Tomorrow, what you do may not be enough.
Tomorrow, you may have to set all else aside.
Tomorrow, you may have to listen to what your students need.
Not what you THINK they need, but what they are TELLING you they need.
And this may not be easy.
You will be pressured to cover content,
give assessments,
follow your scope & sequence,
assign homework,
get things done.
But a child has died.
One of our own.
Someone's daughter,
Best friend,
Sister,
Student.
It has taken over the thoughts, the lives, of everyone.
As it should.
So tomorrow will not be easy.
And tomorrow will hurt.
So take the time to listen.
Listen to what comes out of their mouths when they speak,
To what is in the air when they don't.
And understand that math
and science
and English
and history
may not be enough.
But you are.
You are enough.
And you are just what they need.
Tomorrow, you are exactly what they need.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Learning Walk, Part II (Wednesday)
Food for the body is not enough. There must be food for the soul.
~ Dorothy Day
It is really, truly amazing how many things can get in the way of the things that matter if we let them, or if we're not paying attention, or if we're not ADAMANT that the things that matter will take priority over ANYTHING else. This week I have been in countless meetings, been to my own children's school for an appointment, attended an all-day job fair trying to recruit teachers for next year... and it is only Wednesday morning.
Oh, and it was Fat Tuesday yesterday. I mean, the excuses just keep rolling!
HOWEVER... I will be resuming my Learning Walk beginning 3rd period today (9:45).
Science.
At least until I get called out.
For something not NEARLY as important as observing Teaching.
And Learning.
9:50am - Third Period
I take my seat in the back of the room. At the front, on a lab table, sits a large contraption that they will soon do a demonstration on. Of course students are curious about it. It sits directly on the front lab table. Two kids sit at the same table with it.
In the room are some of the same junior level students that sat in the English class during 2nd period. Some are different. As I look around the room at the kids who comprise this entry level Science course, I see the guitar player who performed at Battle of the Bands this past Friday night. He will also be in the upcoming Spring Musical - "Once Upon This Island." I see a football player who struggles to get to school on time on a daily basis. I see a varsity basketball player who rode the bench most of the year because she wasn't quite the calibre of the rest of her team. I see a student who is not involved in anything at all. He transferred here at semester and is still trying to figure out the culture here at our small community high school of only 700 students.
The student I have been shadowing suddenly blurts out that the boy next to her is making fun of her drawing of the equation she has been recording from the notes on the board.
There is laughter and joking, even from the instructor.
It's all in good fun.
At the same time, it reminds me of elementary school, where kids suddenly blurt out of nowhere that someone is looking at them, someone called them a name, someone's tummy hurts. You get the idea.
It reminds me that they are still kids. Just in bigger bodies.
There are 16 kids in the room. As opposed to the English classroom 2nd period (close to 25 kids), one would think that there is more of an opportunity to ensure that every single kid in the room receives attention, that every single kid is known well, that every single kid in this room understands the content well. And it's not that the master teacher in English can't give every single one of her kids attention, can't know every single one of her kids well; indeed, she does. Rather, it's more about whether or not the teacher has the motivation to do so. Which he does. More on this later.
I asked the other day whether or not students in higher level courses can remain at least as engaged as when they are in courses that contain content that is a little more exciting (recall that they were learning about proper formatting for an MLA-style major paper). This is a prime example. Every single student is engaged and attentive. Every single student is paying attention to the demonstration up front. Most of the kids in the back are craning their necks so that they are able to see.
The kids in the back.
Let's talk about them for a moment.
In the back are five boys who may be the exception. They are spread out and, for the most part, sit at different tables. At least three of the five have headphones in their ears, the other end of which is connected to their phones. Listening to music, perhaps. Perhaps not.
My attention is drawn, momentarily, to two other students who have moved toward each other and have opened a survey they've apparently created. For another class.
The five boys in the back have all put their Science materials away and are now fully engaged in whatever is on their phones. There are still 10 minutes left in class at this point. The teacher has made his way to the back of the room and is asking them if they are working on Science, engages in some conversation with them, discusses the video they were watching on their phone (related to the class). The new boy sits by himself with both headphones plugged into his ears, the table top in front of him blank. Clearly wanting to be left alone. He gets his wish.
My student sits in the very front of the room. She continues to utilize every available minute. She has brought out little containers of snacks that she munches while her pen flies across the paper, figuring solutions and conversing with the teacher. She makes notations as he guides and corrects her. I check her grade. She still sits at a 76.6%. I notice that another grade has also dropped since last week. Her Honors Spanish III is now sitting at a 78%. Another C. But her work ethic is strong. I don't worry too much about her.
