Create Tweetable Lessons

Administrators have different ways of assessing engagement when they do classroom walk-throughs. Some carry a clip-board and check off boxes, some even have fancy “clickers” where they actually push a button every time they witness a student on (or off) task. Ipads rest nestled in their arms, filled with notes and opinions on whether or not you’ve “got them.”

How do I measure engagement?

Twitter.

It doesn’t happen everyday, but every once and awhile, a student’s tweet will come into my newsfeed documenting something we did in class. “Tight Seminar got heck of heated today” #Mrsjones” or “finally know what a thesis is #dirtysecret.”  It may be a picture of a poster we created or some kids performing, a juicy debate, or a photo of two kids hugging after making a connection.

A tweet...about school...about something POSITIVE about school...the ultimate compliment indeed!

That’s engagement.

I know not all of us are on Twitter (if not, get on - it’s amazing) but the idea behind the engagement is the message I want to unpack. What are you doing in your classroom that students feel the need to share? What have you done that has shocked them? Inspired them? Challenged them? Made them feel loved? Made them feel important? Made them feel alive?

IF you’ve done any of the above...it may make it on to their Twitter feed and that, my friend, is the ultimate endorsement of connection and engagement.

Engaging kids should not be seen as difficult or taxing. Sometimes it’s as simple as complimenting their new hair color (“lovely shade of teal, Jadon”) or handing them a piece of chalk to rewrite their thesis statement on the center quad of campus because it’s THAT AWESOME. However you operate, what would give them that “feeling” inside of belonging and importance? That will be a message they want to spread.

So, if you are not on Twitter, get on and be on the lookout for the gem of a tweet that elevates Chemistry, History, Econ, AP Lit, CAHSEE math, or Home Ec into the twittersphere.

It’s the compliment your students won’t even know they are giving you. #genuinelearning

Ed Tech makes me feel smart...and a little stupid.

I challenged myself last week by attending my first “ed tech” conference (#cuerockstar). Why was it a challenge? Because I’m a struggling techie. When I read in the conference description that it was for “intermediate to advanced technology users,” a little of my high school asthma came back to haunt me. Intermediate..uh oh...not Laurie. Wheeze...

It’s easy to denounce something when you are “not good at it,” so I decided to immerse myself in some scary territory this summer. Each day at #cuerockstar I had to talk myself down when I got home. Laurie, it’s okay. Breathe. You can handle this.

You see, there were some breakout sessions at this tech conference where I didn’t understand one word the presenter said, everyone else seemed to, but not me. They were incredible presenters and fantastic people, but I didn’t have any context for it to stick to. What a powerful lesson. I reflected back on the school year when I had my students come to me in tears, feeling less than. Feeling unworthy. Feeling stupid.

That’s how I felt: stupid. And that is not a good feeling.

But then something kind of cool happened. I came back Day 2 and understood a little more because I could relate it back to a term mentioned in Day 1. I referred back to my little spiral notebook that I had feverishly been writing in the day before, and I highlighted the trick in Google Chrome to make the omnibox into a calculator, then I highlighted the #Makey Makey (and bought one for my daughter’s birthday), I tweeted using @ and # and received responses almost immediately from the God-like tech presenters that had wowed me earlier in the day. I even made a #thinklink on my daughter’s face.

I was learning, and that is not always a comfortable or enjoyable process because it has to include struggle and inquiry in order to create deep meaning in the learner.

My goal for next year is to have everyone of my students blogging and then to hopefully incorporate blogging into every content area schoolwide. SInce starting my own blog, I have felt inspired and challenged. It has been a form of therapy and connected me with so many passionate educators across the country. It has been, in short, amazing and rejuvenated my teaching in year 12. I want my students to feel this, write for a global audience, and empower them with a tool they can take into their future and use in any aspect of their life they feel passionate about.

In order to do this, I need technology. I need it.

So, this summer I begin working on my plan to incorporate Blogger into my classes. I will stumble, I will need help, I will be uncomfortable, but I will grow with my students as a learner modeling and embracing the mess.

Why I Love Summer Conferences

Yesterday, I spent seven hours at an education tech conference (@cuerockstar) with a cafeteria full of happy people. They were laughing, drinking coffee, smiling, chatting, eating, talking, working, and creating. Who were these “Pollyannas,” and why were they so damn content working their tails off all day?

They were educators...in the summertime.

