Coming back

Tuesdays at TWT!

"This keeps getting more complicated." Over the dull din of other diners at Panera, my colleague tosses his head back and laughs. "I keep finding that teaching is so much more complicated than I ever imagined."

"So do I!" I giggle, but I feel a surge of silent gratitude to be sitting here on a summer afternoon, discussing the joys and challenges of this job career profession calling life I love with a colleague who, despite a first year that absolutely kicked him in the gut, somehow loves it too, just like me.

We're working on our presentation for next week's district conference about supporting ELLs in content classes, but our teacher brains, too used to running a thousand programs at the same time, keep taking us other places. As we screenshot the best examples from our adventures together in his 3rd period Physical Science class, we drift back and forth through time, reflecting on last year and looking ahead.

Now that it's on the topic of school, my brain is spinning hard. "I really want to do more with my kids this fall to help them learn how to learn in their regular classes!" I'd thought of this in the spring, but it almost slipped my mind until we started remembering the utter lack of academic skills my kids ("ALL freshmen, really!" he interjects) have. "I mean, nobody tells you in your education classes that in addition to your content, you're going to have to teach your kids how to study, how to take notes, how to focus, how to regulate their emotions, how to set goals..."

The sheer BIGness of teaching hits me with its full force. It IS complicated. And amazing.

And out of the haze of a baby-filled summer, I remember, in a visceral surging way: I LOVE this job career profession calling life.

This crazy, stressful, fun, demanding, soul-crushing, uplifting, life-changing job career profession calling life. Am I looking forward to returning to lunches gulped in fifteen minutes, one scheduled bathroom break, and work that piles up far faster than I can ever get it done? Not really. Do I love feeling like I constantly have to settle for "good enough", knowing I could do so much better if I just had more time to prepare, reflect, and collaborate? Definitely not -- it's that much harder when you're a perfectionist.

But I love it. I love sharing my love of literacy with my kids. I love getting to know my kids and learning about their cultures, their languages, and their incredible lives. I love encouraging them in their learning and supporting them through their many challenges. I love being an expert who helps my colleagues teach my kids better, and I love being a learner who is constantly looking for new ways to improve my own instruction. And mostly, I. love. my. kids!

And while I'm grateful for the rejuvenation summer brings, I can't wait. I can't wait for booktalks and read-alouds, brainstorming and revision, messy thinking and proud products. I can't wait for purposeful conferences and quick conversations, joyful hugs and hallway tears. I can't wait for those cinder block walls to become a little home. I also can't wait for family meetings, for collegial collaboration with hearts like mine, for failed and successful experiments in new ways to help all students learn.

This is a colossal, complicated, challenging job career profession calling life. And an awesome one. And I'm so thankful that for all the ways it beats us up, it holds so many joys and promises that keep us coming back, whether it's our second year or our tenth.

Telling her story

Tuesdays at Two Writing Teachers!

Last night, sleep wavered just out of reach.

Somehow, M. had popped into my head, and I found myself wondering about her: How's she doing? Is she still working toward a diploma equivalent? Is her daughter doing better?

Is there anything I could have done? 

Gosh, I would have loved to see her in a cap and gown.

WHY didn't anyone tell me they were going to withdraw her until it was already done?

Now I was getting more awake instead of more asleep. Back in April, I lost hours of sleep this way.

~~

M.'s attendance had been slightly more sporadic than usual this spring, but I knew she had a lot going on. Yes, she'd sometimes give herself a little extra wiggle room to go out to breakfast or sleep in, but I couldn't imagine working two jobs and taking care of a two-year-old... AND navigating high school... in a second language. She deserved a little personal time now and then!

Besides, she was usually at school in time for my class, and she was doing wonderful work! She'd really found herself as a writer this year, and I always looked forward to her rich, wrenching descriptions.

I knew she was really having trouble in math, but she was working so hard to catch up...

~~

That first Friday in April, one of the guidance counselors caught me in the office. "I think something's going to happen with M."

The exhilaration of the incredible field trip we'd just taken turned to stone in my stomach. School and district administration had threatened to withdraw her all year if her attendance didn't improve, but threats seem like bluffs when they go on too long. They weren't actually going to do it now, were they?

I tore around the corner to find my principal, but he was gone. That's ok, I'll catch him on Monday, I thought as I settled down to check emails, but returned to full panic mode when I saw the attendance list. A little note beside M.'s name said "Will be withdrawn."

No.

Did they know everything that was going on with her? She was at a doctor's appointment today, and so many other days lately! Oh, why couldn't she just play the game and bring excusal notes?! We'd told her so many times...

Why hadn't they talked to me? They couldn't know everything that was going on with her. Did they know about her mom's stroke and her uncle's sudden death last year, her other uncle's death from cancer this fall, her daughter's recent hospitalization? Did they know she'd recently started going to a professional counselor? Had she even told her school counselor everything? Had they involved her counselor in the discussion? Had she fought for her?

Why now, with so little time left in the school year? She wasn't a troublemaker.

I know that compulsory education ends at 18. I checked her grades and saw an abysmal, unsalvageable percentage in math and other Fs due to incomplete work. I knew (with results pending) that she still needed to pass three sections of our state graduation test. But why not see if she could work with some of those other teachers to master those concepts? Why not let her earn her English credit and keep becoming a better reader and writer? Why not let her learn all she could for another month and a half? 

~~

That Monday morning, I walked up to my principal breathlessly and just said M's name. "I just had to pull the plug," he replied. "She had to show me she was trying a little, you know?"

I sputtered and stammered something about how I knew she should have played by the rules more, but she had so much to deal with. I was practically speechless. I wanted to scream "try a little?! I think there's a picture of her in the dictionary next to 'hard work'!" but, this being only my second year in this building, I wasn't quite at the screaming stage, or even the hissing stage. I was just in shock.

