Your Class is Easy

"Mrs. Neill, thanks for a good semester. Your class is easy, and I really like that I feel successful in English."

True story - this was written in a thank you note from one of my students this year. I read that note, and doubting feelings crept into my heart. "Is my class easy? Am I challenging my students enough? Do I need to assign more homework? Should I plan more tests or quizzes? How do I make sure that my class looks like what a rigorous class should look like?"

And then, I took a deep breath, and I added that note to a list of comments that students have either said to me or written in notes. I come back to these comments when I start to doubt myself as a teacher. Some of those comments read:

• "I love to read again.
• "I finally understand how to connect two sentences correctly."
• "You are always so happy to see us when class begins.
• "You laugh at yourself when you make mistakes, I like that."
• "You interact with us the whole hour. You don't just assign work."
• "Whoa. Class is over? This class always goes by so quickly."
• "I think this is the best paragraph I have ever written."
• "I thought I was going to hate this class, and I did for a few weeks, but it turned into just what I needed."

Years ago, the comment "this class is easy" would send me into a tailspin of doubt. Now, I ask myself two questions: 

1. Are the students engaged in what we are doing - are they thinking critically? 
2. Am I making English useable for them - are they able to use this skill or technique outside of my class? 

I teach white-collar, blue-collar, and no-collar English. I teach future surgeons, soldiers, teachers, welders, and stay-at-home parents. How in the world do I possibly meet all of their needs? I can't. But I do try to make the most of the time that I have with them each day. There is a difference between rigor, difficulty, and complexity. 

We have not had a "test" this year in the majority of my classes. Does that mean my class is not rigorous or complex? My concern is no longer about trivial events in a story - I want more. I want to them to dissect characters' motives and an author's purpose for writing. Yesterday, for example, we had a pretty in-depth discussion about indirect characterization in "Masque of the Red Death" by Poe. Students discussed characters and inferred what traits and emotions were driving their actions. This led to a discussion about theme - how does a story written hundreds of years ago still relate to us to today? The answer: everyone, no matter their race, gender, or socio-economic status will face death someday - so what are we doing with the time we've been given? Next week we will look at how the idea of death is often personified. These activities and conversations tell me more about what they do and don't understand than the multiple choice tests that I used to give.

We have not had much "homework" this year. Does that mean my class is not rigorous or complex? I have asked students to start dedicating 10 minutes a night to independent reading. To this day, they have completed 562 novels. By becoming readers, they are doing so much to improve their understanding of how our language works. Every student has finished at least one book, and most of them will tell you they have read more in the last semester than they ever have. Yesterday, we tied our independent reading into our conversation about indirect characterization. I asked students to find an instance of indirect characterization in their own books, tell me what that quote taught them about the character being discussed, and then asked them to relate it back to a personal experience. We walk through the thinking process step-by-step so that they can do it without me their to guide them someday.

I have not just handed out examples or notes this year. Again, does that mean my class is not rigorous or complex? This year in my technical writing class, I could have just handed them sample resume. Instead, I had them look for what the experts said - what did they need to include in their resume to showcase their best attributes? I want them to walk through the learning process because a few years from now, they will do that - without guidance from a teacher. For some students, this is frustrating because they want to get the work done quickly. However, for most students, this teaches them to think critically, to decipher information, and to apply what they are reading to their own work. 

As a teacher, I rely on this informal "data" - because my class and the learning that takes place does not look like it did in years past. I used to be solely focused on end results - projects, posters, tests, and papers. Now, the learning process holds just as much weight. Students have to be able to identify ways that they have improved when they leave my classroom doors in May - or I have not done my job. They must "own" their learning. These kiddos have to be able to take what we are doing in class and apply it across content areas when they read and write. Students don't always have the words to describe their knowledge or understanding. So when a student says, "this class is easy" - I no longer dive into a tailspin of doubt. That is the phrase that causes me to stop, reflect and have a conversation about the learning taking place in my classroom. I am not perfect. I do not have all of the answers. Every day, I try to do better.

Let's Celebrate What Students CAN Do

Last week a student came bouncing into class and said, "Mrs. Neill, you are going to be so proud of me. I finished a book." And you know what, he was right - I was SO proud of him. We celebrated the fact that he completed a book, he wrote down his title, added a number to the class total and then headed to the library.  The next day in class, we celebrated a young lady who read the largest number of pages in one sitting that she could remember - I told her I was proud of her. Her mom messaged me that night on Facebook to tell me that her daughter was home reading again because of the recognition I gave her for her hard work. I also got to celebrate a student last week in an IEP meeting. This was a meeting that was filled with concerns about his learning - how his plan would follow him to college and how he can utilize resources to be successful. That's when I interjected and shared that he has read two free-verse novels this year. It was so much fun to see the conversation shift and the mother's shoulders raise - from worry about what her son was struggling with in school to what her son has already done this year. I have no doubt that this mom knows I am on her side. I also think that in the middle of that meeting, it dawned on me how much these students need to be celebrated.

When students walk into my classroom, many have already labeled themselves as bad readers and writers. They feel as thought they have spent years being asked to fix what they are doing incorrectly, even though I know that teachers do their best to balance the compliments with the criticism. Last year it dawned on me that I was going about my teaching the wrong way. Instead of pointing out what they were doing wrong, what would happen if we started with what we were doing right? What I wasn't expecting was how difficult that would be for some of my students.

