on vacation mode.

Whenever my husband asks me what day it is, I roll my eyes and respond.  I mean, how do you not know what day it is?  He clearly doesn’t feel the “nine-to-five” life.  Welp, he just asked and I had to think about it.  Um..Tuesday? Point taken.  

I’m officially in vacation mode.  Typing on a Tuesday from the comfort of my girl, Sarah’s, now Cheerio coated couch, in sunny Burbank, California, I don’t even remember what day it is.  

This is different from the three free days in September or the two weeks in December by far.   Teachers can identify the day of the week in the midst of vacation, based on how many days we have left.  Conversations over bacon and Bloody Mary’s with teacher-friends about how, “at this time, we’d be walking our kids to lunch," reveal this truth.  We cheers to the freedom and collaboratively gloat about how sweet life can be.  

Who knew that the same teacher collective would gather ‘round the over-due-for-a-cleaning-staff microwave just eight days later and commiserate about our teacher life?  Most teachers have an all-in mentality when it comes to their craft.  Often, we put all in, leaving not much for ourselves and our loved ones.  The “work hard, play hard” motto applies to occupations that allow for leaving work at the office door, but for teachers, we work so intensely that our only remaining energy to play hard, is spent.  Netflix, Thai takeout and a bottomless bottle of Zin becomes our “play hard.”

Then, once a year, the Gods of Balance bless us with summer vacation.  Monday isn’t peering around the corner with a satchel full of ungraded papers.  Email is irrelevant.  Lesson inspiration is pretty meaningless unless you plan to write unit plans over the summer, which everyone knows is bad for your health.   

Honestly, if you didn’t open your laptop for another month, no one would even notice.  Who needs to “unplug” on vacation, when most every other educator tucks their plugs away for the next two months?  No unplugging necessary!

In two months, our lives will turn back upside down, and, with the dawning of a new year, toothy grins will greet us at the door to graciously remind us why we do what we do.  

We love our kids, and although we think of them, we are not responsible for them this summer. I like to think of it as if I quit a job last week,  and I’m hired for a new one come fall.  Clean slate, clean start, clear head, clear calendar.  My family is vacationing and so is my head.  

Happy vacationing teachers!  Power to the teacher.  

on teaching teenagers.

Two nights ago,  I found myself watching YouTube videos of the late Chris Cornell over and over again.  I don’t know if it was his voice, his wide-opened soul, or the combination of both with his recent death that gutted me, but it did.  

Nostalgia is a funny thing.  

Why is it that when a musician we loved in our teen years dies, and dies especially young… it cuts so deep?  It evokes feelings of nostalgia that we can’t quite articulate.  Even though you were never "real friends," you feel like you lost a part of you.  

Well, in a way, you did.  Adolescence is a time of vulnerability, insecurity, and internal growth.  You get this slight taste of pure freedom, but not enough to escape the limitations of your parents and teachers.  You want to rebel, and maybe you do, but there are consequences.  This is the phase where you’re not a child, you’re not an adult -you’re somewhere in between.  At the time, you think it’s purgatory but you learn in retrospect that it was the best learning curve of your life.  

As teens, we hang on to anything or anyone that we connect with.

Humans are emotional beings, and as we grow into our own as teenagers, we begin to think for ourselves for the first time. These emotions can drive our everyday existence, taking us into the future before we even know it.  

As a sixth grade teacher, I’m privy to the social and emotional challenges 12 and 13 year old’s face. My compare and contrast essay is the last thing on their minds.  Knowing this and reflecting on my sentimental reaction to Chris Cornell's death, I remind myself that middle school is all about emotions.

I get mad at myself for being so focused on the academic “end game”  and forgetting that (as they say)  it's not about the destination, it's about the journey.

Green Day, Biggie Smalls, TLC, the Chili Peppers and Nirvana were pretty much life changers for me.  All discovered in a time where I needed them the most.  A boy rejects you?  Your parents divorce?  Best friend betrays you? Escape in the music.

You start to realize the power of music, and that you’re not alone.  People go through stuff in life and survive.  

Kids have to feel their learning. They have to connect. They have to talk about it with their friends and remember the experience long after they've left middle school.

Finding that sweet spot of academic rigor mixed with emotional connection just might be the key. It’s all about giving teenagers what they want and what they need, even if they don't know what’s good for them yet.

Both educator and awkward teen a heart, I sometimes transport my “teacher-self”  to my Soundgarden days and ask..Would I give a **** about this lesson if I were 13?

