YOᒐ

 

picture of a holiday JOY sign taken from behind so letters are shown in reverse
photo by author

No joy, no peace.
Know joy, know peace.
Perhaps this simplistic approach may lead some philosophers, I mean educators, to search for specific pieces of peace as part of putting their own life’s puzzle(s) together. Or maybe not. It’s good to have a choice in matters of this nature. 

As simple as the adapted axiom above reads, it becomes much more perplexing when, as, and if pondered.

Call it YOᒐ

So what happens when joy takes a holiday when doing the work that you love, and all that you are left with is its opposite? Without this becoming a full on self help post, I will attempt to work out my thoughts in the paragraphs below. 

At first blush, the answer comes with equal parts complexity, scheduled and unscheduled situations, and a litany of responses ranging from (over)reactionary to nuanced. I never said it was going to be easy, right. I also didn’t say it has to be difficult either. 

Finding our own versions of JOY while trying to avoid YOᒐ might as well be like trying to distil our own definition for the meaning of life. And you can’t use 42, Adams already gave us that one. What brings us JOY or YOᒐ is personal, elusive, and evolving. We are humans after all, and our tastes and needs are subject to change or be changed whether from inside or out? Joy will look different from one person to the next. One person’s perceived worst day ever, may only appear to someone else as an opportunity to gain knowledge and grow from the experience. 

The winter of my disco tents will lead to a rockin’ summer

Looking at JOY and YOᒐ as seasons instead of life sentences has been helpful for me. 

In fact it has become very clear that each and every day has the potential for us to take a time warped trip through the seasons complete with blizzards, droughts, refreshing rains, and warming sunlight. Whether we wither or weather the storms depends on first knowing who we are at the core and what emotional strengths we draw from to meet the demands of each day’s tempests.

Will I be ready with an umbrella for life’s downpours or will I be looking for towels because I left the windows down in my car? Will I be ready to shield myself with a supportive network of caring colleagues from the cold of self-doubt and discouragement when things are not working in the classroom or I am feeling unsure? Will I be ready with sunblock, glasses, and a hat to appreciate those warm days? How about you? With so much of our well being anchored in our mental health, it is crucial we know how to prepare and where to seek a proverbial shelter.

JOY is…

The feeling of sipping your coffee or tea when it is still hot, warm, or from the same day it was made. It is having all of your students in the classroom. It is a week of uninterrupted school life at the speed of learning. Joy is seeing the eyes of students light up when they accomplish a goal. Joy comes from having a purpose? Where it gets really good in our lives happens when we can combine what gives us joy, with what we love, with our purpose, and talents. This in essence is the Japanese concept of Ikigai.

For me, there is joy in knowing I am working in a space that I love and using the skills/gifts/scars/lessons thus far to occupy my place as an educator. Over the past 15+ years there has been far more JOY than YOᒐ too. It doesn’t mean that we are on easy street until our final days, but that each day we are presented with JOY or YOᒐ will be an opportunity to shine brightly or strengthen ourselves or one another.

As we navigate this season of low daylight and high workload, I just wanted to remind you all that you are purpose and passion in action. You are the light to so many even after the sun goes down. Thank you.

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.

 

thank you

It’s been a while since I’ve gushed, but as I was driving to school this week, I started thinking about ways I could show more gratitude for all of the good things that are happening in my professional life. This got me thinking about the staff at my school. In each aspect of the organization, there is much to be appreciated from our incredible office staff, caretakers, EAs, CYWs, DECEs, and admin. In that spirit, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Since this the core of readers of this blog are ETFO members, I will continue before the music plays me off and before being escorted off the stage. Here goes…

Thank you for putting in all the hours that make a difference in the
lives of learners before, during, and after school. 

Thank you for being the only smile that a child might see each day.
Thank you for being the hand that reaches out to a student who is feeling big feelings.
Thank you for being the one who comforts in times of uncertainty.
Thank you for being calm, considerate, and caring when things are not going well. 
Thank you for making sure that new kids feel welcome from the moment they
walk through your doorway. 