The number one reason for the relaxation and pure engagement? No bells. No bells were ringing, no classes were starting, no students were popping through the door in tears due to a broken heart, no one threw up in the hallway. It was a room full of uninterrupted passionate adults excited about their own learning...because they were given the gift of time to do so.

Now, during the school year, it’s not as if we “turn it off.” I know many teachers who remain innovative, creative, and flexible in their classrooms. But these teachers are your workhorses, because they have had to do it while in the midst of the school year. They are pushing through the “tireds” after a vigorous day of teaching and spending hours researching and implementing for the following day or week, and not everyone can do that, especially if you have your own family at home that needs a wee bit of attention.

The school year can be likened to a favorite central valley pet: the pit bull.  It grabs you in fall, clenches its teeth, locks its jaw and keeps you captive until Spring. There. is. so. much. to. do. that sometimes that “creative and innovative” part can come across as almost frivolous.

Summertime is a different. Without the constraints of our tight knit schedule and the unpredictability of a classroom full of kids, we can focus on ourselves as scholars and life-long learners. I could just feel the buzz in the air yesterday: teachers in flip-flops and shorts and t-shirts, laptops in hand, talking about summer trips to Alaska, “Game of Thrones” finale, and the “Orange is the New Black” premiere.  

But, here is the psycho part...what were they talking about most of all? NEXT YEAR! Yep. We just closed out the school year and said goodbye to our kids and the majority of the day yesterday was spent talking about NEXT YEAR. How can I engage the unengaged? What will deepen learning? How can I get my kids to express from the heart and care about what we are learning?

That is some love and passion right there.

I met teachers who have swanky digs up in Clovis and met others who teach on an Indian Reservation where some of their poorest families have to burn tires in the winter to keep warm. The interesting dynamic: there is absolutely no difference in passion when it comes to what population you teach. All of these people want to be the best for their number one customer: their students.

Today, we continue collaborating, eating, and laughing as we work together to shape our classrooms into idealistic places of beauty, using each other as mentors, therapists, and comrades.

And next week, I will revisit all I’ve learned as the sand squishes through my toes in Huntington Beach.

Get Involved Outside of the Classroom

You are exhausted. It’s the end of the year. You are behind on grading. Supply orders are due for next year. The list goes on and on...

Then the ASB leadership kids pop into your classroom and ask: WIll you be in the lip sync for spirit week?

Your first thought is, how can I possibly fit one more thing into my schedule? I simply can’t do it...I have no more gas left in tank. On empty...puttering...puttering...

“I wouldn’t miss it. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” you smile cautiously.

“Yes!” the ASB kids high five and jump around as if they won the California Powerball and race out of the room to gather more willing victims.

Time. There is no time in our profession. How is it possible to be behind on the first day of school? Ask a teacher. The nature of our profession is one of giving and time is a commodity we don’t have. However, will the kids remember a clean desk or you shaking your groove thing in the gym to some bad 80’s hip hop? Chances are it will be the latter.

Getting involved on your campus does many, many things for your street cred. One, it connects you with other colleagues outside of the classroom - also, in short supply. Even one lip sync rehearsal together sharing some laughs will create a some bonds between you that did not exist before, making that next faculty meeting grouping more comfortable and fun.

Secondly, the kids see you in a different light: It humanizes you. They will appreciate your rhythm or lack thereof. They will laugh and smile and the next day in class you have an opener that isn’t academic...something to talk about that is positive and a shared experience.

Thirdly, it increases school spirit exponentially. The staff sets a tone for a campus. If you dress up for every spirit day, your kids will be more likely to. Even if they don’t, they will start to look forward to coming to class just to see what you are wearing. My colleague (and cousin) in our math department has become FAMOUS for his costumes. They have ranged from a member of the group Wham! to dressing like a retiring teacher in his department (down to the bald cap!), the kids now come by his room every spirit day, whether they have him or not just to see the get up.

Lastly, it’s just fun. F.U.N. Super duper crazy fun. Those three little letters that sometimes we forget about. School is supposed to be fun. I know we are preparing them for the real world, but guess what? We aren’t there yet! They are kids and they are supposed to have some fun, dammit!

SO put on that tutu, dance it out to some Salt n Pepa, and GET INVOLVED. You only live once...shouldn’t you incorporate some silly?

Tender Love vs. Tough Love: What Do Students Need?

