Doing establishes a place and time for learning, for reflecting. Learning is forward. As I suggested in yesterdays’s post, it’s an important action for an important effect: growth. But, for one to grow, one has to know where and when one began.

The image above was a recent attempt for me to visually frame reflecting for my kiddos, especially in regards to their doing leading to their learning. When they do, they begin the 180 cycle. They have established place–there and here; they have established time–then and now, both of which create the context for the learning forward cycle of looking back and forth between the place and time of their (continuous) doing, which I try to sell as learning (as growing).

We do to learn. We do to grow. And I believe reflecting is the most meaningful measure of growth. Learning is personal, and I think it becomes deeply personal when we get to a place where we feel like we own our learning. So, that, then (again) is the frame I offer my kids.

It is their learning. Though, sadly, most do not believe this. They think that school is being done to them, that it is something out of their hands, that it is about complying, not committing.

I am trying to change this by putting it in their hands, by getting them to do–not to comply with me, but to commit to themselves. Thus, the cycle. Do to Reflect to Do Better.

To my kids:

Do for yourself so you can see for yourself where and when you are in your learning.

We can’t reflect until we do. We can’t do better until we reflect. That has to be the way forward as we just keep moving through the Do-Reflect-Do Better cycle.

At the end, if they didn’t do, they didn’t reflect; they didn’t do better. They didn’t grow (as much as they could have). I want them to grow. But more, I want them to want to grow–for themselves. And I want them to see that for themselves, in themselves, of themselves–in their own reflections.

Tomorrow, I will wrap this up with DOing BETTER.

Happy Sunday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I don’t/won’t fail kids. For any reason. And I have my reasons, not the least of which is my not being so sure it’s not I who failed (the kid). For my longtime readers, this is not a revelation. I have not been quiet about my refusing to fail kids in a system that has long failed, still fails, and will continue to fail kids. No F’s in the Project 180 classroom.

So that leaves the D. D is for diploma. D is for dummy. I’ve heard both (and others). The former is technically true. One can get a diploma with straight D’s. The latter is…well, dumb. Regardless of the fourth letter’s storied past, in the 180 classroom, D has come to mean “didn’t.” Didn’t Do. So, didn’t (couldn’t) Reflect. And didn’t then (have the chance to) Do Better.

Simply, didn’t learn (as much as they might have).

DOing

There is value in doing. Action is an important cause to an important effect: growth. In the classroom, doing is an important part of learning. Seems obvious. Seems simple. Seems. But its value often escapes the obvious and confounds the simple. Because, as we know, kids, for various reasons and in various ways, don’t do. I call it the Do Dilemma. If all kids did, and if all do’s were true, we’d face no dilemmas with grading, with reporting, with learning. But didn’t “dilemmifies” our work. It has. It does. It will. So, then, I am compelled to build a better.

better Builder: How do I get my kids to value doing in my classroom?

I head back to the kitchen.

Here’s my latest batch of better for doing in the 180 Classroom.

First, the frame.

Dear Kiddos,

I don’t want you to do to do in here. I want you to do to grow. I can help you grow. I am trained for it. I am experienced in it. I’m actually kinda good at it. I can. If you do. That’s where I meet you in your learning, which is where my teaching begins. I need that from you. I need that for you. So, I will earnestly encourage you every day to do to learn, to grow. It’s why you’re here. It’s why I am here. Your doing leads to my doing leads to our doing. We do to learn.

It is this or something like this that I will share with my new group of kiddos this coming week for framing our work. I want doing to have value greater than a score in the book. So, to that end, I make minimal the numerical value. I record and report not doing (Learning Checks) as a .6 in Skyward. I do not record or report practice. I only report and record the things in which I engage with kids in the feedback-response process.

Of course, that does not mean that I don’t promote practice. I do. And I am very intentional about making sure there’s a clear connection between practice and performance. I want the kids to discover that there’s value in doing the practice as it prepares them for the performance. And that is why I ask them to do it. And “ask” is a key word here, for that’s really what it is insofar that practice is not something I make them do; it is something that I ask them to do, which is why I call them Learning tASKs. In order for a do to be true, kids must commit, kids must choose. They must choose to take responsibility for their learning. And so, I try to provide a frame for that home in which they must live–for the entirety of their lives.

.6, yes, that’s 60%. Yes, it’s a D. And, yes, that’s as low as I go. That’s the floor of the learning frame I provide in my room. And if it so happens that by the end, a kid didn’t do, then I will record and report that as a D, for that’s what a D means in my room. Of course, kids and parents will know that on day one, not day forty-five, and from day one, they both will come to understand more clearly its meaning as I engage with them, not in the deficit of not doing to fail, but in the concern of not doing to learn.