You see, my principal is awesome at supporting struggling students. He is an incredible role model and advocate for kids that are just barely hanging on. He sees himself in our toughest young African-American men, and he thinks outside the box and cares for them like a father. That's why I was stunned speechless.

I didn't realize that kids could still fall through the cracks in our building. It didn't occur to me that he might not know all of our students' stories, because he knows so many. I didn't know that he might not look for a bigger story behind yet-another-Hispanic-teen-mom-with-poor-attendance-and-skimpy-clothes.

~~

Two weeks later, I was supposed to hug her on stage at our special awards ceremony while another teacher read my nomination of her:

The whole auditorium was supposed to have filled with thunderous applause in recognition of her perseverance. Instead, she wasn't there, and neither was I.

~~

We were supposed to keep supporting her, to find a way to help her make it. She was supposed to keep reading, writing, learning, and growing. Even if she didn't graduate on time, she was supposed to get there. She would have kept striving. Every reflective letter she'd ever written me was filled with determination to graduate. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

I don't think my principal meant to exclude her from his determination to save our toughest kids. I think, I hope, that he just didn't really know her. I guess we (I?) didn't tell her story soon enough. Or well enough. Or both.

That's why I'm telling it now. Where does an immigrant ELL teen mom who works two jobs and carries deep sorrow fit into a high school? If she doesn't quite fit into a structure that wasn't made with her in mind, does that nullify our responsibility to help her make her dreams come true?

~~

When graduation test results came in May, she'd passed two of her three remaining sections. Just one more to go. I think she could have made it. I hope she somehow does.

Actually, I know she will. No matter what pieces of paper she's able or not able to eventually attain, she'll build a good life for herself and her daughter. She won't consider any other possibility.

I just wish we could have helped her a little more along the way. I wish I would have told her story louder, sooner. Next time I will.

Enjoying

Tuesdays at Two Writing Teachers!

"Are you enjoying your time off?" As soon as the calendar flips to June, every teacher is bombarded with this inevitable question from friends, family, acquaintances, and those random people you just met in line at the grocery store.

I think every teacher has a different response.

Some practically shout a resounding "YES!" while letting go of the worries of the school year. Some gush over increased family time and exciting vacations. Others smile with a quick "Yes, but..." and then attempt to patiently explain a few of the myriad ways teachers hone our craft over the summer.

Depending on my mood, I think I've been known to do all three, but as the political climate has shifted, I've tried to do more of the last choice. Since I've been getting more questions prefaced with "I know teachers work a lot over the summer, but...", I'll take a wild guess that many of you have been doing the same!

So, to everyone wondering if I'm enjoying my time "off": Yes, I am, but I'm really enjoying a blend of recovery, rejuvenation, and preparation!

Here's what I'm enjoying this summer:

• playing with new technology and envisioning how it will transform my students' learning
• cleaning and organizing my classroom, which always falls by the wayside
• creating new materials, from digital activities to classroom learning aids
• collaborating with colleagues across my district and outside of it
• sparking new ideas, from nudges to blog posts to presentations
• digging into standards and reflecting on my core philosophies
• pushing my thinking through professional reading, conferences, & workshops
• planning innovative activities and refining past practices
• continuing to encourage students through Goodreads and our blog
• curling up with books and notebooks
• exploring this wonderful world with eager eyes and an open heart
• savoring sweet time with my husband and parents
• and, of course, resting and relaxing, with beautiful treats like this:

Lunch at my favorite summer spot! So much to enjoy with a view like this!

It's been a busy couple weeks of end-of-school craziness, but just writing this post makes me so excited and grateful for all I have to enjoy!

What will you enjoy in your time "off"?

In the arena

12 of 31 at Two Writing Teachers!

What can turn an eloquent writer who lives a writerly life into a hesitant, jittery mess? The threat of all her dreams for the future being snatched away because of one test on one day...

At 10:30 today, when the "regular" testing window ended, nearly all of my beleaguered ELLs were still writing away with furrowed brows and clenched jaws. More than half were still working at 11:15, earning themselves a hard-working ELL rite of passage: the solitary graduation testing lunch break. As we walked downstairs, they stretched their tense muscles and shook the exhaustion from their dull eyes.

"I'd like to see the people who made these tests spend this many hours writing that many passages in a row... in their second language!" I joked, and they slowly tried on smiles as if attempting to remember what it felt like to be people instead of writing robots.

Once settled into our little room in the guidance office, shut off from the rest of the school to maintain test security, they gradually came to life. As we chatted (in English only, avoiding the one topic that was looming over all of our heads like a low-hanging fog), their backs relaxed and they leaned back in their seats. A few giggles even rippled through the room as they regained a little bit of energy.

All too soon, it was time to head back into the dense clouds of testing territory. "Oh boy! Let's finish the test! Aren't you excited?" Grinning, I hopped up with extra sparkles in my eyes, trying to keep their energy from being eaten by the malicious testing fog. "Yay, you can do it! You're almost there!" I clapped and skipped as they took their seats with wan smiles and just a few eye rolls.

Nearly three more hours of scribbling and scratching, flipping through dictionaries, rolling achy necks and loosening weary wrists. I just wanted to hug each one of them, right there in the middle of the test. (Don't worry, I didn't!)

One by one, they exhaled deeply and stacked their test booklets. While writing a pass back to class, I looked each student in the eye and whispered "I'm so proud of you! You worked so hard!" as relief and confidence crept back into their faces.

Finally, four warriors remained as the last minutes of the school day ticked away. "Great job! I'm so proud of how hard you worked! You are awesome!" Glimmers of light returned to their eyes as I high-fived each of these champions. No matter what the scores say in a few months, I couldn't be more proud. After all, as Theodore Roosevelt so wisely declared: "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood..."

Three arduous days down, two to go. They are striving valiantly, and they deserve to be honored for that.

A sweet surprise awaits my sweet students tomorrow to get them through Day 4 of 5!

A plea to policy makers

11 of 31 at Two Writing Teachers!