If the answer is no, I wouldn’t give a ****, then I move on to the next idea.

Getting kids to care and connect to your lesson is not an easy feat, but it is a goal that I hold onto for dear life.  

Teenagers just want to feel like their learning means something, that it’s real and (without sounding too dramatic) apart of who they are.  

In the words of the late Kurt Cobain, “Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be.”   In the age where you’re just trying to figure out who you are, kids are lucky to have teachers that know what it’s like to be that pimply-faced teen with a whole lot else on their mind than algebraic equations.  

If we can find a way to help them connect and see our lessons as an experience, we might be one step closer to making an impression that lasts a lifetime.  

Power to the teacher.

on comparing yourself.

Last week, we switched up the baby’s bedtime book routine from Goodnight Moon to Giraffe’s Can’t Dance, by Giles Andreae.  Gotta keep it spicy, right? Oh, if my former self could hear me now.  

I’m guessing picture book authors and illustrators draft their storyboards with timeless life lessons anchoring their vision.  Who needs The Bell Jar and The Scarlet Letter when there’s The Giving Tree and The Very Hungry Caterpillar?  (I’m just making a point here, those are two of my favorite literary works and obviously beyond baby book messaging).  

This new bedtime book, however, woke me up.  Foggy from the workday, squeezing my bundle and rocking to the rhythm of Giraffe’s Can’t Dance, I wondered if Giles Andreae’s storyboard had teachers and other service-sector job doers in mind.  

The story (with excerpts) goes like this…

Now every year in Africa they hold the Jungle Dance,

Where every single animal turns up to skip and prance.

And this year when the day arrived poor Gerald felt so sad,

Because when it came to dancing, he was really very bad.

Translation: We show up each day ready. We are teachers, here to teach!  Rarely, though, do we admit that we’re good at it. We often think like Gerald.    

The warthogs started waltzing and the rhinos rock’ n’ rolled.

The lions danced a tango that was elegant and bold.

The chimps all did a cha-cha with a very Latin feel,

And eight baboons then teamed up for a splendid Scottish reel.

Translation: We notice the many amazing teachers at our school.  The teacher who commands attention when she enters a room, without even speaking.  The teacher whose kids are always smiling and laughing.  The teacher who’s grown her students three reading levels in one year.  

Gerald swallowed bravely as he walked toward the floor,

But the lions saw him coming, and they soon began to roar.

“Hey, look at clumsy Gerald,” the animals all sneered.

“Giraffes can’t dance, you silly fool! Oh, Gerald, you’re so weird.”

Translation: We are the Geralds who aim to stand tall and confident.  We fake it till we make it.  Then, so swiftly, someone or something knocks us down.  

Gerald simply froze up. He was rooted to the spot.

They’re right, he thought. I’m useless. Oh, I feel like such a clot.

So he crept off from the dance floor, and he started walking home.

He’d never felt so sad before, so sad and so alone.

Translation: Deep down, though, we hold on to that one negative reaction or comment, and let that define us.  We carry those words or that experience with us for the rest of the day, the week, or even longer.  We ask ourselves why we can’t be like those amazing teachers. What's wrong with us? 

Then he found a little clearing,and he looked up at the sky.

“The moon can be so beautiful,” he whispered with a sigh.

“Excuse me!” coughed a cricket who’d seen Gerald earlier on.

“But sometimes when you’re different you just need a different song.”

Translation: Sooner or later, the universe sends us a gift.  Maybe it’s a friend that offers a new perspective or reminds us of our beautiful individuality, and why we’re so special.  

“Listen to the swaying grass and listen to the trees.

To me the sweetest music Is those branches in the breeze.

So imagine that the lovely moon Is playing just for you

– Everything makes music If you really want it to.”

Translation: We are O-RIGI-IN-AL.  Sometimes we just have to take a step back and celebrate that.  We can dance to the beat of our own drum and teach to the sound of our kids breaking pencils.   

Even if we aren’t Geralds every day, we are on some days.  

We know what our weaknesses are like no other.  When we see someone who is strong in our weak area, all of a sudden, they are the perfect teacher and we suck.

For real though...They are not perfect, and we do not suck.  Strengths and weaknesses are funny like that.  It’s like they erase all of the in-between. Why does it have to be all or nothing?   

In psychology, social comparison theory explains the tendency we have to make comparisons between ourselves and others.  Deep down, I think we know it’s not healthy to compare.  I think we know that individuality is what empowers us and our kids and keeps things spicy.  

Finding our own rhythm is what will make us even better...and perhaps...even happier.  

