Something Is Missing!

I haven't blogged since Saturday night.  There's nothing particularly amazing or strange about that in my ordinary world.  Until now.  Now is different.  I blogged every single day for the 28 days of February as part of #28daysofwriting.  28 minutes every day.  It feels weird not to have written so far this week.  Like there's something missing.  It's interesting how quickly something becomes a habit.  Blogging became a habit during those 28 days and now at Day 3 post-February, I miss it.  I was tempted to sign up for the next installment of #28days but decided that if it truly was a writing habit then I shouldn't need the hashtag pushing me along.

The beauty of being a part of a writing initiative like that was that I was accountable.  I signed up.  Put my name down.  That means something.  Knowing that I had to write motivated me.  I didn't want to 'fail'.  The perfectionist in me needed to have 28 posts in the 28 days.  But now what?  Something is missing.  

My need to write is bone-deep.  It always has been, and writing this blog was its impetus for coming back to the surface.   The need to let words spill from my fingertips.  So now I write out of the love for it.  The hashtag is still there.  I am tempted to write for both the love and for the hashtag but I will see how this new habit goes.  I'll let it settle and see what comes of it.

Challenge, Motivation, Support - 28 Days Of It

28 days ago I had no real idea of what I was getting myself in for.  I signed up for #28daysofwriting in the hopes that I would get my blog up and running, get back into the habit of writing regularly and make some new connections with other educators.  My one goal was to make it.  To complete the 28 days rain, hail or shine.  I am proud to say I made it.

What I didn't expect was how much I would come to love my 28 minutes of writing each day.  The daily time allowance when I was in quiet reflection about my professional practice became so much more than just 28 minutes.  I didn't expect to be thinking about it or talking about it as much as I have.

In 28 days a lot of things have happened.

I have a sore hand/wrist from typing which my massage therapist picked up on today as she felt the tight muscles.  It's a little like the technology version of the writer's dent I get on my ring finger when I write by hand a lot.  She growled me.  I didn't care.

My typing speed has gone up markedly.  Each night as I sit furiously typing my hands fly across the keyboard of their own accord, like they used to when I was back in University.  I love that.

I have read the blogs of wonderful educators from around the world.  Inspiring posts and fantastic gleanings from these passionate people.  We are in good stead with them in our classrooms, heading our schools or working to train our educators.

In 28 days I have managed to come up with 28 different topics to write on.  Some of them average, some of them make me proud.  My posts have been read by family, friends, colleagues and my wonderful Twitter crew from #28daysofwriting.  Having a blog to write on is great, having an audience to write for is amazing.

I have made some great connections with other educators in the past 28 days, most of whom I hadn't connected with prior to the beginning of the challenge.  I've learnt a lot from them.  More than I can say.  Thank you all for your wonderfully crafted posts and equally amazing encouragement you have given me.  I am so very grateful.

In 28 days I have eaten far too much chocolate.  At the time felt like a reward for working so hard.  Now I just feel greedy.  Perhaps next should be #28dayssugarfree.  That might be a good idea (most likely one to be ignored however).

28 days ago I didn't understand how difficult it would be some days to find 28 minutes of peace and quiet in which to write.  It doesn't sound like very long, but some days it was hard to fit it in.  I've only ever written in the evening.  Sometimes posting, like last night, just before midnight.  Scraping in by the skin of my teeth.  Sometimes I'd remember that @tombarrett lives in Australia so is likely at least two hours behind New Zealand time and wouldn't perhaps realise that I might be late.  Never needed the excuse luckily!

27 of the nights I have managed to be uninterrupted for my 28 minutes because I type once Little Miss Two and Miss Four are tucked up fast asleep.  Tonight I didn't manage to be so lucky.  Tonight I type my last post for #28daysofwriting sitting in a dark room on Miss Two's bed, my presence soothing her off to sleep.  I am cross-legged and hunched over my Chromebook.  My massage therapist would be shaking her head.

And with that I will sign off.  I have loved every second of my #28daysofwriting.  The 28 precious minutes are something so much bigger than what they seem.  My love for writing has been reignited.  I love my blog.  I want to keep it up.  I will keep it up.

Thank you so much Tom and everyone in the #28daysofwriting group.  You have inspired and motivated me.  Challenged my beliefs about best practice.  Encouraged and supported me.  You have given me some of the best professional learning all from the comfort of your own homes far, far away.  We are a small and powerful group of dedicated and passionate educators.  Let's keep doing what we do, and sharing it with the world.    

A Great Teacher (Or Four)

When I cast my mind back to my favourite teachers, at Primary, Intermediate or High School, I think of four teachers in particular that stand out.  Funnily enough for a lot of the same reasons.  They weren't necessarily the 'nicest' teachers, the kind ones (although they were all kind in their own ways).  They stood out because they challenged me.  Believed in me.  And I liked that.

In Primary School it was Mr H that stands out above the rest.  Smiley eyes and a thick black moustache are what I remember about his face.  A kind face.  A warm heart but watch out if you crossed him.  I remember learning to really love reading in his class.  Sitting in rows facing the blackboard in the silent classroom.  The only sound to be heard, the turning of crisp pages.  I remember him reading to us, chapter books that held us enthralled for hours, I never wanted him to stop.  He was tough.  High standards.  But I knew he believed in me.

Mr N is next in the succession line of schooling at Intermediate.  A good friend to this very day, Mr N was all about relationships.  He was warm, funny and trusting.  But again he was someone you didn't want to get on the bad side of.  He was patient and fair, but when you lost his trust you knew it, and it was a hard road back.  From Mr N I learned to be myself.  He pushed me to not be like my friends, wasn't afraid to say so out loud and challenged me to believe in myself as a learner.  He was tough.  High standards.  But I knew he believed in me.

At High School Mr W-J was the first teacher to scare me, challenge me and believe in me.  He was a veteran of the high school, teaching my father and many before him.  Photos of him show that he never aged a day in the decades he taught at the school.  From Mr W-J I learned to love science, to become passionate about my world.  He could be terrifying, glaring at you from behind his overhead projector screen where day in and day out he would scrawl notes for us to copy diligently into our books.  I loved being in his class.  I was the first ever recipient of the trophy in his namesake and am proud to this day to have been awarded it from him.  He was tough, extremely tough.  High standards.  But I knew he believed in me.

Then there is Mr S.  Mr S taught Economics, a subject I had neither much like nor much dislike for.  I was okay at it.  It was Mr S that made the class one of my favourites to go to.  He was hilarious.  Tough as nails but funny as anything.  He had a bellow that could scare the living daylights out of you, but if you held his trust you were fine.  He was passionate about what he taught.  From him I learned the value of hard work, that you needed to give your all to be satisfied.  He was tough.  High standards.  But I knew he believed in me.

Finally, as a newly fledged teacher, my last favourite Mrs R.  She was assigned to be my tutor teacher and she was pretty polarising.  People either loved her or found her very hard to like.  I was in the former camp, luckily.  She marched to the beat of her own drum.  Held you accountable for everything that you should be held accountable for, no excuses even if you were a Beginning Teacher.  From her I learnt to really love and value each of my students.  To place them in the highest regard and nurture them to their full potential.  She passed away nearly a decade ago and the world lost a wonderful teacher and beautiful person in her passing.  She was tough.  High standards.  But I knew she believed in me.

I have taken pieces of all my favourites from over the years as I have moulded myself into the teacher I always wanted to be.  I would like to think I have managed to capture some of their qualities in my own teaching practice and manner.  I know the value of a student knowing that their teacher believes in them.  In my book it is the most powerful gift a teacher can give a child.  I must write them each a letter someday soon thanking them for the gifts and lessons they bestowed upon me.  I am eternally grateful.

Turtles, Sharks and Owls

Are you are a Turtle, a Shark, a Teddy Bear, a Fox or an Owl when it comes to dealing with conflict?  I was at a course the other day where these conflict types were discussed and I found it a really interesting concept (you can read another post about the other things I learnt here).  I learnt a lot about conflict, the types of ways people deal with it and how to help students to learn to work through it in a positive way.  All good stuff.

