It was about the reality of our kids who daily struggle in a system, in a society that is not as compassionate as it should be.

 

I imagine everyone is getting tired of hearing about it. I thought it was finally dying down, but it seems the cover’s not quite closed on Meg’s story. Yesterday, I was contacted by KHQ, one of our local news stations, about my recent Twitter thread that had gotten some attention, and they wanted to talk to me, so they came out and interviewed me at lunch. And shortly after KHQ contacted me, KREM 2, another local news station, set up an interview after school. So much for my “it-is-dying-down” and “we-can-just-ease-into-our-Monday” feeling that started my day yesterday. Meg’s story is not quite done, and I still cannot believe that my viral moment, my “15 minutes” as a teacher is coming from a kid falling asleep in my class. Can’t they fire me for that?

But it was never really about Meg sleeping. And while some on social media criticized both my letting her sleep and my “cashing in on it,” it was never about my letting a kid fall asleep in my class or my patting myself on the back for being a good guy. It was about the reality of our kids who daily struggle in a system, in a society that is not as compassionate as it should be. That is why I shared the thread. If Meg had not emailed me her essay at 9:00 PM that night, if I had not run into her at the grocery store the next morning at 6:45 AM, then I never would have tweeted what I did. I was moved. I was moved by this kid who, despite all the things that she is juggling in her life, makes it work. No, she does not do it in the most efficient or exemplary manner, but who does? I don’t. I can barely manage my life, and I, like Meg, can benefit from a little grace now and then. That is why I wrote the thread. I was simply moved by a moment. And I shared it.

Here are the links to the interviews

http://www.khq.com/clip/14365113/cheney-teachers-tweet-goes-viral

 

https://www.krem.com/article/news/education/cheney-hs-teachers-story-about-letting-exhausted-student-sleep-goes-viral/293-556704217

Todays’ Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…keep grinding towards the end with our Passion Papers and Speeches.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

Though I stand firmly behind the assertion that everything in the classroom depends on relationships, I think it’s important to acknowledge that one cannot simply chant “Relationships. Relationships. Relationships,” and expect everything to magically fall into place, like “Ta Da!” Of course, when talking about my own classroom and the successes–and failures–I’ve had, I have offered the relationship chant. In fact, I catch myself doing it all the time, and while there is certainly something to it, it stops short of presenting the reality of relationships in the classroom: relationships are work. All relationships are, even our best and most important ones. And just as my relationships with my wife, Mom, best friend, children, and the list goes on require constant attention and effort, so do my relationships with my students.

And though I beat my drum to this all the time–and will continue to do so, it all begins with how we want people to feel. I stand by that. I live by that, for it is the feelings from that “connectedness” that foster the relationships we have with those around us. How I make you feel will ultimately determine the nature and strength of our relationship. So, when I think about the kinds of relationships I want with my students, I consider how I want and need them to feel to create the classroom culture that I desire.

In my classroom, I want you to feel…

Connected

Empowered

Respected

Valued

Challenged

Supported

 

I have shared these before. And I will likely share them again, for they are my standards; they are how I judge my success. And while I daily reflect on my meeting–or not meeting–these standards, there is a lot of preparatory, behind-the-scenes planning and front loading that goes into creating the culture of “my room.” Below are the rights and routines that I handed the kids at the beginning of the year. I want them to feel valued and connected, so I refer to them as members of our learning community. I don’t call them “rules.” I want them to feel respected, I call them rights and responsibilities. Further, I want them to feel empowered by the notion that they have rights, that they have the right to expect certain things from their education, and they can and should call me out when their needs are not being met. I could continue my analysis, but here’s my point: I am very intentional about creating culture, about developing real relationships with my kids. It’s so much more than chanting “relationships!”

I do have great relationships with my kids, but it is a lot of hard and consistent work. I have had a number of people recently inquiring about my entry task, Smiles and Frowns. And I am thrilled by their interest in my approach, but I would gently caution that it’s not just a sideshow or cute activity, it’s a deeply embedded routine that fits the full scheme of my desired classroom culture. Of all that I have committed to this year to bring about student success in my room, it has been the top priority from day one. I decided 163 days ago that my kids’ feeling connected would get prioritized over everything, and I best do that with Smiles and Frowns. Recently, in my end of the year evaluation, I was pleased that my supervisor noted and complimented my work.

