Day Thirty Eight. Morning, all. Not feeling it today. Finding it hard to muster any inspiration. Realizing now how much of that depended on my being in the classroom with my kids. They led me to my words. But the seats are empty. And, despite my earnest search, I cannot find my kids. I cannot find my words. So, I’m gonna bow out this morning. Be back tomorrow. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Thirty Seven. Some are sweet. Some are sassy. Yesterday, I got a bit of both.

Sweet. Last night around 7:30 my son got a text from one of his friends (also one of my students), telling him to look out our front door.

He and his mom delivered these at our front step for National Teacher Appreciation Week. Thank you, Taylor. Been looking at them and smelling them since I sat down to write this morning. They are lovely.

Sassy. Yesterday, as I was responding to kids’ writing, I came across the message below, which gave me a hearty chuckle. A frequent flier when it comes to sass and sarcasm, this student has made my day so many times this year. And now, even at a distance, she delivers.

She made scroll all the way down to the next page, where she, true to form, continued bringing the sass, turning “no good options” into an option that better fit her, which I suppose was a good option in and of itself since I had given her that freedom in our earlier exchange about my inability to produce good prompts. Kid kills me.

Over the years, I have had the honor of having thousands of colorful characters enter my story, each in their way: sweet, sassy, and all shades between. Lucky guy, I.

Happy Tuesday, all. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Thirty Six. Happy Monday, all. This morning I am going to share a Twitter thread I wrote over the weekend as I reflected on my busy–sometimes inconvenient–week with kids. I have grown over the years in this regard. I have gotten better by letting go of my own personal needs for convenience. Here are some thoughts.

Kids show up as they are. And I let them in, even if they don’t have any shoes.

Hope you have a great start to the week, all. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Syrie. Syrie, bud. I got like 1 smoothie. It doesn’t last very long. And 1 smoothie and 4 assignments doesn’t add up, my guy. NGL [not gonna lie], I’m not vibin’ with ur workload. Like ur cool, but 4 assignments is not very cool. Know what I mean? Like I’m tryna make this smoothie last through ur class…”

Day Thirty Four. Got an email from a “smoothie talker” last night. There’s more to the story than what I shared above (always is), but she got my attention with her authentic appeal to my considering how much work I am giving, and how much work she is getting from all her other teachers, too. This was my response.

“As I said in the instructions, the practice is optional. And, chica, the 2 learning checks should not last more than 1 smoothie. Don’t do the practice, make an honest, no-more-than-one-smoothie attempt, and we will be all good. If that’s still too much, skip the sentence/sentence errors review learning check and do the parallel structure learning check. You know–you know–I will take what you got. You just gotta give me something. Deal?”

Too soft? Did I surrender too easily? Am I sucker for smoothies? I don’t know. Truth is, there’s a lot I don’t know during this time. I thought–I thought–I had taken painstaking steps to make sure this wasn’t too much this week, but maybe I was wrong. I don’t know. Maybe her other teachers are exceeding the prescribed limit to the workload. I don’t know (and they probably don’t either). Maybe there are “we-are-in-a-global-pandemic” circumstances at play here. I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know.

So, I will bend and blend with whatever my kids need, especially, it seems, with my smooth operators. And I will continue to meet kids in the middle we find–no middle the same, for no kid is the same. This, I know.

Happy Thursday, all. Stay safe and sane.

Day Thirty Three. Morning, all. Bit of a rough day yesterday. Just not finding a lot of joy in this distance situation. Teaching has largely become what I like the least: a transactional experience. The work is there. But it’s not the same. I am finding little joy in making transactions with kids. I need the connection, and though there are ways to connect digitally, it all comes up short compared to the connections made and enjoyed in the classroom. Yesterday, there was a notable absence.

She never showed up, and I am beginning to worry she may be absent frequently in the remaining days. Each day I will continue to call her name. Some days she may show. Other days, I will have to make do when she’s absent.

Today, I have a feeling she will try to make it. And I, too, will try to harder to find her in the places I may not have yet looked, in the places I need to remember, for she is there in much I remember. And, for now, that may have to do.

Joy, I will remember. Promise. I owe you that much.

Happy Wednesday, all. Sorry for the crazy coaster ride I’ve taken you on of late. Just making my way. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Thirty Two. Morning, all. Here’s a glimpse at our work for the week. So far, we have been alternating weeks with reading and writing tasks, but this week we decided to return to grammar for some review and some new.

As some may remember from previous posts, our approach to grammar is different. We use what I call an “exposure and experience” model. Basically, we present our work with grammar as, “You will not leave here experts, but you will leave here more experienced.” And now, with the distance, this approach seems more appropriate than ever.

