In a moment of procrastinating I was playing around with the comment page and I realized that I have tons of unpublished comments from as far back as 2013. Some were spam, but others were meaningful, thoughtful comments that I'd never read before. I didn't mean to not publish any of your comments- for whatever reason I never saw them.
If you commented and never saw it appear on the site please don't take it personally- I'll try to be better about checking the actual blog for comments waiting moderation instead of just relying on my email notifications.
Thank you for sharing all your thoughtful insights with me!
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
Where Does the Introverted Teacher Fit? Reflections on my journey in a Professional Learning Community
Professional Learning Community. In my district the term has become so common that it's practically lost meaning. Every school has a PLC these days but what it actually looks like seems to vary from school to school. The term in many ways leaves educators with a vague feeling of something they have been told to do but may or may not understand.
I work in what feels like THE Professional Learning Community. We opened our doors three years ago and before the building was finished, before all the teachers were hired, the school was operating under the ideas behind the concept. For us it is not a vague idea or an educational trend but a way of life. You rarely hear the term inside the school because it is just what we do. It's no longer a thing in itself, it is a part of the building.
If I am honest I must admit that in many ways my journey within this PLC structure has been rocky. I came from an amazing school that I feel was torn apart by the district mandating the PLC path. There were of course many reasons for the changes that came to the school, but like a child trying to understand his parents' divorce, I grabbed onto one tangible, intrusive change and held on tight.
The first year at my school I was teaching in our Intellectual Disabilities program. I loved it, but was frustrated by the PLC culture because I very much felt apart from what was happening with the rest of the school. It felt isolating and almost as though it had created a popular clique between my team and the rest of the school. In March, after one meaningful conversation with the administration we changed our structure and found a way to include our team in grade level planning meetings. I started to warm up more to the idea of this PLC. I started to see the value. Once my team was included in the planning meetings I saw the level of achievement of my students rise. OK, there was something here.
The following year I was no longer in the Intellectual Disabilities program, but was a part of the special education team that supported the rest of the school. I experienced the PLC through a different lens, and one that often left me struggling with how I felt about it. I saw the value and watched achievement rise, but something wasn't sitting right. After a few months I realized the problem. Being an introvert in a Professional Learning Community is extremely difficult.
Our meetings involve a lot of people. The four grade level team teachers, the reading or math specialist, the grade level ESOL teacher, the special education teacher, the gifted and talented teacher, technology specialist, the administration, and often visitors from other schools. We plan everything together, laying out the plans for the week in an online notebook. It's amazing and efficient in a lot of ways, but as someone who often thinks before she speaks, it is wildly intimidating. There is a lot to discuss, not much time to discuss it in, and many people want the opportunity to weigh in. People tend to talk over each other, or politely pause to allow someone to finish speaking without fully listening to what was said. For those quieter, more reserved teachers it can feel like those who speak the most become viewed as the ones with all the answers, and those who speak the least are seen as not a true member of the team, or just along for the ride. It can be uncomfortable leaving those meetings week after week feeling like you aren't able to contribute because although you had something to offer you were not able to get a word in edgewise, and when you did it wasn't taken seriously.
Of course, with time and relationship building everyone can become comfortable at the table. As people get to know one another more they will grow to have mutual respect. But relationship building takes time and often is not something we have time for on a day to day basis. And relationship building cannot come from those amazing ice breakers people so often want us to do as educators- you know, the ones third graders love but make us feel ridiculous as adults. I have never heard of a real relationship blossoming from playing "stand up, hand up, pair up". You want to lose an introvert's interest in a topic or professional development? Forced participation is always the answer.
I work in what feels like THE Professional Learning Community. We opened our doors three years ago and before the building was finished, before all the teachers were hired, the school was operating under the ideas behind the concept. For us it is not a vague idea or an educational trend but a way of life. You rarely hear the term inside the school because it is just what we do. It's no longer a thing in itself, it is a part of the building.
If I am honest I must admit that in many ways my journey within this PLC structure has been rocky. I came from an amazing school that I feel was torn apart by the district mandating the PLC path. There were of course many reasons for the changes that came to the school, but like a child trying to understand his parents' divorce, I grabbed onto one tangible, intrusive change and held on tight.
