Yesterday a mystery showed up in 211. Five bags of groceries were delivered during 4th period, and though I believed I had some thoughts on whom the mystery provider might be, I was wrong, and I still don’t know who perpetrated this anonymous, generous act of incredible kindness. Because of you, hungry kids will have food for days, and when kids aren’t hungry, they can better focus on their lives and their learning. You just made a huge, immediate and long-term difference in the lives of some kids who will hopefully have an opportunity to give back and pay forward in their own future communities. Kindness is a contagion, an infection, an epidemic with no cure once it grabs hold. Thank you for starting, spreading the bug. I am honored and humbled by your actions, and I am proud to share this community, this home with such a selfless mystery hero. Thank you.

Feed Me

There have also been some other deliveries made that have provided sustenance over the past few days in 211. Last week I pledged that I would create a feedback box for my kiddos, so they could reveal an insider’s view of Project 180, a view that I promised to publish–good, bad, or ugly. Well, the comments have begun to trickle in, and I will proudly publish them on Saturday. However, I wanted to let one out of the box early, for I wanted to show you and the kids that my giving them a voice also means that I am giving them an ear. My ear. I will listen. Yesterday, I listened.

“I love this new system, it makes learning much more fun and relaxed, but I am not the biggest fan of the essay of the week. I love the idea, but it would perhaps be better if they were assigned about mid-week, and we had the weekend to work on it.” –Anonymous

I shared this anonymous comment with all my classes yesterday, seeking additional input on the essay of the week. After establishing that getting rid of the essay was a non-negotiable, I opened it up for discussion, discovering that many kids shared the same sentiment, revealing to me that their weeks are so crammed full that if they could have a weekend, it would make their lives a little less stressful. So, together, we decided that now, instead of the assign-on-Monday-and-collect-on-Friday model we would adopt an assign-on-Friday-and-collect-on-Friday model. Works for me. Works for them. Of course, what I’m still struck by is the fact that though I will take it at anytime with no penalty, the kids still get worked up about getting stuff in on time, which I believe ultimately is a testament to their commitment to their own learning, to their own growth. They know they have the A, but they persist. How can I not be struck by that?

Keeping the A

As I have shared, there is only one possible path to losing the A in 211. The kids’ A’s will turn into P’s (passes) if they and their parents don’t sign and return the incremental progress reports. They don’t have to complete them, but they have to sign them, signifying  that they are taking ownership of their learning. And while the progress reports will take various forms over the course of the year, the most common will be the two-week learning logs on which the kids will provide a self-assessment and reflection. Today the kids will complete their first learning logs which are comprised of 15 habits/behaviors of learners, indicating where they are on the scale, supporting their positions with evidence. In addition, the kids will capture three learning experiences from the past few weeks and relate the story for each, revealing the experience’s impact on their growth as learners. They will then share all this with their parents over the weekend and return it to me signed by them and their parents on Monday. Can’t wait to see how this goes. Can’t wait to read their stories. I will share some with you next week.

Wow. What a week. Thank you for your continued support. I am humbled. Happy Friday, all. Have a fantastic weekend.

Ten Hut!

Had visitors yesterday. Unplanned. Had no idea they were coming. Oh, I learned late that the new superintendent would be in the building yesterday morning, but I did not know that he and one of our assistant principals would stop by and stay for nearly a half hour watching the learning in 211. Of course, visits are not unusual at CHS. In fact, they are quite common, and while my room is no stranger to administrative walk-through’s, it was the first visit with Project 180 underway.

As such, always happy to engage others in conversations about the goings-on in my room, I jumped at the chance to talk with Rob and Ray about our learning community. The kids were already on one of our daily “Quick Quests,” in search of “Sweet So-What’s” and “Thoughtful Themes,” so that freed me up to share some of our story. Of course, it also shed light on the the engagement and activity of my kids, kids working and learning with no grades dangling in front of them, kids who were working to learn. Indeed, I could not have been more pleased with the real, unrehearsed buzz of my busy bees as I talked about them and our journey with the bosses. Perhaps worth pointing out is the fact that the new superintendent Mr. Roettger had no idea about Project 180 and the fact that he was in a room full of sophomores with guaranteed A’s for the year, a fact that I did not reveal till near the end of the visit, proud to point to my kids, energized and engaged, not for the sake of a grade but for the sake of learning and growing. Proud moment.