 

Component 1.3: Understanding Students’ Interests and Backgrounds

The teacher builds positive relationships with students by understanding students’ interests and background.

Thank you for taking the time to do smiles and frowns. I know it is difficult to take time away from “academics,” but I know you are well aware of the value of getting to know about student’s lives outside of class. It’s strange, because I’ve had moments during weeks when I’ve thought to myself, “I could share that during smile and frowns.” This practice gives you a quick reference for how a student might be acting in class. When they are having an “off” day, you’re aware of that before class begins. Nice job keeping the pace quick so that this is helpful, but doesn’t overtake class. 

 

I am pleased that she sees the value in my taking time to be connected to my kids. It is not an accident. It is an investment. And it has paid dividends this year. Relationships and all the work that goes into them have the power to impact student success, academically and behaviorally. Not arrogantly–yes, kids like my class; yes, I am popular. Yes, my class looks and feels different from a traditional classroom. And I think some teachers begrudge that and think that I am only doing it to be popular among the kids, but I think they misunderstand, and I think they don’t really see or know what goes on in my classroom. I have written zero referrals this year, and once again over 90% of my kids met or exceeded proficiency standards on the Smarter Balanced Assessment. The latter, I don’t really care about, but some do–likely the same some who think that Smiles and Frowns is akin to sitting in a circle singing Kumbaya. I am sorry that they do not see. I am sorry that they do not see the impact that relationships can have on student success. We don’t need rules and rigidity to create success. We just need to connect with kids on a human level. I think it is that simple. Truly.

Rights

As a member of this community, you have the following rights.

I have the right to feel safe.

I have the right to learn.

I have the right to ask as many questions as I want.

I have the right to make mistakes and not fear penalty.

I have the right to “prove” my learning in various ways.

I have the right to feedback as an essential part of my learning.

I have the right to access my teacher for help whenever possible.

I have the right to eat and drink in class.

I have the right to express that my rights are not being granted or protected.

 

Responsibilities

Beyond your rights, you will also have responsibilities as a member of our learning community.

I have a responsibility to get to class on time. If I am late, I will not disrupt the class. I will quietly apologize and sit down. I understand that if my being late becomes a habit, my teacher and I will have to find a solution.

I have a responsibility to know and honor the routines of this class.

I have a responsibility of monitoring my behavior so I do not disrupt the learning of my community members.

I have a responsibility to self-regulate my use of electronic devices in this room. I will keep my device stored out of sight until the Brain Break or when I have been given permission to use it as a tool. I understand that if I cannot self-regulate, my teacher will ask me to keep my device on her desk during class. I may have it back during Brain Break. I will also have future opportunities to prove I can self-regulate.

I have a responsibility to be a great listener. This means, I will not talk while others are talking; I will visually track/connect with the speaker; and I will use gestures to demonstrate that I am listening.

I have a responsibility to self-regulate my leaving the room. I may go to the bathroom when I need to, but I need to work at keeping my leaving to a minimum.

I have a responsibility to take ownership for my learning. It is my learning.

I have a responsibility to be sensitive to and respectful of others’ viewpoints. In short, I have a responsibility to be kind.

I have a responsibility to clean my space before I leave for the day.

 

Interventions for when I do not meet the obligations of my responsibilities.

Reminder(s)

Conversation(s)

Parent Contact

Office Referral (It is unlikely that I will ever get to this point.)

 

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…write our conclusions for our Be a Voice speeches.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all. Sorry for the long post. Have a splendid day.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

Our voices make real our vision, our work, and work wants witness.

And when our work has witness it has the potential, it has the power to better the world.

And just as the book bears no meaning until its words are lifted by the eyes of the reader.

Our work, our vision cannot better the world until it reaches the world.

It is not real until it is received.

And so we have to deliver it.

And we can.

 

 

The past 48 hours have been a crazy coaster ride: overwhelming, gratifying, affirming, humbling, inspiring. Yesterday, I shared Meg’s story and how much activity it had created in the Twitterverse, marveling that my thread had made over 40,000 impressions. I was inspired that some tweets about showing a young lady some grace resonated with so many, giving me hope for the humanization of education. I was grateful to find so many others out there who understood the human side of things. So many others. But I had no idea how many. No idea at all. Turns out yesterday’s response was but a foothill to the massive mountain that was to come.

