Saints or Scapegoats

Over winter break, I saw a couple of local news segments about a teacher who had won an award for her great teaching. The phrases used to describe her:

  • “tirelessly giving of herself”
  • “works late nights and weekends to do whatever it takes”
  • “selfless and saint-like”

My first impression was that she must be a really great teacher… but then, I  became aware that I was also slightly annoyed. I couldn’t put my finger on it right away.
Why was I annoyed? Was I jealous? Not really. After a little thought, I realized it was the fact that this woman’s entire life was dedicated to the education of students… and nothing else. There was no mention of her own family, or if she even had one. There wasn’t a single word about any of her non-school related activities.

So, I looked around at some other teacher award articles. Did you know that a search for “award,” “teacher,” and “tirelessly” results in 465,000,000 returns on Google? I found many of the same types of descriptions of teachers, and that word “tireless” is found over and over and over.

On the bright side, many awards given recently also feature the words “innovative,” “creative,” and “inspiring.” Now, those are words I can get behind! Some of the these descriptions also mention the families of those teachers, as well as their community and leisure activities. To me, this signals a balance in the lives of these teachers, and I think they are more likely to be successful with students than those who dedicate every minute of their day to teaching.

As I reflect back on 2011, the Teacher-as-Superman/Wonder Woman (or Saint) conundrum, and the backlash on the teaching profession in general, I wonder if our expectations of what a teacher should be gets in the way of helping kids to be the very best they can be. If we perpetuate that myth of a saint-like teacher, there will definitely be those who suffer by comparison and then become the scapegoats for everything that’s wrong with education. Regardless, none of that helps the kids who struggle day to day, either due to home environment, lack of proper nutrition, learning difficulties, or just plain boredom in school.

Looking forward to your thoughts…

(note: I didn’t link to any of the articles or videos of news segments, because I did not want to put any one specific teacher on the spot. It’s not about those particular people… more the idea of what a teacher is or isn’t.)

What CARING Teachers Want To Tell Parents

Sorry, Ron Clark. You don’t speak for me.

Ron Clark, a Disney Teacher of the Year and Oprah’s pick for “Phenomenal Man,” wrote this article on CNN titled, “What teachers really want to tell parents.”

One of the gems from this article:

If we give you advice, don’t fight it. Take it, and digest it in the same way you would consider advice from a doctor or lawyer.

 

Don’t fight it? Okay, I can deal with that… but it almost sounds as if he is telling parents not to question his advice.  The entire article, in my opinion, comes off as arrogant and condescending to parents.  One sub-title in the article is about the only view I found we had in common, and that was asking parents to become partners with teachers/educators.

Here’s the main problem that I have with an article like this… and I know a lot of my friends agreed with the article, retweeting, posting on Facebook, and shouting out an “Amen” after reading it. Please don’t take this as a personal attack. Hear me out first.

I am a teacher AND a parent. I am extremely fortunate to have been able to see both perspectives for nearly 20 years. My oldest daughter just earned her Bachelor’s degree, and my youngest just entered her freshman year at university. For me, the experience as a parent has made me a much better teacher. I’m constantly reminded by my own children that they are more than the scores they receive on tests, their good or not so good behavior on a day to day basis, and much more than the personalities they exhibit during school hours and school activities.

Here’s a thought: why not invite parents to be partners? Sure, some aren’t going to react the way we would like, but why start off on opposites sides? We’re doing that at Anastasis Academy, where I’m now happily teaching. Happy parents + happy teachers= better opportunities for kids.

I wrote the previous paragraph in a response to a Facebook post by a friend. I received a reply from another reader. He said (and I’m paraphrasing) that inviting parents as partners is more about making parents feel good, but it’s all talk and not really feasible. They should support the experts (educators) and leave it at that.

This is exactly the type of arrogance that creates an Us vs Them environment for parents… and since when are PARENTS not the experts of their own children?!?