The animals associated with how people instinctively deal with conflict:

Turtle - quiet, retreats from conflict by withdrawing and refusing to talk about the issue.  The turtle avoids conflict at all costs.  They tend to stay away from conflict and avoid the people they have conflicts with.

Shark - aggressive, 'my way or the highway'.  Sharks do not shy away from conflict.  Instead they try to force their opinion or way onto the person they are in conflict with.  They are determined to 'win' and like to compete.

Teddy Bear - does what is expected of them to avoid conflict.  They accommodate and make sacrifices to keep harmony.  A Teddy Bear tries to smooth things over and will put others before themselves in an attempt to preserve their relationships.

Fox - makes compromises, negotiates.  They give a little to get a little.  They are willing to sacrifice and maintain balance for the greater good.  Foxes do not avoid conflict but also don't seek to fully resolve the issue to the satisfaction of both parties.

Owl - comes to solutions that suit both parties, reasons, remains calm.  Owls are collaborative and place great value on goals and relationships.  They like to problem solve and work through a conflict fully to make sure that all parties are satisfied with the outcome.

The point of discussing the conflict types at the course wasn't to decide on which way of dealing with conflict was 'better' but more to allow people to realise the positives and negatives of the way that they operate in a situation where conflict in involved.  Depending on the situation, a person who has developed good conflict management skills may choose to behave in any of the conflict styles to get the outcome that is desired.

As a side note for those of you who read my Maker Time post, Miss Four was looking at her 'cake' earlier and as she was rummaging around in it found a M n M chocolate.  I cannot hazard a guess as to how long it was in there for or what it was touching (a dead cicada or lump of gravel perhaps).  It was promptly eaten.  Awesome.

Reference must be made to the Cool Schools Mediation programme where I heard this information, it is however, written in my own words and I do not claim any ownership over the concept.

Lines, Tears and a Phonecall From My Mother

Oh dear.  This post is going to be all over the show, I just know it.  I don't like it, order and organisation are kinda my 'thing'.

I have crossed the line from tiredness into a state so far past tired that I cannot even think of a word for it. There is, however, no way I was going to miss writing tonight.  Day 25 of #28daysofwriting cannot be missed no matter how badly I want to shut my eyes or even though I feel my brain is working as though packed in cotton wool (bad choice of words - 'working' might be overstating my brain's capacity at the moment).  Forgive me.

We had Goal Setting meetings tonight with our parents and students.  They were amazing.  This year we did things differently, we had our meetings in the Learning Centre together - all our teachers meeting with parents in the same place.  I loved it.  There was a quiet buzz and murmur of conversation around the room and everywhere you looked heads were bent in earnest over tables, in deep discussion about goals for our students.  It was a great night.  Just as well - we have another night of them tomorrow.  This is the point where the tears come in, my last meeting of the night.  Everyone else had finished and my colleague and I were at the table with our last family (coincidentally the only time we'd been able to buddy up and sit in on one of our meetings together).  Master 9 sat in between his parents, his teachers filling in the other side of the circle.  And I was looking at him, this brave little boy sitting at a table with four adults around him, talking about him and his learning difficulties.  Not an easy place to be.  But his face was alight.  And I commented on it, the fact that he realised that around him sat four adults who believed in how smart he really was, four adults who were striving to find ways to help him to show it to the world.  It was the best moment of the night.  I couldn't help but feel tears prick the corners of my eyes as I said the words.  Luckily it was the last meeting of the night.

The phonecall was just that, a phonecall from my mother.  She rang during one of my Goal Setting meetings and I didn't answer (obviously).  She then rang again just now during my 28 minutes of writing, minute 12 to be exact.  Checking up on me.  She knew it was a big day.  I'll make do with 26 minutes of writing today, no complaints here.

So there you have it.  Day 25.  I'm feeling very proud that I blogged tonight despite the randomness of the material I'm posting.  Lines crossed.  Tears.  A phonecall.  That's all I have.  Good night.

Time, More Please

Time, that precious commodity we all crave more of.  I had another whole post that I planned to write tonight but just now as I looked down at the growing to-do-list for school on my screen I was struck by the fact that no matter how many things I tick off in any given day more keep piling up.  So far my list has 23 things on it.  And that's not including teaching full-time and any planning (or my 28 minutes of writing each night or the fact that I have goal setting meetings at school until 8pm for the following two nights!).  It's Tuesday night already and I had planned to clear my list by Friday.  Somehow I don't think this is going to be possible.  Sigh.

Time is defined as the 'point or period at which things occur'.  But time is very relative.  There is actual time and real time.  There are always 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day.  You get the picture.  That's actual time and it doesn't ever change or vary.  Real time is different.   Depending on what you are doing time can either whiz by ridiculously fast or drag by so incredibly slowly.  An hour sitting in the dentist's chair passes like an age, while sitting in an armchair for an hour having coffee with a friend speeds by.

Part of the reason I am struggling is because I'm a perfectionist who likes to keep things ticking along, jobs completed and the list checked off neatly.  Being a perfectionist usually means that the jobs are done well, to a high standard but it also means that I like to do them myself and that takes time.  My time.  So I am going to have to come up with some sort of plan of attack.  I have been thinking of a few ways to make sure that the most important things get done this week.  And so that I keep my sanity.

So here's what I am going to do:

• Prioritise the non-negotiables for each day and for the week - narrow the 23 things down to a manageable number.  Surely those 23 things aren't all absolutely necessary to get completed this week!
• Schedule time to not be disturbed - and use this time to really work to get things done.  This is always a hard thing to do but it is going to be imperative to my list-crossing-off this week.
• Avoid distractions such as social media, TV while working - I will use my time wisely.
• Make sure I take time to relax and unwind too, I know I will be far more efficient and happy if I build this into my day.
• Delegate things that someone else could easily do - this one is important and I have lots of amazing people who would gladly help if they know I need it.  Most of them would be horrified if they read this and realised that I hadn't asked for help.

So there's my sanity-saving, Friday-finishing solution.  Now I've just got to stick to it.  Not turn it into a 'do what I say not what I do' type scenario.  

And with that I have finished my 28 minutes of writing for #28daysofwriting.  In actual time it was 28 minutes on the clock, in real time it was far, far less!

How do you make sure you don't get snowed under with work-related things?  Any advice or helpful hints gratefully accepted!

Like Christmas

You can't see it in the photo but their excitement was plain to see in real life.  Written all over their flushed little faces as boxes were carefully pulled open.  The precious cargo they contained treated as such.  This was a moment we'd been waiting for.  More devices.  The students knew the value in it and it showed today.

Last year my colleague and I embarked on a new journey for our school...  Google Apps for Education (GAFE) and Hapara.  Amazing tools.  We had 12 iPads, six desktops (not in the classroom) and 50 students.  We needed to be creative.  For a start the purpose for us in using GAFE was as a literacy tool, a place to record and share our learning with our peers.  To collaborate and communicate over our learning each day.  We quickly found out the iPads, though incredibly wonderful, were not the best tool for our purpose.  We needed keyboards, anyone using technology to enhance literacy does I believe.  A little research later and my new best friend was found... the Chromebook.  We begged our Principal to consider buying us some.  He pondered on this for some time, and lots of cajoling later agreed to let us trial one each to see if they really were as good as we believed them to be.  Soooo excited!  They arrived and I fell in love.  Head over heels with this little masterpiece of technology.  It did exactly what we needed it to do - it ran Chrome.  Beautifully.