If they don’t do, then I can’t help them grow. That will be my constant and consistent messaging to parents, which begins with the letter D, which the will see in Skyward along with the key:

.6 = Invitation to do

And with that, I will end Part One, Doing.

Soon, hopefully tomorrow, I will get to Part Two, REFLECTing.

Hope everyone is well. Good to be back in the blogosphere. Happy Saturday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Hey, all. So excited to share that better the book is finally available!

Two years ago yesterday, I signed on with Code Breaker to turn Project 180 the blog into Project 180 the book, and now–finally–the day has come to share better with the world. Of course, no small part of that world is right here with the people who’ve been on the journey with me since day one (7 years ago). I would not have gotten here without you. Thank you for sticking with me all these years.

What’s next for Project 180? Not entirely sure at the moment, but as we’ve come to know, together, better never ends. It simply bends around the corner, and we give chase. Thank you, again, my friends for keeping me company on the better journey.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Response situations are inevitable.

Reaction situations are avoidable.

Among my most regrettable moments in the classroom (in life) are those in which I reacted, when I should have responded. As one who reflects as a way of being, such replays sting and stick, and I find myself languishing in the regret of the reaction, vowing to do better next time, for there will always be a next time. Response situations are inevitable in the classroom and in life. We work and exist with humans. There will always be behaviors to which we will respond. But, response situations do not need to be reaction situations. I can (of course, not always easily) control my own behavior in answer to another’s. I can respond. I do not have to react. I have a choice. And while the idea of “choosing” makes simple (maybe overly simple) the real struggle we experience when faced with this “choice” in the heat of the moment, it is decidedly not simple. It is hard “human work” not to react. Such toil takes tools.

Recently, on our morning walk and talk, my wife, a middle school art teacher, shared her idea for such a tool to use in the classroom this year.

I found it to be a simply brilliant approach (tool) to the messy human work we find in our classrooms, for it brings the kids into the work of “better.” It forges a partnership with them in hard, but necessary, work of building better connections and community in the classroom.

Response Cards

The What

This is what “Response Cards” will look like in my classroom this year. Nothing fancy. They don’t need to be. They are just a simple tool.

I will hand each of my kiddos an index card to complete, which I will then collect, keep, and consult when necessary (response situations).

The How

This is how we will go about creating the cards. Once I frame the purpose (see below), I will lead the process.

First, we will consider and capture, as a class, the behaviors that help our work and the behaviors that hinder our work. It might look something like this on the whiteboard.

Behaviors That Help	Behaviors That Hinder
* *  * * *	* *  * * *

Of course, before I start recording on the board, I will have had my kids record their own ideas as individuals, share and compare with an elbow partner, and then, we will begin constructing our class list on the board. I value and put into practice whenever I can the progression from individual to partner to class. That does not mean it’s the only way. It’s simply a way that I have found to be effective.

And while I can only at this point speculate on what my kids may come up with, here are some “hindersome” behaviors I anticipate making the list.

• Late to class
• Not prepared
• Not listening
• On phone
• Off task
• Being disruptive (this could probably be broken down many ways)
• Disrespectful
• Lack of effort
• Sleeping
• Anxious, stressed, upset, etc. (I will speak to these below)

The list goes on. And as I suggest above with “disruptive,” there are many general behaviors that can be broken down into specific behaviors. I intend to let the kids lead as I listen and list. Yes, I will give my two cents, but I primarily want the kids to generate the list based on their own ample experiences in the classroom. A note on the last of my list above. I included and will include them on my list when I do this with kids, but I will be careful to frame such things as things that can get in the way of our learning, not as “bad” things. In fact, as I discuss in the frame below, none of these are necessarily bad things; they just aren’t ideal things when it comes to our work. But their enduring presence in the classroom suggests they are real things–human things.

Next, I will ask my kids to reflect on their classroom experiences from the past, and as they do, I will ask them to identify some of the “edges” from those experiences where they have exhibited behaviors that have hindered learning. I will then ask them to consider which behaviors are most likely (based on their self-knowledge) to show up in our work this year. From there, I will ask them to identify (at least) three behaviors to add to their cards.

And then, we will pause to consider and capture, as a class (much as we did with the behaviors above), responses that help the situation and responses that hurt the situation.

