Category: Being a better teacher

Field Notes: The Archetypes of Teaching

What are some of the archetypes we find in our buildings?
Matty the Shaman – my first character in World of Warcraft

I’ve now been in three buildings, and worked with dozens of colleagues, peers and administration. Often I approach a new or current situation from an anthropological stance, observing and gathering data. This maybe misguided–perhaps I should have taken a page out of an RPG, Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell. So, to that end, here is my field guide to teaching/educational archetypes. Note: all the descriptions come from my personal experiences in playing an RPG game, study of archetypes and how I see them applied.

Cleric/Priest: the cleric or priest uses light and shadow magic to both heal and harm/defend. They are often passive in their spells and actions, but working behind the scenes to make others feel safe and warm. These teaching archetypes often are the ones behind the Sunshine Committees, holiday treats, (think Secret Santas), and making sure cards are purchased and passed around for births, deaths, get well, etc. Sometimes, their shadow side takes over, and they send tendrils of whispers and negativity. But, their healing powers are strong, and they often bring food and community. Think Family and Consumer Science teacher who shares what the students cook, or organizes the potlucks.

Bard: the bard is the troubadour or music maker. Think young male teacher, who sings a lot about himself and his contributions, but often does nothing. (And gets eaten first.)

Dark/Death Knight: The Death Knight was once a good and chivalrous knight, but a dark force turned them against the powers of truth, and they worked diligently and painfully through redemption to use their powers for good once again.

Death knights utilize enchanted rune weapons that enhance their abilities and are powerful foes on the battlefield. Like warriors, they deal large amounts of physical damage and are capable of withstanding large amounts of damage to protect their allies. Death knights spread infections and diseases among their enemies, and use dark magics to heal themselves in battle. Born of the frozen north, death knights can command the frost in their veins to freeze the hearts and minds of their enemies, or even turn the ground beneath their feet to ice. By their very nature, death knights are resistant to magic, and have a number of abilities for defending against its use.

https://wow.gamepedia.com/Death_knight

We find our teacher Death Knights often as math teachers or administrators. It’s that ‘resistant to magic’ thing.

Momokawa, my Druid in WoW

Druid: druids are nature lovers, dwellers, shapeshifters: their dualities help them adapt to new situations, but this can result in never being truly settled. Their presence isn’t constant. Dissolution of the self is key. (Think of Gandalf–he’s far more druidic than mage/wizard.) Their concerns are global and public, so that their private concerns or individuality becomes almost nonexistent. These are the teachers that attract students to them in large groups (the critter spell). Science teachers who work well with Project-Based Learning and coordinating large field trips and school events, but have a tendency to take over the entire event. Don’t wait for them to delegate to you, just tell them what you will do.

Hunter/Ranger: hunters and rangers have many distinctions, but basically they walk around and kill things short and long range. Think of your curriculum guides and framework makers who can either kill the love of learning long-term or who can help bring down nasty bosses with their skills. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

Mage: mages are magic makers, spell casters, often working with fire, ice, or arcane magic. These are the teachers who always seem to know what combination of instructional techniques work best, but sometimes overkill the lesson, or struggle to build up enough energy. Mage teachers experience burnout quickly unless they find ways to boost and renew their energy from the healers.

Monk: monks bring peace and balance to a situation, but also know when to use their powers to knock something out. Think of the colleague who’s kind of there, sitting quietly, and then says the ONE thing that helps the group. They are not afraid of looking silly, and are humble. They have nothing to prove: they know when to feign weakness in order to achieve the goal.

Necromancer: think of the teacher who keeps bad ideas alive. Moving on.

Paladin: the zealot-warrior, using holy light and justice to seek their goals, usually for a larger cause or big idea. These are the ‘teach like a champion’ folks or those who continue to push PBIS without nuance or consideration, thinking that a program or package will solve any issue found in and out of a classroom. But these can also be the union leaders, building representatives, and colleague who stand beside you in times of trouble from bad-faith authorities. They use their powers to shield us in divine light of truth.

Rogue: these are the players who are assassins, stealthy, and do whatever it takes to get the job done, but this can manifest itself in a sneaky, undermining way. They switch allegiances as needed for their own survival, but can be useful in sharing of knowledge and finding courage to do something fresh and new. Thwarted by paladins, however, and these don’t align well.

