“Sy. Sy, I did it. I wrote the whole thing in like 10 minutes…

IwasabouttofallasleepwhenIhadanideaandIsatupinbedandtypeditoutonmyphone, and…

When Meg finally took a breath, and I was able to process the whirlwind that came from her mouth, I discerned that she had finally found her topic, that she had finally gotten her introduction done. Meg never gets things done early, and she rarely gets things done by my deadlines, but she always gets them done. And though I do know the value of meeting deadlines (and the arguments against giving kids too much leeway), I also know Meg. I have spent the last 155 days learning with her. And in that time of learning, I have learned Meg. Meg the student. Meg the person. This is what I know.

She will not be placed into a compartment.

She is a fierce competitor.

She has a heart as big as the moon.

She will not stand for injustice.

She is well-spoken, but never soft-spoken.

She is a mathematical whiz.

She is a brilliant writer.

She does not like school.

She is from a broken home, but she is not broken.

She can convince you of anything–or at least she tries.

And, she will give you 100% if you give her the freedom to do so.

 

The freedom to do so. That is what I have most learned about Meg. Try to rein her in, and she will flee. Try to restrict her to the beaten path, and she will tromp off into the woods. Meg has to be Meg. So, I have let Meg be Meg. I have given her the freedom and granted her the grace she needs.

No, she is not the model student. She talks too much. She “wastes” time in class. She shrugs off most practice. If one were to base my effectiveness as a classroom teacher by observing Meg, I would fail. But if my “failing,” allows kids like Meg to succeed, then I will fail again and again.

Learning is messy. Learning is complicated. Learners are complicated. They do not fit neatly into the compartments that we imagine, that we force. And so, it is I who have learned this year. If we are not learning as much as the kids from our 180-day experience, then we are missing out. But learning is not simply noting. Learning is acting, allowing, bending, understanding. Meg taught me that.

She stayed after yesterday to read her intro (more like essay–it was at least 300 words) from her phone. She was only going to read the first couple of lines to give me a taste, but she couldn’t stop, and I didn’t want her to. I was transfixed by her light, and I just let her go, let her glow. And she did. And, of course, as I would expect knowing Meg, her speech topic: Live Your Life. Yes, Meg. Live your life, kid. Live. Your. Life.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…practice presentation skills: eye contact.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The world listens.

The world connects.

The world waits.

 

Yesterday, I had the humble honor of presenting at the 2nd Annual WATAC Spring Conference. The theme for the conference was Vision and Voice: The Future Is Now. Along with Lynne Olmos from Mossyrock, I was asked to present on the power that social media can play in elevating our voices as educators. I began with sharing the “why,” and Lynne provided the “what” and the “how.” Below is my believed “why of it” that I shared with award-winning educational leaders from across the state.

I stand among visionaries.

Giants.

Redwoods.

The tallest trees in our forest.

Those who sought the sun.

Those who grew because you had to.

You had no choice.

Your vision compelled your climb.

And as I look across the canopy,

I am inspired by the the hope each of you bring to education in our great state.

I am honored to be in your presence.

I am humbled to brush branches and wrap roots with you.

We need your vision.

But…

Vision without Voice is just…well, vision.

We have to release our vision to the wind,

so it may carry our voice.

We have to share our brightness,

so it may help light the way.

And so, I believe…

As visionaries, we have if not a responsibility, then an opportunity to share our voices.

We are not here by accident.

There is something in us, each of us, that placed us at this conference this weekend, in this room today.

We did not receive our awards, we did not assume our roles as leaders for doing things the same as others.

We are here because we believed better was possible–always possible–and we have all, in our own ways, big and small, made an impact in education.

Someone caught our voices on the wind. And they listened.

And so then, when we share our voices, we make possible our vision. We have to share. We have to.

Because when we do…

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.

Today, we have opportunities to share our work in ways we could not have imagined then. Tomorrow,we will have opportunities to share our work in ways we cannot imagine now.

I never imagined. And it all started with a dare.