Responses That Help	Responses That Hurt
* * * * *	* * * * *

My thinking here is that some of the kids may have a hard time coming up with responses (despite their ample experiences), so by coming together as a class to discuss what works and what doesn’t, we are creating a resource for them to consider as they complete their cards. Perhaps more important than the resource is the discussion that we will have around responses, which was also the case above where earlier we discussed the behaviors. Importantly, the resource is simply a guideline for the kids as they create their own personalized Response Cards. They have to work for them, or they won’t work.

What if they say to “ignore the behavior”? This question popped up in the preview of this post on Twitter. It’s a good question. I anticipate some of my kids will do exactly that. The simple of it? I can’t. It’s a behavior that is hindering our work (learning), and I have to address it. I have to respond to it. And doing nothing (ignoring it) does not help. And let’s be honest for a moment…well, I’ll be honest for a moment. I have that trick in my bag. I have ignored behaviors (too many times). It was easier. But easier is rarely better, and here I am looking to build better. True, I did avoid reacting by ignoring, but also true, I did not help by not responding. In fact, I likely hurt. I can do better. These cards are not only for the kids. They are for me. They are going to help me correct one of my hindersome, human habits–avoidance. I will be honest with my kids about this.

How can I possibly manage so much information with so many kids? This was another good question from the preview. Many of us in the secondary world have one-hundred-plus kids in our days. That’s a lot of kids; that’s a lot of cards. My short answer: don’t. Don’t manage it–at least not all of it at once. It’s unrealistic–and unnecessary–to approach this from a “must-know-all” angle. The cards are a resource. More importantly, they are a mutually and inclusively developed resource. We made them with our kids for our kids–for our classroom community.

As such, the cards are there when we need them. When John’s behavior is telling me something (behavior is communication), I need to listen and respond. And the cards (the anchor) are there for my use. I am not suggesting we run to our desks and consult the cards every time John “speaks” to us. I am suggesting that I bear in mind the resource that will be available to us (John and me) when we continue (ideally, privately) the conversation around a particular response situation.

As I think ahead, in many situations, we won’t need the cards. Most of us have learned how to respond in helpful ways, which for many of our kids will be the responses they list on their cards. We are not trading in our craft for respond-by-the-number cards. We are simply striving to better meet our kids where we find them, and the cards are there to help when we need them. On some level, as with many things in our work, the process (making the cards) is more important than the product (having the cards).

The Frame (The Why)

I believe in frames. When we frame our work in why, we give purpose to our shared pursuits in the classroom. Here’s how I will frame the “Response Cards” for my kids this year.

Our work is human work. And human work is messy. Anytime we bring humans together to work towards a common end, we encounter challenges that will hinder our progress toward that shared end. In here, that end is our learning. Each of us will have the opportunity to grow and learn in the coming days. And each of us, in our own ways, will contribute to the mess with our human habits.

More plainly, in our journey ahead, there will be behaviors that hinder our work, behaviors that I must address. My experiences in the classroom have taught me this. You will inevitably do things that will impact your and others’ opportunities to learn in here. You will be disruptive. You will be on your phones. You will be off task. I know this. You know this. These are the things that happen with humans in the room. Doing such things does not make us bad; they make us human. But when such things get in the way of learning–and they do–they must be addressed. They become the mess I must address. And for that I need your help. For how I address such things determines how we move forward. See, much as your behaviors can help or hinder, my responses can help or hurt. So, I am going to ask you to help me help you–help us–navigate the messy miles ahead.

Here’s how we are going to do it…

The Fit

All that said (which is likely too much), you have to make the Response Cards fit you. I believe in “The Fit” as much as I believe in “The Frame.” And here the “Frame” is really the entire post. This is how I plan to use the Response Cards, not how you should plan to use them. Yes, please, use whatever I have shared, but only use what fits you and your kids–or it won’t work. My wife, the one who came up with the idea, will use the cards differently than I. She and I know that we have to make things our own. What works is what works for us. So, please, make it work for you.

Well, all, hopefully this helps any of you who are considering the cards. I am sorry it ended up being such a long post. Special thanks to my brilliant wife for inspiring my latest better. Happy Monday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Been wonderin’ on “why,” again. And, again, as with many of my wonders, it began as a tweet.

Yes, I was playing with words, but I wasn’t playing. It is how I think of learning. It is how I think of learners. And I think about it, a lot. It is my trying to make meaning of my own work, my own learning. I suppose some on Twitter regarded it as a cute platitude (something to get likes). But, I was neither trying to be cute nor trying to get likes. I was trying to “Do Better” out loud, for when I do things out loud (make public my reflections), I find myself compelled to do and share better. And, here, that meant reflecting about the idea of making meaning.