Dear state education officials, politicians, foundation executives, and other education policy makers:

Do you know what I did this afternoon when one of my administrators asked how I was doing? I burst into tears. Why?

I'm tired. Tired of 11-hour days at school... followed by quick dinners and more schoolwork until I collapse, exhausted, in bed. Tired of yearning to improve my teaching craft and collaborate with other educators, but not having opportunities built into my workday to do so. Tired of struggling to meet the demands of decisions made far from my classroom, by people who have never sat beside my students or walked beside me.

I'm discouraged. Discouraged by policies and rhetoric implying that, despite giving every ounce of my time, energy, and love, I'm not doing enough. Discouraged by the demeaning idea that perhaps if someone dangled a carrot over my head, I'd do a better job. Discouraged by the constraints of an antiquated educational system poorly equipped for our modern world. Discouraged because I know my ELL students' unique needs, but I feel like my voice is lost below the clatter of money and the red faces of ideology.

I'm heartbroken. Heartbroken by the stories my students share about the challenges they endure. Heartbroken when struggling students fall through the cracks despite my best efforts, simply because their gaps are too big and our resources are too few. Heartbroken at constantly having to choose which class will get less than my best, because I just ran out of time to give them the activities or feedback they really need. Heartbroken to see my newly enthusiastic readers and writers fret and lose their confidence in the face of dull, arduous tests. Heartbroken as lifeless, isolated numbers replace these vibrant, determined human beings who really have grown so much throughout the year.

So I cry. Sometimes in my classroom, sometimes at home, and yes, sometimes in the principal's office. But crying won't help my students.

So I take a deep breath and open up my laptop, because I love my students.

But we sure could use a little help.

Real purpose. Real enthusiasm.

5 of 31 at Two Writing Teachers!

For the past few days, my classroom has been a hubbub of loud, messy, delightful learning.

Flash drives popping in and out of computers. Keyboards clicking. The printer purring.

Scissors scraping. Glue swishing. Markers gliding.

Voices planning, practicing, and preparing. Not the usual low hum,  but a lively rumble, sometimes escalating to a frantic roar.

Smiles and sparkling eyes.

Excitement. Pride. Community.

Even from the most timid and reticent students. Even from those who lack confidence.

Tomorrow, my ELL students, so often on the margins of high school life, will take center stage. Tomorrow, the rest of the school will come to learn from them.

Tomorrow, the StoryBox returns as the centerpiece of a school-wide celebration of story and world cultures. All around it, my students will stand as experts, presenting displays that blend stories, information, and realia as windows to their countries.

A real event. A real audience. A real purpose.

Real learning. Real enthusiasm.

What do ELLs appreciate?

For Teacher Appreciation Week, I wanted my ELL students to thank our whole staff for their hard work and support.  Last year, the ELL teacher I co-taught one class with at my spring middle school had students write thank-you statements to their teachers, which he then put on the school video announcements.  When he was presenting the assignment to his students, he asked them to consider the best ways their teachers supported them in their other classes.  Thus, it was more than just a nice thank-you gesture: it was a reflective exercise for students and an opportunity to remind teachers how they can best support ELLs.

I always love chances to get feedback from my students, and I really wanted to know what THEY appreciate about their teachers.  By thanking their teachers, my students would have to reflect on WHY they like certain teachers and what teaching strategies help them learn successfully in their different classes.  And if we really shared their messages with the teachers, like we did last year with the video announcements, it would be a truly authentic task, which I believe is so crucial to student learning.

With all these goals in mind, I decided to create a Padlet wall so my students could all add their thoughts to a public display simultaneously.  I knew that my students have always enjoyed using Padlet and other similar web tools to collaborate and share ideas in real-time, and it would be easy to send the link to the staff when the wall was complete.  However, I didn't anticipate how excited my students would be to thank their teachers.  Many students wrote note after note listing activities they enjoy and thanking specific teachers for the special things they do.  They mentioned ELL-specific strategies like teaching vocabulary, speaking more clearly, alternate explanations, and extra time.  They remembered special projects, class activities, and ways that teachers made class fun.  Most of all, they wrote about teachers being kind and showing they care by smiling, attending after-school events, helping them through tough times, and making class fun.

Please take a few minutes to read their thoughts! (Or visit the full page, since the formatting seems to be a little goofy on the embedded version!)

Created with Padlet

When I saw the honesty and truth in their thoughts, I couldn't wait to send the link out to the staff!  After I did, several teachers stopped by to say how much they enjoyed reading the students' notes. I even got a few emails from teachers that demonstrate how meaningful my students' words were to them:

(from a history teacher)

(from a reading & credit recovery teacher)

During class today, I showed the emails to my students. They were so proud and happy that their messages really touched their teachers' hearts.

Why I Teach

at Two Writing Teachers!

Last week, I wrote about what it's like to face those discouraging days in the classroom.  I also hinted at why I persevere through those tough days, a topic which is on many minds lately.  In the midst of testing, blaming, "It must be so nice to have the summers off"-ing, and "You're too smart to be a teacher!"-ing (not to mention all the regular classroom challenges!), teachers are speaking out.  We are sharing Why We Stay and Why We Teach.

I'm going to be completely honest: sometimes I think about quitting.  Occasionally, I used to wonder if I'd become part of those sad statistics about the incredible number of new teachers who quit within the first three or five years of teaching.  But here I am, still pushing through year six!

Some days, I battle back tears as I drive home, and I wonder if I can keep doing this for years.  I wonder what my life would be like if I had become an engineer (my major through my freshman year of college).  In the morning, I pry my exhausted body out of bed in the dark and do my best imitation of Mr. Holland's Opus: "What kind of person goes to work at 7:00 in the morning?!"  But I get up anyway, and by the time my students walk through my classroom door, I'm waiting to greet them with a huge smile.

Here's why:

I teach because I want to change the world.

