And just like that–a quarter of the year is gone. Vanished. But in its trail there begins to emerge stories of learning, stories of growth. A vanishing and materializing moment at once.

Time is a trick. Some days it speeds away. Other days it lingers long. But whether it’s sprinting or dragging, it’s always moving, and as it moves, it creates experiences. And, in the 180 Classroom, that is the essence we are trying to capture with our learning stories. The essence of experience.

Experience is a gift. Sometimes it’s expected. We know what we’re getting before it’s ever unwrapped. Other times it’s a surprise as things unfold and we look inside. And it is with this in mind that I am asking my kids to capture the essence of their experiences. Their successes. Their struggles. Their expectations. Their surprises. Their learning.

For midterm, I have asked my kids to write a preview of sorts for their end-of-the-term Learning Stories. I have asked them to capture the essence of their experiences in our work with theme, writing, and grammar, each a short preview of longer chapters ahead. Once they have done this, then they will self-select a grade for midterm. The goal being that they will have arrived at some wisdom from their reflection on their experiences.

In truth, this is harder for the kids than it might seem, mostly due to the fact that they have rarely, if ever, been given the opportunity, the responsibility to capture their experiences. So with this new experience, I will be patient and realistic about what they are able to capture, expecting that as they do, they will do better. That is the essence of our work.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…viewing The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“How’s the stress at work?”

“Fine. I love my job. I don’t think it’s stressful.”

“Please, I don’t know a single teacher whose adrenals aren’t screaming for help”

This was a conversation with my doc a few years ago. Her frank response to my not experiencing job-related stress was a game changer for me. Loving one’s work doesn’t mean there’s no stress. There’s plenty and more. I learned that. And as I learned, I did better. I ate better. Exercised more. Found ways to lighten my load at school. Stopped bringing work home and going in on weekends. I got better. I even took a few mental health days, which, in my younger years, I would have judged as a sign of weakness (sorry, I was young and dumb). I got better.

But even better backslides, and if we are not careful we fall back to old routines. I fell back a bit this fall. I have not taken good care of myself–nutritionally, physically, emotionally. And of late, I have begun to pay the price. Yesterday, I had nothing left in my pocket for the toll, so I decided to take a mental-health half day to reboot myself, to find myself. Sadly, though I felt better upon making the decision to go home, I also felt guilty for feeling better. What a vicious cycle, but thankfully I am connected to many wise colleagues on Twitter who told me to let go of the guilt, that self-care is health care. So I let go. Took a nap and a long walk with my dog and felt better–about everything, which was a sharp contrast to my sunken feeling of the past several days. I got better.

Today, I am better. Tomorrow I will do better. I will make myself a priority again, so I can be my best better for my students, my family, myself. We have to take care of ourselves.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…viewing “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.”

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Take care of yourselves.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“The way you can support me is just being patient I guess while I learn this at my own pace.”

This is still sitting with me this morning. One of my students wrote this in her Learning Check reflection yesterday in response to my asking, “How can I support you?”

While I learn this at my own pace. What a novel idea. On the surface this seems a simple thing, an intuitive thing, a reasonable thing–a given thing. But as we dig more deeply into this ideal notion in the context of education, we discover this too often an impossible notion, the reality of “pace” falling fall far short of the ideal. And a novel idea becomes an impossible idea.

Too much to cover. Too little time. These are oft heard reasons behind our rationale for not being able to let kids learn at their own pace. And while there is some truth to these reasons, they are content and calendar considerations, not learning considerations. Learning considers kids. Learning says all kids learn differently. Learning says all kids learn at different paces. And we know this. We do. But in the end, we largely ignore it. We have to. There is too much to cover. There is too little time. And this where the roads meet. We can cover content, or we can support kids. Can’t we do both? I don’t know. Can we? Do we? Will we? Sounds like a great idea, but I’m not convinced it works, and I think–for many reasons beyond our control–we end up leaving kids behind as we cave to the curriculum and calendar. When I finally came to the place where these two roads meet, where I could no longer pretend that “doing both” was really a viable response to two masters, I veered left and considered kids.

What have I learned? What I already knew. What we all already knew: kids learn in different ways and at different paces. And as such, kids need support. So, I serve kids. And part of my serving them is no longer playing servant to calendar and content. Oh, they’re still there–they have to be–but I bow not to them. They are constructs. I respond to the call of my kids.

