Where Are We Going?: Creating a class mission statement

September 14, 2017September 13, 2017 ~ Scott Jones ~ 2 Comments

The Flock is about to finish its fourth week of school. Our classroom is up and running. Our daily routines are mostly established. Beginning of the year assessments are nearly complete. Most importantly, our classroom community is continuing to grow and get stronger each day. Spending a great deal of time in the first weeks discussing “Lessons From The Geese” is proving to pay off. My students and I have discussed why we are called The Flock. We’ve discussed how we need to work together, learn from each other, and treat each other as partners on this learning adventure. We are on our way traveling as a community of learners. However, the MOST critical part of our journey can be explained by answer this one very simple question.

Where are we going?

My students and I had spoken a great deal about this learning journey, but it was time to establish a destination. What is our purpose? What is our goal? I wanted to make sure that my students knew why we come to our classroom every day, other than, “My parents make me” or “because I’m legally obligated to be here.”

I have found that creating a mission statement plays a crucial role in building my classroom community. Bringing students into the creation process empowers them to take more ownership of their learning. A class mission statement can also:

Ensure a common language for all students
Provide students with a purpose for each lesson and assignment
Encourage goal-setting and growth mindset
Bring a sense of pride to the classroom

Before we wrote our mission statement, I felt it was important for us to know what a mission statement is, as well as look at examples of mission statements. After clarifying that a mission statement is not when the video game states your new mission on the next level of Call Of Duty, we determined that it is simply a statement of purpose and focus. I shared mission statements from well-known corporations like Apple, Facebook, Amazon and McDonalds. Together we noticed that most mission statements answer these questions: What do the company do? How is the company helping their customers? Why is our company important? I asked students to think at home about how we could answer these same questions for our classroom.

The following day, we gathered on the carpet and one student started our conversation by saying, “we are our own customers. We learn for ourselves.” Students seemed very impressed with this insight, so I asked them to brainstorm a list of answers to these four questions:

Who are we?
What do we want to accomplish?
How are we going to accomplish it?
Why is it important to accomplish this?

Students returned after 10 minutes, and I recorded their answers to each question using Google Docs. After much debate, I asked students to vote for their top two answers for each question. These top two answers for each question would be used to create our final mission statement. You can see our brainstorming list and voting process here.

Once voting was complete, our final mission statement was written by simply combining what the students selected. Here is what we came up with:

Creating the mission statement was only the first step. Now, it is our job as a community to live by this and make sure that everything we do is an example of our shared mission. I have posted this in our classroom, as well as outside of our classroom door. Students know that I’ve put a copy of this mission statement into my guest teacher folder, so when I am out of the classroom any substitute teacher will know what we stand for. I have challenged students to always ask themselves how every assignment and project fits with our mission statement. If they can’t see a connection, I encourage them to ask me.

One thing that my students have heard me say is “the nine months of fifth grade is a just one part of your learning journey.” Our life as a learner is a long, gradual adventure with many stops along the way. Perhaps that’s why “The Flock” metaphor has become the cornerstone of my classroom community. We’re all going to be in the classroom together every day for nine months. So we might as well go on this learning journey together with a common destination. I hope that our mission statement inspires a community mindset and empowers students to support each other along the way.

A New Reading Community

August 29, 2017August 28, 2017 ~ Lea Kelley ~ Leave a comment

For blog — He was reading to find new ways to describe how awesome he is at basketball.

This year I’ll be leading four sections of what I’m going to call Reading for students who need additional time and support in that subject. Our school is committed to 30 minutes of independent reading in school every day and an additional 30 minutes outside of school, but the school reading is a challenge in our 45-60 minute class periods, and outside-of-school reading is a work in progress. So this year, for the first time, students with the highest need will have an extra period devoted just to independent reading and expert coaching.

Personally, I would have loved nothing better than to have an entire period devoted to reading when I was a student, but I worry about how some students who already dislike reading will react to an extra period of reading. And no matter how hard I try to sell the class as a way to grow more quickly as a reader, many students will view placement in this class as reinforcement that they are not good at reading, or at school in general. So even as I organize books and track down intervention materials and debate how to set up the classroom furniture, I know that two things will have to happen before they can embrace this class.

One, I will need to build strong relationships with my students. Many students will be new to me this year since I’ll be teaching a wider range of grades than I did last year. Some of them have spent the majority of their time in school struggling with reading (and thus with every class that requires reading), and I’m going to be asking them to read a lot. I’m going to be asking them to get better when they may have spent years thinking, or even being told, that they’re just not good at reading.