Connections

So every day in 211 begins with an entry task we call “connections.” It is an intentional activity designed with a few purposes in mind. One, it’s a consistent start-at-the-bell part of our day. The kids know to have their writer’s notebooks out at the bell. Two, it is daily, low-stakes writing practice, an opportunity to move ideas to paper. Three, most importantly, it gives us an opportunity to learn about our community as kids share their responses with various members in various ways. Here is the basic process.

1. A writing prompt is projected on the screen (some fun, some serious).
2. Kids get 2 minutes to write (continuous writing, not writing to get done).
3. We share our writing (partners, teams, whole class, etc.).

Nothing fancy, but something important to building and maintaining our classroom community. Yesterday, I added a twist. I joined. To make it more novel, I used a six-sided die to roll and determine which group I would join for the activity. There are five groups, so if I rolled a one, I would go with group one, a three with group three, and so on. A six would make it my choice. Really, it was my plan to join all along, but I kept letting clerical duties (taking attendance) get in the way of more important matters–connecting with my kids. Attendance can wait. Connections first.

Today, We Write!

Excited to dig into the work today, for today we don our writers’ hats and practice the craft of writing. Using the hook resource sheet I provided them with yesterday, the kids will practice all 18 hook types. I was so pleased to find so many of the kids truly grateful for the resource, with many exclaiming, “This is exactly what I needed.” Music to my old ears.

And so, today, we write, not for the sake of the product, but the power of the process, a process designed to make my kids believe they are writers. Of course, some already have that belief, but for the ones who don’t, it gives them a chance for now to pronounce and live by the words, “I am not a writer…yet.” Yet. Ne’er a more important word existed.

Happy Tuesday, friends. Thank you for your continued support.

Learning Is a Circle, not a Line

Opportunity. Practice. Feedback. Performance. Feedback. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. This, I believe, is what learning looks like.  Or should look like. But, in truth, this is not the path that it generally follows in many classrooms. And while it’s no one’s fault, it’s everyone’s fault at the same time. We have believed for too long and continue to believe on too many levels that coverage, not competence is the beacon on the horizon. So we chase the light, but as the light dims behind us in our persistent push forward, too many kids get left behind. After all, we must get to the the next section by tomorrow; we must get to the next chapter by the end of the week. Must we? And, if so, at what cost? What if the kids aren’t ready? What if they just needed a little more time, another chance–or two or three–to perform proficiently? Does this approach foster growth mindsets? One of my seniors wasn’t so sure last week, calling BS on the growth mindset movement.

“If our school values growth mindsets, then why don’t all teachers offer retakes or corrections on tests? Is “yet” really possible without an opportunity to try again?”

On one hand, I am thrilled that our discussions on mindset have resonated with her. On the the other hand, I am troubled by the fact that any inspiration she found will likely to soon give way to apathy, will to soon reinforce what she has experienced all along: learning has not been about growth; learning has been about movement, getting through the curriculum. So what do we do?

Well, slow down for one. But more than slowing down, we have to re-imagine what learning is. It is not about how much stuff we cover in our time with the kids. It is about how much growth our kids experience in our time with them. That is all that matters. No, I will not cover everything. I can’t anyway. There simply is not enough time or space. So, I am going to be very intentional about what I choose to do with my kids to get the most out of our time together. Thus, the 10 Super-Student Standards, the 10 ways in which my kids will grow this year. I’ll hang my hat on it. But the standards really are only ways to specifically articulate measurement of growth, growth towards THE goal this year. Everyone improves. Some will make huge gains this year. Others’ gains will be more modest. And a few, sadly, will grow very little. Regardless the outcome, the process will be such that I encourage and support each along his or her way. It’s all I can do. But, in the end, if they leave better readers, writers, thinkers, then that’s not so bad.

