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!

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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.