Thursday, February 8, 2018

on struggling.


I was pretty addicted to change in my twenties.  The unknown.


Faraway places, strangers with friend potential, the high of joining a new school community, fresh views, freedom of the past and strengthened long-distance relationships.  


Six times in my twenties, I started over.  Running to-not from, careers,  relationships, and desirable geography, it was more of a thrill than a struggle.  For nine years I did this, chasing the dream, until, once upon a time, it wasn’t so dreamy anymore.


Unexpected circumstances introduced me to Los Angeles, the city of a magical climate, beach, ocean, the mountains and, if you desire it-a nature-inspired lifestyle.  What better environment to “start over” in...fresh food fare and limitless diverse subcultures for any international transplant to get inspired!  Yeah, there was the traffic and the subtle superficiality in some pockets, but Los Angeles was definitely a relationship I wanted to explore further.


In my practically customized fit environment, the struggle, as they say, was real.  Not because of LA, but because of my circumstances. Because of me.   


Mister Trader Joe fed me well though.  Cheap red zin, sea salt dark chocolate and blocks of hard cheese reigned as staples while I rode the highs and lows of my rediscovered solo lifestyle.  This was not tragedy or illness, but it definitely was not happy times.  


As strangers turned into friends and surrogate families, and as I learned from my disconcerting poor decisions (and there were plenty), I gradually rose above the darkness.  Day by day for two years, under that forever sunshine, I was changed.  Harder.  Better.  Faster.  Stronger.  


LA never quite convinced me to buy into “everything happens for a reason,” or “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,”  but in retrospect it did strengthen my core.  


And tonight I find myself back in the City of Angels, far from home but still feeling like home.  Sinking deeper into the hotel-grade, bleach-white, plush duvet, coated with the peering afternoon sunset-ahhhh.  I love this place.   Intermittently, I begin to reflect, as I often, overdo.  


Grapple.  The buzz word of this week’s educators conference.  Grapple.  Let your kids grapple.  Grapple with text.  Grapple with unknown words.  Let’s grapple with this next question.  


Grapple could be the next Grape Snapple flavor.  I like it.  


This new lingo, though, began to irk me a bit.  Grapple means struggle.  Why can’t we just say struggle?  Is struggle a bad word or something?  Who knows, maybe grapple just sounds more refined.  


Despite my resistance to this trendy term in teaching, I can really dig the relevance of grappling in our state of education.  


Experiencing one of the most transitional educator conferences ever, the educational philosophers, the data and fellow teachers across the nation reminded me that the foundation of quality teaching is about being equitable.  


Curriculum and instruction are often presented as distinct from equity and other core values.  Slide after slide of knock-you-in-your face data began to reveal just how interconnected it all really is. Thinking about equity, I was reminded to ask myself, Why do we lower our standards for struggling students?  


I’m guilty of doing it. I mean, I do have high expectations for all students based on their individualized level. Or “where they’re at,”  but is that high standards for all?  My fifth graders should be diving into fifth-grade leveled texts and investigating fifth grade level math and science, or above, but are they all?  Well sometimes.


Leveled text and guided math groups sometimes dominate my daily schedule.  Probably only half of my kids actually read aloud for a significant amount of time per day.  And I admit to trading complexity and rigor for student engagement far too often.  


Fun times equals engagement equals well-behaved students, am I right?


In other words, I often offer easier books, simplified math problems, and overly praised feedback on writing pieces all to satisfy and “build up” my students who consistently perform below grade level on assessments.  They grow and grow, but still continue fall short of meeting the mark.    


This week has got me thinking, would these students still be struggling if I pushed them harder?  And, what are they thinking when they’re given lower level texts than their friends?  What about the “high” kids who see their friends getting easier math problems than them?  What happens there?  Psychologically, even?


And ultimately, why am I so scared of bringing up their frustration levels, in the name of long term growth and learning?  


Don’t get me wrong, as I was reminded this week, scaffolding plays a huge role in all of this.  The difference is, that we can create scaffolds to support kids to access the “hard stuff,” rather than offering below-grade level materials that could put them further and further behind.  


And we don’t want kids to hate school.  We want them to feel safe to make mistakes and comfortable when challenged.  We want them to have options when they graduate and live happy lives full of choices.  


Thinking big picture, even if a fifth grader jumps two grade levels in reading in one year, what does that say if he was at a second grade level to begin with?  Will the child ever catch up?  


Reflection is at the heart of our practice.  Half the time, I contradict my own thoughts fifteen times before I put them out there, and in all honesty, many of my own educational revelations have come from struggle.  


Success stories came from failure.  Gurus, mentors and my teacher comrades offered me tools to get through the struggle and the support to see the light at the end.  Drowning never did me any good, but neither did any hand-holding.  


But, man, am I thankful for my support systems.  


Los Angeles taught me the power of tough love back then, and again now as I engage in this week-long seminar.


Now back in the cozy comfort of my own couch, with my sweet baby girl and awe-inspiring husband, I take a deep breath.  Ahh.  I love this place.  


Power to the teacher!  


For my fellow reading teachers, here is a snippet of food for thought regarding small group instruction and leveled texts.  

Link here!