The Dragonfly Notebook

In my summer of purging, I came across the Dragonfly notebook. This was an idea from my friend Wendy. All the students had a composition book to decorate with a variety of pictures I provided, or they found themselves. Then we covered them with contact paper. These books were sturdy and provided writing practice and lessons. I first used this in the 2014-15 school year, when my teaching load was much lighter than it would eventually become—47 students total, all struggling readers. This notebook was how I demonstrated writing poetry and short answer responses. And it went beyond that first year, as there are things dated all the way to 2017. It was my “go-to” when I wanted kids to see how I puzzled through writing or breaking down text, and sometimes it was when we did things together. 

I found some poems in the book that I decided to share here. I consider this notebook a keeper, since it has a lot of easy and powerful ideas I don’t always remember to use. Below you will find some poems that were in the book, things I modeled or perhaps the class wrote together, I'm not sure. Anyway, I found them delightful, and hope you will as well.

The front

The back

*First is the poem that puzzles me as to its origin. It seems to be following a specific pattern, but I have no clue what I was modeling it after. 

Inspiration surprises me

Inspiration surprises me

I am a shining star

My creativity is a guiding light

My creativity is a guiding light

in which I walk

seeking expression

like a Mozart or Van Gogh

How the paths

of the local parks

nourish, nourish

and the silent trees 

nod.

Inspiration rises

between me and things

sparkling

sparkling

strong inspiration acted upon

is beautiful as sunrise

and swift with ideas

Strong inspiration dazzles

Strong inspiration dazzles

opening the mind

and heart.

*This is one I've used many times based on My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss.

On gold days

I feel confident

like an automobile

racing down a winding road

on the edge of a mountain.

 

On red days

I'm energized

like a kid bouncing

on a pogo stick

down the stairs

 

On purple days

I am happy

like clouds floating lazily

in the Florida sky.

* The list poem is always popular. This one made me giggle, then sigh.

List of What I Have to Say to 2nd Period Over and Over

Gerry, do you have a belt?

Terrance, you are not leaving the room

Andrew, sit down

Jamel, get your book

Jose, get back to your seat

Listen to Mrs. Buckner

Ty'ree, open your book

Christian, thank you for being on task

Yes, Zoey, you can write poetry

Yes, David, you can read poetry

I'm so glad you're here.

*And finally, a found poem from when we read The Great Wide Sea.

I remember some prayers

without words

I was shining there with them,

suspended and floating free

I tumbled away from space

Slowly the sun rose on a 

wide, empty sea

Skimming the lake, riding the wind

I opened the door and looked back.

The Contenders

Digging through a box of things I brought from school, I unearthed this book.

It was a signal to me of something that happened near the end of school which I meant to write about.

I first became aware of this book The Contender by Robert Lipsyte when I worked at Lehigh Senior High. I think it was when I taught sophomores it was one of the choices in our Literature Circles.

My second year at Cypress Lake Middle found me teaching struggling readers, many of whom were kids of color and had no real reading habits. At the time we had 84 minute periods, and I tried my best to have them read their self-selected books and have meaningful discussions. But if you ever tried to do that, you will know how difficult it can be.

That's when I decided to teach a novel, and I thought of The Contender. My friend Susan from Lehigh brought me the books. They are still at CLMS today. The books are falling apart from use, because I taught this book several times over the years. But I just can't trash them, no matter what. The novel has a place in my heart.

The story takes place in the 1960s, and the main character is a black teenager named Alfred. He has dropped out of high school and is aimless, working at a grocery store and pretty much just hanging around with his druggie friend James. Somehow Alfred decides he wants to be a boxer, and takes a chance on learning how. This novel has a passage where Alfred crosses the street at a green light, races up several flights of steps, level to level, and then arrives at the boxing studio. 

 A faint light leaked through a crack, and he hurled himself up to it, paused, took another breath, and plunged into a large, murky room.

"Yeah?" A short, stocky man with crew-cut white hair looked up. His pale face was smooth and hard.

"I...I'm...I'm Albert Brooks," he said, gasping. "I come...to be...a fighter."

