Archiving the Journey: Part 2

Well, the summer is rumbling along and I am fighting myself for more time: more time to write, more time to think, more time to prepare, more time to just breathe!


I am home full time - doing the Mr. Mom thing (my god, I can’t believe how much I love this gig!) but find that this job is all-consuming. It hit me with a (refreshing) jolt the other day as I opened up a letter from my school with my new timetable in it! It was a jolt because I hadn’t really thought about going back for so long that I was really stunned that my summer was coming to an end. I guess when I view my summer in its entirety, it seems to stretch out forever. Yet it too must come to an end!


So, in terms of where I left off, where has my journey led me? I have managed to create a couple of spaces for my self and my students. The first is my teaching blog - my central space that I will hold discussions and post assignments for my students. I think I will use this space to write about my thoughts as per the classroom development, thinking about issues that we all are facing, posting assignments that each of my students will then complete on their own blogs, and of course, a space where all of my own students can link to their own and fellow classmates’ blogs.


I’ve also created a wiki for my class - I see this as an interactive classroom website, as well as a space for all of us to contribute to. As the year progresses, I’d like to get my kids to create their own wiki as a published on-line research report (say, a wiki on cars) yet I fear that this is an entirely too linear use of this resource. We’ll see how the year progresses.


I’ve been thinking about my limitations of technology - from the shortage of classroom computers (I have 3) to the limitations of the home (what if my students don’t have the internet at home?). I’m thinking about hi-jacking the lab in the mornings before school (my kids can come early to publish if needed) as well as during some lunch times.

I’ve been thinking about setting the ground rules to keep my kids safe - but that does not mean sheltered. I am adamant about them being on the web (yes they need to be taught how to manage, as well as how to be responsible) as this is truly the wave of NOW, not even the future. What an incredible resource to not even use!


So I am off to tweak my blog, my wiki and start looking for rules of conduct! What a journey!

Archiving the Journey: Part 1

Well, the official half-way point has been reached in my summer vacation (I love being a teacher!) and I find that I am battling a slight case of rising panic about getting ready for September; already the anxiety is rising in my throat as I write these words. There is so much I want to get done by the time school starts! Yet, I know that my strength as a teacher is vision, and my greatest weakness as a teacher is the ability to follow through on this vision!

I have not posted for some time, but I am still well on my journey of integrating technology into my practice. I mean really and truly integrate it into my practice. I do not want to continue treating it as an add-on to my teaching. I have realized that I have been reacting towards the computer in my classroom with trepidation because I couldn’t see how to authentically use it - not as a centre, or a patronizing 40 minute time playing on KidPix with not authentic purpose. I also know that my students are miles ahead of where I am in terms of using a computer. I have been trained, I believe, that the internet is a beast that is untamable, and to let kids loose at it is asking for trouble (as stalkers are lurking around every URL, waiting to snatch my students! This fear of what is out there has closed me off to everything good that is out there! I admit that I am not on Facebook, don’t know how to text message, am slightly afraid of my cell phone but I have become addicted to YouTube and am getting to know Google a little better (but look! I can hyperlink! Aren't I snappy???).

I have also hooked into a few educational PodCasts - as I find that in engaging in the conversation surrounding technology has been the best in getting to understand how to broaden my teaching, and engage my students! One particularly fascinating one is the November Learning series led by Alan November. His conversations have been particularly inspiring. I have also been listening to Driving Questions with some interest. It was in one of the latter’s podcast that he spoke about how to get others involved in becoming 2.0 classrooms, meaning that they are truly using technology to deliver their programs, not just assisting.

By no means am I looking to co-op the spaces lived by my students, but I am looking to hitch a ride of this revolution. I looking at starting a class blog (not the anonymous one I have sought refuge in here), and getting my students to have their own blog as well. I want to post our learning and get them to respond to it, to keep the conversations going well past home time. I want them to publish their writing/thinking in an authentic manner, and have the other students engage in this process, whether to comment on issues raised by their peers, to assist in revising their work, or even to support the reflection that is crucial in becoming a better writer.

I want blogging to expand simply a writing application. I want to integrate our numeracy program into our blogs - and to start I think I want to our blogs to support of math journals, for now - the limitation I seem to have now is only my failure of my imagination.

I think to date, my biggest limitation has been the belief that I have to know it all before letting my kids loose on it. However, if this is be a journey (which more authentic learning happens, then through simply a guided tour by a dis-enchanted tour guide) then we need to be able to move together. I do need to lay the ground rules, though. I need (before beginning) to think about our collective rules surrounding blogging (last names?), how we are supporting each other (how do we respond constructively?), and our protocol for dealing with others not in our class - because I hope to reach out to others in this great space, whether they are other grade 6 student from around the world, or even learned experts in fields.

I hope to add the internet to our literacy program, as children are reading books they also need to be taught how to deeply read the texts that are just a click away. How do I handle that? My main goal is to engage them within the overarching question: How is this helping you become a better reader? I still want to put our reading strategy instruction at the fore-front of my literacy teaching, and adding the internet as another source of text.

Oh, so much to be done!

I also want to get my students to create wikis surrounding research that they are doing - this gets us to produce texts in an authentic manner. I have also thought about recording our book talks (which are the crucial components of my literacy instruction) and posting them as a podcast, to coop the i-pod craze that seems to be gripping the kids at my school. How cool would that be to actually require the use of these things that we seem to always be fighting! What a great way to share the learning that we are doing with others as well! Oh, the applications!

