I’m a sucker for sentiment. I am moved by moments. And when I am moved so, my face leaks a bit, and tears stream down my face.
It was a quiet moment. I was in my traditional district professional-development perch in our middle school gym, the top right corner, last Friday when I was moved by a clip from the making of The Greatest Showman. No one knew I had sprung a leak, but I did.
Our guest speaker, Kevin Parker, shared the clip below, using it as an example of what’s possible when we are connected, when we are supported by those in our “inner loops.” And while he was not talking about my classroom–he doesn’t even know me, I wanted to believe he was talking about my classroom, for that was where I was immediately transported as I thought about my intentional work to create connections with and for my kids.
I was moved. I am moved. As many of you know, the first role I ask my kids to play in my room is themselves.
Role #1: Yourself. This is your most important role. I need you to be who you are. I realize that the setting in which we find ourselves sometimes impacts our ability to be ourselves, but my hope is that the classroom community and culture we create during our time together will give each of us the comfort and confidence to be who we are. This is the role that matters most to me as I join you in your journey this year. I am excited to know YOU.
As I watched this clip, I found myself hoping that when my kids come to my room, they might be singing this song in their heads as they show us daily who they are through Smiles and Frowns. More, when they have their moments, those times when they more formally share their work, they feel like they have found their voices, they feel like they’ve stepped away from the podium and shined their lights.
I have always been a sentimental fool, and that was on quiet display Friday as I sat in the darkened gym thinking about my kids. But fool or no, it is what want for my kids. In fact, I will show them this clip as we continue our work with identity this semester, and I will also rename our “Project Identity,” “Project This Is Me.” Silly old man, me.
But be careful, for “why” is a stick with two ends, a piercing probe sharper by far than the blunt weapon of “what.”
And you, my friends, you are well-acquainted with “what.” True. You picked him up long ago. We dropped him before you as you crossed the threshold of your education.
Of course, “why” was there, too, but he fell in the tall grass when we dropped him, and we let him lie, hoping he remained hidden from view, and you, distracted, did not see.
But for the better we believed, for why is poky and sharp, better for kids not to play, with that which is dangerous. And with that, “what” became enough.
Didn’t it? Every day. Every day, you walk in here. And every day you ask me, “What are we doing?” But you never ask me why.
Why. Curious little word. Thought it when I wrote the above passage from my “Ask Me Why” injustice speech that I wrote alongside my kids three years ago, and I still think it now. Why don’t we ask why?
Yesterday, this curious little word found me again as I stumbled around in my head, looking for inspiration for a #MyRoomMessage.
Finding some traction after reading it to my kids second period, I decided on a whim to run with it a bit, challenging my kids to ask a teacher “Why?” this week. However, I framed it in terms of their sincerely seeking to understand, using tact, and not just trying to be a pain in the ass. Of course, I then became the teacher to whom they posed their why’s, and I obliged as best I could to field their inquiries.
And then I got to thinking and came up with an idea. Maybe they don’t ask why because it, as I offered above, is just not a part of our culture in education. Oh, I think we pay lip service (and many do much more but we still have a long ways to go) to curiosity and inquiry in the classroom, but we do seem to only skirt around “why,” devoting more attention to the “what” and “how” of things than the “why” of things. But why?
Make no mistake why is poky. Coming from the young it is often regarded as annoying or insolent. It is not their place to question our authority. But it’s not just the young who have become cowed into avoiding why. We, too, have been if not cowed into, then content with sidestepping why.
Take grading for instance. Most can articulate what they grade and how they grade it, but few can probably really articulate why they grade the way they do. And most who dare that path come to discover there’s little more to the genesis of their grading practices than it’s how they were graded. Ought we not have a better reason than that? I believe we should, and I am not alone, for many who have ventured into the realm of why learn that why leads to why and they evolve, as they look deeper into their practices.
And it’s that “deep look” that I seek from and for our kids. And I believe it starts with “why.” We have to make this a part of our culture if we want to change our culture. I want to change our culture, and so I’m encouraging kids to ask why.
But “why” bears responsibility. It must be sincere. But sincere doesn’t mean safe. Why is and will always be a little poky, for it is a challenge. And we have to think deeply and truly about our why when pressed. And we have to meet sincerity with sincerity, which means we have to be genuine and admit when we don’t know. And we have to give others that grace when we probe. Our goal is to understand not undermine, to make better not worse. And that takes commitment. Asking why is not an invitation to a casual conversation. It says, “I want to know; I want to understand.” It says, “I am here for the long haul.” And if we’re not, then it’s not sincere, and we shouldn’t ask the question. Why is a responsibility.