His apprehension is palatable, and it is one of my favorite all time passages to teach. There is so much to unpack, not the least the symbol of the green light telling him it was okay to push himself to take this step.

Essentially, the book is about making yourself ready for whatever is to come...and friendship. Great themes for my learners.

**

This year in my first block class I had a black boy names Sam, a kind, hard-working kid. He consistently did well, and was liked by everyone. Late in the year I got a new (white) boy -- Grayson -- from another middle school in the area. He came in and got right to work on the Titanic project and did an exceptional job. I was quite impressed with him. I didn't really know why he left his other school halfway through 4th quarter, but I know there were reasons.

Well, one day I had something laid out on the table for the students to pick up, and when Grayson got to the table he took both hands and shoved Sam down. Fortunately, there was a chair there to catch Sam, otherwise he would have gone right down to the floor. The look on Sam's face -- he was stunned. I was stunned as well.

I wrote a referral and got Grayson out of the class. 

Later, my AP came by and started asking me questions about it. I told her it was so unusual and unexpected, I didn't know what to make of it. She said she'd talk to both boys. I said I'd call the dad.

When talking to dad, who had a messy divorce and shared custody with Grayson's mom, I learned of health issues and a certain medication that might have lead Grayson to act in some kind of violent way. Mrs. George, my AP, talked to the boys who both said they are friends. Sam expressed how surprised he was by Grayson's action. Secretly, I had been concerned it was a black/white thing, but thankfully this didn't seem to be the case. Everything was fine after that.

**

In The Contender, Albert's trainer is a man named Donatelli. This is his response when Albert says he wants to be a champion:

Everybody wants to be a champion. That's not enough. You have to start by wanting to be a contender, the man coming up, the man who knows there's a good chance he'll never get to the top, the man who's willing to sweat and bleed to get up as high as his legs and his brains and his heart will take him...It's the climbing that makes the man. Getting to the top is an extra reward.

**

The second last day of school, I randomly decided to pull out a couple of The Contender books from the bin, a couple that weren't falling apart. I decided I wanted to gift them to a couple of students.

I chose Sam and Grayson.

I pulled them each over individually and told them I saw them as contenders. Neither knew what that was, but once I explained, they understood. I explained to each of them I saw them as someone who had a good shot at being a champion at whatever they decided to do. Sam didn't show much reaction. Grayson was very grateful I saw him that way, and he let me know that. I could tell he was touched.

There was a small concern I had that Sam was perhaps annoyed that I gave him, the only black student in the class, a book with a black boy on the cover.Turned out that should not have been a concern at all. 

On the last day the kids don't bring backpacks of much of anything to school. But there was Sam with the book in his hand. It was like he couldn't let it go. We were doing various games and activities and in between he'd have his nose back in the book. He was well into it, and noticeably gobbling it up. 

It did my heart good. It helped me know I made the right choice.

Gratitude for Journals

In cleaning up my classroom, I dug several journals out of my large drawer where I keep my purse. I brought two of them home to read.

The first one I read was from the 2021-22 school year, and it was a horror story. That was the year I started teaching Read 180 and the kids were a mess. Daily I felt abused by their constant use of the F word and their attempts to gaslight and insult me. I came close to quitting. It was horrible.

There were some hopeful things as the year went on, but when I was done reading I knew I didn't want this around me anymore. I tossed that toxin in the trash.

Then I found this notebook that Annmarie had given me. I used it as a gratitude journal starting with the 2017-18 school year.

 

After reading the other journal, this one was pure delight. I kept up with it pretty well throughout the school year, and it continues into 2018-19 and then picks up in January 2021 until the end of that school year.

I have ways of remembering these years, and this book confirmed much of what I recall. I was teaching things I believed in, including creative writing and speech & debate. I was reaching the kids with great activities, and I was keeping myself balanced in many ways. I had some successes that were noted, and I was working with my teacher friends to present at ASCD in the summer of 2019. I had a decent planning period I often was grateful for, as it allowed me to really dig in and create great lessons.

The 2021 part was a bit different, as that was the year I was hybrid teaching. I was experimenting with the Modern Classrooms method -- so different than anything I’d done in previous years -- and discovering the ups and downs with it. I didn't care for how that year sidetracked things, but at the same time, it was a tremendous learning experience.