We started with reading - we record our pages each day to check our progress. I simply ask students what pages they are on, write down the number they say, and then we start our 10 minutes of reading.   I don't need to see their books to check pages. I trust them, and they respect that. As of now, in 9 weeks, they have read 226 books. I trust them. We preview books. We keep a "to-read" list. We celebrate a 10 page increase from the previous days reading the same way we celebrate a 100 page increase. It costs me noting -- zip, zero, zilch -- to say aloud, "Wow, good job," or "You put in some reading time last night, " or my favorite: "Whoo hoo!" But you know what, taking the time to recognize effort puts smiles on their faces and a willingness in their hearts to keep trying. They now let me know if they don't like a book. They stick around after class to tell me about their book. We celebrate their reading successes in class, and they are beginning to love reading again. It is a beautiful sight.

Sometimes, (just like a mom who sneaks into her children's rooms to watch them sleep) I just stop and look in awe of them and their reading habits. I love these kids to pieces!

I have also changed how I approach writing. True story - I am teaching white collar, blue collar, and no collar English. The majority of my students are not going to be English majors, but they will all have to write throughout their lives. When these kiddos walk out of my classroom, they need to be able to identify the techniques they have learned that have improved their writing. One of the activities we do is we look for "red flag" words, and we learn grammar rules or patterns specific to those words. We drop the grammatically correct terms, and make them useable. As much as it pains this former sentence diagrammer to say it, students do not need to be able to tell me that a coordinating conjunction is joining two independent clauses. One example of how we do this is we look for the word "and" in our sentences; we try to determine if "and" is joining a list of two words, a list of three or more words, or two simple sentences. Once we can determine what the word is doing in a sentence, we know how to punctuate it. When it comes to revising our writing, students now have a game plan. They know to look for those words and determine their function in the sentence. They know check for any punctuation marks surrounding them. So much of writing is a mind-game. It is being able to tell their inner critics to hush-up because they know there are doing a few more things better on this essay than the last. It is a way to know before turning in that you have done everything right that you can -- that is a powerful feeling. In a sense, we celebrate what we are doing right which allows us to be more open about what we need to improve.

These are just two ways the approach to learning in my class is changing. I am constantly asking myself, how can I celebrate the good that students are bringing to my class each day? How can I make students feel appreciated for taking chances in their reading or writing? Energy attracts like energy - this is why I will continue to work each day to establish a classroom environment that attracts risk-taking and celebrating. (And, it is fun!)

How can you celebrate your learners - to meet them where they are at, lift them up, and then watch their learning soar to levels they never knew were possible?

Be Open

Almost two years ago, I had a colleague come to me about a new student in her class. She was concerned that he should be moved into Honors Freshman English because of his love for reading and writing. She was concerned for two reasons: it was already October -- almost half way through the semester, and she was thinking of moving him to an honors class which would take longer for him to get caught up. But she felt the need to advocate for him. To look at all of the options. To push for answers.

In October of 2015, this young man joined my class. He was always the last to leave. He always thanked me for teaching him, and told me to have a good day. There was something about him that was genuine, and I needed to know more.

You see, sometimes as teachers, we have to guard our hearts. If we truly knew every student's story, we may never be able to walk into the classroom and teach because the emotional weight of it all is so much to carry. Our students overcome trauma that would knock the feet out from most adults. But these kids, they are resilient. They are fighters. They are smart, and considerate, and courageous. Nevertheless, we do the best we can to learn about our students. We celebrate their victories, big and small. We hurt when their hearts are hurting. We lie awake concerned, often in prayer, for these students that fill our rooms each day. So I took a chance and let my heart be open to learning his story.

Every day that this student walked out of my classroom, a part of me changed. As I allowed my heart to be open to his story, I learned about a young man who was in foster care, unsure of what would happen to him in an over-loaded system. Each day I learned more about his story, and each day a voice in my head whispered, "You could help him." And then one day, he called. His mother had signed away her rights.

It took many months for me to listen to my gut, to have a conversation with my husband about this young man. To be honest, we were both a little surprised that we so easily agreed to open our home to a teenager. 

And so, a year ago today, my family changed. On August 29, 2016, our teenager walked into our home for the first time with everything he owned stuffed into trash bags -- we were forevermore a family of five. My two younger sons had an automatic big brother. He now walks them to school, watches Pokemon with them, and takes them fishing. My husband and I gained another son - who has been "all in" from the get-go. We jumped full speed into cell phones, driving, college, and dating. My soon-to-be-adopted son has two parents who treat him as their own. He now has a safe home, with rules, expectations, laughter and love.

This colleague of mine, no doubt, saved his life. She was open to the possibility that there was more we could do as a school to help this student. And she saved his life. As a mom, I will never be able to thank her enough for this - for going the extra mile.

We teachers have the greatest job in the world. We get to walk into a classroom full of students each day, and be open to learning alongside them, open to their stories, and open to the future potential they hold. Little did I know, that by being open, I would gain another son. It makes me curious to see what this year holds. Teachers, love these kids fiercely. Fight for them each day. Be open. It may just change your life. It might just save theirs.

This Is How We've Always Done It

One of the most dangerous phrases in an ever changing world is, "this is the way we've always done it." That phrase does not support innovation. It does not support future-driven thinking. It does take us back to days gone by, when life seemed slower and simpler, but it does little to impact the future. It is deeply rooted in fear -- and fear stifles growth. 

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to learn a writing technique from a former teacher of mine, Mr. Manes. This technique (we call it SEED writing) makes so much sense, and it blends seamlessly into all content areas in our school. I remember commenting, "Where was this when I was in school?" Conversation followed, and my former teacher asked me a question that has not left me to this day. 

He said, "If given the chance, would you want your children to go to the school you went to as a kid, or would you want your children to go to the school in which you currently teach?" 

Without much hesitation, I answered, "Hands down, where I teach." 