Second in my series of alumni visits, another one of my wild freshman boys came by last week in the form of a soldier: Private First Class Lopez. This was also one of my underachievers, flagged “at risk’ by his 8th grade counselor. I had him in my Freshmen English class and my colleague, Ms. Linder, had him in an English support class.

Ms. Linder found him in the parking lot after school one day and walked him back to my room. He shared his story with both of us, a welcome respite from the insanity of final grades and packing up our classrooms for summer.

After graduating (barely), he continued to live in his hometown of Pixley. He pieced together a couple of minimum wage jobs and occasional field work, partied, and talked about the good ol’ days in high school with his buddies, secretly wishing he would have cared or paid more attention...basically, wanting a redo.

He watched some of his friends immerse themselves fully into the gang lifestyle, others became teen parents, and some just got stoned and played video games all day.

This, he decided, was not for him.

He made an appointment with an Army recruiter and enlisted. He is now stationed in Honolulu, Hawaii at Schofield Barracks - in an odd twist of fate, this is my hometown and exactly where my father was stationed when we moved to Oahu in the late 70s.

He remembered my Hawaii photos on my classroom wall and was so excited to share all about his new home knowing it was my old one. He has travelled all over the world including Philippines and Thailand.  

“I never thought a little boy from Pixley would be doing all this,” he sighed.

But, what he was probably most proud of was his brand new 2015 black licorice Camaro that he just bought and drove onto campus. Now, I’m not a car person, but this really made me smile.

“It’s a physical symbol of your success and hard work. Good for you, Private.”

He then thanked us. He thanked Ms. Linder and I for being so loving and nurturing…”like moms” to him. He said he always loved walking up the stairs to our classes because he knew we would be in the doorway smiling and greeting him - we teach across the hall from each other so it was always a “2 for 1” special, no matter which of us he had that period. He could count on us.

Then something interesting happened: he wanted to know where Mr. Smith was, one of our colleagues. We told him he was probably in his classroom wrapping up and told him the room number.

“He would love to see you!”

Private 1st class responds: “I don’t think so, Mrs. J.  I hate that mother f&^%$er.”

Whoh.

He goes on to explain that Mr. Smith was hard on him. One day when he came in stoned to class, Mr. Smith said he would end up in prison and be a loser his whole life if he didn’t shape up. Mr. Smith talked to him everyday about his future plans, made him stay after class to finish homework, and called home when he acted up. It was Mr. Smith he thought about when he enlisted for the Army and it was Mr. Smith he imagined when he was in boot camp and didn’t think he could climb the wall on the obstacle course...not Ms. Linder and me.

He wanted to show Mr. Smith the Camaro. He wanted to show him that he had proved Mr. Smith wrong.

This got me thinking about how drastically different our approaches are as educators. The words Mr. Smith uttered would NEVER come out of my mouth, yet this tactic seemed to propel this young boy through some of the toughest moments of his life. Could he have done it without Mr. Smith’s challenge ringing in his head? I really don’t think so.

The tough love versus the soft love approach and the unique organic relationship every student has with each teacher creates a dynamic, multi-layered learning environment. We need each other. I need Mr. Smith to speak the hard truth to kids and Mr. Smith needs me to allow kids to cry on my shoulder and give me a big bear hug.

I don’t know if he found Mr. Smith that day, but I don’t think he needed to.

Private 1st class had succeeded, he had gotten out of Pixley, and he owned a Camaro.

When Old Students Come Back to Visit

This is the time of year that alumni come back home from college, work, or the military to visit their old high school teachers. It triggers lots of memories. Last week, a strapping young man walked through my door blinding me with his mega-watt smile.

"Mrs. Jones?"

It took me a second, but through the cadence of his voice, that punky little freshman boy quickly emerged from seven years ago.  

"It looks the same in here," he smiled.

"You sure don't!" I laughed as I gave him a big hug.

Joe was an angry little 14 year old from Pixley, our neighboring town to the South. Riddled with poverty and gang violence, strong families still emerge from this dusty neighborhood..but it isn't easy.

Joe didn't crack a smile for the first month of freshmen English: It was as if he was daring me to try and make him do it. It was a little game we played. I greeted him everyday at the door, complimenting him on the artwork on his t-shirt: a scantily clad girl straddling a rocket or Marilyn Monroe sporting a rotting skull face. He looked up at me stone faced, and walked on to his seat, never carrying a book or a backpack or a pencil...just Joe.

One day, Joe proudly donned a new t-shirt with a very familiar face: Tupac Shakur.