Which brings me to two, mindset. It’s going to be tremendously important that my students believe that they can get better at reading, that reading isn’t some magical power that you either have or you don’t. If no one taught you that “-ch” makes a “-k” sound in the word “stomach”, then a lot of the reading that you try to do in middle and high school is a lot like when I try to read extremely basic French. I recognize a few of the words, but the rest is a mystery.

So how will I begin?

Our school is Pre-K to 12, and our reading curriculum emphasizes that at the earliest reading level, Read-to-Me, students need to have a background of 500+ books read to them. So my reading classes will spend as much time as we can reading to our kindergartners in September. Reading is reading, so even time spent reading a simple book of sight words will build confidence and fluency in my older readers (and build relationships with our youngest learners).

We will also build reading relationships between students in our class. Even though the class is primarily independent work (at this point, no one is reading the same book), we will be sharing and talking at the end of our reading sessions. I’ll use academic scripts and sentence frames to help my students to turn and talk about their book. Since our classroom reading environment will depend on cooperation among students, building confidence and trust will be key.

I loved Andrea’s post “What Are You Superpowers?” on Saturday. I immediately wanted school to start so that I could find out all of my student’s superpowers. To apply my reading teacher lens, I wonder who will be my experts on certain books or subjects? Who will know the backstory for every Marvel comic? Who will be the best at getting the quietest kindergartener to read with them?

Most of all, I’ll build our community with a lot of kindness. This is a scary course for students. I’m going to be asking them to get better at something that is currently very hard for many of them. They may not have had a lot of success with reading, or it’s not something they like. This is not a class for tough love or rigid behavior expectations. I’ll feed them. We’ll celebrate birthdays, and reading milestones. We’ll grow together.

I’ll keep my eyes on the prize: Reading community for all.

What Are Your Superpowers?

August 26, 2017August 24, 2017 ~ Andrea Smith ~ 5 Comments

“I have 5 younger brothers and sisters. My superpower is that I am really good at helping somebody feel better because at my house, someone is always needing something like a band aid or a hug.”

“My superpower is that I am good at showing others how to use technology. I think computer might be my second language.”

“I am really organized. My superpower is helping to clean things up and make them look nice. Our team’s supply tub looks really good because of me.”

“I’m really good at helping new kids make friends. Everybody needs at least one friend. I’m good at helping others be together at recess or lunch.”

We are good at book recommendations.

“I can help at Chapman Elementary because I speak two languages. I know that you cannot speak or read Arabic, Mrs. Smith…so I can help you with students or their parents.”

“After my mom died, I learned to be a good listener. At my house, my brothers and sisters, but especially my dad needed quiet time to think about things after my mom died. When someone at my house needs to talk, it’s important we pay attention. My superpower is listening because sometimes a good listener is what someone needs to feel better.”

“My superpower is music. I love playing piano for others…it makes me happy to see people smile and sit while they listen to me play.”

These are some of the quotes lifted from recent interviews with my students. Sifting through my notes the other evening, I smiled, I cried, I laughed, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. There is hope for our world when we uncover the strengths students carry in their hearts and spirits. I am renewed with determination every time I think about the amazing children surrounding me each day in our classroom. These kids are my heroes and heroines, making my community better one day at a time with their superpowers.

Before I start focusing on last year’s test scores and this year’s baseline assessments, I need to acquaint myself with the superheroes residing in my classroom. In a world challenged by so many issues, I gain priceless information when I take time to discover the many gifts and talents my students bring to our classroom community. In today’s world, we don’t need someone who can lift a boulder, but we do need someone who lifts the spirits of others. Our community doesn’t need someone who can out-battle enemy storm troopers in another galaxy, but we do need someone who can unify a group with friendship and respect. We need skilled listeners and bilingual community members that respect the voice and perspectives of our diverse community.

This is why we need to know our children.

Our superpowers: Helping someone who is sad or lonely feel better.

We notice other people.

I start the year sharing an Ignite-style collection of images that capture what I believe to be my “superpowers.” I share a few slides each day with a short explanation of my strengths. With each slide, I talk about my perceived talents that I bring to my school and home community.

I show a picture of a bookshelf in my classroom. My superpower is that I can help kids find captivating books. I turn kids into literacy ambassadors determined to turn the world into a community of readers.

I show a picture of a beautiful meal, my favorite recipe to prepare for my family. My superpower is that I know the healing power of healthy food and the value of sitting down at the dinner table together. I want all of my students to always have breakfast and lunch, so I let them know, “If you are worried about groceries, come and see me so we can work this out.” I want to make sure that families have information and access to nutrition programs as needed.

