A is for Attending (not Assuming): #reflectiveteacher Resumes!

Image courtesy of http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/ the-alphabet/images/22186936/title/letter-photo

I know I'm a better teacher when I'm blogging my reflections. Luckily, @teachthought has provided me with a challenge I think I can work with: The Basics of Reflective Teaching Slo-Blog. As suggested, I have adopted an ABC framework, twenty-six entries relating to reflective teaching to be posted at any time this year rather than a 30-day challenge. Let's see what happens!

One of the things I struggle with the most as an instructor is paying attention in the moment. I get so caught up in teaching, and finding the handouts, and figuring out what we're doing next, and remembering which class did what yesterday, and WHY IS THE TECH NOT WORKING???!! I get so mired down in the classroom minutiae that I’m not always attentive to what students are trying to tell me, in words or in actions, much less reflective about what it means.

In my intervention notebook about a week ago, I noted that one of my students was spending a great deal of time staring into space instead of reading. I will call her Ana. Every day I have to personally invite her to start reading while nearly everyone else in the class is already into the routine. This particular day, she had a great deal of difficulty continuing to keep her eyes on the page. When her eyes weren’t wandering around the room, she was talking to her neighbors. I was getting pretty irritated she wouldn't buckle down and focus. I felt like we were developing a negative relationship because of it.

These anecdotal records are very helpful snippets of thought and often lead to further reflection, when I can carve out the time (which is not often enough).  I made an important follow-up error though. On the first day I noticed her lack of focus, instead of just writing it down in my record, I should’ve sat down next to her and listened her thoughts on why this was happening.  But I didn’t.

In all the hustle bustle of the of the forty-five minute class, I struggle to implement conferences in a systematic way. However, I had an Aha Moment when Kylene Beers suggested in this Facebook post that perhaps instead of just recording book logs, we should have kids answer some check-in questions about their independent reading. So I took those questions and made them into a reflective document to get some much-needed feedback from my 132 students. While it doesn't substitute for a conference, this feedback can clarify immediately who is most in need of one at this moment.

What I read on Miss Ana’s reflection humbled me. When asked, “How can I help you read more?” she responded with, “Help me find a book that will help me stay focused.” When asked if she enjoyed her reading, she said she had trouble finding books that would keep her focused and interested. She’d been reading a complicated fantasy book, one she picked up during a "speed-dating" with books activity, for about a week and a half. She was two-thirds of the way through it, but she was clearly not engaged.

This is my fault.  

I was not attentive to the clear signals she’d been giving me.  I was treating her like a discipline problem rather than a kid who needed a better book match.  She didn’t know she had permission to quit an independent reading book. If I had taken a moment or two to attentively reflect on what might be driving her behavior, I could’ve helped her solve this problem a week ago. Instead, I assumed 1) she was not an avid reader, and 2) she knew my “rules” for book abandonment.

When I sat down and talked to her during our intervention period of the day, I said, “You know, I just read your response on the reading check-in, and I was wondering, what was the last book you read that helped you stay focused?”

Ana’s shoulders relaxed immediately. Whew! She wasn't in trouble! She was anxious to tell me about the Canterwood Crest books and her interest in horses. “Can you help me find another series?” she asks.  This “reluctant” reader wasn’t resisting at all! Why, why, why had I not simply visited with her about her reading earlier?!

Immediately, I thought of Miranda Kenneally’s book Racing Savannah, a volume in her terrific series featuring strong, female teen narrators in the fictional Tennessee community of Thousand Oaks. This particular book is about complicated family and class relationships, as well as a teen romance, on a Southern horse farm. I don't have a lot of books about horses, though we raise horses on our Iowa family farm, but I can certainly find them for Ana! I told her to abandon her current book, unless she really wanted to finish it. And most importantly, I told her she didn’t need my permission to do so.  

She is in charge of her independent reading choices.

I asked her to spend ten minutes with this new book to see if it was right for her. Then I walked away and watched. She did not look up once in those ten minutes as the book sucked her into the lives of spunky Savannah, the horse trainer's daughter who wants to become a racing jockey, and Jack, the bright and privileged son of her dad's boss. It was the first time all year Ana read for ten straight minutes.

After a five-minute break at the bell, she spent ten more minutes reading without interruption.

In fact, all week, she has not looked up from her book during reading time, nor has she talked to her neighbors. Yesterday, when I announced it was time to transition to our lesson, she actually groaned, “But this book is SO GOOD!”  Such is the power of the right book, in the hands of the right kid, at the right time. (Thank you, Ms. Kenneally!)

Ana asked if I could help her find a series because most kids, like adult readers, want to hear more about the characters they love, want stories that continue, and they want to know they have a plan for what to read next. A series is one of the best ways to accomplish that. Ana already knew this! If I’d been paying closer attention, I would’ve remembered it, too.

I turned an engagement problem into a discipline problem. But Ana is self-disciplined when she's focused and engaged. All I had to do was pay attention, listen, and act accordingly.

Today I told Ana, I had picked up her next book at Barnes and Noble over the weekend, a new Thousand Oaks book called Jessie’s Girl, about a country music singer. The surprised smile on her face was worth so much more than the cost out of my pocket. A little attention goes a long, long way.

