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Match up: texts, teachers, and students

The back of the cereal box of our times?
The back of the cereal box of our times?

This morning I promised myself not to touch either hand-held device, my cell phone or i-Pad, for at least five hours today. So far, so good. Lately I’ve acquired the odd habit of setting up arbitrary goals for myself, little mind games where only I know the rules. For example, in June, I told myself ‘no beer for a year.’ I really like beer, and though not trying to punish myself, just wanted to see if I could do it. Last night it got a little tricky because all I wanted to do was go out for a beer and nachos with my hubby, and instead we went through Dairy Queen drive-through and I traded a beer for a Peanut Buster Parfait. I have about one to two of those a year, so I guess I met my quota. Dang, it’s only July, too.

The other goal I set for myself was to try to do Camp NaNoWrMo. It’s July 7, and that means 6 days of only blog writing, which “doesn’t count.” All that’s happened is I am acutely aware that I haven’t written any drafts of fictional substance for months, and I’m overthinking everything. Too distracted, too grumpy, too much caffeine and not enough water. Focus, woman! Focus!

via GIPHY

This post is born of the fantastic Facebook pages/groups I’m honored to be in, specifically Notice & Note. Subscribers/members tend to post two types of questions: ‘What are some good text suggestions for X age group/Y skill or literary device,’ and ‘Does anyone have any suggestions on how to track student growth?’ I’ve already explored my plans for The Book Whisperer’s ideas, and am very excited about the how/why.

Now for the ‘what.’

I can’t read anymore. If a real, paper and bone book is in my hands, I have misplaced my reading glasses, or the light’s too far away, or I can’t get comfortable. If the text is on my Kindle, no problem, except something is kind of broken right now in my reader brain. Perhaps the paradox of choice is hitting me. I have too many unread books. Or perhaps it’s related to the ideas in this article, Why Can’t We Read Anymore by Hugh McGuire . And now I realize when I was gaming too much or flitting between devices, my brain seduced my actions with dopamine:

So, every new email you get gives you a little flood of dopamine. Every little flood of dopamine reinforces your brain’s memory that checking email gives a flood of dopamine. And our brains are programmed to seek out things that will give us little floods of dopamine. Further, these patterns of behaviour start creating neural pathways, so that they become unconscious habits: Work on something important, brain itch, check email, dopamine, refresh,dopamine, check Twitter, dopamine, back to work. Over and over, and each time the habit becomes more ingrained in the actual structures of our brains.

How can books compete?

Well, this blunt and honest conversation will take place at the beginning of my school year with students, that is what digitalization has done to their brains. All of our brains. Last year, my students who were readers were the ones who tended not to have a lot of television or screen time (remember those hippie parents, back in the day? Who didn’t have TVs? I gasped in bewildered horror anytime I came across a situation like that.)

Is the same thing happening to (other) teachers? Are teachers just not reading as much as they used to, grabbing a few YA novels or short stories, and curating them for themselves? Or it is just a means to share tried and true texts with one another? Probably the latter. But there may be some instances where it’s the former, or perhaps I’m projecting my own failings.

novels

I have my list of books/stories to share. I have an extensive classroom library, both hard copy and digital. There are apps and sites galore to help teachers find texts. There are news outlets, story sites, like This American Life, Storycorp, The Moth, Radiolab, etc. to explore, to name a few. It would take a lifetime to read or listen to all the infinite stories. Sites like Artifact App and CommonLit help educators ask the essential questions to guide reading, too. And there are still libraries, with real librarians, who love nothing more than to talk and share ideas about texts. But that involves getting out of my bathrobe and the house. Hmmm. Tough call. (Oh, like you’ve never hung out in your robe until 1PM on summer break!)

 

Artifact App
Artifact App

 

So what are we teachers looking for when we ask others about text suggestions? We’re looking the same things as when we recommend books to other adults. We want something relevant, that may speak to us, that we can find some universal truth, or help us connect. And this is where the digital dopamine can’t help us: texts, be they on the screen or paper, give us a much more powerful sensation than digital ones. Helping students understand these important brain functions will help them understand when a person hurts them on line, it feels real because our brains don’t know the difference. We want to share stories, and that drive gives me hope, for my students, and for myself.

