The water came on unexpectedly, pooling quickly ’round my ankles, rising relentlessly, flooding my hopes, drowning my dreams. And though I bailed water as a man possessed, I had to make the call dreaded by all captains, “Abandon ship!” We were going down.

I thought her seaworthy. I thought her well-planned and built. I thought her invulnerable to danger. I thought wrong, for moments after her christening, the sound of breaking glass still a faint echo on the salty air, trouble set in. We weren’t even out of the harbor before she began listing and then sinking, disappearing into the depths below.  A fail of titanic proportions.

Okay. Here goes. Things did not go as planned with the conferences yesterday. Though I believed I had come up with a solid approach to the midterm progress reports, I quickly discovered that my diligently-detailed plan was not really working out the way I had hoped.

First, it was taking way too long. And while I had certainly anticipated the time factor in the process, we were on pace to be done by the end of the term. Parents would get the midterm by term’s end.  Good plan, Sy. Solid. And what was vexing is that the time sucker was not a drawn-out discussion. I could live with that. The time sucker was the paperwork. In my efforts to create a comprehensive view of the kids’ progress to share with parents, I, in reality, created a convoluted mess, a monster that was sucking the life out of my most-looked-to moments with kids. Despair and doubt had risen, leviathans from the abyss, wrapping their tentacles ’round my spirit, dauntless no more.

Second, most important, the brief conversations that were taking place felt stilted and artificial. I knew it. The kids knew it. And with that, the listing ship, sunk quickly, prompting the call, and I enmeshed in my own mess, prepared to do what all worthy captains do, go down with the ship.

And for a moment, I resigned to the descent, the downward spiral into self-loathing and pity, surrendering to doubt and despair, finally free from the torment of my own tempest. But then, I woke the hell up and started swimming towards the light on the surface with shades of life boats bobbing above, filled with a crew still in need of a captain to see them safely ashore. And so, I rose. Pity party over. Resolve renewed. Ship was gone, but my crew remained. I would not abandon them.

So, I came up with a new plan. I threw the reports in the recycle bin, apologized to the kids for my fail, grabbed some notebook paper, and engaged the kids in real conversations about their learning. And soon, we were under sail again, moving steadily with the breeze of hope.

In the end, I made a mistake. In the end, I learned. I fall victim at times to worrying more about how it will look without than how it will work within. The reports looked impressive, and while they may have won over the doubting critic with their officiousness, they, in the end, were really just false fronts that didn’t fit. I am sorry that I lost sight. Next time, I will make myself walk the plank before compromising the vessel with my shortsighted schemes.

Happy Tuesday, all. Hope to find calmer seas today.

Back to business on this short week. I always call the time between Halloween and winter break the silly season because there are many breaks and interruptions. And while one part of me does like a little extra time off, another part bemoans the lack of consistency and continuity in the classroom. But, in the end, it simply is what it is, and we do our best with what we have. This week our “best” comes in the form of midterm conferences between the kids and me. I get to devote time to each kid, one of my favorite things to do–maybe one of the most important things I do. Of course, the trick is making the time in a world where time’s short, the task lists long.  I do my best, but it’s not always enough.

Here is a look at the week ahead.

1. Progress reports. Last week I offered  my observations on where I believe each kid is situated within the habits/behaviors outlined in the Super-Student Profile, ranging from “hardly ever” to “almost always.” On Friday, along with the preface that my judgment was based on observation/perception alone, I handed the Learning Logs back to the kids, asking them to consider my input and then provide their own in regards to the 15 profile components. Today, we will begin the process of sitting side-by-side and completing the Super-Student Standard form. We are targeting four standards, looking to evidence as indicators of both performance and confidence with the standards. Once complete, each will take it home to share with parents, returning it once signed. The plan is to finish by the end of the period tomorrow, but I have a hunch that it will bleed into next week. We’ll see. Time is less important than the chance to sit and talk with each kid.
2. My Choice. Mondays and Tuesdays have become “My-Choice” days. The kids are currently making progress with their blogs and speeches. Each week I quickly give direction and add elements to each project, and then I relinquish the role of leader and put on my supporter hat. This week, I will not don my supporter hat because I will be engaged with kids as we complete progress reports. I count on this time for that. The kids will have to be self-reliant this week.
3. The Book Thief. We watched the first segment last week and the kids began their team analyses of the segment, looking through the accuracy, perspective, and impact lenses. I will give them some time to complete their analyses before starting the next segment. My hope is that we can complete viewing and analyzing two more segments  this week. But, we’ll see. As with anything, this, too, takes time.

