daring pt 2023

Saying goodbye to another year can stir up a lot of emotions. I found myself reflecting about a farewell post to share with you knowing it will be one more that brings me closer to the end of my time here on this platform.

This in itself is not yet a goodbye, as there are still 6 plus months of writing to come. It is, however, a great chance to look back and look forward from the precipice of one year’s end and towards a new year ahead. Maybe this is a function of age or some other memory related trope, but I will prattle on nevertheless.

As a result of this melancholic thinking I find myself asking, “what did I do in the past year that was daring as an educator, and what will I do in 2024 that will be daring as well”? I guess I need to consider what counts as daring because this can be construed as mere subjectivity if it does not mesh well with the minds of others as it is intended. Dare I go on? 

Daring can conjure up a lot of imaginary thinking from one to the next so before you conflate ‘daring’ with dangerous please read on.

Looking back on 2023

From an outsider’s point of view, 2023 couldn’t have been more normal considering the turmoil of the lockdown, online, and hybrid models we taught through in the years prior. The joy of not having to prepare and deliver lessons for two different grades of in-class and online learners while not having to worry so much about social distancing, masking, or illness was cause for much rejoicing. As 2023 started, it felt like we were really coming out of the pandemic and I was able to really focus on my students. 

This meant taking time to reimagine what learning needed to look like for students who experienced learning in a manner that had never been delivered to them before. Daring to go back to old(er) ways didn’t seem right with my students. They needed something else, and that came in the form of social emotional learning more than academics. 

So 2023 started off with more team oriented and collaborative projects that asked students to recapture their abilities to listen to one another to accomplish a goal with just as much importance as succeeding at learning the curriculum infused within it. My goal was to put the individual learner back into the spaces that were stolen from them by COVID19.

Admittedly, there was a lot of work to do when it came to assessment, but that in itself was also a chance to be a bit daring too. Before you dial 911, please remember that we were all given a new hand of cards to play with during the pandemic. What we knew beforehand was only going to serve as a starting point and not a return destination.

It was, to forgive the pun, like the beginning of new year. It was full of promise and without any mistakes in it. Assessment became a chance to have students see themselves reflected in how they wanted to show their learning. We took time to democratize rubrics and methods to demonstrate understanding. For us that meant fewer pencil and paper tests, more conversations and check-ins, more feedback, and many more chances to revisit learning. Instead of teaching, testing, and moving on we learned, lingered on what needed more time, unlearned, and relearned as often as needed.

Yes, we still managed to get the whole curriculum and it was a government mandated standardized testing year as well. 

I think that 2023 also allowed me to dare a little more boldly into my lessons when it came to social justice focused on BIPOC excellence and culturally responsive and relevant learning opportunities that went beyond the heroes and holidays. Instead of a single day or month, these conversations became part of our class logos, pathos, and ethos. Ultimately, it allowed my students to feel seen, heard, and empowered with greater understanding of one another which also led back to the social learning I set out to teach to start the year. 

Being able to work with my class to start 2023 carried over nicely from January to December even with my new, much quieter, cohort of students and I am seeing the fruits from taking those chances earlier in the year even though the delivery is definitely different for this group, the goal to teach to their social emotional needs first remained. 

On a personal level we sold our house, moved, and continue to unpack. In between all of that were 3 weeks of summer school teaching, and a quick trip to bury an uncle. Life did not skip a beat when it meted out the highs and lows of 2023. For all of them, I am thankful to be working in a wonderfully led and staffed school filled with caring and curious learners each daring to take the steps towards discovering and developing their talents.

My next post will look at how I might be daring in my classroom in 2024. I ask you all to consider that too and share your thoughts in the comments below.

speak up

There are a lot of privileges and responsibilities when it comes to using our voices as educators. The potential to inspire and aspire to greater things or to cause irreparable harm if and when we do should serve as a reminder of how we use our voices and who might be listening.

Sometimes, there is an urgent need to speak out against injustice. Did I type sometimes? I meant all the time when it comes to injustice, and that need to do so seems to be happening a lot more frequently in our ever connected world where it is now possible to know about everything, everywhere, and all at once.

Maybe it is a bi-product of years on the frontline of interactions with learners, family members, and other educators, but teachers possess powerful voices. It is in our nature to ask questions, seek answers, and to reflect/learn/draw from it all. Whether it comes through uniting with others in the fight against racism, apathy, or injustice or in active allyship with once silenced voices historically left out of important conversations there is a need to speak up. 