Shaman: shamans are users and casters of elements and magic. These are the teachers that shake things up and calm situations down. Think of the school librarians/teachers and media specialists who know how to find just the right book or instructional tool for students. They are similar to monks in their ability to speak up when needed, but can be a bit more heavy-handed. When skilled, their elemental knowledge and combinations help create a welcoming classroom. While they’re learning and growing, will express that they feel weak, and need mentoring and support, maybe more than other new teachers. But their strength comes from combining resources from interdisciplinary content/elements. These are often instructional coaches or enjoy having student teachers in their classrooms.

Sorcerer/Wizard: sorcerers and wizards, like mages, warlocks, and blood mages, also spell-cast, using tomes, spells, recipes and a variety of rare and plentiful resources to create what they need. These are the teachers who can spin gold from straw–think of beautiful bulletin boards, displays, plays/costumes and the magic makers for the building.

Warlock/Blood Mage: warlocks and blood mages use blood magic, demons, and some nefarious, often unsavory, methods to get what they want. Spell casters and imp masters, these teachers might be found in English/Language arts or History classes and are unafraid of teaching truth, critical thinking skills, and can lead students to higher understandings of history and literature that go far beyond the textbook. Their downside or caution is if they use others in manipulative ways for their own benefit, causing distrust, discord and discomfort among staff members. At their worst, these are the teachers who think nothing of keeping kids in for recess.

Warrior: warriors are brave, courageous and skilled in battle. However, they can go into berserker or blood rage mode indiscriminately killing both foes and allies alike. Warriors make energetic PE teachers, coaches, and math teachers.

Last year, I experienced a strange thing. My “archetype” was already there, too–my friend will know I’m referring to her. She’s fun, accepting, vulnerable and funny. My principal last year LOVED her. I am the same, but much, much older. My principal last year HATED me. We (my friend and I) commented on it, how much we are alike, but got very different reactions from the principal. I wondered, and still do, if there is only room for one archetype in a building? That role as already been cast? Perhaps in some cases, yes. Some teachers and administrators lack the imagination and leadership to welcome a variety of personalities into the community, and become territorial. But perhaps those people need to play Dungeons and Dragons or World of Warcraft for a few months.

https://www.kqed.org/mindshift/51790/how-dungeons-dragons-primes-students-for-interdisciplinary-learning-including-stem

This is far short of an exhaustive list. None of us are “one” thing: for example, I see my teaching style as both paladin/shaman, with a touch of rogue. In our own narratives, we see ourselves as the hero, but perhaps we need to see one another more as a guild and cooperative team, working together. Sharing our gifts makes us stronger, and being honest about our weaknesses is even better, because when we work together to counterbalance we create a healthy environment for ourselves and students.

Resources:

https://www.mmo-champion.com/threads/2375122-The-Standard-List-of-RPG-Archetypes

https://aonprd.com/Archetypes.aspx?Class=Cleric

https://wow.gamepedia.com/Death_knight

https://atomic-temporary-127056043.wpcomstaging.com/2017/04/22/lessons-of-azeroth/

Teacher Tips and Tricks

There are some things “they” don’t teach in “teacher school” and ya know…”they” should. Based on inspiration from @MrsHallScholars and @peachsandgrades, I thought a quick post about putting together classrooms might be helpful. No, I’m not talking “Pinterest-Ready Rooms” (mine is far from that) but just some hacks if you want to do some things for students.

PLEASE: If you have any tips or tricks I didn’t mention, please post a comment or on Twitter! @mrskellylove

Things to make:

  1. Making big posters
  2. Making anchor charts
  3. Bulletin boards

Hardware:

Put these items in your tool kit:

  • X-acto blade and extra blades
  • High quality paper cutter (and store away from students)
  • Yardstick
  • Poster board, poster paper, butcher paper
  • High quality stapler
  • Staple remover (the flat kind)
  • Packing tape (works better than painter’s or masking tape)
  • Big Sharpies
  • Color markers
  • Yarn
  • Fishline (if you want to hang lanterns, etc. from the ceiling)
  • Cup hooks/wall hooks

Projector method:

Mrs. Hall mentioned how she does big posters for her room, and this is a great way to make a large graphic or anchor chart:

1. Found an image
2. Trace and color in (for this I outlined first, colored in the grey feathers and then did the rest)
3. Completed image

For things like bulletin boards, I use a piece of long string to make sure the tape, etc., are level first. The X-Acto knife comes in handy for cutting precise edges to the edge of the bulletin board, and you don’t need to buy expensive borders, etc.