And that’s our week. Gonna go fast. Super excited to sit with kids today and talk with them about their learning. For me, it’s the best part of the journey.

Happy Monday, all.

Only 3 comments from the kiddos this week.  Had a good week in 211. Can’t believe it’s November. Have a great weekend, all.

“Hey, Sy, I love the speech idea because you are giving us guidelines on what we need to include, but you are also giving us freedom to choose what we want to write about, what’s important to us, and what we feel strongly about. This not only allows us to express ourselves and how we feel but also it provides learning opportunities to expand our knowledge and LA skills.” –Anonymous

Anonymous, I am glad that you see the benefit to the approach. I am excited to work with you all on your speeches. One of my favorite projects of the year.

“I think the other people who are complaining about the little tasks in your class need to calm down because this class has the least amount of work. Just because it’s a free A, it doesn’t mean it’s a free ride.” –Anonymous

Anonymous, well, not sure I could say it any better. May well be, it’s better coming from you anyway.

“Hey, Sy. I think that you giving us feedback on our learning habits through the Learning Logs is a great way for us to see what you think. For me at least, it was cool to see your opinion, and it made me realize you see and notice more about my learning style than I do, and that made me feel like you truly are doing your part as a teacher, and I appreciate that a lot! Thanks, Sy.” –Anonymous

Anonymous, I am thankful that my feedback made a difference for you. I am looking forward to finishing up the midterm progress reports with you all this week. Hard to believe we through the first quarter already..

Made a promise. Gonna keep it. But it’s not a “hafta keep;” it’s a “wanna keep.” I have done varied versions of Community Circle in my room for years now, and while some of my colleagues have openly suggested that it’s a waste of time, I have found it to be among the best teacherly decisions of my career. Getting to know our kids and giving them opportunities to know us and each other is not a waste of time. It may be one of the most important things we do. Rita Pierson suggests that kids won’t learn from people they don’t like. But even more, I believe, kids won’t learn from people they don’t know. Kids won’t learn from people who don’t know them.  And ultimately, kids won’t learn from people who don’t care about them. Caring requires knowing. As a teacher, I know to care, so I care to know. And so, I do. A few weeks ago, the kids and I settled on doing Community Circle on the first Friday of each month. I made a promise, a promise I am pleased to keep. But what my current kids don’t know is that I made a similar promise to myself long ago.

I wonder if they know

That I failed Marina.

Too late I learned

She wanted to teach.

Too late. For,

I had already placed her on

The 16-and-pregnant track.

 

I will not tell

That now

We have community circle

Every Friday.

I will never not

Know my kids again.

–from “I Wonder if They Know,” From Seed to Apple, 2013

http://www.k12.wa.us/EducationAwards/pubdocs/SeedtoApple2013.pdf#cover

 

These two stanzas are from a poem that I wrote as a requirement of the Washington State Teacher of the Year competition in 2013. All the competitors had to submit a story to the  From Seed to Apple publication. Unable to dredge up a Chicken-Soup-for-the-Soul story from my classroom, I instead wrote a poem revealing some of my less-flattering experiences, experiences of which I was not proud but were nonetheless some of my most important moments as a teacher.

And this moment with Marina, ranks among the top. She was not a good student. She was dating an older boy. In the classroom, she was a wallflower, and I let her fade into the background. And then, near the end of the year, in a community-circle-type discussion, she revealed–earnestly–that she wanted to be a teacher. Rocked my very foundation. It may have been the first time that she really made eye contact with me all year, the first time that she had said something for months, the first time I realized my monumental mistake. How dare I not know. How dare I script her story based on my perceived notion that 16 and pregnant was the fate in her cards. And it was then that I vowed to never not know my kids again. All my kids.

And while it’s been a promise only partly kept, for we do not do CC every Friday, I have kept the spirit of the promise as I have created other ways to create a “culture of knowing” in my classroom. Presently, we begin every period with a connections activity before we do anything else. It is priority one, and I join the kids in the activity every day. And today, the first Friday, we will have Community Circle. Promise kept. I will never not know my kids again.