McGuire writes:

I am reading books now more than I have in years. I have more energy, and more focus than I’ve had for ages. I have not fully conquered my digital dopamine addiction, though, but it’s getting there. I think reading books is helping me retrain my mind for focus.

While on the hunt for great texts, I plan on using my powers of digital organization and keep track, make a list, and add notes. But for the moment, I’m just going to make a sandwich.

 

 

 

 

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Email Extremism

image
Pulled in many directions…

Fascinating report from WBUR that links to two separate articles about emails in the workplace. Inspired by Principal Gerry Brooks, I wrote my own take on the content of emails not too long ago, and this ties in with the productivity, or lack thereof, with emails.

From the outset, I’ll say that though I don’t feel any grand accomplishment in compiling emails by name and then hitting the delete key en masse, I do sometimes need this mindless activity. Every minute of our waking hours shouldn’t be constructed as ‘productive.’ To me that is such a Puritan-Western-worker-bee mindset. However, these studies offer important ideas around the time thievery of email, and caution us all in terms of what is productive and counter-productive. Communication and its value is subjective, however: what we send in those emails is just as important as how much time they take. Would banning emails in a school for a time period help with both teacher and student productivity, and more importantly: would it help with creativity and communication? Is it even feasible to consider this?

From the article, ‘Some Companies Are Banning Email and Getting More Done’ by David Burkus

https://hbr.org/2016/06/some-companies-are-banning-email-and-getting-more-done

They continued the “no-email” condition for five days, continued to observe the participants, track their computer usage, and measure their heart rates. Participants began to communicate face-to-face and over the telephone more frequently. Most participants also spent significantly more time in each computer program that they used, suggesting that they were much less distracted. Judging by heart rates, participants also experienced significantly less stress when blocked from email. The participants even noticed this effect themselves. They consistently reported feeling more relaxed and focused, as well as more productive, with their email shut off than under normal working conditions.

I’ve been using Moodle, and now Canvas, for years. Canvas is superior to Moodle, and it is my wish we continue to use this platform. One of its advantages (and there is another side to this sword) is students can upload just about any assignment during a time frame, allowing teachers to monitor progress in real time. When it’s done, it’s done. It provides a message to them and there are no papers to lose or blame to be thrown. However, the disadvantage is if I close an assignment and give it a hard deadline, inevitably there will be students who can’t or didn’t turn it in, see the grade in the grading system, panic, and then email it to me. So now I have another digital record. I try to be patient about this. If I need to ‘open’ the assignment again, I will, but then I have stragglers who turn things in and have to explain I’ll do another grade sweep when it’s convenient for me. I try my best to keep within a two-week turn around. So, I am managed by the online management systems.

Next year I am considering a ban from students in emails, and banning or limiting myself in how often I check emails. But this cultural professional shift can’t reside from me, it must come from administration. We need our emails to be accessible at all times in a school environment for safety reasons. But there are some personal rules I can create to help my own definition of success or productivity.

Perhaps the right course of action is to consider the article’s advice, ‘Stop Doing Low-Value Work’ by Priscella Claman. 

Some of my personal rules may be:

*The emails I generate are short. If it’s longer than a paragraph, then I will just email the stakeholders when they’re available to talk in person.

*Make sure subject lines are informative and direct

*Check before school, after school, during planning. Period.

The tasks where I want to be more productive include student feedback. If emails and other ‘low-value tasks’ are taking away energy then I’m doing it wrong. Student feedback is key, and that’s the first order of business.

Any thoughts on this process or information? I’d love to hear them!

 

 

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Gentle giants.

bfg
Trying to be the big person isn’t easy.

“Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”–Eleanor Roosevelt

Confession: sometimes my mind, and actions, hits all three sides. Perhaps, though, there is form and function in all points: we need the ideas, we need to analyze events, and we strive to understand one another. Gossip and venting for its own sake are counterproductive, but is it a necessary evil?

