This morning I am going to highlight and respond to a comment from reader Steph Irwin. Thank you, Steph, for giving me some food for thought.

Hello, Sy. I’d like to thank you for sharing your classroom experiences on your blog. I happened upon it earlier this school year after reading about you on the Upworthy website. I’ve read your blog faithfully since then, sometimes reacting with skepticism, sometimes reacting with awe. At the heart of all you do IS your heart, and for me, that is most impressive.

A nagging wondering I always have as I read…what are the naysayers like in your world? They must be in your building. How are you supported by your administration? How about those kids that I envision would welcome a chance to NOT have to participate or complete assigned work? Do most of them come around at some point in the year and own it?

I’ve finished a year with a junior class that came in with a reputation for apathy and a weak work ethic. This proved to be true, in many instances, no matter how hard I tried to inspire them. I’m ending the year somewhat discouraged, thinking I need to make some changes in myself instead of expecting so many changes in them. But I don’t know, and as a 30 year veteran of the classroom I’m not sure where to begin. So I decided I’ll start with my own version of Smiles and Frowns next year, a small start to what could turn into something big. I’ll keep you posted, and I’ll keep reading about your classroom journey. Thank you for opening your classroom door to the rest of us. You can’t walk in the room unless the door is open.
Steph Irwin
Sandy Valley High School
Magnolia, OH

Naysayers

Yes, of course, I have some naysayers in my neck of the woods, but not as many as I thought I might. In truth, as I set out on my first year I not only expected it, but I also welcomed it. My thinking was that by doing things radically differently I would ensure a “coming-to-the-table” moment around the topic of grading practices. I wanted to get out in the open some “truths” about the what, why, and how of our myriad approaches. But, it never happened. And I’m not sure why. In that most radical of years, only one parent challenged me (but I think now she would have challenged me, no matter what I did). No one else, at least not publicly, has really challenged me.

And that includes administration. They have been supportive. Of course, I largely attribute that to my being transparent and communicative about my work. And I think, Steph, that has led to if not my success then at least my “minimal failure” with stakeholders: communication. I work “overtime,” especially early in the year, to communicate my approach with students and parents. Yes, the year always begins with skeptics–always–but I have had some success with bringing them around to if not believing in what I am doing to at least seeing what I am doing.

Of late, which is not really connected to grading as much as culture in the 180 classroom, I have caught wind of some of my colleagues in the building criticizing what I am doing, claiming kids “only like me because I am easy.” Sadly, they unprofessionally express such things publicly to our shared students, and of course the kids tell me. I shrug it off. I have half a mind to invite them to my classroom, so they can see what we’re about in room 206. I am not so sure they would reciprocate. My door is literally and figuratively always open. And anyone, supporter or critic, is always welcome.

Kids Will Be Kids

Really, people will be people. If there is an easy route, then there is always the urge to follow it. In the 180 classroom with neither stick nor carrot to push or pull them down the path, I have to rely on commitment. Does that mean, then, that some kids never quite get there, never quite commit? Of course. But that was true in my compliance classroom of old, too. And that is why I subscribe to the belief that kids will either do the work or they won’t do the work. And, of course, “doing” is matter of perception. Two summers ago, I wrote about the different “do’s” in the classroom, in a post I called, “The Dilemma of Do.” (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/the-dilemma-of-do/). I know it seems out-of-hand and dismissive to accept that some kids just won’t do the work, but it’s been my truth for 23 years now, and it has fueled my belief that I provide opportunity and support. The “do” is up to them.

Does that mean that I just turn my cheek and let them do nothing? No, certainly not. I use my relationships with them to encourage them to make the most of the opportunity and support that I provide. And for a great many this works. But for some–sadly–we never get there. I have come to accept that.

Smiles and Frowns

I’m sorry that you are ending your year a bit discouraged. I can relate. In fact, I, too, am ending with some discouragement, seems I always do. And even though I seem to be talking a big game up above with my “what-will-be-will-be” attitude about student motivation, it always cuts and I am “wounded” when I can’t reach a kid. But of late, with the implementation of Smiles and Frowns over the last two years, my “unreachables” have diminished dramatically.