Above, I shared our current work, our current process with using hooks in writing to engage readers. While it is not in and of itself a super standard, it is part of the larger scheme for my students to build capacity and proficiency as writers, a scheme for growth that requires feedback, support, practice, and continuous opportunities to demonstrate progress towards mastery. The student work above was the kids’ first chance to show me where they are currently with writing hooks. And while the two examples above hit the target, there is still room for growth. Always room for growth. In truth, most of my kids did not hit the target on this first opportunity. But now, through feedback and support, I believe many more will the next time. The resource sheet above was constructed in response to my discovery that the kids do not have enough hook strategies in their baskets, so I put together a resource sheet along with a focused practice activity (not pictured) to support their next opportunity, an opportunity that they will experience again this week as we continue to focus on hooks. Opportunity. Practice. Feedback. Performance. Feedback. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. A circle, a record that I’ll keep spinning. Again and again.

Happy Monday, all. Sorry for the windy post this morning.

Had dinner with a lovely lady last night, a lady who’s been my witness and support for twenty-three years now, a lady without whom my personal and my professional life would crumble irrevocably, a lady I am lucky enough to call my wife. Not only does she help me stay centered  in my outside-of-school life, but she also helps me find a center in my school life, especially in my crazier times, and no other time has been crazier than now with Project 180. A teacher herself–the best I know, she lends both ear and advice to my schemes and dreams. And so, as one might imagine, our date-night conversations inevitably end up at teaching and learning as we cannot avoid this shared passion, a passion to which we often give too much, even in our “us” moments. So, of course,  last night’s engagement was no different. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes and talked…about school. Yes, hopeless romantics.

It all began innocently enough. I just uttered something about wanting to find a way to solicit more feedback from my kids with 180, and so, what began as a mild flirtation with an idea turned into 20 minutes of smoldering passion, an embrace without pause, an end with supreme satisfaction, a climax of clarity…

Okay. Just to be sure, I am still talking about school. Anyway, we bounced ideas back and forth, ultimately arriving at a simple plan. A feedback box. Simple. Nothing original. Nothing fancy. Starting next week, I will make available a box for kids to anonymously share their thoughts about their experiences with Project 180 with a promise to publish whatever they share: good, bad, or ugly. I have no desire to be anything other than transparent with 180. So each week I will share what the kids really think with the rest of the world. I am excited by this opportunity to even more intentionally listen to and learn from they who matter most, my kids.

Thank you for humoring me and allowing me to share the more intimate moments of my journey. I tried to keep it PG, but one can only edit out so much, else the sizzle fizzles. Thanks for keeping the sizzle alive, Sher. Love you.

Again, thanks for humoring me in this lighter look at the project. Sorry for the tech snafu earlier this morning. Happy Friday, all.

Ten days behind us. Here are three “from-the-inside-looking-out” thoughts on the progress of Project 180.

1. Influence is greater than power. I no longer have the power of grades to wield and wave in front of my kids. In many classrooms, either directly or indirectly, grades are used to motivate students academically and control them behaviorally.  I no longer brandish that sword. I am armed only with the connections I have made with my students and the culture I have created with them. Throughout my day, I often find myself wishing for witnesses (outsiders looking in) to observe our learning community, to see that kids can and will perform academically and manage themselves behaviorally in the absence of traditional grades. But it doesn’t happen by accident. It comes down to what it’s always come down to–with or without grades. Relationships. Establish this and all else will follow.

2. Kids will do work–hard work–that is not for points. I have more “complete” practice in my grade book at this time of the year than I ever did in the past. Granted, the kids still know that I report completed practice to parents and that may play a part in their motivation; additionally, they may still not trust that they have the freedom to not do the work if they choose, so they do it still either out of habit or fear. Either way, at present they are doing the work I give them. Yesterday, they diligently dove into their writing and reading stories not only working hard but also worrying about the outcome, seemingly intent on creating quality, not just doing it to get done. Fingers-crossed, with a knock on wood, I believe I’m on my way to bucking the belief that kids won’t work without grades. Perhaps worth noting, my seniors, with whom I still maintain a traditional grading approach, have far more missing assignments than my sophomores with gifted A’s. Of course, there are a lot of factors to consider and it is not a direct comparison, but I am getting more out of my sophomores, much more–without grades to motivate them. Just sayin’.