Happy Friday, all. Have a fabulous weekend.

Solid day with the kiddos yesterday. Funny how our most solid days seem to be when I let the kids drive.  And while this has not always been a comfortable role for me, as we move deeper into the 180 journey, it is a role that I’ve come to relish more and more. Today we will start our viewing of The Book Thief, the first of three movies that we will watch about the Holocaust before reading Night. But before we begin down that path, there was some stage-setting to be done, and to that end, I gave the kids a QUEST yesterday.

QUEST

1. Using the 7 mini-articles and corresponding puzzle pieces, complete the Jigsaw activity for the history of the Holocaust.
2. Read the letter from the school board, and issue a team response. Write your response on the letter.
3. Review your work from Elie Wiesel’s speech “Hope, Despair and Memory.” Determine the central idea of the text and write it on your poster. Use one of the Statement Starters to begin your statement.
4. Attach all work to the poster.
5. If time allows, add images that represent the Holocaust.
6. As a team, decide when to take your brain break.
7. Posters must be complete by end of period.
8. Go!

The Book Thief

Today, as I mentioned above, the kids will begin watching The Book Thief, but not without some controversy. I am not sure if you can read the letter on the posters, but there has been some concern raised over using movies to teach the Holocaust. The concern stems from the “Hollywoodization” of the Holocaust and whether a not-always-historically-accurate approach to this dark period in history is worthy of the respect and recognition it deserves. Seizing it as an authentic learning opportunity, we will view the movies through the critical lens of determining their value in understanding the historical and modern impact of the Holocaust on the human experience. Ultimately, the kids will get to play a vital role in determining the outcome of this issue. It was rather remarkable to witness the level of engagement upon their reading the letter. Simply, they came to life, the lights on bright as they cussed and discussed the issue, offering their initial responses. It was amazing.

Driving question: Should we use movies to teach the Holocaust?

Critical Lens #1: Historical Accuracy. Here kids will look for “I wonders.” Essentially, they will keep tabs on historical accuracy by using the stem, “I wonder if _____________________ is historically accurate.” Then, later, as teams, they will take on the role of fact-checkers, determining the historical accuracy.

Critical Lens #2: Point-of-View. As the movies will present various points-of-view, the kids will analyze, both formally and informally, the Holocaust and the various angles from which they see it.

Critical Lens #3: Audience Impact. As members of a modern audience, kids will identify and analyze the director’s choices with various scenes, looking for the intended impact on creating understanding and empathy among members of an audience now 70 years removed.

Of course I want the kids to enjoy the movies, but I also want to establish that this most-familiar medium can also be a powerful teaching tool. But I want the kids to discover and make the case on their own. I just wanted to give them a nudge in the right direction, placing them where they belong: in the driver’s seat, making me a privileged passenger.

Happy Thursday, all.

“So far, you have not at all prepared me for the test at the end of the year or the real world.” 

While words may not hurt me, they certainly seem to keep me awake at 1 a.m. Above is a response one of the kids left on the optional, open-ended question at the end of the survey, which prompted them to share anything else they wanted me to know about their experience in 211 so far. Well, I asked for it, and I guess I got it. It stung yesterday morning, and it still stings today. Of course, I should know better than to let it upset me, and I do, but it’s funny how one negative comment can neutralize a host of positives. Funny, too, how such comments can seep so quickly and deeply into the cracks, the doubts of our foundation, rocking our world. Oh, it’s not the first negative I’ve encountered–there have been many over the past two decades, and now, as then, I will bounce back, clinging to the positives that surround me. But for a while longer, I will waver and worry. Can’t help it. It hurt.

Of course my wavering and worrying has made me analyze the comment over and over–yes, even at one o’clock this morning. I think what cuts here is that no quarter was given, no qualification–a kill shot, “not at all prepared.” I have grown accustomed to complaints about the Essay of the Week. It’s part of the teacher and student back and forth. Work is not always fun and it causes the push and pull between us. It’s expected. But this comment seems something else. And I wish I better understood. It seems something darker may be at play here, and it disturbs me. Is he/she angry at me, and this is a projection of that anger? Does he/she really feel that I have done nothing to advance his/her preparation or progress for the test or the world? Hmmm. I want to know. But sadly, I probably never will. I just hope that as we continue with our journey, he/she comes to see me and what I am trying to do in a different light. But I worry, with such a strong sentiment, that it may be too late. And that makes me sad.