The period is about to end and I turn my attention to the back of the room. There is no one there. The boys have snuck past me and are waiting at the door for the bell to ring. I want to follow my student to her next class - a higher level Math class - but I'm also thinking about my five boys. One in particular. I decide to pull up his grades before we leave. He's failing the Science course with an incredible 39%. He's also in a higher level Math. With an 11%.
11%.
What's the difference between him and my other student?
My other questions still remain.
But I have more.
As I prepare to leave the room, I look at my own schedule, see when I can get back to the shadow project, dig in a little deeper.
I see that tomorrow is out -
I'm out-of-district all day, leading a group on a site visit of another school.
Friday I have meetings from 7:00am until 1:00pm.
Plus it's an Early Release.
Students are done at 12:40pm.
Another day where other things take precedence over the real work.
I made it to exactly one class today.
If you throw in the one class I observed last Friday,
that's a grand total of two class visits over four school days.
Two.
Not all that great.
It is really, truly amazing how many things can get in the way of the things that matter if we let them, or if we're not paying attention, or if we're not ADAMANT that the things that matter will take priority over ANYTHING else. This week I have been in countless meetings, been to my own children's school for an appointment, attended an all-day job fair trying to recruit teachers for next year... and it is only Wednesday morning.
Oh, and it was Fat Tuesday yesterday. I mean, the excuses just keep rolling!
HOWEVER... I will be resuming my Learning Walk beginning 3rd period today (9:45).
Science.
At least until I get called out.
For something not NEARLY as important as observing Teaching.
And Learning.
9:50am - Third Period
I take my seat in the back of the room. At the front, on a lab table, sits a large contraption that they will soon do a demonstration on. Of course students are curious about it. It sits directly on the front lab table. Two kids sit at the same table with it.
In the room are some of the same junior level students that sat in the English class during 2nd period. Some are different. As I look around the room at the kids who comprise this entry level Science course, I see the guitar player who performed at Battle of the Bands this past Friday night. He will also be in the upcoming Spring Musical - "Once Upon This Island." I see a football player who struggles to get to school on time on a daily basis. I see a varsity basketball player who rode the bench most of the year because she wasn't quite the calibre of the rest of her team. I see a student who is not involved in anything at all. He transferred here at semester and is still trying to figure out the culture here at our small community high school of only 700 students.
The student I have been shadowing suddenly blurts out that the boy next to her is making fun of her drawing of the equation she has been recording from the notes on the board.
There is laughter and joking, even from the instructor.
It's all in good fun.
At the same time, it reminds me of elementary school, where kids suddenly blurt out of nowhere that someone is looking at them, someone called them a name, someone's tummy hurts. You get the idea.
It reminds me that they are still kids. Just in bigger bodies.
There are 16 kids in the room. As opposed to the English classroom 2nd period (close to 25 kids), one would think that there is more of an opportunity to ensure that every single kid in the room receives attention, that every single kid is known well, that every single kid in this room understands the content well. And it's not that the master teacher in English can't give every single one of her kids attention, can't know every single one of her kids well; indeed, she does. Rather, it's more about whether or not the teacher has the motivation to do so. Which he does. More on this later.
I asked the other day whether or not students in higher level courses can remain at least as engaged as when they are in courses that contain content that is a little more exciting (recall that they were learning about proper formatting for an MLA-style major paper). This is a prime example. Every single student is engaged and attentive. Every single student is paying attention to the demonstration up front. Most of the kids in the back are craning their necks so that they are able to see.
The kids in the back.
Let's talk about them for a moment.
In the back are five boys who may be the exception. They are spread out and, for the most part, sit at different tables. At least three of the five have headphones in their ears, the other end of which is connected to their phones. Listening to music, perhaps. Perhaps not.
My attention is drawn, momentarily, to two other students who have moved toward each other and have opened a survey they've apparently created. For another class.
The five boys in the back have all put their Science materials away and are now fully engaged in whatever is on their phones. There are still 10 minutes left in class at this point. The teacher has made his way to the back of the room and is asking them if they are working on Science, engages in some conversation with them, discusses the video they were watching on their phone (related to the class). The new boy sits by himself with both headphones plugged into his ears, the table top in front of him blank. Clearly wanting to be left alone. He gets his wish.
