App Review: Free “LocatED” app is the tool educators have been waiting for.

This spring, a new app for educators launched, quietly transforming the ease with which educators can now reach out for help or advice in specific areas or share innovative ideas with others looking to improve their practice, school, or overall organization.

LocatED’s concept and structure are both uncomplicated, which is part of what makes this the best tool for connected educator hopefuls. Most who are hesitant to engage on Twitter beyond “lurker” status feel that way because it’s so public. Reaching out for help from a specific educator on Twitter means the entire Twitter-verse sees the attempt, which makes a lot of users apprehensive who genuinely want to connect. That’s not the fault of Twitter. While it’s been adopted by educators as “the place” to connect and it’s a great tool for leading, learning, and sharing, it wasn’t created specifically for educators. Luckily, LocatED was.

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LocatED’s Purpose

The importance of connecting with other educators in the 21st century can’t be overstated. LocatED aims to make connecting easy so that “innovation can take root and grow in our schools.” Even in the most collaborative of environments, teachers often feel bound by the constraints of their schedules and school days, but LocatED breaks down the walls of a school so that teachers can implement better practices for students regardless of geographical access to resources or experts.

Ease of Use

The app is comprised of two main features, which are the key to its practicality but also its usability.

 

For teachers who are looking to collaborate outside of their districts with experts in a multitude of topics — some of which include 21st Century Learning, Innovative Teaching/Learning, Professional Development and Instructional Coaching — Locate Guidance offers a quick click to an experienced practitioner in the user’s area of interest/need. After selecting “Locate Guidance” from the home screen, users are asked to select the skill and then ask their question. Upon clicking “submit,” the user is directed to a list of potential educator matches in that area of expertise, and by clicking on that user, your question is delivered to them through the messaging function of the app.

What separates the Locate Guidance feature (and the LocatED app in general) apart from other social media tools used by educators is that people are there to both learn AND provide advice, so when you reach out, you’re not reaching out blindly in hopes that someone experienced will answer; you’re being directed to a targeted, expert audience that you otherwise wouldn’t have known existed. There is no lengthy search to find someone who can help because the match is made for you. In my short time as a user, I’ve reached out for guidance three times, and each time I’ve received a timely and helpful response, even though the experts were total strangers to me before our LocatED interaction.

“Locate Innovative Ideas” is the second feature, and is comparable to an Instagram feed. The best part about this feature is that people can filter for ideas in certain categories or browse the entire feed for inspiration.

Users can search by keyword (i.e. subject area or grade level) or filter by the aforementioned categories like Professional Development or 21st Century Learning. Adding an idea to share in the stream is as simple as posting to Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat: Users click the plus icon and add a picture of their idea in action, a quick description, and then select applicable categories before submitting. Other users can like and comment, which adds another opportunity to connect with educators with similar interests or varied skills.

Free with no strings attached

Education is changing more rapidly now than probably ever before, and as states and districts continue to strive to meet the needs of developing staff and providing quality 21st century learning experiences to students while fighting shrinking budgets, LocatED brings together experts and learners in one, easy-to-access location. The developer, Joanna Carroll, started the app as a Google Innovator project, and is committed to keeping the app free for educators — always. While ads are present in the app and are noticeable and applicable to users, they are unobtrusive so as not to interfere with the user experience. In all aspects, LocatED has been created for the needs of the user, and as its reach spreads, it will likely become the go-to virtual meeting place for educators.

LocatED is available for free download in the App Store and Google Play.

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We Need to Treat Education More Like a Garden

On top of teaching full time and raising two curious, active kids (with another joining us in August!), my husband and I also raise chickens and bees and have a pretty substantial garden. Each year, we add more fruit trees, more blueberry bushes, and expand our vegetable section, and every year, I question if we have the energy or sanity left to keep up with it all. But somehow, every year, it gets better and easier to manage — maybe despite or perhaps because of its size. We know that if we’re going to make it bigger and better for our family, we have to find new and better ways of managing growth, weeds, watering, and harvesting the fruits (and vegetables) of our labor.

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In so many ways, managing this garden is like managing a classroom.

You can’t force a plant to grow in conditions that aren’t suitable for that plant.