But, I cannot linger here. I have too many others who not only depend on but also  seem to genuinely value what I am doing in 211, too many who need my energy and light. After all, we are currently in the mountains, and I have to see them safely through. No time to sulk. And so, I will regard the above comment for what it is. A perception. One’s part of reality. Not the reality of all. And so, instead, I will cling to and celebrate a separate set of words, words that help diminish the sting and shadow, words that usher in the light and delight of what I get to do: make a difference. Wish it were true for all.

“I enjoy my time in this class, it does more for me than you can realize.”

Thank you. Your words do more for me than you can realize. So much more. Thank you.

Happy Tuesday, all.

And then, on the horizon, we beheld mountains.

Heading into unfamiliar territory this week. Time to take a turn along a path with more ups than downs. And while I do hold a map with some roughed-out directions, it inspires little confidence in the possibility of finding an efficient route. So, it is at times like these that I cling to my mantra: Do. Learn. Do Better.

This Friday marks the midway point for the first semester. And beyond the fact that I still can’t believe that much time has passed already, the map I hold indicates that I pledged to provide a progress report at this time, a report created in collaboration with each individual as to his/her progress at this point in the journey, a pledge I aim to honor. The desire to do it is not the problem. In fact, I am excited to venture forth along this path. The problem rests in how to do it. How am I going to collaborate with 89 kids over the next week to capture the essence of their growth, and still move us forward in our journey? We cannot simply pause. Winter is coming, snow has already dusted the higher peaks, and we have to get through the passes, to pause is to perish. With no desire to perish in the mountains, I have a plan to get us through. And while it may very well not be the most efficient route in the end, I will chart our way, hoping to make the trek easier next time. Here is the plan.

1. I have already adapted the learning logs to create a collaborative approach between each kid and me.
2. My initial plan was to meet with each kid, completing the report side-by-side. But I fear that this may not be feasible, taking too much time. So, I will pre-complete, my part of the form this week while the kids are working. I will have them done by the end of day Thursday. Then, on Friday, during class, I will have the kids complete their parts, and I will recollect them when they finish.
3. Then, next week, we will take the “pre-completed” reports and compare our responses, face-to-face.
4. Some responses will likely be left blank by me until I have the opportunity to speak to the kiddo. I know my kids pretty well, but there are some things for which I may have insufficient knowledge (especially the profile items), so I will wait on those items until I have their input.
5. As far as where are responses differ and our perceptions don’t match up, we will seek to find a middle ground, each supporting his or her position. The key here is collaboration. I am not trying to “get” the kids. I am simply sharing what I see, and what I see may be inaccurate, so I welcome points of disagreement as entry points into conversations about progress and perception. This step will take most, if not all, of the second week. even though official midterm grades are due sooner.
6. And it is here that I am fortunate. The “grades” are done. They are in Skyward, and they will be sent home. But the progress/growth reports will still be in the works. They will take time. And with 180, I have the freedom to give myself permission to take the necessary time, time to create that which I hope the kids, parents, and I all find value in at the end.
7. The co-completed reports will then go home for parents to sign and return.

And that’s the plan. Two weeks to get through our first set of mountains. Hope it’s enough. I am eager to get underway with this part of the project. I will no doubt learn a lot from this process, but I love to learn. I will share some anonymous, completed reports at the end so you can see what they look like.

Have a magnificent Monday, all.

I discovered that the survey I shared yesterday could only be opened by Cheney School District employees. So, for those who couldn’t open it but were interested, I copied it directly into this post. Sorry for an inconvenience yesterday.

Morning, all. No official comments from the kiddos this week, so I thought I would share the student survey that I will give to my kids this coming week as part of my midterm check in. I hope the link works. I will share results when I get them. Have a great weekend.

https://docs.google.com/a/cheneysd.org/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScfvWOP3nbQc81cDgqwnw7VVmSzDAWJ72Df0mL79Y-yFVEFIA/viewform