I used an analogy to respond. When I walk into a doctor’s office, I expect the doctor to listen to what I have to say is going on with my health. I know and trust the doctor to make the best diagnosis she can, but I also know that she can’t do that completely without me being specific about what is going on. She’s the medical expert, but I’m the one living day to day with my own health issues. If she doesn’t listen to me at all, I’m not going to be able to get better. Likewise, if I don’t listen to her and follow her suggestions, I’m not going to get better either.

Caring teachers invite parents into a community of learners. When parents feel that their thoughts and opinions matter, they are more likely to be involved in helping their children succeed in school.  I am SO amazingly blessed to be in a school where we all are part of this community. Parents, teachers, and students are working together to do what’s best for kids.

I know the world isn’t always perfect, and I have also had experiences where parents wanted nothing to do with their child’s education. I’ve been physically and legally threatened by parents.  Some have given me more advice than I ever wanted or needed… but in the end, it has always been easier (and much, much better for the child involved) to treat parents with dignity and grace. Copping an attitude of  “well, I’m the expert and you’d better just deal with it” has never fixed any problem and only serves to drive a larger wedge between parents and teachers.

In a time where educators are taking the blame for much of society’s problems, why on earth would we want to alienate parents or make them feel like their opinions about their children are not worth our time? Parents are the best advocates we educators have!

So here’s what I want to tell parents:

1. I promise I will care about your child.

2. I promise I will listen to your concerns about your child.

3. You are your child’s first teacher. You have a lot of influence in your child’s learning… more influence than I will have.

4. I promise that I will not believe everything your child says about things going on at home. 🙂  AND- if your child tells you about activities at school, I promise that, together, we will all discuss what happened, as well as how your child perceives those events. As a mom, I know those things sometimes can be misconstrued, but I also understand that teachers don’t always know exactly what happened either.

5. As a certified educator, I promise to provide the very best education I can for your child. And if you have questions about what we’re doing, I will be more than happy to talk to you about that.

 

As a parent, I wish that more teachers had really listened to what I wanted to tell them about my children.  I can tell you that my kids succeeded in classes where the teachers remembered a) that they were CHILDREN, and b) that as their parent, I could help them understand my children. Those who chose to go the route of “only teacher knows best” were lousy teachers, and my kids have carried baggage from those experiences into their adulthood.  I promise that will not happen with my students.

 

 

 

These Are My Kids

Another school year is here. New school. New students. I met some of the students from our school at a get-together last Sunday, but not all of them. I’m so looking forward to meeting them all on Monday!

In a discussion earlier today with another teacher, I mentioned that, early in my teaching career, I viewed the children in my classroom, regardless of age, as my “students.” Granted, I was young and only 4 years older than some of the oldest students at that particular school… but I really kept that teacher/student professional distance that I was warned about. “Draw that line between you and your students” was pounded into my head over and over in my teacher undergrad methods classes.

For me, it wasn’t until my own daughters started school that I started to really think differently. When they became “students,” I wanted their teachers to think of them as more than just students. These were precious gifts I was entrusting to them. I wanted my daughters’ teachers to care about them as individuals, not just as “students.”

As a teacher, that thinking changed EVERYTHING for me. When I returned to teaching in 2009, 445 students became MY kids, too. Learning their names and learning styles wasn’t enough. I needed to know about their passions, their hopes, their fears, their strengths. I needed to remember that each one of those children was someone’s pride and joy… that, even on days when they were not always exactly likable, that I cared enough about them to do what was best.

This year, someone else is teaching some of my kids at that school in Omaha. I moved away, and I miss them terribly. But there’s a new school now with new faces. I will have far fewer names to learn, but my goals are the same. These students will become my kids very soon. I will care about them as the special individuals they are. We’ll learn about each other, respect each other, and become a community together. And when we run into each other at the grocery store, the mall, or the movie theater, I will introduce them as my kids, not my students.

I know that might seem trivial to some… or maybe even just differing terminology for the same definition. But to me, it has made a huge difference in teaching. These aren’t just some other people’s kids in my classroom; they’re mine now, too. How lucky we are as educators to be blessed by all the many children whose lives touch ours!

