Twelve Year Internship

This post is part of a series inspired by the #IMMOOC book study of Katie Martin’s book, Learner-Centered Innovation.  

A few years ago, a friend was at a conference where a speaker commented that teaching is the only profession that has a twelve year internship.  The statement is both funny and painfully true.

So often in my career I’ve seen colleagues happy to stick with the status quo and do what’s always been done.  Behind closed doors they toil away as they always have, asking few questions other than wondering why there has to be change.  I agree with Katie Martin in Learner-Centered Innovation when she says, “when we work in isolation, we limit our potential to develop a full range of capabilities.  In contrast, growth is accelerated by guidance and peer collaboration.”

I cannot emphasize enough how my online life has enhanced my teaching, and I haven’t even scratched the surface of how the online world can impact me professionally.  I’m still somewhat of a lurker, but I love being able to look inside the classrooms of master educators like Aviva Dunsiger (@avivaloca), or glean ideas and new ways of thinking from ONTSpecialNeeds (@ONTSpecialNeeds) or A Kids’ Guide to Canada (@akgtCanada).  The Thursday night chats with the #saskedchat crew are becoming a highlight of my week.  Every single one of the people I interact with or read about online remind me that things don’t have to stay “the way they’ve always been done”.

Teaching in a small, rural school can be extremely lonely and can leave you feeling quite isolated.  I am so grateful for the PLNs I’ve been able to develop through technology, and that they push me to think beyond my “twelve year internship”.

 

Vygotsky and Me

This post is part of a series inspired by the #IMMOOC book study of Katie Martin’s book, Learner-Centered Innovation.  

Most people in education remember that Lev Vygotsky was the Soviet psychologist who developed the concept of the Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD).  ZPD is the sweet spot of learning between what the learner can do without help and what he or she cannot do, as illustrated in this diagram:

from “Innovative Learning”
http://www.innovativelearning.com/educational_psychology/development/zone-of-proximal-development.html

We often talk about ZPD in terms of students, and keep it in mind when developing activities and providing scaffolding.  It’s important to remember, however, that we all have a ZPD, and we need to be cognizant of that when seeking professional development opportunities.

Sometimes I read an idea or watch a video of something that is happening in another classroom, and I feel completely overwhelmed.  Where once I would have beaten myself up about being behind in an area of pedagogy or innovation, I now try to remind myself that the concept or skill is probably currently out of my ZPD.  I set myself incremental goals of how I’ll grow towards that new skill or understanding, and I’ve never failed to see growth.  As Katie Martin says in Learner-Centered Innovation, “supporting individuals requires moving away from the notion that we all need to (or even can) learn the same things at the same time.”

It’s important to remember that Vygotsky wasn’t only talking about students, he was thinking of learners at all ages and stages.  If we can recognize our ZPD and incrementally work toward a learning goal, we will always see growth.

 

Flipping the Org Chart

This post is part of a series inspired by the #IMMOOC book study of Katie Martin’s book, Learner-Centered Innovation.  

The organizational chart for the school division I work in looks like this:

It’s a pretty typical org chart with the Board of Education at the top, followed by the Director of Education, the superintendents, and so on.

A good friend and I have often speculated how education might change if the org chart were to be flipped, so that students took the top spot, followed by front-line staff, staff at division office, with the Board of Education at the bottom.  Would it change the outlook of the system in general?  Would having students at the top of the chart be the constant reminder that we are all there to serve them, and that our relationships with them are of primary importance? If nothing else, I believe the idea would produce interesting discussion.

My school division is a good place to learn and work, but I wonder if this one small innovation would make it even better. I’m not sure if this is “thinking inside the box”, but I believe that having students at the pinnacle of the organization would send a clear visual message that students are first and foremost in the work we do.

 

Producers vs. Consumers

This post is part of a series inspired by the #IMMOOC book study of Katie Martin’s book, Learner-Centered Innovation.

When I listened to the first YouTube Live broadcast with Katie Martin, George Couros, and A.J. Juliani two weeks ago, it made me consider two things:  compliance and creativity in kindergarten, and fighting trained compliance in middle years students.

Teaching kindergarten is a balancing act on so many levels.  Little self-centred human beings enter your classroom every September, and you have to mold them into a community of learners who share, take turns, and take care of each other, while still honouring them as individuals.  I’ve often thought this requires teaching a certain amount of compliance: When is it time to sit and listen to others?  How do we indicate that we have something to say and want a turn?  How are our personal and shared supplies stored and cared for?  In Learner-Centered Innovation, Katie Martin described her daughter’s third-grade teacher commenting that she doesn’t “have a lot of rules and consequences.  I respect students, and I hope they respect me.”  This comment re-framed how I think of my classroom.  I believe any success I have building community with my kindergarten students is firmly rooted in respect, not compliance.

