“I’m glad I asked.”

For a teacher there is a certain satisfaction in the question asked. It conjures our craft. It is a spoken spell that animates action. It breathes into our being. And from it, we rise.

Yesterday, one of my self-paced kiddos asked a question that in the end saved her some unnecessary work. It would not have been too much, and it certainly would have done no harm, but it wasn’t necessary. And while I am glad that our interaction saved her some labor, I am more glad that we reached an early milestone of understanding in our shared journey: the power of the question.

In my experience as a teacher, it is the question that gives meaning to the serve and support aspect of teaching. If teaching is responding, then questions are necessary. Our learners have to ask questions. But, also in my experience, I have found that kids don’t ask enough questions–for various reasons. And so, without, my ability to serve and support is diminished. So, I seek the question. I invite it–enthusiastically.

And this year at a distance, I have asked for the “ask” more earnestly than ever. It is so hard to know when the screen separates. I need to know. I need them to ask questions.

Yesterday wasn’t about saving a young lady some extra effort. It was about elevating and substantiating the power and purpose of the question. She asked. I responded. We built trust. I trust that she will now ask when she needs help. And she, I believe, will trust that I will respond, that I will honor our agreement,

“Let’s agree that it’s always best to ask”

Always ask so I may always answer. I can live into that.

Happy Tuesday, all. Stay safe and sane.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

And then the smoke showed up. Sheesh, it really is one challenge after another. And though I am trying to remain stoic and see such things as opportunities to find the better from the “obstacle,” this latest challenge has been a bit of a setback for me. I rely on the weekends to get outside, to get some necessary fresh air and exercise, but our having hazardous air conditions all weekend due to the numerous wildfires here in the West put a damper on my routine.

And this morning, things still haven’t changed. In fact, we are actually doing “distance learning” from home because the buildings’ air quality is unsafe for occupancy in our district. If we were in a normal school situation, school would have been cancelled today. A “smoke day.”

So, we will have to manage from home today. And we will. There are folks experiencing far more challenging things out there, but the addition of just yet another challenge to face and endure takes its toll on all of us.

Happy Monday, all. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Yesterday evening I tweeted the following.

To my longtime followers, this view is nothing new. I have been trying to change the conversation in order to change education for some time now, especially around the topic of grading. It’s why I started Project 180 five years ago when I abruptly interrupted the conventional experience in my classroom by giving all kids an “A” on the first day. And from there, both in my head and in my classroom, the conversation has never been the same.

Here is how I will continue the “grading” conversation with my kiddos this year.

Of course, the conversation is a little tougher this year with our current distance-learning model, but it’s still at the center of our work. It’s just gonna take students and parents a little longer to learn the lingo. But I am committed to the conversation that I believe has to happen to change the system. We can change the script.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I fear I feel a tremble. Slight. Subtle. But it’s there. I feel it.

I feel it in the frantic, frenetic moments of preparation before the day’s online launch, as I cross my fingers, hoping that nothing goes wrong.

I feel it from the disconnected distance across the screen, as I weigh their eyes and mouths, wondering if I am only imagining their presence.

I feel its palpable pallor as I pass my colleagues masking their mouths and misery, our common company.

I feel it in my foundation as I wake to the wind on the day’s horizon, threatening my stoic stand, sure that it’s only the “obstacle in the way.”

I feel it. I fear it.

I face it. We all do. We have to. We are teachers. What else would we do, could we do? So much depends on our steady stand as the winds swirl around our house of cards.

I feel a fear. And though I will put on my mask today for my kids, my colleagues–myself, inside I feel a fear that we may get swept away. There’s a wolf on the wind.

Sorry for the downer post this morning, all. Struggling some. Struggling more to know that my struggle is shared. And as much as I want to say and believe, “we got this,” there would be little conviction behind it this morning. So, I won’t.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Why do we make it so complicated? Seems it should be simpler. So, I am trying to make it simpler. In truth, I have been trying for some time, and this year, I am trying again to simplify that which we tend to make overly complicated: teaching and learning. Here is my latest iteration of simplification.

I will share this with my kids today as we begin our journey, as we begin our work. And as we do, I want them to understand that our work is really as simple as coming together to find better. We have a destination in mind. We are going to try to get there. I will ask them to do some things along the way, so I can support their progress. And, in the end, we will get where we get.

Overly simple? I don’t think so. In fact, I am betting on it, and it’s a bet that doesn’t really feel all that risky. We are just humans coming together to learn and grow. Seems simple enough. So it’s the path I aim to follow this year. And, of course, I will share what I learn right here.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns

…discussing how we will simplify our learning journey this year.

…reflecting on and discussing what motivates us as individuals.

…considering and critiquing others’ views on motivation.

…engaging unfamiliar words in text.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Wednesday, all. Thank you for being here.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Good morning, all. Day four but really day one since I will finally be with kids today. Well, from a distance anyway. It’s gonna be different. It’s gonna be a challenge. But, as I said in my post last week, “It’s gonna be okay.”