Thank you for teaching the basics.
Thank you for teaching the basics over and over again. 
Thank you for teaching the tough stuff.
Thank you for teaching the tough stuff over and over again.
Thank you for teaching morphemes, phonemes, and graphemes.

Thank you for providing accommodations regardless of identification(s) or not. 
Thank you for teaching number sense and problem solving,
and for teaching it over and over again. 
Thank you for extending due dates when needed,
and for allowing retests when things don’t go well the first time. 

Thank you for working hard over the summer to prepare for curriculum changes
even though you should be taking time to rest and recover from the prior year.

Thank you for teaching about truth before reconciliation. 
Thank you for ensuring that Asian and Pacific Islander (AAPI) and Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour (BIPOC) are represented in your instructional resources.
Thank you for reading culturally relevant stories that allow all students to see themselves within them.

Thank you for creating safe and engaging classrooms where everyone feels seen.
Thank you for ensuring that students feel seen and know that they matter.
Thank you for seeing that every learner is 10 out of 10 at something, 
and for helping them discover and develop their unique talents. 
Thank you for hosting a GSA meeting and for displaying a “safe space” sticker. 
Thank you for running clubs and coaching teams. 
Thank you for spending recess after recess sitting in your classroom so students can catch up on their work.
Thank you for making accommodations that support the faith expressions of learners. 

Thank you for helping each other out by sharing resources. 
Thank you for answering questions and offering guidance to those who have recently entered our wonderful profession. 

There is always time for gratitude in this profession and this is my chance to show my appreciation if I haven’t mentioned it enough above. Thank you for all you do. Will

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

All Good Things…

We’ve all heard the saying, “All good things must come to an end”.  Blogging for the Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning has been an honour and a learning experience. Starting in 2017, I wasn’t sure what I was walking into and yet, here we are in 2023 and I can honestly say that I have learned a great deal. This is my last year blogging for the Heart and Art and in this post, I will share some of what I have learned.

Black Women’s Voices Are Needed in Education

The title alone should suffice and really needs no explanation but I’m happy to go a little more in-depth. In June 2020, I wrote a post about Crazy Hair Day. In it, I shared personally about my hair journey and the number of Black women who reached out to share similar experiences and feelings around the day was shocking. Not because I saw myself as being the only one who experienced trauma in school related to hair but because there were so many and that in 2020, we still felt as though our voices and objections to these days were not being and continue to not be heard.

Black women have a lot to say in the world of education based on our lived experiences as students of the system and also as we navigate it as teachers. I believe that our experiences are unique and as we continue to have conversations related to equity, those experiences need to be heard and change needs to happen. While that post was written over 3 years ago and there were many conversations in schools happening around spirit days, I wonder what has changed. And that’s just one area that needs to be interrogated. How are Black women and their experiences in education being valued? There are certainly a number of policies that have been created and I’m interested in how that leads to action. 

Growing a Thicker Skin

Over the years, I’ve written a lot about work that I have done in the classroom. When I look back, it’s sometimes shocking to see what I have done in the past and how it’s no longer a practice that I would consider doing today. I’ve grown as an educator because of conversations I’ve had, books I’ve read and opportunities to reflect. 

Over the last couple of years, there have been people who have chosen to critique my work in public rather than having a conversation directly with me. While I know that my work is public and open to scrutiny as I post it, there are moments when it doesn’t sit right with me. It’s in times like these that I am learning to grow a thicker skin. It’s not that I’m above reproach but if you’re really interested in making me a better teacher, reach out. Share your incredible strategies and work with me. Comment on my post and let’s have a conversation. I sometimes find it interesting whose work gets critiqued and this is probably another reason why we might need to continue to listen to the voices of Black women.

Reflection in Practice is Essential

I mentioned before that there are some things that I have written about in the past that wouldn’t make the cut now. Blogging has etched these in my educational journey and I’m so grateful for it. I’ve seen ways in which I have grown over the years through reflection and it excites me. Taking time to be reflective and understanding ways in which I’ve needed to change my thoughts or actions has made me a better teacher. Teaching is a practice. In the words of Maya Angelou, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” We have so many opportunities to learn and grow in education. Let’s work towards doing better.