ISTE 11 Reflection

My family jokes with me that attending ISTE is just an excuse for me to have a vacation with my friends. As I sit and think about that, I know that some part of it is true. Where else can I go to find 18,000 or so people who share with me many of the same core values and beliefs about education?

Another big part of ISTE is attending some great sessions… and there were so many great sessions! From EduBloggerCon on Saturday to poster sessions, ISTE Unplugged, and even taking part in presenting a panel session with three great educators whom I admire greatly… there’s just so much learning and sharing taking place at this conference!

But the most valuable part of attending ISTE for me is the building of relationships. In some cases, it’s about seeing old friends, catching up, and bonding. It’s also about meeting new people, discussing new ideas, learning from each other, and beginning conversations that will continue long past the closing keynote at ISTE (which, by the way, was a phenomenal closing keynote by Chris Lehmann– go watch it here if you haven’t already!).

I’m not sure why this last point is so difficult to explain to people who have never experienced it. The experiences we have– whether they’re taking place in a session, in the Bloggers’ Cafe, the Newbie Lounge, walking to lunch, or at a table while listening to some really fun karaoke– seem, to many people on the outside,  like one big party. In some ways, that may be true… BUT it’s also much, much more than that. The friendships I’ve forged in attending ISTE conferences over the last 6 years have been some of the most meaningful, both professionally and personally. These are not my “imaginary” or virtual friends and colleagues. These are real people who have enriched my life for the better.

When Competition Fails Us

trophyThere are many discussions amongst world leaders, economists, business leaders, and educators about the pros and cons of competition. Some of the most spirited debates in which I’ve participated have centered around competition and students. Arguments usually include the following:

[cc licensed photo by mtsofan]

  • Students will face competition at every level of their lives. They need to learn to compete early and often.
  • K-12 students will graduate and compete for a prime spot in a college or university.
  • University students will graduate and compete globally for their own spots in a global economy.
  • We have to prepare them to compete. Period.

I’ve taught in both the secondary and elementary levels in public K-12 education. I’ve witnessed kids competing for spots on athletic teams, music performing groups, art awards, National Honor Society and other honoraries… for grades, for representing the class as valedictorian, for speaker at graduation… to be first in line for lunch, first in line for recess, for the fastest time at Field Day, for a solo at the 4th grade program…

… for the biggest helping of lunch (because it’s probably the only meal of the day)… for that coat in the lost and found (because there isn’t enough money at home to buy one)… for the attention of the teacher (because attention from an adult is rare and precious outside of school)…

It seems to me that kids live and breathe competition every day of their lives.

When do they learn to work toward the good of all?

Maybe I’m just getting old and sentimental, but watching the news out of Japan after the horror they’ve experienced in the last month has me really thinking… if we spend so much time on competition and racing to be the best, that leaves a LOT of people in our dust. What if people need our help? What about those people left behind? Should we sit and smugly congratulate ourselves on being the best and beating everyone else? How does that help us as a society in the long-term?

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not advocating that we give out “participation” trophies or ribbons for just showing up and not putting forth any effort. It just feels like we’ve cultivated a culture of competition at any cost, and that’s where I see so many problems.

In my music classroom, my students and I often discuss that our goals are very different than they are in other classrooms. No matter what we’re doing, whether it’s preparing for a concert/performance, or simply learning a song for the sake of the music, we’re learning together. “In math class, it’s all about YOU. In music class, it’s all about US.” They probably tire of hearing me say that, but it sticks with them. I heard one of my students explaining the concept to a new student one day.

When we learn something new- a new recorder song, for example- there are going to be some kids who learn more quickly than others. In our environment, those “advanced” kids now have a special responsibility: help those students who haven’t yet learned the song. We do a lot of peer group work, and I am either walking around as a guide or am working with those who need the most help. With shared responsibility in the class, we see improvement in all. More importantly, I see my students building skills in patience, empathy, and caring, as well as their own musical skills.