I have always loved the quote by Alexander den Heijer: “When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.”  It seems obvious in relation to teaching, and yet every time I read it, it carries new weight for me, both as a teacher and as a parent.

I recently read an article on NPR about a new book by psychology and philosophy professor Alison Gopnik titled The Gardener and the Carpenter. I’ve not yet read the book, but it’s in my Amazon cart because of this description from Sasha Ingber’s NPR article:

“The “carpenter” thinks that his or her child can be molded. “The idea is that if you just do the right things, get the right skills, read the right books, you’re going to be able to shape your child into a particular kind of adult,” she says.

The “gardener,” on the other hand, is less concerned about controlling who the child will become and instead provides a protected space to explore. The style is all about “creating a rich, nurturant but also variable, diverse, dynamic ecosystem.

When I think about those concepts as a teacher, I realize how much I want to be a gardener in my classroom. I think that helping kids find their purpose is the most important thing we can do in schools. Purpose is about finding your place in the world and living your passion, and I can’t give that to a child. What I can do is provide opportunities for kids to find that for themselves in a classroom that supports ALL learners, whatever their current talents and interests.

One of my students, at the end of the year, shared with me that the best thing I did for her and her classmates this year was to give them the space and responsibility to “figure it out.” She said that at some point, there would be a time I wouldn’t be there to answer a question or tell her what to do, and she felt confident now that she had the skills to make good decisions and find the answers she’d need. All I did was provide the soil, water, and sun. She did the growing herself. What more could I want for my students?

You can’t rush (and you shouldn’t want to):

Last night was our first night of a summer that will be filled with picking blueberries, and the thought crossed my mind that it would be so much easier if all the blueberries ripened at the same time. There would be no hunting for the bluest ones through the leaves, I could grab whole bunches at a time, and while it would take more time at once, ultimately, I’d spend fewer hours picking in the heat.

I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.

As educators, we often have this same thought, both as administrators and teachers. It would be easy if everyone “got it” at the same time and in the same context, but it’s not the way it works, and quite honestly, we shouldn’t want it to work that way.

I’m a firm believer that everyone hears a message at the time they need to hear it — or in some cases, when the world needs them to hear it. We don’t know how a stream of thinking will trigger new ideas in another person, and so it’s not only natural for people to learn in different ways, it’s also necessary if we want new, powerful ideas to keep pushing our world forward.

My blueberries get different amounts of water and sun simply because of their circumstance and when each one was pollinated by our bees, but each one will be delicious in its own time, and I’ll be glad to still have fresh blueberries at the beginning of August so that my kids and I can make delicious recipes all summer long. The beauty is not in the ease of the task; the beauty is in the process toward the ultimate outcome.

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If you hover, you block the sunlight.

William Ferriter wrote a really meaningful post recently about helicopter teaching, and how it “strips agency away from the kids in our care, and that’s NOT a good thing.” I am inclined to agree. No, I’m not suggesting we remove all structure and oversight, but I am suggesting that we let kids choose their paths to proficiency and excellence because if we don’t, they won’t know how to acquire new skills when their formal education ends. We might, in fact, be stifling their growth.

In short, channel your inner Elsa and let it go.

I don’t know a single adult who believes they stopped learning when they left school, but I do know a lot of adults who feel like they didn’t learn how to learn while they were in school, and to me, that’s not a problem with those adults; instead, it’s a problem with prescriptive education that assumes all kids can learn in the same way at the same time with the same methods.

If we’re standing over our kids telling them how to do every. single. thing, they can’t stretch to the sun and grow greater than we imagine for them. We need to guide them but also know when to walk away and let them shine. In that same respect, I don’t plant my garden in full shade or full sun. It needs a good amount of both to flourish.

You have to try new things to find better things.

The first year we lived in Illinois and planted our garden, it was a total disaster. We couldn’t keep up with the weeds, everything was totally overgrown, the Japanese beetles took over, and we eventually let the chickens pick through the whole thing.

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This is my oldest with her hens the year the garden went to the chickens.