Some find their voices in virtual spaces via social media posts and reposts? For others, it’s in solidarity through meetings or rallies? Our need to speak up can be triggered through moral dilemmas too. What troubles one soul may not immediately trouble another. When it comes to if, when, where, and why we speak up the results vary. How we speak up has evolved greatly.

As a blogger, I am able to use this space and others to purge my thoughts. Podcasts can also be a strong way to share too and they come with the added layer of hearing the passionate tones of the content creator. Maybe it’s because I am more of a writer now than a broadcaster, but I’m still a fan of the idea and potential of handwritten letters. Letters signify that someone took the time to write, address an envelope, and pay for postage. When written(not typed) they demonstrate a personal touch that is often lacking in an email. Talk about making a commitment to sharing a point of view. There is also an art to it when done correctly, and this is what has captured my thoughts as I plan a mini writing unit. 

 A single letter to an organization is often considered to represent anywhere from 15 to 20 other people who share the same opinion. So, my students and I are about to embark on a letter writing exercise, and I have to admit that this has me thinking of the possibilities and conversations to come. As I shared in an earlier post, my students tend to be a little quieter than most. Despite their introverted leanings, or because of them, they are pretty strong writers. Hence the idea to write letters.

For me, this unit will focus around supporting students and their needs. I want to make sure the voices (theirs) in our classrooms serve as conversational conduits that can lead others to critically examine the world around them in order to gain a deeper understanding of its numerous and nuanced issues. With our letter writing project, I am hoping students will really discover, develop, and use their voices to deliver their ideas through respectful correspondence that asks questions of their own while addressing the actions of those making the decisions right now. 

In advance of all of this, we have been considering the differences between elementary schools and secondary schools. This has ranged from chats about course offerings, extra-curricular opportunities, and facilities. It has also led to the realization that the field is not completely level. Hmm? We have also had discussions around some lighter subjects such as the way no one seems to listen anymore, academic angst, the climate crisis, geo-political strife, and playground life. Regardless of which issue they choose to address, the goal will be to amplify each of the voices in our learning space. 

Another way to look at equipping students to use their voices might also be preparing a way for the future voices of others to be heard and or to carry on once our voices are no longer present. Call it strategic succession planning if you will, but learning to speak up is an important skill to share from one generation to the next regardless of the form it takes.

 

Holocaust Education Week

In my school, the focus is on small group instruction, specially targeting reading. On a daily basis, I am looking at pulling small groups to focus on a literacy skill. During Holocaust Education Week (November 1-9), I pulled my small groups and we read “My Secret Camera”, an article in the Nelson literacy grade eight text that focuses on making inferences. 

With each small group, students took turns reading the photo essay. I also looked at vocabulary as on each page, students came across words that they were unsure of. So we made sure to define unknown words, especially as for some, this was new learning and a very sensitive topic. Students had some prior knowledge and were able to use that as well as looking at the photos to make inferences. Students were shocked as the photos in this photo essay were quite telling as they painted the picture of the harsh realities during the Holocaust. 

After reading the essay, I gave students a chance to answer orally. We have been doing a lot of written responses and I thought it was a great opportunity (especially seeing as I wanted to be finished with the activity in one class) to answer orally. Students were asked to answer one of the three questions:

  • Do you find it easier to make inferences by viewing the photos or reading the text?
  • How does the author want you to feel after reading this photo essay?
  • What inferences about the Łódź Ghetto can you draw from the photos? 

Students were able to refer to specific parts of the text and certain photos while answering each question. 

I was able to work with each student by the end of the week and felt that everyone learned a lot and were able to give it their all. As many schools have copies of the Nelson Literacy text, I encourage you to have your students read this photo essay as it was a very powerful lesson for my students. 

For more information about Holocaust Education, please visit this ETFO resource page which was featured in our member news on November 8th:https://www.etfo.ca/socialjusticeunion/anti-semitism/resource-links

Additional resources can also be found here: Link

Reference:

Hume, K., & Ledgerwood, B. (2008). My Secret Camera. In Nelson Literacy (pp. 20–23). essay, Nelson Education.

wha’ppen

I used to listen to a lot of ska (two tone) music during my youth. It was time well spent. Hearing the steady rhythms and upbeat lyrics from the Specials, the Skatelites, and Madness always put me in the right headspace. Now, before you think I have overlooked another key group, look back at the title of this piece, and know that the cornerstone of my record collection was occupied by the English Beat.

