4 years ago I discovered the app Seesaw which is a digital portfolio for students but way more. Recently it also added a direct parent communication piece which I absolutely love and I can also post announcements all at once to parents or just to a few by the click of a button. The best thing about the app for me is that the students can upload their own work and comment on it and I can provide feedback. I approve everything before it goes on the site. Parents LOVE it. For me, it does everything that I need a communication app to do. So what’s the issue?
3 years ago our school board got a contract with Edsby. I understand that as a school board it is accessible in many ways for all teachers. There is system information that is on the site that can be accessed from anywhere. There is a platform for staff room chat and places to post things on calendar etc., However I do not find that it is friendly for teachers nor students to use. The mobile app is glitchy and I get frustrated at the stream of conversations that don’t seem to match up. I have been told by our administration that we have to use it to communicate with parents. All but two of my parents have signed up for Seesaw (internet access issues) and only a quarter have signed up for Edsby. I don’t know why exactly, but I can only assume that they don’t find it as friendly to use. I do paper copies for major announcements to ensure that everyone gets those in one way or another. I use Edsby to comply to my school board’s request and I’m doubling my work in the meantime.
When I first began teaching it was a big deal to have a “monthly” newsletter and calendar of events go home to parents. Principals wanted to see copies and approve them before they went home. Now we are in constant communication with parents and we are being told exactly what platform we are supposed to be using in order to do it. There is a huge workload issue in parent communication and it creeps up on us daily. With an increase in high needs students that deal with behavioural or mental health issues teachers are expected to communicate on a daily basis in a communication book with their families. While I understand the need for documentation for myself and for the parents, the expectation is overwhelming. I am fortunate this year that I have my preparation time at the end of the day and I can take the time to communicate with parents. However, I don’t get to use my prep time for lesson preparation. I don’t know what the answer is here. I’m going to continue to use my professional judgement about how I communicate with parents however, hopefully this post will begin a discussion about communication overload. I’m open for suggestions on how others are able to manage!
I’m guilty, and intend to re-offend. I will not be pleading innocent or apologizing either. So call the cops because I confess to caring about the well being of my students. And I think there are other recidivists like me out there. Yet, how would we know since so many educators spend their time siloed in self-sentenced solitary confinement?
Maybe, the problem is attributable to my particular approach to pedagogy? I write my tongue in cheek admission because I believe that student well being needs to be the foundation upon which all student success is built. Ensuring that my students know that they matter comes first and foremost. If not, it would be like building an upside down pyramid. It will not stand the test of time. (insert imaginary picture of an upside down pyramid here) In other words, it’s about relationships.
Is that a siren in the distance?
My instruction is student centred, connected, and committed to their success far beyond the marks on a report card. I want them to learn how to be awesome at life. That means taking time to invest in learning what makes my students tick as learners first. Not to mention, by the creation of safe, failure tolerant spaces for them to share what they hate about school. Before you let the police in, think about this.
My students are also asked to share what they love about school, and what they would like to have happen more often. I am trying to democratize the classroom here by listening to and valuing their voices. Let’s call this time Septovember. When it comes to their futures I’m guilty of involving students in the conversations that affect this part of their lives too.
Many of our Septovember discussions circle around activism, advocacy, and learning to think about one another. In the past year, I decided to throw all of the cards on the table. I announced that we were going to have a challenge task in our language block. I started the lesson off by saying, “The adults in your life have failed you. I have failed you. My parents have failed you. And a whole lot of people before us have failed you too.” Once they picked their jaws up off of their desks, I asked, “What are you going to do about it?”
We established a few parameters, discussed possible learning goals, and students set out to identify and solve one of the many problems they are inheriting from us (e.g., environment, political strife, human rights issues, equity). Almost immediately my students were engaged and motivated and there it was: inquiry, empowerment, and authentic learning.
I hear handcuffs rattling.
Naturally, whenever life learning like this happens, it puts me behind any traditional instructional schedules, but thankfully it also allows instruction to happen much more effectively over the remaining months of our year. That’s right officer, it’s spelled G-O-U-R-L-E-Y
My students are going to learn that I care about them long before ever being expected to care about what I know or have to teach. If that means shaping the curriculum around them first rather than bending them around the curriculum, so be it. I know I’m not the only one. Have I mentioned that it’s about relationships first?
I have an accomplice.