The next year, we had a choice: We could give up and miss out on the incredible harvest we’d been accustomed to in Texas, we could do it the same way and hope for a better outcome (which is just crazy), or we could try something new knowing we couldn’t be any worse off than we had been the year before. So each year, we’ve taken away something that didn’t work and replaced it with something new that we’ve read online or watched on YouTube. Two weeks ago, my husband looked at our garden and then at me and said, “Did we finally figure this out?” Three years after our initial attempt, we feel confident we’ve found some tried and true tricks, but we also know we’re never done improving, and as climate and pests change over time, we’ll have to keep evolving in our practice, too.

Education is no different. If you always do it the way you’ve always done it, you’re not ensuring success, even if those practices have garnered success for your students in the past. Kids change. Times change. Cultures change. We have to adapt with all of it if we want kids to have long-term success, which is to say that they become lifelong lovers of learning and creating rather than passive consumers of information they don’t quite know how to use for themselves.

Education can’t be a K-12 endeavor where we attempt to manufacture a product to send it out into the world, hoping it won’t malfunction. In that scenario, we’re asking for problems down the line. Instead we’ve got to plant seeds and then help them grow, providing water when it doesn’t rain, and helping the stems stabilize until they can withstand the wind and grow stronger on their own. Eventually, a healthy plant makes its own seeds and grows a harvest more plentiful than one could ever hope to produce.

The equation I was missing

Reflection is an important component of quality teaching. As preservice teachers, we are trained to think deeply about our emerging and improving practice, all with the expectation that the emphasis on that act will not only become habit, but also will serve as a continuous springboard for growth and change; the intention is not simply to think about it, but also to act on it.

Really, reflection should be ReflAction — reflection + action.

That seems simple enough: think about it and then make a change based on your observations and data. As a preservice and first year teacher, I felt pretty confident in my ability to do that. My mentors told me it was clear I was thinking about my choices and then adjusting based on what I thought was needed. Often, they felt my adjustments helped student learning. Woo! ReflAction expert: check?

Not so much. There was one major problem: I was alone in that RelfAction. I was doing the deep thinking. I was doing the changing — and I was doing it based on “student data,” which told me what kids knew or didn’t know based on what I just taught, but left out why each of them didn’t learn it. I would argue the second entity is just as important, if not more, than the first.

Missing from my ReflAction were the same things missing from my practice: student voice, true student choice, and empowerment. When I started giving the kids a major voice in their learning and asking them for their honest feedback with explanations (and then taking their advice as often as I could), my practice improved in ways I could have never previously imagined because it stopped being my practice — what I needed. Instead, it got to be our practice. What we needed. Together.

Sometimes educators get nervous about giving voice and choice to kids, both in learning and ReflAction. We sometimes fear that means we’re not needed or that we’ll lose any semblance of order. Sometimes we’re scared to hear the reasons kids are struggling in our classes. Those are real fears, and I understand them, but I also think that again, in those concerns, we’re only focused on the teacher. And what I know now that I didn’t know two years ago is that the magic doesn’t happen until we’re a team. The reward I feel as a teacher and the reward a student feels in authentic learning doesn’t happen much without the empowerment. On top of that, kids don’t learn to be self-driven and reflective in their learning if we haven’t made that part of the process for them. Isn’t that the goal?

Reflection(with kids) + Action(with kids) = Magic

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Be the Change for Kids #IMMOOC

The other day, my mom called my daughters and they couldn’t stop staring at the black screen. “Where’s Nana?” they asked. “We can’t see her!” Facetime is their normal. Connection no matter the distance is their expectation. I couldn’t have imagined that as a two or five year old, but I am so thankful that when we lived thousands of miles away from our families, my kids were still able to see and know them with so much ease. This new and better way of communication provides an opportunity for deeper relationships that didn’t exist before.

By George’s definition, innovation is making something new and better, and it is my job as a teacher to learn and try new and better ways to make learning more accessible, applicable, and meaningful to my students and their realities. But I think the real takeaway from this week’s YouTube Live with Jo Boaler is that the process of innovation in the classroom is the part that’s most important, and it’s important for two reasons.

