my latest iteration of simplification.

I will share this with my kids today as we begin our journey, as we begin our work. And as we do, I want them to understand that our work is really as simple as coming together to find better. We have a destination in mind. We are going to try to get there. I will ask them to do some things along the way, so I can support their progress. And, in the end, we will get where we get.

Overly simple? I don’t think so. In fact, I am betting on it, and it’s a bet that doesn’t really feel all that risky. We are just humans coming together to learn and grow. Seems simple enough. So it’s the path I aim to follow this year. And, of course, I will share what I learn right here.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns

…discussing how we will simplify our learning journey this year.

…reflecting on and discussing what motivates us as individuals.

…considering and critiquing others’ views on motivation.

…engaging unfamiliar words in text.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Thank you for being here.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Good morning, all. Day four but really day one since I will finally be with kids today. Well, from a distance anyway. It’s gonna be different. It’s gonna be a challenge. But, as I said in my post last week, “It’s gonna be okay.”

But, make no mistake, it’s gonna be different.

Most notably, for me, will be how we connect. As many , connections are huge part of my approach, and using platforms like Zoom will be a challenge to this essential component in the 180 classroom. It will be a challenge for me, for them, for us. But together we will face it, and daily we will get better at it. As such, here are the expectations that I put together for my kids, for our community.

They are not terribly original in sense of the “what,” and I know that. They serve the general purpose of such interactions across the expanse of Zoomland. However, I did try to frame them in a way that fit my idea for the community I long to create. As most know, I am no fan of compliance, preferring commitment from my kids, so I tried to present them in a way that created some context and comfort for my kiddos, and from there I hope we really do achieve the 4 C’s.

Community. Communication. Commitment. Connection.

That’s no different. These have always been pillars in the 180 classroom. What’s different is how we will go about creating them as we journey forth into the land of Zoom.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…meeting and greeting.

…framing our journey.

…sharing some of our story.

…learning the value of mistakes (I will model that well today, I am sure. Hey, it’s for the kids)>

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Glad you are all here. It helps to know that I will not be alone on this strange trip. Thank you.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.