So this is the journey to date. I ramble on quickly as I want to get it all down. I also want a written account for myself, and others, to let me know how this process is going. I feel that if I write it all down then it makes it all real, and then forces me to continue. I’ve already stated how far I’ve come - I need to continue! Only four more weeks of vacation left to go - yet I already know that the greatest learning will happen when I actually get my kids involved.

So my journey has progressed - more than a few steps have been taken, but lots more are going to happen! I can’t wait until September!

Step 1: Take a Step...

I’m still rather consumed with the thoughts surrounding technology. So much so, that I took my first step. I looked at my (lame-ass) website that I use this year and updated it. I realized that I spend an inordinate amount of time on my paper newsletters, messing with clip art and fonts, a-waiting for student contributions, to what end? Is it really appreciated? I reached a point where I had to demand a pop-quiz from my students the day after I sent home the newsletter (inevitably a week late) to ensure that they all had read it.

I am still on the reduce paper idea. I updated the website and sent out mass emails to all my families, and received positive feedback already. So there is step 1: Take a Step.

Techno-Bloggo-Boy!

I had the privilege/horror to attend yet another workshop last Wednesday. I say horror as I was dreading yet another day away from my kids (why is it so much work to get ready for a supply teacher?). However, I was looking forward to sitting down and spending the day with my principal and lead literacy teacher (I am the lead math teacher: Numeracy PLC chair).

In this workshop was a cheesy slide show that blew me away! Check it out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIqk4agzKPE

In it were references of technology which got me to thinking: How do I use technology in my daily teaching? The sad answer is that I don’t. Which then begs the critical question: WHY?

Why, in a world so technology driven is it that I am doing little to nothing to prepare my kids to live in a world dependent upon it. Is the weekly trips to the lab really doing it, where all they really do is surf to pre-determined sites or play banal games that only slightly challenge their intellect?

I think I am so resistant to using technology because I cannot see how to integrate it within my practice. Yet, this yet another case of doing what I am doing simply because it is always what I have done. It is a fundamental failure of imagination, a paralysis of paradigm (I love that line!). In the video, it said that the most in demand jobs of the future haven’t even been invented yet! And yet again, I ask, what am I doing?

I have always been dependent upon my imagination. I need to see something in order for me to get it to work. I haven’t seen anyone truly use technology in their classroom, besides just an add-on. So, my mind has been racing the past couple of days (thus not being able to sleep on a Sunday morning) with the possibilities.

So here is what I’ve come up with so far. I started with the idea of doing a classroom blog - not everyone contributing to one blog, but each student having their own blog under the umbrella of the teacher’s blog. I came across a website that seems to offer this, and browsed the possibilities - they seem really amazing! I am also being driven by the desire to get rid of paper. If I can do more on the computer, then I will have less paper to use. Also, if I keep all the information on the web - then, theoretically, it is much more accessible, right?

I’ve been trying to break it down into subjects. For reading, they could engage in reading projects where they are reading traditional books (please, let’s not get rid of those!) and searching for information on the web. This could be a mixture of guided reading groups with me, independent at their desks and then groups out on the computers. I need some way to track, or to hold the kids accountable for what they are reading. I thought of a simple T-chart, with information listed on one side, and response on the other side (depending on the type of strategy we are learning, would be the response for my kids.). For writing, they can go through the traditional paper writing, complete with process and all (as provincial testing is still paper bound), and have personal descriptive narrative/response journal-ing happening on line on the blog site. They are also responsible for responding (positively) to other members in the class.

For math, I can assign homework linked to the website, and have a math journal component as part of the homework expectations. This all is dependent on organization. How do I manage all of this?

I had some training in the spring to run an on-line course for the local university - this inspired me to post assignments that are expected from my kids. I think it is possible, yet it is dependent on me being able to visualize and organize it! Again, dependent upon my imagination!

So we’ll see how it works. The ball is rolling, so to speak. The summer will give me time to un-paralyze my paradigm!

Assessment, Accountability, and all that jazz...

I’ve been reading a couple of blogs from the states and there are quite a few issues that either I just don’t get or have no knowledge base to begin to understand. From the vast complaints I read about, it seems that education in the states is in the crapper - to put it bluntly.

On the subject of accountability, for instance, there seems to be a lot of contention... which got me thinking: What are my beliefs on accountability?

I am fully in favour of assessment - specifically assessment FOR learning. It is only through assessment informed instruction that we can have any hope of truly moving our students along. In grade 3, this translates to having my students master certain sets of skills, but more importantly (read: MOST), they are to UNDERSTAND these skills. Too often I read and hear from fellow colleagues that the only way to close the achievement gap is through basic skill instruction. This doesn’t wash with me. I liken it to building projects. If one child is lagging behind the others, and the house is not getting finished - then what they DON’T need is lots of instruction on how to hammer, to use a drill and techniques to screw (in screws!). They need rich and deep instruction, they need a person who can work with them as they build the house. This person is giving precise, practical advice on what EXACTLY is needed next.

