We have passed the halfway mark of the school year in my district. During this time of the year, I always reflect (actually overthink and overanalyze) about what we have accomplished to this point. My reflections usually involve two areas; the learning we have accomplished and the richness of the community. I have never had a formal list to help focus my reflection but this year I did jot down a handful of questions for both learning and community.

For the learning side of the reflection my questions were:

Are my students actually improving their craft as writers?

Are my students thinking deeper about the texts they read?

Are my students showing improvement in the ability to converse/reflect about their reading and writing?

Are my students showing more independence in their learning?

For each of these questions, I was able to flip through notebooks, look at assignments and check my anecdotal records for the first two quarters. For the most part, we are growing in our learning. Of course, individual students are growing at different rates. Some are flourishing, some are not moving as fast as I’d like to see. But, I can say that collectively we are learning and becoming more confident as readers and writers.

The tougher part of my mid-year reflections is thinking about how we are progressing as a community of learners. While I occasionally jot some notes, reflecting on the community is a truly gut-feel thing for me. I haven’t quite figured out how to take records on the soft-skills of social interaction and feelings like empathy toward each other.

That being said, this year I thought about these questions:

Are my students listening to each other in partner, small group, and whole class discussions?

Are my students doing the little things (like handing a book or computer to a partner) for each other?

Are my students using kind language toward each other?

Are my students excited about the books classmates are reading and the writing classmates are composing?

Are my students supporting each other without doing the work for each other?

For these questions, there was also a mixed bag of success. I think we are growing closer, but there are still many things to improve. For example, in each of my classes, there are small close-knit groups that are doing well, but we are not there yet as a class. It is a rarity to see a member of one group seeking out a member of another group.

Over the years when I start this time of reflection in January, I often remember Alfie Kohn’s work. Kohn is both inspiring and a reminder that I am not the teacher I want to be yet. His book Punished by Rewards: The Trouble with Gold Stars, Incentive Plans, A’s, Praise and Other Bribes, is as relevant to me now as it was when I read it back in my early years of working with children.

As I balance the last learning question, “Are my students showing more independence with their learning?” With the reflective questions about community building, I have asked myself over the years, Kohn’s thinking about how interdependence versus independence is a strong reminder to ask a different question. “How do I balance the needs of the individual with the needs of the community?” I lose sleep at times when I think about this.

I know Jeremy needs more intensive support than Charlie, but if I consistently don’t make time for Charlie how does that impact the fabric of the community I want to see in my room? I know Elle is a fabulous reader, but if don’t spend the time challenging her level of thinking, then how will she be able to nudge conversations with her classmates to a higher level?

For the rest of this year, I have decided to focus on community interdependence more than continuing to foster independence. Due to the constant bombardment of news that seems to show a distinct lack of empathy and community building, I feel the need to be a counterweight to those negative messages.

So, the first thing we are doing this morning after the long weekend is to talk to each other and hopefully find more connections. Discover or remember commonalities we have. Looking for these will help us build empathy and become a better community. I want my students to remember that we are far more responsive to the greater good when we go beyond just our personal responsibility.

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we welcome students back into our classrooms after they—or we, at times—have made mistakes or have had something serious happen in their lives.

Maybe a student lashed out at you. Maybe they fought another student at the end of your class period. Or maybe they recently lost an immediate relative.

We all know what happened yesterday, or last week, or five minutes ago. Or we hear and see posts on social media, or we overhear students who talk about events that have happened around the building and outside of school. The witnessing of the fight downstairs a few minutes ago has now made its way onto the third floor and, despite not having seen it, it’s all kids are talking about, and then somehow that conversation is resurrected when that student finally returns to school and class.

We don’t just forget.

And we have to acknowledge that. If we simply forgot, then we miss out on opportunities to improve relationships, to signal to students and colleagues that we care, that we are people, and that we are a part of a community working to support each other. And it’s our experiences with each other that contribute to who we are and how people perceive us, and it’s our response after a negative experience that enables the rebuilding or refining of relationships.