This brought on such a juxtaposition of emotions. As a high school student many years ago, I felt success as a writer for the first time in Mr. Manes's class. And, to be honest, as a new teacher, I used many of his techniques in my own classroom. I felt a sense loyalty to the effort and energy that he poured into our class each day - the countless papers he graded, the class discussion that he facilitated, the characters he brought to life, and the corny jokes he played on us. But you see, it was then that I realized if this amazing teacher can continue to change and adapt to meet his students needs -- SO. CAN. I. 

If you ask teachers what inspired them to become a teacher, you will most likely be told about former educators and coaches who changed their lives. I used to think that by teaching the way I was taught, I was paying tribute to the amazing teachers who taught me. My teacher heroes -- Mr. Manes, Mr. Rankin, Ms. Larson, and Mr. Smith -- are a large part of why I became a teacher. As crazy as this sounds, I think a part of me feared that I would somehow let my former teachers down, or even negate the impact they had on my life if I changed the way I taught. I now know this simply is not true.

I believe, with all of my heart, that my former teachers were innovators. I believe that they used the tools and resources at their disposal to teach us the best way they knew how. I also know that the tools and resources that I currently use as a teacher are far surpassing. Because of tools such as Twitter and Voxer, I can learn with colleagues (from all over the world I might add) 24/7, all year long. Because of tools such as Google Docs, my students can collaborate on collective writing assignments while I give real-time feedback; I can also alter assignments as we are working on them to better meet the needs of individual classes and students. Because of websites like Flipgrid, I can raise student voice in my classroom at a time when their voice is being lost to text messaging and digital communication. These tools did not exist when I was in school, but the student in me sure wishes they had. 

When the statement, "this is how we've always done it" is made, I now respond with, "Yes, but is it what's best for kids?" Sometimes the answer is yes. However, for a long time, I let fear drive my decisions - I did what was comfortable. I did not concisely do this. This makes sense if you think about it. I have the honor and privilege of working with people's most prized possessions - their children. The stakes are high, and failure is scary. But to not grow because I am scared, to not take a chance and throw out a lesson plan and replace it with new resources and technology, to not collaborate with other teachers and take a risk with my teaching style - that is educational malpractice. As one of my favorite coaches used to say, I was playing not to lose instead of playing to win. That's no way to play the game, and that's no way to teach a class.

So, I remind myself, to be open to change. I have no idea what each year of teaching will hold for me because every year my students needs are different. Every year my resources change. What I do know is that I must always be able to answer the question, "Is this what's best for kids" with a solid, unwavering, "YES," no matter how uncomfortable that makes me feel. Be open - let your heart be open to a brand new year full of brand new opportunities. 

So There's This Kid...

Every year, my husband can count on me coming home from work at least one time throughout the year and starting a conversation by saying, "So there's this kid at school," and ending it with a comment like: "He needs a new pair of shoes," or "She needs a new backpack," and sometimes even, "I told (insert student's name here) that we have a futon if s/he needs a safe place to sleep tonight." My husband has always been supportive of these requests. But you see, last year my request was a little different. There was "this kid", and he needed a home - a family - and for some crazy reason, I thought our family might just be the right one. 

"This kid" joined my Honors Freshman English class a few weeks into the school year after being placed in foster care. He was a smart, polite, hard working young man. Everyday he was one of the last kids out of the classroom. He always said thank you and told me to have a good day. I didn't know what it was about him, but something deep down told me that he had a future ahead of him IF he had the right adults in his life.  A year ago, on the last day of school, I gave "this kid" my school business card with my phone number on it. I told him to call me and keep me updated on his summer and his status in foster care. 

On July 4th, 2016, he called me. Now this may not seem like a big deal, but I was headed to the lake, in a car loaded with presents, cake, and food for my youngest son, our firecracker baby who was turning three. As I answered the phone, I was greeted by a familiar voice - it was "this kid" who went on to tell me about his summer, to apologize for not getting in touch with me sooner, and to tell me that his mom had terminated her rights as a parent. Back. The. Truck. Up. Here I was, on the phone with a fifteen-year-old boy who was now an orphan. It nearly knocked the wind out of me. It took everything that I had not to turn around and drive back to town to go get him. I was in car full of presents for my son, and on the phone was a boy whose mom walked away from him. I can't imagine how scary it was for him to have a future of so many unknowns.

From that day forth, my husband and I researched what it would take to become foster-parents. We called and added our names to his list of people. We were told that he was in permanent care. Surprisingly, we were a little heart-broken. And then, the day before I went back to work last August, we got a call about "this kid" - were we still interested in helping him? Ten days later, "this kid" was safe and under our roof and the journey began. We talked to family and friends. We attended TIPS-MAPPS classes. We fixed our home so that it could be approved by DCF. We re-certified our CPR/First Aid trainings. We filled out form after form. Nearly six months later, we received our permanent foster-care license. It is all a little foggy now, but we were supported every step of the way from our workers at St. Francis. We accomplished in six months what most families accomplish in over a year. We were tired to our bones, but he was worth it. So there's "this kid" who used to call me Mrs. Neill, but now it's just mom.

Nothing about this really made sense at the time. We had two little boys. We always thought we'd do this after they were grown. We were very involved with our jobs, community, and church. We were busy. But we had a home. We had the income to do it. We had an extra bedroom. We had knowledge about working with kids. We had love to give. It wasn't perfect, and it hasn't always been easy; however, I guarantee that we have given "this kid" -- who will someday be "our kid" with our last name -- a safe place to call home.