3. Stressed brains aren’t our best brains. There’s certainly a research base out there to support that stress impairs learning. But I don’t really need science to back up what I already know. We should not use stress to force kids into compliance, to create a fear of failure if we want them to learn best. That is not to say that all stress is bad. Performance anxiety presents itself even to the most prepared. It’s normal. But that stress is generally born out of one’s desire to do his or her best. Yesterday, there was indeed a measure of stress around the room as kids attempted to make a first impression on me with their writing. As the end of the period approached, stress was on the rise as it became evident that not all were going to finish. So, I stepped in, pushing the “pressure-release valve,” and promised more time. Why wouldn’t I? This is important. I want them to make their best attempt at the challenges I place in front of them. And, if and when I can give more time, I most certainly will. Teaching is not only about challenging kids; it’s also about supporting them. Real challenges require support. Support alleviates stress. Less stress equals better learning. Another worthy note, I asked the kids how they thought things were going with the approach, and the number one response was less stress–in and out of class. Music to my ears. Truly.

   Overall, I am very pleased with the progress of the project. Thank you for the support. Knowing you are watching–even if from a distance–helps me sustain the necessary strength to manage the self-inflicted stress from this mad journey. Thank you. Happy Thursday.

Today, we roll up our sleeves, grease our elbows, and get to work. The kids will complete their reading and writing stories; they will also have time to work on their essays of the week. Early on, I made a promise to them that I would build in class time for practice, so, currently, my plan for delivering on my promise is what I am going to call “Wednesday Workdays.”

And though I can’t always give kids all the time they need in class for practice, I will–when I can build it in intentionally–carve out time for them. One, when my kids are working in class, I am there to help. Two, it communicates that I am willing to give to get. It says, “This work is important. It is important enough to use limited time together. I am willing to sacrifice this precious resource.” Three, it acknowledges that my class is only a small part of my kids’ days, a small part of their worlds. It is not their whole day or world; they lead crazy, busy, stressful lives. If I can help reduce their stress, I will. I do. Happily.

Of course, the work serves a monumental purpose. It produces the necessary opportunities for feedback, both during and after. And that is my most important job in our shared experience. Learning requires feedback. But it also requires a realistic approach. I cannot read or give feedback on all the practice that my kids do. And I tell them this. Case in point, I introduced the Essay of the Week this week. See below.

Essay of the Week #1

Growth Mindset v. Fixed Mindset

Requirements

1. Legible
2. 250 word max

Topic: Growth Mindset v. Fixed Mindset

Audience: Teacher

Purpose: Express and Reflect, Inform and Explain

Prompt: Express and Reflect about a time when a fixed mindset got in the way of your doing something. Explain how a growth mindset may have changed the experience.

Assessment Focus: Hook

3	Hits the Target: ·          The hook effectively gets the reader’s attention and creates context ·          The hook is present either explicitly or implicitly throughout the piece ·          The hook resurfaces in the conclusion, creating a “full circle” ending
2	Near Miss: close to target but does not effectively meet all criteria, needs minor work
1	Far Miss: misses the target, needs major work
0	Completely off target, unable to assess

A couple of things to point out. First, I set a limit on the maximum number of words. 250. No more. It’s practice. I don’t want this to be overly burdensome on the kids, and I tell them that I only want them spending 15-20 minutes on it. Second, I tell them that it has to be a minimum of three paragraphs. Third, I tell them that I will not read the whole essay. I can’t. There’s not enough time. If my 100 kids all write the maximum, then that is 25,000 words. Not gonna happen. Doesn’t need to happen. Because, fourth, I tell them that I will give them an assessment focus each week for which I will provide feedback.

Please note the rubric. I no longer give criteria for anything other than the standard. It is the target. They hit the target or they miss. If they miss, it is either a near or far miss, and it is from there that I give the necessary feedback to turn their misses into hits. I have found this approach to be both efficient and effective. It takes a manageable amount of time, and it provides an opportunity for focused feedback.

I am excited to see what my kiddos produce today, to see how they respond to working for growth versus working for points.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Well, finally, a full week ahead. With the relationship and mindset foundation down, it’s time to start building, time to start learning. But I have to approach learning differently this year. With A’s in hand and armed with choice, my students will likely not respond well to business as usual. I have to find ways to lead my learners in ways that are more engaging and relevant. I have to do different. Here are a few things that I am trying as I attempt to re-imagine learning in 211 this year.