• I believe that I can design my instruction and my classroom in a way that will help my students become more tolerant, empathetic, compassionate people.
• I believe that I can give my students skills and confidence they can use to follow their dreams and affect the world in ways I can't even imagine.
• I believe that my life can shine in a way that helps my students see what is possible when you live with love and enthusiasm.

I teach because I want to change lives.

• I believe that every student has a reader and a writer hiding somewhere inside.  I want to help all of my students discover how to lose themselves in books and how to pour out the stories of their hearts.
• I believe that students who flick their eyes from the ceiling to the clock to the floor during reading time in the fall can come rushing into my room, waving a book and shouting about it in the spring... and I've seen it happen.
• I believe that students who stare at a blank page for over a half hour in the fall can write heartfelt paragraphs and poems in under twenty minutes in the spring... and I've seen that happen too.
• I believe that I can help my students catch a love of learning that will propel them through their lives.
• I believe that one teacher is enough to make a difference.

I teach because I love my students and I know they need the kind of teacher I try to be.

• I know that my students need smiles, encouraging comments, and quick little conversations about their lives.
• I know that my students need hugs, tissues, moments in the hallway, and a safe place to come when their worlds are falling apart.
• I know that my students need snacks, dollars, change, and a place to work on the computer before and after school.
• I know that my students need listening ears, chances to ask hard questions, and guidance about things I don't even begin to have answers to, but I know they just need me to try.
• I know that my students need celebrations, treats, and thoughtful feedback.
• I know that my students need authentic, meaningful learning opportunities that allow them to bring their own experiences and connect to others.
• I know that my students need to see adults who are still reading, still writing, and still learning.
• I know that my students and their families need someone they trust to help them navigate this befuddling world of free lunch, residency verification, Title I programs, testing, lectures, college applications, and so much more... all in a new language.
• I know that my students need someone to speak up for them to other students and staff who don't know or don't understand what they are going through.
• I know that my students need someone who also struggles with thinking of a word in the wrong language, being unable to find a phrase in the right language that expresses a certain concept, yearning for a different pace of life, craving a food that just can't be found here, and all the other issues of those who "carry another home in their hearts" (as Silas House and Neela Vaswani so eloquently described it in Same Sun Here).

I teach because I can't imagine doing anything else.

Para no repetir la historia

at Latinaish! 

Today is Spanish Friday, so this post is in Spanish!  If you don't speak Spanish, try out Google Translate and see if you can get the gist!

Hoy tuvimos una presentación especial para todo el colegio.  Unos convictos (todos condenados por delitos grandes relacionados a las drogas) nos hablaron de sus vidas y su dependencia en las drogas y el alcohol.  Alrededor de veinte convictos nos relataron sus historias conmovedoras:

• Tenían de 20 a 50 años...
• Antes de usar las drogas, eran atletas, animadoras y estudiantes inteligentes, ricos y pobres, de circunstancias malas y buenas, de hogares disueltos y hogares felices... eran como todos nuestros estudiantes.
• Fueron condenados de una variedad de crímenes, de la posesión de drogas al robo, la falsificación de documentos, amenazar a los testigos, el asalto, y más... todo para conseguir sus drogas or el dinero para comprar más drogas.  
• Después de convertirse en drogadicto, un joven robó de sus propios padres para obtener dinero para las drogas.
• Una mujer energética y simpática tuvo 37 condenas de delitos grandes.
• Una joven había empezado a usar las drogas a los siete años.
• Casi todos se convirtieron en adictos de la heroína, aunque habían jurado que no lo usarían nunca. 

Cientos de estudiantes silencios y atentos.

Cientos de ojos mojados, incluso los míos.

Al final de la presentación, nos preguntaron cuántos o usaran drogas o conocieran a un amigo a familiar que las usaran.  Casi todos los estudiantes levantaron las manos.  

Algunos se levantaron para hacerles preguntas muy emotivas a los convictos.  

-- ¿Cómo puedo ayudarle a un amigo? --  

-- ¿Cómo puedo dejar de usar? --

La respuesta siempre era lo mismo: 

-- Buscarle ayuda. Pide ayuda.  Antes de que sea demasiado tarde. --

What they need

at Two Writing Teachers!

How is it that life always seems to give you what you need just when you need it?  (Strong evidence, in my opinion, that there is someone up there taking care of things!)  I've learned that I can count on my students (and my mom, and all of you!) to pick me up and push me to keep going when I'm overwhelmed and discouraged. And just when I'm in danger of getting too wrapped up in testing and standards and measuring and "moving" students forward, they remind me that there's more to teaching than all that.  They remind me that in addition to learning, they need so much more.

Sometimes, they reveal a personal crisis, open my eyes to hard truths, or give me a glimpse of life in their shoes.  They want to know me and they share their own journeys.  They explore big ideas and ask tough questions.  Often, they just want to know: "Do you like kids like us?"  Every once in a while, they even reach out directly for what they really need: love.

Twice a week, my beginner ELLs write to me on a dialogue calendar.  (I stole this idea from a reading teacher at one of the middle schools I used to teach at!)  They can tell me (and ask me) anything they want, and I respond and ask them questions.  It's basically an ongoing conversation on paper.

They practice their writing and reading, and we get to know each other better!

Last week, one girl (whose birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks) wrote the following:
"Are you going to hug me on my birthday?  I'm asking because I'm going to be lonely that day. :/ My family is going to be working the whole day and I'll only have the affection of my friends. :-("

I could feel tears springing up in the corners of my eyes.  Her family is loving and supportive, but I know they all work really hard just to survive.  So I wrote to her that I always have a hug ready whenever she needs one, but I also wrote that I know her family is working so hard because they want a better life for her.

How do you measure that?

Delight in Learning

at Two Writing Teachers!

I'm wiped out. We're in the midst of state standardized English proficiency testing: three days of paper tests (reading, writing, and listening) in addition to individual speaking tests that we must complete with each student throughout the week during our plan and admin periods.

