This is usually a semester-long project, so I am not sure how it’s going to go. As I shared with my kids, we will do the best we can with the little time we have left. And that’s only twenty-two days. But I wanted something that was not going to weigh too much at the end of this heavy year. We already have the heavy of burden of finishing with Elie Wiesel’s Night (still working on how we might do this differently this year), so I wanted something else to carry us through to the end. So, today, we will finish our move-forward plan with our Passion Papers.

I will share some of my kiddo’s work when the time is right. For now, I just want to move forward with my kiddos. Figure if we can just keep moving we’ll be okay.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Not much to say today. Hate to admit it, but I will. I am about burned out on blogging for the year. Five years of every day begins to weigh, and this has been a particularly heavy year, so the burden’s been a bit bothersome of late. Privately, I worry some about my energy going into a summer of book writing, but my hope is that after a few weeks off, I will find my legs again. And I will. But it’s gonna be a long last few weeks, and I would like to apologize in advance for my declining dedication to my daily posts. Thank you for understanding.

Happy Friday, all. Have a restful weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“It’s weird to read this.”

In an effort to raise awareness about Mental Health Awareness Week, I have asked my kids take our Kindness Cards to another level by writing themselves one each day this week.

A few of the kids asked if they could read theirs to the class. One young lady began and paused, sharing the remark above.

“It is weird but it shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be weird to express kindness privately or publicly. We have to normalize this,” I responded.

She shared. And a number of kids have elected to share all week. It’s gotten less-weird.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Slept late–a rare occasion for me, so I got a late start, and then, I got distracted thinking about time and student voice on Twitter. Out of time now, so I will just share my two tweets. Sorry.

Happy Wednesday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Have we become “us?”

How do we know? When did it happen? How did it happen? Why does it matter?

I am going to ask my kids these questions today for our “Better Begins: A Community Conversation.”

This is something I’ve recently begun. We do it right after Smiles and Frowns. I have the question(s) written on the white board. I ask the kids to begin the discussion with their neighbors, and then I bring us back together as a class to discuss. I set my timer for six minutes–to keep us honest. And for the most part, we stick to it, but if there is energy, we keep it going.

Today’s question matters a great deal to me. I am perhaps being presumptuous, but Smiles and Frowns tends to have the “us” effect, so as such, I anticipate a “yes.” But I want to hear it from them. More, I want to hear their responses to the follow-up questions. Most, I want to leave them thinking about the implications of creating community–now and later. I hope “us” becomes a community habit.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Sometimes I wonder, and sometimes I worry. Am I too flexible? Am I too lenient? Should I take a harder line with kids? Should I teach them the lessons of the real world?

The “real world.” I despise that term, especially when it’s used as a threat or an excuse for punitive practices, as if that releases the practitioner from all liability. They had no choice. The real world made them do it.

But they did do it, and in doing it, then, maybe they are only continuing the cycle. And maybe the cycle’s been spinning so long, we have forgotten where it began in the first place. Maybe it started with us. And even if it didn’t, maybe we are responsible for perpetuating punitive practices outside the classroom. Okay, probably not. But I do think “real” change can start with us. Maybe if we change the real, we can change the world.

Does the world shape education? Or does education shape the world?

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week. I hope you have felt even more appreciated this week. Thank you for all that you do. Thank you for your noble service to our kids and community. It is an honor to serve with you.

Happy Weekend, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Yesterday the kids and I decided to write and mail Kindness Cards to the kids who are quarantined. I am proud of our classroom community.

Kids really are the best humans.

And that’s the post this morning, folks.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Okay, it’s a bit corny, I suppose. But I’ve found frames matter, and sometimes, it’s the corny frames that work; it’s the corny frames that they remember. In a recent round of the feedback/response process, I discovered that my kiddos needed to take their theme statements a little farther down the road, so I came up with a vehicle to get them there: a tricycle.

Yes, it’s a little corny, but the kids were receptive to the idea, and it provides an anchor for our work. The kids will know what I am talking about when I say, “I think you need to hop on the trike, kiddo.”

And that’s the post. Busy day ahead for me. Thought I’d share something a bit more practical from the 180 Classroom.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“We got you.”

I let my kiddos know that I was stressed yesterday, that life and school were piling up, and that if I didn’t seem quite myself, then they knew it was me and not them.

It was me. And that’s one of the difficult parts of our job, when we have to face the days when our focus is not on them or us, it’s on ourselves.

It’s hard to turn off life some days. There’s not a convenient switch. And though we manage to compartmentalize it most days. Some days, it will not be tucked away. Yesterday was one of those days for me.

And so, I put it out in front of our work to let the kids know that I would not be myself. Once upon a classroom, I hid it, not wanting the kids to know, not thinking it was okay for them to know. But that, I now see, never helped–them or me. So, now, I let them know when these days show up. And I ask them to let me–us–know when they are experiencing such days, too. And they do. Often, they share such days during Smiles and Frowns, and the empathy lives and breathes among us as we face the days when life will have its way.

Yesterday life came looking for me, and I could not avoid him. So, I let my kids know. And they, in their own way, looked out for me. “We got you, Sy.” And they did.

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.