How do we make meaning?

This next tweet followed shortly after.

Why

Of course, I have tried “why” before. During the distance-learning phase of the pandemic, I wondered and worried about the why in our work, about the kids’ finding importance and relevance. So, I gave “Why, Sy?” a shot for some time, which was basically a brief daily video via Screencastify in which I tried to offer an earnest answer to why we were doing what we were doing. You can read more about it here.

And though I thought it was the “better” break I was looking for, it fizzled and faded, and I got nowhere near the 180 days I had planned with “Why, Sy?”

Why? Well, it felt a bit forced and artificial. It was on me alone to supply the why, and more often than not, it just felt like teacher talk. It did not feel authentic, and that won’t do in the 180 classroom. So, consequently, my new-found try with why never really got off the ground. This wasn’t the better I was looking for after all. I would have to keep chasing the next better around the bend. Had to. “Why” wasn’t going anywhere.

“Why do I have to learn this?” Kids (in various ways) have asked this question forever. We certainly asked it when we were on the other side of the room. And we, as certainly, struggled with the answers, often finding little satisfaction and even less meaning in many of the responses we were given. We have a need to know why. It’s how me make sense, how we make meaning. And so, in our work, if we want our learners learning, they have to make meaning. So, then, how do we fill the experience with more meaning? How do we respond to the need to know why? I believe we have to pair “I” with “Why.” As I recently suggested in “Plan Me,” kids have to find themselves in the work to make meaning. So, then, my task, I believe, is to help them find themselves. Thus, my next try with why: “Why do I?”

Why Do I?

As presented in the tweet above, why will begin with “We” and end with “I.” For everything we do in class this year, we will begin with the question, “Why do we need…?” It will look something like this.

Why do we need to connect as a community?

Why do we need to read?

Why do we need to state and support themes?

Why do we need to write in complete sentences?

From there, using the document below, we will consider and capture ideas together as a class. I plan to facilitate this much in the same way as I do our Daily Discussion (Individual>Partner>Class). I anticipate it taking roughly 5 minutes.

“Need,” I think, is key here, for if something’s a need, it’s necessary. This will challenge me to be even more thoughtful about the work I am putting in front of my kids. And more, it will challenge the kids( once we get to the “Why do I need to…?) part of the process, to really consider what their needs are in the context of their own past, present, and future journeys through the human learning experience.

“I don’t need to _____________.” As I stated above, I do expect and will accept “don’t.” But I will also expect at least one more why. Why don’t you need to? Importantly, this is not a control lever. It’s a support step. It’s one more step towards helping my kids find themselves in the work, one more step towards pairing “I” and “Why.”

I am still playing around a bit with the form and ultimately how I will use it, but, for now, this is my plan. The function will remain (I + Why), regardless the form.

I am eager to dive more deeply into “why work” with my kids. I hope it helps them discover “Why” through “I,” which will hopefully help make each experience more meaningful.

That, I believe, is “Why we are doing this.”

Happy Sunday, all. Hope you are well.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Unfortunately, in education, we tend to make success about winning or losing instead of learning and growing. The kids know this. They live this. They live the labels we give them. And though we try to blur the lines with eduspeak, the kids translate their experiences into the simple language of winner or loser.

They look to the score or the grade first (often only) as a sign of success (or failure). We thought, I think, that if we presented rubrics (in the most general sense of the term for our purposes here), then we might change how they viewed their place and themselves. If we provided descriptive level language, they would better understand (maybe accept) our judgment. Seemed like a good idea with good intention. But, in the end, I am not sure our good idea (or intention) did much to change the game for our kids, especially when it came to grading (winning or losing).

In short, we sort. We sort kids. And as I think about my past experiences with rubrics (again, in the most general sense of the term), I find that really they were more about (justifying) sorting than supporting. So, I broke up with rubrics.

As my journey has taken me farther away from grading and deeper into learning, I have had to rethink how I support, for I no longer sort. As such, I no longer rely on rubrics; I offer simple criteria, for the simple–purer–purpose of supporting learning.

SSC (Simple Success Criteria)

What do I need you to do?

Really, I believe, our work with kids begins as simply as this. So, I make it as simple as possible by listing out the criteria for success, which I will then use as an entry point into the primary purpose of our work: the Feedback/Response Process. It is here where my work really begins, where I become a teacher, a supporter.