Jason Deehan recently posted in Edutopia, “Should Venting About Students be Banned?” and his conclusion is yes. He dug further to consider consequences, and found this:

First, I found an article on Psychology Today. The article acknowledged that venting had healthy properties. For instance, venting is helpful in releasing pent-up negative emotions. However, the positives are counterbalanced by a number of significant concerns:

  • Venting gives the venter the false sense of achieving something – it feels like problem-solving, but really isn’t

  • When you vent often, you get better and better at it and that will only lead to more anger in the future when encountering similar situations

The “false sense of achieving something” struck a nerve. I’m writing about this for intentionality: to keep that sense in my mind so I can grow and improve: is my conversation/exchange going to produce a positive change?  Thinking before one speaks — not a novel idea, but an important one. If I can say, at the end of a reflection or introspection, I am trying to stand on top of things that drag down and don’t lift up, then I can live with my conscience. My teaching philosophy is and has been, our students are someone’s baby. We have the greatest responsibility in the world to those children. If our venting doesn’t shift to action and support, then it’s a waste of everyone’s time. And that is bordering on unforgivable.

What is far too common is the frustration I have felt when particular students come up again and again in conversation and then nothing changes – there is never a discussion of fixes or solutions. Venting needs to be coupled with problem-solving strategies to ensure that whatever situation is generating the vexation is successfully addressed. We need to move forward and get off the ceaseless treadmill of merely complaining.

This may be the singular reason why I haven’t eaten in the staff lounge for years. It only takes a few colleagues to vent not only about students, but policies, instruction and educational culture  to chase me out. When I walk in the staff lounge it’s a scene from Mean Girls. One of my colleagues started a “no venting” jar like a swear jar in the staff lounge a few years ago, but alas, it didn’t change behaviors. But that’s only 20 minutes out of the day: no one can adjudicate adult behaviors. The good news is most adults act like adults, so helping model manners and belonging isn’t difficult.

Back to the focus on students: this is when teams and PLCs should perhaps consider a genuine and difficult conversation around this topic of venting about students. Often the PLCs I’ve participated in allow a 3-minute vent session, and then it’s stopped. We get onto more productive work. Perhaps a small shift would bring big changes: identify issues and work to problem solve together. I’m thinking of the student who mocked the other one before the presentations: I would greatly value hearing from trusted colleagues on how they pre-teach audience behaviors, etc. These sorts of issues are real, and with supportive exchanges can be beneficial. A cure, as it were, to the venting disease.

The challenge is to promote constructive dialogue about students in order to advocate for them. I reviewed this post with my husband, and he thought the article held truth, too. This isn’t meant to shame anyone except myself, and take myself to task, these are only my own thoughts and reflection on this issue. Perhaps this is how good teachers don’t burn out: I wonder if venting without solutions makes one cranky.

And last confession: I like that time during lunch. A few students who enjoy the quiet, removed from the chaos of the lunchroom sometimes join me, and it’s quite pleasant indeed. Everyone needs a place to vent safely, and finding those compadres and spaces are important to our mental health, too.

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My Inner Buttercup.

 

She's the toughest fighter...
She’s the toughest fighter…

All over social media my colleagues post ‘hang in there!’ Or, ‘is it a full moon?’ kinds of posts. Spring break for our district (and my son’s) occurred the first week of April, and we have quite a ways to go. In the Love shack, we have our own things going on: three years ago we managed to get our older son through his senior year, and now it’s time for our younger son, and it’s a{…………….} time and experience.

Daniel and his friend Nate at my school, job shadowing teachers. My son would be an amazing teacher, and I hope he considers this path.
Daniel and his friend Nate at my school, job shadowing teachers. My son would be an amazing teacher, and I hope he considers this path. (Daniel is the one in the Seahawks sweatshirt.)

In addition to our personal lives, which always seem to go off the crazy train rails this time of year, we’re so focused on student learning, testing, classroom management, data collection, etc. we may be overlooking a key element to unnecessary stress, and that is stress from other colleagues. So this morning, I poured myself a large cup of magical coffee (see Exhibit A) and decided to collect my thoughts on stress, colleagues, and collegial relationships. My first order of business: don’t be a jerk.