Admittedly, this–and I am only showing part of the week’s task–took me too many hours to prepare. My son, who is a student in my class, asked me why I didn’t just give a link to some website instead of making the resources (and the practice and learning checks). Yes, as he suggested, it would have saved me a lot of time–a lot. But I have always felt the need to create the supports I provide for my kids, and now that I am at a distance, that personal charge carries even more weight. And just providing links seems a passive support to me. Not saying it’s wrong–may even be wise, but it just feels passive to me, so I take a more active route, which is also a longer route.

And yes, I know most kids won’t even use the resource with the same diligence I put into creating it, but that’s their commitment to carry, not mine. At the end of the day, I don’t ever want to feel like I have not carried my commitment. I want my kids to feel–even if it’s years down the road–that I supported what I expected. That’s my commitment, and yes, sometimes I carry it better than other times–I am human. And yes, I know I am not alone, not even close. Many–most–of my colleagues, near and far, carry their commitment far beyond the clock and calendar. It’s what we do. We’re teachers.

Anyway, here’s some of the work for the week. My present commitment till I know better, so I can do better.

Happy Tuesday, all. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Thirty One. Let the grading begin. A new week with new guidelines for grading in this era of what our state is calling, “Continuous Learning.” Here is a link to the state’s “Student Learning and and Grading Guidance” document (https://www.k12.wa.us/sites/default/files/public/communications/OSPI%20Student%20Learning%20and%20Grading%20Guidance_4-21-2020.pdf).

Perhaps what struck me first–and most–is the state’s call to, “Do no harm!” (an educator’s Hippocratic Oath of sorts). I was thrilled by Superintendent Reykdal’s calling attention to what I believe has long been a known but overlooked and under-addressed issue in education: the harm of “traditional” and “toxic” grading practices. But as I “celebrated” this institutional admission–this sunshine on our shadow–I experienced mixed feelings. Tweeted about it last Thursday.

And, with great earnest, I hope–I hope–we come out of this wiser to what was, so we can be better at what might yet be. I feel like this “sunlight” will be the disinfectant we have long needed to deal with what has lurked long in the shadows.

I was also struck by the announcement that no kids would fail during this time.

And the strike was closer to home than I would have liked for I had tweeted (retweeted the tweet below) at Superintendent Reykdal, asking for pass/fail to be the expectation across the board.

At the time, I did not expect the state to come out with such a plan, and I feared for the inequity of traditional grading, so in thinking that we would not shine a light on harmful practice, I figured–in this case, incorrectly–that pass/fail might be the path of least harm. In retrospect, as my friend to the North, Dana, pointed out and urged, I wish I had said pass/incomplete instead. More, I wish I had given the state the benefit of the doubt, but that doubt was deep in this regard. However, with these new guidelines, I am more hopeful than doubtful of the state’s shining a light onto some of our darker shadows, from which, I do believe, we can find our way.

Happy Monday, all. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Thirty. Guess I’m taking easy street two days in a row. Taking one of my “Spring Break” days today. But, really, all that means is I can take a few guilt-free hours out of mid-day to go on an adventure with my family. Still “working,” as it were. I have been connecting with kids and their work since 4:30 this morning, and I will end my day doing the same–after we get back from our adventure.

Earlier this week, someone on Twitter “trolled” teachers, wondering what we were all doing at home while we were still on full pay.

Haters gonna hate. And teachers gonna teach. It’s what we do. ALL THE TIME. We earn our pay. Trust me.

Happy Friday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Twenty Nine. Gonna hit the easy key and take the road less-hard today. Swamped with other things. Sorry. Hoping everyone is staying safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Twenty Eight. Morning, all. Gonna keep it short and simple this morning. Things here are fine. I have a full morning of feedback ahead of me. Proud of the work my kiddos are producing, and I plan to tell them that this morning. They, despite the disruption of distance, have really done a great job of doing their best to meet in “our middle.”

Of course, that looks a little different for each kid. I often speak, write of the middle–the between–for that is where we meet: teacher and learner. Interestingly, for some of my kids, the distance has changed where we meet. While many have maintained a consistent commitment to our “common ground,” some have moved closer than before while others have moved away–withdrawn. And I imagine for either there are things for which we simply cannot account beyond the reality of human adaptation. And as we all find ourselves adapting, we all–I imagine–are finding new middles, new places where we meet, here in the distance–learning, adapting, living.

Happy Wednesday, all. Okay, it was less simple and short than I intended. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.