I couldn't help comparing to this last school year, where my planning was reduced and not at the best time of day for me, and many of my plannings were spent covering other classes. I have already trained myself to NOT count of my planning. How sad is that?

Even worse, this coming year I will have another teacher in my room during planning. I will no longer have that time as a sanctuary from kids and noise. I am trying so hard not to fret about that, but I still am. Going to another room is not the answer.

I know I have to think differently about this and not make predetermination. But what I do know -- and this gratitude journal confirmed -- is that there are things that feed me as a teacher, and little by little they have been chipped away. I want to be able to see this as adventure, to tell myself a new story, to allow myself to piece it together. All I can do is promise myself to do my best.

But I am also aware, like I found with the first journal I read, that some things are just poison and may have a negative affect. I am keeping my options open. Stay tuned.

Believe

 Finalizing cleaning up my desk yesterday, I found this little card:

I had several of these I gave to students, but somehow this one never made its way to anyone. These cards pop open with a message. Staring at it there on my desk, I decided I’d open to see what it had to tell me. After all, there must be a reason this was still sitting there, right.

I knew right away I needed this message. And sure enough, at 11:00 I went to a meeting about what life will be like getting ready to move into portables and how the campus will be set up and how I’ll have someone in my room teaching during my planning and other depressing news. I came home sad, frustrated, and wondering why I just didn’t plan on retiring this year. 

As usual, my overdrive brain wanted to fix the situation into a frame I could digest. But it was too soon, and I just felt exhausted by the effort.

The best decision right now is no decision. I will relax and spend time with Jim and pray for direction. 

Oh yes…and BELIEVE in this message. The focus always has to be listening for direction. I will know what to do and when to do it. 

Dear Future Me…

Yesterday I spontaneously decided to have my intensive readers write a letter to themselves which I will mail to them at the beginning of the next school year. We first brainstormed some things they learned this year that they want to remember for 8th grade. We also listed lessons learned from the book we were reading.

Most of the letters didn’t say much. But three students hit it out of the park. I felt they said some real things that will truly guide them in the future. One was from a girl (the longest one). The other two are from boys who have struggled with behavior —one who just came to our school this quarter because of issues at another school. 

The Green Notebook

I’ve been revisiting a notebook I bought before attending and presenting at the ASCD conference in Orlando in June 2019. My teacher friends and I presented a workshop on found poetry, an experience that was one of the best in my professional career.

I’ve come to regard 2019 as a golden age of my teaching. At the time, I felt like I was getting a true grip on who I was as a teacher, and had clarity on how to best use classroom time to reach my learners in creative ways. I was teaching intensive readers using a curriculum developed by National Geographic, and I was teaching my own originally designed courses in creative writing and speech & debate. Everything had clicked into place.

In early 2020, I was having the absolute best semester of my life. I could feel the vibe in the classroom was positive, kids were learning and taking risks. We were alive with possibilities.

Then the shutdown came.

And nothing has been the same.

So much of what I documented as good teaching and learning in my green notebook was useless to me when we had to go online and everything became about reaching remote learners. And as kids returned, and the years went on, it was evident much had changed. Behaviors were different. Our schedule changed, and I lost the courses I had designed. I was given an intensive curriculum that was dead in the water, no matter how much I tried to breathe life into it (Read 180). I was also teaching a higher level research course out of Cambridge University, which I eventually could see was lacking in many ways.

By last year at this time, I was ready to flee. I made serious steps to leave my school. I didn’t, and along the way I was released from Read 180 and given a section of creative writing. The Cambridge course was no longer just for high end students, which caused a whole new learning curve for me. I still had intensive reading, but at least it had decent literature (Dickinson, Wordsworth, Dylan Thomas) and I felt I could be a bit more creative and get somewhere. On top of that, my husband received a devastating diagnosis in January, and my time to teach was reduced. I am lucky to have made it to the end of the year in one piece, frankly.

My final year beckons, and I have decided it is time to return to the golden age and make it real again. I’m finding my green notebook has a blueprint for some really great stuff, some I have used before, some I have not. I have some autonomy, and where I don’t I’m taking it anyway. I have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing it my way. 