I show a picture of me trying to do Crow Pose, a tricky yoga balance. My superpower is NOT that I am great at yoga or any sport for that matter. However, I am brave enough to try something hard, something that challenges me. I want to be reminded of the challenges and frustrations students face as learners. My goal is not to be perfect. My goal is to keep trying, to keep going after something that is difficult. When I keep trying, I am proud. When I tip over, I laugh, but roll up and try again. I am a super-heroine because I am determined to get better.

After a few days of my personal stories and being together in our classroom, students start to feel comfortable enough to chat with me about themselves. During a mini-lesson, I explain how readers and writers rely on understanding the strengths of characters to help them understand and explain their stories. Since a classroom is a living story, we need to know one another. As I’ve revealed what I believe to be my own superhero talents, I now want to know what makes my students special or unique.

Rather than put children on the spot, I meet with informal groups. Using a simple question, I launch a conversation and record the comments of children.

What are some of your super powers?

We can speak two languages. Can you?

As we talk, children are inspired to think about their talents in new ways. With guidance, my soccer players move past their skill sets and number of goals scored to consider they are cooperative leaders who know how to work together with teammates. I discover the budding mechanics who like fixing things; then I know who will be tending our pencil sharpener throughout the year. Students who excel at caring for siblings often become the caregivers not only to classmates in need, but our classroom plants and pets. Children who view themselves as active and fun become a go-to person for shy kids looking for a playmate at recess.

We like taking care of the lunch boxes each day.

As each group talks with me, the others in the room are thankfully eavesdropping on the conversation. As discussions unfold, things that matter to children are presented.

“I’m really good at untangling knots in shoelaces.”

“I’m an expert at redoing ponytails and braids because I do all of my sisters’ hair at home in the morning to help my mom get us ready for school.”

“I love to listen to someone who is sad and help them figure out a solution to the problem. My sister fusses a bunch at home, so I’m good at stopping the whining.”

As I take notes, we build a web of our class’ superpowers.

Screen Shot 2017-08-24 at 9.14.37 PM

As kids see our growing visual display of superpower categories, they often add their names to the evolving lists. Using small photos of the kids, I add their pictures to the names listed with our “superpowers” so our community can see and recognizes the strengths and expertise of others in the classroom. Our superpowers web becomes a community bulletin board, used like Angie’s List, a resource used by adults to find goods and services around the community. Your shoelaces somehow got tangled? Go and see Ali. You need someone to help you with editing your story? Go and find Omar. If you are not feeling well and Mrs. Smith is sending you to the nurse, ask Remaz to walk you down because she is good at helping others feel better.

One way to create a strong, close-knit community is to build the confidence and awareness of its members. If a child feels valued for the strengths or life-skills he or she brings to the classroom, that same child will be more willing to be a risk-taker as learning opportunities unfold during the school year. When children feel valued by classmates, connections are established and a supportive community thrives. Every student, no matter his story or her challenges, has something to contribute. It is up to us as leaders in our learning communities to take the time to discover and celebrate those superheroes and super-heroines amongst us. We need them. In this sometimes crazy world, we need one another.

Lessons From The Geese

August 24, 2017August 24, 2017 ~ Scott Jones ~ 1 Comment

I had a completely different post ready to go for today. However, I was inspired to write this new post because of a letter I received this morning from a former student.

Today is day three of school, and I’m standing at my classroom door ready to greet my new fifth graders. I see one of them, Marta, turn the corner. She’s walking briskly down the hallway with an arm extended in front of her. Marta approaches me and says, “Good morning. Stick out your hand please.” Uncertain of what’s about to happen, I do as she requests. Into my hand falls a carefully folded piece of paper. Thankful that it’s just paper and not something worse, I open the paper and read. It’s a letter from Marta’s brother, Diego, who was in my class two years ago. The letter reads:

Dear Mr. Jones,

Hi, It’s Diego. I am in seventh grade now, but you probably already know that. Or maybe you don’t. I like seventh grade. My teachers are nice. I’m really glad that my sister is in your class. Now, she get’s (sic) to learn about The Flock. I loved being in The Flock because I learned about thinking of other people.

Your friend,
Diego

This simple gesture made me realize that one of my former students appreciated being a member of our classroom community so much that he wanted his sister to have the same experience.

“The Flock” is an idea I was introduced to as a teenager when a coach used it during a pep talk. It originates from a piece of writing called Lessons From The Geese, which describes the science behind why a flock of geese flies in a V-formation. You can find this piece of writing here. I use these facts about the migratory patterns of geese to start off the year with a series of conversations about respect, collaboration, ownership and kindness. I guess I think of this piece of writing as a mentor text that becomes the framework for our classroom culture.