Wha’ppen was just one of the many albums to frequently spin on my turntable. While listening, I would read about how this band formed and who played which instruments, arranged the melodies, and crafted the lyrics. I learned that wha’appen was patois for what’s happening? This was my first time hearing a different dialect of English, and it came with a sonic introduction to a whole bunch of new vocabulary too. I also learned that The English Beat formed as a response to a great deal of socio-political and musical upheaval happening in England and around the world at the time.* 

As a teenager, it was really cool to listen to music that wasn’t being played on the radio, and to listen to the collaborations of this group who did not outwardly resemble the lineups of most rock or punk bands that I had known before.

The English Beat looked and sounded differently than others. They incorporated ska, rock steady, roots, along with reggae and infused it all with thought provoking lyrics which were anchored by upbeat tunes and creative instrumentation. This music was unlike anything else I had heard before; with the exception of Peter Tosh or The Wailers.

So what does a memory lane visit about the English Beat have to do with helping teachers at all phases of their careers? Well, it’s about taking time to remember what motivates you. Regardless of who was blasting out of my speakers these artists provided a soundtrack to my life that lifted my thoughts and spirit at a time when I was making decisions that would impact the future.

40+ years later, these songs still bring me joy. It’s not that there haven’t been other musicians and genres to achieve similar revered status because there are dozens that comprise the soundtrack of this teacher’s life. So far. I also love sharing these songs with my students. 

In her P3 Podcast, Noa Daniel asks guests to pick 3 songs (nostalgia, identity, and pick me up) that best represent them. This project was actually inspired by a classroom project Noa shared with her students. Participants picked their songs and then had a chance to discuss them with Noa. I loved sharing my 3 songs with her. 

Music has this way of breaking down barriers and opening up our minds to experience the thoughts and melodies of others. Music is ageless, timeless, and boundless. I can’t think of a better medium or time to remind others that music allows us the chance to listen. And when we listen, we gain understanding, knowledge, and joy. We also gain a chance to process wha’appen each time we put on some tunes. 

Teachers experience a lot of sounds throughout their days in the classroom. Not all of them are soothing. Some sounds are downright dissonant, while still others are reflective of the emotions being felt in our classrooms. After a hectic month of report prep, instruction, and parent conferences, I am thankful to have so many tracks that help to steady my heart and mind from day to day. 

One more thing: I was thinking about walk-up songs. You know the upbeat samples that come on at sporting events when a particular player is introduced. I was wondering what your walk up song would be? What came to mind first might not even be your favourite song, as if anyone could pick just one. Even after much deliberation, I still struggle to decide, but the first song that came to mind was Sabotage by the Beastie Boys. I am sure that a completely different song will pop into my head next time. 

Please share your song in the comments below. Happy listening. 

*Nothing has changed but the day, month, and year on the upheaval front. Sigh.

sssh, our students are trying to tell us something

Chaotic, cacophonous, raucous, lively, spirited, loud, energetic, full of beans, demanding, and too loud are all words that have been used to describe my classes over the course of my career. I have also heard irreverent (not disrespectful), confrontational (willing to challenge the status quo), and demanding (using their voices when things ain’t right) too, but that has been mostly in a positive light. To be truthful I have really come to appreciate their ebullience and passion when it comes to occupying their learning spaces. After all, it’s theirs. We just get to work within it.

Until this year, there has been one word not heard describing my homeroom though – quiet. Perhaps it is because we are only 4 weeks into the new year or that this group is still trying to figure out their new teacher (good luck to them) or that I have been blessed with a room that is 80 percent filled with phlegmatic and introverted personality types. Needless to say, the silence has been a bit deafening because this group is q-u-i-e-t.

What’s that you ask? How can a group of 6th graders possibly be quiet? I know, right? Yet, here we are about to take off on a little thought flight.

This year has me thinking about the approaches I am taking with this clearly unique grouping of oddly quiet scholars. Will it last? Am I jinxing myself by the mere mention of their tranquil behaviour? Is this what teaching is going to look like going forward in the post pandemic era of constant connectivity? After all, this group was in grade 2, just learning to fly, when they were grounded for nearly 3 years. How come there seems to be fewer relentless participants than in years past?