So yeah, there's "this kid", and he calls us mom and dad. We get to cheer him on in cross country and track. We get to check his grades and his phone. We get to teach him how to drive. We get to love him as our own. Our two youngest sons have a built-in big brother. I'd say we are all pretty lucky to have found each other.

Never look past "that kid" in your classroom.  You may end up being more than just a teacher to him/her. Someday, "that kid" could become "your kid." For us, that happened on July 4th, 2016, and we are so thankful.

***Update: at 9:55 on July 3rd 2017, we received a call that we were officially approved in the Best Interest Staffing meeting to adopt our son. Yep, God's timing is perfect.  Always.
***In January 2018, our family became an official family of FIVE!

______

There are so many ways that educators can help children in foster care, and the need is there. Please call your local agency to inquire if you have questions about how to help "that kid" in your class. If you aren't an educator, but you have the means to help I'd also encourage you to do so. The need for good foster homes is at an all-time high. This doesn't necessarily mean that you have to open your home to foster a child - but going the extra mile for that child could make all the difference in the world. Options such as CASA, respite care, and CarePortals are out there, and every bit helps.  (Feel free to get in touch with me via Twitter @SJNeill13).

My Non-Negotiables

I buttoned up my suit coat, adjusted my collar, and walked in to teach my first class. It was January 2003 - Ms. South had arrived. By the time the day was over, I had sweat through my shirt and jacket, and I had some of the worst foot cramps I have ever experienced (because somehow I thought that the higher the heels, the more authority I would have over my students. Ha! Isn't that cute?). I was told to set boundaries - keep students in clean rows and keep my desk at the center of attention. I was advised by many veteran educators to start "mean" (I am paraphrasing here) - not to smile too soon in the semester, to be firm with my expectations because it was important to keep things black and white. When it came to my classroom, it was "my way or the highway". I was told that teaching would get easier. I was told to keep my lesson plans in a binder so that I didn't have to reinvent the wheel each year. I believed that a quiet classroom meant that I was doing my job to maintain structure and order. I thought I knew it all. So, I did what I knew, and boy was I ever wrong.

Looking back, it is easy for me to see that Ms. South was scared of her students - scared that she would not teach them well enough, scared that they would hate her class, scared to love them. Ms. South wanted there to be no question as to who was in charge - hence the high heels. Ms. South had a classroom that was designed around her needs - not the needs of her students (I actually remember telling them that certain parts of the room were off-limits). Quite frankly, if Ms. South was going to make it in education - her beliefs and opinions towards school had to change.**

Over the past several years, my teaching beliefs and classroom management have gone through a transformation. I have thrown out my lesson binders. I have given up my teaching desk. I have created a flexible seating classroom that is oftentimes LOUD because students are collaborating and engaged. I do do these things not because they are trends but because I am not the same teacher I was 15 years ago. That makes me proud. If Mrs. Neill met Ms. South in the hallway today, the first thing I would do is march down to the office and ask my principal to be her mentor. If I could go back, I would tell myself to follow my heart and do what is best for kids rather than what is convenient for me. When teachers put kids in the center of the learning, that's when the magic happens. As a young teacher, I did the best I could with what I knew, but thank goodness I never quit learning. I never quit looking for a better way to reach kids and teach the content they need to be successful in life.

So where does this leave me? There are some non-negotiables that define what takes place in my classroom.  It is important that I write them out, but also important that I am willing to edit and change my list as needed - for my school, for my students, and for my own personal learning. I challenge you to think about your Top 5 Non-Negotiables.

1. I will continue being a positive, connected educator who tweets and blogs about her students, philosophies, and colleagues. This is not bragging about what I do - this is a shift in my beliefs that in order to be the best teacher I can be, I must be connected to the best teachers I can find - be it in my hallway, building, district, or online. I will never apologize for sharing my classroom stories or sharing new ideas that may connect me to other like-minded educators.

2. I will never tell a class to shut up or cuss/ degrade/ berate them - NEVER. There is enough negativity and anger outside of the four walls of my classroom - ain't nobody got time for that in room 209. 'Nuff said.

3. I will never create work for students to complete so that I can grade. Not doing it - simple as that. Our time is too short for me to sit and grade, while my class works compliantly on the next task. I may not be the timeliest of graders, but I think you would find a student hard-pressed to say that we aren't working together from bell to bell. Man, those classes go by so quickly. (And that's the goal!)

4. I will continue to develop my love for life-long reading. True story - making time to read has never been a strength of mine, but now I see how important my role is in my students' reading lives. My students and I are more similar than different in this area, but we are improving one book at a time. Reading time is a priority.

5. I will learn and laugh alongside my students. Newsflash: students are smart, and extremely funny. And call me crazy, but it seems the more we laugh, the more we learn. What a crazy correlation!

So I challenge you - what are your Top 5 Non-Negotiables? Take some time to think about it, chew it around, but then act. Make yourself a note, blog about them, tweet them out, discuss them with your colleagues as you start the year - but most importantly, STICK TO 'EM! (And if the new teacher-you is completely different than the old teacher-you, enjoy the ride because it gets better every year!)

**I might add that we tend to be our own harshest critics, which is probably true in this blog post; however, I cannot imagine what my teaching career would have been like if I had continued teaching the same way every year. Oh wait, yeah I can...I'd no longer be a teacher.

They're Going to Take Care of Us Someday, You Know?