Future Dreams for Education

Day 24:  What are your dreams for education in the future?

I dream of:

longer class periods

smaller classes

more think time

more collaborative time

White Board Wonderland

Day 23 How did your Attitude of Gratitude work out – tell us about it.

Well, I have to say that the "attitude of gratitude" challenge has been a raging success. When I thought about getting student involvement, I thought immediately about how much they like to write on the board, and since I either use the projector or the easel pad, it was no great loss to give up the whiteboard to student control. 

After the first day, they needed little coaxing. Often first hour reminded me long before the bell that I needed to post the gratitude prompt on the board. Occasionally, something cheeky would appear on the board, and after consulting the urban dictionary, I would erase it between classes.  : )  After all, they are in junior high. One day, the word "root" kept disappearing from the phrase "root beer" and someone would notice and correct it.  For the most part though, their gratitude statements were sweet and endearing and fun, like most junior high kids.  I even got in a few teachable moments for spelling and punctuation, as students were strict about proper rules being followed on the board (if only it transferred to their writing, alas!)

As time went on, more and more teachers' names appeared, and so I shared my gratitude board with the staff via email. Since then, multiple teachers have come in and posted their own gratitude on the board. So it would seem the gratitude is indeed infectious. And I'm feeling happier, just as the gratitude challenge website promised I would.

I really like keeping the whiteboard interactive, and I'm wondering how to modify the prompt for December. Perhaps we could count our blessings?  At any rate, I'm sure we'll think of something to last us until March Madness when the board becomes a Tournament of Books. 

See more pictures at http://mrsjenniferpaulsen.weebly.com/gratitude-challenge

It's all my Husband's Fault--Family Traditions

It’s all my husband’s fault—the knitting, I mean.  Worried his Great-Aunt Carol was getting on in years, Chuck predicted the family tradition of awarding all new family members matching hand knit Christmas stockings would die out, unless someone younger took up the craft of knitting.  His mother assured him she could figure it out.  But ignoring her, he turned to me and his brother’s wife Debbie and announced, “I nominate you two.”   Debbie stated she wasn’t remotely interested and helpfully pointed out that Chuck could learn to knit.  He was simply too busy, or so he said, so that left me.

Curiosity overwhelmed me.  Why was my husband being so sentimental?  Was this so important to cause him to open his emotional lockbox and let a feeling escape by verbalizing it?!  In front of his family, no less? He never fails to intrigue me by exposing never-before-suspected mysteries in his personality. 

Hope rose in my heart.  Was it possible I could become more to his family than Wife-of-Chuck or Mother-of-First-Born-Grandchild-Tommy or Liberal-Democrat-with-Disastrous-Financial-Mind? I mean, since bearing the first grandchild, I was pretty much only useful as a taxi for said child.  The thought of adding Knitter-of-Christmas-Stockings to my short list of roles intoxicated me.  Visions of knitting needles danced in my head.  I could uphold a family tradition.  I could belong! 

Eight years after that fateful conversation, I completed my first Christmas stocking by recreating the pattern on graph paper from the stocking I got as a wedding gift.

Bonus: Bookworm Bookmarks

Need:

-Small amount of worsted yarn

-crochet hook size K

-bead or button

-googly eyes

-sewing needle

Directions: 

1) Chain 80 stitches.

2) Skip one stitch, then single crochet six stitches into the next chain to make the head.

3) Double crochet six stitches into the next chain stitch. Repeat this step nine more times. (One "body circle" = 12 stiches, so if striping, change color every 12.)

4) Single crochet six stitches into the next chain to close up the worm.  (You have only used 12 chain stiches.)

5) Work in yarn ends.

6) Finish tail with bead or button on the end.

7) Glue on googly eyes.

Controlled Choreography: On the Dance of Anger

Day 20: What is one life lesson that you are thankful for having learned?  

About 15 years ago, I was introduced to William Glasser's control theory. This simple theory was revolutionary in changing how I approached everything in my life, including my teaching. If you are unhappy, you have two basic choices within your sphere of control 1) change what you're doing in order to get what you want or 2) change what you want. Simple, no?  Identifying what's within my control helped me cope better with the things that are not.

According to Glasser, most behavior choices are made in order to satisfy one or more of these basic needs: freedom, fun, belonging, or power. This information was taught to sophomores at Cedar Falls High School as part of a growing up unit. It provided a psychological lens through which to analyze fictional characters. However, many of my students found this to be applicable to their own lives as well. I had to learn this content well in order to teach it well, and so I read multiple works by William Glasser including The Quality School Teacher and The Quality School, as well as his seminal work Control Theory. 

I found it useful to apply this kind of thinking when working with students whose behavior I didn't understand. When I discuss behavioral choices, both wise and unwise, with students, they understand their own behavior choices better, and I find that they are capable of making better decisions next time when they can put a name on their motivations.  Also it keeps behavior choices in proper perspective. Most misbehavior is not malicious. It is simply the student's need for fun trumping their need to be free during detention. It's usually not about me at all.  This is a lesson that plagued me in my early teaching because I took so much misbehavior personally to heart.