I think about writing instruction. I cringe when I see fellow teachers photocopying grammar sheets for the whole class to complete. Why does the whole class need this? What a good teacher needs to do is pull out from the assessment what needs to be taught. Is this a global problem throughout the room? If so, then the whole needs that instruction. If not, then perhaps a small group or even an individual. I think we get hung up on time - and in terms of time, a lesson is seen as a 25 minute tirade, complete with photocopied sheets, elaborate tricks and gimmicks. THIS IS WRONG. A good as anything lesson could be a short 1 minute intervention. "Try doing this," or "Have you thought about this?" Then give them a chance to give it a go!

So in terms of accountability, how does this relate? I believe that through examining what my kids are learning, and specifically what they need, then I am truly accountable to what is happening in the room. I have a firm underpinning to my instruction, clearly outlining the reasons why I am instructing. I am teaching this because of this need. Time is precious, and it is too often wasted with filler. To teach effectively, to fill in the achievement gap, we need to teach precisely.

Natural Man-Musk

I had the privilege of spending time with friends this past weekend, with whom I don’t often get the chance to talk with. My wife is really good friends with the Other Woman (no reason for capitals, just some unnecessary dramatic effect) so I am obviously paired up with the husband. This is a routine pairing, and while the women go off to do their thing, we are thrown together, most likely to engage in awkward conversation or subtle patronizing. You see, we share radically different professions, and I would be so bold as to extend that into radically different world views. When two people cannot see the other’s frame of reference, then awkwardness surely ensues.

The point of this, is that it WASN’T awkward (except for the hugging, which came at the end of the evening). We all balanced each other nicely and *shock!* I was able to move out of my comfort-zone-my-life-is-my-routine, everything-is-about-teaching mentality to see more of the outside world. It was refreshing.

Talk also came about to the topic of this blog. Granted, there is some audience-intent apparent here, but the ultimate goal of this blog is for me to write. In writing of my stories, I am able to better understand them, and ultimately, to improve my practice. However, I was reaching a sort of crisis/boredom point in that I was frustrated that there wasn’t an overarching theme apparent here. I was impatiently looking for a common thread that pulls all these rambling(s) together, yet none had jumped out to me so far. In talking to my friends, I was yet again reminded of my purpose - that is: to write. I needed to practice my craft and develop my skills. So, here we are.

In finding time to write, it is often an incredibly solitary position, though the process of writing isn’t solitary. This is what I teach my kids. I get them to write, and then to share with another, soliciting advice on how to improve their craft. They revise together, looking at content and ideas, expression of voice, and all the big changes they can make. Yet here I sit, dreadfully early in the morning, surrounded by my natural man-musk as I haven’t yet had a shower, listening for the sounds of stirring above me, hoping that the day won’t start yet. I’ve more to say, more to write, more to share... yet time is what I really need more of.

So it is with that in mind - time. In time, there will be patterns to my writing, more insights to be gleamed. Ultimately, it is really about the process. And that is what is truly important.

A Dedication for All

Well, I’m back at it (a little personal insert, if you will...). My youngest daughter just started daycare, throwing off my morning routine. And, as most educators are, I am resistant to substantial change and crave a routine of sorts. It has taken some time, but I think I am getting back to the craft. Well, let’s to it then!

Being in a new school, we are privileged to be a part of some interesting and unique experiences. Presently, we are thinking about dedicating the gym (something I had never heard of). We are currently tossing around local sports legends that possess the ideals and values that we desire of our students... and then it hit me! What if we dedicated the gym to someone within our local community, rather than a distant outsider. What if we dedicated the gym to a family that actually goes to our school who believes in the sports/values that we do... How cool would that be?

Part of the reason of this entry is for me to flesh out my ideas to present in a (reasonably) coherent fashion to my principal. My idea would require the staff to nominate a family (presumably) of children who go to our school who are active the in the sporting life of our school, and outside community. This would mean that we would say that all who enter and play within these walls show the same sportsmanship as _____________ (blank).

What if each teacher nominated a student from the first class of the building, effectively dedicating the gym to a wider range of students?

On the other hand, what kind of surreal experience would that be for a kid at school to play in the gym dedicated to her/him self? How would the other kids react to that? I think it is fair to say that sporting people in general are pretty competitive - so would this create resentment among the students - assuming they would even care?

I guess that is all this is - an ideal, a dream. We’ll see what the powers that be make of it.

nothing short of a fundamental shift of thinking...

A fellow member of my PLC and I were invited to rub elbows with the big-wigs at the board office. We were to sit in and contribute to the conversation around the board-wide purchase of a new assessment tool for Math. What we are looking for, basically, is for a user-friendly tool for the average generalist teacher of math to administer several times throughout the year that would give us a snap-shot picture of how our students are progressing.

I sat in on two different presentations: Nelson Math presented their PRIME assessment tool, and I also sat in on the First Steps in Mathematics presentation. Both were incredibly interesting, comprehensive and very useful in terms of gathering information - however, both required nothing short of a fundamental shift of thinking... that’s all, nothing else really. I kept coming back to the picture in my head of my teaching partner (bless her soul, she’s great but...) who’s idea of math is still mired in an old-school philosophy, rooted firmly in an idea that good math starts with basic skills. This would be a HUGE undertaking to get her to the place where she can both think deeply and flexibly about mathematics, as well as moving all of her students towards that ideal.

These programs both require intensive teacher training: 3 - 5 DAYS of training just for the Number strand. To get the entire board on board (ha!) with this would be monumental. It would be a massive undertaking to train all of our teachers to become, basically, experts in mathematics, whereas most elementary teachers do not possess any degree whatsoever in post-secondary mathematics.