The first year at my school I was teaching in our Intellectual Disabilities program. I loved it, but was frustrated by the PLC culture because I very much felt apart from what was happening with the rest of the school. It felt isolating and almost as though it had created a popular clique between my team and the rest of the school. In March, after one meaningful conversation with the administration we changed our structure and found a way to include our team in grade level planning meetings. I started to warm up more to the idea of this PLC. I started to see the value. Once my team was included in the planning meetings I saw the level of achievement of my students rise. OK, there was something here.
The following year I was no longer in the Intellectual Disabilities program, but was a part of the special education team that supported the rest of the school. I experienced the PLC through a different lens, and one that often left me struggling with how I felt about it. I saw the value and watched achievement rise, but something wasn't sitting right. After a few months I realized the problem. Being an introvert in a Professional Learning Community is extremely difficult.
Our meetings involve a lot of people. The four grade level team teachers, the reading or math specialist, the grade level ESOL teacher, the special education teacher, the gifted and talented teacher, technology specialist, the administration, and often visitors from other schools. We plan everything together, laying out the plans for the week in an online notebook. It's amazing and efficient in a lot of ways, but as someone who often thinks before she speaks, it is wildly intimidating. There is a lot to discuss, not much time to discuss it in, and many people want the opportunity to weigh in. People tend to talk over each other, or politely pause to allow someone to finish speaking without fully listening to what was said. For those quieter, more reserved teachers it can feel like those who speak the most become viewed as the ones with all the answers, and those who speak the least are seen as not a true member of the team, or just along for the ride. It can be uncomfortable leaving those meetings week after week feeling like you aren't able to contribute because although you had something to offer you were not able to get a word in edgewise, and when you did it wasn't taken seriously.
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| We teach our students to listen to one another and respect each other. Are we modeling that in how we treat one another? |
Giving teachers time to form real relationships is not easy. We barely have time to plan, let alone to sit down and bond. Yet any good working relationship has to be formed over time. True collaboration cannot just happen by lighting a match. I am sure this is a problem in all fields, and one that all introverts struggle with. The book Quiet, by Susan Cain provides an excellent example of the struggles that introverts can feel in the work place. What's different with education is that it was not always this way. As the field becomes more and more collaborative the introverts that were doing wonderful lessons with great results in their own classrooms are being viewed as not being team players. The collaborative structure, which often forces wonderful, yet introverted teachers out of their comfort zones, can be quieting quality voices. Often these voices have creative solutions and meaningful insights to their team's work, yet are not comfortable in the new collaborative culture.
Three years into this Professional Learning Community I have become a true believer. It is incredible to see the success our students have. The results speak for themselves. The structure also promotes fast problem solving that benefits everyone. I've been amazed at how issues that can cripple other schools are solved in a ten minute meeting where people put their heads together. As I become more comfortable in the school I no longer feel the frustrations I felt last year as an introvert with my internal struggle of how to participate in the meeting. But I watch others struggle, their excellent, thoughtful voices quieted. As a field we must continue to promote collaboration. It is absolutely, without a doubt the key to student success. But we should be examining our collaborative practices and asking ourselves whether or not we have truly collaborative teams or if we are inadvertently creating structures where some teachers openly share ideas and other just nod and smile. We need to ask ourselves what we can do to promote better collaboration and respect on our teams, even when our precious planning time as educators is limited.
Three years into this Professional Learning Community I have become a true believer. It is incredible to see the success our students have. The results speak for themselves. The structure also promotes fast problem solving that benefits everyone. I've been amazed at how issues that can cripple other schools are solved in a ten minute meeting where people put their heads together. As I become more comfortable in the school I no longer feel the frustrations I felt last year as an introvert with my internal struggle of how to participate in the meeting. But I watch others struggle, their excellent, thoughtful voices quieted. As a field we must continue to promote collaboration. It is absolutely, without a doubt the key to student success. But we should be examining our collaborative practices and asking ourselves whether or not we have truly collaborative teams or if we are inadvertently creating structures where some teachers openly share ideas and other just nod and smile. We need to ask ourselves what we can do to promote better collaboration and respect on our teams, even when our precious planning time as educators is limited.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Time, Scheduling, and Special Education
The other day I took part in a conference call with special educators from across the country. The Government Accountability Office had gathered us together to ask about how following the requirements of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) impacts our day. How much time do we spend on paperwork? Do we feel that this paperwork helps achieve the goals of IDEA? What would we change? What from the paperwork is beneficial?