In his 2017 TEDxKitchenerEd Talk, Andrew Campbell shares a very informed opinion about why he meets his students at the door every morning. And it’s not to check whether they’ve completed their homework. Campbell eloquently meshes his TEDx Talk with complete emphasis on connecting with his students. In it, he shares how his students changed his outlook after a tragic event involving a student in their class. He shares;
“the most important thing I can do as a teacher are the relationships I form with my students and the relationships I help them form with others. When the students come to me in the morning, I don’t know what they’re coming from or what they’re carrying. And when they leave at the end of the day, I don’t know what they’re walking into.”
There is no doubt that all students who pass through Andrew’s classroom door are welcome and valued regardless of the fact he is not a fan of well planned lessons. Imagine the power and potential in the simple act of meeting students at the door with a smile and a kind word? That is a “noble purpose.”
I knew there was another recidivist out there. Are you one too?
Elementary Report Cards … the mere mention of report cards can send some teachers into anxious ridden days and sleepless nights. Even after 17 years of writing elementary report cards, I anticipated that my levels of anxiety would be non-existent but, no, for me, the thought of report card writing still stresses me out. I know of some colleagues who are so anxious about report card writing, that they had to seek medical support.
The source of this anxiety is embedded in inconsistencies in how report card policy is implemented. And the source of the inconsistencies is rooted in the process of educational policy implementation. With each level of educational policy implementation gatekeepers, such as boards of education, superintendents, schools, administrators, and classroom teachers, all interpret and change the policy based on their own context and their own perspectives (Ball, Maguire, & Braun, 2012).
As report card policy initiatives are translated into real life, the policy stakeholders, like administrators and teachers, adapt and reinvent their interpretation of the policy into school contexts. Since the education policy guidelines tend to be abstract and non specific, confusion and disjointedness results (Ball, 1993), and teachers end up decoding and recoding the policy text such as the reporting policy, Growing Success (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010). Even with the well written Growing Success document (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010), the process of understanding and translating report card policy can result in various degrees of intentional and unintentional interpretations (Fuhrman, Clune, & Elmore, 1991). Or, in other words, there are inconsistencies in report card policy implementation. Competing theories between policy authors (i.e., governments and school boards) and report card implementers (i.e., principals and teachers) can cause conflicts between the vision of policy and the practice of policy (Timperley & Parr, 2005). This can result in gatekeepers’ experiencing “most carefully planned” initiatives unfolding in a “non-linear manner” (Timperley & Robinson, 2000, p. 47).
This policy implementation process results in the practice of report card writing that look different from the vision of the report card policy writers. Therefore, because of this flux, report card formats and content can change from school board to school board, school to school, year to year, administrator to administrator, and sometimes even term to term (Note: this is strictly based on my own experience over 17 years). As noted earlier, at every level of implementation, each person put their own spin on the policy. The result is that teachers have to deal with changing report card writing expectations. Inconsistencies directly result in teachers having to spend a great deal of time trying to meet the expectations of different stakeholders. Teachers then have to use their professional judgement to interpret these expectations.
The document Growing Success (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 152) states “ Judgement that is informed by professional knowledge of curriculum expectations, context, evidence of learning, methods of instruction and assessment, and the criteria and standards that indicate success in student learning. In professional practice, judgement involves a purposeful and systematic thinking process that evolves in terms of accuracy and insight with ongoing reflection and self-correction.”
Further, Growing Success states that “successful implementation of policy depends on the professional judgement of educators at all levels, as well as on educators’ ability to work together” (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 2). It is through educators’ collaboration that educational change becomes reality; it is how policy becomes practice. “Teachers’ professional judgements are at the heart of effective assessment, evaluation, and reporting of student achievement.” (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 8). So teachers, working with other stakeholders, using their professional judgement need “to clarify and share their understanding of policy and to develop and share effective implementation practices” (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 2).
Below is a breakdown of the Growing Success policy based on areas I have needed information on while writing report cards. This is not an exhaustive list. Please refer to the documents noted below for further information.
The Growing Success document notes the following “It is important that teachers have the opportunity to compose and use personalized comments on report cards as an alternative to selecting from a prepared set of standard comments. School boards should not enact policies that prevent teachers from providing personalized comments on report cards. It is expected that principals will support best practice and encourage teachers to generate their own comments.” (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2010, p. 64)
Given the focus of encouraging “teachers to generate their own comments”, having a bank of pre-approved board-wide report card comments available to elementary teachers may or may not be forthcoming.
After the above analysis and reflection regarding report card writing and professional judgement, I ask myself “What has helped me the most in report card writing?”
My answer is collaborating with other teachers. It is in the discussion, co-creating, and sharing of report card comments that I have been supported the most in my writing of the Progress, Term 1, and Term 2 report cards. For me, sharing report card comments does not mean that I simply “cut and paste” my colleagues’ work. This does not happen because I write comments through the lens of my own teaching practice. My colleagues’ shared learning skill comments often inspire me to write comments especially for challenging students.
