5. The Shield (and a new mantra)

#64Challenge

Reality continues to interfere with my ideal.

Kids saying "no." Kids not following directions. Kids being mean to each other. Kids pushing my buttons.

BREATHE.

This week I had a mantra for myself on a small whiteboard in the classroom: BE GENTLE.

It has worked pretty well. Except when the boys in second period get obsessed with batting crumpled up pieces of paper around, inevitably to be left behind for me to look at all day.

This is when "our classroom" becomes "MY classroom."

BREATHE.

This week I saw a little story come across Facebook about "TTT" -- things take time.

This morning I remembered that when I read Parker Palmer's short essay "Begin Again." He quotes Wendell Berry who says, "We are either beginning or we are dead."

Begin again. Things take time.

I need to remember this when I realize I didn't teach my 6th advanced students exactly how to do an activity. Begin again.

I need to remember this as I see teams not really working together in speech and debate. I need to help them begin again, because these things take time.

I need to remember this when new kids are added to my intensive reading classes, one in particular busting at the seams now, and I see the neediness and I'm only one person. Things take time.

Begin again. Things take time.

Today I read about drawing a circle and putting in all the things you want to hold close to you, like a shield. I drew this circle in my journal. This is my "shield" of what I want to keep within my boundaries:

Doing this little activity calmed me down quite a bit. It was a reminder that I often have more control than I think I have. Other times, maybe not. Either way, I need to hold my shield close.

Begin again. Things take time.

And as I finish this, I'm listening to this song by Dire Straits which seems appropriate for this post: Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug. Was he writing about being a teacher?

Glimmer

Found poem from a small section of Parker Palmer's essay "Born Baffled."

Glimmer

Writing is a retrospective act
it's also a prospective act
a Distant Warning System
about the next opportunity
or demand for growth

partnering with something that is
not yet me or mine --
or perhaps something
more truly me

Writing allows the mask to fall away

Peeling away the layers
Writing toward the growing edge
A glimmer of what it might be.

4. Annoyance

#64Challenge

In order to keep this "challenge" honest, I need to be sure I'm writing about the entire teaching experience, not just the bright and beautiful parts. I did it earlier this week regarding my second period class.

But this is different. Much more personal.

Yesterday morning before announcements came on and class began, my second period was hanging out in the room, playing games on their Chromebooks, talking, and laughing. I noticed a student drawing a picture. It was Dobbin, a boy you may remember me talking about from last year when he wrote me a beautiful note at the end of the year telling me how I would always be his favorite teacher. I glanced at his drawing and realized it had the name "Sadler" on it. I took a closer look.

It was "Annoyance Sadler" -- a likeness of what my face looks like when I'm annoyed with the class.

Gawd.

I already knew I was being a bit grouchier than I want to be. I already have faced the fact that all my visualization of being the teacher I've always dreamed I'd be has quickly fallen on hard times in many of the classes, as I sort through nearly two hundred students, trying to remember who is Jayden, Haiden, Hayley, August, and Augustin. Don't get me started on J'La, Jamaria, Jemeria, and Jocelyn who all sit together...

But I digress.

Dobbin was proud of his art -- he meant no harm. He thought he could make me laugh. Instead I just gently said, "I would prefer to see peaceful and calm Sadler."

After class was over I found a long handwritten note from Dobbin on my desk. He was profoundly sorry and begged me not to be mad. He was earnestly trying to brighten my day.

This was not about him, of course. I knew it was I who was the problem -- the me who has too often witnessed that my ideal does not match the reality. I still have a ton of emotion wrapped up in this, and I will work through it. But I knew I had an action to take.

My planning period was over lunch, so I looked up Dobbin's schedule, and found him in the cafeteria. I sat by him and told him I could never be mad at him, that I knew his intention was good and pure, and the problem is that I don't like to see that part of me.

I write this today to renew my pledge again to be a better person. To try to smile more. To relax into what is. To bring a little light and joy. To find the poetry in every student.

In my finer moments, I will remember. And eventually, those moments will stack even closer together, leaving little room for "Annoyance Sadler."

3. Spontaneity

#64Challenge

Last week I polled my creative writing class, asking how many came to write poetry.  Two hands went up.  Who came to write stories?  All the rest of the hands went up.

At first I was a tad disappointed. I have loved the spontaneous nature of the writing class, often finding a poem in the morning and turning it into a lesson (instead of the one I had planned.) I thought that would be gone, but today I found out that doesn't have to be the case.

We had a fire drill early on in the class. We had only done our "crash and burn" writing, and were just going to get into looking at everyday poems and writing some of our own. I had told them I already had the lesson ready, and we'd start stories after that.

Then BEEP BEEP BEEP -- fire drill. I reminded them of the instructions, including stay together.

We got outside, and I did the headcount.  23.  But there were 24 in class today. This never happens, so I was a bit discombobulated, stepping in a puddle while I counted and recounted. 23. Who was missing? Pretty quickly we realized it was a 6th grader, Kevin.

Andy Miller, my AP came by, and I told him we had a missing student. He went on down the line, and right after that Kevin joined us. We waited as the bell rang and rang, and then finally Andy came back. I told him Kevin had returned.

When we got back inside the kids started laughing about the situation. Before we got started today, Kevin was seeking a pencil, and I sent him to the pencil drawer. So they started saying, "He went looking for a pencil and never came back" and all other manner of silliness.