But, I think it’s important to establish what I mean by “success.” In the sorting classroom, I would be compelled to sort in terms of winning (meeting the criteria) or losing (not meeting the criteria). And, in this context, the rubric readily lends itself to this end, typically in four-point fashion (iterated in various, often eduspeak ways). In short, too often with the “sort,” kids win or become “leveled-losers.” To be fair, I know that some use “rubrics” with better intentions and greater success (if feedback and opportunity are present), but more often–sadly–success is a sorting game. Grading.

In the supporting classroom, I am compelled to support kids–wherever I find them. And from there, we engage for the sole purpose of growth, which I believe is the measure of success in the supporting classroom. Whether I find them above, at, or below the expectations presented in the criteria, I meet them and together, engaged in the Feedback/Response Process (FRP), we learn forward. Success is growth (I write about it here in “Met, Not Yet.“). Learning.

Here’s an example of what Simple Success Criteria might look like in my room. The form is always evolving, but the function remains: What do I need you to do?

This is what my grade-level team and I use for “Claim, Cite, Clarify.” The SSC are on the left. On the right, at least for this particular Learning Check, we have provided an example, which we tend to do early in the learning experience. It gives kids a guide. It also gives us an anchor for feedback.

Of course, there are a million different ways one can present SSC to kids, but the key, I believe, is to keep it simple, to show kids what you need them to do with the particular learning experience, which has only just begun. The real experience, the real work, begins in the Feedback/Response Process. Support.

FRP (Feedback/Response Process)

Everything leads to here. This is where I meet kids, and it is from here that we work together towards growth (success). As you saw in “Met, Not Yet,” I determine where kids are when I meet them. Simply, they have or they have not (yet) met the expectations presented in the criteria. If they have met, then I have the opportunity (responsibility) to help them move (grow) beyond the standard(s). If they have not yet met, then I have the opportunity (responsibility) to help them move (grow) forward toward the standard(s), which I discuss in “Met, Not Yet.” So, I will not repeat the process I use here.

Are Rubrics Bad?

No, that’s not my stance. As I suggested earlier, I think some can and do use them to effect (if feedback and next steps are part of the package). However, I think they can be used badly (sorting/grading), but SSC can be used for the same “bad” purpose, too. So, then, it really comes down to purpose, which I believe should be–solely and simply–supporting learning. In a word: growing.

In my work I try to steer clear of the good/bad binary. Instead, I focus on the singular: better, which I have embraced as the guide on my journey to help me create better learning experiences for my kids. There’s always better.

No good. No bad. Only better. Rubrics weren’t doing it for me, so I sought better, which at present has taken form as SSC (a necessary step to FRP). And with these two steps in front of the work, I find myself supporting learning better than ever, for my kids are growing.

Success. Simply.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

Monte Syrie invites all teachers into a lyrical, inspiring conversation on learning and doing better. Sharing his characteristic wit and vulnerability, he asks us to question grading, learning, and relationship practices—and with his book in our hands, he’s a welcoming, supporting mentor beside us on our own journeys. ~Nicholas A. Emmanuele, HS ELA Teacher and Dept. Chair

Morning, all. So excited to share the cover of my book with you.

What has been years in the making is finally nearing its completion. Blessed to have such a solid support system in my publisher CodeBreaker. As blessed to have such an awesome audience in you all, for you have helped me stay the course with Project 180 over the years. Thank you for always being here. Could not have done this without you. Thank you.

The book should be available around October. I will keep you posted.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

I have chased many “betters” around the bend over the past six years with Project 180. It, as my regular readers know, has been a dizzying dance of Doing, Reflecting, and Doing Better, for just as soon I brave and build one better, I am already off after the next better around the bend. Indeed, better never ends; it only bends. And as I come to this next big bend in the journey (Year Seven) and take stock of where I’ve been and what I carry with me, I can only find one constant companion–a better with an end, a better without a bend: Smiles and Frowns.

It’s my hill to die on. It’s my ride or die. It’s the only permanent in my practice. And though it would likely never play out, if ever I was told that I could no longer do Smiles and Frowns, its end would be my end. They’d have to fire me. With Smiles and Frowns, there is no bend. To put a more positive spin on it, Smiles and Frowns is the best thing I have ever done in the classroom. And it always will be–no matter how many more years I have ahead of me. It is where I hang the hat of my career.

That said, let’s talk a bit about the what, why, and how of Smiles and Frowns.