These lessons can be applied to any group, and I’ve found that they work perfectly for initiating the discussion about our classroom norms. We begin by reading Lessons From The Geese as a class. Students work in small groups to make comparisons of how geese work as a team and how students work together in a classroom. We revisit these lessons almost daily during the first weeks of school. My goal is to ensure that students have a strong understanding of this metaphor and how it relates to our work in the classroom.

Here is the list of facts, followed by how these facts can be used to build the culture in a classroom:

FACT: By flying in a V-formation, the whole flock adds around 70% greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.
LESSON: If we are part of a learning community that has a common purpose or direction, then we will be more successful in meeting their learning goals and making improvements. Our behaviors will affect our classmates.

FACT: Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go through it alone and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the power of the flock.
LESSON: It is important that we work together, collaborate, learn from each other and share ideas. If we do these things, each person will reach their goals easier than if they try to do it alone. We must trust the power of the team.

FACT: When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back in the wing and another goose takes over.
LESSON: The teacher will not always be the leader. We must share ownership of our classroom community. We all need to be responsible for our own learning. We should always stand up and own our behavior. Also, our community must remain strong even when there is a guest teacher in the classroom.

FACT: Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep their speed.
LESSON: Our communication with one another needs to be positive and supportive. We are all here for the same reason, and we need to be respectful to everyone. We need to give each other feedback that is constructive and helpful.

FACT: When a goose gets sick or is wounded and falls out of formation, two geese fall out of the formation and follow the injured one down to help and protect it.
LESSON: It is important for us to work together, but we also need to care about each other. We should look out for each other and support each other when someone is feeling down. Every single student should feel physically and emotionally safe in our classroom community.

Our series of discussions in the first weeks of school culminates with each Flock member, including me, writing a paragraph answering questions such as: “How will YOU contribute to the Flock this year?” or “Which lesson from the geese means the most to you?” In years past, students answered this question by writing their answer on a goose outline glued to construction paper. I then hung these paper geese from the ceiling in a V-formation after school, so the next morning students would come in surprised to see our Flock on display. Unfortunately, my local fire marshal has smothered that idea.

After a few weeks of daily conversations to start the year, it’s time for The Flock to take flight. Even though our discussions about this metaphor decrease, I try to weave it into our daily routine as much as I can. I don’t address the group by saying “Ok, boys and girls…” Instead, I say, “Listen up, Flock members!” We have daily Flock meetings where we sit in a circle (more conducive to discussions than a “V”) to reflect on our goals and evaluate the day. Our class Twitter, Instagram and website all are titled “The Flock.” I feel an important part of any strong community is a shared vision along with common language. For me, “The Flock” is what provides these things. My students grow to love the fact that we are the only class in the school with a name. They also learn that once you are in The Flock, you are always in The Flock.

Eight years ago, I will never forget when a student shared this idea about the flock at one of our daily meetings. She said that a flock of geese and a class of students are similar because they are both on a journey. Geese are in a v-formation on a journey for food and warmth and a flock of students is on a journey of learning. As teachers, we want to create an environment where their journey is a success. I hope that “The Flock” gives my students a sense of community that will make their learning journey easier. I hope “The Flock” motivates them to think of others before they think of themselves. I hope “The Flock” allows them to go on their journey through fifth grade with sense of purpose and a passion for growth. Diego’s letter gives me hope that it does.

Geese4

photo credit: pecooper98362 Where The Wild Geese Go via photopin (license)

Learn Their Names, Learn Their Story

July 25, 2017August 4, 2017 ~ Aliza Werner ~ 14 Comments

In fifth grade, my teacher was firm, but loving. She played the harp, had emerald green eyes, and read aloud Tuck Everlasting to our class. We rapped about rainforests, memorized the Fifty Nifty United States, and kept chameleons in aquariums (except for the one that escaped, making for a frantic morning search around the classroom!). I loved being in her class, but every day, the whole grade switched to different teachers for reading. Despite being an enthusiastic reader at home, I dreaded my reading teacher’s class from the beginning, all because of one thing. She refused to learn my name.

My name is Aliza.
It is derived from Hebrew.
Depending on the etymology, it means “joyful” or “oath of God”.
There are not many of us. I have only met one other Aliza, in person, in my life.
My name is pronounced “ah-LEE-zah”.
It rhymes with (The Leaning Tower of) Pisa and (The Pyramids of) Giza. Caesar, if you’re from Boston.

My entire life, I have heard my name pronounced incorrectly. Alyssa, Alisa, Alizay, Elise, Azalea, Aliva, Liza, Allie, Eliza (thanks Hamilton!). I empathize with the harried baristas, well-meaning teachers, and hopeful telemarketers as they bite their lips and take a stab at my name out loud. If it’s wrong, not to worry. I say “Thank you. It’s ah-LEE-zah.” (Although the telemarketers get some version of “I’m sorry. Eliza isn’t here right now. She’s out with Angelica and Peggy at a revel with some rebels on this hot night.”)