Fourteen years ago, my aunt was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. She fought bravely and fiercely, but lost her battle with cancer about 8 months later. Watching her go through this silent disease, watching her body weaken, watching her suffer through treatments has never really left me. It has always been a fear of mine that ovarian cancer would be a future diagnosis for me; after all, it is known as the cancer that whispers. This spring, as I had a yearly appointment with my OBGYN, she asked me if I had ever considered a hysterectomy. She told me that research is now showing that ovarian cancer is 80% genetic. Knowing that our family was complete and we planned on having no more babies, my husband and I began making arrangements for this next step. I read the research provided by my doctor as well as information that I found online. I made separate appointments with my doctor to talk about what to expect, the procedure itself, hormone replacement, and even my fears of being old enough to make such an important decision. Once we decided this was in my best interest (100% elimination of reproductive cancers and a 50% deduction in my risk for future breast cancer), we scheduled a date: May 31st.

The procedure itself went as well as could be expected. My pre-op nurses, my doctor, and my recovery nurses were amazing. But you see, there is one caregiver who stands out to me, and that is my CNA, Lizzy. As I was coming off of my anesthesia, I got sick a few times. My bladder also didn't want to wake up, so using the bathroom was not an easy chore. But my aide, Lizzy, never complained about cleaning up after me once I had gotten sick to my stomach, holding my gown shut, unhooking my machines, bringing me ice chips, or helping me get up from the toilet. Her concern the entire time was about me, my comfort level, and keeping me safe. To me, it seemed she was a seasoned veteran at her job, and it was not until the grogginess fully wore off that I realized she had graduated from my high school a few years ago. I was surprised at how comfortable I was with her taking care of me. As she helped me to the bathroom, I apologized for mooning her as she closed my gown. As she helped me adjust my heating pad, we discussed how my getting a belly button ring at nineteen really probably wasn't the smartest thing I had ever done (my parents were right - imagine that!). She was my nurse's aide - no longer a student or a kid in the hallway; I was her patient - no longer a teacher at that moment in time.  I was amazed at how quickly that transition occurred.

It made me think about how often I hear people say in regards to education funding, "They're going to take care of us someday, you know?" Naively I always thought of my parents as they are reaching retirement; not once did I apply that to myself. I am so thankful that this student had such an amazing education. I am so thankful that she was able to take care of me at a time that I could not take care of myself. This experience is just another reason why teachers do what we do each day. I truly believe these kids can change the world - be it through a public stance like politics or non-profit organizations, or privately through helping a woman in her hospital room who had just gone through major surgery. Lizzy made a difference in my recovery - my world became her world for a 12 hour shift, and I am so grateful for her. As educators, we must continue to develop curriculum and learning environments that will foster this type of success for students once they leave the four walls of our schools. They deserve it, and so do we.

And now - six more weeks of taking it easy. Good thing I've got some good books lined up to read...

Why I Tweet

"I bet you're going to tweet that out!"

"Umm, yeah, I am."

Education is changing.  It is changing at a pace that is exciting and invigorating.  As an educator, however, that can sometimes be scary - especially if you were trained to teach in the No Child Left Behind era, like I was, when testing was the only measured outcome.  About a year ago, I had the opportunity to learn about the importance of telling my story - controlling the narrative that comes out of my classroom. It was something that I grabbed onto with all of my might.  But you see, I don't know that I always do a good job of explaining what I am doing and why I am doing it.

So why do I tweet so much?  That's a good question.  Maybe I should start with why I don't do it.

I don't tweet to brag.
I don't tweet to make others feel bad.
I don't tweet to say that my class is better than another.

So why do I tweet? Well, there are several reasons.

1. I want to share the story coming out of my classroom. You see, I worked with one of the best English teachers I know for over ten years before her retirement. She got results. The kids loved her. But I cannot tell you how she taught.  I cannot tell you how she hooked those students from day one and got them to do their best. I do have her lesson plans, but they are a labyrinth of notes that I have yet to figure out. I taught next to her for 10 years and I have no idea how her classroom worked.

I had a philosophical change over a year ago that begins with telling my story. I am so proud of the work that my students do each day. I am proud of the innovative ideas that we are trying, and many of those ideas are not difficult to try. They do, however, take courage - so if by my sharing what we do on Twitter, another teacher is courageous enough to try it - then mission accomplished. My classroom is not a traditional classroom. We have moved away from worksheets, quizzes, and tests as our main focus. Those things still exist, but they are not our focus. Student ownership of learning is the focus. I am proud of this shift. I am going to share it.

2. I believe in being a connected educator. I don't work well in isolation. I am a people person. I need people. I need to laugh with people. I need to learn from people. I spent the first 10 years of my teaching career, basically isolated in my classroom. It was lonely.  Extremely lonely. I need people, and Twitter makes people available 24/7 - for support and ideas. It breaks down building and district walls. There are educators across the state who I meet at conferences for the first time, but they are not strangers - they are colleagues whom I have just never met in person. They live in Ness City, Hesston, Ellinwood, Frontenac just to name a few.  They make me a better educator because they push me to innovate, ask for me to share what I have learned, and encourage me when things don't work as planned.

3. I have found numerous ideas from my PLN. Until I learned about action research while working on my master's degree, I was comfortable teaching the way I had been taught. While that may have been easiest for me, it was not what was best for kids. I believe with all of my heart that students should not be the ones uncomfortable in my classroom - this was not an easy realization for me to accept.  From my PLN I have learned about #Booksnaps and #Coversnaps. I have learned about "Roll Dice and Black-out Poetry". I have seen flexible seating implemented in many ways - giving me the courage to try it in my own classroom.  I was able to Skype with another class for the first time to share my experience as a foster mom. I did none of these things prior to becoming a connected educator on Twitter.