Do I need to build more quiet, reflective, and self-directed time into my day? Could this finally be the group that will meditate with me? Do our discussions need to be in smaller groups so those reticent voices have a chance to be heard? How do I honour the A-types because every classroom needs them too?

I started browsing about and found a line that encapsulates what I am seeing right now.

“Behind silent people there is an incredible thinking machine working.” ~Tina Panossian

I know that my quieter learners are working hard. I know that they are figuring things out on the inside rather than where it can be seen. For whatever reasons they choose to work this way, I will do everything possible to make them feel safe, feel seen, and know they are intelligent.

Here’s what has worked so far; the use of no hands participation, peer to peer discussions, and small group conversations. Each of these have helped me ascertain the information necessary to know when we are in full flight to our desired destination or whether we have lost all engines and are bracing for a rough landing somewhere uncharted. Either way, we are on this journey together. Perhaps this group prefers to plug in the headphones and read rather than talk with the folx sitting in their row?

Yet, despite not having much turbulence I think that there is still a lot of work to come in order to chart the best course in navigating this unique group. The world needs introverts. The world needs deep thinkers. It is in these two truths that I get really excited thinking about what can happen if the right conditions get created to give them all flight. All I know now is that there is a chance to build something new into my instructional spaces that might be a benefit to every learner. 

I think an update post will be forthcoming in December. 

Thank you for reading and reflecting with me. Please keep the conversation going in the comments.
Will

Remembering why

On Friday, September 29th, our school board wore orange shirts to remember the mistreatment of Indigenous children in residential schools. As September 30th is the national day for truth and reconciliation, Friday was the day we recognized  this date in schools. 

This year, one of my students who just arrived in Canada a few years ago asked why we do this every year. I gave him the best answer I could, mentioning how important it is to learn about the mistakes of our country’s past and to work towards reconciliation. He understood that but didn’t understand why we were watching the same story as last year. So this year I decided to have my students reflect on some of the key takeaways of reconciliation.

  • How genuine are apologies? Do they change what happened in the past? For this, we watched several videos of apologies made to Indigenous communities  
  • What can you do in your life to make sure you never try to change someone? We reflected on how all these children were assimilated after their arrival to the schools and how their rights and freedoms were taken away
  • We shared how learning about this each year is part of the truth and reconciliation process and that it is an important part of the work that still needs to be done

However, the “why” on Friday made me remember that the “why” should always be the central focus of all of our lessons. If we don’t know why we are teaching something or starting some project, we haven’t really thought out our lessons. If there is no end goal or why, then we need to re-examine our work and try again. Which is why I am so glad I was asked that on Friday, I needed to remember what I wanted the learning to be. I worked backwards from there.

Another important thing I remembered this year was that our newcomers may not know about this history of our country and it may be a lot to tell them at once. I had some of my students translate the central ideas around Orange shirt day but fear it may have been too much to handle. Next year, I look forward to planning ahead of time with an ESL teacher to think how I can make this learning more accessible for all.

As we reflect on our past and how we can better shape the future, I think about our new language curriculum with the Indigenous focus of many expectations and look forward to planning and focusing on the “why”. 

P.A. day

Psst. The ‘s’ in P.A. is silent. Well that would be how many outside of education might see these days when staff are at schools while students frolic and faff about with their families. Nothing could be further from that misconception. I wonder if there are any educators left who can recall a time in their careers when these days didn’t exist. A quick search on the interwebs revealed very little information beyond some government pages. After this week’s learning, my full brain was not willing to click on for more.

It was a P.A. day in my school board and, in the spirit of “P.A.” days past, come with their share of work for educators at all phases of their careers. On the day’s menu: attention to countless operational matters, safety videos, wellness/mental health videos, and new curriculum/instructional insights. As anyone who has participated in this day in prior years this year’s “P.A..” day learning lineup seemed much more robust.

At my school, we met in the morning to discuss students at risk, sign off on safety plans, watch important video reminders related to our professional duty and safety. There we were 50+ together, synchronizing our minds on all aspects on so many important pieces to the puzzle picture we call education.

Hours of learning/refreshing our minds plus some prep time later, we were then given a chance to work through some fresh thinking on literacy and math by division. This included some instructional approaches to the new language curriculum, as well as some time to browse board curated math resources. With all the boxes ticked, there was just enough time for some planning during an afternoon prep time which included giving some feedback on an assignment.