Now for a little disclosure: I’m a highly competitive person; but I think as I’ve grown up, it’s become more about competing with myself and less about competing with others.

At what point does competition, whether it’s in the market place or in the classroom, do more harm than good? When corporations throw ethics under the bus to eke out higher profits, everyone suffers except for the people at the top. When we push kids to compete against each other in everything they do, they learn that the SELF is more important than the collective GROUP.

And in the end, nobody wins… especially not kids.

I know there are a lot of people who disagree with me on this subject, so let’s have it. Debate me in the comments, please.

The EduCon Experience- A Collaborative Reflection

I was so fortunate to facilitate a conversation at EduCon 2.3 with Kyle Pace, Yoon Soo Lim, and Elizabeth Peterson! We are four very passionate educators, and talking about Cultivating Connections through Arts Integration is obviously something about which the four of us are deeply passionate.

We wrote a reflection, along with Andrew Garcia (who attended our EduCon session virtually) about our experience collaboratively in Google Docs. Elizabeth has posted the “finished product” on her blog. Please take some time to visit and read about the continuing conversation (#artsint on Twitter)!

The EduCon Experience- A Collaborative Reflection

Readiness

Ready 4 what?

Ready 4 what?

As a teacher and parent, I’m constantly reminded that children learn at different rates. Sometimes, it’s an issue of what is developmentally appropriate and, other times, it’s about their readiness. For some kids, there are occasions when they simply are not ready to learn something new. It might be due to some current event in their lives or whether they had breakfast that morning… whatever the case, it’s my job to help them get to that stage of being ready to learn.

Repeat after me: I cannot force readiness.

[cc licensed photo by kevindooley]

Now I want to transfer this same concept to adult learning, and in this case, professional growth of educators, specifically in the areas of ed reform, social media, and other web tools.

There are many, and I would include myself, who are considered early adopters in the above areas. We clamor for change NOW and reform NOW. For years, we’ve been using certain tools that some people are only now discovering. For example, I started blogging over seven years ago. There are quite a few people who have been blogging for much longer than I have. When a new tool comes around, I’m usually hopping on that bandwagon to see what it’s about, does it provide value to me, and will I continue to use it. It’s in my nature to tinker around with something that interests me. Sometimes, I get impatient that change doesn’t happy quickly enough for my tastes.

Because I’m an early adopter in these areas, it might be easy for me to then complain about the “glacial pace” of other educators when it comes to learning about new ideas, new tools, and making real changes in education. Come on! I’ve been doing this for almost a decade… get a move on! Maybe I would express my frustration about the perceived banal chatter or echo chamber mentality regarding topics that I’ve already been discussing with my networks for years.

But that would be extremely hypocritical of me. If there are children who, for one reason or another, are not ready to learn a concept or skill, it’s my job to help them move along and get to that place where they are ready.

So… shouldn’t I also be accepting of other educators who have not quite reached that state of readiness? Shouldn’t I continue to offer my assistance, perhaps in the form of webinars or online opportunities, to help fellow educators learn about those things that are new to them, even if they’re not necessarily new to me? What about brand new educators? What if they were not exposed to any of these things in their teacher education? How will they find new ideas? Where will they receive options to extend their own professional growth?

The answer is the same as it was with the children: I cannot force readiness. I can only do what I can to help others move to that next step in their own growth. Peer coach. Offer suggestions. Offer assistance. Show real examples of how using these tools or participating in something like an Elluminate session on a Saturday helps me to learn more.

Being an educator and early adopter doesn’t mean I get to a point where I get to dictate where the rest of the world “should” be. Nor does it mean I should look down my nose at those who are still offering discussions and PD sessions about things I might already know.

When I teach other adults about web tools and networks, I constantly bring up the fact that you use those tools which offer value to YOU. If you’ve used a tool for a while, and it no longer has value for you… it’s okay to stop using that tool. Even if many other people are just discovering it, you don’t have to use that tool.

While you’re making those decisions about what holds value for you, please try to remember that others will have different needs and will value different things. They will be at different stages of readiness… and that’s okay. I’ve found that it’s easier to bring people along with you when you don’t treat them like n00bs.