 

 

I had no idea. But now that I know better, I am inspired to do better. I am inspired more than ever to use my voice to help elevate the notion of humanization in education, especially in this current era of standardization. I am empowered to know that there are so many others out there who “get it” and “live it” with their students every day. Above, I shared a passage from my recent post, The World Waits, because I wanted to reiterate the importance of connecting our work with the world, for when we are connected, we can do great things. Of course, sharing my work has come primarily from my daily blog posts from the last two-and-a-half years (557 posts to date), which I will continue in earnest to do, but I find it a bit funny that, after all that, a simple tweet about a simple teacher and a simple student in a simple town in Washington State carried so far. Who’d have thought?

I didn’t, and I am humbled by those who have been witness, by those who believe and do as I. Thank you for all that you do for kids. Thank you for letting me know that I am not alone. We are not alone. And together we can better the world.

Today’s Trail 

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…continue our work with Project Be a Voice.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Friday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

She is not the first kid to fall asleep in my class. And she likely won’t be the last, but she is the most recent, and something about her two slumber two days ago caught my attention, and I was inspired to share her story with the world, so I did.  Here is the Twitter thread I shared yesterday morning because Meg slept.

I just wanted to capture a moment and share it with some of the educators with whom I am connected on Twitter, and while I expected a few likes from some of my closer Tweeps, I did not expect the staggering outpouring of support from around the country as educators, parents, and others lit up my feed all day long with likes, retweets, and comments. I don’t think it even comes close to qualifying as trending or going viral, but in the last twenty-four hours this thread has made over 40,000 impressions and the number is still rising. I am not sharing that from a place of arrogance. I am sharing that from a place of hope. It tells me that there are many out there who come from a place of compassion and empathy in education. It tells me that there are many out there who understand that we are not producing products in our classrooms; we are helping humans grow. It tells me that there are many out there who believe that trusting our instincts and going against the grain when it benefits our kids is okay. It tells me that I am not alone. I am glad that I am not alone. I now know that more than ever. And it’s all because Meg slept.

Today’s Trail

I will not be at school today. My son has his piano adjudication, and I will be spending the day with him. Catch up with everyone tomorrow. Happy Thursday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

 

 

Well, seems staring at the screen isn’t going to produce anything to write about this morning, so I am simply going to bid everyone a happy Wednesday. Can’t believe we are down to 20 days. Sorry for the non-post this morning, a little tired and uninspired. Catch ya tomorrow.

Happy Wednesday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

*Warning: explicit language

He just showed up in class six weeks ago, a young black man from North Carolina. He is one of five kids of color in my fourth period class, and the only black kid. He introduced himself as Jaheem. Soft spoken, he shared that he was out here living with his cousin and her husband who are stationed here at Fairchild Air Force Base. I welcomed him to class, quietly wondering how he felt in his new environment. And I also wondered about the circumstances that placed him here, three-thousand miles away from home, away from his family. But I left it at wonder; I didn’t want to pry.

It was two days before we started state testing, and we were just getting started on our introductions for our Be A Voice speeches. I asked him to think of a topic, encouraging him to list out things that made him mad, things that made him sad, or things that he wanted to change. I wanted him to find something for which there was some emotional investment, something that he needed to get off his chest. He agreed and he set to work listing out things that mattered to him. After a time, he came to my desk and shared his list. And while there were a number of things that could have served as topics, one in particular caught my attention for he had included it in all three categories. Rap. I asked him about it. He said, without equivocation, “New rap is trash,” dissing on mumble rap and overly explicit lyrics, lamenting the loss of lyrics that meant something, that told a story. I encouraged him, then, to pursue that, noting not only his knowledge of but also his emotional investment in the topic. He nodded quietly, agreed, and returned to his seat. As he did, it was the first time I noticed his tattoo on his right shoulder, Sandra. And I wondered. Who is Sandra?