It was a full day. As I worked through the day a couple of questions came to mind;
1a. Was this enough time to really allow the flood of content to permeate my cerebral space?
1b. If not, when do I find time to let that happen?
2. What was it like at other schools? How much time was spent in self-directed/exploratory activities around the new approaches in language and math? Was it enough? If there are others like me, when do we find that time to continue with this learning? Is there a life/work imbalance expected then?
3. With so much of the content prescribed from the system level, are there other approaches to consider in order to deliver the mandated compliance pieces while maximizing new learning opportunities?

For many of us, it is impossible to forget the stark differentiation between losing a finger or a toe and loss of limb in the Workplace Injury module, and those dearly departed ladder safety videos. I still wipe the rungs of my ladder because of them, even at home. Even as much of this familiar and important content has evolved, I felt overstimulated and overwhelmed with all of the learning that was prescribed for this “P.A.” day. Was I the only one? Was it the pace?

In the weeks and months to come, there will be more learning added, and I will have to proceed with it at my own pace as a learner. In some cases, it might already mesh with my learning style as I discovered that the suggested strategies for math learning have finally caught up with my teaching style.

I am happy to try out and learn new things, but even when I go to the grocery store and load up for a week or two, I have never cooked everything that was brought home for just one meal. That shared, it will be a couple of weeks before what I started will truly be processed and completed even though we were given a day. I guess this “elephant will be eaten one bite at time” (adapted from Desmond Tutu).

that kid

Created by DALL-E
a-class-photo-of-faceless-students-in-the-styles-of-Monet-Rembrandt-Kandinsky-and-Warhol prompt by author

I was thinking about that kid and I found myself getting emotional. 

You know the one. We all do. Whether the name(s) or face(s) you thought of are in your class this year or not. We all have one or two students who popped in there almost immediately. I am not going to sugar coat this either because it got emotional. When I think about that kid, my feelings range quite widely here. Anger, joy, sadness, peace, et al have all staked their claims in my amygdalae and other rose coloured spaces in my emotional thought centre.

My first “that kid” came when I was quite new to teaching. I probably owe them an apology for pushing too hard about their studies without considering how hard it must have been to be truly trying their best, but not meeting the expectations of which I was thoroughly* convinced were so clearly taught and put within reach. Like I mentioned above, an apology has been uttered on a couple of occasions for that learner into the universe. 

There are two other feelings that happens sometimes, relief and angst. Relief that you were able to make it through a year together and grow. Angst over what I missed or, straight up, got completely wrong. My most recent that kid reads like this: 

Is quiet – too quiet.
Sticks to the sidelines as if crazy glued there.
Struggles to start something, and struggles even more to finish.
Whether it is a transition, a sentence, or a math challenge mine has got me thinking about what I need to do differently next time because there will be a next time no matter how hard I work to learn the lessons from the past to use now and in the future.

As teachers, I’ve noticed that we tend to be pretty hard on ourselves much more often than we realize or care to admit. It’s who we are as reflective practitioners who seek to make things better for our learners. I have noticed that we fret far more about any flaws in our work even when there are few if any cracks in our foundations. We are constant works in progress alongside our students and we wear it on our sleeves when it doesn’t go well. 

Sometimes, that kid gifts you some victories too. You see, all that time spent investing in that kid can turn out to be a life enriching moment for you as an educator and even more so for that kid as a scholar. Since my first that kid nearly 15 years ago, I have marveled at hearing from students who are completing degrees at amazing schools and starting to write the next chapters of their lives. This week I ran into a student who will be doing just that.

To be honest, it wasn’t all sunshine and lollipops with this particular that kid. If poor choices, bad behaviour, and work avoidance were credit courses, this learner would be top of the class. Fast forward 6 years and they are about to begin a very challenging degree program at a top university. That could have only happened with significant support, responsibility, accountability, and commitment. In other words, the exact opposite to where they were back then. So what turned this scholar around? How did the switch get flipped, and who did the flipping? I was certainly thrilled to receive such news knowing that there would be more good things to come as a result of them finding their stride as a student. Whoever helped this “that kid” turn over a new leaf has changed one young person’s life not for good, but for great. 

