The Bitter Waters of Humble Pie

I eat a lot of humble pie, and you'd think the tummy aches, fever, and lack of sleep would steer me clear of that acrid experience, but no.  Often an idea takes hold and I see nothing but the finish line as I point my teaching ship in that direction navigating the idea's twists and turns until the lovely finish line arrives.

Others, perhaps far wiser than me, test the waters first, and make sure they have abundant supplies (support) before taking off. But not me. With the wind of an idea on my back, I take off towards the light of the idea's impact.  Small set backs typically don't stop me as I usually see them for what they are as I navigate the seas ahead.

I'm getting older now though, and an unsteady ship is starting to challenge my shaky knees and less limber body--I'm too aware of what a rock's knife-edge can do to my ship at a time when safe sailing is more needed and desired.  Hence for a time I'll shelter myself in a cottage by the coastal edge spending some time with pens and paper, wondering, thinking, and resting.

I'll bid the young sailors a good dream sail, and soften their humble pie with a dollop of whipped cream to sweeten the bitter taste.

I'll finish my pie straight up, so I don't forget humility's sharp reminders any time too soon.  I'm not fond of humble pie, and as I grow older I find myself desiring a slice of sweet blueberry or coconut custard instead.

The journey's pitch was steep, but the teaching ship will continue after a short, but longer than usual, respite.  I thank my journeyman for their kind words, truth, and inspiration. Onward.

Another bite of Humble Pie

Yes, I ate another piece of humble pie today. It's been a while since I had a slice of that acrid dessert. I approached a situation with much less seriousness than expected, and that resulted in the bitter bite.

The decisions were rushed, the emails skimmed, and the plans rearranged a bit without notice to others involved. A lesson learned.

In the future, we'll have to make the time to sit down and plan it all out carefully step-by-step, minute-by-minute, person-by-person. In the past, the event was much more relaxed, but now it seems to carry more weight, care, and caution.

So as I ate the bitter sweet, I owned my part and offered to re-do the task. A lesson learned and if you want to find the light in the event, it's that I'm glad it happened early in the year rather than later. Onward.

Know Your Place

When entertaining and studying big ideas in education, there's a temptation to forget your place as a teacher. Teachers are still workers who have leadership, rules, and contracts.  We work in systems where we have mandates and protocols to follow.

There's a temptation to want what you imagine for schools to be present right now, in the moment--vibrant communities of ready share, collaboration, debate, and forward movement, but the reality is that schools are organizations of multiple view points, roles, structures, schedules, and timelines--no one alone dictates this, and teachers usually don't make leadership decisions.

Forgetting one's role can stand in one's way of successful work. This becomes difficult when belief systems, new information, and ideas differ from the current landscape. What is one to do?

First, understand the educational landscape that you work in accurately. Know your role, and understand how to advocate effectively. It's okay to take risks, but you have to know the consequences with regard to those risks.

Next, seek collegial advice and insights. Often idealists need the real-time perspective of trusted colleagues to understand situations well, because often idealists see no reason why a dream, vision, and belief can't be implemented or needs a different process.

After that, mostly know your role, and work your magic, vision, and beliefs through your role. When treading outside of your role you risk troubles, troubles that are often not worth the time and effort.

Schools are still not the learning communities I dream of--schools are political organizations often far more complex than the clients they serve or the agenda that's important.  As I move forward with greater understanding of all of this, I also move in a direction of greater service to the children I teach and the families I serve as a classroom teacher.  I'll continue to write about my vision for good schools and optimal process--process that serves to move us towards a learning community.  I'll heed the lessons I've learned of late eating a bit of humble pie in that regard (must say I don't like the taste of humble pie, but it serves the spirit well in the long run), and I'll dive into my new challenge. Lessons learned.

Humility and Growth

It takes humility to grow.

Yet, eating humble pie is not always that inviting. I've written about that before.

I would change this to "There is no growing. . "

Though when you're willing to be humble and act on it, the growth is awesome.

Substantial Share, Sharing of Substance?

Is there a difference between substantial share and sharing of substance.