My student sits in the very front of the room. She continues to utilize every available minute. She has brought out little containers of snacks that she munches while her pen flies across the paper, figuring solutions and conversing with the teacher. She makes notations as he guides and corrects her. I check her grade. She still sits at a 76.6%. I notice that another grade has also dropped since last week. Her Honors Spanish III is now sitting at a 78%. Another C. But her work ethic is strong. I don't worry too much about her.
The period is about to end and I turn my attention to the back of the room. There is no one there. The boys have snuck past me and are waiting at the door for the bell to ring. I want to follow my student to her next class - a higher level Math class - but I'm also thinking about my five boys. One in particular. I decide to pull up his grades before we leave. He's failing the Science course with an incredible 39%. He's also in a higher level Math. With an 11%.
11%.
What's the difference between him and my other student?
My other questions still remain.
But I have more.
As I prepare to leave the room, I look at my own schedule, see when I can get back to the shadow project, dig in a little deeper.
I see that tomorrow is out -
I'm out-of-district all day, leading a group on a site visit of another school.
Friday I have meetings from 7:00am until 1:00pm.
Plus it's an Early Release.
Students are done at 12:40pm.
Another day where other things take precedence over the real work.
I made it to exactly one class today.
If you throw in the one class I observed last Friday,
that's a grand total of two class visits over four school days.
Two.
Not all that great.
Monday, March 4, 2019
Great Leaders - Repost from 12.27.2008
"If the bottom line of life is happiness, then it makes perfect sense to say that it is the journey that counts, not reaching the destination."
~Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
(I am reposting this piece I wrote about 10 years ago. Never before have I felt a stronger need to make sure we are exuding positivity in the work that we do)
What do great leaders do differently from leaders? What separates an average leader from an extraordinary leader? One characteristic that has been weighing heavily on my mind of late is attitude. Great leaders set the example and must remember that everything counts. My office is housed upstairs in our school, and the quarters are, to say the least, cramped. It can be difficult to stay positive 100% of the time when there are days when you feel everyone is on top of one another. I began to notice that if I came in feeling grumpy, by nine in the morning, my whole office staff was on edge, which effects the parents who come in or call, and the teachers who tend to drop by and say hello while making copies. And this, of course, could have a less-than-positive effect on the children in those classrooms. I decided to try a little experiment. After all, I could not possibly have this much of an impact on everyone. Could I?
For one week, I came in bright-eyed and cheery, greeting everyone I ran into, shaking hands with one and all, even bringing coffee into the office staff. They thought I had gone a little haywire, but hey, I could tell that everyone was feeling good about themselves. All right, so this was fun, and I found myself feeling very productive and on top of my game, even though I had forced myself to play this little game. I wrote all of my observations in a notebook.
The next week, I purposefully went out of my way to be grumpy, cut people off in mid-sentence, yell at my office staff (even though it was difficult to find anything they were doing wrong), and just be in an overall foul mood. At around 2:00 in the afternoon, mid-week of the experiment, a teacher came looking for me. I was holed up in my office and hadn't seen her or heard from her all week. She plopped herself down in a chair opposite my desk and said, "So, I hear you're in a pretty bad mood. People are wondering what's wrong with you." I was dumbfounded. I was also happy to know that people noticed my moods.
Whether or not our moods have a positive or negative impact on the people we work with, it is our responsibility to put a positive spin on things. We have the power and obligation to filter what comes out of our mouths, what information we share with others, and to model what kind of behavior we expect out of people. It all starts with our attitude. We set the tone.
In the words of the Hungarian psychology professor, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, "People who learn to control inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives." And if we can accomplish this for ourselves, who knows what we might be able to help others accomplish. It's worth a try, and those we serve are worth it.
Saturday, March 2, 2019
Friday Learning Walk, Part I
As I write this morning (yesterday), I am sitting in an English classroom. It is a room full of junior level students. They are, for the most part, highly motivated. They all have good grades and are all genuinely good, nice people. I know this because I know every single one of them by name. They are not, contrary to popular belief about kids who take either honors or advanced level courses, all involved in school activities - whether it be clubs, athletics, or any other type of extra-curricular activity. I am able to, however, from my perch in the very rear of the classroom, see that there are a good number who are involved in Track & Field, Drama, Spirit Club, among others.