It would be hugely beneficial - and I, for one, cry out in a loud, earnest voice, that it is high time for a change in the way we teach math. We can no longer be shackled to the ideas foisted upon us by how we were taught math - it didn’t work then, in a world deemed rustic and antiquated by today’s standards, let alone what standards our future holds for us. When we are still slamming our heads against walls killing ourselves over teaching long division, when the reality is that most of us have never had to use that procedure outside of the 4th grade classroom where we (dis)learned it, why are still at it? What service are we doing for our children?

What we need is nothing short of a miracle: we need a quick and painless tool to deeply uncover and plan for our students’ incredibly diverse and complex mathematical needs. That’s all, nothing more. Perhaps it could take 5 minutes to administer, maybe 2 minutes to mark. Results could be colour-coded, graphs could be made, decisions made, money doled out... Is that really too much to ask for? Do we really need something that deeply and permanently disrupts and changes, thereby improving, they way we’ve been taught/teaching math?

The unsettling answer is:


yes.

...and *BOOM* - just like that....

Well, our new principal has been at the helm now for a little more than 2 weeks, and he is doing a fantastic job. This means that he hasn’t disrupted the flow of things too much, but added his little touches that make him the great leader he is. Clearly, I am loving this new guy. I had been waiting for the opportunity to work with an administrator who truly inspires me - one who could lead a group of people, who could find balance in his work, one who really appreciates and reaches out to his staff, one who truly enjoys his work - and I know it is early, but I think this guy is it.

I was reflecting on the process this "new guy" had to go through in order to take over a school in our position - a new school, a year and a half in the making, the recent bringing-together of two separate staffs, and the fresh move-in and all that entails - and I realized: *BOOM* - just like that we are an established school with an existing culture, with our own set of morals and beliefs. I had always maintained that starting a new school was exciting because we all came together and started something with no baggage, meaning that no one could stop something from happening with the simple, yet deadly phrase: that’s not how we are used to doing things.

We came together to start something fresh. Now it is no longer fresh - it is established, and at the risk of going stale. This new guy has to contend with how things we done, and even though we are new, everyone knows how set-in-our-ways teachers are, and how incredibly resistant to change we are. So he has to navigate our waters, and though he is our leader, he (wisely so, I believe) has to stay the course regardless of where he believes we should go (What a great nautical metaphor!). Thank goodness we are going in a good direction! :)

The one thing going for us, in terms of staying off the entrenchment, is that we are still, for the most part, figuring out our school culture. The walls between the two different sites are slowly crumbling, with people more-freely crossing lines drawn in the sand. We are still negotiating what it means to finally be together in our new building. So maybe this is best time to take over an established school.

We have a vision, but there is still opportunity for change.

Well, here’s to hoping!

I am Erin Gruwell

Okay - I really need to preface this (provocative) claim: I am not the brilliant teacher, the inspiration of the must-see film "The Freedom Writers". This movie, by the way, is so effective in cementing a teacher’s sense of righteousness and self-importance, that I am still decompressing my ego, having seen this film over two weeks ago.

No, I am Erin Gruwell for a different reason. Erin lived her passion. She poured her life into her class - and what a dream to have them for 4 years! She dedicated so much to those kids that her personal relationships suffered - almost to the point to total isolation (as the film lead us to believe). I am Erin Gruwell because I too live my passion for teaching, to the point of alienating my family. I dream about my practice at night, I wake up thinking about planning my day, how to more effectively reach certain kids, how to boost the self-esteem of my down-trodden cases, I fantasize about adopting certain kids to save them from themselves, I bring my work home, and the list of neglect of family goes on.

In the past couple of weeks, I have moved to a new school - and for a school already heavily time-committed, we gave up weekends and evenings to ensure that our new building/classes were ready. On top of that, I also had training at the university for an up-coming course I am facillitating. Needless to say (yet I am going to) considerable stress was place on my relationships with my family.

I caught the bitter tirades of my wife with her email buddies. She (and her friends) compared my profession with others, effectively reducing all that I do with the simple toss-off: He’s just a teacher! This says it all, doesn’t it? I furiously clung to my self-inflated importance of my job, holding up my new idol of Erin, claiming that I too do incredible work! I change lives!

Yet do I? The grim reality is that no one really remembers with fondness their grade 3 teacher, saying that it was this person who changed their life forever. There aren’t major movies out about the incredible work done with 8 year olds, and how these amazing teacher’s save all these kids from gang violence, from drug use, from abuse and neglect, all through some trick of sorts (perhaps I can teach them all how to play trombone, letting the music find their frozen hearts, teaching them to ballroom dance, play in an orchestra, act in a Shakespearean play, or write best selling books). Yet I cling to my delusions of grandeur. I secretly wish for the teacher of the year award, the million dollar contract, the whirl-wind book tour, the appearance on Oprah for the fantastic way I am teaching my kids how to visualize when they read.

Where is the balance? Where is the motivation coming from that makes me neglect my wife, leave the raising of my kids to others? What I do is good work, but what is the cost of this?

I am really good at my job. I love to teach because I am very successful at it. I am not so successful at being a parent/husband. It is a struggle, and often coming home, it is a brutal transition from successful teacher to screw-up family man. Perhaps it is this desperate clinging to success that makes me gravitate towards school. Maybe it is desperate need to feel good about myself that I have reflected my teaching onto my self. I am a good person because I am a good teacher.