I look forward to what this year will bring in my blogging adventures. To those whom my work has impacted and whom I’ve had the privilege of meeting on this journey, thank you. Let’s have a great year!

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).

10 years later…

It is officially my tenth September starting the school year. I am so excited to blog once again this year and share the experiences from my grade 7/8 classroom. As I reflect on the past ten years, there are many things I have learned. Things I have stopped doing, continued doing and started doing. I have reflected on almost all of these in the past on this blog and enjoy reading old posts to see how far I have come.

Most importantly, I enjoy remembering why I got into this profession. I thought I would share that as my first post this school year.

Why Teaching is the best job on earth

Teaching is the best job on earth because I get to inspire and help students each day. That is something that means a lot to me because when I was in school, nobody ever did that for me. I used to get spoken to as a student if I was doing something wrong, not something right, which made me upset. Now that I am a teacher, I can make a difference in many ways. One way I would like to make a difference is by helping students with their mental health.

Mental health is so important because if students do not feel safe and happy, they cannot learn, so those are both needed in order to start teaching. That being said, it is easier said than done. It is important to spend the first few weeks of school helping everyone get to know each other and finding out what interests each student has. Then, you can begin teaching the curriculum. Thankfully, my school board created a wellness activity set for teachers to use in their classroom. We have over 100+ activities that foster a community in our classrooms and are encouraged to do one daily for the first six weeks of school. I have seen my class enjoy these activities and start to create friendships with students who they had not met before. Here are some of the activities we enjoyed the first eight days of school:

  • sharing about their identity
  • finding things that have in common/unique things within their seating group
  • two truths and a lie
  • sharing goals for the year
  • finding an inspirational quote that is meaningful to them
  • sharing one interesting fact about themselves

Another element about teaching I enjoy is coaching. I enjoy coaching because you get to see your students outside of the classroom, which for many is their favourite spot in the school. Coaching gives me a way to connect with students who may not build that connection inside the classroom. I also have always loved sports, so I enjoy coaching now that I do not play on as many teams as when I was younger. 

The last thing I love the most about teaching is creating leadership opportunities.  I have had many opportunities to be a leader and plan events as a teacher, so it is my turn to teach students how to create these events and help me run them. That way when they are older they can run them on their own. I am most excited for school spirit days, music events, sport events, Prom Project and more for the 2023/2024 school year.

Even though I could go on and on, I thought I would sum up my three favourite things about teaching so I can always reflect on these when I have a challenging day. I hope each and every one of my students find something that they are passionate about one day just as I have found. Ten years later, still loving this job!

Ontario’s Children: Our Hope & Light

Photo by RDNE

In the heart of young minds, a world unfolds,
Where seeds of change and justice are sowed,
Ontario’s children, our hope and light,
Embrace the path of equality, shining bright.

In elementary schools, a sacred space,
Where lessons weave a tapestry, embrace,
A tale of courage, empathy, and grace,
Of breaking chains, to reach a higher place.

In classrooms where the laughter rings,
A symphony of voices, diverse things,
Their innocence, a canvas so pure,
Where colours of acceptance shall endure.

Oh, let them learn of struggles faced,
Of heroes who, with love, embraced,
The fight against oppression’s might,
To carve a future that’s just and right.

Teach them the power of unity,
That strength resides in diversity,
No voice too soft, no heart too small,
To stand for justice, one and all.

As whispers of the past float by,
Lessons of history, they can’t deny,
The pain of prejudice, we must reveal,
To kindle empathy, foster what’s real.

To understand the wounds that scar,
And strive to heal, near and far,
In this young realm, we plant the seed,
Of anti-oppression, urgent need.

In every story shared and heard,
A tapestry of humanity is stirred,
To weave compassion into the core,
And let injustice exist no more.

For as they learn with open hearts,
A world of change, this love imparts,
A generation, bold and wise,
Embracing truth, no compromise.

Ontario’s children, a beacon strong,
In their hearts, a justice song,
They’ll rise above, lift others high,
A future bright beneath the sky.

So let us teach with love and care,
Anti-oppression, always aware,
In elementary schools, the power resides,
To shape a world where all love abides.

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