Note: Yes, I have talked about it before, “Relationships Are Not Accidents” and “How I Build Community with Smiles and Frowns,” but this is an updated post, which has been long overdue. Thank you, Ron Taylor, for the nudge.

What

Of course, I did not create Smiles and Frowns. The idea of it has been around for a long time, and it answers to many names: “Roses and Thorns,” “Peaches and Pits,” “Happies and Crappies,” “Ups and Downs,” and the list goes on. Regardless the name, the general purpose is the same: to connect the people in the room. It’s a simple, go-around-the-room activity where people share a positive and/or a not-so-positive part of their lives.

Why

To connect the people in the room. Nothing connects humans better than shared experiences, so when we share our experiences (Smiles and Frowns), we see ourselves in others and others see themselves in us. And, eventually, “I” becomes “We.” A classroom becomes a community, a shared space where we struggle, we grow, we laugh, we cry, we learn, we live. A community. Our community.

But community is a commitment. A daily commitment. “We” takes time.

How

Here’s the general format of the activity along with some specifics I believe are key to successfully implementing and sustaining Smiles and Frowns.

Make time. Find a consistent time for the activity. I do it every day right after I take attendance. Some do it on Mondays. Some do it on Fridays. Some do it on both Mondays and Fridays as bookends to the week. I am a big advocate for doing it daily–no matter what. But I realize for some that may be a leap too far, especially for those just starting out with Smiles and Frowns. Regardless what you choose to do, consistency is key. Consistency leads to habit to routine to ritual. In my room, Smiles and Frowns is a ritual–a sacred one.

Invest time. Relationships are investments. Not gonna BS ya here, Smiles and Frowns takes time.

To be fair–and honest, I fretted the time commitment when I first began doing daily Smiles and Frowns. I know I claimed in the “Relationships Are Not Accidents” post that it only takes five minutes, but that’s not true. Some days, it does only take five minutes, but other days (most days) it takes ten or more. It depends (on so much), but I have learned to let go my old fears of “wasting instructional time,” and now I focus on the fact that I am investing in connections, in community, in us. As I said, “we” takes time. I invest in us.

Find a frame. Frame it for your kids. Here’s the gist of how I do it.

We are going to learn a lot in here this year, but of all the content we will consider, there is nothing more important than the people in this room, and so, we will spend time each day considering each other. We will “learn” each other. Every day, no matter what, we will begin our time together by connecting through an activity I call Smiles and Frowns. Here’s how it will work…

Or something like that. I encourage you to find a frame–for everything you put in front of kids, but especially for something as sacred as Smiles and Frowns (or whatever you come to call it). Feel free to use/adapt my frame, but please make it fit you and your kids, or it won’t work.

Pick a name. The name doesn’t matter. As I said earlier, there are a number of names for this activity. I like Smiles and Frowns. Pick one you like. Or, even better, make one up.

Consider configuration. I have my desks in a circle, which I believe is the best arrangement–we can see each other (a key to connection). But this can also be achieved by having kids stand in a circle if you don’t have your desks arranged in one. Please note, this does not need to be a deal-breaker. I know several who successfully conduct Smiles and Frowns with a variety of arrangements (including rows). As with everything, make it yours.

Go around the room, inviting each person (by name) to share a smile and/or frown from their lives. Typically, kids will “tag” their responses with, “Smile…” or “Frown…”

Promise the “Pass.” I cannot overstate the importance of letting–even encouraging–kids to pass. I write about it here in “The Power of the Pass.” Of course, I did not arrive at this understanding immediately. For too long, I took the pass personally, but now I see it and embrace it differently. For many, this seems to be the biggest, can’t-get-over-it obstacle to sustaining Smiles and Frowns. I got over it, by getting over it. Please let kids pass.

Community Circle

In addition to daily Smiles and Frowns, on Fridays we add “Community Circle” to the mix. My kids love Smiles and Frowns, but they LOVE Community Circle. And so, to any who are looking to up their community-connections game even further, I highly recommend adding this activity to your repertoire.

I run it the same as Smiles and Frowns. But, with Community Circle, I present specific prompts like the ones below.

I typically come up with four prompts on Friday morning, which I also share on Twitter (if you need prompts).

Yes, we still do Smiles and Frowns. Have to. Every day. No matter what.

And, yes, Community Circle takes even more time.

And, yes, happily, I invest.