Exhibit A: magical beans
Exhibit A: magical beans

So how do we cause each other stress? Well, it all depends. We may have long-standing philosophical differences that start to rub raw this time of year, or projects and collaborations that fall apart (group work doesn’t always work for adults, either). There may be personal grudges, or simply someone flat-out doesn’t like us. (And young padawan, that’s completely cool.) Dealing with one’s own or others’ overt or hidden mental illnesses shadow and taint our own reflective and critical thinking capacities: if we’re worried how something we say or do may be misconstrued, work and flow become mired down and muddy. These ideas are intended to keep me on track, try to be the best teacher and colleague I can until the year’s over. (And then I can be a jerk again?)

start a blog

Disclaimer: I write for myself. If anything I say resonates with others, so be it. Writing is my therapy and helps my process and reflection. Think of it as advice columns for oneself.

How to Get to Summer In One Piece:

  1. Embrace the monster: if you see your inner demons taking up residence, acknowledge them, and ask them to hold tight until the end of June. Monsters and inner demons are notoriously impatient and guaranteed they will disappear by then.via GIPHY

2. Use your defense mechanisms wisely, or let them go entirely. You don’t need to shoot blood out of your eye or slime someone, as Sir Texas Horned Toad, or Lady Hagfish, you just need to make sure you’re not being a doormat or conceding or capitulating too quickly. Process and breathe. (Although that blood-eye thing would come in handy. What a cool writing prompt: what animal defensive mechanism super-power would you choose?)

Disarm with Cuteness! http://www.fws.gov
Disarm with Cuteness!
http://www.fws.gov

3. Watch something. Here are a few TED talks about stress, patience, and mindfulness. 

One of my dear friends told me years ago my life lesson would be ‘patience.’ Thinking back and realizing I most likely had ADD then, (and learned coping strategies on my own), this may have been well-intended advice but not exactly doable for me. Patience sometimes feels like unnecessary waiting, but there’s a difference between considering points of view waiting and waiting passively to be trampled on. If instincts create a flight/fight response, something might be up, spidey senses tingling and all that:t tap into that patience thing now.

bizarrocode

4. Or…Don’t be mindful: escape. Last night after a weird week with Bizarro-World events, I and my husband watched a movie or two, and I played with our puppy. Lovely.

IMG_1776
This was taken a few weeks ago, and I love the joy–

4. Play your way. Clearly if others are doing their best to drag you into their mind games, change the rules. Take your ball and go home. If this happens, you’re not being petulant or punitive, it’s really okay to go. Ever watch kids play a board game, and there’s that one kid who bosses everyone, changes the rules to suit the game-play, and flips the board if things aren’t going their way? It happens with adults, too, only much more subtly.

sore-loser-child-in-game

5. Be around people who love you, no matter what.

My boys and my mom from a past trip: trying to plan for a summer road trip as I type...
My boys and my mom from a past trip: trying to plan for a summer road trip as I type…

6. Look at something beautiful, create something beautiful.

tumblr_ntotwasPQ41qa53wno1_1280
Seriously: this exists!? I love our planet.

7. Take time to appreciate your moment in the universe.

If stress from colleagues is like a pebble in your shoe, stop and take out the pebble. If you’re working in a toxic environment, you may need other allies or support. It might not be your destiny to clean it but get out of the way so others can. And be honest: are you the one causing the stress? Or you contributing to the drama? Dang: are you the pebble?! Well, if you can honestly say you’re operating with integrity and attempting with every best effort to act with empathy and maintain dignity for yourself and others, then no. You’re the rock. (Get it?)

From Lifehacker:

She also advocates that you take the high road and never sacrifice your personal integrity in an attempt to get revenge or “fight fire with fire,” which we wholeheartedly agree with. She suggests you stay engaged at work too—noting that as long as you draw a paycheck you have an obligation to bring your best to your job every day. We’d temper that point a bit—if your work environment is toxic to the point where you feel awful every day, you’re already not bringing your A-game. Do what’s required, but don’t dump energy into a job that doesn’t appreciate your effort. Disengage a bit and spend that extra time and energy looking for something better, whether it’s a transfer to a new department or a new job entirely.

Personally, I love my job. I’m having a fantastic year: my students are doing amazing work, it’s a blast teaching Humanities, and we’re all thriving. My own confidence is bolstered from last year, where I, and others, were on the precipice of jumping from panic and not from pride. Reminding myself I am good at many things, still have a lot to learn, and some colleagues find my friendship and professional collaborations useful is valuable. It’s okay to own the good things about ourselves, even if others are actively trying to tear us down. We are on our own adventures, and everyone’s got stuff on their minds and weighing on their hearts.