Nonetheless, my "one little word" for the year has managed to sneak its way into my day. (Thank goodness!)  Delight.  Days like today are why I made it my OLW: to find delight even when I'm tired, even when things are crazy, even when I've been feeling discouraged.  And just as promised, delight shows up.  It's everywhere. I just have to notice it!

First, a student ran into my classroom this afternoon breathlessly waving Tears of a Tiger, which I booktalked a few weeks ago and recommended personally to her last week. "Mrs. M!  I woke up at 6:00 this morning to read this book! It's sooooo good!!!" Especially sweet since she's been one of my many students who insist that they "don't have time" to read.

Then this evening before dinner, I was watching reruns of The Andy Griffith Show, which to me is like snuggling into my mom's arms since that's where I first watched it.  Much to my DELIGHT, one of my all-time favorite episodes came on: the one where Helen Crump is introduced as Opie's new teacher.  From the moment Opie and his friends start calling her "Old Lady Crump," I'm cackling every 30 seconds.

In this episode, Opie and the other boys in his class have decided they hate history, to the point that they boycott their assigned reading.  The best part (and one of my absolute favorite moments of the whole series) is how Andy gets them to do their homework again with his dramatic storytelling of Paul Revere's ride:

Despite the historical (and grammatical) inaccuracies, I love the DELIGHT in learning that shines in this clip. Andy's enthusiasm as he tells the story comes together with the wonder on the boys' (and Barney's) faces to show that learning can be fun.  No, that learning IS fun, and if you don't know it yet, it's just because nobody's helped you discover it in a way that means something to you.

I love that Andy gets them to buy into learning by knowing their interests: he knows that little boys love Indians and guns, so that's how he hooks them.  Then he makes the story come alive so much that they forget it's "history" and just DELIGHT in the story.  After all, as Ruth and Stacey so often remind us, story matters.  Suddenly, history is so exciting that they're clamoring for more.

That's what learning should be.  That's what I want for my students: DELIGHT in learning. So thank you, Andy Griffith, for reminding us what can happen when we draw on student interests and share the power of story with them.  For someone who wasn't officially a teacher, you sure were a good one.

Strong Schools Matter

at Two Writing Teachers!

Since our levy failed last year, my district is back on the ballot again this year. Another Tuesday of knots in my stomach and blood thumping through my body more powerfully than usual.  Another Tuesday of waiting and hoping.

This year, the committee of parents and staff members committed to passing the levy decided to collect stories about the impact our schools have made on people's lives.  They posted the stories to Facebook and their website, created videos, and even organized Twitter chats so current and former students could share what our district has meant to them.

I attended our district K-12 and know that I would not be who I am today without the amazing experiences I had in our schools.  Even though I've still been swamped with work lately, I knew I could not pass up the opportunity to share my story, so I dropped everything Friday evening and sat down to write.  But could I make a difference?  Would anyone even read it?

Within a few hours, more than 60 people (some of my colleagues, some of my former teachers, and some strangers!) had liked my post on Facebook.  My mom called me to say that her staff members were telling her about how good my post was, and she said that it brought tears to her eyes.  My writing had moved people!  It was just like slicing!

Since it's Tuesday, I'd love to share it with all of you:

My husband makes fun of the fact that I can name every teacher I had K-12, and he laughs at the childlike adoration with which I still talk about them.  But he didn’t attend Dublin City Schools.  He didn’t have the thousands (perhaps millions) of unique, memorable learning opportunities that I had.

In first grade, Dr. Wright had a cardboard spaceship that we could read in during our space unit.  In LEAP, Mrs. Lytle helped us embrace our creativity and stretch our brains with thematic units like a simulation of ancient Japan. She also taught us the most important lesson that a perfectionistic gifted kid can learn: “I am lovable and capable.” During middle school, I lived for the fun goofiness of Mr. Prosser’s Funky Rubber Chickens (Odyssey of the Mind) but also embraced the serious skill-building of Power of the Pen.  And even as athletically challenged as I am, the opportunity to try out middle school track taught me to overcome my fears by running hurdles… even though I was only 4’10”!

I can’t even begin to list all of the amazing learning experiences I experienced at Coffman High School.  From building a model house with real circuits in Ms. Milanovich’s physics class to traveling to Boston to make American Lit and AP US History come alive, my classes were full of authentic, real-world learning.  The fantastic Spanish program enabled me to score a 5 on the AP test, ultimately allowing me to jump directly into 400-level Spanish courses at Ohio State.  And nothing taught me more about persistence, hard work, collaboration, and striving for excellence than being in the Coffman Marching Band under Dr. Keller. 

While these incredible experiences certainly made a huge difference in my learning, the best part of Dublin City Schools was knowing that my teachers cared about me.  In third grade, Dr. Kumpf let me spend my indoor recesses using my inventions (like the “Sankey Staple Pick-up and Bucket”) to help her.  When my reading level surpassed all the books available at Scottish Corners, I was allowed to miss class to go into the hallway and talk about reading with an older student who was also a voracious reader.  At Sells, Ms. Ward went out of her way to nurture my interest in Native Americans, like the time she let me help her tan deer hides in the traditional way during Indian Day at Highbanks Metro Park.  After our last contest my senior year, gruff Dr. Keller choked up while telling us that our score was just 0.3 points away from our class goal of surpassing the highest score in DCHSMB history.  As we stood around him in the dark parking lot, we all knew that he cared about us just as much as we had wanted to do well for him. 

If I really wanted to describe each moment in my educational experience that had this type of impact on me, I’d end up writing a book.  Instead, I’ll just say that being a student in Dublin City Schools changed my life.  Because of Dublin City Schools, I was able to excel academically in so many different subjects that I had trouble deciding what I wanted to be.  I became a National Merit Finalist and got a full scholarship to the only university I ever wanted to attend: Ohio State.  After the engaging and challenging learning opportunities I had K-12, most of my college courses seemed boring and easy.  When I made The Ohio State University Marching Band in a regular spot, the rigorous practices were just a natural continuation of my marching band experience at Coffman.  (Honestly, the band’s rehearsal discipline seemed a little lax to me!)