  1. Innovation leads to failure, which leads to deeper learning.  Jo explained that when we fail, our brains actually grow more than when we get an answer “right” or succeed, so we’re learning more from a failure than from a success, and that failure can push us to a more complete understanding and more probable success in the future (not to mention the ability to see a problem from multiple perspectives). It helps us change the narrative that failure is to be avoided, but instead is meant to be celebrated as a springboard for success.  Isn’t that what we want for our kids: to be motivated, learn from their choices, and ultimately be successful and fulfilled in their lives? Isn’t that what we want for ourselves?
  2. Modeling the process makes them more comfortable as reflective learners. Designing new and better ways of learning for my students and sharing that learning (i.e. my planning, experiments, failures, adjustments, successes, and reflections) with them not only provides more opportunities for them to learn content and 21st century skills, but more importantly, it provides them a model for engaging in the process of innovation/learning that they can improve upon and take with them to use for the rest of their lives. Innovation doesn’t just make new and better things; it makes better people.

My favorite part of Jo’s talk was when she said that “learning something new changes your identity.” Of course, I want my students to learn to read and write, but what I really want is to teach them how to be empathetic, thoughtful, engaged, open-minded, and accepting humans through the things we read and write together. I want them to see the struggles of others and jump up to help. I hope for them to solve the problems of the world even if some of those problems don’t affect them very much or at all. I want them to feel deeply that they are needed in this world because so many of them don’t see that yet. A multiple choice test isn’t going to accomplish or even slightly contribute to those goals, but giving them opportunities to impact others in their community and beyond with their thoughts and their words will. Innovation will help them to change their identities for the better. And I know this because that’s what it’s done for me and for every other educator I’ve met who has grown passionate about improving their practice for kids.

Is it always easy? Absolutely not. I will never forget a lesson I planned after starting the first round of #IMMOOC when my seventh graders nearly revolted because I let them choose their path to the product. Some of them instantly valued the newfound freedom that Jo explained this week that teachers and kids all want, and in time, all of them grew to appreciate and crave this type of learning. But kids are the easiest to win over because it’s their education and learning. They are the primary stakeholders. Adults are not as easy, and I continue to have colleagues, friends, parents, and even strangers challenge my change in practice. Not everyone will see the value, and that’s okay, but we have to keep in mind that it is the kids who matter. We got into education to make a positive difference in kids’ lives. It’s absolutely crucial to them that we follow through.

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photo from wikimedia commons

#IMMOOC: The gift that keeps on giving

In my relatively short teaching career, I’ve experienced a lot of changes. Before I was certified, I taught a reading lab at a university in Tennessee, then became certified in Texas, and early in my first year teaching there, I found out my husband had received orders to Illinois. When I started teaching here in the Land of Lincoln, I can’t tell you how many times I said both to myself and to others that I was thrilled not to have to undergo any major changes for a while. Little did I know the biggest changes were yet to come.

Fast forward a year. Our district Instructional Technology Director, Joanna (@joannacarroll96), came into my room raving about this new book The Innovator’s Mindset. She said just reading the intro gave her chills. I believed her, but also believed that if I took on one more work-related thing either my head was going to explode or I might have to reconsider my career choice. It sounded like a great book, but I filed it away into the folder in my mind labeled “Hope to get to; probably won’t.”

Joanna is persistent, though, and she’s good at her job. She made sure to mention it periodically, and when the author, George Couros (@cgouros), announced that he and Katie Martin (also amazing – follow her at @katiemartiedu) would be moderating on open, online course about the book, she not-so-subtly encouraged me to do it with her. I’d join and lurk, I decided, but it only took half of the first chapter to realize that I wasn’t going to be a lurker.

The last week of the #IMMOOC, I blogged that the end was really just the beginning. In that post, I reflected on the change I experienced over those few weeks:

Over the last few weeks, I have noticed a huge change in myself, both as a person and as an educator. It is amazing what fueling your passion can do for all aspects of your life. I have had more energy for my family, for my students, and for myself, and it hasn’t been an energy burst — like the kind I need for a week or two when I have a lot going on. That type of energy isn’t sustainable, and when the busy weeks are over, you’re left feeling empty — drained. The energy I feel now fills me up and keeps me constantly pushing for more. If I was asked to explain what innovation does for a person, that is how I would describe it: fulfilling in innumerable ways.

