There are several things I dislike about school. One of the main things is the constant control of the environment and the feeling of needing to control how students accomplish their learning. Maybe I have too much trust in my students? Maybe I feel like it's better to stop worrying about "covering" material and let kids experience it, but I often feel like my approach is viewed as too hands-off. At times, I have students who are so uncomfortable with the responsibilities that I give them and I am forced to do more traditional stuff. I understand. They haven't had the chance to experience learning the way I want them too and they are just not there yet.

This week, 35 of my students went with me to put on a Literacy Carnival for 1st graders. There were game stations, but my favorite was the reading buddies station. Each of my students would help a 1st grader select a book (which they got to keep) and would read with them. I did some low-key preparation with my students. I prepped them to help kids select from the books, deal with shy kids, and how to decide who would be doing the reading...the big buddy or the little one? I also demonstrated expressive reading. It was brief. (seriously, 15 minutes of guidance)

What I saw from my students was simply amazing. Yes, they were enthusiastic. Yes, some of them are naturally talented. But honestly, when they knew that a 1st grader was counting on them, they rose to the occasion in amazing ways. I saw surprising compassion and amazing good judgement from my kids. When one of my students had a little girl talk to her about abuse in her home, my student knew to tell me, and was willing to talk to the social worker at the elementary school. But more importantly, she expressed caring and concern to the little girl--at that moment. She even wrote a special message in the girl's chosen book.

I want to say that this is learning. I want to say that this is why I trust my students. I want to say that this is why I have problems with school and the control that it wants to force on me to in turn, force upon my students. I don't need to tell my kids exactly what to do. NO ONE DOES. They are thinking, caring, feeling, wonderful human beings. And I think they need to know that I trust them.

The problem is that I don't teach "the good kids." No one trusts and expects this from them. At other schools, they would never be allowed to participate in this service learning project because they wouldn't meet the criteria of being a "good kid." Why? Why to we insist on denying kids the opportunities during which they would shine and we would see real light in them?

Yesterday proved to me that my approach is not wrong. I will continue to express to my students that I see the best in them and know that they are awesome and amazing...even when I doubt it. I believe in learning.

When it's about being a human being...

I had a conversation with a few SIers during UNCCWP SI about adopting the persona of "teacher." I think I was sharing about how sometimes I dislike my "teacher self." By this, I mean the person who reacts calmly to bad situations, who doesn't get offended by weird student comments, and who has an in-charge personality in the classroom. It's not like any of those things are bad, it's just that sometimes being that person tires me.

I started thinking about not being "Teacher Christin" anymore. Than I realized that the kids would go crazy and think no one was in charge. And then I started to think about being present with my students and how I want to do more writing with them in classroom. I started thinking about how my teacher-self and writer-self could coexist in greater harmony.

And then...

One of my former students suffered a horrific tragedy...a great loss. For the sake of privacy that's all I'll say about that. But the magnitude of the student's loss made me think about what mattered to the student when he was in my classroom. I thought about the conversations we've had since he graduated a couple years ago and the things he remembers about our time together. He remembers me being very honest, very straightforward, very strong and in charge. He liked that. He liked that I could challenge him and he liked that I was authentic about what I taught. And I was being "teacher Christin" at some points during his time in my classes. I started thinking about being authentic and human and "teacher" all at the same time. Wow...these were some deep thoughts...

So where I'm at with this right now is that I can be all these things. It's ok, as long as I'm being authentically the teacher/writer/person/student/etc. Because in the end, I'm still in the lives of some of my former students. They still see me as their teacher...but they see me as a human being too, because that's what I was in the classroom.

Long ago and Far Away...

How can SI feel like it was so long ago? There was this moment when I was eating my salad at Amelie's, on the last day, that I realized fully what an incredible experience I had just been a part of. It's really amazing what soft French cheese on lettuce can help to put into perspective.  This week, I miss it. (not just the cheese...)

This week, "normal life" has been crowding my thoughts and I miss the seclusion I felt for 12 days. I was focused and insulated. I know that can't be forever...I know that all writers must also deal with life...bathroom repairs...internet connection issues...algae in pools...lawn mowing...dog care...exercise...the list goes on and on.

I think was has really struck me though, is how happy I felt during SI. I have been working to pin down why I felt so happy as I seek to create more space for that feeling in my life. If one feels so happy while writing and craves that experience so very much, I think one just might be a writer! And it's not that writing isn't hard work or fraught with frustration. It's just that I'm happy while writing despite that.

I really want to make more time for this writing space in my life. Maybe it will come in the form of participating in writing marathons, maybe from working with my new little writing group. Maybe, I need to pay special attention to carving out time in my daily life. Whatever it is, I think I understand what the Olympians describe at the end of the 16 days. There is the bond of shared experience and shared goals that cannot be replicated in other environments. The energy of people who are open to life's possibilities and come together to work on the personal quest is truly life-altering.