All around me, I saw students from other school districts who struggled with the workload in their classes and were not prepared for the marching and musical demands of the marching band.  I started to feel pride fill my chest when I told people that I was from Dublin, because I discovered that they knew what that meant.  No matter where they were from, my fellow band members and classmates had heard of Dublin.  They knew it was a district of academic excellence and a cradle of future TBDBITLers.  When I was inducted into Phi Beta Kappa, one of my Dublin Coffman classmates was right beside me.  I realized that growing up in Dublin was a gift that had a profound impact on my future. Now, as a Dublin teacher, I strive every day to give my students that same gift: to provide them with unique, challenging learning experiences and show them that I care. 

Please vote YES on Issue 48 for my students, because Dublin City Schools can change their lives. That’s what it did for me.

(cross-posted at the Dublin Good Schools Committee) 

Now it's just time to wait.

Still a New Teacher

at Two Writing Teachers!

Earlier this summer, I ran across a book on the floor of the computer room: Letters to a New Teacher.  Someone gave it to me before my first year of teaching, and being a new teacher, I promptly shoved it aside in the midst of my new-teacher-frenzy.  It got thrown in a box when we moved to our current house, and there it sat until taking up residence on the floor as Husband works on unpacking the remaining boxes.  (No, we did NOT just move, and no, I will not admit how long we've been in this house...)

image: Amazon.com

Because it was summer and I "had time", I started flipping through pages, expecting it to be cheesy.  An hour later, I was wishing Jim Burke could be MY mentor!*  Through Jim's deep reflections on his teaching, it was obvious that he truly lives the life of a reader and writer all the time.  (His letters are filled with bits of poems and experiences from his writing life, as well as from his classroom!)  He is the kind of educator I want to be: passionate about student learning, caring about students' lives, and continually reflective.

Joy, the first-year teacher, was asking all of the deepest questions I still wrestle with after five years of teaching!  Not to mention the fact that they're both English teachers, and I really will be a new English teacher this year in my new ELL position.  The authentic, heartfelt dialogue between the two (while the book is made mostly of Jim's letters, Joy's questions and a few of her letters are sprinkled throughout) was inspiring, poignant, and encouraging.  I think Husband had to go pick up dinner as I fell into Joy and Jim's world!  After all, it is my world...

As I read, the book really made me reflect on my own teaching life: how far I've come, yet how I still feel Joy's questions every day; how needy I still am of a mentor like Jim.  Maybe I will find one this year in my new school?

Of course, really I'm lucky because I have LOTS of mentors: all of you, my slicing friends!  Over the past year, you have inspired me, encouraged me, and made me feel as if I'm not alone... sometimes without even knowing it!  You couldn't come into my room, observe my classes or talk to me.  But your words spoke to me.  Your ideas called me to stretch myself. Your comments gave me advice or encouragement or just touched a place in my heart that had been yearning for someone to understand.

And it's largely because of all of you that I've finally committed to an idea that's been rattling around in my head for a while: I joined Twitter!  Right when I joined, I got a big rush of enthusiasm because I could follow so many of my slicing friends!  (In fact, Diana sent me a direct message right away, which I didn't even know how to do but it was really fun!)  Posting my first tweet still brought the same sweaty hands and heavy stomach that I had when I wrote my first blog post... but excitement quickly took over because I already "knew" people.

I've only been on for a few days, but I can already see that it's a lot like the slicing community (except waaaay bigger and, um, scarier!): full of enthusiastic, positive teachers who love to share ideas!  Several people (they must be the Lindas of Twitter!) reached out to me and helped me find hashtags to follow, which really made me feel welcome.  It's still kind of overwhelming (which is why I had put off joining...) but it's also invigorating.  Oddly, it's comforting too, because I know that when I need help, I now have a TON of experienced, knowledgeable mentors to ask!

While I still hope to find a mentor in my new building, it's nice to know that I won't be lost if no "Jim" appears.  After all, I now have two communities full of them!


* Now that I'm on Twitter, I'm following Jim (@englishcomp), which I think is so cool!  Over just the past few days, he's posted several tweets that are as inspiring as the content of his letters in the book!

My Big Leap

at Two Writing Teachers!

My teaching life will never be the same.

Last week, I interviewed for and accepted an ELL position for next year!

I've taught ELL summer school (elementary and middle school) for the past several summers, and I've loved every minute of it.  While teaching Spanish has been fun, I believe this is where my calling really lies.

Right now, as I'm finishing up the year (2 more days!) with my 6th and 7th Spanish students and starting to look forward to next year, I'm bouncing back and forth between excited and overwhelmed.

Excited
                                                                Overwhelmed
I finally get to teach ESL!
                                                               I still have so much to learn!
I can't wait to use my Spanish to
help students in their native language!
                                                              This is going to be SO different!
I get a room all year to create a home-y,
comforting, language-rich environment...
                                                              ... in English!  So many supplies to get!
I get to be in one building ALL YEAR!
                                                               It's a high school.  High school is going
                                                               to be different.  For starters, it's HUGE!
I get to use my love of all subjects to
support students in all content areas!
                                                               Do I remember all that math, science, and
                                                               social studies?  And that's SO MUCH to do!
I get to build the kinds of relationships
with students that only come through
sharing reading and writing together!
                                                                How will I help kids LOVE reading and
                                                                writing AND prepare them for testing
                                                                AND support their academic knowledge?
The curriculum is pretty flexible and
my new ideas are welcomed!
                                                                Oh my gosh, where do I start?!
I get to make a BIG difference
in the lives of kids. This MATTERS.
                                                               This is high-stakes. So much pressure!
Excited!
                                                                Overwhelmed.

If you can't say anything nice...

at Two Writing Teachers!