QUEST

Last week, in keeping with the whole journey/adventure approach, I came up with  the idea of the “quest question,” a question that provided the purpose and pursuit of our learning experience for the week. By the end of the week, it had evolved into the “QUESTion,” and now, after some further thought this weekend its current manifestation will be the “Learning QUESTion(s).”

Here is the process. I will post the question(s) on the board for the week. It will first serve as an entry point into the learning as I ask teams to consider and discuss the question. It will then be followed by what I have come to call a “Quick Quest,” which will generally be a ten-minute team task without my help or input. Next we will do a number of learning activities over the week that deepen and reinforce related skills and concepts. Finally, individually, the kids will answer the “Learning QUESTion(s)” in their weekly reflection.

Here are my goals for the approach. I want learning to be an experience. So, each week I will hope to make the experience more engaging with the novelty of the QUEST approach. In terms of learner-content interface, I want there to be an investigative initial experience with the content without my help, prior to my input–a quest of sorts. Perhaps, above all, I want there to be purpose to what we are doing. Daniel Pink suggests that motivation has three components: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. I have given the necessary autonomy. I am jumping mastery–for now, and I am providing an opportunity for kids to discover purpose. Of course, we will come back to, and work hard towards, mastery. But I believe mastery might be better placed, and better achieved, after purpose. The “what and how” of learning seem to come more readily after the “why” has been established.

This week’s Learning QUESTIONS.

• Why do we write in sentences?

• How can our learning stories help us understand our own mindsets? 

• Can we prevent injustice, or is it an inevitable circumstance of society?

Today, we will begin our pursuit of the first, “Why do we write in sentences?” The “Quick Quest” will take the following form.

QUICK QUEST: What is a sentence? As a team, you have 10 minutes to create an informational poster. You have one sheet of paper and an assortment of markers. GO! Sorry, I am not available for help.

I will then step back and see what happens. At the very least, I hope they come up with a definition. But, I hope they also consider exploring and reporting on the different sentence kinds and types, etc. I will encourage them to be resourceful, which means that they use their phones, which is not allowed without permission, but since I am “out of the room….” At the end of the ten minutes, the kids will share their findings with the rest of the class. Through this approach, I am not only activating prior knowledge, but I am also getting an opportunity to diagnose where my kids are with sentences, which helps inform my approach, my instruction. This allows me to learn from the kids before they learn from me. Too often, we teachers assume that teaching is talking and that learning is listening, but I’ve come to believe, it’s more than this alone. It’s complex. It’s messy. It’s different. And that is why I am choosing to do different.

Of course, I am not inventing a new wheel here. I am inventing nothing. This stuff, to varying degrees is and has been out there. I am just re-imagining how to roll the wheel on a new path, a path no longer guided nor restricted by grades. I cannot change it, if I don’t change it. Do different. It might be the difference.

Happy Monday, all.

The project continues. The work goes on. The journey resumes. Turns out my fear was more imagined than real yesterday, and the storm steered north of 211, never really materializing, passing quietly by, clearing my sky of mindful worry. And while never enough parents attend open house, those who did seemed open to my madness, generally accepting my ten-minute, whirlwind sale of Project 180. Of course, ten minutes was not enough, but for all that was left unsaid, I offered a final guarantee, intimating that no matter the struggles along the way this year, I would see their kids safely to the other side, a solemn vow to protect the charges in my care. And with that, a handshake, and a smile, I sent parents off to their child’s next class, hoping they found confidence in my words and comfort in my person. Hoping.

And so, with that test behind me, the work does go on. Yesterday in 211 we continued our exploration of the growth mindset realm. I presented the iceberg illusion to my kids in an attempt to get them to think about success differently, to see beyond the shine above the surface, to consider the depth beneath, to discover the unseen in their and others’ successes, and for that, the iceberg metaphor works perfectly. We also talked about how success without persistence, failure, sacrifice, disappointment, good habits, hard work, and dedication is really not success.