So I write more without answers but more of a topic that I have been thinking about lately, the idea of re-entry, of return, of welcoming students back into our rooms and our lives after we all know that something happened. Because our goals as teachers and administrators are to teach, to adjust, to refocus, to redirect, to support and, I think, very rarely ever to ignore or to give up.

I think we first have to acknowledge that it is going to be awkward. People will look. They will talk. They will whisper. They will point. They will have thoughts that we will never know about the incident before.

And we have to communicate to students that we will recognize their discomfort, the awkwardness, and everything else that showing up again after a difficult event entails.

It might be a pat on the back and saying, “I know how difficult this is for you, but I am here to talk it out / be a support / prevent it from happening again.”

It might mean addressing it as a class (I seek permission from parents and the student when doing this), which I think can be incredibly powerful. When you acknowledge that something happened, others were affected, and we are now moving on, it can send a message to students that we make mistakes but our classroom culture is important to us—so important that it had to be addressed—and now we can move on.

It might mean that a simple “I’m sorry” is necessary. And sometimes brevity is okay. More can be said with less, and it is so important for kids to hear that from their peers and adults. We must model the behavior we expect from our students.

We must acknowledge the sinking-of-the-gut feeling that happens when we all do something difficult and then acknowledge when students take this important next step. This might mean a quick, “I am proud of you,” or a thumbs up, or a pat on the back. But we must reaffirm the power of taking that step to rebuild and move forward.

Returning is never easy, but with our help, the burden is lessened and we begin our journey toward restoring or reaffirming the sense of community we want to achieve.

In the last four school years I have taught three different grade levels. I jumped from fourth grade to fifth grade. During that first year with fifth graders, I learned with  35 of the 57 students I spent time with in fourth grade. After spending one more year in fifth grade I jumped to a seventh grade position this past fall. My new school is the middle school that welcomes students from the elementary I left last spring. This rather unusual path led me to be a 7th grade Language Arts teacher for a group of students I also worked with when they were in fourth and fifth grade. We know each other extremely well. I have invested an enormous amount of time in building relationships with this group of frequent fliers.

One of these frequent fliers is a child who I worry about excessively. For the purposes of this post, I will call him Jonathan. Jonathan is a very unique child. He in incredibly intelligent, has an amazing sense of humor and devours information at alarming rates. That being said he struggles with impulsive behaviors that make social interactions difficult for him. Jonathan’s behaviors toward other students often leave him ostracized. I have witnessed how his quick wit is not perceived well and/or his quick temper drives peers away from him.  

Besides challenging peer relationships, Jonathan is also one of those kids that aggravate some teachers. The quality of his work doesn’t always match his intellect. He can rush through projects making careless errors and sometimes he won’t work hard because he thinks the work is pointless (which for a student with his background knowledge, the work might actually be pointless).

Jonathan is one of those kids that you love because he will make you laugh and want to talk about the latest Rick Riordan book that he read in one day, but will break your heart when you hear that he impulsively hit another student in the hall and has to spend a day in the office.

When I found out that Jonathan was going to spend another year with me I shifted my thinking about what my role for him should be this year. I knew no matter what I did as his Language Arts teacher Jonathan would continue to devour books and most likely rush through writing projects. Helping Jonathan develop the more affective domain skills of communicating and connecting effectively and more empathetically with classmates became my goal for the year.

I’d love to tell you my plan to help Jonathan has been a resounding success. It would be great if I could say that after a few weeks of one-on-one talks and sharing books and articles with my students that highlighted ideas like kindness and empathy that Jonathan is now a beloved student. I wish I could say his classmates have suddenly started appreciating Jonathan’s differences and welcomed him into their social circles. Jonathan is not an Auggie Pullman feel-good story yet.

I do think the subtle, but consistent work I have done has helped him this year. Jonathan does not interrupt other students in the class discussions as much as he did previously. Jonathan is not as quick to fire off a snide comment when someone says something he perceives as being completely incorrect. He was also unbelievably patient and kind to his group in recent book club conversations. The Jonathan from earlier this year would have not uttered a statement like “Oh, I wouldn’t have called Castle (the main character in Jason Reynold’s novel Ghost) a troublemaker, but I respect your opinion.” He probably would have ripped that idea apart because he didn’t agree with it.