It was fascinating to hear other professionals' responses, yet I found myself depressed about the call all weekend. Every educator on the call professed to working hours and hours after the students left. The mind boggling paperwork seems to crush our profession, and many shared about time consuming paperwork that holds them accountable for their actions while taking away from their time with the
It was fascinating to hear other professionals' responses, yet I found myself depressed about the call all weekend. Every educator on the call professed to working hours and hours after the students left. The mind boggling paperwork seems to crush our profession, and many shared about time consuming paperwork that holds them accountable for their actions while taking away from their time with the
students. Many talked about refusing to sacrifice valuable time to work with their students during the school day, which of course means they must do paperwork on their personal time. It was depressing to hear about the paperwork requirements other districts have put into place to be able to prove that they are following IDEA. Some of the paperwork is valuable, but some seems to just be creating a paper trail to protect the school districts from law suites.
One participant made a comment about teachers who choose not to work at home and to be with their families instead of working after hours. It felt that their argument was that those teachers sacrifice time from working with the students for their own personal time. As someone with two young children at home that stung. And keeps stinging. Almost every day I am faced with the decision of what work I am going to take home and what I will leave at school so that I can have a few hours with my family. It is always a hard decision knowing that my students are so behind and need so much in order to catch up. Yet my own children need me too. I know every teacher out there, even those without young children, feel this daily battle. We desperately want our students to succeed, and we want to do everything in our power to make that happen, so where do we draw the line between home and work?
One participant made a comment about teachers who choose not to work at home and to be with their families instead of working after hours. It felt that their argument was that those teachers sacrifice time from working with the students for their own personal time. As someone with two young children at home that stung. And keeps stinging. Almost every day I am faced with the decision of what work I am going to take home and what I will leave at school so that I can have a few hours with my family. It is always a hard decision knowing that my students are so behind and need so much in order to catch up. Yet my own children need me too. I know every teacher out there, even those without young children, feel this daily battle. We desperately want our students to succeed, and we want to do everything in our power to make that happen, so where do we draw the line between home and work?
We have to be careful of not falling into the "I work harder, longer, and make more sacrifices than you" game. What are we doing to each other? We have to stop being a profession of martyrs. We are burning each other out by not putting any limits on our work expectations. Tired, grouchy teachers do not do anyone any good.
This is true in all areas of the profession, but particularly in special education where we don't give ourselves enough time to do paperwork during work hours. We often feel guilty if we are sitting at a computer working on the paperwork side of the job instead of working directly with students. No one became a special education teacher because they were excited to fill out forms, document daily progress, and find the perfect, legal sentence that accurately describes how a student is performing in the classroom. We worry that the classroom teachers will judge us for sitting at a computer, and we often judge ourselves.
The paperwork is a significant part of our job, and one that is often overlooked. It is seen as less valuable because it does not directly touch kids. Yet the paperwork is valuable, but only when it is done well. When true data is in place and the paperwork communicates a full picture of the student we are able to gain new perspectives and develop more meaningful plans to help the child learn. We can accurately assess where the student is performing and what the next steps are. We gain insight and an understanding, and protect the student from the harsh judgement of other educators who may view the student as lazy or incapable without knowing the student's background. If we skimp on our paper trail we are doing a disservice to the student. Who knows what others reading the student's file will believe about the student after reading our work?
Almost every teacher I know has developed an uncanny ability to productively use every minute of every day. Lining students up for lunch? A great time to work on counting skills or ordinal numbers? "Who is first in line? Who is second?" Valentines Day? The perfect opportunity to teach how to write a letter. Because we are constantly trying to use every second of every day as effectively as possible we often do ourselves an injustice with scheduling. Ask a teacher how many times they use the bathroom during the school day. For many teachers I am willing to bet it is only once.