I had been so worried about what the book study might take away form me: time and energy. Instead, it only gave: fuel for my passion, permission and encouragement to be the educator I’d been fighting to be, a growing PLN to learn from and share with, and an energy I’d never known before. And those gifts keep on giving a year later. Before beginning, the thought of one more change in my life exhausted me. After five short weeks, this was what I had to say about change:

Sometimes we are scared to change our ways for fear that that means we’ve been doing it “wrong,” when in reality, we need to see every iteration of what we do as a step towards something better, even if that something better is always changing. That doesn’t mean we’re “throwing out the book” of our past experiences and successes. It just means that the book is a living document and we get to add to it all the time.

I’m not exaggerating when I say The Innovator’s Mindset and #IMMOOC changed my life, and minus the cost of the book, it’s FREE! If you’re even considering signing up, please read Annick Rauch’s post about what the book study entails (and to answer your question: Yes, I “met” her through #IMMOOC!). If you’re ready, you can go straight to the sign up!

And if you do sign up, please comment to this post or tweet me @MrsKrolicki_phs with your Twitter handle and blog so that I can follow you! I can’t wait to get started on round 3 with you!

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Technology isn’t the problem. We might be.

I realize that title sounds harsh, but the experience I’m about to relay highlights the unintended (and kind of terrifying) lessons we might be teaching our students, not just about technology, but also about life.

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A week and a half ago, George Couros, author of The Innovator’s Mindset and The Principal of Change blog came to speak at Peoriapalooza, the Peoria County teacher’s institute. Somewhere in his speech, he mentioned a school where access to online resources was so locked-down that the teachers went to the students constantly to access useful content from which they were restricted. Everyone laughed because: #truth.

Except that when it happened to me this week, I wasn’t laughing at all.

This past Friday, my kids edited an uncapitalized, unpunctuated version of this Dear John” letter as an anticipatory set to help them see purpose in punctuation for meaning. They loved it, grappling especially when they finally figured out how to make it a love letter, and I explained that now, they’d need to make it a break up letter. Their wide eyes and dropped jaws let me know that they didn’t see how ONLY changing punctuation and capitalization could make this happen. “We can’t rearrange or delete words?!” They didn’t think it was possible, but they figured it out, and all agreed that punctuation could be a game-changer. Of course, I was on cloud nine: the hook had worked!

The next part of the lesson was a content primer, so I had shared Terisa Folaron’s “Comma Story” and three other videos about sentence structure for a project my students are beginning. In slow waves as they finished notes on the first three videos, students started coming up to my desk to tell me the fourth one was blocked. Without thinking much about it (because this happens all the time), I e-mailed the link to our system administrator asking for it to be unblocked. But a few minutes later when they had just moved on to the next step, I wondered why they hadn’t used their usual tricks to get the blocked content.

My next two classes came in, and the same situation occurred. I let it unfold much the same, but when they started coming to my desk in the second class, I asked them to solve the problem. “Have you asked for it to be unblocked?” some asked. I had, I explained, but sometimes the system doesn’t update right away. They walked away and moved on to the next step.

When I finally asked if they knew how to get blocked YouTube videos, they all hesitated, but said that yes, they did. So if they knew of a tool to get content the school felt they shouldn’t be able to access, why wouldn’t they use that same tool to get content they knew their teacher had approved and wanted them to have? Cue the crickets.

I spoke to several groups of kids after that, and I’ve concluded that some of them didn’t use the tool to unblock the video was because they were scared to use it when they knew I was watching. They wanted to protect their tool so that they could continue to use it to get what they valued more: their music. And I can completely understand that thinking.

In far more cases, though, it never occurred to them to use it for class-related content, which to me, is the concerning part. Are we demonstrating through our actions that only pre-approved tools have value in our classroom rather than signalling that all tools can have impact while focusing on positive use? Will our kids leave our classrooms truly better for having transformative tools, or are our practices holding students back from life- and world-changing applications?

Have we inadvertently taught our kids that breaking the rules is reserved for what is deemed “wrong” or questionable  rather than for doing good or even just learning? I know we certainly haven’t meant to, but the consequences are still the consequences — intentional or not.

Hug your students

…or give them a high five. Or a fist-bump. Or a pat on the back.

