Return of the Jedi English Teacher

As a creative person, I often find myself in ruts of epic proportions. Whether it's with my painting, or being a teacher, or even the drive to redesign my daily routines, this is an affliction I find quite frustrating. New ideas are like candy to me, and I gobble up the chance to conjure up novel activities for my students like they are Willy Wonka's everlasting gobstoppers. Certain failures leave me devastated, and I have become aware of just how harmful this has been to me and those around me. But, just as quickly as the excitement enters my body, it leaves, and I find myself with a brilliant project unfinished. Take, for example, this blog. 

Without dwelling on the obvious, I'll just say this- I'm back. For now. Until the next gobstopper beckons from a darkened, smarmy streetcorner, tempting me to leave. Again.

My absence has been due to a combination of burn-out, soul searching, questioning, the bad habit of over-filling my plate, and a plethora of random and unexpected samples of human experience. Nevertheless, crises of conscience leave me with one thing for which I am eternally grateful- life lessons. I have learned that each crisis, each peak and valley along this journey, offers me the chance to hear the universe signalling that it's time to step back and listen. And listen I have. It's given me the chance to find the things for which I am grateful, and rediscover my purpose in life. My purpose for being a teacher, an artist, and an amateur internet blogger with an audience of 1 (or maybe 2). I am a teacher because I believe in kids, in each of their unique places in this world, and the potential they have to grow into themselves despite the obstacles they face. I am an artist because it fills my heart and soul with color and happiness. I let my heart get weighed down when I take on other people's baggage, and worse, I let the weight of that baggage block my attention from these things that feed my life, and I let it interfere with my ability to be whole and good, and the best I can be in every aspect of my life- as a person, a teacher, a daughter, sister, friend, as an aunt, and as an artist. 

So, I have put myself on notice. For this next chapter, I am committed to only looking forward, and only reflecting on the past in ways that allow me to grow and manifest my own potential. I am not focused on others except in ways that serve the peace in my own life, and in ways that allow me to embrace the differences and the potential for compassion for all living things. No drama or judgement. Hurt happens, and it doesn't happen to defeat us, but to make us appreciate the ecstasy in every day experience. 

Putting positive out there means sharing lots of stuff, and namely, as the mission of this inconsistent and shotty blog states, sharing the good stuff that happens in my classroom. My goal- to share something unique, or ordinary, that was good for students once each week until June. This week, I'm sharing my own self-awareness, but I have lots more to share. Soon. 

Examples- Down with the Bell Curve

Here are some examples of the Senior English projects I blogged about yesterday.



Eddy- The Nymph's Reply to the Shepard, Sir Walter Raleigh



Jehovani- How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count the Ways, Elizabeth Barret Browning



Josh- When You Are Old, William Butler Yeats



Darel, Damir, Isaac- Beowulf

When Things Get Out of Control

I may be a minority in this, but I don't believe in the myth of the bell curve. According to current best practicesm including RtI (Response to Intervention) and PBS (Positive Behavior System) both of which I subscribe to, and participate as part of our campus leadership team in implementing, modern education systems must be set up for all students to succeed, but without diluting quality of delivery of instruction or student products. Which is why I made the decision to have my semester midterm and final exams be projects, and not paper/pencil exams. I want kids to show me what they do know, learn to meet a set standard of expectations, and showcase their best work. In my opinion, it is better for a student to show me, through modern media, how they holistically understand Macbeth and therefore Shakespeare's work, for example, rather than show me that they can memorize in which scene Macbeth has his best friend assassinated.

So, imagine my confusion when engaged in a conversation with a colleague, but not confusion in a bad way, like the conversation was unpleasant at all, just confused, as in, "What the heck am I doing? OMG, I'm a horrible teacher!"

Colleague: Ugh, almost half of my kids failed my final. How did yours go?
Me: Oh no, how frustrating! Mine were great, a lot of A's, a lot of B's, a few C's. I was thrilled with how they turned out.
Colleague: How did you manage that? Oh, you don't have a district mandated final, do you.
Me: Well, no, thank God. My kids do a project.
Colleague: Oh, that's great! But how do you justify giving them all A's and B's? I mean, doesn't anyone challenge your grades? What about the whole bell curve and everything?
Me: (...silence...)

I really, truly didn't know what to say. I mean, colleague is the sweetest person, great colleague, super person, and there was no hidden backhanded commenting here, the tone was very friendly and honest. But what ABOUT the bell curve. How can I justify that most of my seniors, who are going out into the world in just a few short months, got A's and B's on their final projects? This gave me much to chew on this long weekend.