The year progressed at speed.  The budget didn't allow for more device purchases so we made do with what we had (never forgetting how much we actually had - more than a lot we knew).  But two Chromebooks between 50 students was tough.  We used the desktops when we could get to the Learning Centre, the iPads where possible (for docs and photos mainly) but mostly it was a torrent of children begging to use our 'Chromies'.  So we adapted our programmes to suit the skills we wanted them to develop, changed the way we did things to maximise learning time and to ensure that even if they didn't have a device in their hand they were still practising what they would be if they did have one.  In their writing books we utilised a comment margin down the left hand side of the page - commenting on their peers and their own work was something we considered a non-negotiable.  They practised it in their books and they practised it online in GAFE.  We developed writing tasks that were stored online on their Google Drive but could be handwritten and a photo uploaded using an iPad, or typed directly onto the document.  

The students thrived.  They flourished with the added motivation of having their work online, able to be shared with their peers, parents and teachers.  They loved the comments, buzzed over finding another teacher or the Principal had read their work online and left a comment.  Beautiful, supportive comments were left for each other, handy hints given and constructive criticism greatfully received.  It was fantastic.  We were so proud.  But we were always left wondering what would happen if we had access to more devices.  How much we could really push them in their learning, what other amazing achievements they could aspire to.  

Then this year rolled around.  10 new Chromebooks arrived by courier.  10 brown boxes were delivered down to our classroom after lunch by the Principal and her helpers.  It was like Christmas.  We had waited a year for this.  More devices!

We spread the boxes between the students and they patiently waited as we slit the ends of the boxes.  The boxes were opened in unison.  So carefully.  Everyone in that room knew the value of what was inside and it wasn't just monetary.  Oh their faces.  How they lit up when the Chromebooks were revealed from the packaging.  I raced around taking photos, smiling as the excitement bubbled around the room.  

Having worked with 1:25 ratios last year and to now have almost 1:4 - it's incredible.  I am so excited at the possibilities.  They students are abuzz with knowing that they will have far greater access to their much-loved device.  Using them tomorrow is going to be so much fun!

So instead of two best friends I now have 12.  I have to share them with 50 other small people but that's ok.  We shared with far less last year.  The possibilities are endless now.

The One About Ants

Ants are fascinating creatures.  They are much like us, incredibly social creatures living in groups of such order and organisation.  Intelligent and intuitive.  Hardworking.  Always busy.  You might not be able to pick them out in the photo above that I took earlier today but they are there.  I was watching a game of rugby and looked down at the ground.  Everywhere I looked there were ants.  And thus tonight's post was born (amazing where you can find inspiration!).

As I watched the little creatures scuttling furiously from place to place I thought of how an entire world was right down by my feet and I could hardly see it.  I looked closer and saw them changing direction, ducking into holes and under grass, carrying things.  They were busy, very busy indeed.  But unless I looked down, directly down, really hard I would never have see them.

I started thinking about how our schools and workplaces can be like this.  Everyone working furiously, often undetected or noticed unless someone looks hard enough to see what's actually there.  People who have jobs to do, hundreds of small (or large) tasks to complete, places to go and things to achieve.  

My school is very much like the ants.  We are a small group of dedicated educators who work so very hard.  We constantly push ourselves and each other to be better practitioners, to become more knowledgeable and skilled.  We all have jobs to do, often completing these jobs without the awareness of others.  Quietly going about our hundreds of tasks which make the school run seamlessly, smoothly.  

Unless you are a teacher you often don't realise the work that goes into moulding the next generation into successful learners.  Parents often joke about how it must be the greatest job in the world (and it is, don't get me wrong) because of all the weekends and holidays we have off.  Yeah right I hear you all laugh.  Teachers are the hardest working group of anyone I know.  People outside of the education field can be forgiven for making such judgements.  Just as we don't realise the importance of each of the ants in their scurrying madness at our feet.  Each job or task making the colony run like clockwork.  

So to all the teachers, Principals, educators out there...  this post has been about the ants... and about us.  Keep up the amazing work.  Even if no one sees it.  It is all worth it, our kids are worth it.

Here are a couple of really cool facts I found about ants tonight (courtesy of http://antark.net/)...

• Ants worst enemies are not humans, but other ants (much like us humans being our own worst enemies!).
• Ants have two stomachs - one for food for themselves, one for food for others (kind of gross but sweet at the same time).
• Dozens of colonies of the world's smallest ant could live in the brain case of the world's largest ant (not sure how I feel about this - sounds like a horror movie theme if you ask me).
• The total weight of all the ants in the world is the same as, if not larger than the weight of all the humans in the world (fearing a takeover anyone??).

Be Inspired, I Am

My brain is feeling a little tired tonight.  More than a little inspired though.  I attended my very first educamp today.  #educamprotovegas.  A room of such amazing talent.  I was so inspired.

A network of professional learning partners - in the form of Twitter, or face-to-face - is so incredibly powerful.  Such power to change, to motivate, to support, to learn.  There is truly nothing else that comes close.

I put my hand up at the end of last year to run our region's Year 4-8 Teachers PLN.  It's a little daunting, but I'm also dreadfully excited.  I ran this same group a couple of years ago and hadn't yet experienced the power and beauty of a great PLN, but this time will be different.  Connecting with my neighbouring colleagues is something I've always been passionate about.  We share a common catchment of students, experience a lot of the same hardships, challenges, celebrations and successes.  Who better to meet with on a regular basis and hash things out?  What untapped talent is lurking just below the surface in our group?  I am dying to find out.

Attending #educamprotovegas today gave me a lot of ideas of how to establish, support and grow this PLN baby, to nurture it into a strong connected group of like-minded educators with a passion for making a difference and collaborating for the goal of student success.  Top of my to-do list is providing a warm and inviting environment for us to meet in - my classroom (best I get tidying!!), establishing a sense of mutual trust and respect, giving opportunities for everyone to share (or to just listen if that is what they need), good food (a must-have in my book!) and hot coffee.  It will be our first meeting of the year and I want everyone to leave the room as I left educamp today... wanting more.

More connectedness, more learning, more collaboration.  More.

Did I mention that I was excited?  Inspired?  I am.

As a side note... to all those I met today face-to-face at #educamprotovegas - you inspire me daily on Twitter and you have now inspired me in real life.  I was in awe of the talent and sheer passion that exuded from the room.  Thank you.

Sit Still And Listen

 I often think about being a student.  Not a student of today's generation in today's primary school classrooms but about being an adult student in a University.  Learning and growing.  Upskilling and banking more knowledge.  My vision of being a student is somewhat clouded by time, by the distance since I actually sat day after day in a learning environment.  It seems like a pleasant way to spend my days, a somewhat comical dream of an educational utopia.  And then today happened.  Days like this one come along ever so often to remind me that my vision may most likely not be my reality should I endeavour to pursue this dream.

Today I sat as a student in a course for just over 6.5 hours.  Don't get me wrong, it was a very worthwhile and interesting course.  I learnt a lot.  Came away with fresh ideas and a plan of attack for moving forward with the new knowledge and skills I gained.  But I sat.  Pretty still, for nearly 6.5 hours.  The course had some interactive times, and lots of opportunity for discussion and sharing.  But mostly I sat and listened.  At first the novelty of not being the one with the plan of how the day was to proceed was kind of nice.  I was the passenger in the car on a journey that I knew the sort-of-whereabouts of the destination but not the stops and sights along the way.  It was nice... for a while.

I felt myself becoming more distracted as the day went on.  The content was still interesting.  The presenter was great, very enthusiastic and exuberant.  The air conditioning was on... sometimes.  When it wasn't I fidgeted, looked around for some fresh source of air.  People started yawning.  I yawned too and the presenter saw me.  I felt bad.  I know how it feels when you think that someone might be getting tired and bored of what you are saying.  Students are less obvious in their disguise of this emotional state.  I drank water, took a toilet break.  Tried not to check how much time was left until a break.  Two 20 minute breaks all day.  It wasn't enough.

Like I said, it wasn't that the course wasn't a good course.  It was.  It wasn't that the presenter was boring or dull.  She wasn't.  It was the sitting.  The time spent passively listening.  It made me tired and my brain slowly became more and more sluggish.