As I have offered a number of times recently, Smiles and Frowns is the best decision I have ever made. And I stand firmly by that. I have never had such strong connections with kids before. So, I am heartened to hear that you are considering using it in your own classroom next year–in your own way. I think that is key. You have to use it in a way that best fits you and your classroom. I think you will find the impact significant. And, yes please, keep me posted. I would love to hear how it’s going.

Well, Steph. I hope this post helps a bit. I appreciate your sending some wonders and questions my way. I also appreciate your faithful readership. Please feel free to reach out in the future. I’m always happy to help and share.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Sensing my faltering, waning energy and effort from yesterday’s post, friend and colleague Dr. Chris Valeo, a professor of English at Eastern Washington University, threw me a lifeline, suggesting that my readers could help by sending some questions my way.

“Good morning, Sy! Would it help to have questions/wonderings from your reading faithful as you start to reflect in a wrap-up-this-year kind of way? It wouldn’t mean that you had to answer all — or any! It would be more that all of us who have been benefiting from the public thinking you’ve been doing could share a thought or two that might offer inspiration or momentum.”

I readily jumped at the opportunity, encouraging her to send some wonderings/questions. She did. Here’s one that caught my attention this morning.

“Do you see the past three years as part of one arc or as three separate efforts to innovate?”

Though each year has been a distinct journey, they all stem from the same place. So, with that, I would have to offer that they are all indeed part of one arc: giving students ownership of their learning.

Year One

Give ’em all an A. And I did. As my faithful know–as you know, Chris–I literally handed a wooden A to each kid as they walked through the door on day one. I made a 150 of them that summer. I wanted the gesture to be symbolic as I told them they had an A for the entire year. No matter what. At the end of each term, regardless of what they did or didn’t do, they would find an A on their transcripts.

The idea was to take grades off the table, so we could focus on learning, on learners. And we did. It remains the most authentic year I have ever experienced as a teacher. But despite the authentic learning experiences we created, I changed my approach the next year.

Year Two

Select-and-Support. For a number of my kids, the give-’em-an-A approach was a leap too far. It was so different from what they were used to, and I felt that I had heaped too much ownership on their shoulders, so I sought a middle ground. I still wanted ownership to be the focus, but I wanted to provide an easier transition into ownership. So, after making some connections via Twitter with other teachers around the world who were experimenting with taking grading off the table, I devised a select-and-support approach. Basically, the kids would come to the table at the end of the term with a self-selected grade and evidence to support it.

This approach seemed to make the transition easier for kids. Looking back, I’m not sure it created the same level of ownership as the previous year, but it still de-emphasized grading and thus more greatly emphasized learning.

Of course, in year two, I was also trying to create an easier transition for fellow teachers who were interested in what I was doing but were not ready or willing to leap so far as to give all kids an A. But they felt they could rally around the select-and-support approach, and they did. Jenna Tamura and Madeline Alderete, my grade-level partners, made the jump. I was not alone. And this was of significance going into year two, for year one was a lonely venture.

Year Three

Something’s gotta change. Year three began much the same as year two with select-and-support. I liked the approach well enough to continue it this year, but if I am honest, I began to fall out of love with it by mid-year. Oh, I still like the ownership it creates for kids, but I felt like something was still holding them back. They weren’t as invested as I’d like to them to be, and I began to feel tuggings from year one, as I remembered the feeling of kids’ having genuine ownership of their learning. And I had an aha moment.

It was not necessarily a new revelation, for it had been lingering for some time. It was more that the idea had been lying dormant, waiting for the right conditions to come out into the open. Recently, I wrote about my revelation of going with a “feedback-only” classroom next year in my post, “Chasing Better: Dreams of a Feedback-Only Classroom” (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/chasing-better-dreams-of-a-feedback-only-classroom/).