To be fair to ourselves, our colleagues, and our students we have to be nicer to ourselves. We have to stop feeling guilty for spending time doing paperwork, for not taking work home every night, or even for giving ourselves a twenty minute lunch break where we are not pulling students for a lunch bunch. There will always be work to take home and students to see, and there are days we will sacrifice our personal time to get these things done. But let's support each other when we choose to create some sort of balance. Let's remind one another that we work better when we work smarter and not harder, and that our students benefit from well planned lessons instead of ones planned on the go because we did not have planning that day. Let's advocate for our planning time with our administrations and not be worried as being seen as lazy or not child focused for asking to have the time to do an essential part of our job.
Almost every teacher I know has developed an uncanny ability to productively use every minute of every day. Lining students up for lunch? A great time to work on counting skills or ordinal numbers? "Who is first in line? Who is second?" Valentines Day? The perfect opportunity to teach how to write a letter. Because we are constantly trying to use every second of every day as effectively as possible we often do ourselves an injustice with scheduling. Ask a teacher how many times they use the bathroom during the school day. For many teachers I am willing to bet it is only once.
To be fair to ourselves, our colleagues, and our students we have to be nicer to ourselves. We have to stop feeling guilty for spending time doing paperwork, for not taking work home every night, or even for giving ourselves a twenty minute lunch break where we are not pulling students for a lunch bunch. There will always be work to take home and students to see, and there are days we will sacrifice our personal time to get these things done. But let's support each other when we choose to create some sort of balance. Let's remind one another that we work better when we work smarter and not harder, and that our students benefit from well planned lessons instead of ones planned on the go because we did not have planning that day. Let's advocate for our planning time with our administrations and not be worried as being seen as lazy or not child focused for asking to have the time to do an essential part of our job.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Grit and Racisim
I was catching up on my blog reading when I stumbled up a recent debate that rose up around whether or not teaching students to have grit is racist.
Grit has been a popular term in education the last few years, and like anything that becomes popular it was bound to get some push back. The idea behind grit is that when students from poverty succeed, what makes them succeed is their work ethic and resiliency, not just what we do for them in school.
I had to read the blog post multiple times because I was so confused. Why would grit be racist? While it become a popular term in reference to teaching resiliency to students from poverty, I'd always thought it was what all of our students need. In fact, as a parent I'm often focused on teaching grit. It is exactly what I want my daughters to have. An ability to work hard, meet challenges head on instead of giving up, and to attempt tasks they are not sure they can do. In the world of the helicopter parent I think it's what all of our students need- not just those from poverty. I'd never thought of the term only being applied to students from poverty. Anytime we apply a concept only to one subset of people I suppose it is racist. But I am doubtful that there are schools out there saying, "OK, you white kids over there can take a break but everybody else better keep working on these math problems during recess."
Grit has been a popular term in education the last few years, and like anything that becomes popular it was bound to get some push back. The idea behind grit is that when students from poverty succeed, what makes them succeed is their work ethic and resiliency, not just what we do for them in school.
I had to read the blog post multiple times because I was so confused. Why would grit be racist? While it become a popular term in reference to teaching resiliency to students from poverty, I'd always thought it was what all of our students need. In fact, as a parent I'm often focused on teaching grit. It is exactly what I want my daughters to have. An ability to work hard, meet challenges head on instead of giving up, and to attempt tasks they are not sure they can do. In the world of the helicopter parent I think it's what all of our students need- not just those from poverty. I'd never thought of the term only being applied to students from poverty. Anytime we apply a concept only to one subset of people I suppose it is racist. But I am doubtful that there are schools out there saying, "OK, you white kids over there can take a break but everybody else better keep working on these math problems during recess."
Thursday, February 5, 2015
You Have the Power
While working through the Feelings Target from the Unstuck and On Target curriculum with a group of fourth grade students I was trying to get the students to identify how they feel when they are a number five, and what they can do to get back to being a number one. After an enlightening discussion on what each student feels like when they are in the five range I tried to change the conversation into what we can do when we feel that way. One student interrupted me, "But Mrs. Lipstick," he interjected with a matter-of-fact sincerity, "I have anger issues."