Almost without being able to control it, I move toward that first day of school with a sense of dread. I don't want to lose this writing-happy part of myself to the daily grind, the pressing expectations, the interactions with parents and students, and the never-ending documentation. After school starts I always feel that feeling that I call "toasted." I feel like I've been cooked a little too long, or like I've had my insides poured out, mixed up and poured back in--nothing is quite right. I would love to know how to plan for this feeling and how to learn to overcome it. My teacher friends and I agree, there's no tired like school tired. I have a feeling that this will take some good food, new pens, and deliberate planning to watch stupid TV.

Until then, I'm trying to enjoy each remaining day off while staving off the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

leaving and taking

I'm leaving:

the insecure teacher I was
the lonely teacher
the teacher who thought maybe she shouldn't be teaching
the teacher who always felt like she shouldn't be asking the questions she was asking...

I'm taking:
A writer (who was always there)
Learner (who I never lost)
friends
hope
writing
1.5 full daybooks

My Inquiry (thus far)

My inquiry really began on May 5th. Until that time, I was not familiar with the concept of the "daybook." Journals, yes. Writing prompts, yes. But I was certainly not familiar with the epic gluing and writing and trimming of paper to fit into one's composition book. This process immediately felt very organic to me and I knew that I was going to embrace it in my own writing life.

Then we started talking about using the daybook with students in our classes. I could not envision using it in the way that everyone else would be...prompted by me...group writing time...handouts...etc. I knew this would not work for me in my non-traditional classroom. So how was I going to help my students embrace a practice and a way of thought that I knew would help them? Well, that's were my inquiry began.

One of the first things I did after the SI orientation was to read "Thinking Out Loud On Paper" by some of our fearless leaders. It was a great read. I enjoyed hearing about how the daybook worked in various types of classrooms and for different styles of teaching. I felt a bit freed, but there were still no examples of how I teach or what I would need to have happen in my classroom.

I decided that my best next step was to fully embrace the daybook in my own life as writer and as teacher and see what happened when I didn't separate the two. Generally, I've liked to put different types of writing in different books. I resisted that urge and found a feeling of carefree abandon. The entire time I was writing in my daybook I was always thinking about my students. How can I help them to embrace this? I can't really mandate it unless I want to grade it--which I already know I don't want to do.

Meanwhile, my principal asked me to in some way support and help with Biology instruction. WHAT? I know very little about science! I started thinking about reading and writing across the curriculum. I started thinking about vocabulary and I theorized about the reasons students struggled with the content of the course. Hmmm...root words...hmmm...special vocabularies...hmmm...writing.

Next, I really started thinking about my day to day interactions with my students and how many bits and pieces of our conversations I wanted to capture or come back to...but I would forget them! The daybook became the perfect space to record these notes and refer back to them when conferencing with the student at a later date. Students started to ask me what I was doing and we started having an informal dialogue about daybooks. Was this the key?

Fast forward to SI. My daybook became the key to my brain. Without that innocent composition book, I wouldn't remember what I had done or thought about during the course of each action packed day. As each day progressed and I engaged in deep, exhausting thoughts with other deep, exhausted people, I realized that the best way to use the daybook idea with my students would be to make it indispensable to them. I plan to achieve this not by making them do it for a grade, but by using it as a platform of our conversation. I can ask questions like: "When you were reading that article about homelessness, did you write any thoughts in your daybook?" Or, "I think that is a good line of thought, why don't you map that out in your daybook." And possibly, "Let's brainstorm together in our daybooks for 2 minutes and then meet and discuss where we should go with this idea." I also really like the idea of giving students the opportunity to personalize their books on that epic first or second day of school. I will provide fun materials and encourage it as a group project. Some won't want to do it. Some will think it's "baby stuff." That's ok. I will remain authentically enthusiastic because it's something that I'm excited about for my own life, not just a teacher-thing I'm doing.

I've gone back and forth and down a few rabbit holes during SI. I've questioned my inquiry and whether it was legitimate. (code for too easy) I've come out the other end with slightly more faith in my instincts about my learning environment and a lot more information to back those instincts up. So, to sum up my inquiry, I would deem it a success. I inquired. In fact, I wrestled. In that wrestling I came up with a plan that I'm comfortable with and that I think will enhance my student's learning. I think I will continue this inquiry with blogging as I introduce the daybook to REAL STUDENTS this year. I look forward to continuing to learn and grow with my students.

Yes, I'm still blogging!

I will begin this post with a sarcastic apology: Sorry Mary!

I haven't blogged since last Thursday. This is mostly due to the fact that I felt like my thoughts didn't add up to anything.  Tonight, I've thrown caution to the wind...well actually I had a few more cohesive thoughts while in the shower and that's why I decided to blog.

SI has been a mixed bag for me. Although everything is really fun and good (great descriptors there...) sometimes what we've worked on and talked about has left me in an uncomfortable space with my own identity. There have been moments where I've felt unsure about who I've become during my journey as a teacher and moments where I've felt a bit "wobbly" about whether I've done things the "right" way. This is coming only from me. I know this because everything I've experienced at SI has been affirming and reassuring even within a questioning space. This has left me with a feeling that I can now put into some questions: Is what I have to offer as a teacher valuable? Does my unusual educational background negatively impact my students? What parts of myself have I given up in order to fit in to a public school teaching environment? Why am I doing this?