Miscellaneous:

This was a gift a teacher made for me last year: 3-D printed bathroom pass!
For taping, etc. the string helps for large areas. Also, laminate signs you use again and again.

Gamed.

(We shall return to some other posts on writing, writing workshop, etc. soon.)

I have a guilty…well, wouldn’t exactly call it ‘pleasure’…past time, hobby, compulsive process addition, and play a Blizzard game called Hearthstone. It’s a card game based on the archetypal characters in World of Warcraft. It is a value-added app, meaning it’s ‘free’ to those who subscribe to WoW, I think. Maybe. Maybe it’s a a free app. Okay, it is. Yeah. And it makes money from micro-transactions of buying card packs, but one can also earn points and trade those points in for cards, disenchant them, and add to deck sets. I’ve been playing it longer than I care to admit; oftentimes while watching TV, etc.

And I never get any better.

Ranked Level 17 is about as good as I get.

In truth, I hate this game. And yet because I am a process addict, I struggle to stop playing. Process addictions are different from chemical ones–they include gambling, gaming, food (which I think is a chemical one), etc. The reasons for my self-loathing and repugnance of this game strike me as perhaps why many students also feel self-loathing and hatred toward their school days. The power/odds resides in the house, and the house always cheats:

  • The cycle is a month: from the 1st to the 30/31 you build up your rank. If you fall down a rank, and it’s on the last day of the month, you start off at a lower rank on the 1st. For example, I ended at Rank 17 this month, and I started at Rank 21 today.
  • If you lose a game, you lose a star. You have three stars per rank. If you have a winning streak, you can bump to the next level. If you lose a single game, you can get bumped down to the lower level.
  • You can build your decks, study strategies, but have no control how to organize the cards you receive, except like poker, throw away three and get three replacements.
  • If you play a “dungeon run” if you lose one game you have to start all over again. Looking at you, Rastakhan’s Rumble.
  • There are daily quests, and if you lose those games, your ranking goes down.
I’m not really a good sport. My Avatar is, though.

At the beginning of every game, I immediately “squelch” the opposing player. I don’t want to hear the taunts, jeers, or smarmy “Well Played!” How do I know it’s smarmy? I just do.

Ah, what if we could mute naysayers and mean people?

The parallels with how students might feel during their year in the classroom: it never feels like one is ‘moving up’ and it’s three stars forward and four stars back. A loss is not simply a ‘learn and growth mindset’ fix, because the system is rigged. Even if I studied strategies, the cards fall where they will, and I don’t receive any benefit or boost from my study of skills and strategies. I’m surprised if I make it to Level 17. With each character/avatar, if you win 500 games you receive a golden portrait. Whoop-dee-doo. So like many things in school: all show, no substance.

If students could identify this same feeling, this Sisyphean futility of grinding away at something that doesn’t progress or feel satisfying, is this what they perceive when we teachers tell them they should be life long learners? Maybe I’m writing this post too soon, because I haven’t quite figured out my thesis: perhaps just to focus and find a way for students next year to acknowledge their experiences and how they feel the system has been rigged against their growth, success, and defining what ‘winning’ is for them:

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And this cannot, must not, be ignored: call out any teacher who uses gamification for harm:

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The truth is I don’t want to put any more energy or study into progressing up the ranks in that stupid game. Maybe that’s how students feel, too, when they walk into a new school year. And when I think about how I structure and support my students, will give more notice to the impact of their days. Are they starting the day already defeated? Hopeless? Finding and defining what is important to me and my beliefs is as human as it gets–and definitely use Trevor Aleo’s ideas about content/curriculum – find our ikigai.

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Feed kids.

Why can’t we simply feed kids?

Within this past summer, I learned that Abraham Maslow’s work is based (derived/stolen) the Blackfoot Nation work. It’s funny because this blog post was written in 2014. Five years to learn about this?