I am also aware that there are some who will never get to experience an about face like the that kid above, and I need to take ownership of that and work to improve going forward. Maybe my next that kid will not fall through the cracks through their education? I know that there is always room to improve what and how we do this job of ours. I know that teachers have countless conversations in order to find and fit the complex puzzle pieces we know as students together. I know that there is no single strategy or approach that will reach 100% of our students. What we need to remind ourselves is that we come pretty close to perfection, and we do it across a decade plus of siloed collaboration, between the panels, whether we realize it or not. 

When you think about it, each of our students could have as many as 50 teachers over their K to 12 careers. Of course homeroom teachers occupy the bulk of those first 10 years yet that still means there are countless points of influential interaction to be had between an entire cast of educators all working in concert to make sure each that kid gets and gives the best. 

This job asks us to accept and understand that we often will never know how the work we put in with our students will support them in the future. Closure is not a luxury many elementary teachers ever have once our students move onward and beyond our schools, but that should not bring us down because there is always that kid who takes the time, after several years have gone by, to reach out and connect again: to share how much they appreciated what was taught to them in and out of the classroom all those years ago. 

 

*On a random note: the word thoroughly breaks down into tho roughly. So now my idea of thorough will always be considerate of whether I was thorough or tho rough

fine, everything is fine

I have a habit of saying, “fine” whenever asked how things are going. Whether it is symptomatic of a half century plus of social conditioning or simply learned ambivalence is still to be determined. It could be a combo of the two as well. I am a big fan of “fine”.

It has the insouciant distance and indifference that propels me past and through the issues of the day. After all, who wants to be a burden to others when so many are already maxed out with their own lives. Isn’t it the North American expectation to steadfastly power through the day with stoic determination. In many ways that’s what happens to people who stay in the safety of their silos. 

It is not beyond a single educator to utter this answer all the while knowing that behind the scenes, in our heads, or in full view of all to see that there is a lot of meaning to “fine”. It is a societal expectation that we respond “fine” because our polite programming provides the same answer each time even when it is not true. 

It’s not a lie if you believe it. – George Costanza

I love the quote above and it rings a little too true with this topic. Although it was intended for a different context in the show Seinfeld, it definitely applies when considering the mental health and well being of all who work in education. When will we have time to unpack the emotional baggage covered by “fine”? How do we get to a place of trust to provide the support that is necessary for us to listen as well as be heard? 

Breathe in, breathe out. I’m fine. You are fine. Everything is fine.  Thank you very much for asking and not burdening either of us with a truth that we verily have little time to acknowledge or attend to if it turned out to be false. Now, let’s get about our days. Sound familiar?

As a profession, there are few others to rival the frenetic paces that educators face over the entirety of a school year. Imagine each classroom along the lines of a corporate model where each grade occupies an important floor of a tall tower. On each of these floors there are numerous cubicles filled with team leaders and workers all charged with annually accumulating, accruing, and retaining the knowledge and the skills to find, climb, and remain on the next floor above them. 

With each September ‘new year’ comes the mysteries, highs, lows, and unexpected life events of a newly gathered group. Buckle up because it could be a bumpy ride. What surprises me, over most of my 14 years in education, is that the ride is nearly 3/4s finished before I realize where the heck I am. This explains the timing of this post in March with the realization that there is much work to be done. 

As if that collaboration and hard work to move on up wasn’t enough, the teams are dismantled, mixed, and reassembled to include other workers from their former floor, but now forming under different leaders just to keep it fresh. Despite the best efforts to make everything seem fine, I can’t help but wonder how students are doing too. The past 3 years have been anything but fine. Yet, as we move them from floor to floor, like the adults who lead them, they are already accepting that the only answer to give is “fine”. 

With all of the talk surrounding mental health and community wellness in schools, I am not fine with “fine” being the answer and am working hard to redefine the work I am doing around it. 

I’ll leave you with this.

I was fortunate enough to be a part of a meeting with student leaders from our school mental health collaborative.
This session revealed some extremely important truths that can light a path to somewhere good for students and teachers.
Here are my takeaways and echoed thoughts in (  ).

  1. Students are feeling the stress
    (Teachers are feeling the stress)
  2. Students want to do something about it
    (Teachers want to do something about it)
  3. Students are looking to work with educators to create and implement solutions
    (Teachers are looking to work with students to create and implement solutions)
  4. Students need teachers who can listen without feeling that they need to have any or all of the answers
    (Teachers need others who can listen without feeling that they need to have any or all of the answers)
  5. Students need teachers who will help lead programs that are relevant to their needs rather than those that have been prescribed from outside of the building.
    (Teachers need others who will help lead programs that are relevant to their needs  rather than those that have been prescribed from outside of the building.)