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Every morning starts the same way for me. I drive my daughter and I to school, we drop my things in my room, and then I walk her over to her elementary school to begin her day. Then I walk back, smiling and wishing a good day to all the kids walking on the sidewalk or into their first classes. Somewhere in that routine every morning, I get a hug from at least one former student of mine. Every. Single. Day.

I feel like I need to stop to address the elephant in the room: Yes, I hug my students. If they ask for one, if they reach out, if they are crushed or sad and I have asked if they need one, I hug them. Sometimes it’s a high five (or an air high five) or a fist-bump or a pat on the back, but sometimes it’s a hug. I’m in the low-paying, high-need, extraordinarily rewarding, all-consuming, emotionally-draining, incredible business of education (aka relationships), and if a student asks for a hug, I won’t say no…

…because I don’t know what they just walked out of before they walked into my room.

…because some of them have told me that they hate the weekends because school is more stable than home.

…because it’s a compliment that they want to hug me.

…because they might not be able to remember the last time someone hugged, high-fived or fist-bumped them.

…because someday in the not-so-distant future, each and every one of these kids is going to leave our classroom and our school, and I want them to be kind, compassionate, empathetic humans who make others feel important and loved.

One day last year, one of my junior high students made an incredibly poor decision in the way he treated another student in our classroom when I was out for the day and had a sub. When I returned and heard about his behavior, my principal and I had a discussion with him that, although calmly delivered and threat-free, resulted in his breaking down in tears. Instinctively, I put my arm around his shoulder. In that moment, he was scared and he lied, but I stayed.

Later in the day, he came up to me and told me the truth: He had said the terrible things we asked him about, but he was scared to disappoint me any further than he already had. When he finally unloaded the real story, he said: “Thank you for comforting me even though you were disappointed in what I’d done and you knew I was lying. I just didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

That was the moment that I truly understood the power of a hug (or a high five or a smile or whatever you’re comfortable sharing with your kids to show them you care). It hadn’t even crossed my mind at the time, but what it showed my student was that he could count on me to be in his corner no matter what. I would continue to respect and care about him as he made mistakes and learned how to be a good person. I wouldn’t turn my back if he messed up; instead, I’d stand next to him and help him find a way to pick up the pieces.

In education, the importance of authenticity and relationships can’t be overestimated. If the kids know you care, their investment in your class increases. I share my faults with them, I admit when I’m wrong, and I apologize.. If I’ve learned anything from the educators I read and respect, it’s that the three most important aspects of education are relationships, relationships, and relationships.

I learned it from my favorite professor in my graduate program, Dr. Lynn Masterson at Texas Sate University, who modeled for us every day what a positive classroom culture and a culture of writing can do for students. I learned it further from Susan Shires, my cooperating teacher at Steele High School in Cibolo, Texas, who knew her students so completely and took the time to really know and invest in me. I continue to learn it every day from my current principal, Rich, who makes knowing kids and teachers his business, even when his other responsibilities as principal feel overwhelming. I learn it from people like George Couros, Adam Welcome, Todd Nesloney, Joy Kirr, and many more, who write incredible books and blogs that shift my perspective and strengthen my resolve to be the best teacher I can be for the students I serve.

And if you’re a friend, colleague, student, or acquaintance who has ever hugged me, know that you’ve impacted me positively through the care you’ve shown when I needed it. I appreciate you.

 

 

An open letter to my seventh graders after their standardized tests

My wonderful, unique, 7th grade humans:

Today you finished up your winter MAP test. It’s results are supposed to show your areas of strength and weakness, providing you and your teachers with valuable feedback regarding your instruction. Some of you were jubilant about meeting your goal and showing how much you have learned since September. Others of you made growth but felt self-conscious that you didn’t hit the goal you set for yourself, or worried that your score was “still too low.” And some of you didn’t “make growth” this time around. I watched your disappointed faces as you finished your tests, and I watched the confidence you’d built all year slowly dissipate because of this one number.

Now, I don’t know everything, but there are two things I do know for sure: 1) You are not defined by a number determined by the answers you select on a multiple choice test, and 2) You have made more growth these last few months than a test could ever begin to show you.