From https://sa-exchange.ca/the-blackfoot-maslow-connection/

At a conference last week of the National Indian Child Welfare Association, I learned that Abraham Maslow, one of the founders of humanistic psychology, borrowed generously from the Blackfoot people to refine his motivational theory on the hierarchy of needs.
Briefly, Maslow’s theory suggests that humans are motivated to fulfill first the most basic of needs, such as food, clothing and shelter. Once those needs are met, they move on to the need for safety and security. The needs become progressive, advancing to love and intimacy and then self-esteem before reaching self-actualization. The highest level is where humans are self-aware and grow to achieve their individual potential.
“This is a rip-off from the Blackfoot nation,” University of Alberta professor Cindy Blackstock told her workshop audience on Wednesday.

https://lincolnmichel.wordpress.com/2014/04/19/maslows-hierarchy-connected-to-blackfoot-beliefs/

I am going to fumble my way through this, and welcome any corrections to my understanding of this philosophical shift: the group puts everyone’s sense of belonging to the community first, the foundation for the group, and then all other needs grow, reach to the sky, forever, from this. And in practical, pragmatic sense, this is true. We must recognize each other as here, life and living, and the food, water, air, shelter, love, grow from this foundation. Our individual potential comes first.

Let’s consider food: we all need to eat. Schools are filled with children, 18 and under, who do not have access to jobs, money, income, and are at the mercy of the compulsory educational system which demands their presence and attendance.

That should be the foundation of the culture of schools.

And then, in our country, we don’t feed them?

We shame. We deny. We judge. We withhold. We mock. We yell. We violate. But we do not simply feed them.

Oh, and if someone like Michelle Obama suggests that fresh fruits and vegetables be added to students’ choices, she’s disparaged through racism and evangelical evils. Because according to Trump-supporting evangelicals, only the wealthy deserve what they have. To be poor is a sin. And since Maslow altered his diagram for Westernized consumption, we have even failed at this. We don’t provide basic human needs. We don’t have clean water in our schools. Or food (unless you’ve filled out a tangle of bureaucratic paperwork and put on public record that you need assistance). We don’t have safe shelters. Look at the crumbling buildings many students attend every day. Self-actualized? It is all making sense now. We don’t want students to become self-actualized. And I say “we” because until every educators’ voice is speaking out and up, and pushing for legislation to change this, nothing will change.

Just feed kids.

Follow up to this story: https://www.cnn.com/2019/07/25/us/pennsylvania-lunch-debt-furor-apology/index.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2019/07/26/our-school-lunch-problem-is-microcosm-whats-wrong-with-american-life/?utm_term=.8ba2156e155d

Featured image from: https://recipes.howstuffworks.com/menus/who-decides-lunch-plans.htm

being human

We are failing at helping all children.

There must be six other drafts of writing on my mind, and yet this pushed its way up front, with force and weight. A few questions on Twitter started my brain thinking, such as what was the suspension rate at school, etc. This past year the suspension rate was next to nothing, because, well, suspensions didn’t exist unless the student was caught with drugs, weapons, or one who was unlucky enough to get caught pulling the fire alarm. (I say unlucky because we had about a dozen false alarms last year, and he was the only one I know of who was caught and suspended.)

There was no ISS room, lunch detentions were a party held on the cafeteria stage, and our restorative justice leader/teacher and room was dismantled (she went to another building) halfway through the year. There was one counselor, and two special ed teachers for three grades, and a rotating list of support staff, one quitting or being let go after the other. There were several fights, many ending up with injuries, and the parties involved would be back at school the next day. It wasn’t that big of a deal, except often they were in the same classes, and other students would be bewildered that “nothing happened.” I had my own struggles with relationship building, classroom management, and physical and verbal abuse issues this year. When I initiated parent contact, conversations were well received and support helped the student. But many parents are overwhelmed with life (as was I–our family was in crisis mode), so finding the willingness and ability to stay calm, mindful, and patient was a huge challenge. One I personally failed at. And that cycle of failure, of not being who I know I can be, is a self-grudge.