In writing report cards, I use my professional experience and knowledge that has resulted in the development of my professional judgement. So my advice to any teacher who is being challenge in report card writing is to reach out to your colleague … for advice, support, or debate.
I believe that when working collaboratively, teachers are better together … especially when writing report cards.
Collaboratively Yours,
Deb Weston
References
Ball, S. (1993). What is policy? Texts, trajectories, and toolboxes. Discourse, 13(2), 10-17.
Ball, S. J., Maguire, M., & Braun, A. (2012). How schools do policy: Policy enactments in secondary schools. New York, NY: Routledge.
Elementary Teachers Federation of Ontario. (ETFO). (2016). The elementary provincial report card continued implementation update – Grades 1 to 8, Professional Relations Services, PRS, Volume #66, January 2016. Retrieved from http://www.etfo.ca/SupportingMembers/Employees/PDF%20Versions/The%20Elementary%20Provincial%20Report%20Card%20Continued%20Implementation%20Update%20-%20Grades%201%20to%208.pdf
Fuhrman, S., Clune, W., & Elmore, R. (1991). Research on education reform: Lessons on the implementation of policy (pp. 197-218). AR Odden, Education Policy Implementation. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Ontario Ministry of Education. (2000). The Ontario Student Record (OSR) Guideline, Retrieved from http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/document/curricul/osr/osr.pdf
When I first began teaching, over 20 years ago, I spent a lot of personal money on “resources”. In teacher’s college I worked part time at The Teacher’s Store and spent the majority of my paycheque on black line master books, “units” and teacher’s guides, which took up space on my book shelves and in large plastic totes in my basement. Now I can access free downloads, use Teacher’s Pay Teachers, Twitter, Pinterest or any number of educator websites. It is difficult to deny that the use of technology is a huge part teaching. I access the curriculum documents online on a regular basis. In fact, I don’t even own a paper copy of the curriculum documents. Attendance, IEPs and report cards are now web-based. Student portfolios are digital and parent communication is mostly electronic. We communicate with our staff on Edsby and post our students’ triumphs using digital platforms such as Seesaw. When I am away from school for the day, I book an occasional teacher online and send in my plans via email. As a parent, I pay for my son’s school trips online. Almost everything we do in education seems to involve technology in some way. It makes our job so much easier! Doesn’t it?
Herein lies the rub. As wonderful and “easy” as it all is, digital information and communication can also be suffocating. For example, it is easy to ask a question of a colleague in my large school something by email or text and get an answer in seconds without having to take ten minutes to walk to his or her classroom. However, it also may mean that I won’t see my colleague all week. It is easy for a upset parent to send an email in the middle of the weekend and then I stew about it until I can take care of it when I am back at school on Monday. It is easy to spend hours following the trail down an internet rabbit hole trying to find the “perfect” lesson plan. It is easy to look at examples of art lessons on websites like Pinterest and then feel inadequate as an educator because mine didn’t go quite according to plan. It is easy to send an email in the middle of the weekend, just to get it done, when I should be spending time with my family. It is easy to get into a chat on Twitter with educators around the world and learn all kinds of cool stuff, and then realize that I have missed going to the gym…again. Digital information and communication is never done. There is always something to check or answer or post. Yes, I admit that it is a little ironic that I am writing this on a blog post, but wait…here’s why.
I have decided to try a few things so that digital information and communication will not suffocate me. I have created “office hours” for communication. I have told the families of my students that I will only respond to emails or messages on Edsby or Seesaw between the hours of 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. Monday to Friday. If I take the time to communicate something to families outside of office hours, then I will draft it and save it and send it during office hours. If there is something urgent, families are instructed to call the school. I have turned off notifications of email on my phone. I no longer go on Pinterest and have stopped going on Twitter. I will only check Edsby once a day. If there is something of urgent importance, I have no doubt that someone will find me and let me know. My students will update their own digital portfolios. I am going to try to be mindful of the amount of time I engage in digital communication and information for my job in order to maintain a healthy work-life balance. It will take some practice and I’m sure that I will find myself getting into some old habits. However, my mantra this year for my class is also for me…strive for growth and progress, not perfection.
As a new elementary teacher, I believed I would really know what I was doing after 5 years of practice. After 5 years in my previous careers, I could handle just about anything. I had 8 years experience as a student in elementary school. And, yes, I had watched my elementary teachers teach. I thought, “How hard can it be?” I figured after 5 years of teaching, working long hours after and on weekends, I’d be able to relax a bit.