Yet I am more than just my job. I am so much more. I have been blessed with a wonderful wife and two amazing girls. That is what I will be remembered for - not how I taught factions. That is why I no longer want to be Erin Gruwell.

Erin: You have done something amazing, but the price is something I can’t afford. Good for you. I’ll stay here.

Quality, not Quantity...

A colleague of mine ambushed me at lunch (mostly because she knew I would help her and then some) concerning an inquiry question she had to develop for that evening’s class. She had some up with one, but her instructor had told her (very last minute) that it wasn’t specific enough. So she was stressing over how to revamp her question, as to make it more specific, more measurable, more number-y...

Now, I am fully in support of quality educational change, and am at the forefront of data collection and analysis at my school (currently charting our school wide math data). Yet, I always have bucked at this data-eagerness, because I truly believe anything that is truly worth something within our schools, is not quantify-able (that’s a word, isn’t it?). I believe that we need to set goals within our schools, where everyone is working towards the overall student achievement. I believe we all need to work towards improving our own practices, thereby increasing student success (I even sound number-crazy!). Yet, not everything can be reduced to a percent, nor should it be.

Case in point: As part of our math committee’s initiative, I wanted to put problem solving as an INSTRUCTIONAL method at the forefront of our school’s math thinking. Research has shown that this instructional method works, and the benefits far out-weigh the traditional lecture methods. So, in my manipulating way, I demanded that all the teacher’s collect data on their students’ ability to problem solve. Tests were drawn up (by my committee), administered, data collected and returned to me. I then graphed the abysmal results which I will then present at our next meeting (Monday). However, the crucial step has not been made yet - the translation of our efforts towards ensuring that problem solving is truly ingrained within our daily instruction, not as some add-on at the end of our lesson.

The numbers are not what is important here - yet it is what will get all the attention. "Oh my!" they will say, "Only 17% of this class can problem solve at grade level! Whatever shall we do?" I do not anticipate the conversations to lean towards deep change in our instructional approach, but in remedial support to those poor, affected students. No one will say how unnatural it is to apply a quantity (number) to a judgement call like assessment. No one will say that perhaps my idea of grade level-appropriateness isn’t the same as yours. No one will deeply question this "data", because as we all know: numbers don’t lie (he says foolishly).

I do this because I see it as a way to enact change. I do this because I think it is important that we teach in better ways, and I’ll be damned if everyone else doesn’t see that. I’ve seen the research - and the way we do things isn’t working. Change needs to come quickly, in an institution notoriously slow to change. We need to understand that all that we do is a quality judgement call, and that nothing worth anything can be merely reduced to numbers.

We’ll see on Monday.

PostScript: Un(*frickin’*)believable!

Well, we are in the building for one day when our fear(ful)less principal calls a staff meeting before school. So on Tuesday morning, bleary-eyed and feeling hung over from our triumphant first day, we stumble into the staff meeting. There, our leader of a day has the audacity to announce that she has been promoted to superintendent.
Now - we all knew this was coming. She is driven in every sense of the word, yet I still had my money on her leaving us in September. Couldn’t she at least see us into our building for the year? Yet time (and I guess positions) wait for no man, so as of Monday, we have a new principal.

The funny thing about this is how little emotion I feel about this. There were a couple of people who were weeping openly during the meeting, speeches were made, promises to return were given, yet I could not muster up that emotion. I did feel the sting of the freshly-made foot print on my back, as she discarded us to further her career.

Now what?

I touched base yesterday with a couple of staff who had worked closely with her at the other site, and they were NOT emotional - good riddance I think was the thought. The point was made that as we come together to form this new school, it would be the perfect time for a new administrator. This person could start us fresh, without the obvious favourites and pre-determined scoundrels. We could be together.

She came by yesterday to announce to my class that she was leaving. She seemed emotional, yet my kids were all thinking: Who is this lady, and who the hell cares? She’s only been our principal for 3 days now. So what?

I couldn’t help but laugh.

So maybe we will get our lives back.

So maybe we will start to teach in a positive atmosphere.

So maybe we will begin to get our breathe back.

So maybe the footprint will go away.

It’s Good To Be Home!

Well, we made it. I secretly held out, only believing it when I saw it - when the kids past the threshold and sat down for the first time.

It was a day of firsts - first time ever someone had sat in the desks, first time we used our hooks, first time a Gr. 3 used the bathroom, etc. We celebrated all of it - even to the point to clapping in the first boy and girl into the bathroom (though somewhat inappropriate to celebrate the riddance of bodily waste, we still did it!).

It was an interesting time too as it was the first time we had seen big kids. At our rental site, the Gr. 3s were the oldest, and so were given various responsibilities reserved for the older students. Yesterday, we stopped at marveled at the size of them - like we were on some sort of safari.

We also were getting our first taste of bringing the two staffs together. We started the delicate dance around each other, trying to get our own way without offending, as neither of us knew how to deal with the other. That will break down soon, as we have our first together meeting today where we iron out the details of who goes where, when, etc.

Regardless of the bumps ahead, my god it is good to be home!

T-Minus 11 Hours and Counting...