I had wonderful conversations over the weekend with teacher friends, and I feel smart, strong, fearless, and resilient. Who knew when I purchased this notebook at Target five years ago (I actually remember choosing this one over others), that the words on the cover and the words inside would be coming alive in me today? 

In June 2019 none of us had any idea things could go so awry. Now that I know, I realize the importance of moving forward in ways that work. My learners deserve no less from me, and I will be prepared.

ADDENDUM

After I published this essay, a meme came up on my FB feed that went with it, and I had to add this here. It’s a good reminder to stay the course I’ve decided on, so a year from now I can be smiling and thankful I did what I knew had to be done.

This Poem Saves Me

 I slept for a very long time last night and woke to read this poem by Rumi:

Sometimes you hear a voice through the door

calling you, as fish out of water

hear the waves, or a hunting falcon

hears the drum's Come back. Come back.

This turning toward what you deeply love

saves you. Read the book of your life,

which has been given you.

A voice comes to your soul saying,

Lift your foot. Cross over.

Move into emptiness

of question and answer and question

I didn’t know what to do with this…I didn’t know if I was too sleep-buzzed to understand it, or that it was too impossible to focus on any one part.

After leaving and coming back to it, I decided that “This turning toward what you deeply love saves you.”

This is how we get through life, right? The things we love, when we experience them, lift us. 

I think this is part of the reason I find some of the rancor and bitterness in the world so off-putting. And yes, this I mean in a political sense. I wonder why we can’t agree to love our country, our democracy, the way those who fought for it did. This really hit me after I saw Hamilton again.

Today it was also about something floating around my periphery as I tried to figure out how to occupy a few classes on these last days. I discovered something I’d forgotten all about. Perfect. 

Despite all the insanity this year, I do love my learners and I’m trying to leave them with the best experience possible —art and games, yes, but some other skills to call on as readers in the future. It feels possible and probable. And that is something I love. It saves me.

Engines of Creativity

 

If I were ever to get another dog, it would be a Corgi. Every time my coloring app has a Corgi picture, I have to color it. This particular one I found delightful. I suppose a Corgi could use a skateboard because their legs are so short. And why would he need a scarf except to look dapper? Whoever designed this took things that don’t usually go together and combined them. Creativity! 

I don’t have a clear direction on this posting today. I’m mostly musing. There are seven school days left. Our school does a great year managing the energy of the kids at the end of the year, and I’m grateful for that.

And, as usual, I’m planning how to do things better next year. With that in mind, I share this quote. The idea is from Thomas Merton, but it is put in Parker Palmer’s words:

Contradictions in our lives are engines of creativity. What we get wrong makes us reach for something better. What we get right assures us that “better” is sometimes within reach.

What I like about my quest to always get better is I have partners who are doing the same. I’ve already talked to another Global Perspectives teacher at my school about what we need to do next year, and we have both come to the same basic conclusion separately on how we need to approach things. I found this validating, and energizing as well. 

When someone hands you a curriculum that contradicts what you feel can get the job done, it’s time to get creative. And I’m all about that!

Value, Rightness, and Truth

 

Today in my reading, I came across this quote from Trappist Monk Thomas Merton:

Do not depend on the hope of results...You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, and truth of the work itself.

This brought to mind immediately what happened at our school this week. I will begin with a conversation I had with a student named Charli.

 

Charli is in my intensive reading class and has been the hardest worker consistently all year. She put in tons of extra time on her iReady pathway, pushing herself to "low 8" status, which is great for a 7th grader. Right where she should be.

But Charli did not score proficient on the exam. She came in at a level 2 again. I could tell the promise of results had hurt her. She had been given false information: Do THIS and it will equal THAT.

To add insult to injury, there were other learners in that class who did score proficient, who did not do as well on assignments or put in the time on iReady. Yes, it can be puzzling. But only if you think standardized tests -- especially adaptive ones -- are true evidence. I have been savvy enough all along to know this is not necessarily true.