Today, I took control of a situation with a student with whom I have struggled to get along all year. We'll call him Bruce. Bruce asked me last week why I always seem so angry with him. It was certainly a legitimate question. And I've been thinking about it since. Why AM I so angry with this student? And is that anger improving the situation? It made me think of a related book that touches on control: The Dance of Anger. While I cannot control this young man's choices, I can control my own response to those choices. As The Dance of Anger says, you can't change your partner's moves, but you can change yours, and then he has to respond to your changes. So, today I wrote Bruce a note in which I observed that he'd been working harder recently to improve his learning, his behavior, and his attitude. I thanked him for making that choice. I told him I've been thinking about his question and that I felt like my anger stemmed from feeling like I was sometimes working harder for his success than he was--that I could see his brightness and potential, and it hurt to listen to his negative self talk. I was angry because he gave up on himself too easily.  But over the past week, I had seen him change. I valued his increasing persistence over the past week, and I wanted to recognize him for it. I told him that because of this new growth mindset and positive leadership, he had earned a bookworm of the color of his choice. (You wouldn't believe how popular those crazy things are!) And so he came up to me after class with the note and said, "So what do I do about this?"  

Thinking he was a bit daft, I said, "Well, the note's for you. You can keep it."  

He said, "No, the bookworm." 

I smiled at this new earnest intensity. "What color do you want?"

He asked if he could have blue and orange. And then wondered how soon I could be finished. I promised it would be done the next day. He is a Chicago Bears fan. It's plastered all over his blog page. So I had to make sure to get the right shade of blue and orange. A special trip to the yarn store was required. And I made it happen. Never underestimate the transformative healing powers of yarn.

By changing my interaction to a more positive tone and behavior on my part, he has responded in kind. This has been his best week since school started, but I hope it's not the best week of his year. That lies ahead.

When in doubt, asking a student "How are you doing?" or "Are you okay?" usually yields a more positive and productive interaction than jumping on a student about breaking the rules or having their head down. Put your assumptions away. Instead, pull out your curiosity and kindness whenever possible. Remember, you reap what you sow.

Chuck: The Teaching Widow

Day 19:  Tell someone you know how grateful you are for the work they do. Share your story here.

My husband Chuck is a teaching widow.  

I come home from work and continue working til 10 or 11 every night.  He usually cooks and cleans and does laundry while I respond to student work, create learning opportunities, write or read or knit. Even when it doesn't look like I'm working, I am--running through scenarios, making lesson plans, thinking, thinking, thinking, and what-if-ing.  My mind is open 24/7 and working on hyperdrive. 

Every day, my German general husband organizes our son Tommy and I, two Scots-Irish layabouts. If we lived in medieval times, Tommy and I would be traveling bards and Chuck would be running a castle, if not a kingdom. He packs the swimming bag, he warms up my truck when it's cold, he tells me what to put on my calendar and when and where I need to be to pick up or drop off our super-busy boy.  

When he's not organizing us, Chuck is an active leader in the Boy Scout troop.  He is an unofficial leader of the 4H First Lego League group.  He devotes a serious amount of time to the activities that are closest to our boy's heart.  Last weekend he organized and supervised a weekend camping trip for the Boy Scout troop. He spent Friday-Sunday cooped up on the coldest weekend of the year with a large group of boys under age twelve. He even whittles silly totems for them.

In addition, we have numerous sheep, pigs, and horses who need tending.  He's responsible for that, too, attended to by both dogs who think he's the most amazing human on the planet.  Dogs usually have good judgment. I'm not even sure what he does all day out in the barns, but his to-do lists are miles long, and he is always behind. Last weekend, a snow fence appeared on the west boundary, and I didn't even notice it.

He works full-time as a loan officer with a local bank.  He manages the money and pays the bills. Even when I owe Amazon more than he likes for books for my students. And Tommy. And me.  Or Target for yet more bookshelves for the classroom.  It's embarrassing to add up what I spend out of pocket, but he understands my passion and respects my purpose.

He spoils me with homemade cookie dough, he listens when I'm rambling, and when I'm working late in my classroom, he usually shows up with pizza so we can still have a family dinner.  If I do any kind of domestic chore, he thanks me profusely. This is embarrassing to admit.

A mutual friend told him a year she wished she'd had an inspirational English teacher like me, but she wondered what the cost was.  To my husband.  To my son.  To me.  The compliment was so heart-warming, but the cost?  That gave me serious pause.

The cost is high, my friends.

I've seen the investment pay off again and again in my students. But I hope the investment pays off for my son and husband.

Chuck is steady and predictable and reliable.  Yet after 24 years together, he's still capable of surprising me.  And he's still making me laugh. "Thank you" hardly seems sufficient recompense for 

all he does.  I am reminded of a line in the spoken word poem "Origin Story" by Phil Kaye and Sarah Kay that best encapsulates how I feel, "I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you. And I choose both."

Thank you, lovey, for choosing both.

June 21, 1996 on Mom's front porch in Storm Lake, Iowa