I spent the large part of the past week thinking, planning, unpacking and setting up my new room - and I cannot get over how ridiculously excited I am about starting at my new school tomorrow morning. I was in for the day today, and was literally bouncing off the walls with excitement. The parent group has put red ribbon across the door for us to cut before we enter. I plan on getting all the kids to sit at the same time and celebrate how they are the first to sit in these desks. The day will be filled with firsts: the first time to line up, the first to use the bathroom, the first to use the fountain, etc... Very little curriculum will happen tomorrow, but so much learning will happen. They will be creating memories that will last for a lifetime. This is exciting stuff!

I don’t think I will be able to sleep tonight. I know I will be wound up - but I am prepared. The room is set up. The day is planned. I am good to go.

I do think I will be emotional tomorrow - just so damn proud to finally give this brand new school to my kids. Finally, we made it! We survived the experience, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We did it!

I [heart] Books!

Yesterday, as I was unpacking my 10th, 11th, 12th box of books, it slowly dawned on me: perhaps I have too many books. In my rough estimates, I must have over 2000 books for my classroom library, culled from the 8 years I’ve been teaching, a steady addiction to book sales, a shameless promotion of Scholastic book orders, and plugs for gifts at Christmas. So yesterday I did something I had never done before: I threw some out!

Even as I write that I have an urge to justify it, saying that they were old, irrelevant, broken, etc., all in an effort not to be equated with the book-burning fanatics that disgust me. I also put a whole box of books away - those that weren’t appropriate for my Grade 3 class.

What is it about books that has me so enthralled? I love teaching literacy. Along with numeracy, it is the key skill that our students must master before leaving school. I passionately read, write, speak and question, and I expect that from all of my students. In order to do this, they must read, write, speak and question. Every teacher of literacy needs books. Every teacher of literacy needs a well maintained and thoughtful classroom library, where books are read daily - and independently. Children need to make their own choices, regardless of levels. I believe that leveling books is the greatest injustice we can do for our students - if we keep them fenced within these levels, and only progress in a lock-step manner. Children need to choose books that are "Just Right" for them, based on interest, topic, ability, etc. They need to be empowered to read, not as a chore thrust upon them.

My students have made HUGE gains this year in their reading because they’ve been reading! They’ve been reading in an authentic and real way, not mindlessly pouring over worksheets then answering a series of questions based on the reading. They have been taught what good readers do to understand the books, and we’ve all worked on this. They’ve been taught how to make sense of the book. They’ve been taught how to love reading, because reading makes sense to them! They’ve been taught in a social, supportive and safe environment. My kids can read because their teacher loves books.

So maybe it is time to look at quality, not just quantity. Maybe it is time to spend money elsewhere - but who’s kidding who? This is a full on addiction! Bring on the books!

The Clash of the Righteous

Well, it is 4 more days and counting (only 40 more periods of school left, only 26 more hours) until we officially move into our new building - and boy is it going to be interesting!

Let’s start with a little history. Almost 2 years ago, the "best and the brightest" were recruited to open this new school in our district. The principal, who had made a name for herself as an up and comer, was serving in an administrative leadership position (she over saw a group of schools, dealt with issues, mentored principals, etc) and had been selected to open this school. Her vision was nothing short of spectacular. She wanted this school to be a flagship school in our area, hiring those who are willing to go the extra mile in the name of student achievement. Our school is divided up into PLCs (professional Learning Communities), each working towards goals that promote student success.

This has been an amazing experience, not only for the PD, but for learning how much we are actually capable of. Because we started our school with no building, we divided up into 2 campuses, renting space out of two other schools (both radically different than our philosophy). However, what has been truly fascinating about this process is the relationships developed among the staff. The kindergartens and primaries are at one site, led, in part, by our fearless, if somewhat de-clawed vice-principal. The juniors and intermediates (gr. 4 - 8) are at another site, (over)driven by the principal.

Since we’ve been in operation for a year and a half now, both sites have lost perspective on what the other side is all about. Case in point: Yesterday, we had a snow day. All the buses were cancelled, but the school remained open. This meant that if your child was to come to school, all the teachers would be there, but you would have to drop them off and pick them up. I had 16 out of 22 show up, an average number for classes at our site. In total, the rumor had it, the other site had 40 kids show up. Part way through the day, they started calling parents to come pick up the kids. We valiantly taught on. Not such a big deal in and of itself. Yet the reaction from our staff was explosive! How dare they! They can’t do that! Why can’t we send our kids home? We work so much harder than they do! ... and on and on.

The general theme of resentment runs along the lines of "We work harder than they do because...". It manifests itself in so many subtle ways. An email will go out - how about everyone meeting for drinks Friday after school? The response from them? We can’t - we work late on Friday - we have so many after school commitments, we all coach, we give, we give, we give.... And we don’t? And of course, our site staff get so fired up - how dare they, we work hard too, come teach my class... and on and on and on.

Come Monday, it will be fascinating to see the two sites/philosophies come together. Not sure if it will be traumatic, but dramatic it will be. Having been apart for so long, I think we all have forgotten how the other half lives. There definately will be an adjustment period, and I think it will be bumpy - and I wonder if student achievement will suffer? I guess we’ll see.

Measured in Whispers and Shuffles

I’ve been reading a couple other teacher blogs, and in particular has stood out for me: Teaching in the 408. This guy writes with passion and integrity, yet manages to "keep it real" about the harsh realities of teaching. By no stretch of the imagination do I picture him as the teddy-bear-sweater/holiday earrings type of teacher, but as the down-to-earth, passionate teacher you always wish you had.