The lady next to me confided that she was feeling tired, bored, fidgety.  I leaned close and said oh our poor students.  How often do we expect them to sit still and listen?  To participate when we ask them to?  To not fidget or become distracted?  To deal with the heat or coolness of the classroom without having control of the temperature?  I made a mistake and didn't hear an instruction to use a certain pair of colours for a task about grouping.  I had to re-do the offending slips in the correct colour.  It didn't seem like a big deal.  But I sucked it up.  How often do our students feel like this?  That what they have been asked to re-do isn't a big deal?  That the task was done... what's the problem?

Lessons like this a very much needed for teachers.  I need them.  They make me a better teacher.  More tuned in to how my students are feeling.  To the struggles they go through to sit through lessons, where I know the importance of the process or task... but they might not.

Timely indeed.

As we try to cram more and more into our school days, covering our curriculum requirements we sometimes run into morning tea... lunchtime...  Not a big deal right?  Wrong I found myself feeling today.  My lunchtime was later than I'd been led to believe.  I was hungry and in need of a break.  Those few minutes of time that 'didn't matter' because we were still learning... mattered.  To me.  How much do they matter to our students?  I wonder if they look at the clock, sigh inwardly (or outwardly!).

Today's lessons were so important.  I got the course information and the drive to bring a new programme to fruition in our school.  But it was so much more than this that I walked away with.  I will be approaching the week differently on Monday.  Planning for more interaction.  More student input.  Having break time, even short impromptu ones, more regularly.  Access to water.  Fresh air.  Lots of discussion time.  Choice over activities and topics as much as possible.  Less covered, but what is covered, covered better.  Food.  Stretching.

I know the students are going to appreciate it.  I think I will too.

Inquiry Learning - A Beautiful Thing

Inquiry Learning.  A few years ago I was sitting in a job interview for a job I really really wanted and I was asked what my understanding of Inquiry Learning was.  My first thought was that I had blown it.  All my ideas about the topic flew straight out of my head and I drew an absolute blank.  How could I wing the answer to this question and actually come out with a job at the end of it?  However wing it I did and the job is still mine.  What's more, when I was hired I was given the responsibility for developing the school's Inquiry Learning curriculum and to embed it in our teaching practice across the school.

Enter an intense phase of research.  Winging it just wasn't going to cut it anymore.  Professional Development in the form of road trips to Auckland to attend a Bek Galloway course, a Lane Clark conference, trips to high performing schools - Island Bay School in Wellington and Stonefields School in Auckland.  Professional Learning in the form of personalised research and readings, talking to other educators, undertaking a Teaching As Inquiry/Action Research into Inquiry Learning and key competencies.  My journey has been a full one and it is ongoing even now.  A real life inquiry into Inquiry Learning you could say.

Now fast forward a few years... I am proud to say that winging it has became actual knowledge, intense application of skills and a complete reworking of how we do things at our school.  We have a school wide process that we follow in all classrooms, posters we use as signposts along our Inquiry Road to Success.  We have held a Trolley Derby and a Space Sharing day - both amazing celebrations of the learning that has taken place through Inquiry Learning.  It's my school-baby.  And I love it.

Inquiry Learning is a beautiful thing when it is allowed to happen.  People often say they 'do' Inquiry.  I don't believe that it is something that is 'done'.  It is a way of constructing learning that takes place through exploration, wondering, the gathering and refining of ideas, of generating solutions and making informed decisions, of taking action, sharing and celebrating.  You don't 'do' Inquiry.  It is woven into the fabric of your classroom or school, nurtured by thinking and questioning, given the freedom to grow and blossom into a creature you may never have dreamt of in the beginning.  Students own it, they love it and crave it in their learning.

Our Inquiry Road to Success - a living document of our learning - it grows as we do.

Constructing our trolleys in preparation for Trolley Derby Day - 15 weeks of awesomeness.

A big thank you to all those who have helped me move from 'winging it to embracing it' on my journey in Inquiry Learning - Stonefields School, Island Bay School, Bek Galloway, and Lane Clark.

28 Great Things

I'm tired tonight.  My feet are sunburnt.  I was surrounded by water all day and didn't drink enough.  Reminds me of that quote... water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink...  It was our annual School Swimming Sports Day and I am shattered.

So here goes my post for #28daysofwriting...  The 28 Great Things of my school day.

1. I forgot to have breakfast.  On its own not a great thing but one of my colleagues knew this and after the bell rang she walked into my room and quietly placed a bowl of cereal and milk in front of me. Almost cried at the kindness.  
2. Hugged my colleague tight.  We were both tired and needed it.  
3. Had another class join us for the roll, they walked in so quietly that I didn't notice.  Did the roll without thinking as I taught with their teacher last year and we shared the same password for our LMS.  Love it when things are easy and seamless.
4. Everyone chipped in to help get things ready for the day - kids, staff, parents.  
5. Gas bottle for the BBQ was full... phew!
6. My principal brought us all coffee... large-sized and awesome.
7. A parent donated a basket of beautiful home-grown fruit for me to raffle for our enviro group.
8. Made 36 dollars.  Sounds like not much but it's a lot when you've only got $170 in the enviro budget for the year.
9. Seeing the child from my post on excellence not only putting his head under the water but attempting freestyle, backstroke and breaststroke!
10. Drinking ice-cold coke.
11. Getting to sit in the shade and record the results...  I definitely had the best job!
12. First year of not being on 'crowd control'.  Enough said.
13. Chatting to a family who moved here from England last year about how amazing it was to see their children swimming... they'd never had this opportunity until they'd moved here.
14. Watching families cheering for their children.
15. Watching families cheering for children who are not their children.
16. Getting sprayed with water by accident by a child who was hosing off the lane dividers.  Pure bliss.
17. Standing on the wet concrete in my bare feet.
18. Swimming in the staff team for the relays... and winning!  Competitive much?
19. Not being on duty at lunchtime.  
20. Doing road crossing duty with my Principal as we discussed a couple of things that came up after school.
21. My team-teaching partner covering the bus duty that I had offered to cover for the Principal.
22. An impromptu Senior Leadership meeting that was very productive.
23. Air conditioning in said meeting room.
24. A visit from a past student who remembered that I'd promised him a chocolate bar if he was taller than me the next time we saw each other.
25. Me still being taller.
26. His smile when I promised him that the offer extends out to Easter.
27. An email from the local sports coordinator telling us that she loved being at our Swimming Sports Day.
28. Leaving work at 5pm with a smile on my face because even though it was a long, hot and tiring day... it was a great one, filled with amazing people who pulled together and worked as a team all day long.

Hope your day was great too!

Pipeline Leadership

Teachers are like most professionals in other vocations.  They want to grow throughout the course of their career in education.  This might be in formal leadership positions or in skill and knowledge - both admirable aspirations.  Teachers often want to stay at their current school but are not given the opportunities to grow as leaders or broaden their skill set in a way that fulfils their desire to move ahead with their career .  How many teachers do you know of that have moved onto other positions within new schools because their career aspirations or opportunities to advance are not addressed?

Pipeline Leadership is a model for growing the people you have within your organisation into the leaders you will need in the future.  We have such untapped talent in many of our schools.  Do we really know what our teachers aspire to?  Where they see their future in education?  Initiatives such as ACET here in New Zealand are trying to provide some recognition and incentive for teachers who are excelling in their careers to remain in the classroom, at the coalface in front of our greatest asset - our children.

Pipeline Leadership minimises the need to look outside of ourselves for new leaders, instead growing the skills and knowledge base within the staff already in the school, providing a firm platform for future growth and leadership.  Effective Principals recognise the need for advancing student achievement and hand-in-hand seek to cultivate the leadership talents of their teachers.  Building leadership teams, ensuring a meaningful delegation of responsibility and developing future school leaders have to be the most effective ways of managing a school effectively (http://www.newleaders.org).  

The Pipeline Leadership model seeks to develop leadership skills at every level in an organisation which means that the knowledge and mindset required to lead at the next level is successfully developed in the people moving forward into new leadership roles.