Too, we bear the responsibility of maturity. Something I am diligently trying to instill in my kids. Sometimes–maybe often times, we will not “like” the reason. But our liking or not liking does not alone determine the value of the response. And, again here, sincerity comes into play. Answers offered sincerely from a place of introspection and reflection need to be regarded as honest attempts to answer why. In that there is value. In that there is ownership. In that there is possibility of better, for why gets to the center, and that is where growth happens–for all of us.
But how can we make it a more prominent part of our culture? Well, as with many of the “culture-changing” things I want to see happen in education, I am going to start where I live: in my room. So, to make “why” more familiar and necessary, I am going to give it a place in our daily routine. We will now end each period with “Why with Sy.” I will ask my kids the why of our work, seeking to dig beneath the surface with them, so they see the value in why. Of course, I will grant them the grace of “I don’t know,” for especially in this case, if they don’t know why we’re doing something, I likely have some explaining to do. And I accept that responsibility.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…playing the prep game (sentence errors).
…delivering our “I’m From” poems.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…asking “Why with Sy.”
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Thursday, all. No posts now till next Tuesday. Have a great weekend.
Well, looks like we will be back at it today. Winter hit us hard here in the Pacific Northwest. Seems like February always reminds us that it’s not spring yet, and we’ve had snow days the past two, but we are back to work today.
Of course, snow days are work days for me. Living on a farm means even more work when snow comes to visit, but I love it–almost as much as I love teaching.
So, today, we will ease back into our work. Most of my kids are still sleeping at the moment (5:30 AM), certain we have a 2-hour delay, hopeful that we will have another snow day, but their dreams will be dashed when they wake to school on time this morning–even though it’s snowing. Gonna really feel like a Monday. But I’m glad to get the wheel’s a turnin’ again.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…reconnecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…publishing “I’m From” poems.
…clearing the clutter (lots of loose ends to tie up).
“When the timer goes off, cover with foil, and reset timer for another twenty minutes.”
She even texted him a reminder, so he wouldn’t forget.
The timer went off. He took it out of the oven, turned off the timer, and set the dish on the stove top.
When she got home, dinner wasn’t done.
He didn’t follow directions.
I even repeated them.
“When you revise the sentences in numbers 4 and 5, please underline the parallel elements in your sentence.”
I even reminded him (the whole class) as they were beginning to finish up the performance.
When he handed in the performance, nothing was underlined in numbers 4 and 5.
This happened in every period yesterday. And, in each, there were a number of hims and hers who didn’t follow directions.
Why? I don’t know. They weren’t listening? They’re kids? They’re humans?
In another time, in another classroom, Sy would have marked them wrong, referenced the multiple times directions were given, and pointed to those who did follow directions as evidence for why they missed the problem: they didn’t follow directions.
He would have been teaching them the lessons of the real world. Directions matter. They do. But in my experience, there are still plenty of folks, including myself, who fail to follow directions (see dinner example above) in the “real world.”
In this classroom, in this time, Sy does differently than he did. Today, he acknowledges that things happen, that kids, despite his attempts to prevent such things, don’t always follow the given guidelines. And so he works with not against them.
Yesterday, I gave the hims and hers some grace by simply calling them back up to the table to correct the problem. In most cases the sentences were written correctly; they just had not identified the parallel elements.
But wasn’t that inconvenient? Guidelines ensure efficiency. Yeah, it was a little clunky maybe, but I think serving others necessitates inconvenience. My job is to help and serve kids in this formative time in their lives. Do I want them to follow directions? Of course. Will they–despite my diligence to avoid it–not follow directions? Obviously.
What about the other kids who followed directions? Their attention to detail and direction will no doubt reward them in life. But I will no longer let that be the justification for penalizing those who don’t. Those who don’t will learn their lessons–probably time and again. But as for ending their habit right now and forever in room 206 because they forgot to underline in problems 4 and 5, not gonna happen.
Yesterday, millions of directions probably weren’t followed–at school and home, by young and old. In my little neck of the woods, dinner was saved and kids were given a chance to correct a mistake.
We choose what’s possible in the classroom. I have found a lot of wisdom in choosing possible. So I do.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…choosing a Community Champ.
…clearing the clutter (passing back Performances and organizing portfolios).
…strengthening culture with Community Circle.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend. Can’t believe we are at day 100!?!