One of the great pleasures of teaching kindergarten is that it is a play-based program.  A confident teacher is able to build on interests and ideas of students in order to reinforce the wide array of skills and outcomes required in the kindergarten curriculum.  As I gain more experience teaching at this age level, I find myself steering away from the “cute” Pinterest-type activities that I direct and manage, to letting students guide me with their interests and needs. Katie Martin describes in Learner-Centered Innovation that “educators who are providing learner-centered experiences have prioritized the learners’ and aligned learning experiences to meet and develop the desires, knowledge, skills, and mindsets.” Through the play-as-work model, kindergarten students are in many ways the greatest producers of learning in the school system, as they work their way through questions and problems every day.

On my non-kindergarten days, I’m a middle years teacher (teaching in a small school provides the privilege of teaching a wide range of ages and subjects).  The difference between five and 13 year olds can be stark!  My grade 7/8s are definitely less likely to take risks in their learning, and they’re definitely more likely to want to know exactly what the expectations of the assignment are, so they can do exactly that much.  Their light for questioning and inquiry seems to be almost extinguished by years of compliance, so that even when they are given the opportunity to participate in learner-centered experiences, they express that they’d really rather not because it seems like a lot of work.  As one grade 8 student said to me this year at the onset of an inquiry project, “Don’t you know the answers to these questions so you can just tell us?”  Where the five year olds are producers of learning, the middle years students are consumers of something they’ve been trained to call learning.

One of the big “a-ha moments” in my career was moving into the role of kindergarten teacher after years spent in middle years, and wondering how the joy and naturalness of learning found in five year-olds could be replicated in older students.  Of course the answer is to stay focused on the learner, to keep that sense of play and discovery, and to create conditions for students to have ownership of their own learning.  Our goal as educators should always be to encourage producers, not consumers.

Evolving

This post is part of a series inspired by the #IMMOOC book study of Katie Martin’s book, Learner-Centered Innovation.

This fall will mark 27 years since I first entered the classroom as a full-fledged teacher.  When I reflect on the journey, and how I’ve evolved as an educator in that time, I often don’t recognize the teacher I was then.  I know the young woman who enjoyed being with her students, dabbled in some early education technology, and strove to refine her skills and knowledge, but I don’t recognize the person who felt the need to be “in charge”, the “expert”, the perfectionist.

Part of my transition to the educator I am today was actually stepping away from teaching for a while.  After eight years in the classroom, including a particularly disheartening year at a school that offered little teacher autonomy and a very tight focus on rules, procedures, and testing, I took ten years off to stay at home with my children.  Coming back to the profession after a decade was confirmation that the job was right for me, but it also made me feel at a huge disadvantage; I felt that I had missed out on crucial discussions, learning about various ed tech advances, and developing updated teaching strategies.  With the support of a wonderful administrator, I threw myself into professional reading and various professional development opportunities, including a series of university classes.  Through these experiences and learning activities, I’ve been able to embrace the evolving role of an educator on several fronts, but still recognize where I have room to grow.

In Learner-Centered Innovation, Katie Martin outlines the four aspects of the evolving role of the educator.  A tweak I would make is to have a greater emphasis on being a Community Developer with students’ families.  Especially as a kindergarten teacher, it’s important to honour those first family relationships students have as they enter the new and larger community of school.  There is so much support and goodwill to be gained by having good working relationships with families, and students are excited and motivated to share their learning with parents and guardians. This is an area that I struggle with and constantly try to improve on, and I am grateful for apps such as Seesaw that make communication and digital sharing so much easier and more satisfying.

The world of education is truly always on the move, and it’s our professional responsibility to question our current practices, and move forward with research-based solutions to best meet the needs of our students.  I have changed so much in 27 years, and I know  – thankfully -the evolution isn’t complete. The ability to constantly evolve and improve is one of the things that makes this profession so exhilarating.

Would He Want to Be Here?

I’m going back to a prompt from a couple of weeks ago . . .

Would I want to be a student in my own classroom?

I’m doubtful this is the right question to ask.  Of course I’d want to be a student in my own classroom . . . I plan learning activities and have discussions around topics that I’m interested in and passionate about.  I’m totally engaged and learning, and so are all the students who are similar in learning styles and interests to me.

My yardstick for my classroom is usually my son, and whether he’d want to be in my classroom.  He’s 15, and school has never been his favourite place.  He’s also not one of those kids who will sit quietly and endure something he’s not enjoying, which means that there’s also been quite a bit of conflict in his school life. And when we talk about it and he tells me why he feels frustrated and unfulfilled at school, I know he has a point.  The one-size-fits-all, sit-down-and-shut-up,  do-what-I-tell-you model that so many classrooms follow doesn’t work for kids like him, if it works for anyone at all.

My son would thrive in a classroom where he had some choice – a choice of where he sits, what he learns, the way in which he completes assignments, the order in which he completes activities.  He’d also be successful with a teacher who he feels cares about him. Because he’s so often “that kid”, there haven’t been many teachers in his life who have made the effort to get to know him – his interests or his fears.  Those who have developed a relationship with him have seen him blossom.

And that’s my question, always –  “Would he want to be here?”  If I can reply that I’m working on relationships with my students, that I’m giving them choice,  that I’m helping them follow their passions, I think I’m doing okay.  And from okay, I can work towards great.