The world listens.

The world connects.

The world waits.

It really was a great experience to share a bit of my why, and some of the Project 180 story. I hope more educators will elevate their own why’s through social media. I want to give a big shout out to readers Elise Foster, Abe Moore (Paige, Amber, and Lynton), Mary Wade, and Melissa Turenne for providing me with your testimonials about my work. Thank you. Always. Thank you.

I also want to thank my co-presenter Lynne Olmos for shouldering the what and how of our presentation. I am so glad we finally met. And finally I want to thank Alecia Sing and the rest of the WATAC leadership for giving me the opportunity to present. Thank you.

It was a great weekend. I got to hang out with some awesome educators, including National Teacher of the Year Mandy Manning, along with other ESD 101 eduheroes Alecia Sing and Jeff Wehr. Humbling.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…write, conference, and revise speeches or Passion Papers.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

She couldn’t stand, so they stood for her. They stood by her. She was last to go yesterday, last to share her Sappy Student Rhyme. She modeled it after Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood,” titling it, “Sy’s Class.” This did not surprise us. She is a huge T Swift fan, sharing yesterday during Smiles and Frowns that the concert she is lucky enough to attend is only 21 days away. More, she sings Taylor’s songs to us all the time. And so, we were surprised when Savannah got up there and froze. She could hardly talk. She started to shake. She tried. She sat down and cried. Caught in a crisis moment, the kids looked to her, to me, and then to each other, and six of her peers came to the rescue, stood for her, stood by her and helped her deliver her poem.

It was a proud moment for our us, and it reflected exactly what we have worked so hard to establish this year: community. Ours is a place where the divide is less wide between teacher and student, and among all. A place where we are just humans learning and growing together, sharing in our struggles and successes. It is a beautiful place, a place full of many beautiful moments as kid after kid shared their Sappy Student Rhymes, honoring the people they’ve stood day after day. I was gushing with pride. I am so honored to learn from and with these awesome kids. They fill me with wonder and hope. Kids really are the best humans.

 

Savannah did not meet the requirements. She did not stand. She found no poise. And she had barely a voice. But she did not fail. We did not fail. And as the SBA scores have begun to roll in, and I have the undesirable duty to share with a small number of kids that they did not pass–their learning and worth reduced to a single data point, I think about what we learned as a community yesterday. I think about the things that we cannot capture in a standardized test or a grade. I think about the things that the kids will carry with them into their futures, and I am proud of the experience I have built with them this year. I am sorry that some have to have that diminished by an outside force, by a blind lens that does not, that cannot look into, that cannot see them. And for them, my hope is that our experience together shields them from such things as they move forward and carry with them the things that are not simply measured. It is that which I hope holds weight, that which I hope registers on their scales. The only scales that matter.

Proud of my kids.

Today’s Trail

Different day, today. I am on an interview committee, so I will not be with my kiddos. Heartbroken that we are losing Maddie Alderete, team member and P-180 contributor. But life calls and pulls us in different directions sometimes. Will write more about it later, but not sure we can replace her. Damn, Life. What ya go and do that for?

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

How do you get a roomful of kids to face their fears? You trick them.

Few are not afraid. Few do it unless they have to. So you have to trick them.

Yesterday, I tricked my kids. And before they knew it, they were up in front of the class, practicing public speaking. And today, the trickery will continue.

At the end of the month, the kids will deliver their “Be a Voice” speeches. As you can imagine, they–like most the rest of the world–are not thrilled to speak publicly. It is among the top fear for most people, and they at this age are no different. So, to help make the experience less awful, I strive to get them up and practicing presentation skills, facing their fears.

To begin, I asked them to write a “sappy-student” rhyme about our classroom community. I, then, asked them to deliver their poems to the class. A few were ready to go yesterday, so we started. Their poems are below. Today, we will finish up.