I Guarantee It

It’s the only practice I guarantee. Everything else I do forms and fades as each better bends, but this is a better with an end. It changes the entire experience for everyone in the room. And it will for you, too. I guarantee it. I have had too many others tell me so over the years after they have made it a part of their practice. Smiles and Frowns is profoundly simple and simply profound. It will change you, your room, your kids–for better, forever.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.

“Do” is still a dilemma. Five years ago I wrote “The Dilemma of Do,” a post that dove into the “do” and “don’t (won’t) do” in the classroom through the lens of compliance v. the lens of commitment. Having purposefully placed myself in a position where I no longer had the control of compliance (I gave all my kids an A for the year), I had to rely on kids’ commitment to their learning. It is the path I chose, which was a path less-traveled to be sure, so as I made my way, I longed to learn about the do of commitment, for as I believed then, and as I still believe now, it is the only path to an authentic learning experience. As you’ve likely heard me say many times, I have no interest in compliance. My interest lies in commitment.

I am committed to commitment.

Seems simple enough. Simple, yes. Easy, no. The commitment course has not been and likely never will be easy street. It is fraught with challenges. Kids are accustomed to (conditioned for) the compliance course. Just because I have set the compass to Commitment doesn’t mean kids readily race ahead, embracing the “open road.” For most, it is a freedom (and responsibility) not familiar. Even more, the commitment course is no longer about “all kids” (that’s a compliance concern), it’s about each kid. Each is in a different place when their commitment journey begins, continues, and ends. I can teach all (compliance). But I want to reach each (commitment). In short, each ain’t easy.

Reach

Reach is the active process of meeting kids in their learning. It is “reaching out” to discover not only where they are but also who they are in the context of their learning journeys.

Their learning. This is key. It has to be. Authentic learning experiences necessitate student ownership. They have to believe they own it. We have to believe they own it. And to that end, we must first acknowledge and then accept that “ownership” is not something given but honored. Kids come to us with their learning. They work with us in their learning. And they leave us with their learning. They are never not learning. As such, we have to honor their learning, which simply is where we find them.

So, we have to find them. We have to reach them–where they are, which is the only place they can ever be. And more, despite our (vain) efforts to force the fit for all, we will never find any of our kids in the same place at once, which leads us again to the challenge of reaching each: each ain’t easy. So, it follows, then, that reach ain’t easy either.

But, reach is real because it’s a look beyond convention. That is not to say that it obviates convention. There may still be some value in looking at assessment data, diagnostics, academic history, and so on, but–at least in my experience–there may be less there than we want to admit. So, when there’s less, we have to seek more. We have to reach. We have to. And we do. I think many of us practice “reach” intuitively because we know there’s more to the story than conventional considerations which seek to describe the students in front of us, but this is seldom enough because it fails to consider the humans in front of us. As I suggested earlier, I can teach all students (transaction and compliance). But that isn’t enough. I want to reach each individual (connection and commitment).

So, I reach–every day–to find first the humans in the room, for I believe that without that human connection, I will never find each. As most know, I do that with Smiles and Frowns. I want kids to take seriously the notion that they are important individuals, for I also want them to take seriously the notion that they are the stewards of their learning. When kids feel seen as individuals (not just students), they seem to better see themselves in the context of their learning. And I believe this connection for them, for us, is an important first step towards commitment, that place where we meet and commit to their learning.

Of course, there’s more to reach than this first step. Reach is routine. It’s not something I do sometimes. It is everything I do–all the time.

I imagine our rooms, our work, a realm, a place where we exist to seek (reach) and serve (teach) the kids with whom we share (I believe) a sacred space. Their learning is sacred, and I believe–to the very depths of my being–it an honor to be a guest in their space. They are not in my space. This discovery has changed my entire view of our work. I, we, are in their space. And this belief–for me–has given rise to the idea of “reach.”

And it is an idea, an ideal–still in development. In fact, this post has become a “real-time” processing experience for me, as it was not my initial intent to explore the “realm of reach” here. I just wanted to share an idea, “Plan Me,” designed to help kids act with agency (commit) when my plan (Plan A–if you will) doesn’t fit. And I quickly ran into “reach.” And while I have had “reach” on my mind for some time now (can’t teach them until I reach them), I felt compelled to try my hand at an iteration to make more formed (if not formal) my idea of “reach’s role” in our work.

Above I mentioned that reach is an all-the-time act. And it is. Reach is always in play. As such, I could probably write a series of lengthy posts for all the ways it’s in play, but I have run around in this realm far longer than I ever intended, so for now, suffice to say, from Smiles and Frowns to Daily Discussions to tASK and Learning Check design to the Feedback/Response Process to Select-and-Support Grading and far beyond, I use reach to find each.