I cherish these small victories because I want Jonathan to thrive, not just survive. I want Jonathan to learn how to be a better version of himself. I think if he can hold tight to all of the good in him and continue to work on improving some of his negatively perceived traits he will be in a much better place.

I share this story to remind myself and hopefully others the work we do as teachers is more valuable in the long run if we invest in our student as humans first. Jonathan will most likely graduate from high school with above a 4.0 and get something like a 34 on his ACT, but he will be in a better place if he can do those things and feel valued as a human. So I am determined to plug away and invest my time with him as a person as much in not more as I invest in pushing him as a student.

 

Psst!  Principals, over here.  We need to talk.  This blog post is for us.  More specifically, it’s about what we can do to support the most hard-working, amazing people I know: teachers.  It’s a rough time to be a teacher.  They are asked to do more and more with fewer resources and less support.  They likely have more students in their class each year and less dollars in their paycheck. Often times it’s easier for society to blame the teachers instead of looking in the mirror and facing the real problems that plague our country: poverty, lack of affordable healthcare, and opportunity inequalities.  These are big issues that we need to tackle, but they likely have long, slow solutions.  Fortunately, as principals, there are things we can do immediately to better support and appreciate our teachers.

I really want to be a good principal.  I care deeply about the students in the building and want them to have every opportunity to reach their full potential. I want my teachers to see themselves as I see them.  I want my teachers to feel valued, appreciated, and HAPPY.  I know I often come up short being the principal they need, but I am determined to do better.  If principals are going to better support teachers, we need to understand what they need and what they want us to know.  I can’t think of a better way to find this information other than asking.  So that is exactly what I did.  I sent the following email to several teacher friends from all different schools.

 

Hello,

I am working on a blog post for the new year.  I know the culture and climate surrounding teaching has been negative lately.  I know you probably feel like principals don’t always know the struggles, fears, obstacles, and vulnerabilities that you feel as a teacher.  If you have time and you’re comfortable, please respond to the following question:

What do you want your principal to know about your teaching, your classroom, or your students that they might not know?

All responses will be kept completely confidential.  The responses may be used in the blog post, but no names will be tied to any of it.  

Thank you in advance for your responses.

Jim

 

The responses were both incredible and eye-opening to me as a principal.  They were eerily similar to one another.  Regardless of the building, the grade level, or the experience level of the teacher, each and every response had a very similar message.  Here were the most frequent responses:

“I want my principal to know that I am doing my best and even though I make mistakes, I’m working to improve.”

“Don’t punish me for a job well done.  I can’t serve on every committee and serve on every team.  It is burning me out.”

“A little acknowledgement goes a long way.  A simple note, text, email, or passing word in the hallway makes my week.”

“Check in with me and be available.  I need a principal to listen.  I don’t need a solution to every problem but I want to know my voice is heard.”

“When you make a mistake, as we all do, own it.  Admit the mistake and try to correct it.”

“I want the principal to be a real person who is visible to teachers, students, and parents.  Be involved in the school activities and not just sitting in the office.”

“We believe in your (or the district’s) vision, but stick with it.  Give us time to implement new strategies and programs.  We can’t chase every shiny new idea.  Let’s pick good practices and perfect them before abandoning them or trying something new.”

However, this was the message that rang the loudest to me:

“Don’t forget what it’s like to be in the classroom.  The stresses, the demands, the pressures, and the many balls in the air.  Remember that lessons go wrong, especially when trying something new.  Teaching and learning is messy.”

I love the rawness and honesty of the responses I received from teachers.  They weren’t bitter, although you certainly couldn’t blame them if they were.  When they complained about lack of services, class size, or resources, it wasn’t because it was an inconvenience to them; it was because they cared deeply about helping their students.

