Once upon a classroom (my first year), I was gonna teach my kids responsibility with my no-late-work policy. The world worked on time, and by damn, I was gonna teach ’em. Seventh graders. Twelve-year olds.

Fortunately, this faulty fad faded quickly. But I had not the wisdom to jump to where I am today (no penalties); I had to first fiddle with the full gamut of point and percentage penalties–I tried them all. And slowly but eventually, I wised to better ways, discovering commitment, not compliance was the way in the land of learning. I ask my kids to commit to our work because they find value in it, and as such I do not and never will again penalize practice. But that does not mean I have arrived. In the Project 180 classroom, there’s always a better around the bend. This morning, I took a stroll around the bend.

I will start this next as we begin the new quarter. I will ask all work to be “turned in” on the due date, so there will be no late work. Of course, this does not mean that it will all be complete work, but for the work that’s not complete, I will require a why. I will ask kids who’ve not completed the Learning tASK to provide an explanation in the private comment of the Google Doc for why they did not do/will not do/have not done the work. But doesn’t this start to move back into the realm of compliance? I don’t think so. “Why” is a commitment–for them, and for me. Who’s to know what I might learn from their why’s? Do they feel like the work is irrelevant or too easy? Do they need help? Are they in the clutches of their anxiety? Are there life circumstances that I am not aware of? Are there why’s that I haven’t even considered? Regardless, I want to know why. I can work with why, but I can’t work with empty spaces. And maybe–just maybe–the kids will come to view the work differently when they see they have to chance to regard and own their own choices. We’ll see how it goes. If it doesn’t, then I’ll just venture around the next bend.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

This is probably a longer post than what it’s going to be, but since I am getting a late start this morning, it will have to suffice for now.

I am experimenting. Again. Always. I sense a better around the bend, so I am wont to give chase. So I am.

I have never really been a fan of “I can” learning target statements. I know, how could I not be a fan of can? Everyone’s a fan of can. So, what’s my prob? This. Arrivals and ends are suspect to me. And “I can” suggests an arrival, an end. But I have found these statements to be less “endy” than they really are. “I can.” For how long? Will they be able to Monday after they leave it all on the test on Friday? Will they be able to next year with a new teacher? Will they be able to in different contexts? Will they want to? “We learned that last year.” We’ve heard this from kids countless times, but we seem to discover most times, that they “can’t.” So, maybe they never really could. Maybe they hadn’t arrived. Maybe they were just continuing.

And there’s the experiment. I have long thought and talked about learning being an experience. Even here, I (though I have not during the pandemic) would share at the bottom of my posts a “Today’s Trail” section, a version of my experimental experience targets.

“Along today’s trail we will experience…”

Learning is experiencing. So, with that in mind, I have recently (just this week) begun using “I am” statements with my kids when they talk about their learning experiences.

Fittingly, I am using the present progressive (“to be” + -ing). Kids begin their reflections with “I am…” and then they continue with what I have come to collect and call “Learning Language” (see below).

I am still collecting. It’s in the fledgling stages right now, but for now, this is the progressive path I am presenting to my kids as they learn to talk about their learning.

I have so much more to say about this, and I will, but I am out of time today. Sorry.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

This morning marks a milestone moment for Project 180. This is my 1100th post. Five years ago, when this all began, I never expected that my daily dives would take me this far. And though my daily dives have not been as deep of late (shorter, less-substantive posts), I am proud of my work with Project 180. And as I begin this last little leg of year five, I am eager to devote my full attention to the book that it will become this summer. Till then, though, I will continue to dive and dig for discoveries along the way.

Thank you for all the support. It’s meant much to have you on the journey.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I didn’t do any school work over break. Not a bit. And I am–as off as it may sound to some–proud of that. Once upon a classroom, I could not have managed such a thing–at least not without guilt. There, after all, is a lot to get done. And with third quarter ending this Friday, there is A LOT to get done in a little bit of time. But that no longer pushes or pulls me, and I don’t (as best I can) let it lure me into a guilt trap. Oh, it still tugs a bit, but not enough. I need my break. So, I take my break. And I just pick up where I left off when I get back, for it’s always there when I get back. It doesn’t go anywhere. Will I get everything done this week? Nope. I have already this morning identified some things I can let go, and so I will. And that’s been the key, I think: learning to let go. Wish I had learned it earlier in my career. Sometimes doing nothing is everything.