I share a lot.  I love to banter and toss ideas around like a ball.  I tell my own children, "Ideas are my sport."

Yet, there's a difference between banter and substantial share, and there's a difference between substantial share meaning the size or number of shares and sharing of substance referring to the meaning and value of a share.

In my blog share, I've been writing for many audiences including myself (to cheer myself on for challenging work), my clients (families and students), my evaluators (leaders), my PLN, and every other learner out there that might profit from my error, idea, or insight.

Similarly I read and listen to the ideas and discussion of many, a diverse online and offline audience. Frankly I'm interested in the weave of ideas that permeate our world today--and I'm even more interested in those ideas that have potential for better lives and a better world.  I do believe we have work to do, and there's lots of potential for moving things forward in positive ways.  This notion has been born from my own life, a life that has profited from positive growth and change due to the efforts of many.

Recently an error that I've made is that I have felt that I had to import all of my ideas and research into my work.  Recently I tried to snowplow a big idea into a system that wasn't ready for the change.  I didn't sneak the idea in, instead I publicly and transparently researched, planned, collaborated and began the idea only to find that the idea was unwelcome and worse, criticized and scrutinized with strength forcing me to eat a huge slice of humble pie as well as to rethink my professional work and effort. Now I realize that one can research, write about, and play with big ideas without having to embed all of those ideas into current work.  Current work and big ideas can be separate at times, and your work doesn't always have to reflect all of your research and current ideas. "Practice what you preach" is a motto with integrity, but the reality is you may work in places that are not ready for the weave of your "practice" with your "preach."

This revelation, probably surprising to some, brings me a great deal of freedom for now I know that my thinking, ideas, and research can take up one thread of life while my current work can travel another thread.  When possible I'll mesh the two, but when impossible I'll write about one, and practice another until time allows the change.

This brings me a sense of direction and peace.  In class, I'll innovate, embed, and practice the new and old ideas that are welcome including reading, writing, and math workshop and social studies/science unit exploration.  And in my writing, I'll continue to research and share ideas related to optimal learning environments, pedagogy, experiences, and tools.  This is a juncture where the river divides for a time, and in a sense I am traveling both streams, and that's okay.  Our day-to-day practice, work, and living may not always match our future dreams, research, and vision.  One brings the daily sustenance while the other serves as the light that leads us forward.

Thanks to my PLN near and far for sharing this important positive step in my teaching and learning life. As always, your thoughts are welcome.

Teacher Leadership: MTA Opportunity

The thought of teacher leadership after a career of 29 years in the classroom is both attractive and daunting. When you've taught for 29 years, and you're a vocal, risk taker like me, you've eaten a lot of humble pie. Yet, if the passion still burns strong in your soul, you may still feel the desire to grow your craft and voice as one way to contribute to the profession and support the promise and potential optimal education holds for every child.

That's why I applied to the MTA's Teacher Leadership Initiative. I'm sure that the initiative will draw a large number of well qualified applicants and that's promising for all teachers in Massachusetts. I'm glad that our Union is supporting this effort as it matches the U.S. Department of Education's teacher leadership initiative as well as the wonderful potential greater teacher leadership holds for our schools and students.

If you have the desire to remain a teacher and to lead too, you may be interested in this initiative. Take a look. Efforts like this are what make our Union strong, and when our Union is strong, teachers have what they need to serve students well.

Vision and Reality: Moving Down the Teaching/Learning Path

I envy those who work toward significant change with success--it's a gift to be able to move forward with light, grace, and care, and make improvements in any locale.

It's not easy to advocate for change--it takes skill.

Yet, as a member of my PLN, Gail, reminds me, the small steps in your own place of authority and effort offer the easiest space to affect change. There's less avenues to travel, and more frequent space to assess and refine as you go along.

The White House Student Film Festival filled me with hope today, and gave me the inspiration to speak up once again for some ideas I value, yet it's clear that the way I speak, ask questions, and advocate is not welcome and challenged by some. Hence, I will need to learn more about this to grow, another bite of humble pie as I journey down the path of teaching/learning well.