4. It's how my department shares ideas. I am fortunate to work with a very technologically connected department, school, and district. My department decided last summer that we should create classroom hashtags - #BHSneill, #BHSkohls, #BHSfroese, and #BHSneighbor. This is one way we share what is going on in our rooms.  By sharing these ideas, we follow up with conversations on Voxer, before and after school, or during lunch. Rarely will you find us alone in our rooms - we are planning, collaborating, researching. If you look up "nerds" in the dictionary - we'd probably be listed in the definition. By sharing our ideas on Twitter we are modeling life-long learning for our students.  It is real-time, student-driven learning, and it is exciting.

Recently my department has changed our junior and senior year curriculum.  We polled our students to see where their interests were, and we created high-interest ELA classes to give students more choice in the literature they are studying and the writing they are doing.  We use the hashtag #BHSela to retweet articles, add videos, and share ideas. By doing so, we are creating an online log of ideas to go back to when we need to brainstorm new activities.

5. I want to be able to give students shout-outs (S/O) when they do good work. So I may be a bit biased, but my students are pretty amazing. Many of them have gone too long without any recognition for the work they do each day.  We celebrate the milestones, but sometimes the steps along the way need recognition, too! As we work to change our mindset, it also allows me to highlight the shifts in thinking that I see happening in them - from becoming students to embracing what it means to be a true learner. 

It also allows me to give shout-outs for extra curricular activities, to "like" or "favorite" a quote or idea, or to tag them in an inspirational quote or question.  Earlier this week, I tagged 10 students and asked them what they were reading this summer.  It is a way to stay connected after their year with me is over.

6. It's fun. I am a positive person. I believe that energy creates "like" energy. I have started to turn away from Facebook because I cannot control the political opinions and negativity that seems to fester there. I post on Facebook for my family and to catalog pictures of my kids, but that is about it. Twitter, on the other hand, is always positive. I follow people on Twitter who have a "like" mindset, who are professional educators - breaking the stereotype of the June/July/August teacher. I want to be surrounded by people who are constantly looking for ways to improve education - being solution oriented rather than just complaining about issues like budget cuts. We tweet jokes, GIFs, and Bitmojis to each other (they are my favorite)! It is not uncommon for an author that we are studying to "like" one of our tweets or reply back - they become real people, not just some name on a piece of paper. So yeah, it's fun. It makes me smile. It feels good.

I can see how an educator, who is not connected on Twitter, might view this online interaction differently. Yes, it is "another" thing to do in a day that is already jam-packed. I can see how it might appear that we are only celebrating those educators who have drank the Twitter Kool-aid. But they allow us to celebrate them. By posting what is happening in your classroom, you are inviting in a world who wants to cheer you on, to push you out of your comfort zone, to learn from you. If you aren't sharing, we can't do that; it's as simple as that. There are many more reasons why I tweet, but I want to make it clear that this is not about just about Twitter.  As my colleague Jason Kohls (check out his blog here - he's got some pretty neat ideas) said in a conversation on Voxer this morning, "It is not about Twitter. It is about being connected with our students and our colleagues/PLN. Learning, growing, and celebrating together."  We want to celebrate each other. We want to celebrate you - Twitter just happens to be one way to do that.

I'm Not Ready

On Monday, my sophomores will turn in their research papers.  We have been working on this papers for about 4 weeks now.  This past Friday I said to my students, "If you have used class time wisely, and have met our due dates up to this point, you should be sitting pretty." One of my big, tough, Ferdinand-the-Bull students replied, "Well I FEEL pretty" - and laughter followed. It was at this time that I thought to myself, "I'm not ready."

*I'm not ready to be done with 1st hour's random outbursts of music and moments of honesty. I can always count on a good start to the day with this bunch. We are a class of 13 girls and ONE very, very brave boy. 

*I am not ready to for the conversations to end after 2nd hour with a few students who always stick around a minute or two after the bell. These small conversations mean so much on days when I am questioning my effectiveness as a teacher.

*I'm not ready for silence that will follow the passionate and opinionated comments of my 4th hour - no doubt these kids will move mountains. Creativity flows from them; it is in the air they breathe.

*I'm not ready for my laid-back, good ol' boy and girl 5th hour to end - what a little family we have become. Singing to Bon Jovi, the Beatles, and Lynard Skynard has become a norm. Respecting our very different opinions and truly learning from each other is what makes me most proud.

*I'm not ready for my 6th hour's variety of learning styles to move on to junior year. These kiddos have learned to take risks in their reading and writing - seeking out my help on an individual basis. They are working, always working, to get better each day.

*I'm not ready for my dynamic, ornery, and energetic 7th hour to stand by the door and wait for that last bell to ring. They keep my on my toes, and at the end of the day I wouldn't have it any other way.

Don't get me wrong. I am tired. My brain hurts. My classroom is a mess. My house is even messier. I have a pile of laundry 3 feet tall. My kids have eaten PB&J more times that I can count in the last few weeks. Not to mention I am not sure the last time my husband and I went on a date. But I am not ready to be done with these kids. Have I taught them enough about English and life? Are they readers? Are they becoming learners instead of students? Do they know how much I care about them? Have I told them they are important? I have seven days left. S.E.V.E.N. - quite frankly, it's not enough.

I am excited to see what lies ahead for them.  Such talent, such wisdom, such kindness. I am excited to see what students walk through my door next year, but for now, I will hold on to these seven days with all of my might because I'm not ready.

What Lesson Should Students Learn?

This week my Honors Freshman English students completed their research papers, and they were to submit them online at 8:15 a.m. on Tuesday morning.  While I am ecstatic that 100% of my papers were turned in on Tuesday, nearly 30% of those papers were considered late.

"Mrs. Neill, I can't find one of my note cards."