Limits of Reach

I am an experienced “reacher.” And though I don’t like to frame things in “good,” for the sake of simplicity, I will here say that I am a good reacher. I work hard at it, using my Project 180 approach (Do, Reflect, Do Better) to its fullest. I have to. It’s how I build better. So, maybe, I should just stick to the script I prefer, “I am a better reacher.” Meaning, simply–as my longtime readers hopefully know–I am better than I was, not better than anyone else.

Regardless the adjective (experienced, good, better), reach has its limits. For, try as earnestly as I might to reach each, there’s always a “me” for whom the plan doesn’t fit, and my earnest efforts fall short, which inevitably impacts the “do” (where I began with this post). I still have kids who don’t/won’t do. And this won’t do. It didn’t when I conducted the compliance classroom. And it can’t while I “conjure” the commitment classroom. So, I have to do better.

Of course, there are myriad reasons beyond my control which impact a kid’s doing. I accept that. But, in my room, there are things I can control through flexibility and opportunity, both of which are “reach routines.” And it was with both in mind when I tweeted this out last week. When a plan doesn’t fit, I have to come up with a different plan. Well, somebody does. And here, I have decided to ask the “actor” to change the script for a better fit–to commit with “Plan Me.”

The Form

Here’s the draft document that I will use with my kiddos this year. I say “draft,” for I will likely reflect and do better in the coming days and weeks and modify it to fit my new thinking.

The goal here was to keep it fairly simple for the kids. But I also wanted to challenge them a bit as agents of their learning to step up to the plate, so to speak, by keeping some of the more technical terminology in learning experience design: Purpose, Learning Targets, Task, Content, Product.

Of course, before the kids ever get their hands on this document, I will frame the idea of “Plan Me” (see below). As such, this was designed with the assumption that kids will understand the purpose before they get to the process of designing an alternative learning experience.

Ideally, most kids would independently design the experience, but realistically, many will want to collaboratively design the experience with me. With this in mind, I offered that option.

I included the “Original Plan” details to ground us in the intent of the original plan. I want kids to consider (and copy) the framework that went into my planning before they begin their own planning. More, it will push me to be even more explicit about my proposed plan, particularly with purpose. I generally do a “good” job of this, but as is the 180 way, I can always do better. I will do better at considering and communicating the purpose of our learning experiences this year.

For the most part, though some modification may be necessary, the purpose and learning targets will be the same in their plans, for they reflect the “Priority Standards” for our grade-level curriculum, which I must honor. So, really the alternative plan (kid choice) takes shape with the task, content, and product of the proposed experience, which I also feel I must honor–kinda the whole point of the “Plan Me” idea. I want them to consider and communicate what alternatives will better fit, so they can better commit. And so, the “rational” becomes key, for I want my “agents” to articulate their reasons for revising the experience.

The end game/goal is approval. It is my commitment to their commitment. I am committed to commitment. And, here, I expect and accept that this will be a largely collaborative commitment to come up with a path (plan) for an authentic learning experience.

The Frame

I believe in frames. I believe that framing our work is as important as doing our work. So, I work hard on how I frame everything. And though it will likely change some as I continue to reflect, this is how I might frame “Plan Me” for my kids.

To the kids…

I will try. I will fail. But I will keep trying. I have to. That is my commitment to you and your learning this year. For every learning experience I offer, from Daily tASKs to Learning Checks, I will try to design them with you in mind. I want them to be meaningful to you. I want you to see that they have value (now and later) in your lives. I want them to fit you. But try as I might, there will always be some (maybe many) for whom my plans will fail to fit, and as a consequence you may not fully commit because I failed to reach you. So, in an effort to reach even further for your commitment, I am offering a plan B when my plan A fails. I am calling it “Plan Me.” It is an opportunity for you to design an alternative learning experience with a better fit, so you can better commit. Here’s what it looks like…

This is at least a rough sketch of how I will likely frame this opportunity for my kids. I put it together a bit hastily, for I needed to get this post published this morning, but it reflects the essence of the plan.

Of course, this will not fully fix the “do dilemma,” but I hope it’s a reach in the right direction to conjure the commitment classroom of my dreams.

Hope you are all well. It has been nearly eight months since my last post, and for that I sincerely apologize. But that time allowed me to finish my book which is in the publisher’s hands at the moment and should be out early fall. It’s good to be back. Sorry for the long post.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.