Exactly my friend. That's why we are here. Now let's talk about the power you have over your actions.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
"What's Latino?"
Our fourth graders are preparing for a Socratic Seminar on Sonia Sotomayor, and so this week guided reading groups are dedicated to discussing her and encouraging them to develop deeper questions and connections about the text, A Judge Grows in Brooklyn. It's an absolutely beautiful book, written in English and Spanish, and lends itself to so many discussions.
As we read it yesterday I watched the faces of the four students in my reading group. Three speak Spanish and are the first generation Americans. One just came into the country from an African country a few months ago. They are an engaging, energetic, and generally happy bunch. I suddenly desperately wanted them to connect with the Sotomayor's story. I wanted them to hold on to the message that your background and other people's prejudice does not mean your life story is already written.
"It says here that Sonia understood how Latino people felt. What does Latino mean?" I asked. Blank stares. Nothing. So I'm left with the ultimate teacher question- understanding that Sotomayor is Latino is a fairly important element in the book. Three of the four students sitting in front of me could be classified as Latino. Do I have to be the one to put that label on them for the first time? Do I need to tell them that the world has words that separate who we are based on where we come from? As I stumbled through describing what Latino meant I felt strange because I realized I'm not even sure how we use the word. They looked at me like I was crazy when I applied it to them and they pointed out that they are all 1) from America and 2) their families are from different countries so they are absolutely NOT the same.
OK, good point. Do I have to tell them that they will meet people in their lives that just don't care and will group them all into the same category because of the color of their skin?
Do they have to have a deep and meaningful connection with this book because I- a white, middle class teacher- have decided they should?
Next page in the book.
"What's prejudice?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't based on our discussion of what Latino. I was met with shrugs and a series of "I don't knows."
"People can judge you for where you came from," I started, and had one student nodding vigorously.
"Yeah," he piped in, "Like you have to know where someone came from- were they at school, or home, or the mall? And what country are they from? Otherwise how will you know to speak Spanish to them?"
OK, different angle-
"You know Martin Luther King? What did he teach us?"
"That people should be nice to him. He didn't have enough friends. OH! and it doesn't matter where you sit on the bus. You get what you get and you don't get upset." Another one contributed, "OH yeah... didn't he want us to be nice to everyone?" Deep breath- how are they in fourth grade and have missed the whole idea of Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks.
"Sonia grew up poor, but she ended up being a judge on the Supreme Court. Is that surprising to you?"
"No. My dad is from El Salvador. He had one bed for his whole family. But now we're here."
"Oh yeah, my family in Bolivia has a tiny house. Being poor doesn't matter."
I was met with a love for my community, childhood innocents, and the unbelievable unfair nature of our culture. These are fourth graders. Eight and nine year olds. Right now they don't see the lines our society has drawn. They are living the American Dream for their families, and do not even know that debates rage about whether or not children like them should be allowed to go to college. They don't understand why they are lumped into one group simply because of the color of their skin and the language they speak. They see people, not labels. They believe us when we say they can work hard and go to college, that being poor doesn't matter, and that they can be anything they want.
How soon will they start to feel racism? When will they realize they don't have the opportunities their classmates have? How important is my role in drawing their attention to what's different about them? What happens if we just let them go on believing that Sonia Sotomayor's story is typical, and they too can achieve it if they just work hard, set goals, and believe in themselves?
As we read it yesterday I watched the faces of the four students in my reading group. Three speak Spanish and are the first generation Americans. One just came into the country from an African country a few months ago. They are an engaging, energetic, and generally happy bunch. I suddenly desperately wanted them to connect with the Sotomayor's story. I wanted them to hold on to the message that your background and other people's prejudice does not mean your life story is already written.
"It says here that Sonia understood how Latino people felt. What does Latino mean?" I asked. Blank stares. Nothing. So I'm left with the ultimate teacher question- understanding that Sotomayor is Latino is a fairly important element in the book. Three of the four students sitting in front of me could be classified as Latino. Do I have to be the one to put that label on them for the first time? Do I need to tell them that the world has words that separate who we are based on where we come from? As I stumbled through describing what Latino meant I felt strange because I realized I'm not even sure how we use the word. They looked at me like I was crazy when I applied it to them and they pointed out that they are all 1) from America and 2) their families are from different countries so they are absolutely NOT the same.OK, good point. Do I have to tell them that they will meet people in their lives that just don't care and will group them all into the same category because of the color of their skin?