“Being patient” is the call she made. And as simple as this sentiment seems, it–for me–is profoundly gratifying, for not only is she self-aware enough to express, but also comfortable and confident enough to ask for what she needs. What she needs. And I will do my best to respond, for that is when I truly feel a teacher: when I am responding to kids. And while I cannot meet all their needs all the time, I try. Over 180 days and through too many standards, I try. Of course, eventually, the curriculum and calendar end, and I am left to wonder if I did enough. Always if I supported enough. Never if I covered enough. And at the end of her year, to wherever we make it at her pace, I hope to look back and feel as if I have been supportive enough, as if I have been patient enough for her in her own journey. At her own pace.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…responding to feedback.

…writing our Learning Stories.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Short post today. Wifi was being wonky earlier. Too much on my to-do list this morning, so I’m gonna say “Happy Monday” and be done. Back to normal tomorrow.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…checking our learning with Grammar Growth (Learning Check).

…beginning to pen our midterm learning stories.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday. Have a great start to your week.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Been a whirlwind of a week. So many things spinning around , and I am feeling frazzled. Kids are, too. Writing is messy, clutter-creating, time-consuming, exhausting work, so today we are going to slow down, clear away some of the clutter, and breathe a bit. We need to get our feet on the ground.

This was our first full writing week since changing our routine (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/tinkering-with-time-project-180-day-36/). And though we have had a productive week, it has been a messy week. I tried–not sure if I succeeded–to make it less messy by providing the kids with a checklist for the week.

This approach is a survival strategy for all of us. As teachers who regularly conference with kids know, there is a need to keep the rest of the kids independently productive while we are conferencing with individual writers. I am adamant about being able to be fully engaged with the writer, so I am a bit of stickler for the other kids’ being independent and productive during this time. But, in truth, while I am engaged with one, I tend to neglect the rest, and things remain unaddressed, undone, and unanswered. Today, we will do our collective best to remedy that.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…clearing the clutter.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Payday today. Suppose we don’t get paid enough. Maybe just enough. My family and I are comfortable. Of course, we could always use more, but that’s true for all of us. Life takes money–often more than we have. But living requires something more. It goes beyond the paycheck at the end of the month. Living needs more than the promise of pay; Living needs the power of purpose. And, even though our purpose fills us, it also drains us. For teachers, our purpose is both a blessing and a curse.

First the curse. It’s for the kids. And just like that we are emotionally exploited. And our purpose is used to manipulate us as our institution and society cling to this notion that we should want to do what we do for kids. The extra hours and responsibilities are just part of our obligation, and if we dare balk, we are seen as selfish and somehow less for kids.

Next the blessing. It’s for the kids. Damn right it is. It’s all for the kids. It’s what drives us, feeds us, fills us. And when we find ourselves in the bliss of our blessing, nothing matters more than the satisfaction of helping kids. And in those moments we care not about pay, only purpose. It’s not about paying for life. It’s about living life. It’s about purpose. Yesterday, I felt blessed.

Yesterday, I–for a moment–felt a king. I felt proudly purposeful. Noble. No paycheck has ever made me feel this way. Kids have only ever made me feel this way, which is why I know “it’s for the kids.” But, noble fades, life happens, and purpose gets blurred and we live out the paradox of our purpose as we show up day after day, cursed and blessed. Of course, we do. We’re teachers. We have to. And, yes, it’s for the kids.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…using parenthesis in our writing.

…responding to feedback.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Just a smile to share this morning. Last week one of my students from last year stopped by at the end of the day, but I was in a meeting, so she said she’d catch up with me later. Yesterday, was the later.

“You ready?” she asked, walking up to my desk, a bit of twinkle in her eye.

I was sitting with a few colleagues, but I said sure. And she started singing.

“It’s a beautiful day for Smiles and Frowns…”

And I joined.

We then exchanged Smiles and Frowns.

That’s all she wanted. Just to check in and share a Smile and Frown with me.

Pretty cool that a former student can walk into a room like she belongs there, start singing a silly song in front of other adults, and lead her own “round” of Smiles and Frowns. Pretty cool, indeed. Made my day. Wanted to share.

Connections matter. Connections endure.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…writing anecdotes.

…responding to feedback.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

There’s a strange moment in the assessment of writing. It’s that place where formative becomes summative. I used to explain it to my kids as my being a coach through the process (formative) and my being a judge for the product (summative). And though I thought that sufficiently settled the strangeness between, and even if my kids accepted my teacher-speak explanation of the phenomenon, it was never not strange. I was reminded of this recently by a former student who shared a story of the strangeness that I have been a part of too many times.

“They grade hard. I asked if I needed to do anything else for the final draft, and they said, ‘No, it’s great,’ and then I got a ‘B. I don’t understand.”