We need to be better about acknowledging the tremendous work they do each day.  This can be a quick email, text, kind word in the hallway, or a sticky note on their computer.  We need to check in frequently and ask how we can better support them as teachers.  This can take many forms including covering classes for them so they can observe colleagues, providing more opportunities for collaboration and professional learning, and giving them time to implement new strategies.  We need to stop bouncing from new idea to new idea.  Instead, let’s focus on getting better at the strategies we are already using.  If we are going to preach for teachers to innovate and be risk takers, we need to understand that lessons will not always go as planned.  Teachers need to be praised for taking risks, not punished for a lesson not going perfectly.  I often tell my teachers, “I would rather have a lesson be a complete disaster while trying something new than have everything go according to plan with an outdated practice.”  

The message teachers want us to hear is loud and clear.  They are working as hard as they can.  They are doing everything in their power to help the students in their classroom.  The classroom is where the rubber meets the road.  Teachers are the ones working directly with students.  The responses to my email provide a roadmap on how we can better support them.  Principals, let’s make sure 2018 is the year every teacher in our building knows that we have their back and support their work.

Frayed … I feel a little unraveled this time of the year. The crunch of getting things done before the last day of school. The never-ending list of must do items before we smash several get-togethers with family and friends. The packing before leaving for a vacation. The lack of sleep. The … well, the everything.

Our students are frayed. Teachers demanding their assignments. Parents rushing them around. Realizing they might not see good friends for two weeks. Having the pressure to be perfect at family get-togethers. Knowing the safety of school will not be there for the next two weeks.

Our families and colleagues are frayed. Most likely everyone we have recently seen or will see in the next few weeks are feeling the stress we impose upon ourselves this time of year. Holiday stress is so real that the Mayo-Clinic has a page on its website dedicated to coping with stress and depression.   

We cannot expect to be perfect during this time of the year, but many of us expend a great deal of energy trying to be or pretending to be. This includes the time we should be relaxing, away from the day-to-day time spent with our students. We don’t always need to feel like we are doing everything we possibly can. I need to remind myself frequently during the Holiday Season to take the time to refresh myself. I want to return to school excited to be back with my community of learners. I don’t want to return to classes of 25-29 students feeling like I need a vacation to recover from a vacation.

Over the last few years I have, rather secretly, only had three goals over the Holiday Break.

1. Read a book that has nothing to do with school. This year I am planning to read The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead (which I received last for Christmas. ugh).
2. Sleep at least eight hours each night. This may not happen, but it needs to happen. I think I’ve had one night in the last month that I slept more than seven hours. Most nights it is less than six hours. The lack of sleep is a constant for me during the school year, but it doesn’t need to happen during a break.
3. Practice gratitude. I think I do practice gratitude regularly, but I am forgetful during the busyness of this season. Since I know I am happier when I share my thankfulness toward others, I will do something to show my thankfulness each day.

I know I have to do so much more than these three things before I return to school in January, but most everything else can wait. If I don’t read the numerous books I hope to read, then I don’t. If I don’t finish pre-planning the next writing unit, then I don’t. If I don’t go to every event I want to attend then I don’t. None of those things will make me feel renewed at 8:18 am on January 3, 2018. However, I know reading a book just for me is a gift to myself. I know catching up on my sleep is a necessity for me and a gift to my family. And I know being thankful will make me a better person and remind the people I love the most that I am thankful they are in my life.

Our classroom communities need us to be the best version of ourselves when we return from a long break. We should return to school feeling put back together, not coming apart at the seams.
To start my practicing gratitude phase, I am publicly thanking Brian, Sarah, Jim, Lysey, Kevn, Jennifer, Angie, Scott, Lea, Mandy, Andrea and Aliza. You said yes to collaborating on this site and I am incredibly thankful you did. I have learned a great deal from all of you in just five months. I cannot wait to see what you do to challenge and affirm my thinking in the future. I am truly blessed to call you all mentors and friends. I wish sometime in the future we can all be at the same place at the same time. Let’s figure out a way to make that happen.

photo credit: greg.simenoff Knot- via photopin (license)