"Mrs. Neill, I closed my computer before my paper uploaded, so it didn't upload on time, but I promise I didn't make any changes."

"Mrs. Neill I printed my paper instead of turning it in online, is it still late?"

"Mrs. Neill, I only had to fix my title, and I forgot to resubmit my paper."

True statements from some really great kids that tugged at my heart strings, but the fact of the matter was that the papers WERE late.  What a horrible feeling for them, but they had to own it.  They had to know what that felt like.  It is through failure and missed opportunities that we truly learn - we remember that bitter taste in our mouths.  But you see, this is where my struggle began.  We had worked on these research papers for 6 weeks.  It was as much a learning process as it was a paper, and I hated the fact that students would be penalized 10% for turning in a paper late, even if I could go in and prove that they did not make any changes to their work after the 8:15 a.m. deadline.  

The best collaboration happens in the hallway, so I walked down to talk to Mrs. Moler, one of our awesome science teachers, and asked her opinion.  I told her about the late papers, but then I proceeded to tell her about my idea.  I wanted them to feel that "failure" for a day, but I wanted them to have the opportunity to reflect and earn the credit back.  I wanted them to answer two questions:

What thoughts or emotions did you feel once you realized that your paper was late?  Why?  Please explain two thoughts or emotions in your response?

What do you currently do to remember when tasks need to be completed? Is there anything you would do differently? Explain.

Mrs. Moler agreed with my idea, but then she added one more thought that turned into this question:

List three instances, outside of school assignments, when firm deadlines will result in negative outcomes.  Talk to other teachers or your parents if you are struggling to think of examples.  What would you possibly miss out on if this happens in the future?

What is it that I want my students to learn? I want them to know my room is a safe place to fail or make mistakes, but with failure and mistakes comes consequences. As a result, those three questions are due in an essay by Monday. My students will think about their actions, and they will most likely not turn in late projects again. I hope they will look back at this (while they are not happy about it now), and realize that this was much more beneficial to them than taking a 10% deduction for their papers being 3 minutes late. There will come a point in time when they realize that late means late, and that will result in a loss of an opportunity. But you've got to know what failure tastes like to know the sweetness of success. However, success may have to come with a little more work.

The lesson in all of this will be bigger for some of them than they can process right now, but this is the lesson that I want them to learn. What does an arbitrary 10% off teach them? I am interested to see what they write about, but must of all, I am glad they are learning.

It Takes a Village

This fall, my husband I decided to become foster parents (definitely a decision that deserves its own blog post). Anyone who has gone through this process knows that there are a lot of hoops to jump through to make sure that your home is ready for a foster child. One of those hoops is called the TIPS-MAPPS class.  It is a 10-week, 30-hour class in which prospective foster parents are asked to learn more about how trauma affects brain development and decision making. It also prompts future foster parents to discuss if the decision to foster a child is in the best interests of their families and if they are willing to do what is best for a child to help reintegrate him into his original family or prepare to be adopted. This is definitely not a decision to be entered into lightly - it is life changing for all involved. Most people have heard and used the phrase, "It takes a village to raise kids" - but do we truly respect it?

This weekend, as I was skimming through Facebook, I came across this post (I do not know if it is true or if it just fake news. Based on my research, the due to lack of specific names or places, or an original post site, I would put money on the fact that it is a propaganda piece meant to divide those who read it - in which case it succeeded):

AND IT MADE ME SO MAD!

This made me mad because it's making a division between the "haves and have-nots"; this made me mad because teachers are sharing and "liking" it. This supports a notion that only children who act a certain way deserve to be educated. There is nothing about this that says, "Hey parents, let's work together to guarantee your child's future success."  This letter says, "It's all your fault." Not sure about you, but as a parent, that doesn't make me want to partner up and work together with a school.

If there is one thing I have learned during this foster care journey, it is not to place judgement or blame. I know that my foster son's mom loves him. I know that she did her best to teach my son manners and rules. I know that she did the best that she knew how to do as a mom with four young kids and very little education. I know that her intentions were always in the right place. I also know that she was just trying to survive each day and keep her kids safe. I know that in doing so her children were sometimes placed in sketchy situations because she could not afford daycare during the day and had to work 2nd shift to make ends meet. I know that she never meant for him to be in situations where he got hurt. But you see, this is where I can step outside of the box and really analyze my feelings.  She did the best she knew to do with the knowledge that she had. She is not a bad person. She did, however, make bad choices - because she didn't know any different and she did not have the resources to be successful. 

There is a barrier between families who struggle economically and the schools their children attend - that barrier is built out of fear and judgement. I am not condoning the abuse that many children face. I am not saying it is okay for parents to abandon or neglect their children. I am not saying any of those things. What I am saying is that the finger-pointing needs to stop. People do the best they can with what they know - and no one knows more about children than teachers.

Imagine the difference this letter could have if it read:

Dear Parents, 

We are here for you. We are here to help educate your student BOTH socially and academically. We know that you are trying to teach your kids to use kind words, be truthful, demonstrate manners, and show respect for others. We are not here to judge you, but we would like to help you. We have spent years reading and researching techniques about behavior and manners. We have resources to share. We would like to help you if we can - simple as that.

I am not a perfect parent. My birth son sometimes wears dirty jeans to school without me realizing it. My birth son lied to his teacher even though we stress the importance of telling the truth. My birth son did not have his homework done on time the other night because we were too busy to get to it. And my birth son's mom is a teacher. I am a teacher, and I struggle, too! I am glad that his teacher is part of my team, my village. I am thankful that she knows how important my son is to me. If we hope to change the feelings towards education - we have to start changing the way we treat each other. We have to take the barrier away between parents and teachers. This is not a "them vs. me" situation. A chid's parent is my strongest teammate because it takes a village - which is why this rhetoric must stop. 