Thank you for reading. Please feel free to add your thoughts in the comment box to keep the conversation going.  

fractures

an image of fractions made with a blend of colourful geometric shapes in the style of Picasso and Klimt via Dalle 2
Image – fractions made with a blend of colourful geometric shapes in the style of Picasso and Klimt via Dalle 2 prompts by author

Bumps, bruises, cuts, and scars dot my skin. They serve as little reminders of the life that has been lived on the outside. Whether visible to others or not, I cannot look at them without recalling most of the moments and misadventures that caused them. I see these marks as near misses and continue to add more to my collection whether it is in the kitchen, workshop, or enjoying time with others.

Call this post ‘fractures’?

In my half century plus adventure time, I have not broken many bones along the way. Other than most of my fingers, a couple of ribs (which made baseball and golfing really tough that year), and my nose back in grade 6 playing football on the school team, I have been very fortunate not to ever be fitted with an itchy or cumbersome cast – although there is still time.

My collection of near misses and minor breaks have taught me quite a bit. I have to take my physical existence seriously when it comes to my actions and inactions. Perhaps my injuries are the products of inattention on my part? Perhaps I let my guard down with what-could-possibly-go-wrong thinking? Perhaps I needed to pay closer attention going forward? Somehow I am sounding like my parents and teachers and it’s bringing me back to the purpose of this post – fractures.

There is not a single one among us who enters the classroom each day without fractures. You see, we have all endured down times, loss, failure, and disappointment at one point in our lives or another. Whether physiologically or psychologically, fractures come along with life’s other certainties such as death, taxes, and dishes(without apologies to Ben Franklin). What we make of our fractures is often where we find our strength and determination.

If a bone breaks, the body begins the healing process immediately. Once something goes snap, the cells organize themselves to start the repair process. Interestingly enough, it is not like your brain is the boss yelling at the workers to do their jobs or go faster. At this point it is along for the ride because the body already knows what to do. The brain just takes the credit. “My what a nice job we did healing that tibia over the past 6 weeks.” Despite attending to the remediating a reconstruction project, the body can still get about other daily cognitive business, but when someone’s mind or spirit becomes fractured, the body is often likely to deteriorate in the process until healing and restoration are complete. So why is this so hard?

Fractures in our personal and thought lives are never usually front and centre though. Adding to this mystique is the elusive nature of mental health in general. Our fractured spirits are not easily seen by untrained minds and are often interpreted as rude behaviour or that maybe you need a time out to gather your thoughts. This is also common in our students. It is also compounded because, many times, they are processing emotions that seem difficult to articulate due to confusion and fear of being judged, cast out, mocked, or all of the above.

The Ontario Grade 6 Health Curriculum gives us some solid teaching and learning points that I have really been trying to build into the life skillsets of students in and out of our class time. Interestingly enough, this teaching really meshes well with the book The Tools by Phil Stutz and Barry Michels which happens to be my current personal read, but that’s a blog for a different site.

So often we are faced with situations that are followed by a barrage of feelings and much more often than not we find ourselves reacting rather than responding. As our lessons have progressed, students have learned to assess the situation, identify their emotions, and then use strategies for resolution. Yet, even with the skills we are implementing into our daily interactions, the struggle to be honest and free of fear about our fractures and feelings is really hard to reckon with one another. This goes for teachers just as much as students.

We need to step outside of our comfort zones which double as camouflaged cages of social media level perfection and problem free happiness. We need to normalize that life is messy at times and that things can be and become broken. If we take time to pick up the pieces and put them back together there is a chance that these fractures can be mended.

In many cases the silence is even more deafening when it comes to issues of mental health in the classroom. Judging by recent news reports in response to the provincial budget causes me to believe we are in for more and more fractured students slipping through the cracks in our schools.

Yes, we can acknowledge it, but more often than not we are still too fractured as a society to truly support each other when there is so much need already. The keys has been and will continue to be in the hands of educators. As we walk through the hallways and curate our classrooms, take time to help the fractured around you by making time to acknowledge them (yourself), listen (talk with someone), and help them (yourself) heal.