on parents as teachers.

I’m newish to momhood and my perspective is that of a co-parent to an ultra easy going toddler, and so far, being a mom is pretty great.  If my own mother is right, though, my daughter will one day evolve into the back-talking, know-it-all fourteen-year old I once was.

Dear God, I hope not.  

Rolling with the punches and embracing the highs and lows is standard training wheel practice for new parents. From what I hear, it only gets harder.  The love grows and grows, and so does the complexity of decision making.  And oh how the love grows...

Guilt, self-doubt and forever responsibility whispers, Am I a bad parent?  Is my kid this way because of me?  And so it goes..

As an educator, pre-baby days, I hated when my students' parents asked me if I was a parent.  

“Um, no...someday, though.”  

Internally I knew what they meant.  Are you a parent?  Because if you aren’t, then you just don’t get it, lady.  

We both knew that quality teachers need not be parents, but it wasn’t until recently that I understood the skepticism.  

Coming off double rounds of conferences from my former job and now my current, October brought me nearly twelve hours of parent-teacher face time.  From enlightening to disappointing to emotional, as always, parent-teacher conferences proved to be well-worth the time investment for everyone.   

I’ve been a parent for nearly two years now, however, this month revealed the new teacher-as-a parent-me, more than ever.   

1. I’m nicer to parents.  I don’t sugar coat the truth, but I’m just nicer.  
2. I sandwich comment everything. Positive comment + (what to work on) + positive comment.  On tough days, as a parent, it feels good to know you’re doing something right.  
3. I take things less personally.  Chances are, the parent breathing fire onto your stack of ungraded papers as you smile and nod, is either mad at herself, her kid or something else entirely.  Teachers are an easy target.  I mean, who wants to admit their child is just plain lazy?  Or worse...a bully?

Maybe this recent reflection is something I should’ve learned pre-parenthood, as an educator, but never did.  And maybe it’s all nonsense.  

Maybe, though, it’s the self-doubt and gut-wrenching love for my daughter that makes me think a little more deeply about how I frame things to parents.  If I were this kid’s parent, how would I receive this?  (Well if I were this kid’s parent, I would teach him to respect adults, and be kind to his peers, and...and..and...)

Hey, I didn’t say my mindset has changed-it’s my approach that has changed.    Just kidding.  Sort of.  Power to the teacher!

on being the cool teacher.

Mr. Robinson was not cool.  Fly-away gray hair, speech after preach about oxymorons and onomatopoeia, with a dry sense of humor that my fourteen year old self-centered attitude could care less about...this man was not all that and a bag of chips in 1996.  

I do recall, though, Mr. Robinson respecting my input on the upcoming figurative language unit.  

“Next week we’ll dive into Toy Story’s generous offering of imagery, symbolism and irony.”

“Realllly Mr. Robinson?  Ugh. That’s a kids’ movie.” I faintly rolled my eyes as he leaned over to check my work.  

Five days later, he introduced our rarely-ever satisfied junior high school English class to the genius Bobby Fischer.  Mr. Robinson used his special teacher powers to reveal metaphors and personification as we uncovered the true depth of the world famous chess champ via biopic.  

Clearly I was too cool for school to appreciate Mr. Robinson at the time, but as the story goes, years later, cozied up at a Michigan State University Coffee Beanery over a twelve-page English paper, I remembered this great teacher.  All of the irony and oxymoron mumbo jumbo meant something.

This teacher knew exactly what he was doing and I was too young and dumb to realize it.  

Actually, my favorite teacher that year was our health teacher because we “birthed egg babies” and carried them from class to class for two weeks.  Naming my new “daughter,” Savannah, and journaling about the whole experience for a huge chunk of my grade beat boring English class.

Oh, to be fourteen again... 

I am not the cool teacher.  I used to be the cool teacher in my novice days, and some kids might think I’m cool on some days, but I doubt I'll be remembered as a favorite.  

Via today’s text conversation, my comrade out east shared this wise analogy: Good teaching is like good parenting.  Kids who grow up to have strong values and ethics hated their parents as tweens and teens.  These kids might not have had the cool parents, but in the long run it paid off.  

Student engagement is a non-negotiable for myself and most teachers.  Project-based learning, inquiry investigations, page turning novel studies and more fill our classrooms with joy and student success.  The crux of it all, though, has to be rooted in standards-based instruction.  

Research-based best practices and tasks that build stamina and self-discipline may not be the popular student vote, but hey, it works.  

Strong student-teacher relationships are definitely necessary for learning.  If positive mentor relationships were all that kids needed, though, then basketball coaches and pastors and parents could all take our jobs tomorrow.

We all know, however, that teachers are more than just mentors. We all know that school can’t be party time 100% of the day, 180 days per year.  And we all know that, despite possible insecurities or external pressures, the cool teacher doesn’t always mean, the effective teacher.  

Hey teachers, you know your stuff.  You listen to your kids and you plan with their interests in mind.  You are mindful of what it’s like to walk a lesson in their shoes.  You get it.  

So we shall let the students trust in us, and we shall trust in Vygotsky or Piaget or Marzano or our comrade teacher down the hall.  

We may not be cool, but hopefully, we help our students uncover the coolness of learning along the way.  

Power to the teacher!

on following your heart. part one.

Last week I left my job to follow my heart.  

I’m not referring to the sometimes crippling devotion to my husband and daughter kind of heart, I’m talking about my teacher heart.  

Honestly, it was time I started practicing what I preached.  My last blog post was on integrity and not long before that-on schools on boats.  Who was I to be nudging teachers to commit themselves to innovation and transformation when I didn’t take my own advice?

Gaslighting myself about the perfect daily schedule, teaching my favorite grade and content, and serving in an organization with kids I loved and adults that supported me, is why I stayed so long.

Resigning felt like more of a healthy breakup- it’s not you it’s me.  Or-we just don’t want the same things anymore.  And then there was-we’re just at very different points in our lives right now.  

The truth is, I could no longer fully commit myself in an environment that didn’t make me happy.  And since I knew the catalyst for this dissatisfaction, I sought out a school setting that better aligned with my educational values.  And I took the job.  

Despite discrete eyerolls from fellow educators, I have no shame leaving in October.  My students deserve a teacher who believes in her practices and a teacher who they can trust to provide them with the tools they will one day access to achieve their dreams.

I am that teacher... I just can’t be that teacher in any setting.  Fortunate enough to have a wide range of teaching experiences to pull from, the reality for me comes down to values.  

Do I believe that I’m doing right by kids everyday?  Will these lessons offer students a path to future happiness?  Would I want my own child experiencing this curriculum?  

It was better to say goodbye then to unintentionally project my negativity upon my students.  I loved my staff, loved my kids and loved my bosses.  My heart just couldn’t hold on any longer.  

And I don’t apologize for that.  I just wish (for my students’ sakes) I would’ve listened to my heart sooner.  

So we’ll see what happens.  This marks the first time I followed my heart to a new position in the same city.  Will it feel different? Or are all New Orleans’ schools inherently similar but just wrapped in contrasting pretty packages?

And does the system ultimately dictate the type of education our kids will experience?  

Only time will tell.  For now, though, things are looking up...and my teacher heart is feeling good!

Power to the teacher!