I'm sure you all just finished that sentence in your heads, so I'm not going to write it all out for you.  In fact, I'm not going to write much of anything today.  Because today was the first of several days of state testing, and I'm not going to say anything about state testing.

Sure, I could describe the pervasive cloud of apprehension that hangs over staff and students each morning to the point that it's difficult to breathe.  I could explain how everyone is so drained in the afternoon that neither the students nor I really feel up to doing much learning during our brief, hurry-up-and-get-started-because-class-is-almost-over-even-though-we-just-got-here time together.  I could talk about how one high-stress snapshot is not really a great indicator of a student's progress or achievement.

But instead, I'm just not going to say anything.  You all know how I feel, and you feel it too.

Instead, I'm going relax and enjoy reading all of your posts.  I'm going to play some games on my iPod, stretch out on the bed and read a book, listen to some music while fixing dinner, and watch that calming video my sweet husband found for me.  And not say anything at all.

Dublin Lit Conference

Yesterday I was fortunate to attend the Dublin Literacy Conference for the first time.  (I was also completely worn out and wanted to go to bed by 8:00, but a nice, happy kind of worn out!)

When the alarm went off at 7:00, I was wondering why I signed up to do this on a Saturday during the school year.  However, by 8:30, while I was singing "I love my white shoes" with Eric Litwin and James Dean (and an auditorium full of excited teachers), I was already glad I had come.  (I'll admit, I thought that part was going to be silly at first, but by halfway through Pete the Cat, I was entranced.)

 Next, we were treated to an amazing keynote speech by Donalyn Miller, the Book Whisperer.  It was one of the most energizing presentations I've heard in a long time.  You can view her presentation here, but I'll share some of my favorite highlights from her talk:

• "Boys want the same thing every reader wants -- to find themselves in books." (Donalyn) -- This seemed so profound because there is so much talk about trying to get boys to read, as if boys naturally don't want to read.  It's not that they don't want to, it's just that they don't want to read girly books that aren't interesting to them!  I bet if all the "classic" books were about war, monsters, and robots, we'd be moaning that girls didn't want to read!
• Seating kids according to the kind of books they like to read will help create reading communities where they naturally share & encourage each other to try new books.  -- I had never thought of this, and it seems so simple!  What an easy, natural way to get kids excited about reading!
• Set high expectations -- she wants her kids to read 40 books a year! Many exceed that, and the ones that don't get there still read way more than they ever have before.  -- The numbers of books her students read were ASTOUNDING, and then I thought back to how I'd read over a hundred books every summer as a kid.  Why do teachers expect kids to read so few books during the school year, when reading is so essential to learning?  This definitely made me re-think how I'd approach reading with my students if I ever teach ESL.
• She shared TONS of great suggestions for making kids WANT to read, including:
•  making reading the social norm by giving kids lots of time to read in class -- This seems like such a basic thing to do, and yet it seems like it would be so easy to say there's not enough class time to have kids spend it on reading.  I can definitely see how kids would want to read more if they see that's what everyone is doing!
• lots of different ways to have peers recommend books to each other -- I had heard and thought of many of these, but there were a few new ideas and it was really neat to see them in action and hear how they had really worked for her students.
• "Reading is the inhale, writing is the exhale." (Donalyn) -- I especially loved this statement because I have lived it personally.  I know I would not be the writer I am today if I had not been such an avid reader.

Later in the day, I got to attend not one, but TWO breakout sessions with the amazing Ruth Ayres from Two Writing Teachers!  In the first one, she shared some great thoughts about celebrating writers by focusing on the student writer, not the piece of writing itself.  I definitely got a new perspective on celebrating more often and helping students encourage each other.  In the second, she showed us how to create and implement effective mini-lessons, with several great videos of her own mini-lessons as examples!  I think the biggest revelation for me was to pull the kids into a meeting area for mini-lessons, even with older kids, to get the feeling of "coach to team" or "writer-to-writer".  I'm thinking about trying this even with my Spanish classes, when I do mini-lessons with them.  The practical steps and video examples she shared were so helpful and inspiring.  (Plus, I got to meet my blogging hero in person!)

The afternoon keynote was author Sharon Draper, who was extremely dynamic and passionate about her books. She shared some parts of her books with us, as well as some sweet, funny, and heartbreaking emails from young readers about her books.  My favorite part of her speech was a story about how she visited another country and talked with a man who commented that we Americans sure test our students a lot.  He told her, “If we want an elephant to grow, we feed it.  We don’t measure it.”

¿Pero un año entero sin el español?

at Latinaish.com!

Hoy mis estudiantes del 6o grado terminaron sus proyectos del zoológico.  (Dibujan sus zoológicos ideales y luego escriben sobre los animales.)  Mientras trabajaban, una chica muy agradable y dulce me dijo  -- No ví la clase del español en la hoja de elegir clases para el año que viene.
-- No... ahora no habrán las clases del 6o ni 7o grado...
-- ¿Pero, por qué?
-- Pues, la gente no aprobó los nuevos impuestos para las escuelas, entonces... pues, muchas clases se cortarán. Es que no hay dinero y los recortes son necesarios... --

Miradas muy desmayadas entre la chiquita y sus compañeras.  Otra chica me preguntó -- ¿Pero, qué hará Ud.?  -- Bueno, no sé.  Hasta ahora no nos han dicho nada.  Probablemente enseñaré en el colegio, pero.. pues, vamos a ver. -- Todas miraban hacia abajo.

La primera chica no quería creer las noticias.  -- Pero, si no puedo continuar con el español, ¿cómo lograré ser fluente? -- Pues, todavía puedes tomar clases del español durante el 8o grado y todos los años del colegio, si quieres... -- Sí, pero ¿un año entero sin el español? -- Con una mueca y un suspiro.

Qué bonito ver a mis estudiantes con tantas ganas de aprender el español.  ¡Pero qué lástima los recortes!