I explained to her that it could be, because the test is adaptive, she answered something wrong and it dipped her pathway. I don't actually KNOW, but I do know that is possible. Now I've heard there is a way for them to see exactly their ups and downs on the adaptation, but I haven't had a chance to talk to her about that yet, or figure out where to find it.

Since the kids are able to access their test scores very shortly after they are done testing, this has created a situation where the rest of the day they are asking each other about their test scores. This is fine for those who did well. But for those who didn't do as they hoped or expected, it is devastating.

This is doing nothing to help the mental health crisis we face, let me tell you.

What I want Charli to know is that her efforts were good for HER, even if it didn't result in the score she had hoped to attain. When I read the Merton quote, I thought about the value and the rightness and the truth in doing consistently good work with effort and persistence. It is devastating to think we are teaching these kids there is only one result that matters. The true results show up in the rest of their lives!

I recall when I taught Advanced Placement Literature. We would read books and poetry and discuss and present and write papers and try to improve those papers. There was a learning process involved. Students in the class could get an A and still not "pass" the AP exam [there is actually no pass score...just scores that can give you college credit and some that don't.]  Even if they didn't get but a 1 or 2 on the AP exam, they worked the process, they learned, they tried, they took risks. 

 

But at the time, someone out in the know-it-all world was screeching that their grade in the course should equal their score. I thought it was the most asinine thing I ever heard. How can the learning process equal the end score?As an educator, it makes no sense to me. What was the course for if not to learn how to read deeply and communicate ideas and write more fluently? If they already knew those things, why would they need the course? It's like saying athletes should excel perfectly in practice or they don't deserve to win the game. What?

 

In my reading I also noted this from Parker Palmer:

 

Once one has eyes to see it, wholeness can always be found, hidden beneath the broken surface of things.

 

So my message to Charli is to turn her focus to wholeness of learning. There are many things broken in our education system, and I've long felt standardized tests are part of that brokenness. Don't get stuck below the surface where the cracks are. Stay the course of the value of what you are learning, the rightness of what it can bring to the world, and the truth of who you are as a human. Those are the things that matter. Those are the things we must elevate. Those are the things we can trust.

Survival

 

Yesterday after testing, we started our One Book, One School selection, Thunder Cave. Naturally, the after testing environment is chaotic, noisy, and completely insane. Trying to get their attention to start a read aloud was nearly impossible. I will have this challenge again today after the math test. 

When trying to think what to write today, I remembered a quote from the book that I am using for an activity—a spine poem. I decided today I’d write a spine poem about my need to survive this day, using the quote: “Survival is more important than getting there.”

Survival is the name of the game. It

is hardest on these days after testing.

More noise, more craziness, nothing

important to do. Rather

than calming things down, we are

getting barraged with misbehavior.

There is little that can be done.

(Just. Survive)

Titanic Lives On

We have come to the conclusion of another great Titanic project. The last couple of days we have spent doing a “read around” where students read each other’s passenger journals and give positive feedback. More than ever before, I was completely “wowed” by the effort so many students took to make their passenger come alive in our minds. Their imagination and creativity, supported by research, is what education is all about. I am forever grateful to Patricia Wachholz for introducing me to this project. This will probably be the best version of it I have seen, and I am grateful. 

Here are a selection of covers. No two journals were alike, and I feel deeply this type of assignment should not be the exception, but the rule. 

(Side note: our 7th grade science teacher has the kids creating habitat dioramas. I heard her commenting to our AP about how great it is going. I feel it is such a shame we feel forced to wait until the end of the year to do the best stuff!)

“Living from the Inside Out”

 

I read a commencement address Parker Palmer gave at Naropa University in 2015. It has the same title as this blog.

There were two quotes I pulled out:

To grow in love and service, you must value ignorance as much as knowledge and failure as much as success.

…walk straight into your not knowing, and take the risk of failing and falling, again and again.

After reflecting on these a bit, I went on to write in my journal, and some really great ideas took form in an unexpected way. I’ve been thinking about how to approach things next year, and I had yet to tie it all together. I remembered things I had forgotten all about, and found they were a perfect fit for what I am trying to accomplish.