In a previous post called (dis)quiet, he spoke passionately and bluntly about the deep melancholy that so often descends upon us within the trenches. That got me thinking.... (here it comes... wait for it!): What is it that keeps us teaching, when there are so many reasons not to?

I’m reminded again of Teddy (see previous post), and how deeply I bought into his propaganda, so readily patted myself on my back like I was the teacher who changed his life forever and was invited to his wedding, blah, blah, blah. I am NOT Teddy’s teacher, yet I secretly yearn to be. Why?

We are in a profession where success - deep, meaningful, daily success - is often measured in whispers and shuffles along a continuum. Rarely, do I think, do we come across a Teddy in our career - someone who’s life we deeply affect, and who we can truly say we put upon a successful path. No, deep within the trenches of daily life, success can be seen in the small, minute things that our students do: they chose a book that they can actually read, they solved an unknown word by themselves, they stopped for a second before writing down an incorrect word (at least they paused!). These things aren’t life altering, let’s shine up the Teacher of the Year Award, call Hollywood for another inspiring drama/Oscar opportunity - I’d be played by Patrick Dempsey, but that’s neither here nor there.

It is so easy to get down on ourselves because this is, in large part, a thankless job. Not only that, it is a job that everyone feels they have the right to criticize, because everyone has been through the educational system - everyone had that teacher that sucked so they know what good teaching must look like. Plus we’ve got a kick-*ss vacation plan... so...

Yet not only is success small, it is often few and far between, largely out-weighed by the sliding-backwards, the regressions that occur, and certainly paling in comparison to the success that WE see within each of our students. I have huge plans for my Grade 3 kids, and continually get disappointed (deeply, personally disappointed - almost betrayed) when they don’t live up to these expectations I’ve foisted upon their little lives. I want so badly for my students to do well. Though, tempering that is the newly-found realization that I only have 10 months with them. It has taken 7, 8, 9 years to get them this way. In the grand scheme of things, I can do what I can, but can I work miracles? Sometimes! Yet that is rare, but sometimes is enough to keep me going....

... even when I want to give up.
... even when I feel largely unappreciated.
... even when I am continually disappointed with the profession at large.
... even when I am frustrated by my fellow colleagues lack of motivation.
... even when my parents are upset with my methods.

Yet this Sometimes is what we cling to. It is these myths of excellence, these fictionalized stories of success, these Chicken Soup for the Soul moments that we feverently grasp, latch onto, to tell ourselves that we do good work.

We do good work. That will have to be enough.

I Hate The Bell Curve

I "came of age" in my teaching career in Ontario when the new curriculum came in. With it came a new way of marking, which still holds true for today. In Ontario we are on a 4 level system (numbered accordingly), with a Level 3 meaning that the student has met the expectation, Level 2 has some difficulty and Level 1 means they have significant difficultly. Originally, I interpreted a Level 4 to mean that the student has exceeded the expectation. They have gone above and beyond what was expected. These 4 levels have corresponding letter grades, ranging from an ‘A’ to a ‘D’.

I still don’t know who exactly told me about the bell curve, but it was made very clear that these levels can be place on the bell curve, with the majority of the students (who are average) falling in the Level 3 range, which is fine. They have met the expectation. Following the logic of the bell curve, there shouldn’t be too many students with a Level 4, and if there was, there was suspicion that you are marking too easily and inflating the student marks. If that was the case, administration would look critically at your practice and change it accordingly.

Being involved in the opening of a new school who has taken to heart the research on effective schools, we know (almost chant, like a Wal-mart greeting) that every child is capable of high levels of achievement, though not on the same day nor in the same way. This flies in the face of the bell curve. If every child is capable of demonstrating a Level 4 demonstration of knowledge and understanding, thinking, communication and application, then why do we cap the successes of our students?

I’ve beginning to see cracks in the thinking about these levels. No longer do we hear that a Level 4 is exceeding the expectation, but that they are demonstrating a THOROUGH understanding. Well, that changes things completely.

To our benefit, my kids have been working really hard (and myself, doubly so to ensure that no child is left behind) in demonstrating all that they know. We are readily sharing what good work looks like, and there are many opportunities for us to practice before given the opportunity to show our very best work.

I didn’t realize until this year how incredibly limiting it is to have only a few students achieving a level 4, and conversely believing that there are certain students who are a ‘C’ student and that was okay. Truly, it is not okay. If our teaching is to be effective, then we need to look carefully at how we are going to get ALL our students to achieve.

Isn’t this what teaching, and Learning For All is all about?

Teddy Can Kiss My *SS!

Every few years, I get forwarded the same sappy email meant to re-affirm all that we do as teachers, a shameless self-promotion of sorts reassuring us that we are indeed doing good work. Mine came yesterday again in the form of a movie telling the Teddy Stoddard story (any teacher with any experience knows this story and all its cheesy glory!). If you haven’t, then check out this link: www.teachermovie.com. In a nutshell, it reminds us (as teachers) have that unmistakable power to touch our students and change their lives forever...

Well...