But back then, I was very naive.
There was a lot about teaching I did not know or even consider. I did not count on having to switch grade levels every year for the first 5 years of my practice. I thought I’d have readily available teacher resources. I did not know that teachers spent a great deal of their own money to stock their classrooms with supplies and books. Nor did I realize I would be expected to implement waves of educational initiatives within a year of introduction. Further, I had not considered having students functioning at grade levels below the grade I was teaching or dealing with special education needs with little or no support. In addition, I did not know how to deal with students who had behaviour issues – in my first week of teaching grade 8, a student threw a chair at me. I also was hoping to get support and mentorship from my teacher colleagues, which at the time was not always forthcoming. My teacher education had not prepared me for all of this.
So I pushed forward by working hard and doing the best for my students. I took courses that I thought would fill in some gaps, which helped a bit. I solicited curriculum support from my colleagues and spent a great deal of time talking to my peers about my classroom challenges. My colleagues were very helpful and I absorbed as much wisdom as I could from my tenured peers.
Then it happened. I hit “The 5 Year Wall”. After 5 years of teaching, I thought I’d know more and feel more effective in my practice. I thought my lesson plans should be going the way I planned them. I thought that my classroom management would be awesome by this time. Instead, I was left with feelings of frustration and dissatisfaction in myself as a teacher. I thought, maybe if I worked harder, I would feel more effective; I was so disappointed in myself.
But because I was very committed and dedicated to becoming a great teacher, I moved forward facing many challenges. I continued to seek support and mentorship from my colleagues. My collaborative collegial support proved to have the biggest impact on my practice. My colleagues saved me from my professional dissolution.
Then something else happened. Around my 7th and 8th year of teaching, I started to feel my levels of self-efficacy and self-confidence rising. I started to finally feel like I knew what I was doing … most of the time. At 7+ years of teaching, I still faced challenges with switching grades. I realized that educational initiatives did not always stick. Lack of continued resource support or the introduction of a “new” initiative, often meant the end to last year’s latest innovation. Having students with multiple functioning levels and needs was a classroom norm. My teacher skin grew thicker when dealing with student and parent issues. I realized that lesson plans were made to be adapted to address the students’ needs, not the teachers. After 8 years of practice, I really started to enjoy teaching.
While researching, I discovered that my experience of building professional confidence and self-efficacy was supported in the literature. In the British VITAE study of 300 teachers in 100 schools, authors Day, Sammons, Stobart, Kingston, and Gu (2007) showed that teachers’ levels of confidence and self-efficacy continue to grow until around the 7 year mark. After 8 years, teachers reached a significant turning point in their professional development (Day et al., 2007).
I thought about what made this 7 year mark so significant. Then a friend mentioned that in the book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell stated that in order to master any skill it takes “to a large extent, a matter of practicing … for a total of around 10,000 hours” (Gladwell, 2008). I did the calculations and the 7 year mark correlated with about 10,000 hours of teaching practice. This made sense because teaching is a complex and challenging profession and as a result it takes over 7 years to develop high levels of professional efficacy. Further to this, as teachers’ professional knowledge grows, so does their professional judgement.
Well into my 8th year of teaching I noticed several new teachers experiencing high levels of professional frustration. Some of these teachers were so distressed they regretted becoming teachers. Some were thinking of leaving the profession. Remembering my own frustration, I reached out to my novice colleagues. I told them about The 5 Year Wall. In my following years of teaching, I have talked many novice teachers off the ledge of The 5 Year Wall. Sometimes there were tears. Sometimes there were daily pep talks. Sometimes there were weekly meetings at a well known coffee shop. After my years of collegial mentorship and support, my colleagues have become excellent teachers.
So if a new teacher talks to you about their professional frustration, tell them about The 5 Year Wall. Tell them to hang in for the next few years so they can reach their professional turning point in year 8. Support them with your mentorship and listen to their concerns. Because in isolation, there are no colleagues to inspire novice teachers with ideas or to suggest resources/strategies or to support them when it’s really needed. And even as an 18 year plus teacher, I thank my colleagues for all the mentorship, collaboration, and support they continue to give me, every day.
I believe that when working collaboratively, teachers are better together.
Collaboratively Yours,
Deb Weston
References
Day, C., Sammons, P., Stobart, G., Kingston, A., & Gu, Q. (2007). Teachers matter: Connecting lives, work and effectiveness. Maidenhead, UK: Open University
Gladwell, M. (2008). Outliers: The story of success. Hachette UK.