Beyond just reading their poems, I am asking them to consider and practice two specific presenting skills from our PVLEGS approach. Poise and voice. Of course, in the end, they won’t leave my class Ted-Talk ready, but my hope is that they leave my class better aware of the necessary skills for presenting effectively, and, too, maybe–just maybe–a little less afraid of public speaking.

Poise

Voice

Life

Eye Contact

Gestures

Speed

I am so proud of what the kids created and shared yesterday. It warms my heart that they have come to value what we have worked so hard to create this year: community. Means everything to me. And it was no accident. No accident at all. It was the plan all along. Special group of kids, these. Special.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…celebrate community and practice public speaking.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I am not enough.

I want to be.

I strive to be.

But I cannot be.

There are times

when the job

is bigger than I

When the road’s

too long

When the mountain’s

too high.

When my wings

won’t lift.

When my wings

won’t fly.

But I try.

I try.

Even when

my wings

won’t fly.

I try.

I am not enough.

Humbling thoughts for me on another sleepy, slept-in-again Wednesday morning. Yesterday was a rough day. The mountain was too high. My kids’ seen and unseen needs too great, and I felt not enough. I felt a fraud, facing a reality that contradicts the ideal I daily present in room 211. And I want you to know.

I want you to know my struggles beneath the shine. I want you to know that the “road to better” is less than the idyllic peaks that frame the front page of my blog. The sun does not always shine. The snow does not always glow. No. It is often covered in clouds of doubt. And the snow slows, numbing my senses, restricting my resolve. And I fail. And I despair. And yet…

I try. And as I try, I again find the sun peaking through, and I face another day. And today will be better. But better takes a toll. It exacts a price, and some days the cost is greater than I. But I try.

I wanted you to know.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…engage in a fun, get-out-of-your-comfort-zone activity where the kids will compose their own “sappy rhymes” about our community and share them with the class in an effort to practice presenting. Cannot wait. I will share details tomorrow.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Thanks for being here to know. The good. The bad. And the ugly. It helps that you know. Thank you.

Do. Reflect. Do Better

 

As the days dwindle and motivation wanes, I try to find ways to keep my kids engaged. Not a power broker, I have to turn to inspiration and influence as my means to keep my kids moving, to keep my kids learning this time of year. But even inspiration requires some practical measures along the way. It is not always enough to give a rousing reach-for-the-stars, share-your-truth speech. For many, it also requires a modicum of accountability. So, I oblige. To be fair, my kids are pretty dang motivated most of the time, but they are human, and sometimes humans need a nudge now and again to get things done. So, yesterday, I presented this simple approach to keep things focused and moving. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple record of productivity and progress.

On a sheet of paper, I just had my kids record the following.

Today, I…

Tomorrow, I will…

Productivity Rating: 5 4 3 2 1 (most to least)

They will complete this at the end of each class. I will collect and distribute each day. I am not going to read them away from the kids. I am not checking up–or beating up–on them every day. I am not assigning any points. It is not for me. It is for them. I am not the one with a “Be-A-Voice” speech or debate and a Passion Paper due at the end of the month. They are. But I am the one with a 128 kids who need my help crossing the finish line at the end of the month. And since my help comes in the form of conferencing with kids on their writing, I need to be able to give my full attention to each, which means I only have time to share in the “ownership” of one kid’s learning at a time; the rest need to fully own theirs the rest of the time. So, as such, I am asking them to hold themselves accountable via the “progress record.”

Yesterday, I dubbed May “you MAY work” month. The kids know what they have to do. I am giving them time and help to get there. But that is not enough. They have to take the responsibility for their ownership. It is not my learning. It is theirs. So, I am asking them to track it, to adjust and modify it as necessary. So, come June, when they have to present and share, they are ready to shine. And they will.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns.

…make progress with our writing projects.

…reflect on and record progress.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Tuesday, all. It was so great to be back learning with the kids yesterday. Lovely beings, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

 

Morning, all. Wanted to share the link to the podcast I did last night with the guys from Human Restoration Project. It was a great opportunity to sit down and discuss–in depth and at length–something that is near and dear to my heart: the importance of relationships. I admire the work that Chris and Michael are doing to restore humanity in education. We speak the same language, and I am honored to have crossed their path. Here’s the Link.

