Had our first snow day of the year yesterday. In early October!
No way. Not October. Too early. Though we did get our first real snow on September 26th this year, so maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise. Either way, I had the day off yesterday.
Once upon a time, I would have gone into school to get less-behind, but I have learned to take better care of myself, so I just enjoyed my day yesterday, making a big breakfast for my family, hiking with my dog Daisy, taking a long nap, and finally climbing two trees.
But, sadly, yesterday was borrowed time, for we will have to make it up in June. But, I will worry about that then. For now I will just worry about today’s plan which will be yesterday’s plan, and that’s why I am calling it Day 25 again.
Every day we write the story. Every day we add lines, pages, verses, and chapters. You do. I do. We do. We are the human experience. And though our days are different, our stories are often the same as we find ourselves in others and they find themselves in us. We are human. We are the story.
Our work so far this year has let us listen in on others’ stories. From Calvin’s Snowflake to the young boy without a pencil to Ms G. and her Freedom Writers, we have heard stories from the human experience. Now, you will have a chance to add your words, your story to our story. The human story.
Inspired by our work with the movie Freedom Writers, we are beginning our own project today, which we are going to call, “Wisdom Writers.”
Above is the introduction/overview I will share with the kids today as we begin our work. I want to compel them to believe that their stories matter, that their stories have a place. As I have learned from my twenty-four years in the classroom, kids have real experiences, kids have real wisdom, and I want them to capture and share that wisdom.
Though this is an entirely new path and we are still seeking the best routes as we journey forth, I am excited by the possibilities of Project Wisdom Writers. Here’s the introduction to the project.
This is the planned route for the next two days. We’ll see how it goes. As always, if things are not working as planned, we’ll find a better way to do it. I can’t wait for the kids to share their wise words with the world.
Twenty three days in and not a single point or letter has been exchanged between my kids and me. Only feedback.
That’s the “different I dared” this year. I have long believed and others have previously proven that feedback, not numbers or letters, support learning. But to get here, where my long-held beliefs are becoming my long-desired reality, I had to get beyond grading. And that has been a long journey of trial and error. And though my journey is far from over, I believe I have found a sweet spot between what is and what could be. I have discovered different. And it’s working.
Yesterday, as I was giving kids feedback on our latest Learning Check, I felt a feeling. I had a moment. And while, yesterday, I couldn’t put a finger on exactly what I felt, today, I think I can name it freedom. There’s something liberating about moving beyond the pretense of grades and engaging in the honesty of feedback. Situated in the context of a learner’s work, success criteria, and a teacher’s assessment, feedback comes to life. It gives life. It feeds the learning. And, it feels right. It feels good. It’s simple. It’s supportive. It’s…well, super. I have had a few “this-feels-right” moments over the past three years with Project 180, but nothing has quite matched where I find myself right now: liberated, free and full of energy to work with my kids.
Have I arrived, then? Of course not. And I would hope those who’ve been with me on this journey for some time now, would never expect or accept such a pronouncement from me. Chasing better has no ends, but there are a few betters along the way that prompt a brief pause, so one can enjoy the moment. And for the moment, I am going to enjoy this moment.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…analyzing character.
…creating interview questions.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Tuesday, all.
Do. Reflect. And Pause to Enjoy the Better Sometimes.
Tired. Slept late (if 4:14 is late). Not much in my head this morning. Coffee is slow to charge. Gonna be one of those mornings maybe.
Thought I would share something one of my connections on Twitter, Jakob Gowell, brought to my attention about activities like Smiles and Frowns. It’s from The Journal of Experimental Education.
Though I have always found my leanings and sentiments towards Smiles and Frowns more humanitarian than “scientific,” it is nice to see some academic support for that which is at the center of my work. Not that I needed it to know. I know every day. The resulting “empathic concern rather than anxiety, envy, or rivalry” has been exactly my experience with Smiles and Frowns as barriers are broken and connections are created. It’s why I do what I do. In principle. In practice. In spirit. Thank you for seeing my spirit, Jakob.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…checking our learning with identifying, stating, and support themes from the Freedom Writers Diary.