And then we started testing; even kids who come to our school the day of testing, we have to test. I apologized to Jaheem for so abruptly throwing him–at least that’s what it felt like–into the mix. Welcome to Washington. Welcome to CHS. Here take this test. It will determine your future. If you don’t pass it, you will not graduate from high school. As many of you know, I already have issues with standardized testing, but this really rubbed me the wrong way; even so, there was nothing I could do about it. Jaheem had to take the test. He did. But he struggled, saying he had never done anything like it before. I empathized and told him just to do what he could. He was the first one done. It didn’t even take him two days, and I knew that he likely didn’t pass. I thanked him for completing the test, and asked him to read or work on his essay while the rest of the kids continued testing. He read some. He wrote some. And he slept a lot. And I let him. And as he slept with his head on his desk, his shirt sleeve slid up, and again, I spied “Sandra” on his arm, and I wondered. Who is Sandra?

Time got on and we finished testing. And I was getting to know Jaheem. I found him a polite young man, full of wisdom for one so young, and I was glad he was getting comfortable with me and the class. He didn’t share much during Smiles and Frowns at first, but now he was sharing every day, and we were getting to know the young man from North Carolina. One day he got to class early, and I noticed a twinkle in his eye, and he came straight to me, asking if I knew what “Build a Bear” was. I nodded. He continued. “I built one for my Mama, this weekend. I even recorded my voice saying, ‘I love you, Mama,’ so when she pushes the button she will hear me. I am sending it to her for Mother’s Day.” He was so proud, and I was pleased that he wanted to share that with me. Things seemed to be going well for Jaheem. And not for the first time, I wondered if Sandra was Mom.

And then the test scores started coming in. And Jaheem did not pass. He wasn’t even close. But now, only a month after he arrived, he found himself in a hole, at a deficit, for the hill to graduation just got real steep. He had been labeled and sorted. Just like that. And though I wasn’t surprised–very few kids can take it so quickly and pass–I was concerned for this young man whom I had gotten to know, who had showed that he was more than a score. But the data base would not, could not reveal that truth. So, I was truly bummed when I shared the news with him, trying to be upbeat about it, letting him know that there would be other chances for him to pass. But pass what? Pass an institutionalized, standardized measurement that claims to know the weight of his worth? What about the things the test can’t measure? Do they not count? Look at Jaheem’s rough-draft introduction below. Is there not more to this young man than a score on a test? Does he not seem to know the way of things? (I allowed the explicit language. Heck, I encouraged it. It’s authentic. Truth has to be).

“ just fucked a bitch i forgot her name “ is that what lil pump has in mind when he think of women in society today ? well how about when ugly god once repeated bitch throughout one of his songs repeatedly is that how he feel about females these days ? well i think that’s not how we should treat our younger generation of females or any females at all. A very inspirational rapper once said “ a women once brung you into this world why disrespect one – tupac shakur “ see the difference between these rap generations? I think the new generation of rap should slow down on disrespecting women that they claim they respect. They claim they respect there mother, their daughters, grandmas and aunts but yet still disrespect them by using words or even saying hurtful verses to disrespect any female.

 

I am not sure if Jaheem will be here next year. I am not sure if he will pass the test. I am not sure if he will graduate. But I am sure that he is more than a score. And I have tried to let him know that. And I think he knows, but in truth I think it’s not the most important thing in his life right now. He is here. He is not at home. I now know why. I think he wanted me to know the story, so he told me, but it is not mine to repeat, so I won’t. But I can share who Sandra is. I finally asked. “That’s my Mama, Sy. That’s my Mama.”

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…work on our voices, share our truths.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all. Sorry if the language offended. Hope you understand why I left it as is.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

The sun calls. Always has. Even when I was a student, this time of year was always a challenge for me. I just wanted to be outside. Still do. If not a teacher, I would be outside working with my hands. And on a beautiful morning like this, my tractor parked at the gate calls, and I want to work. I love work, and the work never ends, especially in spring when green explodes, and I cannot keep up, but I am compelled to try.

And it is a similar compulsion that drives my work in the classroom. It is work that is never done. We just run out of time, and the cycle sets again. With only twenty-two days remaining, we have what seems a lifetime’s work to get done, but we won’t; we can’t, yet we will do what we can to get as far down the trail as possible. That’s all we can do. And so, the kids will be digging in to get their speeches ready, and I will roll up my sleeves to share the load, and we will get there together, wherever there may be. And though it may look a little different for each in her mind, I hope they are all left with some image of the year that captures the struggle and the triumph of what our journey’s been, their own art of work.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…work (make art).