This all has to do with teaching, of course. I have annoyed myself sometimes when I look back on the blog and see how I rise and fall, commit and lose track, again and again. I secretly wonder if others are reading these words and saying to themselves “Hasn’t she figured it out yet?”

Parker’s words about living from the inside hit home because that is what I am doing in most instances…until I forget and try to control from the outside. When I think I’ve figured it out, I do my best to move forward. Yet, things throw me off track. Seems so repetitive.

But then, I wouldn’t take any action if I didn’t think I knew the way…right?

Still, not knowing can be valuable. Beginner’s mind. And taking a huge dose of that with my ideas is definitely something I need to remember to do. I need to allow for some innovation and adjustment.

*

I’m documenting some things here so I won’t forget. One of the things I remembered was the interactive journal, which I haven’t used in years. Once the Chromebook took over, the journal seemed outdated and lunky. But after this year I realize how deeply necessary it is. Not every day, but definitely on a regular basis. 

The other thing I remembered was my acronym BRIDGE that is now taking on new dimensions as well. This is a mnemonic I created a few years ago:

Build

Relationships.

Illuminate

Discovery.

Generate 

Expression.

I have already seen how these simple steps can be used to enhance the Global Perspectives curriculum. I’m going to keep fitting the pieces together, based on what I’ve learned in my years of teaching this course. Believe me, it can be pretty dry. I need a decent plan to accomplish what needs to be done.  I found it by looking a bit to the past, looking inside, and being willing to give form to it. 

I chose the graphic on this blog because of the spiral nature, but also the many designs and colors combining into a unified whole. This piece of art speaks to how variety can be enhancing and enlivening.

May I live that idea inside my classroom every day.

Shining Together

Today I am inspired by David Kirby’s poem “Satisfaction,” where he muses on remembering to be happy.

I made a list of what I’m happy about from this week. I had instances of having to firmly remind myself to be happy, so this is necessary.

* Jim’s PET scan has indicated his cancer is stable —treatments will continue, but perhaps not as harsh. We’ll know more when we see the doc on Tuesday.

* The Titanic project has been a huge hit. Most everyone is pouring themselves into it.

*  I’ve been putting on clean pop music playlists while the kids work and they love it. One girl thanked me yesterday, saying “it helps her concentrate.”

* I did not put the desks back in groupings after testing and I’m thinking I may leave them this way. Perhaps the kids function better in rows.

* I found cards buried away I bought over a decade ago called Praise Notes. The last couple days while the kids worked, I wrote words of praise and quietly gave a select few the cards. So many are doing such wonderful things, it was time to acknowledge it.

* I’m happy this project has given me space to recognize the happy moments in the classroom, and I can relish them. 

* I’m happy my classroom feels fully mine. It’s been so elusive this year. I got it back just in time. Not many days left and I want to enjoy fully.

*Yesterday 12th period was all singing along to this song. We’ve had many rainy days this year, but “when we shine, we shine together.”

Dear Addison

 

When they heard the Civics exam was three hours

a girl named Addison said,

“They must really hate us.”

What am I to say to that?

I took notice in the 1990s how little 

we actually care for our kids, 

how most anything related to them 

is for greedy or political purposes.

Standardized tests were based on a false premise

to start with, and have only gotten

worse as time has gone on.

Now they are “adaptive” which means

one wrong answer and your trajectory

changes and there is nothing you can do

to fix it.

Everything we have taught about testing strategies

no longer applies. We are forcing

bad habits and punishing honest mistakes

that in the past had at least a chance of correction.

And even worse, it has opened up a world

of horrible curricula that do little to engage

and everything to form a direction of thinking

that simply may not work for every learner.

And they can be boring as hell,

and not connect to who or where

they are in life.

Maybe nobody actively hates our young people,

but they don’t necessarily care about true success.

It’s about numbers, and in a large way

trying to demonstrate the failure of public schools.

Fortunately, the excellent educators in this country

are doing their best to NOT let this happen.

So I write:

Dear Addison,

Know that your teachers are on your side.

We are doing our best to give you something real

to hang onto, and to help you know

learning is valuable in its own right.

We are doing what we can to soften the blow.

We love you.