…publishing our cross-sections.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Thursday, all. Last post for the week. No school tomorrow. For us it’s a Professional Learning Day in our district. Back here Monday. Have a great weekend.
Some days, I feel the fool. Some days, I wonder what ever possessed me to start class with a silly song. It must look silly, a nearly forty-eight-year-old man leading high school sophomores in a Mr. Rogers’ inspired song about Smiles and Frowns. Some days, I wonder what the kidsreally think as I don my sweater and start into song. And then I wonder what they think about themselves as they join in, and we sing the silly song together.
A introvert to the core, things such as this have always surprised me in my career. At any other time, in any other place, I would never do such things, preferring to melt into corners. But the classroom. The classroom is different for me. No introversion. Few inhibitions. And as such, silly things occur, and later when I’ve melted into my chair at home, I wonder about such silly things, and I feel the fool, knowing all the while, that despite my feelings of foolishness, I will be back at it tomorrow, playing the fool.
I suspect some from the outside see me the same. And not only for silly songs, but also for my approach to teaching and learning. I imagine they find me too trusting, too flexible, thinking the kids have one over on me as I daily experiment with different to find better ways to reach my kids. So, am I the fool? I don’t know.
In truth, sometimes, “less-foolish” ways appeal to me, and days of yore call me back to a time when there were no silly songs, messages, and rhymes to sustain, days when I could call upon the “power” of grades to get kids in line, but if I listen long enough, I find I no longer fit such clothes. I am far more comfortable in what must seem a motley garb, as I a play the motley fool.
Rough weekend for me. We had our first snow of the season–in September!
And as the stunning storm swirled around the outside, a troubling tempest taunted me on the inside.
I have carried my storm for sometime now. Maybe longer than I think. And whether it was the weather this weekend that found me down and brought it out, or if it was just time, or if I finally found the words for my storm, it came out in the tweets below.
Of course, I don’t really think I am damaging kids. And, I am not leaving teaching anytime soon. But. But there is a storm. And for now, it’s under control. For now, I will stay the course–for kids. For now, I will continue my work, seeking better. For now.
And maybe that’s my worry. My “now” is on the short end as I’ve passed the midpoint in my career. Is it disappointment I feel? Desperation? Never the most patient guy in the room, maybe I am harboring worries of there’s too much work and too little time. I don’t know. Regardless, I will put on my skies-are-clear countenance and show up for my kids today. They will settle my storm. They always do.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…capturing and revealing theme in our own experiences.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Monday, all. Sorry for being a “downer” this morning.
800. Hard to believe this is my 800th post to my blog. Never–never–thought I’d take it this far when I started this whole thing in response to a challenge by one of my students back in December of 2015. And as I look and think back on my very first post (see below), I realize that while my approach has changed a bit, my desire to change education is as strong as when I took that first, tentative step nearly four years ago.
So have I helped change education? I don’t know. I have changed–dramatically, but I can’t speak beyond the four walls of my room. I have shared a lot of words (roughly 400,000) and some have listened, and I think I have been of some influence, but it’s hard to know if I have actually changed anything. Regardless, the transformation I have experienced in myself as a teacher, as a human is worth the daily, early morning habit I have developed, and that alone is enough to keep me going on my journey to share my classroom and my thinking with the outside world. Maybe in the end all we can really change is ourselves. And as I stand at this moment and look inside, I am pleased with whom I’ve become as a teacher, finding myself a far better steward of my charge to support our youth in their own journeys.
As for my own journey, I am getting better, one step at a time. Might be all that matters.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…connecting with Freedom Writers via student-led discussion.
…identifying and stating themes for Common’s song “Dream.”
…reflecting in Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Friday, all. Thank you for being here with me. And a special thank you to those who have been with me since that very first step. Couldn’t do it without you.
Test today. For me. For my approach. For teaching. For learning.
I am going to hand back my first round of feedback on a Learning Check. No points. No letters. Only feedback.
And that will be the test. For the kids will wonder. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it right? Is it wrong? And I will respond. No. No. No. And No.