There are few things as enlightening, and humbling,  for a teacher than having your own child struggle in the school system.  My son has been a great catalyst for me to become more innovative so I can better meet the needs of students like him.  I am so thankful to him for making me a better teacher.

School vs. Learning

Can I just take a moment to say how much I love my grade 7/8 students?  I only have them for ELA and social studies, but I’ve taught them in some capacity for three years now, and they really do feel close to being my own.

Something I admire about this group is that, for the most part, they do learning, not school.  Our discussions and activities tend to be all about making connections, and are definitely random and non-linear much of the time.  We can start out talking about immigration, and suddenly be checking the Statistics Canada website for a definition for a rural community, referencing a map to figure out the potential routes for new pipelines in Canada (how’d we get there from immigration??), and then be checking the etymology of a word that’s come up in discussion.  Their favourite learning style always involves something social, and they aren’t afraid to challenge each other or me.

Sometimes I panic and think, “Oh no!  What about the curriculum?!”  The beauty is, when I go back and check the outcomes and indicators, we’re hitting them all, and more.  Not all days are like this, but when they are, I have happy and engaged students, and a happy and engaged teacher.

Learning for the win!

Living in Beta

  GIF

With it being the middle of report card and parent/student/teacher interview time at school, I find myself behind in my #IMMOOC reflections.  A couple of nights ago when I listened to the second YouTube episode, Sarah, George, and Katie all commented on “living in beta”, and I think it was Katie who said something to the effect that if we didn’t work in beta, nothing would ever get done.  So here I am, trying to keep up to the #IMMOOC because I’m living in beta!

  GIF

The line about living in beta resonated with me because I have to keep myself in check from leaning too far into the perfectionist camp, the camp that says, “I’ll try this once I’ve finished reading the book”, or “I can’t start that until I have a full plan in place.”  My natural inclination is to have my ducks in a row before moving forward, and to be “ready”.  I should know after all these years, that no matter how much work you do in education, there’s still more to be done, and the only time you can have the illusion of being “done” is June 30.

And so this week was a good reminder to jump right in and start working on something new, whether those ducks are wandering all over the yard or not.  We’re all working in beta, and I need to give myself permission that it’s okay to do that.

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My Ideal School

I find it interesting that the whole “relationships are the most important thing in education” line of thinking plays itself out when I think about my ideal school.  The first thing that jumps into my mind isn’t the actual structure, the resources, or the curriculum.  Rather, it’s the people I would fill it with.

I’ve been fortunate to teach in many different schools in my career (across three provinces).  I am confident in saying that kids and parents are basically the same everywhere.  There is never enough money for resources to do the things you’d really like to do in education, no matter the government involved.  There is always assessment and curriculum to be questioned for the value it provides to students.  But everywhere, there are great people who are making everything work, no matter what the odds, and inspiring the rest of us as they do it.

My ideal school could be a broken down barn with few resources, but the people I’d populate it with would make it exceptional.  They would make it exceptional because of their passion, their knowledge, their ability to collaborate, their talent at making learning opportunities, sometimes seemingly out of nothing, and their intense desire to make school interesting, safe, and relevant for students.  These people have inspired me in my career because of their curiosity and commitment to their own continued growth and learning, their beliefs in hands-on and experiential learning, and their acknowledgement that most times, we have to go where students lead us.

My ideal school would have many other aspects to it.  There would be lots of messy learning.  Process would be more important than products, and our assessments would reflect that.  Coming from the angle of someone who teaches in both kindergarten and middle years, exploration and inquiry would be key at all ages.  Technology would be employed to connect to others, and share our work.  But the key would always be the passionate people filling the building.

My ideal school would be all about the people in it.  Everything else would be gravy.

I originally started this post during my the writing warm-up time in my grade 7/8 class, on March 2.  I gave them the same prompt as I started with, to choose to do if they wanted (“What would your ideal school look like?”).  The ideas were fabulous!  They were so thoughtful, and it was surprising how many of their ideas aligned with mine.   I might have to share some of them here sometime.

 

Staying on My Toes

I tried to exercise my brain and body last night as I listened in on the first session of The Innovator’s Mindset MOOC (#IMMOOC) while working out on the treadmill.   My main takeaway was that I have to stay on my toes.  As soon as I start to feel as though I might finally “get” this teaching gig (after 14 years), someone like John Spencer comes and blows me out of the water.  The one thing I should try is design thinking?  Ugh, I don’t think I know anything about it!  Where do I start?  But that’s the nature of curiosity and innovation – someone or something planting the seed, and me taking off with it.  Maybe not in the direction they anticipated, but in the direction I need to go to meet the needs of my students and myself.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about is transformational change.  That’s the buzzword in my province for what our government wants to do in the health, education, and social service sectors.  Most people cynically think it just means taking money and resources out of the system to help eliminate our ballooning deficit.  I want to keep George Couros’ quote in mind as we go through this difficult process – “Change is the opportunity to do something amazing!”  As we head into uncertain times, when we feel that we are having the rug pulled out from under us and are potentially losing co-workers to the process, that it’s going to be increasingly important to look for opportunities in the change.  We owe the positive attitude to ourselves and our students.

* Originally written on February 28, but not published until March 12.