Paulo Coehlho quote

 

I need to remind myself to be kind, be patient, and do good work, and see it through. My younger son is my focus now, and my students. Honoring their hard work and growth are my core beliefs, not a game.

And June is just around the corner.

summer

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Schooled.

comfortzone

Teachers complain about discuss the quality and quantity of professional development (PD) constantly: they seek for differentiation, wish it was more teacher-led as opposed to ‘sit and soak’ and other poor pedagogical methods, there’s no time for PD, there’s too much time taken up with PD, too hot, too cold, sun’s in my eyes, etc. We have instructional coaches, TOSAs, continuing credits, clock-hours (do other states have this concept?), team leaders, curriculum or department heads, district supervisors, outside resources; all manner of talent and authoritative voices providing a spectrum of instruction for the instructors.

But when teachers are given the opportunity to learn something new and they flat-out refuse to participate, what happens then?

Two examples came my way recently, (not naming names to protect the innocent, and not so innocent): in one district, the teachers work their daily shift and feel resentful when any professional development is offered (even with extra pay) off-hours. The district leader tried to bring a reading guru in for elementary school teachers, and the attendance was extremely poor. The second anecdote happened when a good friend tried to share an amazing lesson from a PSWP/NWP teacher/consultant. The morning of her share-out her allotted timeslot came after someone shared charts from Pinterest so they could track growth. The focus was simply tracking growth, no instruction. A huge component of teaching writing is showing and modeling to students a writing life, and how to craft this ‘writing life’ — which means–you write. The teachers wouldn’t write, huffed and puffed, and were as recalcitrant as many of their students.

What a shame.

Seriously.

Most of the teachers were so focused on the tracking of data they’ve lost complete sight about what good instruction is so they CAN GET THE GOOD DATA THEY WANT. Dang, did I just hit the all caps button–okay, okay– calm down. I’m fine. Deep breaths. Deeeeeep breaths…

I recently had the opportunity to share some solid, cross-curricular vocabulary instructional strategies with the staff (another reason I think my new admin rocks). I saw a need, asked my principal, and she green-lit my presentation. Now: timing. That’s the thing. It couldn’t be during a staff meeting because the necessary focus (and very useful and organized) needed for veterans and new staff trained for testing. This proved another opportunity for the veterans to share tips and knowledge about testing, so that was empowering. Since I wouldn’t have a (trapped) audience, I offered the staff two options: an afternoon session and a morning one. My principal sent out an email, too, and offered extra pay for those who attended. During the afternoon session, I had one colleague show up, but because it was just the two of us, we got a chance to explore further. The morning session an ELL paraeducator and a science teacher attended, and that also proved beneficial: the three staff members who attended clearly wanted to expand their knowledge, and the conversations were collaborative and we all learned from one another. They wanted to be there and took away vocabulary strategies for their content areas.

So what goes awry with PD? There may be multiple issues at play:

My friend and I were marveling at one of our mutual mentors, and how she calmly controls a room full of unruly teachers, gains their engagement and curiosity, and gives practical, real-time instructional powerhouses of lessons. I find that PD that I’ve paid for, planned for, etc., also holds more value than some of the sweeping, generalized PD I’ve received ‘for free.’

And just as the issues for ‘bad PD’ are complex, the solutions are as well. Let me rethink that: maybe not. Go through the issues list and when planning for PD, if you can reflectively and honestly respond to those PD pitfalls, you’ve most likely done a pretty good job of coming up with something that folks want. I have found I can lessen the ‘shoot the messenger’ pain when I’m honest with my colleagues. Be honest with the PD–treat your colleagues and staff with respect, don’t ‘talk down to’ or treat them like students, even if you think they’re ‘acting that way.’ It’s tough to grow mindsets when the soil is toxic.*

 

Nod to Laura Randazzo who created one of the vocabulary strategies.

Here’s a ‘how to’ Sparkol I created based on some lesson I saw somewhere -http://sho.co/17DRF

There’s No “I” in Teacher: 8 Tips for Collaborative Planning

Managing Conflict in School Leadership Teams

Are you a bad teacher?

*An example of toxic versus non-toxic:

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