I really don’t know why I feel so powerful about this. On the one hand, I have to stifle the immediate gag-reflex, overdosing on the saccharine-sappiness of it all. My God, get a grip! We are teachers, not UN Ambassadors/Mother Teresas/Doctors Without Borders!!! We have it pretty good and don’t need this shameless self-promotion. On the other hand, choking back tears, I so easily slip into the role of humanity’s savior: I can indeed change this world!
I do know that part of my resentment of how simply I was "got" - and how easily I am overcome with emotion over my job, my passion. I liken this to my resentment of Nicholas Sparks. A few years back when I still rode the bus to work, I would devour novel after novel. In desperation for something, I grabbed The Notebook by Sparks, and even though I could see how cheap and obvious it was, I could see it coming a mile away, I was still weeping openly on the bus on my way home. Damn you Sparks!

So it is this feeling that I direct towards Teddy. But I am also comforted in my decision to care.
I have always been really program-focussed. My teaching is amazing, as I am always tuned into my student success, squeezing every possible moment of "time on task" out of my kids, all in the name of success. However, I have been lacking in the caring department.

I went to a workshop this year on successful schools, and the speaker (Wayne Hulley) spoke of effective schools setting two types of goals for their kids: success in competence, and success in character. I rock in the competency area. Character, not so much... that is, until this year. I have vowed to teach this year from a caring perspective. I look deeply within each of my students, and regularly tell them how special they are. Interestingly enough, it is this year that I have seen the greatest growth and change throughout my whole career. I have a couple of "Teddys" in my room, and I can honestly say with conviction that they are successful because of me - not parents, not development, not any other outside factor, but simply because as their teacher, I care deeply about them.

Teddy, thank you again for your message and your reminder of how important our work is. Even though you got me again, I forgive you.

Just Like Mom

Well, I’ve survived another Christmas. Our house is currently bursting at the seams, both from the load of loot I’ve hauled home from school (God, you gotta love being a primary teacher) and from the RIDICULOUS amount of gifts my two daughters got. My oldest is 2 and a half, and my youngest is 10 months old - I say that because both are really happy getting a box and some noisy paper to play with. Instead, they had to be bribed and cajoled into opening all their gifts. In fact, there are still two gifts that aren’t opened yet.... yet my offense over our opulence is neither here nor there.

One memorable gift my oldest got from a friend was a set called "Just Like Mom". It has an apron and a series of cleaning utensils (booms, mops, sponges, "cleaning bottles, etc.). Ironically, it isn’t mom who cleans in our house - it is dad.

This got me thinking (a phrase which makes my administrator nervous): how do I address gender stereotypes in my class?

I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately on Boy’s Literacy - reading David Booth’s book "Even Hockey Players Read" - not incredible, but has some interesting points. The biggest point that stands out for me (and I’m not even sure it is his point) is that when we, as teachers, complain amongst our colleagues about our classes, we would never say: "I’ve got lots of black kids", but we so easily say that we’ve got a class full of boys, and immediately we get knowing and empathetic reassurances not to worry, as it too will pass.

One of my most hated host-teachers (the person who let me teach their class while I will doing my B. Ed) saw herself as the epitome of progressive/feminist/new wave thinking - but dismissed her as being weird (not because of her "feminist" thinking, but because she was weird - she thought she was very cool for having a sand centre in her grade 2 class...). One thing she did leave me with was when picking people to move furniture, she made me think about who I was picking, not always and only boys.

This came back to haunt me on the last day of class. We were showing "The Polar Express" to the entire Primary Division (gr. 1 - 3) and I was bringing my stereo system to hook up to the movie. I picked people sitting close to the stereo to move it and the speakers - and before I caught myself, I had picked 3 boys to carry the system. Not to be sexist, I chose a girl (who was sitting far away) to carry the last piece - the cord. In the end, I felt cheap and a promoter of tokenism at its best.

It is funny how these beliefs and values can (mis)inform our practice, and despite our best efforts we just end up re-affirming all that we dread.

Learning For Al

Throughout the school we are currently renting space in, there appear these posters - directed towards whom, I’m still not sure. These posters have current education slogans and sayings on them. There is one in particular, posted just outside of the bathroom I ritually haunt, that is entitled "Learning For Al". Either it is a typo, or it is promotional piece outlining the school’s plan to educate Al - lucky him.

Under this (mis)leading title is the 4 critical questions as outlined by the Effective School’s Guru Richard DuFour:
1. What is it we want our students to learn?
2. How will we know when they have learned it?
3. How will we respond when they haven’t?
4. How will we respond when they have?

These questions have huge implications for our teaching, and many a staff meeting at my school was spent exploring how to successfully implement this philosophy. Truly we live this philosophy, it is embedded so deeply within our practice that our teaching pracitcally breathes it. We are entirely committed to student achievement: For God’s sake, our school motto is "Learning for All" - Al needs to look elsewhere for his personal plan of action.
My issue is this: do parents really care? Is this who these posters of self-congratulatory pomp is for? We know it - we live it. So what is with the posters?

I’ve long been thinking how deeply entrenched we are, as teachers, within our own little world. We spend many an hour congratulating ourselves for how hard we work, and how the public truly doesn’t get that. Yet we, as a profession, make little effort to bridge the gap of public perception. I’m thinking of how hard it is for parents to come in an volunteer at the school - they need to fill out a form, get a police criminal record check and participate in a short in service before stepping inside of the school - but not their son/daughter’s classroom. Apparently we fear the gossiping and spying that would occur.

We behave as a profession that have something to hide, yet make it so difficult to show the truly amazing things we do. Why do we post these posters of edu-speak, yet don’t show how we truly live this message?