Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Same Destination, Different Journeys


(Thank you to my co-contributor, friend, and colleague, Valerie Wilhite)


It has happened more than once. That awkward moment when you realize you are wearing the same “teacher outfit” as one of your colleagues. I guess great minds think alike is a better way to spin it?


Well, yesterday it happened. Walking into our weekly department meeting, I spot her. Mrs. Wilhite, donning the same fashionable, yet conservative teacher dress.


We look amazing.



After school that day, I thought hard about teacher “sameness”. In some schools of thought there is a push for scripted curriculum, or the idea that good teaching looks like every 10th grade English teacher is teaching the same page at the same time on the same day. I sat down with Mrs. Wilhite and we reflected on the concept of “sameness."


The push for standardization may be detrimental to creative thinking.

Most schools are made up of many dynamic educators. They have varied strengths, come from different prep institutions, and bring with them their unique histories. Why does the default setting tend to move toward  molding them into one type of teacher? This is not to argue the merits of shared planning, or departmental continuity, but to dispel the expectation that there is only one way to write a lesson plan or only one way to assess students. There is often backlash when someone questions “the way it’s always been done.” How do we find the happy medium between teacher autonomy, the educator as creator, and scripted curriculum?

The danger of sameness is that there is no opportunity to think outside of the box.  If we are to teach our kids to think for themselves or to think creatively, how can we model that if  we are urged to become one voice, merely regurgitating information from a script? For some, the allure of teaching is the challenge, the creativity and the opportunity to breathe life into academia for a new generation of thinkers.  The challenge is how to teach a subject, even one that is not beloved by all, in a way that at least piques their interest.  The creativity is taking the content, twisting it, turning it, and then coming up with a way to present it that encourages students to make connections.  Canned curriculum can be stale and contrived.  Even if delivered by a dynamic educator, we may be risking the opportunity to reach a difficult learner or engage a student, by “sticking to the script.”

Teaching another person’s materials without making tweaks and additions can feel fraudulent. Mrs. Wilhite adds, “ Last year when I tried to align my lessons to the other teachers in my grade level, I had an existential crisis and considered quitting teaching.  I felt like I didn’t belong, like I had found myself trapped in someone else’s life.  I mean, really, I totally understood the Freaky Friday feeling. Sameness does not evoke passion.  Kids can see it when we are not passionate about what we’re teaching.  There’s no buy-in when they can tell that their teacher is just going through the motions.”


“Iteration is key to innovation”-Sebastian Thrun

Collaboration and iteration of lessons and materials is essential in this profession. Making accommodations, differentiating, and meeting students where they are the cornerstones of being an effective educator. These practices allow educators to take a novel- The Scarlet Letter,for example- and teach it one year with the parallel to bullying and social stigma, and then teach it the next year with a focus on brand names and social Darwinism. We, as educators, spend day in and day out with the people in our classrooms, and have to make adjustments to not only fit their needs, but to democratically give them their right to learn.

My students in 3rd period may not be ready to progress to chapter 4 of Hawthorne’s novel. We may need time to germinate our understanding of Hester’s plight. We may need to review symbolism, and social norms, and Puritan ideology, before jumping into the next section. Mrs. Wilhite, however, may have students who came with prior knowledge that mine lack, or she may have students who study American literary periods for fun. Whatever the case, they may breeze through multiple chapters in a class period, while I am remediating the definition of figurative language. This in no way makes the students any less deserving of loving and understanding foundational literature. What a disservice if I deflect their questions for the sake of “being on chapter 5." Mrs. Wilhite and I know the power of vertical and horizontal alignment, yet understand the dangers of blindly following a plan.

Effective educators are often reinventing themselves.

We have been not only through multiple iterations of strategies and best practices, but iterations of ourselves as educators. We understand and cherish the opportunity to bring our unique perspectives into the classroom, and to reach our students in the best ways that we can.

Though we may wear the same dress or cardigan from time to time, and though we may share many of the same philosophies, I am glad that our sameness ends with our passion and fashion. This allows our students  to get a genuine, quirky, madly creative teacher who creates and inspires, and remediates in her own genuine, quirky, madly creative way.