Reassurance

Last week, I was walking down the hallway on the way to lunch when I passed one of my former students.  One of those students you joke that you wish you had 10 of: sweet, cheerful, hard-working, enthusiastic.  Last year, he would just randomly let out these delightful little bursts of excitement in the middle of class: "I love Spanish!"  "Your Notebook files are the best!"  Not many 7th grade boys just say stuff like that in front of everyone, even if they are having fun!

"Hi, P!" What a great kid. "Hi, Mrs. M!" Instead of walking on, he turns toward me and stops me at the side of the hallway. Bright eyes, earnest smile, cheerful as ever. "I just wanted to tell you how much your class last year helped me get ready for Spanish I.  I was so prepared for this year because of you!  It was really such a great class and I'm so glad I took it!"

I want to squeal with joy and skip down the hallway.

My classes are often on the small side, with less-"academic", more well-established programs (we only got 7th grade Spanish 3 years ago) like art, tech, etc. squeezing kids' already-too-tight schedules.  Together with a colleague who teaches at another school, I basically created the 6th & 7th grade programs from scratch.  I hand-make almost all of the activities we do in class.  I'm so proud of my programs and the learning that takes place in them, but sometimes it's easy to get discouraged about class sizes, being made to feel like "just" related arts, or being split between 3 buildings and yet belonging to none.

On top of everything, I found out a couple weeks ago that 6th & 7th grade Spanish are both being cut, due to the levy failure.  (Along with many other drastic cuts, all devastating to student opportunities.)  All that work, my heart and soul and sweat and tears, swept away because of money and politics.

I tried to tell myself that it was all worth it, that I had helped 3 years' worth of 6th & 7th graders discover Spanish, prepare themselves for future language study, look at the world from a new perspective, gain tolerance, learn new tech tools, and have fun while doing it all.  And I knew it was true, that those kids had new skills and new attitudes they wouldn't have without me.  But it was hard to believe myself.

It took one of them less than 30 seconds in the hallway to prove it to me.

30 Goals 1: My Teaching Philosophy

Earlier this year I read about the 30 Goals Challenge on Teacher Reboot Camp. I waffled between "THIRTY goals?!  That's so maannnny!" to "Cool, maybe I'll try it!" and back again.

When the first goal was posted, I was super busy with schoolwork (well, when am I NOT busy with schoolwork?) and it sounded like way too much work.  A video, poster, or presentation about my teaching philosophy?  Sounds like a grad school assignment!  I don't have time for that!  Maybe I'll see what the next one is... Besides, I already write a lot of posts that give peeks into what I believe about language teaching and teaching in general.


However, around that time, I read Brad at Edulang's challenge to post a quotation that defines your teaching.  Awesome!  I LOVE quotations.  Of course, I love them so much that I couldn't possibly pick just one... so I held off on that too.  I eventually came back to it about a week later and managed to narrow it down to two, which I just posted by commenting because I was too lazy/busy/tired to write a whole blog post about them:

1. "The greatest gift one can give to another person is a deeper understanding of life and the ability to love and believe in the self."  (Fred Rogers)
2. "You must get your living by loving, or at least half your life is a failure." (Henry David Thoreau)

Perhaps someday I'll get around to sharing some more of my favorite quotations.

Then the second goal of the 30 goals came.  Highlight a favorite inspiring teaching moment?  Powerful.  That really spoke to me.  Haven't done it yet, but it really got me thinking.  I know just what to write about -- that amazing girl. The one where I wish I would've been blogging while I worked with her because those few months were the most incredible teaching moments I've ever had.  Of course, that's a daunting task.  I just have so much to say about her. So of course, I haven't done it yet.

Still, she's been sitting in the back of my mind, bugging me to try out the 30 goals and get going.  So here I am today with Goal 1: My Me Manifesto.  I'm too much of a writer and perfectionist to really be able to write out or visually display everything I believe about teaching (at least, without spending inordinate amounts of time and energy!), so I decided to make it short and sweet by making a word cloud:

(view larger here at Wordle!)

I don't know if I'll ever get to the other 28, because that next goal is going to take a while.  I could probably write a book about my experience with R. and everything she taught me about life and teaching.  However, I'm looking forward to writing at least one post, or perhaps several, on my Magical Teaching Moment!

Until then... What are the major anchors of your teaching philosophy? Do you relate to mine?

Has anyone tried or completed 30 Goals in the past?  Are you thinking of jumping in this year?  We can give it a try together!

The joy of collaboration

Today we had a waiver day (no kids, PD all day) due to Race to the Top funding.  My brain is pretty fried, so here's a short reflection:

• The opportunity to discuss and APPLY whole-district ideas with people from my subject area is invaluable.  It's so important to figure out together how WE are going to apply RttT and progress measures to OUR classrooms to benefit student learning.
• Nothing helps decrease stress like talking things out with colleagues and realizing that they are all feeling the same way I do: a mixture of confidence and being overwhelmed.  Yes, we track our kids' progress all the time through a wide variety of authentic measures, so we're already ahead of many people, I suppose. However, it's going to take a lot of work to start formally documenting all of that progress and making it more concrete. Moreover, I'm not the only one who needs to do a lot more formal pre-assessing to identify concretely where kids are STARTING so we really know HOW MUCH they're growing.
• I LOVE collaboration -- at least, with colleagues who are "on the bus" (as School #2's principal would say) with the same types of ideas that I am.  I wish I got to collaborate with challenging, hard-working peers more often.  My current position makes me feel like an island, and while I definitely have an independent streak (I am an only child, after all!), I crave dialogue and idea-sharing and someone to work with on all these big initiatives that are looming ahead.   Moreover, I love the feeling of excitement that comes from passionate colleagues working together to increase student learning.  
• Since I don't get to connect with those "real-life" colleagues nearly as often or as consistently as I'd like, thank you to all of the wonderful teacher bloggers who also inspire, share your ideas and feelings, and provide that same excitement about student learning.  You are like a mini-collaboration session in my RSS reader every day!