How might this work in a school setting?  What sorts of conversations and Professional Learning opportunities would we be seeing if we were seeking to develop the leadership talents from within?  What feedback and feedforward would be given freely out?  How would we be supporting and mentoring each other?

I will leave you with a quote from Tom Peters:

Ladders Not Ceilings

I was lucky enough to watch the leadership team from Summerland Primary School in action at ULearn14. They talked about some very powerful stuff. One thing that really struck a chord with me was that you need to give teachers a ladder, not a ceiling.

In an environment where we encourage students to reach for the stars, that anything and everything is possible - how often do we allow our teachers the same open space to really fly as professionals?

A previous Principal of mine used to say that we were not to get too far ahead of everyone else on the teaching staff (mainly in the digital arena) or else we'd have the snap back effect. He likened it to a bungee cord that we were running away with, there was only so much stretch before the cord was too tight and either snapped or we would be jerked back where the others were. I didn't like this.

So I wasn't allowed to stretch myself for fear of getting too far ahead? I wasn't allowed to push myself to new heights because others weren't ready? This didn't sit well with me. Tall Poppy Syndrome for adults.

University of Canterbury researcher Louise Tapper thinks we have an unhealthy tall poppy chopping culture here in New Zealand. She says "Expectations in New Zealand are that we want people to be the same, rather than excel". We all know that we need to stop having those expectations with our children, but what about with our teachers?

By placing rules and restrictions around people you also create a ceiling for people who could have been better. People who could have pushed through and created amazing things if they were allowed to, encouraged to even. We need to chip away at the practices that create the bungee cord in the first place and allow for ladders for people to climb up past the ceiling. To grow into what they could be. To soar and become the very best they can be.  

What else could you aspire to if you were given the chance? The scope to believe that anything and everything was possible? We give the stars and sky to our students to reach for, let's start giving it to our teachers.

I'll finish with a quote from Ben Young (New Zealand Herald - November 11, 2009). He says "Success is a hard road to follow, it alone is going to naturally select winners and losers. Why should we make it even harder? Or worse knock out natural leaders at a young age? Shouldn't our aim be to maximise the amount of people rising their head above the rest? And in turn create a pool of tall poppies? In a global knowledge economy this is a big win".

Coffee Time

I walked up town the other day to get lunch.  It's a small town.  There are a ridiculous number of cafes for the number of people that live here but it's on the main road, tourists are everywhere.  And the coffee is to die for.  I am rather spoilt, I know that.

Our school receptionist walked in after me and sat down at table outside.  She seemed preoccupied.  Didn't appear to notice me there.  I waited for my order to be ready and touched her shoulder as I walked past her.  Said she could have sat with me if she wanted company.  She looked up and sheepishly said 'I just needed a break'.  She seemed embarrassed, like she was confessing to something she shouldn't be doing.  She said she had been planning to take her order back to school but then changed her mind.  She needed a break.  I get that completely.

A school is pure madness a lot of the time.  Rooms filled to the brim with little voices chattering away incessantly, meeting after meeting, talking to colleagues, communicating with parents.  Even the photocopier is noisy.  The phone never stops ringing.  There is often little time to gather one's thoughts.  To think in a quiet space.  To breathe, just breathe.  To have a break.

I've found working in a little town amazing.  It's got the rural feel with some urban conveniences.  Coffee is one.  Possibly my most favourite one (who am I kidding, of course it is).  Stepping out of school for a few minutes and walking up the street to get a cup of coffee or grabbing lunch is pure bliss.  I don't even feel guilty for it.  I need it.  We all need it - a break.  Take it in any form you can, a walk around the far end of the field.  Sit in the quiet library or between the dusty shelves of the resource room.  Play an instrument.  Or lock your classroom doors, turn the air con on and just breathe for a few moments.  I've done all of the above.

In this busy, busy world we all need to take a break sometimes.  The reward is feeling more centred, relaxed, like you recharge just enough to get through the next hour (or six - sometimes the only time to snatch that break is first thing in the morning!).  It's important.  Do it.

As a side note for those readers who understand why my blog is named Half Cold Coffee - no I do not usually finish the cup before it gets cold, yes it sits there half finished for a while, and I'll let you in on a little secret... add a half shot of caramel and then once it's cold it tastes like a caramel/coffee milkshake.  You're welcome :-)

Maker Time Love

Maker Time.  Maker Space.  A year ago I hadn't even heard of it.  A colleague mentioned it one day and I distinctly remember having absolutely no idea of what he was talking about.  I actually thought he may have been making it up.  Wow.  The difference a year makes.  Maker Time is awesome!  I actually think I prefer Genius Hour or Squidwrench (haha it's an actual name!), but the name does not matter.

For years now our Junior School classes have been doing Maker Time under the disguise of 'Developmental'.  A designated hour on a Friday where the students are let loose out on the courts or in the sandpit and are immersed in free play and creative pursuits.  The kids love it.  There are sword fights with pieces of wood, towers built of interlocking pieces, hammers and nails (with very few sore thumbs I might add - interesting the skill of children when you actually let them go with it).  There are mazes built with long plastic rods and a lot of splashing and excitement around the water table.  It's beautiful to watch.  Then something used to happen at our school.  The child moves into Year Four.  Senior School.  Suddenly 'Developmental' is no longer allowed, not in that form anyway.  Far too old apparently for creative play and time to discover.  Hmmmmmm.

Enter our discovery with Maker Time.  We started small, it's still small actually.  Lego.  Glue guns and cardboard.  Paint.  Basic coding using Scratch Junior.  Brain Box.  Enviro.  The students love it.  Suddenly there is a time set aside for them to be a kid.  With stuff to play with even!  In my latest Syndicate newsletter I have asked for stuff to take apart - old telephones, computers; and old lego or anything else they might have lying around - wool, construction materials.  It doesn't have to cost the Earth.  The students are going to be in Heaven.

I saw a really cute tweet the other day - a photo of Mr Potato Head.  It said something like 'who says Maker Time has to be complicated?'.  And it got me thinking about Miss Four, the queen of Maker Space at my house.  Creating and manipulating things comes so naturally at that age.  She will spend hours and hours patiently cutting up magazines or old cards into tiny little pieces for her 'cake'.  This cake is amazing.  You should see it (actually you will, I'll upload a pic of a cake in progress at the end of this post)!  Nestled amongst the thousands of shards of coloured confetti are flowers, grass, rocks, sand, the odd dead beetle, perhaps some spider web carefully gathered.  The cake is lovingly stirred, and added to over days.  Usually until Miss Two discovers the colourful creation and dumps it out onto the grass (enter hysteria... both of them).  Now if that isn't Maker Time I don't know what is.  

That's the beautiful thing about Maker Time.  Children have such fantastic imaginations that they see beauty and creation in everything around them.  You don't need to fork out hundreds of dollars for the latest in tech equipment or more highly priced blocks.  Wood, a few nails, some cardboard, blocks, bricks, paper, old equipment that they are allowed to take apart, glue guns, glitter and paste (if you dare, that stuff gets everywhere!), some trees and planks of wood...  the list is endless and it can be ridiculously inexpensive if you can be creative with your thinking.  

If we asked our students to choose their favourite time of the week?  Maker Time.  Without.  A.  Doubt.  Don't we owe it to our kids to give them an education that is exciting and that nurtures their already-present creative skills?  Maker Time.  Let them be kids.  The learning that falls out of their passions is worth more than any textbook can teach them.

And now for the splendid cake-in-progress...  Isn't it beautiful?

It's About The Bond

Relationships.  The state of being connected to another person.  A bond formed between two people.

Being connected is the cornerstone in education.  I believe that the special bond that exists between teacher and student is the most important thing.  Building and maintaining a trusting relationship with your students makes all the difference in their engagement, motivation and successes at school.

Often as primary teachers we teach a student for a year or two, depending on the size of the school.  We see them for six or seven hours, five days a week, for 40 weeks (perhaps times two).  The relationship that is established, or not established, in that time is critical.