Ms Sadler 

and all the others 

Learning Together

 This is a story about teaching something I know little about to kids I don't know at all.

On Thursday I received an email from my assistant principal that a 6th grade Science teacher wasn't feeling well and would be leaving. I had to cover her 10th period class.

When I received the instructions it was noted that this would be a difficult class, and she provided a couple of suggestions.

I have covered a lot of classes this year, and most of the time it is 7th graders. I know almost all the 7th graders so that helps a lot. And even when I'm in 8th, I know quite a few of them.

However, when it comes to 6th, I'm flying blind. What transpired was a throwback to when I was a substitute teacher and had to wing it.

The lesson was on stars, in particular, how they are formed. The "essential question" was a lot of blah blah blah I didn't even understand, let alone expect struggling readers to get. 

So I had them stand up a form a star with their arms and legs. We sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Then we started through the slideshow lessons.

We managed to figure out a few things (stars are made up of hydrogen and helium). I kept reminding the kids that I didn't know this stuff, and was learning with them.

And then there was a video.

The first time through on the video was blah blah blah. Something about a H-R Diagram. (Never heard of this in my life. I still don't exactly know what it is.)

The second time through I heard something I could relate to. It had to do with protostars (never heard of them.) But what the voice on the video told us was that protostars are what stars are before they actually form. If a protostar is too cool, it won't form. If it is too hot, it is too unstable to form. It has to be the perfect temperature.

Walla! We know how to connect this to something we know...GOLDILOCKS.

We discussed this and everyone chose what color star they were. With about 8 minutes left, I turned them over to coloring pages. Two sweet girls--Waverly and Leena -- gave me their pages demanding I hang them in my classroom.

You can bet I did.

I saw the science teacher yesterday, and I could see the look of "what happened?" on her face. I told her a brief version of this story and she was laughing her ass off. 

Honestly, it was a good time. And it was a beautiful reminder of a number of things:

1. I still have what it takes.

2. Being silly can help in times of unknowing.

3. Learning together is what we are always doing.

4. Spontaneity is a weird and wonderful thing.

Last Meeting

We love the Creative Writing Club because…

 

–it gives us our own time to write our stories in peace and quiet

–no one judges our writing

–we can write all the stories we want

–it gives me energy

–free cookies

–gives me a break

–challenges me to find new prompts and activities

–I get new ideas

–there is more freedom to write

–it helps me get back into my own writing

–generates more ways to think

–we discover how every writer has their own voice

 

Written May 1, 2024 by Hazel, Isabella, Gabrielle, and Ms. Sadler

 

Defending

 I have started this book and can barely put it down.

Yesterday I read over 100 pages, and couldn’t stop sharing what I was reading with Jim and another cancer patient while in the infusion room. No matter who I talk to about this book, they reveal they know kids with anxiety. Our neighboring patient even ordered the book while he was being treated.

There is so much in the well-researched book that helps me understand what is happening with my learners on an even deeper level. I knew smartphones and lack of play were a problem. I just didn’t realize the reasons, the extent of it, and how widespread it is.

What I want to write about today is the idea of Discover and Defend. This has to do with mindsets that are developed in childhood.

I bring this up today because I’ve noticed a trend with some of my highest achievers. We had a huge research project, and I provided as much support as I could, while still leaving the possibility of their own creativity to flourish. I’ve written about this previously, how a couple of students did a presentation that I thought was a decent model that could be useful to others. I provided that because it came available. It was never my intention to tell them exactly what their slides should look like. 

A few of these high achievers missed the mark on their research…one in particular I’m thinking of basically did not go very deep. There were 3 high-achievers on that team, and it came off very weak. Their grade was not the one they are used to, but honestly, they needed to be pushed.

One of the complaints I got on the reflection sheet from them and a few others was that I had not provided the information to them on how to set up their slides —which was not the issue at all. When faced with having deal with a lower grade than they are used to, they didn’t absorb the reason why. Instead, they blamed me for not providing what they needed. But as we know, it’s a false complaint. Technically, I did provide something. 

While reading Haidt’s book, I thought of that. They want me to keep them safe from not getting high grades, or for being reminded they didn’t quite do the job. 