But I saw the opportunity. Hey -- why don't we get into small groups and collaborate on a story about what made Kevin go missing during the fire drill? The kids (for some reason) decided that the main character's name should be Kevin Potato.  They gathered together, set up a google doc, and got writing. The room was awash in giggles and discussion. Kevin was grinning ear to ear being the center of attention. I absolutely loved it!

I wrote an email to Andy with the title "All is not lost," and told him we were now writing a story about missing Kevin.  I thought it was a good way to show him that engaging them in the moment is numero uno in my class.

By the way, my partner Deb and I have been really getting into picture books (thank you, Pernille Ripp) and I had heard of this one called Also an Octopus.  Deb has purchased a bunch of the recommended books, and I had read it this morning. Now I see where it fits in. On Monday when our class meets again, I'm going to read them the book. It is about the writing process, and we will pull out all the steps, and they will have to be sure they include all of them in their story.

Check it out:
Also an Octopus

2. Resistance

#64Challenge

We've been humming along in the most of the classes, making connections, thinking about what it means to be a community, and creating and signing a community agreement.

But then...resistance.

It was the 2nd period Speech & Debate class, over 20 boys, lots of noise and distractions. I had come into the class that day with the attitude of love and redirection, as we worked through the plan.  The class was beginning to make a list of things to put into the agreement:

We will be respectful, take responsibility, and listen carefully.
We will be helpful.
We will be kind to our peers.
We will try to enjoy this class.

It is when we got to that last one that the real truth started to emerge.  It was suggested (by a girl) that we put the word "try" into all the statements.  I explained why the word "try" is weak, and I didn't feel it would be helpful to the end goal.

Then Dylan spoke up. I had him in 6th grade, and I know he is often in trouble. He stated what many others agreed with: This is a waste of time. We are never going to hold to these agreements. We will pretend for three weeks and then it will be gone. We shouldn't even bother.

I pointed out that there were people in the class who were looking to their classmates to help create an environment for learning, and that we are all responsible for making that happen. The general consensus was that there were people in the class that would never do it, so no one should have to bother doing it. They were talking from previous experience.

I told them I don't accept that it can't be done, but class was ending and frankly, I didn't know the next step.

A couple periods later I was on planning, and the only thing I could think of to do is to set the agreement aside, and dive into the work. I have what I think is a compelling video to dissect and discuss about the young man from Parkland that had his Harvard acceptance rescinded because of stuff he put on social media.  My immediate plan is to dive into the work, and as we go, do some exit tickets on what the kids see is or is not working.

I'm reminded again of the quote I put in a poem yesterday: The contradictions in our lives are the engines of creativity. I am charged now with getting really creative in how I approach this class. 

And I'm also comforted by the fact that it is only for one semester!

Rainy Dawn

Inspired by Joy Harjo's poem of the same name.


This beautiful poem about the birth and naming of her daughter pointed me toward seeing this school year as a butterfly unfolding, so many wings yet to be discovered.

I spent the summer imagining how I would interact with my learners. It is so tempting to fall back into habits--I already have in some ways.

It is a "rainy dawn"--something new that can get drenched in misguided unhappiness and my own resistance.

Our contradictions are the engines of creativity.

Live it.
Breathe it.
Do it.

1. Personal Identity Wheel

#64Challenge


Reflections from August 14 & 15

This year I decided to dig a bit deeper into forming a solid classroom community, so set out with some of the best activities I could find to help the connections.  On Day One we considered some of the community values (respect, belonging, truth, teamwork, boldness, responsibility, substance, discipline, excellence and joy) and discussed why they are important, and how they show up in the classroom. The kids focused a lot on respect, but some were delighted to see joy as one of the values!

My reflection -- where I ask specific questions related to this blog -- came with the activities on Day Two. This is when I pulled out the Personal Identity Wheel exercise we had done once at a Scholars Club sponsors workshop. Here is the reflection I wrote regarding this assignment:

My classes this year all contain three overarching principles: mastery, identity, and creativity. Today was about personal identity. Learners used a personal identity wheel to connect where they had similar interests with others. They were asked to find at least five people they didn't already know, and aim for a mix of boys and girls. The wheel contains a variety of interests -- hobbies, skills, favorites, number of siblings -- and provided a way to find something in common. I felt this is especially important since nearly all of my classes are mixed levels. It is good for an 8th grader to see they may have something in common with that sixth grader across the room. 

This was a clear sky activity, the mood in the room being uplifting and fun. Two things stood out: a couple of sixth grader girls discovered they had the exact same birthday, and they just happened to be sitting next to each other. And I did have a few learners who felt they were outliers, and couldn't possibly have anything in common with anyone because they themselves were just "too weird." Each time this came up, I proved them wrong by finding something on their wheel I could connect with. Then I sent them off to find others!

We also did a social identity wheel, but in a different way. They just quietly reflected on their ethnicity, national origin, religion, and race. They agreed or disagreed with statements on how much these social identities meant to them. Many had no religious affiliation, and very few said they felt strongly about their race being important to their identity. One girl didn't even know what her race was, and a number of them had no idea what their country of origin is.  By the second day, I dropped this part of the activity, as I realized either they just didn't care about these things, or they weren't going to be honest if they did. And frankly, in practice I didn't feel the results were worth the time.

The river that flowed through the classes was the understanding that we are more alike than we are different. Our next step is to dissect the meaning of community, and write a contract to sign and display.