A warm and loving relationship between student and teacher (and I make no apology for using the word loving here) ensures that the student is able to take risks with their learning, and has a soft place to fall when they fail.  They are able to become more confident learners because they know that there is someone behind them who has their best interests at heart and who fully believes that they can achieve anything.

I had two beautiful experiences today that really demonstrated the power of a strong relationship with a student.  The first was as I walked into the garden of a funeral I was attending for the grandmother of one of my students.  As soon as she saw me she flung herself into my arms, nearly bowling me over with the sheer exuberance and relief that I was there.  In that moment I saw how important it was to her that I had come to support her, and how that must have made her feel so loved.  The second was later in the day.  A student who had come to our school at the start of last year wanted to finally introduce my colleague and I to his father, who he doesn't see very often.  I could see the pride glowing in him as we spoke to his father about how wonderful his son was, how his eyes glittered as his father shared his own experiences of noticing what a fantastic sportsman and intelligent boy his son was.  It meant the world to him.

A strong bond ensures that we can give constructive criticism and it is received in a (hopefully!) positive light.  We can set high expectations and they will be strived to be met.  When something goes wrong, as it almost certainly will, we can hold the student accountable and they will know that we are doing it because we truly care about them as a person, and want them to be better.  Those things do not happen if the bond is not there.

These relationships that we build during those 1400 hours each year mean so much to our students.  Having a teacher who truly likes them as an individual, who seeks to understand and 'get' them, who believes in them and puts in the time to craft learning experiences for them personally.... it's priceless.

Reframing the Loss

Change.  It's everywhere.  I found this quote by Deepak Chopra and it really reasonated with me.  All great changes are preceded by chaos.  It reminded me of something I heard last year that changed the way I feel about change.  And the way I deal with others going through it.

Last year I was lucky enough to attend ULearn14 with my colleagues.  It was an experience like no other I've been to in my teaching career.  I happened to stumble upon a really amazing speaker.  His name was Mark Osborne and after I heard him speak, the first time by accident, I went and changed sessions I had already booked to see him two more times during the three day conference.  He spoke a lot about change.  And it changed me.

There are two types of responses to change.  First Order Change and Second Order Change.  Depending on the situation people will fall into either category or some combination of both.  As leaders we need to be aware of these differences and receptive and responsive to both.  We need to have built positive relationships with our staff so that when these changes occur we are able to help each other through them and come out a stronger team on the other side.

Change is difficult.  Sometimes overwhelmingly so.  People often have a lot to lose when something changes and this is extremely hard.  A leader needs to recognise the response to change and to give the person what they need to get through it.

First Order Change is a when a person is learning something new and is open to the change but needs help in managing it.  It might be the addition of new technology into their classroom such as iPads or the change from PCs to laptops.  People going through this type of change need manuals, checklists and helpful tips to get them used to the change and embrace it.  This kind of change is relatively simple.  Just provide the scaffolding and support.  Done.

Second Order Change is harder.  Much harder.  It often occurs when a current framework is changed, perhaps something like moving from a paper system of management to a paperless one, bringing in BYOD in a deviceless school or completely changing the year level that a teacher has always taught in.  A person going through this type of change will feel threatened, scared, or like there is no-way possible that they will be able to manage this new 'normal'.  This response requires kindness, support, a listening ear, reassurance.  There needs to be trust and a supportive relationship to get through this change successfully.

When I think about the times in my teaching career when someone has really dug their toes in about something, I am left convinced that they were going through Second Order Change.  When I think about how I could have helped them more, I wish I had known the things I know now.  While I, or some of my other colleagues, may have needed a manual or a quick demo to learn the new skill, the toe-digger probably needed someone to talk to about how scary this was for them, someone to give them reassurance and guide them gently and patiently through.  Toe-diggers are often seen as saboteurs or dissenters of new ideas.  They are often given the same manual as the rest of the team and told to get on with it.  How well does this really work.  Is the change embraced?  The person left motivated and inspired?  In my past experience, no.

The next time you see a colleague digging their toes in, ask yourself if they have something to lose, if the change is actually overwhelmingly scary and big for them.  Ask them how they are feeling about it and listen between the lines.  Take them out for a coffee.  Build your relationship.  Give them reassurance and offer to guide them through.  You might be surprised how the response changes.  I dare you.

Thanks to Mark Osborne (@mosborne01) for introducing this idea to me, for helping me to learn how to help others through change.  

Positive Playgrounds

Today I set about making a positive change to the playground culture in my school.  It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, or even inventive.  It was stock-standard, run-of-the-mill stuff.  But it will make a difference.

The positive change I made today?  I sat down with our three oldest classrooms of students and taught them all the same rules to a game.  I explained to the students that problems in the playground often boil down to someone thinking that something is not fair and then reacting to that feeling in an angry way.  The person probably doesn't deem it fair because there is a misinterpretation of the rules of the game.  The students nodded in agreement.

Together we discussed the rules, debated a few of the trickier ones, drew diagrams and checked that we all understood what was expected of us when we played this game.  Heading outside the oldest students modelled the game for the younger ones, taking the game slowly, being careful to be honest and to be fair.  We then all jumped onto the field, the mixed age groups working alongside each other in a positive way to practice the game.  And then we actually played it.

You see, not rocket science, not reinventing the wheel.  Just stock-standard, run-of-the-mill stuff.  But it works.

Making positive changes to playground culture starts with the basics.

• Letting the students have a say in creating the rules. 
• Making sure that all students understand how to play the games that are available to them in the playground.
• Discussing ways to deal with each other respectfully when a disagreement arises.  Practising this.
• Meeting regularly with students to talk about playground issues and how to minimise these.  The students know the answers.  They just need a voice.

We don't need to reinvent the wheel, we don't need to have a degree in rocket science.  We just need to do the basics well.  Repeat the steps often.  Keep talking to our kids.  Make that positive change to playground culture.

Adapting Our Practice

Adults are slow learners.  Not all the time but there are definitely moments, as teachers, when we sure are.

In the classroom we often hear teachers figuratively banging their head against the proverbial brick wall when a student cannot grasp a concept or a piece of knowledge that they have told them over and over again.  It's not the child.  They are not the slow learner here.

Adapting our practice is paramount to student success.  Changing the status quo in order to find the missing puzzle piece for a child should be foremost in our teachers' minds as they contemplate why a student isn't achieving success, or what they can do to make a difference to how a student learns.  For teachers this can mean stepping out of their comfort zone, onto some unidentifiable twig thin branch.  Walking a tightrope between what we are used to and the unknown realm of possibility.

How often do we teach as we like to be taught, in ways that we understand, on topics that we find interesting?  Adapting our practice means learning to let go of this.  Stepping into the unknown and out into the uncertain.  Trying new things.  Asking a new set of questions from an endless ocean of answers.  Being brave.

If we are to truly nurture a child to their full potential the go-to proverbial brick wall needs to come down.  Our head banging needs to become head-scratching, solution-searching.  We need to "fail fast, and fix it fast" (a quote I have used in a previous post and still cannot find the rightful owner to give credit to!).  Our teachers need to develop a growth mindset and to continually push forward into the great expanse of that-which-is-not-yet-known to seek pathways that may lead to success for our students.

We ask our students to be brave in their learning.  We need to expect it of our teachers too.

Nurturing Young Minds

Little Miss Four loves to water her vegetable plants.  She takes it very seriously.  A little too seriously sometimes and the plants are awash with water, overflowing onto the warm concrete around her feet.  She talks to the plants.  Exclaims in pure delight when a ripe tomato is spotted.  Shrieks in horror when the Miss Two picks something she isn't supposed to.  Very serious business indeed, this gardening thing.

The love of nature, of nurturing things is inherent in our children.  They are born with the desire to look after things - babies, small animals, plants.  Their not-so-gentle hands not yet mirroring the gentleness of their hearts.