My life has always been about learning. My parents may have been pioneers in the homeschooling world and may not have done everything "right," but they did help me find my identity as a learner. I grew up without a care about grades or being smart or passing tests. I loved poetry. I listened to French records with my mother for fun. I read more books than I can believe. There were few boundaries between school/life/home/community. I was a person. I felt joy often.

I want these things for my students. However, I am both a dreamer and a realist. My students have grown up in a system where they expect me to play a certain role. I am the great "giver of grades." (epic music playing in background) I am always negotiating between ME and TEACHER ME. How do I reconcile the two?

It is easy for me to criticize myself and my teaching. But if I'm realistic, I notice that I have had good results with individual students and with EOCs etc. My students show growth according to the fancy data generators. I think I can feel proud, or at least successful because of that, but I always hold myself to another standard because I don't teach to the test. Actually, I was asked by a district curriculum person how I achieved the scores and growth I do. I stated that I never think about the test. This is true. I think the person was disappointed that I didn't have a more sophisticated response. Obviously, I'm not good at buzz words and school-lingo, or maybe I would have said something else. Well, probably not.

So if I'm thinking about grades, I could say that my grades have been good. If I measure myself against others, I've had some success. However, this is not what I look at. I look back on the student who I didn't reach and I wonder how I failed. I remember moments where I was too tired to fully address a student's need. I think about miscommunications that hurt someone's feelings. As a person who was never measured by grades as a child, I can't fully accept a grade now. I will always think about personal best. On the surface this may seem like a great idea. I'm sure you recognize it as a double edged sword.

I don't think I have any answers to my questions, but I have one thing that I didn't have before SI. That one thing is the feeling of not being alone in my quest for answers to my questions. I now know I am not the only one asking about grading. And more importantly to me, I'm not asking about it just because of my own non-traditional background. I have felt marginalized by some after I "come out" about my non-traditional educational life. Now I know that my ideas are not generated just from a place of being different. I'm not just weird. I'm thinking deeply about teaching and my practice. I might be weird as well, but as I get older that seems less scary!

I think that one thing I will continue to do in my teaching, but with more confidence, is to bring myself as a learner and a person into my classroom. I will worry less about fitting in with other teachers. Obviously, there are people like me out there...I've met a group of them this summer! I will rest in the fact that it's ok not to have a perfect formula for writing a paper. (I didn't have one anyway...) I will also continue to be part of a conversation that I didn't have access to before.  I will rest with that.

I will never arrive at perfection. My teaching will never arrive at perfection. One thing I can tell you though...daybooks are going to work in my non-traditional setting. Daybooks are the way I will challenge my students to engage with their own thoughts and with me. It will be a beautiful mess of a thing. I can't wait to see the blank stares hear the groans when I pass out those composition books. It will be a beautiful moment.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know...

My inquiring mind wants to know where I'm going with my inquiry. Ha! But this is so true. I think maybe at the beginning I thought I was going to come up with some great, groundbreaking plan to help students to make daybooks a REAL part of their learning in my class and in their thinking as a whole.

Today, I think I'm looking for an answer that isn't there. What I mean is that maybe it's not as complicated as I think. I know I can't direct student use of daybooks. I will rarely be in a setting where I can say, "Now students, let's take 2.7 minutes to react in our daybooks...blah blah..." It's not going to happen like that. But what do I already do in my classroom that is different and that works for these kids? I work with them one on one. So this is where my daybook practice has to come in. I will have mine, they will have theirs, we will work together. I will share and be authentic and encourage students to feel safe in that space. I will model ways of thinking and ask them to think with me. It doesn't matter that I'm not leading and directing the entire class. It just doesn't matter. I don't have to be at SI to use and grow from using my daybook! Yes, it is nice to work together at times, and my students would benefit from that, but it isn't going to make or break the use of daybooks in my classroom.

YAY! I'm not done with my inquiry, but I'm feeling better.

At one point during today, I was feeling like this:

Yes, this horrible expression (self-portrait) was due to another SIer and her demo during which I would be blindfolded and sent on a mission with an assistant. I was on a mission to find an artifact of sound. Hmmm...that took some thought, but I felt like a great artifact would be a recording of the crosswalk robot voice on campus. (you know, the one that says "Mary Alexander Road")

My partner did a great job of not letting me die. And this is how I felt when I got back:

So this "game" is all fine and good, but what did I learn. I could say a lot about what I learned, but I think if you look back up at the 1st picture and think about me, thinking about how my students might feel when I give them an assignment they don't understand, you'll see where I'm headed with this. I was in a state of discomfort throughout the activity. Yet, there was also this strange sense of freedom--because I couldn't see anyone looking at me.

Deep thoughts for inquiring minds...