As I wrote in the post, critiquing my “performance-learning” approach, numbers were still getting in the way of student ownership, still getting in the way of learning. So, I have decided to focus on feedback only next year. I have continued to ponder and process how this will all work, and I am pleased with what I have come up with, but I am not ready to reveal it all yet. I will do so this summer as I begin to set the stage for year four in the Project 180 classroom.

Points Converge

So, yes, one arc, Chris. All things led to here, where I think I wanted to be, where I think I jumped in three years ago, but I did not have the knowledge to keep it afloat. Funny how I keep living the circle, running the cycle, going back to where I started. But I think that’s how it has to be. I think that’s learning. I think that’s the embodiment of my mantra: Do. Reflect. Do Better. The wheels keep turnin’.

Thank you, Chris. Thank you for helping this old guy find some momentum as he limps towards the finish line. Thank you.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. If any other readers out there want to send some wonderings/questions my way, I’d appreciate it. You can comment here or send me an email: montesyrie@gmail.com.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Hope it’s just the end of the year catching up with me. Hope it’s just a lack of energy. I hope.

Hope it’s not that I am losing my desire to blog every morning. Hope it’s not that I have spent all that I have to spend over the last three years. I hope it’s not.

But, if I am honest, for the last little bit, it’s been harder and harder to post every morning. I sit here staring at the screen for longer than I’d like, hoping to find my morning muse, but she presents herself less lately. Not sure what’s going on, exactly, but something is.

Maybe I am evolving. Maybe I am caught between two selves as I shed my last better to take on my next, waiting for that full 180-degree turn, short by 17 degrees. Maybe.

From day one, Project 180 has been about turning myself upside down so I would have to right myself and find my feet again. So, maybe it’s that. I have not quite completed the turn, and as I am already eager to jump ahead with my “next better” for a new year, I am just stuck inside. Maybe.

Of course, by now, you’d think I’d know better. You’d think I’d know better than to wish away the day, hoping for tomorrow. And, I suppose, on some level I do know better, but I keep doing it anyway, and I don’t know why I’d expect it to be any different on year 23. It’s not. I can “see it,” so I want to chase it.

To be sure, I am looking forward to implementing my plans for a feedback-only classroom next year. It’s beauty beckons, but it will have to wait. I still have this year to finish. I can’t be chasing shiny new things just yet.

Oh, the curse of always chasing better. Maybe my immediate, “next better” needs to be my becoming better at just living in the moment, noting the view on the outside, but honoring what yet remains on the inside.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Why ya cryin’, Ry?”

Ryan, emotional, somewhere between laughing and crying, tears flowing, “Everyone was so kind.”

As I shared on Friday, we did Community Circle a bit differently this time. Instead of going around the circle and discussing various topics, we just put our names in the center of a page and passed it around. We added a personal message to everyone’s page, and by the end of the period, we all had a page full of comments from our classroom community.

The goal was to show the depth of the connections we’ve created this semester, this year by being able to write a personalized message for our classmates. and while I did not have time to read them all as the papers made their way around the room and I added my own message to each, those I did read made me incredibly proud of the young people with whom I have shared life the past 162 days. It’s no wonder Ryan was cryin’. It mattered deeply to him. It matters deeply to me. Connections matter. Deeply.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers as we continue planning, drafting, revising, and publishing pieces.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all. Off to meet one of my eduheroes for an early breakfast. Share more tomorrow.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

It’s a beautiful day for Smiles and Frowns

Won’t you share your ups and downs

Won’t you share

We all care

Won’t you share your story.

I know. I know. I know I talk a lot about Smiles and Frowns. But I can’t help it. It’s such a huge part of the 180 experience. My first “self-standard” is that in my room I want kids to feel connected, even after they leave. Sometimes, sadly, they leave sooner than the end of the year. Ez is leaving us early. She and her family are moving back to California, and as a testament to the connections created through Smiles and Frowns, she wrote and delivered this farewell letter to our 5th period community.