Some may say, Why reveal this side of your life and work?  My answer is that it's simply easier to grow beyond this when the challenge is transparent--there's no ill intent in my share, only a strong desire to make positive change. Hence as I travel down this road, I'll learn, and as I've learned in the past, this will strengthen the work I'm able to do to teach children well.

Rerouting the Teaching Path Yet Again

Throughout my career the teaching path has been rerouted again and again for countless reasons, and now I'm in the process of another redirection. Each time, the rerouting finds me focused more closely towards the specific tasks related to teaching students at my grade-level. To me, this simply says that I'm meant to work with students. Funny how life corrects your path when you veer in other directions.

As I think of this rerouting to even deeper and more specific work related to the students I serve, I'm thinking of what this means.

Vignettes come to mind such as the focus this afternoon on teaching kids to play a fair game of kickball. No easy task, but boy were they having fun once the game started flowing and everyone began playing by the same rules.

Letting my small group of fifth grade girls lead me through the museum today. Listening to their bright questions, connections, and inferences. Noticing what they love.

Hearing young children on the bus tell me about their personal interests, questions, and dreams for the future--watching who they gravitate towards and what they like to do.

Observing the student teacher's terrific poise, attention, and care for the students, and feeling gratitude for the dedicated and gifted teachers and teaching assistants that work with me each and every day.

Looking at the wonderful new furniture in my classroom that allows me to teach in a more modern, collaborative, and open way, and knowing that there are countless educators online and offline ready to help me learn via their books, presentations, conversations, conferences, blogs, and more.

I truly enjoy the focus of my work which is to teach children as well as I can. I like working with the children, their families, and my colleagues to problem solve, observe, discover, and seek the best ways to help each and every child. This is good work and work I'm committed to.

So in the days ahead, I'll eat a bit more humble pie as I redirect myself to the depths of classroom teaching and caring. I'll veer away from no-win areas of struggle and strife and work to do what I can to teach well. I can do this. Onward.

Humility: The chiseled rock

I often feel like a rock that is continually being chiseled in life. With every error, lesson, and experience, I am changed, and often those changes are humbling. I think, Why didn't I know that before? 

When we're open to learning and change, we also have to be open to the humility that comes with it. That humility also brings with it empathy too because as you learn, you understand about others' learning, challenges, and potential too.

Sometimes I wonder if parents and teachers have a monopoly on learning and humility since we face countless problems and growth opportunities daily. Our children at school and at home are constantly teaching us and broadening our perspectives. They continually hone our sense of justice, equity, respect, and contribution. We are much better because of them, but that doesn't mean the learning is always easy. We eat a lot of humble pie.

To do our best means to face each day with a fresh perspective and the new knowledge from the days before. As Jose Vilson inspires, "We can do this!"

Side talk, disagreements, and criticism

Yesterday I arrived home frustrated. It was a busy day, and a day when I had not anticipated a few scheduling matters that confounded the teaching/learning plans. Then later in the day some side talk, disagreement, and criticism seemed to seep into my veins, and I came home frustrated.

As with all frustrating days, I dissect the events to try to figure out how to make it better next time.

First of all, it's clear we've been trying to fit lengthy math tests into too short periods without adequate student accommodations. This is no one's fault, but instead a factor of not taking seriously the amount of time these tests take students to complete, and scheduling for this. In the future, we need to make a schedule that gives us the two-hour blocks that allow students to take these tests with ease, comfort, and appropriate supports. This will lessen the stress as well as the side talk, disagreement, and criticism that comes with it.

Next we need to talk openly and honestly about disagreement rather than make it fodder for side talk and quiet critique. We won't always agree about the way we teach or support students, and it's important to discuss disagreements openly and with respect. That creates better team and better service to students.

I'm always struck with that "Why didn't I know this before" feeling when I learn something new especially something as simple as the need to schedule more time for tests that take that much time--that's the humble pie that's a staple for good teachers everywhere. We're always learning new ways to teach and learn better, and sometimes that learning is humbling. Yet if we embrace the new learning, we serve our students and work with our colleagues better. Onward.