The answer became clear yesterday as I ventured out to my parent's house for some much needed quality time with them. The normally 30 minute drive became a grueling hour long drive, so I had some time to think when I wasn't belting out Jason Mraz's Sunshine Song or Melissa Ethridge's part of her and Bruce Springsteen's version of Thunder Road. Nevertheless, clear it was- I started to think like an employer. The truth is, if I give a paper pencil test, let's say with a passage from Beowulf, and ask questions about the literary elements used, or the concept of oral storytelling, then my student friend who is still struggling with English a little bit, might get a question or two wrong because he didn't read the question correctly, or he missed an idiomatic phrase in the passage. Therefore, I may or may not get a clear picture of what he does or does not know. As an employer, the factiods of Shakespearean literature may not come in handy. But, having someone on my team who can look at the perameters and expectations, come up with a plan, and execute it successfully, is a slam dunk.

On the flip side, with the project I assigned, which covered all of the state standards, and asked students to identify one literary element in the text they chose and use it to portray the text using modern media (movies, comic strips, fake facebook pages, etc), my friend did a terrific rendition of Beowulf, turning it into a kung fu styled comic strip. Likewise with my friend who rewrote Macbeth as "Gangsta-Mac: Greed in tha 'Hood," directing and editing the first act in Spanglish with English subtitles. Or my friend who re-wrote "How Do I Love Thee, Let me Count the Ways" as a rap video. You get the picture. My advice to teachers working with English Language Learners, or students with an IEP, tapping into their multiple intelligences and learning styles is a magical thing. So I DID do the right thing. My kids succeeded, and it was no easy task for them. Their presentations were amazing, brought me to tears, but then again, these kids never cease to amaze me.

Operation Everybody Graduates- Part II

The first half of the year is winding down, students are diligently preparing for final exams and senior projects, and teachers are desperately tying up loose ends. What does this mean for our seniors? Today, the class of 2011 had their senior assembly to learn about ordering their caps and gowns, and graduation announcements. It was what one might call an a-ha moment, as in, "A-ha! This year really is flying by, this is all real, I am going to graduate soon!" Glancing around the MPR, I first noticed, sadly, most seniors with the deer-in-headlights look on their faces. As the assembly progressed, I was overjoyed to see most of those deer-in-headlights faces turn into faces of accomplishment, the expression we get when we realize a milestone is about to be reached. But the road ahead is going to be a tough one to navigate. Operation Everybody Graduates is about to get loud.

Here is the (bare minimum) checklist we are covering for each and every student:
FCAT level 3 or higher, or a concordant score on the ACT or SAT
26 credits
1.9 GPA (We try to aim for 2.0, to round it out)

This is going to be a semester filled with endless goals and checkpoints, geared towards helping each student make it to the stage on June 3rd. Today was just the beginning.

I will be presenting at FETC on February 3rd about using free resources to build bridges for ELL students. I guarantee you will walk away with some good ideas, blogging, podcasting, photostory, prezi, and using all of these, and more resources to differentiate and individualize instruction. More details to come!

Long Hiatus- Operation Everybody Graduates

Greetings cyberspace. It's been some time since I posted last. I'd like to list all of the excuses I have for forgetting my commitment to sharing part of my journey to being a better educator, but they are trivial. Time, motivation, personal crises aside, I have missed writing about what is near and dear to my heart- making public education into what all of our kids deserve. One of the things that has taken up much of my time lately is kinda silly- I've been changing my diet drastically. I am transitioning to being a vegan, and I've been researching a lot of vegan recipes and raw vegan meals. Of course, my commitment to the earth and all its inhabitants remains strong, and this for me is another step towards being a better steward of the earth. Now I say I am "transitioning" for a few reasons. First and foremost- if someone were to put a slice of cheEditese pizza in front of me I'd certainly oblige. I was raised to be gracious for all generosity that is offered, but mostly for food. To say 'no' to food is outrageously rude-- Italians are funny that way. I also call my journey a transition because I have slowly transitioned animal products out of my diet. The toughest was cow's milk, because I drank it twice a day. But, I have discovered two incredible substitutes- coconut milk and almond milk. Both are yummy straight up, but also make a nice bowl of fruit and granola, are a good addition to your coffee or tea, and make a phenomenal smoothie. Those are my new obsession- smoothies. Every day for breakfast, I have a super green smoothie- it powers my mind and body for the day. I look at this as part of being the best human I can on all fronts- professionally, personally, I am more level headed, I have more energy and stamina, and that makes me a better role model for my kids, my niece and nephews, a better sister and friend.