Yesterday, the kids started mining their identities. I asked them to start writing an “I Am From” poem. I first came across this “type” of poem in Mary Pipher’s book Writing to Change the World. In chapter 2 “Know Thyself” she shares her version based on the original by George Ella Lyon. I shared Lyon’s with the kids (below).
Where I’m From I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. I am from the dirt under the back porch. (Black, glistening it tasted like beets.) I am from the forsythia bush, the Dutch elm whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own. I am from fudge and eyeglasses, from Imogene and Alafair. I’m from the know-it-alls and the pass-it-ons, from perk up and pipe down. I’m from He restoreth my soul with cottonball lamb and ten verses I can say myself. I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch, fried corn and strong coffee. From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger the eye my father shut to keep his sight. Under my bed was a dress box spilling old pictures. a sift of lost faces to drift beneath my dreams. I am from those moments — snapped before I budded — leaf-fall from the family tree.
By George Ella Lyon
Using a template I found online, I asked kids to start digging through their pasts to find some gems they could include in their own “I’m From” poems. We will continue working on these today, and the kids will publish and share them next week. It’s the first piece in their Project Identity Portfolio that they will be putting together all semester long as they seek to answer the question, “Who Am I?”
I am “digging” this opportunity to learn even more about my kids as they learn about and share themselves.
How’d the webcast go yesterday? Well, turns out, all my worry will have to wait. Spokane Talks had to reschedule. So we will now do it at a later date. I will keep you posted. All good. Life happens.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…demonstrating learning with parallel structure on a short Performance.
…digging deeper into identity with our “I’m From Poems.”
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Thursday, all. Sorry for the practical post this morning. Have a great day.
Usually, I am saying this to my kids. Today, I am saying it to myself.
You’ll be fine, Sy. You write and talk about this stuff all the time. It’s not your first rodeo. Just get up there and do your best.
I will. I do. It’s not. I will.
But, if I’m honest, I am a bit anxious this morning as I think ahead to my guest opportunity on Spokane Talks this afternoon with ED 101 host, Erik Wolfrum.
We are doing a segment on “humanizing education,” and I am eager to share my work around classroom culture. And while I feel like I have much to share, I am a little worried about where to start, go, and end. We only have 24 minutes. It’s an open format, with no advance questions. It’s live. And it’s at home.
What if I say too much?
What if I don’t say enough?
What if I forget to say that?
What if I say something I shouldn’t?
What if I mess up?
I dreamt last night that I lost all my followers on Twitter, and I was desperate to find out why, but no one would talk to me. They just kept disappearing. I hope it was not a harbinger of bad things to come this afternoon. I hope people don’t disappear. I hope I don’t disappear.
You’ll be fine.
I will. But I’ve always been a “Nervous Nellie.” And no matter how many times I do something; no matter how many times I tell myself, “I’ll be fine,” my worry warts raise their ugly heads, and I worry.
I am nervous. I tell my kids that’s a good thing. It means we care. And I do care. Maybe too much. I don’t get up at the crack of dawn every morning to make sense of and share my journey because I have nothing better to do. I believe in this stuff. I live this stuff. It drives me. It consumes me. It’s become me.
And so, as I think ahead–real or imagined–I feel a great amount of pressure to make it count. I want to better education. I want to better the world. I want us to create greater spaces of connection for kids, so they may not only live their best lives now but also live their best lives later. And not simply because we prepared them for what is, but rather because we empowered them to create what yet may be: a world connected, a world they create because they expect more and believe they can do more. That is what I want.
I will share this post with my kids today. I want them to know I get nervous, too. But, more importantly, I want to continue sharing more of what I expect and want from and for them: a better world.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…playing the preparation game (parallel structure).
…sharing my nerves.
…creating “I am from” poems for Project Identity.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Wednesday, all. Thank you for letting me write through my anxiety this morning. It helped.
Some days Just aren’t ours. When there’s not much light in our stars. It is good to rely On those around To buoy us up So we don’t drown
Probably should have stayed home yesterday. But by the time I got to school and finally decided that was the best course of action, there were no subs available. Didn’t want to inconvenience any colleagues with covering my classes, so I stayed. And I used one of my lifelines.
I give kids two lifelines per semester to use at their discretion. Many never use them (I allow them to carry them over if they don’t). For the few who do use them, it’s generally due to stress from a test in another class. And, of course, some just use them when they are having a crappy day. Regardless the reason, they are their lifelines to spend and accept responsibility for.