Suspensions don’t work. And I’m not sure Restorative Justice does either, but that’s because I’ve never seen it in practice. ISS rooms “can” work if, and this is a big, big IF, there is a support person in there who’s mature, loving, firm, and sees the children. But the ISS rooms in the video are cinderblock basements, with cracked floors and locked doors. Horrifying. In an Edweek article by Allison Fried, “If You Won’t Do Restorative Justice Right, Don’t Do It” the essential message is:

Clayton County has been successful because it has set itself up for success. If Denver, and other districts, are to truly advocate for restorative justice, they must go all in. We need a comprehensive set of policies to help eliminate the school-to-prison pipeline. Students need firm boundaries at school, consistent positive and negative consequences, spaces to reflect, and trusted and trained adults who can help them to process trauma, emotional responses, and typical adolescent rebellion.
Restorative justice programming should also involve strategic use of all the local resources available to schools. Denver, for example, with its access to the outdoors, and numerous youth organizations and cultural centers, can take advantage of community partnerships to enrich a restorative justice program. Finally, districts must put their money where their mouth is, through a dedicated application of funds for professional development, increased hiring of social workers and psychologists, and strategic programming.
To me, that sounds a lot more promising than a few peace circles.

If You Want Do Restorative Justice Right, Don’t Do It

My dad got “in trouble” a lot. He’s almost 79 years old (this month) and to this day remembers the name of the teacher who told him he might wind up in jail. I, too, was sent outside in the hallway or in the corner for talking, from kindergarten through second grade. (We moved from a Texas school to an open concept one in Illinois…) Being sent to the corner is humiliating, and being outside to the hallway only less so. What did I learn? That my intelligence and language skills were shameful. My younger son is ADD and over his school years just that “simple” issue became one I fought and advocated for his academic rights. (Nothing like being a teacher-momma and knowing how the sausage is made, so to speak.) But these low-level noncompliance issues are/were not our fault. We three share an exuberance for creativity, ideas, and have great senses of humor. We also share addictive behaviors, lack of focus, and misunderstood ambitions. But we did not have other learning issues, racism, ACEs, and the legion of other issues that face children.

But many of my students do. And for that reason, I have a responsibility to not wait for someone else to do anything– (not much one for waiting anyway, a bonus of ADD). Here are some resources for us all to be better at inclusion, all kinds of needs, and helping our students:

IEP Navigator

@MoniseLSeward shares an amazing Facebook group called the IEP Navigator:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/451220092312416/

Inclusive teaching strategies

http://www.washington.edu/teaching/teaching-resources/inclusive-teaching-at-uw/inclusive-teaching-strategies/

Lives in the balance

https://livesinthebalance.org/

And:

Next time.

Need to jot down a few reminders.

I tried.

A writer’s work is never done. Can’t make any promises that this is the last and final reflective ‘closure’ post.

Before I dive into the organizing, exercising, fantasizing, and socializing this summer break, a few notes about the end of the school year. (Yes, I’m going to a new school/position, am hopeful and pragmatically optimistic.)

  • Relationships: we teachers are told to build ‘relationships’ in such a ubiquitous manner the practice becomes distorted. What we adults don’t say, but may assume, is that relationships are not linear, but orbital. During the last big awards assembly of the year, one with parents, siblings, relatives, etc., one of my students was asked to give the student speech. I had no idea. If I had known, I know…I KNOW…I would have told him he’d be great, he could practice with me, I’d give him some public speaking tips. He is a great storyteller. I told him he should start a podcast or Youtube channel with his stories. Are they all “school appropriate?” No. But this is his writing and his work. Instead, he disappeared from the building right before the speech. I never got to ask him why, or say it was okay, or give him a side-hug and tell him he’s going to be okay. And when I say this next thing it is not a criticism, but hindsight: I wish the admin would have told me, his ELA/SS teacher, he was giving the speech. She’s the one who chose him. I’m sure she believed she was raising his status, giving him a chance to shine, etc., and all that is true. What is also true is I knew him well, and could have helped support his jitters and reinforced and bolstered him. Lesson learned? Work with admin to support students outside of class hours, and demand admin work with staff. Seems like a no-brainer? Something I won’t take for granted again.
  • Clutter: my classroom had too much. It did. I admit it. When I took it all down and moved it, I thought to myself, “Ya know…maybe there’s something to just focusing on color, lighting and books.” Next time.
  • Time well spent: keep the fast finisher idea bins stocked and ready. Just — do this. DO THIS.
  • Be healthy: no more excuses. Be cool. Be calm. Stress (personal and professional) took a heavy toll on my body this year. I gained too much weight, my arthritis really #$!!! hurts, and I am way too cute to not feel my best. Some issues that plagued me for over a year are somewhat resolved, I am moving on, and now I have a few weeks to reset my biology and spirit.