Two rather profound things happened this week, and ironically, both happened on Friday. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence, maybe the universe was looking for me to learn something big yesterday. So, I was having a conversation with my principal, asking her to help me and a colleague scrape together some funds to help pay for us to go to FETC (Florida Educational Technology Conference) this January. We submitted a proposal to speak at the conference and were accepted. But they only cover one registration, and we would also have the travel expenses to deal with, along with lodging and food. We had a fantastic conversation, and I am so grateful for her support, it helps to be part of something amazing, and to know you're appreciated. But she did mention that the people who make these decisions have the philosophy that it's not in their best interest to fund a trip for teachers to go speak at a conference, because if the objective of the trip is for us to speak, then it's not like we're learning something new to bring back and contribute. I can certainly see things from that perspective, especially when times are as financially tight as they are. But it made me wonder-- when did it stop being an expectation that teachers share with each other? When did our role become that of a receptacle, a bucket to collect drops of information to organize, plan, and then hand off to students? One of the things we know about learning is that you remember 10% of what we read,20% of what we hear,30% of what we see,50% of what we see and hear, 70% of what we discuss with others, 80% of what we personally experience, 95% of what we teach others (Edgar Dale). Does this theory only apply to students? It's interesting that in times of financial scrutiny, decision makers often cut corners where we need the funding most, and place weird amounts of value in things that we could live without. But right now that's not for me to decide. Nevertheless, I dream of the day when teachers are valued as the professionals they are, complete with the salary, the support, the pride and respect, and the quality of life. In the end, though, as it relates to my discussion, (and this is another reason I am grateful to be in such a phenomenal school community, with great leaders, colleagues, gush gush gush...) I was given some good information by my esteemed principal about how I could write a proposal that would go to said decision makers, which would highlight the professional development that we would benefit from and be able to bring back to our school. I'll take what I can get, and run with it.

OK, so onto enlightenment number two. So, I have been trying to coach one of the grasshoppers through some rough patches in the overall attitude department and back on track. Some things have happened of late which have left me frustrated and feeling inadequate, not to mentioned worried for grasshopper. I ended up having a conversation with the dean yesterday regarding some of the things we've been dealing with, and despite the support and faith in her leadership, I have just not felt right about the situation. And I had a sore throat and was getting more tied by the second. Convinced I was coming down with the contagious creeping crud that has been spreading through the student body like the plague, despite my Emergen-C loading and super green smoothie drinking, I came straight home, got into my sweats and plopped myself on the couch. It was then that the awareness happened. I was flipping through the channel guide, and even though I have 198 cable channels, there was NUH THING on that thrilled me. I saw that a show called "Brick City" was on Sundance, and it sounded interesting, so I tuned in. And I was fascinated. It was a documentary about the efforts by the mayor of Newark, NJ, along with his director of police, and local social activists, to drastically decrease violent crime in the city during the summer of 2008. I watched for 6 hours straight- my eyes glued to the tv like they were giving away cash money. There were many things that opened my eyes about the situation at school, and many comments that inspired me. For instance, "It takes a man to teach a boy how to be a man." And I realized why we need more male role models in schools, and how young men are effected by not having a strong male role model in their lives. My eyes were also opened to the importance of community, and teaching kids about having a moral compass, and how reform cannot happen unless everyone is involved, and how great things don't happen unless adversity helps steer the ship. We can't even think about reforming education unless we reform how people live and think, unless we put the concept of dreams and aspirations back into kids minds, unless we bring the arts back into schools and how they need to be infused into the core curriculum. I could write a whole blog about the absence of the arts in public schools, but tonight I will spare you. Another example of unwise corner cutting in public schools. If you have the chance, the show is "Brick City" and it's shown on Sundance. Thank you Forrest Whitaker, executive producer, Cory Booker, Mayor of Newark, you changed my life.

"When you say a kid doesn't want to learn, that's like saying a moth doesn't want to be a butterfly." (Principal Baraka, Central High School, Newark, NJ)

"Isn't it more powerful to invest in our kids before they become teenagers with crime problems?" (Mayor Cory Booker, Newark, NJ)



And, one last thought to leave you with. I attended a red carpet event at the Naples International Film Festival today. It was a kickoff event for our district's involvement in a project with Bluenose Edutainment where kids will write music, scripts, and sports interviews as part of our regular curriculum. It was AWESOME. What was most awesome was this video. A little girl in a 2nd grade class went to her teacher last spring after the earthquake in Haiti and said, "Can't we do something? Can't we write a song?" The teacher said, "We'll see." The end result was that they partnered with a music composer and producer, a vocal coach, anc eventually a film crew, and they wrote their song, they recorded it, and they made their own video. Now they have their own website, GiveThemHope.net. Check it out, spread the word. Every child should know they can change the world.

"Give Them Hope" Sea Gate Elementary from Mark Haffner on Vimeo.

Week 3: Operation Everybody Graduates

Writing a blog on the 9th anniversary of the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks seems trivial. What could I possibly have to say about the world of education that is relevant to a nation still mourning those lost on that day- the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, partners, best friends, sons and daughters. We continue to honor them- the heroes and heroines, the epic battles they fought, as the days wear into nights and the nights wear into dawn. Easily distracted by issues of today, ignorance thrust into the spotlight to distract from what we remember.