As educators it is our passion to nurture the minds of the next generation of learners.  Nurture them in ways that are not only the requisite Reading, Writing and Mathematics.  We need to grow them as well-rounded individuals meeting their need to be the caretakers of their environment, instilling in them a life-long love of creativity, of individuality, of giving.  A passion to make a difference in their world.  The belief that they are capable of making that difference.

Environmental Education has long been a passion of mine and I love to watch those children with a particular love for their environment really spark and ignite when they are given the freedom to garden, to get their hands dirty, pull weeds and pluck ripe fruit from the vine.  It is priceless.  The look of pure enjoyment by simply being surrounded by nature, being allowed to breathe in the fresh air, soak in the grassy scents and weave magic with their green fingers.  Our children need to experience this on a regular basis.

Children are born with nurturing young minds.  Let us as educators continue to nurture their young minds holistically and help this beautiful world of ours have passionate caretakers in this, and in the following, generations to come.

Pencil Personalities

We all have them in our schools.  The Pencil Personalities.  I'm not sure who crafted this nifty little image but it was based on one from www.teachers.ash.org.au.  I love it.  Hopefully the image is clear enough to read but I will attempt to explain the Pencil Metaphor in more detail below.

First we have the Leaders.  These are the driving force behind change in our schools.  The people who take the bull by the horns and jump in feet first when something new and technologically exciting comes along.  At the 'pointy end of things' as my old Principal used to say.

The Sharp Ones watch carefully to see what the early adopters have done with the technology, they take the best parts, learn from their mistakes and put lots of effort into making sure that their students have the best opportunities available to them.  The Leaders and Sharp Ones are the visionaries in your school.  They need support and time to try new things in a safe environment.  They also need time to focus and consolidate new knowledge and practices before charging onto the next adventure.  A good leader will provide the scope for these people to be creative and enthusiastic but also keep a little tension on the reigns so that they don't end up miles and miles ahead of everyone else thus creating a divide in your staff.

The Wood.  I like this one.  They would use the technology if someone would set them up with it, give them training and keep the programmes running for them.  These are the people who like to think they walk the talk, but really things would fall over if there wasn't someone in the background managing it for them.  The Wood people are usually going through first-order change, they need manuals, step-by-step instructions to help them through the change it's not so much scary as it is work.

The Ferrules are people who grasp tightly onto what they've always done.  They don't really like change and believe that traditional practice serves our students just fine thank you.

The Erasers are those people in your school who like to erase or undo the hard work done by the Leaders.  They are the ones who are stuck-in-the-mud, who don't like change because they have something to lose from changing.  They like to sabotage attempts to develop modern teaching practices and introduce new technology.  The Ferrules and Erasers have something to lose by changing from the status quo.  They are going through second-order change and need a lot of emotional support to help guide them through what to them is a scary experience.

And... the Hangers-On.  These people mean well, they like to attend Professional Development sessions and learn all the latest lingo so they can talk about it, but they never actually do anything with it.  These people need to be motivated.  They need to know the purpose and outcomes for the change.  They need a reason to want to make the leap from talking about the change to actually diving in and doing it.

So... the Pencil Personalities.  They are out there in our schools.  We all fit into one of the categories.  As leaders we need to manage the variety of personalities on our staff and help to guide everyone towards the greater goal of best practice, and provide the best opportunities for our students.

Which Pencil Personality are you??

Unity Is Strength

A little over a year ago my Principal at the time casually suggested that my colleague next door and I try to do some team teaching.  You know, just dip your toes in.  See what happens.  He suggested we start with reading groups.  He didn't know who he was talking to.  Suggesting anything to someone, or in this case two someones, who are competitive, type-A personalities with a bent towards perfectionism, usually ends in a boots-and-all situation.  And this was no different.

It just so happened that we were about to go Google at the same time and this meant that our summer break was spent online collaborating over Google Docs trying to nut out planning, assessments and how this team-teaching thing was going to work.

With our boots-and-all attitude and respect for each other as teachers I just knew that this was going to be a great year.  We delved into the pedagogy behind great team-teaching, researched modern learning environments and arranged to visit high-performing schools utilising the same techniques and practices that we wanted to implement.   We went in eyes open, brains switched on.  Learning at the heart of everything we did.

We had two single-cell classrooms connected through an ordinary-sized door.  Starting the year off we eased the students and ourselves into the team teaching environment, after all this was a mixed age group of two classes - one Years 3 and 4, the other Years 5 and 6.  The parents of the younger students were already nervous about their children being 'seniors' this year, we didn't want to completely terrify them.  The students of course just ran with it.  They thrived in their separate classes and they thrived when we came together for reading, then mathematics, then writing and all other curriculum areas.  Soon we were together all the time.  The students excelled.  They, and their parents, loved it.

Team teaching has so many benefits when done with the learners best interests at heart, for the right reasons and with a good team in place.  Mutual trust and respect are pivotal.  So is having a sense of humour and the ability to be flexible.  Great teams bounce off each other, accentuating and complementing each other's talents and strengths while supporting and balancing each other's weaknesses.  Personnel placement is a huge consideration.  My Principal was chuffed.  This was going better, he admitted, than he had even dreamed.

For one thing, my colleague was male.  Our boys in particular really looked up to him.  We complemented each other in terms of gender, and balanced out the students need for specific response types.  We could play good-cop/bad-cop when we needed to.  They had a soft place to fall and also someone to tell them to take a spoonful of cement when that was more appropriate for the situation.  The biggest unexpected gift I think that came of our teaching relationship that year was that our students had both a male and a female role model who worked together as a team.  We knew that a lot of our students didn't have that modelled for them at home, a positive collaboration between genders, and it was an honour to be able to show them how two people could work together for a common purpose - them.  It just worked.

Lessons I have learned:

• Your fear of being observed will be quickly conquered - you are constantly being observed.
• You will learn how to give constructive criticism and supportive feedback, after all your own teaching depends on the successes of your team mate.
• You will laugh more than ever before in a classroom, with the students falling over themselves laughing alongside the both of you.  This is pure magic.
• If you have a bad day, there is always someone there to pick you up or to take over while you take a minute to gather yourself back together.
• There is a sink next door and an open door through which to quietly sneak your half cold coffees into.
• You will learn to relax, to be flexible, to go-with-the flow - because you have to.
• A high-five is never more than a few steps away.
• The load is shared.  The disappointments halved.  The celebrations doubled.

Simply put, last year was the best year in my teaching career so far.  This team-teaching thing is pretty damn awesome.

Failure Is An Option

People always say that 'failure isn't an option' and in the past I've always tended to agree with them.  As a bit of a perfectionist the thought of failure, no matter how insignificant, has never really sat well with me.  There is great pressure in that.  Pressure I've put on myself.

As a teacher we tell our students that it is okay to make mistakes.  They need to know that.  Otherwise what's the point of learning?  Our students don't know the things we are teaching them, and they are going to make mistakes on the path to mastering them.  For them failure is something they encounter and stumble over on a regular basis.  I started to wonder why I thought it was necessary for students to encounter failure and yet not acceptable for myself.

I am an oldest child.  I think that has something to do with it.  Oldest children are often perfectionists.  It's in our wiring.  Unlike younger siblings we only had adults to watch to learn to do things and we want everything to be just perfect.  So I've found making mistakes hard.  Now as an adult I realise that mistakes are proof that you are trying, that you are learning.

When we experience failure the hardest thing to get over is often our own egos.  We feel like we are not good enough, that we should just give up.  There are lessons here for us in dealing with our students when they experience failure, after all they don't know that failure isn't the end of the world.

• Give them opportunities to fail in a safe environment, when all is not lost through making a mistake.
• Teach them to recognise when they have failed and give them the tools to reflect on why, and how to move forward in a positive way.
• Help them to understand the importance of feedback so they can begin to learn to take advice and constructive criticism.

Failure is a necessary key to success, indeed it is likely the most important ingredient.  Without it we are not pushed to new heights, to try new ways of doing things.  How many times has a person achieved their greatest success just beyond what seemed to be their greatest failure.  A great quote I've heard is that everyone needs to fail.  But when you fail you need to fail fast and then you need to fix it fast.