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all. I hope you all find art in your work.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

April was a blur.  There’s no other way to put it.  Yes, it’s common to hear many teachers say, “This year is going by so fast.  I can’t believe it’s already _____”. But due to a few factors, this past month seemed to speed by faster than Usain Bolt.  First, we had spring break. Next, it was a week of SBA (Smarter Balanced Assessment) Boot Camp. Then, with two weeks left we ended the month with the SBA state test.  During those ten instructional days some of my thoughts wandered into questions. Did I really teach this month?  Did I have any sort of impact on my kids?  Did I really do what was in the best interest of them, their growth, and their learning in my class?  As I watched our kids work day after day, I realized my thoughts were shifting from me and what I had done to them and what they were doing.

It seems that our students listened to the information, to the advice, to the tips-and-trick-of-the-trade we had talked to them about during our Boot Camp week.  While we didn’t really want to give up even more class time, having gone through the state testing cycle for a few years now we felt like we owed it to our kids to talk to them about what we’ve seen, what we’ve learned, and what we would recommend they do.  We did what we thought was best in hopes that they would remember and apply that information when the test started.

Then we started our designated two weeks of testing not sure if we’d need all 10 days.  In the past we haven’t. Even though our students only work on the parts of the state test during their Language Arts period, usually the vast majority were done by day seven or eight and the number of students needing more time was small enough that we handed those test tickets over to other test coordinators to decide a time and place for those kids to finish.  This year, as each day passed, we realized that we would need to use all 10 of those days. That’s what we promised the kids. That’s what they were (verbally) counting on. That’s what was best for them.

Despite the fact that after these two weeks the number of not-yet-finished may be slightly higher than in the past, I honestly don’t regret anything I did throughout April.  Why? My kids gave their best effort each day, took their time, used their knowledge and studied the resources I provided. And now we can get back to our “normal” and embark on a new and exciting path of discovery in our final 33 days.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

When I first started mountain biking twenty five years ago, I discovered a simple truth. It never gets easier; you just go faster.

Acknowledge and accept the pain. You’re growing.

When I coached cross country, I shared the same truth with my runners. It never gets easier; you just go faster.

Acknowledge and accept the pain. You’re growing.

When I first started presenting as an educator, I discovered a simple truth. It never gets easier; you just get better.

Acknowledge and accept the nerves. You’re growing.

When I teach my kids about presenting, I share the same truth with them. It never gets easier; you just get better.

Acknowledge and accept the nerves. You’re growing.

You’re growing.

We grow not in comfort, so we must seek discomfort if we want to grow. But discomfort need not be excruciating. So, I seek to make that which can be excruciating: public speaking, less so.

This is how I do it.

1. I give my kids multiple, low-stakes opportunities.
2. I give them a simple framework of presenting skills to consider and practice. Poise. Voice. Life. Eye Contact. Gestures. Speed.(PVLEGS).
3. I create feedback opportunities where their peers and I provide descriptive feedback that is grounded in the skills above. I ask presenters to select one of the PVLEGS components for us to focus on as an audience. We also provide feedback on what they did well, and we also give feedback on what they might consider next time.
4. I avoid using scales or metrics. We offer no judgment points. There’s no point (intended). Numbers here mean little, and, in my experience, they do more harm than good.
5. I refuse to grade presentations. And this is why. One, it is near the top of most lists of fears. Giving kids a grade does not make them less afraid. Give them experiences. Two, presenting is a skill that takes years to develop. I cannot–I will not–punish kids for being in a developmental stage. Three, kids don’t get enough practice, enough experience to be subjected to a summative score based on Ted-Talkesque expectations.
6. I provide relevant speaking opportunities. More often than not with our practice, we simply present ourselves and things related to our classroom community.
7. I encourage, encourage, encourage.

Last week, the kids composed and shared a Sappy-Student poem about our classroom community. They stood in front of the room and shared. I asked them to think about Poise and Voice. And that was it. I just wanted them to get up there.

This week, I have asked the kids to complete the statements below.

They will then share all of them from the front of the room at the podium. We had a chance to get started yesterday, and the kids rocked it, on both sides of the room. The presenters faced their fears, and the audience helped their peers. We gave them feedback on their selected skill, something they did well, and something they might consider next time. And, importantly, there will be a next time.

We continue today, and I have a front row seat. I have the honor of watching kids grow right before my eyes. And it’s almost too much. How did I get so lucky?

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…grow as speakers.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.