How Do You Learn In a Room Like That?

As a new teacher, I always felt a need to make sure my students knew I was the teacher. It's almost like a drew an invisible line in my classroom, and I remember telling students that my chair and desk were off limits. What I didn't realize is that by saying those things, I was inadvertantly making myself off limits to some of them.

In the last month, with input from my students, I have transformed my classroom into a flexible seating classroom.  In lieu of desks, we now have futons, video chairs, lawn chairs, exercise balls, and floor chairs. I might also add that I teach high school, and yes, my kiddos were super excited about the exercise balls the first day they were in class. One of my sophomore boys walked into the room, and he asked, "What is this glorious awesomeness I see? Do we get to sit on those!?"  Gosh, it is crazy to me that a $7 exercise ball can bring this kind of joy to a student.

(Edit: my room really isn't as big as it looks; I had to use panoramic view to get it all in. I might add that getting rid of desks really opened up room.) 

Prior to this leap, I was a 50/50 flexible seating classroom; I had comfy seats that lined the back of the room. I kept the 24 desks in rows for "instructional" time, and once it was time for individual or group work, students moved to more comfortable seating. Before deciding to jump ALL IN with flexible seating, I polled my students.  I asked them which type of seating they preferred.  I wanted their opinions before I changed seating options.

I also asked them how flexible seating would help them learn. A few of their responses were:

The desks and tables are a designated sign of a rigid classroom and portrays the classroom as a place of frustration and anxiety, but with a more free, flexible seating arrangement, students could shed this stereotype. In a flexible seating classrooms students would feel less obliged to follow structured class and would be able to learn more at their pace. (I promise I did not revise this answer - wowza loving the thinking this student showed!)

It would help us feel more comfortable to talk and have discussions. (Check!)

I'm a person who likes to move or fidget and the chairs would let me move/fidget around while doing my work. (You know this student; this is an easy way to help him/her out!)

I think I'd learn just as easy as I do with a desk; it probably wouldn't effect me much. (Love the honesty here!)

Finally, I asked how it would improve the classroom environment. They responded by saying:

I'm not a student who regularly uses flexible seating because I'm more comfortable at a desk, but I think flexible seating opens up the room and doesn't make it seem crowded.

Even though I don't use them I think it helps the rest of my classmates learn better. (Again, loving these honest opinions!)

It makes it more comfortable, and I focus better when I am comfortable.

It gives a more relaxed feel to the classroom that helps us to feel at home. (And for some kids, school is the most relaxed/safest place they are all day!)

It makes the classroom feel more friendly and inviting. (WELCOME! Now let's learn!)

In order for this to work, the #1 aspect of a classroom that had to be established is a respect for learning.  My students know that it is my job to help them become life-long readers and writers.  They know it is their job to take ownership of their learning and optimize their time in class as much as possible. If those expectations aren't clear, I could see how this type of seating might cause some issues.

I can say, without hesitation, that flexible seating has single-handedly changed the environment in my classroom. Kids are happy to walk in my room. They are comfortable throughout class. They have the right to move to a new seat if they feel sleepy after lunch or if a classmate is bothering them. They know that I will move them (or move to them) if they choose a spot that is not in their best interests for learning.

So, a few questions have also come up along the way, let me take a minute to address them.

1. How do you teach? How do they take notes? Can they all see the board?

We are fortunate to be a 1:1 school, so every student has his/ her own laptop.  I teach the same way I always have, but the delivery method comes through their computer screens instead of a projector.  If they have room in their laps for a computer, then that is all we need. I might also add, that for my students with visual impairments, this takes away the "differences" they feel each day because they do not have to sit at the front of the room to see the board - their board is right in front of them.  And I do have students who tell me, I learn better by the door or I prefer to sit by myself until we need to do group work.  The kids are honest.  Just ask them what they need.

2. What do you do about tests/ quizzes?

I will be honest, I am starting to move away from a class that uses 100% traditional tests and quizzes and instead we use project based learning or informal assessment so that I can judge the comprehension in my class and determine which direction to take the lesson. There are times, however, when traditional tests are used.  I bought 30 clip boards for our paper/pencil tests and quizzes.  The kids like it.  If the quiz is online, I simply ask them to turn so that I can see their computer screens.  Finally, I ask them to spread out.  That means that some kids move to the floor, some kids move their chairs, and only 2 kids can sit on the ends of the futons.  We brainstorm solutions to these problems together.

3. How do you keep everyone involved in the conversation and keep the same level of discussion?

It's simple - I don't, and I never have.  In a classroom with desks and rows, I sometimes struggled to get the conversation started (insert cricket sounds); oftentimes, I had 1-2 individuals who refused, no matter what I tried, to talk.  So now, we do a lot of pair-and-share discussion, and then they share it out.  If I feel like a student is struggling or doesn't want to talk to his/her classmate, then it is much easier for me to get to where that student is and then I get to be the partner.  The change in discussion and comments from my students has amazed me.  On Friday, I had students asking questions like: "What is a better way to say the word 'but'?" and "Should I join this sentence with a semi-colon or a comma/Fanboys" and even "I think this first clause sounds weird, can you help me?"  I'll take those conversations over silence any day.

It's not perfect.  Some days it's messy.  Some days my kiddos don't put their chairs or pillows back.  But those some days are few and far between.  What a beautiful mess I'm in - ever changing, constantly moving, but always learning. So the next time a student asks me to sit in my teacher chair, the answer is YES!