Back on track today. Testing, for the most part, is done, and now we can reconnect and resettle back into our routine. It’ll take us a day or two to get back our momentum, but we will find it again and move forward with our learning. Finally.

Friday, most of the kids were done testing, but as others finished up, kids hung out in my room. I walked in to discover that Parker had taken care of writing the day’s agenda on the board. I am so proud of him for a few reasons. One, he is so in tune with my way of doing things. He pays more attention than I ever imagined, catching not only the words but the tone. Two, he took the liberty to do what he believed needed to be done. I am proud of his initiative and ownership. Could not have done it better myself, Parker. Thank you.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns. Lots a catching up to do.

…resume work with our “Be A Voice” speeches and debates.

…dust off our Passion Papers.

…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

 

 

And this year now

We play again

Some will lose

And some will win

 

Minus a few stragglers, we will cross the state-testing, finish line today. And Monday we will get back to a place of normalcy. Finally. Been a long two weeks of stressed, mind-numbing silence as kids have worked diligently on something that will mean little to them in the end. Oh, kids with 3’s and 4’s will be labeled “Career and College Ready,” with the caveat of bypassing placement tests and landing in credit-bearing English courses in state colleges. And kids who meet the state’s minimum cut score will be able to graduate in two years, but beyond these baby carrots, there is little to be gained from this biggest of sticks in their educational experience.

And for me? I don’t know. It gets my attention. It is the most public of measures in my world as scores appear not only in the paper but also on the “State Report Card,” not to mention taking center stage in our district’s PLC work. So, yeah. It gets my attention. I will be judged regardless of where folks fall on the standardized-testing issue. If I succeed, it either doesn’t mean much–because it’s just standardized data, or it means much–because it is standardized data: the data that is disregarded, or the data that is embraced. If I win, I lose. If I lose, I win.

But beyond that minor irritation, I find little that is useful to me in my classroom. I will never have these kids again. So, the data are not useful. Yes, I know the “look-for-and-and-respond-to-trends” argument made by those who defend the data, but each kid, each group is different, and when I get the data back, the kids will have already moved on. They’re gone. And I have found little benefit from making generalized decisions about generalized data from standardized tests. I wonder what the cost-benefit analysis of state testing would reveal. Is education really benefiting from the huge cost of state testing? I don’t think so, not if most educators regard–or disregard–the data we get back as I do. I know no one–in the classroom, who uses the data as a primary source for making learning decisions in his or her classroom. They do, as I do; they look to the real primary source for guidance: their students, who are in their classrooms right now. I think we are wasting a lot of money, and while I hate to make this about money, I am not convinced it’s really about anything else. Lots of money is being spent, and someone is winning, but it’s not education.

Sorry, not sorry, for the mini-rant this morning. That aside, happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better. 

 

“and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.”

 

Words don’t always come, especially on a sleepy, slept-in-a-bit morning like this one. So, this morning, I will turn instead to a favorite poem and an image that reflects what I see when I see my kids. Bright, brilliant lights on the horizon. It’s a wonder I am not blind after so many years of exposure to such light. But I can’t help but look into the light. It is what I seek. It is what I see. And that matters. For when I think of the power I possess in my perceptions of my kids, they become, at least in my 55-minutes-at-a-time world, what I regard. And I think, then, this carries implications for all teachers. Kids will be what we see. If we see them as dull, empty canvases to be filled, then that is what they are. If we see them as brilliant, unique works to be appreciated, then that is what they are. Perception matters. The next time you are in front of your kids-this morning–pause for a moment. What do you see? It matters. Every day.

Next Time

Next time what I’d do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I’d stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.

When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I’d watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.

And for all, I’d know more—the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.

~William Stafford

Happy Thursday, all. May you be blinded by brilliance today.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.