To be fair, not all the students defended. Many of them acknowledged how they could have done better, and they sincerely reflected on why. They were willing to discover something new, something to improve. They didn’t toss it back at me as if I’m to blame. 

The other complaint that got me was “not enough time.” 

They had THREE MONTHS. Enough said!

(Should I mention here that one girl missed 2 class periods with her team because her mom took her on a cruise?) 😝

Perhaps they are happy now because the Titanic project does tell them how to set up their slides. Maybe now they can relax and discover and imagine and create. I sure hope that is the case. 

Bigger Risks

Today I began to read Parker Palmer’s book On the Brink of Everything: Grace, Gravity & Getting Older.

This marks my 3rd time reading this book since my sister gave it to me for my birthday in 2019.

Today I appreciated this quote on page 2:

Old is just another word for nothing left to lose, a time of life to take bigger risks on behalf of the common good.

I related immediately because lately I’ve been talking a lot to another teacher in our reading department. She has just been at CLMS for two years, came from elementary, and is still trying to figure out the culture there. She is younger and has more career ahead of her, so fretting a bit over her upcoming evaluation and such is on her mind.

I find I have no such worries. I’m old, I’m close to retiring, and I seriously have nothing left to lose by taking bigger risks. I’ve clearly decided to do what I think is most productive for the common good of my learners, and the rest be damned.

Yes, the gift of aging! 😎

This is manifesting in many ways; mainly, I am finding a lot of incredible ideas on how to make the Global Perspectives curriculum come alive. Three years of dullness is enough. I need a new approach.

I also find myself rediscovering things that worked in the past but got abandoned. I have clear memories of some of these activities and feel sad they have been forgotten. I’m determined to have them return to my classroom repertoire.

What I’m thinking is next year has to be Helen’s Greatest Hits. And yes…I still wonder what the heck I’ll do with my creative brain when this part of life is over. But I know something will come my way!

Meanwhile, a bit more risk-taking is in order…and encouraging my learners to do the same. 

Tiny Folded Maps Revisited

My daily reading of Anne Lamott’s new book

Somehow:Thoughts on Love

has infiltrated my system,

bringing me back to

a found poem I wrote

last Sunday that, frankly,

baffled me. I didn’t know

what it was about.

But as I read the second

last chapter today, my

heart started to feel at rest

when I realized the dream I hold

in that tiny folded map

is my deep desire to bring

out the best in my learners

through love and joy.

The window I needed to open

was to my own cross-purposes.

How I was preventing the light

and needed to awaken to a

deeper love and find joy once more.

The hidden symmetries have been

revealed to me…

and it is a reward…a passage…a homecoming.

Anne talks about how 

God sets creation in motion

and is with us every step of the way,

eliciting a helpful spark within us,

the bright shining spark…

Be the spark.

Tomorrow, that reality begins.

“…like a sleepy baby”

I have a boy named Hector, an 8th grader, in my creative writing class this semester. He is often absent, and when he’s there he tends to sleep. I got him to write one thing so far, and the last few classes he wasn’t even present.

The writers are working on doing modern retellings of fairy tales and myths. I was not there Tuesday, but Hector was. My awesome guest teacher talked to Hector and encouraged him to write.

And write he did.

I was so surprised when I found his story “The Little Thug Who Just Needed a Hug” submitted in the draft folder. That title! It is a story about a boy who does bad things because he doesn’t feel love, his family abandons him, his grandmother dies and that lights a fire in him that can’t be extinguished. He finds a woman to talk to and tell his troubles, and when he is done he falls into her arms “like a sleepy baby”—this was the healing that was needed. Someone to listen and hold him. Heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time.

WOW.

I shared the story with his counselor, Betty, and the social worker. They were in tears. Betty went on to read the story to nearly everyone in the front office. She also talked to Hector, not revealing I shared his story but that I had mentioned he wrote something good. Hector explained to her that some of the story was fictionalized, but some was not.

As I was walking in the hallway I heard a student call out, “Hi Ms. Sadler.” I looked over and saw it was Hector.

I can say with confidence in the past he would have just ignored me. I chalk this up to another connection made through the power of the written word and telling stories that matter.