Yesterday, my reason fell under the “feeling crappy” heading. I was not–no matter how hard I fought it–going to be my best. So, I let the kids know.
And they in turn, let me know that it was okay.
Fortunately, yesterday was a scheduled personal reading day, so it was good day to float along. Grateful that my kids lifted me up and carried me through. Kids. They really are the best humans.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…playing the preparation game with parallel structures.
…students leading and evaluating a discussion on Nature v. Nurture
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme
Happy Tuesday, all. Still floating a bit, but head’s above water this morning.
Morning, all. Find myself a lot tired and a little uninspired this morning. Doesn’t happen very often, but I am not going to fight it. Sorry. Back at it tomorrow. Promise.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…the joy of personal reading.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Monday, all. Thanks for letting me off the hook this morning.
“Sy, I didn’t get this done. Is it okay if I take it home and finish it,” Faith asked.
“What do you think I’m gonna say, Faith?”
“Of course you can,” she gently parroted.
“Of course you can,” I smiled, as “onlisteners” cracked their own “knowing smiles.”
“Man,” I continued. “Next year I ‘m gonna try out “mean” for a year. A new project. Instead of Project 180, I am going to do Project Mean-Guy Sy.”
Laughing, kids bobbed their heads in a “good-luck-with-that” gesture.
Maggie, my TA who was in my class last year, announced with a gentle chide, “That’ll last about half a period.”
They know me better. I could never be Mean-Guy Sy. And here’s why.
I don’t need to be.
Of course, I didn’t enter the world of ed knowing that. I have learned that. I have, much to my shame, been mean a few times, but I quickly learned better upon reflection. We never have to be mean to kids. Never.
So, then, does that make me “Super-Nice-Guy Sy?” Of “Easy-Guy Sy?” I prefer, “Respectful-Guy Sy.”
I respect my kids. I respect their dignity, their individuality, their humanity. And I pay it first. I respect them and then work hard to earn their respect.
If that makes me easy, so be it. Okay, but can I manage a classroom? Don’t try to. I nurture culture.
From the moment my kids walk in the door.
To the words they find within.
To the roles, rights, responsibilities they own.
To the last words they hear as they leave my room.
Faith knew she didn’t need to ask me if it was okay. She already knew the answer. But she asked me anyway. They all ask. They all know. Of course, it’s okay. And I hope they know that the “okay” is my being respectful, not my being easy. For if they don’t…well, I may have to dig out my “Mean-Guy Sy” costume.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…discussing what Nature v. Nurture reveals about human identity.
We made snowflakes yesterday. Ya know, the ones we made in elementary school by folding paper, making cuts, and then unfolding them to marvel at the beauty of our creation. Those snowflakes.
But first we read a comic.
Our focus for the semester is “Identity,” and our Essential Question that will drive our work is “Who Am I?” So, as we delve deeper into the realm of identity, we started with Nature v. Nurture yesterday. After viewing a short clip on epigenetics (see below), I asked the kids to read the comic and answer the following questions.
What does the cartoon reveal about nature? Support with evidence from the text.
What does the cartoon reveal about nurture? Support with evidence from the text.
What is the central theme of the text? Write a theme statement.
Then I asked them to consider how our classroom culture related to the comic, particularly our use of Smiles and Frowns.
It honors our differences, our individuality.
We get to see how different and how alike we all are.
You keep us frozen, keep our snowflakes from melting.
Snowflakes from melting. Not sure I have ever been paid a more strange or satisfying compliment from a kiddo.
I then asked them to walk back with me to the first day of class ninety-some days ago, when I shared my “Roles, Routines, Rights, Responsibilities” approach with them, asking in particular if they remembered their first and most important role from the top of the list.
“Be ourselves,” they smiled.
I smiled back. And I told them everything I do is so they not only better discover themselves but also–maybe more importantly–never lose themselves in my room. If kids lose themselves in my room because of the environment that I create, then I cannot–I will not–weather that storm. That I could not accept. So I work to prevent such a terrible tempest. I work hard to save the unique beauty of each snowflake that enters my room.
And with that, I told them they’re all my little snowflakes and to celebrate and honor them we were going to make snowflakes! They responded with glee.
Today, they will add ten character traits to their flakes and hang them ceremoniously on the north wall of my room. Just the place we’d expect a snowflake to be most comfortable.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…playing the “number game” (gaming the standardization game). Continuing with parallel structure.
…hanging snowflakes.
…diving deeper into Nature v. Nurture, reading psychology articles and preparing for tomorrow’s discussion.