So, imagine my experience as a shy, rule-following, teacher-pleasing 10 year old when my reading teacher looked at my name on her attendance sheet, wrinkled her nose, and tried…“Alisa”. Correcting her, “It’s Aliza, with a Z.” She tried again. Man, Zs are difficult! Giving up all too soon, she spoke words that have stuck with me to this day:

“Ack! That’s too hard. I love Charlotte’s Web, so I’m going to call you Charlotte.”

She nicknamed me after one of literature’s most beloved characters, and Charlotte is a lovely name, but there is one problem. It is not MY name. Embarrassed, I cried the whole bus ride home that afternoon. When I told my parents that night, they encouraged me to tell her I did not like that name. It took every fiber of bravery saved up over my entire life to walk up to her soon after, surrounded by her favorite students, to say: “I don’t like being called Charlotte. It’s not my name.” Her response? An eyebrow raise, a smirk, and

“Oh! You don’t like Charlotte? Then I’ll call you Wilbur.”

A pig. A boy.

I suffered in silence, afraid to speak up again, to correct or share my hurt feelings with this adult. Too introverted to take the risk. Too anonymous to overcome my fears of becoming an original human with a name again. So I faded into the background for the rest of the year to survive her class.

Names are more than just words. They are an intangible tattoo of a person’s identity. They represent tradition and heritage, originality and creativity, honor and hope. Our name is the first thing that ever belongs to us in this world. Receiving a name is a ceremony, a rite of passage, in many religions and cultures. Being Jewish, I had a baby naming, where my Hebrew name, Havalah Shira, was bestowed. My Catholic dad chose his confirmation name, Paul. Names are a clue to identity, an invitation to others to learn more. They help cultivate a sense of self and can embody who we are and what we want to become.

Names have stories. They honor family members, here and gone. They reference favorite characters in literature and films. They allude to memories, feelings, places, and inspirations. Years ago, I had a student whose parents named their five kids with anagrams of their father’s first name. If you are like me, your name was chosen because your parents liked it and thought it to be original. The story of your name might just start with you.

Names can change. Whether by force or by choice, they transform and adjust. Names have inherent power and meaning. Name-calling bullies, dehumanizes, and denigrates others. To show respect to others, learn their names.

When you know someone’s name, it is the entry point to knowing that person more deeply. When you learn your students’ names, you acknowledge their existence. You convey to them “I see you. You are important to me. I value your story.” Learning their names is the first step in growing trust, rapport, relationships, and equitable classroom communities.

It’s as easy as:

On the first day of school, ask students how to pronounce their names. Ask them to teach you and insist on taking the time to get it right.
Ask students what they prefer to be called. Do they have a nickname? Does Christopher prefer Chris? Does Jasmine feel comfortable with Jazz?
Have multiples of the same name in your class? Allow Sophia and Sofia, and Jaxon and Jackson to steer a conversation with you about how to avoid confusion in using their names aloud. Will you use last initials? A nickname? And if Jaxon and Jackson prefer their name and nothing else, that is what you accept and honor.
Start every morning (or class period) at the door outside of your classroom to greet your students by name: “Good morning, Dejah!”, “Love that new haircut, Henry!”, “Oooh, what are you reading, Ahmed?”, “Mia! How was swim practice last night?”
Whether through a formal project or stolen moments, take time to ask students about their names: how they were named and what their name means to them.
If it’s your own name that throws the curveball, remember to kindly correct, be assertive, and offer opportunities for others to practice and learn it. I put the pronunciation of my name in my Twitter profile.

Many years later, near the end of summer, I saw that teacher in a restaurant. In the fantasy scenario in my head, I would have walked up to her and said:

To my dad, I’m Leezie.
To my mom, I’m Ali (ah-LEE).
To my nieces and nephews, I’m Auntie Leez.
To my high school softball teammates, I’m Al.
To my coach, I’m Z.
To my Deaf Education professors in college, I’m the hand sign for the letter “A” with a twist on my cheek.
To my students, I’m Mrs. Werner.
To you, I’m Aliza. It rhymes with Giza. Please learn it.

Instead, I walked mindfully into my classroom that new school year ready to learn the names of 22 young people. Pronouncing our students’ names accurately and respectfully is a true welcome into our classrooms. They hear you speak their names and their hearts ignite. Their confidence grows. Their dignity is defended.

Learn their names, learn their story.