Oh, and the picture? Notebooks once again that went in recycling. I put together (with their help) lists of things to do over the summer (free/creative), a list of “ready for high school,” and their folders of work. Every year I swear to use notebooks more intentionally, and this next year I’ll get my wish and way.

Now to tackle one mountain of mess in my house at a time.

The little dog stays.

P.S. Also: note to self. MAKE SURE TO CALL THE PARENT OF THE CHILD YOU’RE GIVING AN AWARD TO.

A Year of Adequately Awesome

A huge thank you to Mrs. Hall for this amazing idea:

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36 listed accomplishments of @BaltCitySchools youth on the posters I am sitting in front of… 36. #TeamCitySchools #StayFocused pic.twitter.com/VV94qgLnBg— Mrs. Hall (@MrsHallScholars) May 17, 2019

Mrs. Hall seems to have the right words/right time gift: looking at the aggregate of my year, I am disappointed in myself for a few failings, not doing enough, running out of time, not fixing every issue–but I will not be defeated by a deficit mindset. On a huge visual, I will show what we have done this year. Stay tuned.

…the truth is

The cast of characters

This week I am on a rare trip: my in-laws took me and my husband to Hawaii. My husband and I went on our honeymoon 26+ years ago to Maui, and haven’t had a trip since. We’ve been to visit relatives in California and Texas, but for big, magical trips, this is it. I have more to say about this trip, and I know I wrote a poem in my sleep about monk seals, and hope I can capture it from the ethereal realms.

I am worried about my students this week. My husband told me not to, but I am. Friday we had a emotional day. It wasn’t planned. It just was. Perhaps I was feeling the pressure of my current principal and her observations. I haven’t been brave enough to check the PIVOT system to read her evaluation notes from Thursday. We’re working on communication.

So between Thursday and Friday, spring break came in hot and with tears. We all needed a break.

Thursday I planned skits for both TKAM and THUG. First period scholars did a breathtaking job: I put them in groups of 3-4, random count—off and then quick readjustments. They were flexible and marvelous, and except for one girl, didn’t complain about the group they ended up in; and, even the one girl did one of the best performances as the “Tree With A Knothole” and used her hoodie pockets for gum and toys. They rocked it. Not only did they do an amazing job with the TKAM skit strips, they came ALIVE with THUG—we developed a quick list of scenes from the book/movie and the performances were epic. Angie Thomas: thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Fast forward to 5/6th period. My principal came in during 5th and we were trying something new, for them, the Interview a Photograph writing from my NWP/PSWP days (Kim Norton/Holly Stein). The second period scholars (who are the same as first period) did great. Fifth period, not so much. And this is the first time in six…seven years (?) that students didn’t thrive during this writing. I don’t know why, but I was frustrated. The kids in that room struggle getting out of their own way. And being observed two days before break made me a little nervous, too, I think, because the inner voice of teacher doubt crept in to an activity I know is tried and true. Would my principal see it? The other day she hadn’t heard of CERs and said no one else had heard of them either, so it’s hard to have conversations and share when there isn’t a common academic language.

We moved toward sixth, and I asked her to stay so she could see the kids perform the skits. Again, 1/2 periods share common students, and so do 5/6, with the exception of a few kids. Sixth tried, and what was interesting is for the loudest, brashest, and quite frankly bluntest group, when it came to performances sudden and accute stage fright.

Interesting.

At least my principal stayed, and I hope that she saw what I did: that students were trying. They were engaged. And that I care for them deeply.

When we moved to Friday, I shared some simple writing prompts I saw on @jarredamato’s twitter feed:

The truth is…

Due to a funky Friday schedule, I saw my sixth period students first thing in the morning. And I shared a few thoughts. A few angry thoughts, and frustrated thoughts, and worried thoughts. I told them to be aware of their surroundings, to notice when a principal is in the room, and I know how much pressure they’re under. One of my most interesting students spontaneously shared a soliloquy that my only regret is that I didn’t capture it on film. He spoke truth, big truth.