Let me start by explaining that you came to my classroom this year already wonderful. Your parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and family frieKids working.jpgnds and previous teachers who all play a role in making you the people that you are have done an outstanding job. You are kind, thoughtful, enthusiastic individuals. You have empathy, and when someone else is hurting, you do whatever it takes to help alleviate their pain. Do you know how incredible that is? So many adults struggle to be compassionate when someone else’s experience or background has been different from their own, but it seems to come so naturally to you. The resilience you show when something doesn’t go quite right the first time is so admirable, and you’ve taught me that — to never give up and to always come back stronger and with a new plan after a day that tests me.

 

And throughout this year, you have only become even more impressive learners and people. You’ve kept the empathy, generosity, and kindness you brought with you, but you’ve also become some of the greatest critical thinkers I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. When you write, you write about things that matter, not just to you, but also to your classmates and to me. You see the heart of a story, and you understand that writing isn’t meant to be formed from a prompt — it’s meant to deliver a message others need to hear: of hope, of change, of pain, of resilience, of love. All of you recognize that reading is a vehicle for exploring your passion, not a task of which the purpose is to determine your supposed ability.

You are not 210, 237, 205, 223, or 214. You are so much more than a score, and you are anything but average. You exceed my standards for what students should be every day. You take charge of your learning, inside the classroom and outside, and that motivation is the true determiner of success in life.

Keep striving to do well on these tests. Knowing how to survive or thrive in tasks that feel overwhelming is such an important life skill to master. More importantly, though, continue mastering these most important traits: caring for others, loving yourself, engaging in respectful debate and discourse, and reading and writing to learn. Aristotle said that we are more than the sum of our parts. What you do with the skills you learn will always be more important than having the skills themselves.

Keep doing. Keep creating. Keep changing your world. And know that I am proud of you — each one of you.

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Image from flickr

Why blog?

This fall, I joined the Innovator’s Mindset MOOC after some serious urging by our district’s Instructional Tech Director. The facilitators of the MOOC encouraged participants to blog about their learning as they read and then share their posts and comment on others’. Even though I write constantly for myself and coach kids in writing every day, I was skeptical about taking the time to set up a blog and put my writing out there for others to read, use, and maybe even criticize. Wouldn’t writing in my notebook have the same reflective value? What could I have to say that someone else wasn’t already thinking?

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Two weeks into the course, I had a little chuckle to myself when I realized that I had gone against everything I knew about education when I doubted what blogging could do for me. I preach that learning is doing, and yet, I was hesitant to “do” blogging and see what I was capable of producing.

When I started reading others’ posts and receiving comments on mine, I realized that blogging isn’t about saying something that no one else had ever said or thought before; it is about connecting, relating, sharing, and growing. I think the whole point is to say what other people are feeling — to give voice to a common thought, issue, or concern — and then come together to share ways of improving.

This is why blogging is good for any subject, but especially education.

I have always felt that teaching can be isolating, which is ironic because I’m surrounded by people all day, and by nature, my job is pretty transparent. My administrators are in and out of my room all the time, and the kids share what is happening in all their classrooms. But there are not many opportunities for me to bounce my ideas off of other professionals and have a lengthy troubleshooting session during the school day.

It’s tough to match the quality of face time with a trusted colleague, but to be able to come home and fully process my thoughts, write them out, and then share with a wide audience of people as passionate about their work as I am is as close as I’ll probably ever get. Blogging is limitless. I can connect with any person who happens across my little corner of the internet, and if they share it online or even with a colleague, my corner gets a little bigger. Suddenly, my community isn’t just the people I try to squeeze in conversations with during the day; my community is a web of people that read what I share and share their thoughts for me to read, too.

In that way, blogging completely changes the way I reflect on my teaching. I teach my kids that writing is a way of learning, and again, it’s important for me to practice what I preach. In class, my students self-evaluate and peer-evaluate. They often say that hearing from other students helps them recognize things they wouldn’t have noticed before. Blogging does that for me, too. Reflective writing for myself is still really important, but like my students, I’m noticing that sharing it increases the benefits tenfold.  In the words of AJ Juliani, “When you write what your heart tells you it will always have a dual impact. The reflection impacts us personally, and also those who read it.”

 

A few months ago, I had countless reasons why I couldn’t blog. Now that it’s part of my practice, I can’t think of one.