Happy Monday, all. Good to be back.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

A break. A time to breathe. A time to be. Spring break! Yipee!

Happy Friday, all. See you after break.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Somewhere there’s a teacher who probably needs to know that we, too, have been, are, and will be the teacher somewhere who needs to hear we are not alone. So, this morning, on a bit of whim, I started #WeToo on Twitter.

I, you, we are not alone. We have to remember that.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

But how long can they drink once we’ve showed them the water?

I am not a fan of the horse-to-water proverb use in education. Never have been. It puts too much–maybe all–on the kids. It presumes that we have done all that we can, and the rest is up to them. But have we? And what does that mean? We gave them an assignment and some directions? Is that where our “leading ends? Seems it should go on. Seems since we are holding the proverbial reins, our responsibility goes beyond and continues after we show them the water. Have we ever asked ourselves why thirsty kids won’t drink? What if they need to hang out at the water hole for a little longer than we planned? Will we wait? What if they’ve drunk before, only to get a mouthful of sand as they discover the mirage they’ve been led to?

Yes, mirages. The work that’s not relevant. The lack of continued support and feedback beyond assignment and direction. The penalty points. No opportunities to redo, retake, or correct. There are many mirages in the School Realm to which we lead our kids. Kids will drink, even deeply, if we lead them to water. Heck, we may even discover that if we let loose the reins they may splash around and play in it.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Morning, all. Wanted to share that I will have the honor of speaking at this year’s Code Breaker Inc. Power Summit. I am humbled by this opportunity to join so many awesome voices in education. The conference information is below. Only $20 for an entire weekend.

I will be discussing the power and promise of “breaking better” by daring our differents and braving our beliefs in better. Please join us on April 24-25.

Power Summit 2021

Happy Tuesday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

It’s just an experience. I have come to the place where I see our work as an experience. And while that may sound overly obvious, I am not sure we all see or sell it simply as this. But here, in the 180 classroom, that’s what it’s become. It’s just an experience.

In the 180 classroom, we have a daily Learning tASK, and when the time is right, we will have a Learning Check. And though each serve a particular purpose, tASK or Check, they are still experiences from which we have an opportunity to grow. The former, the Learning tASK, is simply our daily practice. My hope here is that kids find meaning and value as we work our way through our curriculum towards the latter, the Learning Checks, which are more formal opportunities for me to engage with kids in the feedback/response process for our priority standards. And from there, by design, I tell the kids that the worst that can happen is better. And shouldn’t that be the point of all experience? Better. What else would/should there be? If kids don’t have a chance to get better, what’s the point? And that is my design decision in all that we do. How will this help kids grow?

Each experience is an opportunity towards better. And if it’s not, then we don’t do it. More, because I cannot possibly account for each kid in each experience, I give them room to decide for themselves. And that’s why I do not make our daily Learning tASKs worth points. They are asks to which they are invited to respond, but they get the freedom to find value and relevance in the ask. So, do they do the work, do they answer the ASK? Yes, they do. Not all. Of course, not all. I have not discovered some utopian universe, but a great many do the work–choose the work, and that is all I can ASK. The answer is up to them.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I have to. I have to trust kids to accept the responsibility of their learning. I can’t talk about commitment and not walk commitment. So, I give them room in their responsibility, believing that responsibility–true responsibility–isn’t something someone else delivers but something that we discover–on our own. I am not a teacher of responsibility. Life has that handled. I offer opportunity. I provide possibility. I serve support. This is at the heart of the 180 experience. This is the room I create for kids as I seek to engage with them in authentic learning.

How did we get here, indeed? An oft cited concern to giving kids “room” is that if we don’t hold them accountable with penalties and rewards (basically grades), then they won’t do; they won’t learn. And that has just not been my experience. Kids will. No, they don’t do everything, but they didn’t before either. And everything they do or don’t for us doesn’t always matter as much as we’d like to believe. And that’s why I have made our daily tASKs (daily practice) choices. Kids choose to do it. Or they choose not to do it. It’s in their hands. I have offered them an opportunity. I have provided a possibility. And I am at the ready with support. That’s the room. And now that they are in that room, next is up to them. And I just have to trust their steps.

Trust I must. And so I do. Folly? I don’t think so. Not in the end, their end. And they will know best when they get there.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.