I never really did either. It’s tricky. And I am not throwing any of my ELA colleagues under the bus. It’s hard to know where the line is between coaching and judging. If we help too much (is that a thing?), then we worry about tainting the grade at the end, so we tend to withhold or temper our help to prevent this from happening. And in that place, we often find ourselves facing the “good now” v. “good later” dilemma. I even remember trying to explain away the dilemma to my kids–mostly myself–with the idea of my looking through more critical lenses at the end, as if I would somehow develop a super sense for judging writing that could only happen at that time and place, away from the kid, into the grade unknown, where strange things happen to papers and teachers and ultimately students as the marking happens. The marking. The ranking. The sorting. The grading. It’s the grading.

As most know, I have left “grade unknown” for feedback. And as I have recently begun coaching my kids through their first major piece this year, and as I have been reflecting on my former student’s story, I have had a major aha. I am no longer stuck in the strangeness. Oh, I am still shaking off some of the holds of old, but I am mostly free from that place of…weirdness. Now, my helping kids is only about making it better for their audience, not a grade. My helping kids is about giving them a chance to grow by considering and responding to my feedback; it’s not about getting a grade. My helping kids is only in the now, there where we are together: writer and reader. It’s not about later where a grade appears–sometimes, seemingly, out of nowhere.

With my feedback-only approach this year, I have come to learn that two things are key. One, the summative has to be a “publishing” opportunity. The kids have to read their work to us, and/or we have to create classroom anthologies of our work. Of course, there’s more to it than that, but that’s the basic premise: kids have to publish. Two, the formative has to be a response to feedback, and more, the kids have to explain that part of their growth story. It’s not about just making changes; it’s about why and how, too.

No, these are not new ideas. In fact, I suspect many ELA classrooms strive for authentic audiences and encourage “meta-cognitive meaning making” as part of the process. These are nothing new. But for me, the “new” of being beyond grades has created a place of clarity and liberty when it comes to engaging my young writers. My interactions with them have never felt more genuine, more real, more…normal.

I still have a lot to learn out here, away from the grade unknown, but so far, I am encouraged by my discoveries as I venture deeper into the realm of feedback.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…responding to feedback.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Had our first Community Circle of the year. Normally we do it on the first Friday of each month, which is next Friday, but I switched days–for a couple of reasons. One, selfishly, I was tired, and as I looked at my long list of writing conferences ahead of me, I knew I was not in the right frame of mind to give it my all. Two, instinctively, I knew it was time to deepen our community connections. So, we did.

Community Circle is basically Smiles and Frowns on steroids. Instead of only sharing a Smile and/or Frown, we share things in response to various prompts, ranging from the candy we like to the last time we cried and all points between. Same guidelines as Smiles and Frowns, and of course kids may pass. I did Community Circle for years before I started with the daily Smiles and Frowns. In their own ways, both are powerful community building activities. With CC, I find we learn more about each other, creating stronger connections. The kids love it, many of them sharing their appreciation of going beyond Smiles and Frowns, specifically pointing to the value of more serious prompts.

And so, for roughly an hour, we learn each other–the most important “content” in the room. Daily Smiles and Frowns and a monthly Community Circle are the perfect ingredients to building and sustaining a classroom community. Two of the best things I have ever done.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar.

…the art of diary writing as narrative.

…responding to feedback.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Made a change. Listened to my son, my student teacher, and my gut, for all pointed to one truth: kids needed more time to write.

“Dad, we only get like 30 minutes twice a week.”

“When I am writing I need to focus on just that.”

“The most important work we do is writing.”

Yes. Yes. And Yes.

So, I had to find a better.

Currently, our week, mostly due to our having to share Chromebooks, consists of two days of reading and two days of writing. My writing days–my Chromebook days–are Wednesday and Thursday. And as my son, who is my class, pointed out, that’s just not enough time. He’s right. My student teacher recently engaged me about the two-day approach, saying that would be hard for her to go nearly a week before coming back to her work. She’s right. My gut reminded me that we have to put our time where are priorities are. It’s right. Something had to change.

Yesterday, I approached my grade-level and Chromebook partner about finding a better. We put our heads together, and came up with the plan to alternate weeks between reading and writing. Now we will have more sustained time and focus. We didn’t get more time; we just organized our time differently. Best way? Best is a myth, so I doubt it. Better way? Maybe. All we can do is give it a go. I feel good about it. My student teacher and colleague feel good about it. And, importantly, most of the kids feel good about it. We’ll see how it goes.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing with grammar

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.