But, make no mistake, it’s gonna be different.

Most notably, for me, will be how we connect. As many , connections are huge part of my approach, and using platforms like Zoom will be a challenge to this essential component in the 180 classroom. It will be a challenge for me, for them, for us. But together we will face it, and daily we will get better at it. As such, here are the expectations that I put together for my kids, for our community.

They are not terribly original in sense of the “what,” and I know that. They serve the general purpose of such interactions across the expanse of Zoomland. However, I did try to frame them in a way that fit my idea for the community I long to create. As most know, I am no fan of compliance, preferring commitment from my kids, so I tried to present them in a way that created some context and comfort for my kiddos, and from there I hope we really do achieve the 4 C’s.

Community. Communication. Commitment. Connection.

That’s no different. These have always been pillars in the 180 classroom. What’s different is how we will go about creating them as we journey forth into the land of Zoom.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…meeting and greeting.

…framing our journey.

…sharing some of our story.

…learning the value of mistakes (I will model that well today, I am sure. Hey, it’s for the kids)>

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Glad you are all here. It helps to know that I will not be alone on this strange trip. Thank you.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Hey, all. Not even sure where to begin. For a time, I was not even sure I was going to begin. But I am here, and I have begun. Even if it’s three days late, Project 180, Year 5 has begun.

And what a beginning. Of course, it’s not the one I had hoped for as we wrapped our strange time up last spring. I had hoped, then, that we would be back to normal by now, but that hope never happened. The world is still strange, and I still find myself at a “distance” from my kids.

Here in Cheney we have started the year with a hybrid-distance model. Students and families could select a teacher-paced or a self-paced path. I only have three classes (90 minute periods), but we will get a year done in one semester. I will have the other half of my kids next semester. Two of my classes are teacher-paced. The other class is self-paced. This week, we have started the year with three days of orientation meetings on Zoom. But I didn’t realize (in the strangeness) that we had officially begun; thus, the delay on getting started with my Project 180 posts. Sorry that I wasn’t on top of it. But as I have said, and as you know…well, things are strange.

But, we’re gonna be okay. And I believe that. Things are gonna be tough for awhile, but I am not going to let that ruin the year before it’s even begun. In 180 fashion, things will get better because that’s what we do, and even though we will struggle in the days and weeks ahead, we will struggle forward to “better” for our kids. I believe in better. I believe in us. And that’s why I know we are going to be okay. And that is the message I tried to send to my kids in the letter below.

And the journey has begun. And, as always, I am grateful that you have joined me here again this year. I am sorry I was absent all summer, and I am more sorry that I didn’t start on day one. But I am here now.

Have a great day, all. Hope you find a better.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Once upon a time.

The End.

It seems some pages are missing. I looked for them. I even tried to write them, but try as I may, I couldn’t really recover the nearly seventy pages missing from our story. And it was going to be such a great story. Terrific twists and tantalizing turns. Complex character arcs. Dynamic dialogue. Captivating climaxes and rewarding resolutions. But it never came to be. Our story cut short.

Oh, we tried for awhile. We really did. We tried to make it up as we went along, pretending and playing that is was the same, but our imagination did not endure, and we soon realized that our story no longer fit the script. So, we abandoned it. We had to. And the story, without our consent was written for us, for the play had to go on, and it did, but it never really felt like our story, and here at the end, it seems an unauthorized account of something sacred, a tarnished tale.

But like it or not. It’s what happened. It’s what played out, and as we look back and learn from this time, it is my earnest hope that we hold dear to the truer tale from our beginning and let go the stranger saga at our ending. It’s still our story. It’s just not the story we could have written once upon a time with a far better end.

Happy Friday, all. Thank you for being me with me this fourth year of Project 180. I thought to write a different story here, too. Thank you for limping through this time with me. Next year is supposed to be the end of my five-year commitment to the Project, and I hope it lends itself to a more satisfying story and conclusion than this year. Have a wonderful summer and please stay safe. Thank you for being here. I will be back in the fall, and I hope you will join me again. Take care.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Sixty Eight. Heading to my classroom today for the first time in over three months. We have scheduled times to go in (to maintain social distancing) and prepare our classrooms for summer. I imagine it will be like stepping into a ghost town. I don’t remember how I left things. It will be a strange moment in an already strange time. And as I begin to hear about re-opening regulations for next fall, it may be stranger times are yet to come as the ghosts of classrooms past haunt and hint of what may never be again. I miss what was. I really do.

Happy Thursday, all. Man, I am scraping to find material to post about. Sorry. Glad tomorrow is the final day. Stay safe.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Day Sixty Seven. Morning, all. WiFi’s being a little wonky this morning, and I haven’t a lot of patience. Beyond that, I really am ready to take a beak from posts. So, I am going to wish everyone well today, and I will limp through two more days of posts. But it’s time to call it a year.

Happy Wednesday, all. Sorry I couldn’t muster a post this morning.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.