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Hope Springs Eternal

Twelve days ago, I took my 10th trip to Washington, D.C. Over the years, my
reasons for visiting the Nation's Capital have varied: a giant 2-day concert at RFK
Stadium, Congressional visits on behalf of education, working at the U.S. Department
of Education. This particular trip was one of those "Day on the Hill"  kind of trips, but
there was something unique that occurred this time. Though the direct flight from my
hometown to DCA was familiar, there was a noticeable absence of hustle & bustle on this
visit. Bundled in my winter attire, I had time to wander with purpose around
Washington.


Every time I have visited D.C., I've been part of a group, with my family, or with my colleagues.
This time, I was mostly on my own, save a few hours a day. My time spent  mentally cataloging
the architecture, mindfully taking in the history I was surrounded by,  and reflecting on my role
as an educator and advocate, allowed me to really digest my purpose for being there. I may have
flown to D.C. to attend an educational policy conference, but my flight home was focused on
maximizing my efforts for the betterment of education.


As I inhaled the smell of books from inside the Library of Congress, wept at the
instillations at the National Museum of African American History and Culture,
pondered the history of feminism at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, and
simply took in the history and stories behind monuments and buildings around D.C.,
I felt like despite the social climate of right now, there was hope.


I assigned a theme to my four day adventure: the power of bringing people together to
create positive change. Be it in an office, on a hill, in the name of justice and freedom,
or to support one another, being together is powerful.  The optimist in me looked at this
trip as part of a hopeful future. More people coming together to affect change; less people
coming together to tear things apart.


Upon returning home, I was newly inspired to elevate the voices of my students and my
colleagues. To integrate literature, art, and opportunities into my curriculum that would act
as catalysts for rich discussion, and reasons to come together as a community. This has
always been a mission of mine, but this trip just seemed to strengthen my resolve to amplify
my efforts.


Five days later, there was another school shooting. Another. My students were supposed
to be heading into a five day weekend, one filled with too much sugar, a chance to go to the
movies or binge watch Netflix. Instead, they went home wondering why this had to happen
again.


I, too, spent my weekend wondering why this was becoming something that happens so
often. Saturday night's dinner with my husband, also an educator, and our two children,
was focused on asking them to recount their last hard lockdown. Did they know where
closets and cabinets were in their classrooms? What would they do if they were in a hallway
or the restroom during an emergency? We answered questions, tried to alleviate fears, and
more than anything, tried to instill a sense of peace in our children's lives.


Tomorrow, I will face 116 high school students. I will try to instill a sense of peace in their
lives as well. They are still adjusting to the aftermath of the October 1st mass shooting that
happened here at home--Las Vegas. I can only image, as unaffected as some of them may
seem, that they are afraid. For many of them,  school is their home, one of the only places
that they feel safe. I never want that feeling to go away.


Now I, along with countless other educators are faced with options. What do we do, as
individuals and collectively, to rebuild a sense of hope in our classrooms and in our own
homes? There is no one size fits all answer, but if I know anything, I know that my fellow
educators are mobilizing, writing letters, making calls, engineering plans to make our
schools and our world safer places.


More people coming together to affect change; less people coming together to tear things
apart. There is power and hope in bringing people together to affect positive change.
Teachers, students, parents, advocates, friends, and neighbors coming together to make
sure that our legacy is one we can be proud of. One that leaves an imprint on history, even
if tiny, that says,"We wanted change, and we made it happen."


I want my students and my own children to be able to see people standing together in
solidarity to make their futures safer, more accepting, and more loving. I need them to
know that their school days are about poetry, equations, science, and building relationships,
not  about dissecting the room for places to hide from gun fire.


This teacher's journey is positioned on an ever winding road, and I have just taken the fork
towards activism. What may have looked to any outsider, as a lone woman from the desert
wandering around in the blistering cold of Washington D.C., was really a new beginning.


Though my hands may ache from the letters I will write, and my voice may shake from the
words I must shout, I will do what I can to be part of the change. Our kids, my kids, we,
are all worth it.


#thisteachersjourney

My 2 kiddos, at peace.