This makes me so happy. Oh, I am sad–super sad–that Ez is leaving, but I am proud of what we have accomplished as a community this year. Connections matter.

Of course, I am also proud that all my talk about Smiles and Frowns is spreading. I know of a dozen teachers near and far (Australian Abe M.) who have made it a part of their daily routine–and at least a dozen more who are planning on using it next year. And it may get bigger yet as Teacher 2 Teacher boosted it on their platform by running a piece on it after interviewing me last month.

How I Build Community with ‘Smiles and Frowns’

Their reach is both far and wide, and it is my earnest hope that other educators see and consider the impact of such a practice on their classroom cultures. Of course, I didn’t invent this. Others also use such practices under different names: peaks and valleys, happies and crappies, roses and thorns, and a new name from nearby Rachael K., “Howls and Growls.” Nothing “new” in room 206, but I think the difference may be my commitment to making it a daily practice (for two-full years now), to making it THE priority every day, no matter what, for as I shared with the folks at T2T, it is the most important time investment I have ever made. Ever. And I think with testimonies such as Ez’s, it’s an investment that pays dividends long into the future.

A huge thank you to Teacher 2 Teacher for sharing Smiles and Frowns with a larger audience.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…building deeper connections through Community Circle (supposed to happen on the first Friday of each month, but we’re behind. Today’s circle will be a little different. I will share about it on Monday).

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all. Have a fantastic weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Sy, can we do a Survivor thing in here?”

“What do you mean, Jack ?”

“Ya know, like the show. Tribes. Immunity challenges. Things like that.”

Jack (name changed), with Brian in tow, approached me mid-period yesterday during fourth. Prior to that moment, I had overheard them back in the corner, joking with Jill, telling her she was “voted off the island.” Of course, they were playing, and of course, as is typical with my “corner crew,” they were not working very diligently. In fact Jack, I believe, had already given up on the year. So though I figured on some level he was just continuing the play, there was a spark in his eye, and sensing a chance at turning that spark into something more, I took a chance. I broke the rules.

“I’ll make you a deal. Since you are obviously not making any progress with the project, and–if we’re being honest–you’re probably not going to. No offense, kiddo. Just calling it as I see it.”

“Nah, you’re right, Sy.”

“Okay, then. If you and Brian (since it was really Brian’s idea) put together and execute a plan for “Survivor,” I will let that be your “This Is Me” project, excusing you from all its work. But. You have to show me daily progress and consult with me frequently.”

“Okay, Sy. We can do that.”

“I hope. ‘Cause if you don’t stay on top of this, then no deal.”

Spark to flame. For the next twenty minutes, there was more productive buzz from these two than I have seen all year. In fact, the rest of the “corner crew” were energized in a way heretofore unseen. At the end, they had created and shared a page-full of brainstorming with me, responding to questions, writing down my suggestions, considering other possibilities.

I made a choice. Some might suggest I just make Jack and Brian comply. I get that, and once upon a classroom, I did that. But that’s not me. As I have suggested many times, I am not interested in compliance. I seek commitment. They were not committing to the project. So, when this opportunity presented itself yesterday, I made a choice, I took a chance. Right choice? I don’t know. Time will tell. But if my opening the door yesterday can continue to fan the flame in these two, then it will all be worth it. It was a chance I had to take.

Today’s Trail

I am actually not at school today. I have an appointment. Life calls sometimes and we have to answer when it does.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Not gonna happen today, I guess. Staring at the screen, digging into my memory well, and coming up empty. Lots of good things happening with the kids right now. I am proud of their diligence, despite the time of year, but I just don’t have much that is new to share at this time.

So, I am not going to force it. The well is dry today.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…seeking and responding to feedback.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Maybe the rain today will fill the well.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

There is nothing more important than the people in the room, so we start with the people in the room. Every day.

Thirty-four years ago I learned an important lesson about teaching. Of course, I was only a student at the time, and I did not really know or truly appreciate the lesson, but all these years later, I know and appreciate–really and truly–what I learned from Mrs. Hisaw about the importance of relationships in the classroom. I was reminded of that Friday when I found this card in my school mailbox.