Today, they are being instructed in the proper formatting for the writing of major papers. They are being instructed by a highly sought after, master teacher. She is the kind that students come back to visit and talk about long after they have left school. She is the type that students request and if her class is filled, decide they might pursue another course, another pathway. She is that kind of good. Maybe you've had the privilege of being in her class. If you haven't, I'm sorry. I hate grammar and proper formatting and all things MLA or APA, and yet I could sit and listen to her and learn for hours.
I wonder about the rest of the day for these students. What it's like, if they can remain as engaged as they are now with content that is not all that exciting, as opposed to when the content might be a little more interesting but the teacher in front of them is not as engaging.
I am pulling up a student's schedule in our student information system. We run a straight, eight-period day. It is a fairly rigorous schedule for a 17 year old. Besides a couple of period changes, not much changed from 1st to 2nd semester. The biggest difference is that she dropped her Intro to Psych class and picked up a PE. Pretty good move for a schedule that contains mostly honors and advanced-level courses. I believe in the power of physical education as a stress and anxiety reliever.
Today, they are being instructed in the proper formatting for the writing of major papers. They are being instructed by a highly sought after, master teacher. She is the kind that students come back to visit and talk about long after they have left school. She is the type that students request and if her class is filled, decide they might pursue another course, another pathway. She is that kind of good. Maybe you've had the privilege of being in her class. If you haven't, I'm sorry. I hate grammar and proper formatting and all things MLA or APA, and yet I could sit and listen to her and learn for hours.
I wonder about the rest of the day for these students. What it's like, if they can remain as engaged as they are now with content that is not all that exciting, as opposed to when the content might be a little more interesting but the teacher in front of them is not as engaging.
I am pulling up a student's schedule in our student information system. We run a straight, eight-period day. It is a fairly rigorous schedule for a 17 year old. Besides a couple of period changes, not much changed from 1st to 2nd semester. The biggest difference is that she dropped her Intro to Psych class and picked up a PE. Pretty good move for a schedule that contains mostly honors and advanced-level courses. I believe in the power of physical education as a stress and anxiety reliever.
I follow this same student out of English and see where her schedule takes her. She has AIM next, which is designed at the same time of the day for every single person in the school. If a student needs assistance from a teacher, she can go and get the help she needs during AIM.
Today, however, the student I have decided to shadow is involved in conducting interviews for next year's LINK Crew. No time to study or ask for help in any of her classes this day. At least she has that Study Hall at the end of the day. Not that she will use it for what it's designed. This is something I discovered early on last year, especially in what we call "Upper" Study Hall. The student in an Upper Study Hall has maintained a GPA high enough to earn an unstructured 45 minutes. Most of them are held in the Student Commons or Cafeteria. Most kids in them watch Netflix on their phones or laptops.
I decide to look up my student's grades. See how she's faring. Solid A's and B's, except for her Physics class, which sits at a C. A quick check into her historical record and I can see that has always been an A-B student, currently holding a 3.5 grade point average. She is in the top quartile of her class.
Next up - a Science course. I know next to nothing about this material. Or at least I don't think I do. And I don't know if high school students know too much about the content going in to the class at first, either. So what will their success depend on? How do they know if they are even interested in a particular course in the Science arena? I keep an open mind as I sit in the back of the classroom, give a nod to the teacher that lets him know I'm just here to take in some teaching and learning today, and open my laptop to take some notes as he speaks.
Of course, not all things go as planned... I'm called down to the office and have to postpone my investigation into one student's schedule. I am intrigued, however, and will pick up where I left off next week - 3rd period Science. A couple of things I'm interested in and will be looking for and noodling over next week:
Next up - a Science course. I know next to nothing about this material. Or at least I don't think I do. And I don't know if high school students know too much about the content going in to the class at first, either. So what will their success depend on? How do they know if they are even interested in a particular course in the Science arena? I keep an open mind as I sit in the back of the classroom, give a nod to the teacher that lets him know I'm just here to take in some teaching and learning today, and open my laptop to take some notes as he speaks.
Of course, not all things go as planned... I'm called down to the office and have to postpone my investigation into one student's schedule. I am intrigued, however, and will pick up where I left off next week - 3rd period Science. A couple of things I'm interested in and will be looking for and noodling over next week:
- How much of an impact does the teacher really have on student learning, especially when the content is dense and perhaps tough to understand? And how is one able to tell? What are the indicators?
- How do we know if a student's schedule and course load is developmentally appropriate?
- What can we tell from shadowing a student? What are the takeaways? What questions should we be asking? And what should we do about it?
- (Can I make it through this Science class??)
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