And first period students wrote. I told them they didn’t have to share. I respected their privacy as writers.

And in the next moment, five to six students ripped out their pages and handed them to me to read out loud.

I can’t share what they wrote. We were all in tears. Pages of pain, grief, loss, fear, inadequacy, and shame. Our children are in pain.

Final wish: the truth is, principals are feeling the pressure of districts, districts are terrified of Devos, and teachers are terrified of principals and all that fear points at children.

Enough.

We are going to have to be stronger than ever, louder than before, and keep fighting for what is right for our children. How? Speak the truth. It’s all we’ve got.

Fist-bump currency

Grit. High-leverage. Warm demander. Relationship building. All of these words have begun to get as stale as a piece of Juicy Fruit. And it’s time to reevaluate our use of them, and take a long, honest look at our practice. One thing I’ve learned this year is that I am not as wonderful as I thought I was, or that past students have told me. Or colleagues. One person’s opinion can upset years of professional dedication. So, before I go too far into an unhealthy path of projection, I will speak for myself, and share what others think, too. The big questions are when do we get it right, and when we don’t, how do we fix it?

Novice teachers sometimes equate relationships with “the kids like me.” And yes, it’s true that we can’t learn from people we don’t like. It takes a mountain of maturity and self-actualization to respect/ignore/tolerate others who deride or dehumanize us. And a grand nirvana-level mastery of self-control to learn from others. But everyone can teach us something. The universe doesn’t have a plan, and all we get out of interactions is what we can and can’t control. And most students are not there yet. Most adults aren’t either.

Students want a teacher to like them, but guaranteed most of them would choose someone who’s strict and firm, and doesn’t allow for big theatrical displays of misbehavior in the classroom. And this is where it gets tricky. I don’t “allow” for these levels of misbehavior, but once I’ve exhausted my own treasure trove of tricks, contacted parents, sought out admin’s support, etc., if a student still hops on a chair and spins around, and knows there will be no consequence except for their teacher “getting in trouble” then the relationship becomes one of mistrust. Words matter, and deeds matter more.

via GIPHY

I have raised two sons. They love me, and I love them. I haven’t always liked them, nor they to me. And relationships with other humans is nuanced, complicated, and changing. This notion that if we simply ‘built a relationship’ with our students somehow everything will change, and no discipline issues will arise ever again, and we’ll all get “Distinguished” on classroom culture and Mary Poppins can go to a new house because our house is clean.

It doesn’t take having one’s own children to know how relationships work between teachers and students. My point of bringing it up is to underscore how complicated these relationships can be. Students bring a lot of modeled behavior in our classrooms: parents who abuse one another or them, drug addiction, neglect, passive-aggressive means of communication, depression, and other forms of trauma. And this is a reminder to myself of what works, when applied consistently and gently:

  • High expectations and an explicitly voiced belief they can meet them
  • Explicitly voices belief that who they are in this moment is not their whole life or self: they will grow and mature
  • What they are learning today has relevance and purpose
  • They are creative, funny, and intelligent, and loved.

And most of all: self-respect.

“Character — the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life — is the source from which self-respect springs.” 
― Joan Didion, On Self-Respect

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“Our feelings are our most genuine paths to knowledge.” 
― Audre Lorde

My friend John Spencer recently explored and wrote a wonderful piece about the “superhero” culture of teaching. It’s targeted toward new teachers, but his advice and insight are valuable for us veterans, too. I’ll pick up the conversation at that point–some advice for us more seasoned teachers.

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Although, if I think about it, I am not a good source for advice on this topic. Currently, my stress and worry levels have maintained a steady red-zone cortisol bubbling brew in my brain.

Justin Minkel recently wrote an article for EdWeek: Finding the Courage to Teach Past the Fear of ‘Getting in Trouble’–and it shook me.

And the recurring advice I’ve received over my 13 years is ‘shut the door, teach, get to know your students, and do what’s best for them.’ All that is true. But something else is true: when you do shut the door, take note of what is going on–be your own observer. Walk into your classroom with fresh eyes. Sit in the seats where your students sit. Work next to them. What is it like to be a student in that room? Ask them.