I like that.

Be prepared to make mistakes.  But when you do brush yourself off and quickly set about trying to right it.  The key to success is to not let failure get you down but to use it to spur you on to bigger, better and brighter things.  To come back the next time with a smarter approach, a stronger will to make it work.

Failure is often dressed as disappointment but it is also cloaked in beautiful possibility.

Failure is an option.  

Just One Of Those Days

Today I had one.  You know, one of those days.

It began at 3am with the dramatic appearance of Miss Four standing beside my bed, and continued for the next two hours with a little hand flung repeatedly into my face, or a knee jabbed into my back.  She was asleep.  I was not.  Two hours more of precious sleep and then the day began.  I got to work early.  Very early.  Today was going to be a busy day.

The day snowballed from there.  It was me.  I was run off my feet today.  Start-of-the-year-itis.

Volunteered to do the coffee run, early morning staff meeting, rush to get long term planning and timetables ready to hand to admin, talking to parents, teaching, marking papers, gluing on book labels, cutting art work, teaching the students about the Treaty of Waitangi, covering duty for a colleague with an injured ankle, cleaning water spills in the bathroom, teaching, helping other classes, checking on enviro, teaching, dealing with lunchtime issues in the playground, missing lunch, eating lunch late, teaching, manning the pool, talking to parents, dishing out art resources.  Sigh.  It was one of those days.

You know the kind - non-stop.  Not even enough time to sit down for a breather.  No breaks.

My saving grace came in the form of my colleagues and students.

A helping hand on the coffee run, collaborating over Google Docs for timetables and long term plans, an extra pair of hands to cut labels, team teaching, a thank you from a relieved colleague with an injured ankle, a child who tearfully owned up to the water spill and helped to clean it up, students who were willing to run errands around the school for me when they'd finished their work, a sandwich brought for me from a colleague who knew I'd forgotten lunch today, team-players who came and helped out with tricky playground matters, magnificent students who followed instructions and got everything done that I asked of them, light-hearted conversation while manning the pool, an extra pair of arms to carry the art gear.  It was one of those days.

I am so lucky that on one of those days, I had one of those days where even though everything seems to be crumbling around me, there are helping hands to help me scoop up the pieces.

So.  Lucky.

Excellence - A Habit, Not An Act

Yesterday I cried at school, just a few tears but tears nonetheless.  It was the third day at school.  That must be some kind of record, at least for me anyway.  It was one of those moments that you live for in teaching, when a child has a break through with something that they have been trying to crack for a long time.  In this case - four years.

Every year for four years during the summer months, a student in our school struggled through school swimming lessons.  Right from the start he wasn't sure of the water.  Perhaps terrified would be a more apt word.  Every year for four years his teachers would gently try and encourage him into the water, gradually getting more of his body wet, getting him into the water faster.  Every year his mother would come to us, concerned about her son's water confidence, his lack of water skills.  Wanting desperately for him to be like the other students who splashed and swam effortlessly.  This young boy would spend his time in the shallows, a teacher close at hand, repeatedly trying to put his chin, cheeks, nose under the water... even just letting his face get wet was hard for him.  Last year he progressed to blowing bubbles - a huge accomplishment.  We all celebrated with him, such was the enormity of what that meant for him.

This year started no differently.  A visit from a parent, loving mother, reminding us of her son's fear of water, hoping that he would get more confident again this season.  They'd (mother and son) made a deal - his whole head UNDER the water by the time he leaves our school in two years time.  Such small steps towards the  bravest of goals.

I knelt down beside him as he got into the water, crouching low to get as close to him as possible without getting wet myself.  The hard concrete of the pool's edge biting into my knees.

"You can do it".

"I want to try".

Quiet words between two people with trust joining them tangibly together.  He dipped lower into the water and I measured his attempts on his head, touching him lightly to show him how close he was getting.  Further and further he went down, inching towards this seemingly unattainable goal.  How does one so young demonstrate such perseverance in the face of such overwhelming fear?  I was in awe of him already.  I called over one of my colleagues as the top of his head was just barely visible above the water.  We watched together.  Held our breath.  Cheering him quietly on.

Then suddenly he was under.  Fully under.  For the first time in his life.

Tears.

The moment was so precious.  We jumped.  Cheered.  Celebrated and high-fived.  We showed the other teachers, took a video of his second dunk for his mother, who surely wouldn't believe us - two years early for this achievement.  Who would have thought?

And then his mother walked down the path towards the pool.  I ran.  Grabbed her.  Told her and as she realised what he'd done - tears.  Enormous hugs.  And then she was racing down to the pool to find her son.

I will never forget this.  I think it will live with me for a very long time.

That moment when someone demonstrates excellence.  This child who had repeatedly tried, struggled towards his own excellence had finally achieved it.  Four years.  Incredible.  Four years of a team of people quietly understanding the greater goal of excellence - that is an habit, not an act.  A repeated action towards success.  Four years of patience and perseverance.  Of bravery and encouragement.

And then this.  What a reward.

What's In A Desk?

My third post for the #28daysofwriting challenge is going to be an analysis of my desk at school.  This idea came from @mrlockyer who posted a list of 29 ideas for #28daysofwriting yesterday.  Number 25 seemed like a good idea at the time - "Write about your desk.  Show us a photo.  Don't tidy it beforehand".  Now I'm not so sure. 

Now anyone who knows me that my desk is often a cluttered mess of pieces of my life strewn across it's top.  Until now.  Last year my colleague and I trialled getting rid of traditional desks and trying to stick with a shelf to house all of the necessities for life as a teacher.  Last year it worked well.  I had a tiny shelf with a tiny top that I found impossible to stack things on.  Enter this year... a change in classroom, no small shelf... a larger one with a much larger top.  It's pretty much like having a desk again, except it's a shelf.  Or maybe a cupboard.  I haven't decided.

The start of the year is the most kind time to photograph my desk.  I try to give the illusion that I maintain a tidy desk, I try to set a good example for my students rather than a 'do what I say, not what I do' stance on desk etiquette.  Last year my do-gooder stance lasted all year and I was secretly incredibly impressed with myself.  This year I'm not so sure, it's going to be harder work.

So the breakdown - what my desk says about me:

The cord running across my desk means that I do not have an extension cord long enough to go around the back thus hiding it and it also means I have had a complete lack of time to hunt one out.  It really, really bugs me.  Obviously not enough to do something about it yet though.

The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe - we are into day two of reading this book and the students are entralled.  So am I.  I've never read it and I can't imagine why ever not.

The hat, sunblock and keys are absolute necessities, especially for duty days when roaming the grounds in the heat of summer (with mozzie repellent thrown in for good measure and never one to be unprepared - I have two bottles of it on my desk).

The skewer of notes are reminders from parents for the multitude of things running through my tired brain at the end of each day - who can't swim and why, who's going where and when, all the possible reasons - both made-up and real, for every situation imaginable.

A little plaque that reads "Children are born with wings, teachers help them learn to fly".  I love that quote.  It's the reason I do what I do.

The papers in a pile, a subtle hint that I have a lot to do and have done not nearly enough of any of it.  Hidden out of sight from the photograph is the much (much!) larger pile of papers on the floor in front of my desk...  You know, trying to keep a tidy desk and all.

Baby wipes... hmmm I may lean towards having a messy desk, but never let it be said that it is a dirty one!  A bit of a perfectionist and clean freak, my penchant for things to be clean is evidenced in the wipes, and sponges, disinfectant, and sprays (eco-friendly of course!) that are out of sight.

Stationery.  I love stationery.  One can never have enough stationery.  Period.

Surprisingly there is not a half finished cup of cold coffee on there.  Very surprising.  But then it is the start of the year and I'm trying to turn over a new leaf.  

So that's my 'desk'.  Or shelf.  Maybe a cupboard.  Or place-to-house-ever-increasing-amounts-of-stuff.  Whatever you want to call it, it really does say a lot about a person.  What does yours say about you?