Well, actually, I will tell them it’s not about good, bad, right, or wrong; it’s just about better. I believe learning is moving beyond the narrow ideas of good, bad, right, and wrong. And it is this that I will seek to instill in my kids as we journey forward together in our learning this year.
But still, they will wonder. Is it good? And why wouldn’t they? That’s been their conditioning for the past ten years. And though I suppose it is human of us to wonder such things, much of our compulsion here has been ingrained from our good-bad, right-wrong experiences in education. Such a shift won’t happen overnight. For some it may not happen at all at this late stage of the game. But with just under three years left in their public ed experience and with now fewer than 163 days left in our year, I will try to get my kids to see beyond good.
Seems simple enough. I give the kids a task with criteria for success. They do. I provide feedback grounded in the criteria. I ask them to respond to the feedback and the interventions I deliver. I reassess. The cycle continues as necessary. Simple.
Well, yes and no. The process is simple. But the people are complex. Yes, the people. The little humans in my charge. They sit on the other side of my feedback where they bring their egos, their emotions, their insecurities…their humanity. And it is this of which I am keenly aware as I write and deliver their feedback. It is a delicate thing, especially here on the fringe where I offer no right, wrong, good, or bad. For some of my kids, it will be liberating. For others, it will be frustrating. And for that I am sorry, and I will tell them so. It is not my goal to frustrate. It is my sole goal to help them find their better. As such, it will take some time for kids to accept my response to their “queries of quality,” which will be. “It can be better.”
So, there is no “good” in room 206? Well, yes, but I am going to call it success. “You succeeded. You met all the success criteria for this, and you are now ready for the next.” And together, we will keep chasing better.
Admittedly, I am a little anxious for today’s “test,” My own ego, emotions, insecurities–humanity–will be in the room as take this first step “beyond good.” Thankfully, I am accompanied by my friends Do, Reflect, and Do Better. They will see me through. They always do. The worst that could happen is that I will learn. I will learn.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…responding to feedback.
…extending our thinking with Theme using “And, So?”
Morning, all. Short post today. I had to finish writing a piece for a colleague who is publishing a book. So that took the bulk of my time this morning.
Wanted to share that Smiles and Frowns is off to a great start. Kids are connecting and community is building. For the last two days in sixth period, the kids have decided one of them needs to “host” Smiles and Frowns, so they kicked me out of my seat and took the lead. Only fifteen days in, and they have already made me unnecessary. Fortunately, they are still letting me participate. Kids. The best humans. I am blessed to be among them.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…growing with grammar.
…finishing Freedom Writers.
…discovering ideas for our Reality Writers project.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Wednesday, all. Sorry for the lame post this morning. I will do better tomorrow.
This is my go-to response when kids make mistakes in my classroom. As long as they have not hurt themselves or someone else, there is little that’s going to call for critical action on my part.
The kids call it “chill.” My class is chill. I am chill. And they are not wrong. I am. On purpose. I chill, so they can chill. Stress is not healthy–for any of us. And stress–I believe–is not necessary in the classroom. Stress in the classroom is largely a construct, and we are the architects. We choose what we build, and I choose to chill.
Of course, it took me awhile to warm up to the notion that I am chill, for I thought it meant easy. But the kids assured me otherwise.
“You just understand. You don’t freak out about things. You’re, you know, chill.
So, though I imagine some adults may think my approach too lax, I have come to accept the term from they who matter: my kids. Yesterday, in our first round of “My Room” feedback cards, the kids again highlighted that they appreciate my “chill” and the lack or absence of stress in my room. And, in this, they offered music to my ears. I strive diligently–from the way I build relationships to the way I support learning–to create a less-stress classroom.
So, I am easy? I don’t think so. And for those who harbor doubt, I would eagerly and sincerely invite them to my room to judge for themselves. I don’t think they would find easy. I think they would find chill. I choose chill. Not because it’s less hard for me, but because it is less hard on my kids. I think we can choose to make our kids’ experiences in school less-stressful. So I do. I choose chill.