Power to the teacher.  

on time savers.

I reached to the back seat behind me and took my baby’s apricot sized hand and massaged it so gently it didn’t even faze her.  Still screaming, she hurled the soggy handful of kale-spinach Happy Puffs towards my husband’s freshly shaped afro.  Plucking the puffs from his hair, he looked at me and I knew it was my cue to pump up the volume.  

Pop pop it’s showtime (showtime)

Showtime (showtime)

Guess who’s back again?

Momentarily zoning out and feeling the groove, I was yanked back to another reality- I have to grade the Friday exit tickets by 5.  Just as my husband glides into the super-sized Costco parking lot, powering off Bruno Mars, the car goes quiet.  Ahh silence.  We might have a window.  

Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling through my explosive mess of phone apps, (who needs three different photo apps?) I locate Google Classroom.  My husband folds my hand inside his and I type with my right.  

Done.  Fourteen minutes later, “papers” are graded and my baby girl jolts awake from a toddler throwing a tantrum outside my car window.  

Alright, let’s do this Costco run.  

 

Technology has more recently become my number one time saver. I know tech situations and student access vary from school to school, but as innovation grows and state tests move to online, tech integration is becoming more of a norm than a privilege.  Heck, we don’t even teach cursive anymore!

  

Google Classroom provides a quick and easy option to create a document, make an electronic copy for each student then allow students to login and complete the task.  Easy as 1, 2, 3.  

4 Ways Google Classroom Makes My Life Easier

1. I can grade papers and post assignments from my cell phone.  
2. Any staff member, including special education coordinators can pull up student work docs for IEP meetings and parent conferences.  
3. Less fights with the copy machine and less paper waste.  
4. My students have an online portfolio of their ongoing work.  Growth is all packaged up.  

The biggest thing for me is that less time shuffling papers means more time with my family. More time to focus on creating cool lessons.  For anyone, more time means more opportunity to spend time with people and do things that you love.   Being granted more time can be so freeing!

This summer, why not take a free google classroom tutorial and start small?  Getting Started with Google Classroom

If you do decide to get down with GC, I promise you’ll be saved.  Power to the teacher.  

on reflection.

The restart button we’re blessed with each year is a beautiful thing.  New school year, fresh start, fresh eyes, fresh ideas, fresh class list and fresh new set of whiteboard markers.   

As the school year wraps up and we approach this precious little window of reflection time,  I think about my successes, my failures and how, come August, the slate will soon be clean again.  

In late spring, we get the opportunity to reflect on what turned out to be a disaster, learn from it and drop the major fails in the dumpster of dumb ideas (or maybe the recycle bin of bad timing).  For me, the biggest takeaway this year is that I don’t let my kids collaborate enough. I failed to incorporate enough group work and partner activities.  Blinded by the mission to get students to take ownership of their learning and push them as individuals, I overlooked opportunities for them to talk out concepts and ideas with their peers.   No wonder why I always felt like they were so “chatty.”  That was my bad.  

One of my big wins was tossing out the good ol’ gradual release learning model.   Being less rigid about the I do, we do, you do model and formatting lessons to be inquiry-based was a real eye-opener.   Students independently tackled guided questions (with scaffolding as needed),  then we reconvened for a whole class discussion to share out and analyze findings, clarify misconceptions, and squeeze in a mini-lesson or two before the culminating exit ticket.  

Kids began to encounter authentic reading strategies and had epiphanies about characters or historical events without me spoon-feeding first.  They started to ask more questions and think for themselves.  Persevering through the messiness of trying this new teaching approach reminded me that it takes more than just a few weeks for something or someone to have an impact.  It took six months for me to see the impact here, even just a little bit.  

Teachers may go a whole school year without seeing our impact.  That doesn’t make us less influential...it’s just the way it is.  

Things I Ask Myself Before Summer Break

1. What went well?
2. What went wrong?
3. What did my kids love?
4. What did my kids hate?
5. What can I build on?
6. What can I simplify?

It helps to put it on paper now, not later.  We’ll be in vacay mode this summer and forget or simply not care to reflect.  All these upcoming state testing proctor hours should give us days upon days of meditation and quiet reflection.  No cell phone, no writing tool, nothing but 21 hours of daydreaming and breathing through our mouth from a classroom full of nervous farts, while our students take their thirteenth standardized test of the year.   

Oh what a feeling to tuck your reflection notes away for the summer and dig 'em out when your head’s back in the game.   Ahh, summer days are almost here.   

Power to the teacher.