She was my junior high P. E. teacher. She wrote us cards then, which always contained words of love, wisdom, and encouragement, and she is still doing it today–thirty-four years later. She is still making an impact, still making a difference. And it is this same teacher I have striven to be and will continue to strive to be years into my students’ futures.

Everything I do to build relationships, from Smiles and Frowns to MyRoomMessages to Sappy Sy Rhymes to writing cards, can be traced back to the lady who taught me everything there is to know about working with young people. Thank you, Hise. I am who I am as a teacher because of you.

Of course, as I have discovered and continue to share from my own journey as a teacher, relationships are neither automatic nor accidents. They are intentional constructs of connection. And of all that I do, I believe there is nothing more important or suited for developing relationships than Smiles and Frowns (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/reflections-reality-relationships-are-not-accidents/).

Each day, each period–no matter what–my kids and I begin our time with Smiles and Frowns. We even found a way to do it during state testing. It is our must, our non-negotiable. I told my kids on day one, when I introduced it to them for the first time, there is nothing more important than the people in the room, so we start with the people in the room. And now, 156 days later, there would be an uprising if it were taken away. I have even said, publicly, I would get fired if I were ever made to take out of my classroom. Fired? Why would anyone ever want to stop Smiles and Frowns. Time. It takes time. And there are differing opinions on what constitutes good use of time. Some of my colleagues near and far think such things are a waste of time.

By year’s end, I will have invested well over a 1,000 minutes in Smiles and Frowns. Some people find that unreasonable, unacceptable, and even–I suppose–to be malpractice. Malpractice? It is bad practice to invest in kids? I don’t buy that–emotionally or rationally. We claim to know a lot in education. One of those claims, which requires no degree and was most popularly suggested by Maya Angelou, is that kids will forget much of what we taught them, but they will never forget how we made them feel. Never. We know this. Time has told this tale, time and time again. Mrs. Hisaw knew this thirty-four years ago, and I know it today. Many of us know it today, and that’s why we do what we do, even at the risk of being misunderstood and maligned by our peers. Education is not merely an investment in an institution. It is an investment in humanity. And so, I invest each day in the young humans in my charge. Will it matter in the long run? Only time knows that answer. But I have a hunch, it will. So, I invest. Every day.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

A bit tired and uninspired this morning. Batteries are starting to run low. Tells me it’s getting nigh time for a long, deep-cycle charge: summer. Hard to imagine how we could do this job without the summer weeks to rest, reflect, and recharge. And, as summer nears, it’s hard to resist the pull; it’s hard to hide the tired. So, not gonna hide it this morning. I am tired and ready for summer. I suspect I am not alone. At the very least, the kids are with me.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all. Sorry for the lame post this morning.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Kids are icebergs: so little above, so much below. And like icebergs, no two kids are alike. And this year, as my “bergs” have bobbed around our sea, I have gotten to know more of what lies hidden beneath.

Of all my bergs, he may be my “bergiest” of all–so much to him, more than I dare share, for his is not a fairy tale. There is no Disney version. But that does not mean that there have not been moments of hope. Yesterday, he and I shared a moment, a bright, beautiful moment. He drafted this poem and shared it with me.

On the surface, it is a rough, unfinished draft. But, given all that this young man carries beneath, this, to me, is a masterpiece. It is something that I would proudly frame and hang on my wall for the rest of my career. Today, I will ask him if I may. I want it there, on my wall, as a reminder that there is more to each kid than we could possibly know, and when–if–they let us in, it is a gift, for when we find their door, it opens our eyes to the possibility, the promise they possess.

I’m so glad I crashed into this young man. It’s of titanic consequence to me as I continue to navigate the waters of my classroom, seeking and crashing into icebergs so I may find what lies hidden.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.

…growing as writers.

…reflecting in our Journey Journals.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.