What I Want for Reform

reformAs I sit and ponder what to write about education reform for National Blogging for Real Education Reform, I think back to the numerous posts I’ve written the last few years… and I don’t want to rehash the same things over and over again.  Here’s what I do want:

  • I want parents, children, and actual educators to have voices in Washington that are heard, appreciated, and heeded. If the politicians were really listening to us, we wouldn’t need this concerted effort to blog for “real” reform.
  • I want schools where children can be free to learn, explore, discover, and be happy and safe.
  • I want adults to understand that children have the ability to make choices about their education, and that they don’t require adults to make ALL the decisions ALL the time.
  • I want children to be allowed to develop their strengths and interests beyond reading and writing. Science, Math, Social Studies, Music, Art, Physical Education, Family and Consumer Sciences, Civic Studies… these are all essential for children.
  • I want people to know that, even though I have over 430 students, I can tell you at any given moment who is meeting objectives in my classroom, who is excelling in my classroom, and who is struggling. I can also tell you how much each child has progressed in the last two years, which is how long I’ve been in this particular school. And guess what? They’ve never taken one standardized test in my classroom. They show me what they know and are able to do by DOING.
  • I want adults who make policies and laws to remember that every child is different. If my job is to ensure that they learn through those differences, perhaps the measures by which we ‘assess’ should also be different.
  • I want to be trusted as a professional to do my best every day. The amount of money you pay me will make no difference in how diligently I work. Please do not insult me or my colleagues by assuming that I will work harder for more pay. The kids deserve better than that, and so do educators.

Want to know more about how I feel about education? I’ve written a lot. Start with these:

A Lesson On Accountability – Part I

A Lesson On Accountability- Part II

I Am A Teacher

This is a LEARNING Class

The Art of the Opus

It’s My Pleasure

[Hit the archives links in the sidebar for more.]

There you have it… my wishes for education. I’m passionate about working with children, and I’m passionate about a free public education. Without it, there is no real chance at a democratic society. But without leaders who listen, there is no democratic society at all.

Ed Leaders: Do the right thing. Open your eyes, your ears, your minds, and your hearts. Find compassion. Somewhere, in the middle of all that, the answers are staring right at you.

The Curiosity of Children

curiosity

cc licensed photo by docmoreau

I love the natural curiosity of children.

Today, my nephew (who is 5 and in kindergarten) looked at his dad (my little brother), and asked him about a song they had heard this morning in church. He said, “Daddy… will you teach it to me?” He knew the words already, but he wanted to learn how to play the song on the piano.

Because this child has grown up in a very  musical family, he has been exposed to all types of music and instruments.  My brother sat at the piano, played the song for him and sang it with him, and then started to teach him the chords. His little hands are barely big enough to play the triads, but he did it. He played an e minor triad and an a minor triad in a little less than a few minutes.

The point of this blog post is not how brilliant my nephew is.  As I sat and listened to the two of them learning at the piano, his question resounded with me, and I knew I had to write about this.  “Daddy, will you teach it to me?”

How many times as teachers and/or parents  have we heard a child ask us to help him/her learn something?

  • Will you show me?
  • Will you read this with me?
  • Will you help me?

How many times have we been too busy to do just that? How many times have we said, “Not now. I’m busy,” or “We’re not on that part of the book yet. Please sit down and wait.”

I think about some of the things that happen in my music classroom, and I wonder… if I had pacing guides or rigid curriculum scripts,  would I have the freedom to stop what we’re doing and encourage that child’s natural curiosity?

Another interesting thought… if you answered “yes” to hearing children ask you those questions, my guess is that you are either a parent/relative of young children or a teacher of young children. I have a feeling that a lot of our older children have lost a sense of curiosity or have been discouraged from asking those types of questions.

Am I way off the mark here? If so, I apologize. But if I’m not… what can WE do as parents and educators to ensure that the natural curiosity of children of all ages is encouraged and cultivated?