“A lot hinges on the fact that, in most circumstances, people are not allowed to hit you with a mallet. They put up all kinds of visible and invisible signs that say, ‘Do not do this,’ in the hope that it’ll work, but if it doesn’t, then they shrug, because there is, really, no real mallet at all.” —Terry Pratchett, Unseen Academicals
I have always been a teacher who fears the mallet. I worry about “getting in trouble,” a phrase that seems more appropriate for children than adults, which I nevertheless hear from fellow teachers with alarming frequency.
Seventeen years since I started teaching, I still get nervous when my principal walks into my room with a clipboard or laptop for an unscheduled observation.
Why?
I love my principal. I know she’s not out to get me. Yet the anxiety—sweaty palms, a tight throat, a sudden awareness of how incredibly messy my classroom is—has not faded with time.



I, too, get nervous when admin comes in the room. I’m sure she’s not out to get me, either, no more than any teacher, but her first priorities, as they should be, are that all students are learning. And what ‘learning’ might look like to one educator versus another is critical to objective conservations. Admin come from a wide variety of teaching and instructional experiences, and even if they spent years in a classroom will still come to other teachers’ classroom with bias and judgment. Because they are…wait for it…human. As is everyone in that room. The teacher. The student. Everyone. Some things get checked on the clipboard, and some things do not.

Oh–and the self-care thing? The hardest thing about that is to not let another’s mallet beat your spirit. I have witnessed young teachers say “I don’t want to get in trouble.” Heard them break down in anxious tears. And for some of my younger colleagues, I have become a cautionary tale–that when you get older, it won’t matter how much growth on test scores your students have gained: if admin doesn’t “like you,” you’re out. Painfully, heartbreakingly, in a long-protracted battle.

Let’s find out what happens.
Will we get fired? Will we get a written reprimand that goes on our permanent record? Will we get the stink-eye from our principal for the rest of the year?
Or will we keep our jobs, because the teacher shortage is real, and it’s really real in high-poverty schools? Will it turn out there is no permanent record, and even if there were, nobody “above” us in the hierarchy has the time or inclination to write up that reprimand? Will we find unlikely allies, including administrators who prove their own courage and commitment to the children in our care?

Yes, actually. You might get fired. The teacher shortage is real but not: districts don’t want to pay the salary scale for veteran teachers. It’s all about the money. But it feels personal and raw. Being on a provisional contract this year is more terrifying than I could have ever imagined. With the information I had, I based my decision to change districts; I’m an NBCT, National Writing Project Fellow, WABS/STEM Fellow, provided PD for colleagues, multiple attendances for the NCTA, and am currently attending Mentor Academy for teaching mentorship. None of that matters if my learning targets aren’t properly worded. But heck, if even Tom Rademacher can be let go, who am I?And his post on keeping good teachers is spot on.

A few weeks ago, I was informed that even if I hit Distinguished in all categories, I could be non-renewed. At that point, what is the point? Do I just give up? Of course not. Being a teacher, to me, is a sacred duty. It’s my Night’s Watch vow. And most days, I love it, and some days I don’t. Both moments require reflection: this is key. Reflect on when things go right as often as when they don’t.

Self-care requires mindfulness:

Keep in mind: everyone has an agenda and mission. Take a moment and clarify, write down, what you think the mission statements are: your admin’s, colleagues, students, parents, and yourself. And then check in with each stakeholder and see how close you are, and adjust.

  1. Seek clarity from admin if you truly do not understand what they are requiring from you. It’s their role to be clear, objective and precise and offer instructional support. That’s their job.
  2. Seek clarity and feedback from your students, and make transparent and public. Middle school kids can be downright mean and if you have a disgruntled student (thinking of one right now) who whispers and derides you (your age, clothing, mistakes, etc.) call it out in a future moment and make general. Use it as a teachable moment.
  3. Seek clarity from your colleagues: if you participate in a functioning, supportive PLC, include 20-second celebrations. Ask them for advice and insight: what are they seeing, or not seeing, where you might have a blindspot? If your PLC is not functioning or safe, seek out a network on social media.

Most importantly: remember your ‘why’–it is a beautiful and inspiring why. Our “why’s” are our heartbeats–not just our teacher selves, but our whole selves. What we do and believe for ourselves, our families, friends, and then our work.