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.