This morning, as I was preparing to write this, I had an aha moment. I thought that their gifted A’s, their shiny symbols are much like the iceberg of success, the iceberg of illusion.  They appear to be success on the surface, for in the education realm they are widely accepted as the mark of success, but we all know that not all A’s–like all successes–are equally earned. Some are cheap imitations, easily won. Others are grand achievements, hard won. When I gave the kids their A’s, I told them that they had to live into it, that they had to discover and give it meaning. And now I feel I have found the elements necessary to help them write the stories of their A’s: persistence, failure, sacrifice, disappointment, good habits, hard work, and dedication. Indeed, for as was mentioned earlier, success is not success without; so, too, an A is not an A without. To remind them of the depth that success requires, I taped the iceberg graphic to the top of each desk. A daily reminder of the struggle that is success.

I also taped the egg with the words, “So much depends on the word ‘yet,'” to the top of their desks. If there is one word that captures the essence of a growth mindset it is “yet.” And so, we began adopting the vocabulary, developing the language of our learning community yesterday, agreeing to the following.

I can

I can’t

I can’t yet.

Taking it further, we also discussed that in learning, though the ultimate outcome is “I can,” “I can’t yet” should occupy the bulk of our conversations as we make our ways to the A, through the necessary land of growth mindset, an area that we will continue to explore today. Yes, six days in, we are still working with growth mindset. No, we haven’t read any stories yet. No we haven’t written any essays yet. They will be there when we get there. I just want to make sure that when we do, that the kids do so with success on their minds–real success, full of disappointment and hard work and all the other necessary ingredients.

Before I go, I wanted to share and celebrate a small success from 211 with you. Those skeptical of the gifted A raised as one of their objections that if I gave kids A’s they wouldn’t do the work. Well, yesterday I collected the first practice, and roughly 90% of my kids completed the work. They didn’t have to. They chose to. Makes me wonder about the power of autonomy and its role in motivation. I am not suggesting that 90% will happen every time, all the time, but I am suggesting that choice has power, choice gives power. I will continue to give my kids choice. I will continue to give them power.

Happy Thursday, all. Clear and sunny today with a chance of learning. No storms in the forecast. A traveler’s delight.

Whether we think we can or we can’t, we are probably right. This is the message that has stuck with me since 7th grade. It originated from the poem “The Man Who Thinks He Can,” which my 7th-grade wrestling coach read to us before every match. It resonated with me then as a young boy struggling with himself and the world, and it resonates with me now as an old man facing many of the same struggles–indeed, life doesn’t change; we just get older. But. This is different. It is no longer about an uncertain, awkward, self-conscious boy trying to avoid humiliation on the mat; it is about a man bearing the responsibility of helping young people find themselves and their ways in the world. And so, I seek to give what was given to me so long ago, the gift of “can” through attempting to instill in my students the power of a growth mindset.

This week in 211 I will immerse my kids in the idea of a growth mindset, setting the stage for their roles as learners in the days to come. I have already taken the fear of failing out of the equation by gifting an A, a move which may prompt some to ask, then, what’s the point? Fair enough. A look at the graphic above would suggest that by doing so I have already eliminated the first three components to learning: challenges, obstacles, and effort by taking grades off the table. So, yeah, what is the point?

This. Project 180, by taking grades off the table, is not making learning easier; it is attempting to make it more relevant, more meaningful, more personal. The kids are no longer chasing a grade; they are building themselves. I don’t believe I need grades to present challenges, to lay down obstacles, to elicit effort. I will provide these opportunities every day in 211. Of course, I will have to be ever mindful of the types of tasks I create because kids now truly have a choice. I am betting on commitment as a better motivator than compliance. “Failure” is still an option. But now instead of failing the class, they can only fail themselves. I want it to be about them. It has to be about them. I want them to succeed not in search of a grade but as a means to better themselves. I want them to be selfish in this. I am gambling on it. In fact, I have placed my whole professional farm in the pot.

Though, in some respects, the stakes are high, my goal through Project 180 is to make the stakes more real. For each kid. It is my earnest hope that each and every kid sees this year’s experience in 211 as a journey to growth, a journey not without challenges, obstacles, or effort, a journey that helps them discover power of “can.” Sometimes learning is about more than content; sometimes learning is about attitude, and even if it doesn’t matter all the time, I have come to learn, in life, attitude matters most of the time. This week we will begin building our growth mindset attitudes. The journey begins.

Happy Tuesday, all. Thank you for tuning in and offering your support. Together, we CAN change the world. Now, that’s the attitude.