Do they have to have a deep and meaningful connection with this book because I- a white, middle class teacher- have decided they should?
Next page in the book.
"What's prejudice?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't based on our discussion of what Latino. I was met with shrugs and a series of "I don't knows."
"People can judge you for where you came from," I started, and had one student nodding vigorously.
"Yeah," he piped in, "Like you have to know where someone came from- were they at school, or home, or the mall? And what country are they from? Otherwise how will you know to speak Spanish to them?"
OK, different angle-
"You know Martin Luther King? What did he teach us?"
"That people should be nice to him. He didn't have enough friends. OH! and it doesn't matter where you sit on the bus. You get what you get and you don't get upset." Another one contributed, "OH yeah... didn't he want us to be nice to everyone?" Deep breath- how are they in fourth grade and have missed the whole idea of Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks.
"Sonia grew up poor, but she ended up being a judge on the Supreme Court. Is that surprising to you?"
"No. My dad is from El Salvador. He had one bed for his whole family. But now we're here."
"Oh yeah, my family in Bolivia has a tiny house. Being poor doesn't matter."
I was met with a love for my community, childhood innocents, and the unbelievable unfair nature of our culture. These are fourth graders. Eight and nine year olds. Right now they don't see the lines our society has drawn. They are living the American Dream for their families, and do not even know that debates rage about whether or not children like them should be allowed to go to college. They don't understand why they are lumped into one group simply because of the color of their skin and the language they speak. They see people, not labels. They believe us when we say they can work hard and go to college, that being poor doesn't matter, and that they can be anything they want.
How soon will they start to feel racism? When will they realize they don't have the opportunities their classmates have? How important is my role in drawing their attention to what's different about them? What happens if we just let them go on believing that Sonia Sotomayor's story is typical, and they too can achieve it if they just work hard, set goals, and believe in themselves?
Monday, February 2, 2015
The Freedom to Tinker, Explore, and Problem Solve
Since moving out of our very small town house into a single family home I've found that we have a bit of space in the unfinished part of the basement to dedicate to solely to crafts. My mother had done this for me when I was little and gave me a craft space out of the way of my younger brothers where I could create anything I wanted. I decided to do the same thing for my three year old.
The first and probably most important aspect of our craft area is the tub of trash-turned-treasures waiting to inspire an idea. I throw in paper towel rolls, egg cartons, interesting boxes and anything else that I suspect may inspire creativity. Obviously I don't let it get out of control. If the box is full then it's full- nothing else will be added. It's one tub and is kept out of the way under a shelf. I just toss items in here that would otherwise head for the recycling bin. I also keep other items on hand for her to use such as ribbon, pipe cleaners, paint brushes (she has to ask to use the paints), and glitter pens. She has easy access to all of these so that they can easily inspire a creative idea. Items she needs help with are kept visible to remind her she can use them, such as the button jar, a glue bottle, and the paints.
Since we started using this for arts and crafts I've noticed a change in how my daughter approaches projects. The other day I was finishing up an egg carton and she asked me if she could use it to make a train.
"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling lazy and not wanting to take the carton down to the basement if it wasn't actually going to be used.
"First I'll cut it here, and here, and here. In half. And then paint it and put it together like a train" she explained. (She doesn't actually know what half is, but it was a nice attempt at using a new vocabulary word.) Her plan was enough for me. We put it aside and this weekend while her sister was napping we got it back out.
She carefully dictated to me the exact steps. I (tried) to only do what she said. She gave me exact directions on how she wanted it cut. Then she stared at the pieces of the carton for awhile before deciding how she wanted to decorate them (with pieces of the Frozen ribbon, *sigh*) and then put them together. She needed me for the cutting, putting holes into the egg carton and squeezing the glue out of the bottle, but other than that she worked independently, problem solving and narrating as she went.
My daughter's train does not look much like a train. Yet she is ridiculously proud of her creation. What more can you ask for?
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