But then I remember that September 11th, 2001 was a turning point in my life. What changed was not only the kind of human being I would become, but how I would spend my life. On that day, every moment was drowning in confusion and anger, and for days to come, chaos reigned supreme. I didn't know much except that I was not in the right place, and I couldn't look down the smoking barrel of such an unthinkable tragedy and do nothing. I had been thinking about and planning a move for some time, but that day, the gut wrenching feeling, the images of destruction, watching grown men break down and cry, all of those things nudged me to make a move. Within a few weeks, I would leave my job as a graphic designer and begin my journey to becoming a professional educator. The journey was long, treacherous at times, marked by periods despair and doubt. But 10 months later, credentials in hand, I was hired for my first teaching appointment, and never looked back.

Cliche as it may seem, all I've ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. I can't say that I am all that great at what I do, or that I am a superstar, or that I am even deserving of the right to make any comparisons between my life and this day. But, every day, I am thankful for what I have, and I remember- all those who have loved and supported me over the years, the love of my family and friends, and how lucky I am to be so privileged to have the job I have and be surrounded by such wonderful and amazing people. I remember every time that I look at the NYC skyline that thousands of people perished that day, and that millions had their lives shaken by the events that would unfold. I am thankful that my friends who were in lower Manhattan that day all came home safely.

While I watched the coverage today of the memorials, and the newsfootage unearthed to remind us of who we are and how we got to this moment in time, I am reminded about why I am proud to be an American. I am also reminded of why it is of the utmost importance that I remain committed to the success of my students, and to my role in their lives, especially when they seem not-so-committed to their own success.

I'd like to share two things that I read today that left me chilled to the bone. I thank them both for sharing, from the bottom of my heart.

Poet laureate, Billy Collins, shares his poem "The Names" at a special joint session of Congress in New York on 9/10/10: http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/poems/july-dec02/collins_9-6.html

Acclaimed author, Meg Cabot's blog post about what she saw on September 11th, 2001:
http://www.megcabot.com/2010/09/nine-years-ago/

Week 2 of Operation Everybody graduates

(I am shamelessly stealing this from a colleague, but I don't think he was the original story teller ;-P)

So, on the first day of school, the teacher stands in front of the students and says, "Good morning, class. I'd like to get one thing out of the way right now. Please stand up if you're an idiot."

Blank stares fill the room, and the students wonder if this is a lesson. They wait and wonder. After some time and awkwardness passes, a little freshman slowly rises. he stands there proudly, but patiently. The teacher looks at him with a grimace, lowering his spectacles.

"So, you admit you're an idiot?" he says.

"No," says the freshman. "I just didn't want you standing all by yourself."

How many times do you wonder what your kids 'have on you' or if they see right through you, or at least think they do? I had one of those moments early this week. We spent a day learning about feudal era England in order to prepare for the first big text, Beowulf. After I pulled a total brain fart and couldn't remember where Wales was on a map of Great Britain, IN FRONT OF MY PRINCIPAL, I finally pulled myself together to talk about the invasion of the Roman Empire. I find this stuff fascinating, and I can usually pull the audience in with my story telling techniques. And one of the little grasshoppers chimed in with, "Why do we need to know this stuff, I thought this was English class, not history class." And the little one sat back in the chair very proud, maybe for having challenged me, maybe for having broken everyone's focus. At first, I had nothing. Blank stare. Touche. The little muppet had me speechless for a split second. Then, I had it. "This is part of English history, you need to know what was going on so you can understand what you are going to read. We're building background knowledge."

"I understand what I read, it's just a story. This is stupid."

Now really, I was totally OK with the question, and even able to excuse what seemed like purposeful timing, until I heard the word "stupid." Oh no you didn't, little grasshopper.

"Sure you do!" I said. "I know you're a great student, and so is everyone else. But what you understand is on the surface, and we are going to kick it up a notch here. We want to look at what is between the lines, what isn't written."

And so began a fruitful conversation about oral tradition and why we don't know who the 'author' of Beowulf is. We talked about how the story can change as it is passed on, and how different translators might add their insight without changing the text. We talked about how feudal society might have been without social organization and the influence of Christianity. Oh, my friend joined in, and was an active participant.

My point is, we can build background knowledge all we want. We can lecture about St. Augustine and how he brought Latin learning to an otherwise widely uneducated society and give them theories and formulas and new words. But sometimes we have to help them make the connections. Sometimes, if we don't explicitly show them how the information they have already learned is relevant to the current topic, their teenage brains won't get there. Sometimes a nudge is enough to get them on board, sometimes we need to hold their hands and show them the way, and sometimes, they make their connection without our help. Those are the moments to praise them, to cherish, to celebrate the victory with them.