"Did you wear one of my favorite poets to class just for me, Joe?" I smiled as I patted him on the shoulder.

"No, it's Tupac," he rolled his eyes, "He's a rapper."

"I know...he's one of my favorites-what a genius."

Needless to say, my poetry unit slated for the following month jumped into class that day.  I grabbed The Rose that Grew from Concrete from my shelf and tossed it under the Elmo projector.

We conducted an impromptu Socratic Seminar and deconstructed three of Tupac's poems with Joe leading the way. He knew everything about him and gladly became the expert in "cool." He compared Tupac to his father, imprisoned near by at the Corcoran prison: at night Joe explained he can see the security flood lights faintly in the distance. He said he it made him feel close to him.

Then we copied.

Everyone modeled their own poem using one of Tupac's for inspiration. Joe’s was beautiful. So beautiful that I grabbed it and told him I was going to submit it to the Fresno State Young Writers' Conference contest.

"What's that?"

I explained to Joe that it was a writing competition that we were going to try for the first time. “If your piece gets chosen, you and six others will ride up with me to Fresno State and spend the day with me. Does that sound fun to you?”

“I don’t care.” That was my yes.

Joe did win a spot that year to Fresno state, and although his poem did not win and get published, he spent the day in breakout writing sessions with graduate students, got to eat in the university food court (yay, orange chicken!) and enjoyed the “hot college chicks” (his words, not mine).

He is happy now, living an honest life in a simple town, and he came back to visit me.  

He came back to visit me.

Top 10 Reasons Teachers Need Summers Off

Teachers get a lot of flack for a six letter word: S.U.M.M.E.R. In fact, virtually any complaint shared by an educator to a non-educator receives this response:

“Yes, but you get summers off.”

This logic naturally stems from the fact that many, many people have high stress jobs and could use the summers off. Well, I would like to argue the point that guiding a room full of young ones is a little different.

I entered the teaching profession when I was 32 years old, so luckily I have many professional experiences to compare it to. After graduating from Long Beach State, I started working for the Grammy Awards in Santa Monica. Glamorous? Yes. High stress? An insanely resounding YES!  I had two weeks off a year. I needed them, I loved them, and did use them to decompress yet was always ready to return.

As Executive assistant to the President/CEO, I was virtually on call 24/7. If he were stranded at LAX, I got a call, if his boxer pups needed their tails snipped, I got a call, if his youngest son needed to be picked up in Malibu after his camp, I got a call. You get the picture. Dealing with rich, wealthy rock stars and savvy music execs on both the east and west coast, caused major, major stress and anxiety in my life.

I still didn’t need summers off: not like I do now and here is why...

When I started to reach my boiling point at the Grammy office, I left my desk and walked around the block, breathing in the salty Santa Monica air.  When I stayed late the night before, I treated myself to a Starbucks the next morning and came in a bit later. When I needed to concentrate on my backlog of emails and paperwork, I shut my office door.

What can a teacher do when they reach a boiling point at work? Nothing. Swallow it and concentrate on your kids. Take a quick deep breath and keep rolling. We are charged with the care of our students. We legally cannot leave them alone even for a bathroom break because if something happens we are responsible. I have been sick and had to vomit but have held it in until break. Teachers have amazing bodily fluid controls.

Aside from physically not being able to leave the kids when you are in need, your paperwork, grading, planning, and all other school business need to wait until the end of the day. None of this can get done when you have between 25-40 young people in your class. Yes, we all have a prep period but that small chunk of time every other day is usually gobbled up by a meeting, subbing for someone else, or simply staying afloat by making a few copies and cleaning up the tornado that the kids left behind.

Summers off (which really equates to about 8 weeks) do include some professional development and some meetings, but you can breathe. Top 10 reasons we need them:

1. We need to actually spend time with your own family, without falling asleep on the couch at 8:15pm. Really listen, hang out, and be present with your own family. If you are a strong teacher, chances are you have ignored them a little for the past 10 months.

2. We need to have time to exercise, walk around the block, and do some yoga.

3. We need to reflect: your ability to reflect on the year becomes much easier when you are not waking up at 5:00am to do it again the next morning. What went really well? (the keepers) and What sucked? (the dumpers). Make two lists and adjust.

4. We need to refill: teaching is a profession that requires SO MUCH GIVING, that you have to have time to refill your vessel. Towards the end of the school year, teachers are hovering on empty, just like a gas tank. We have heard about breakups, bullying, divorces, learning disorders, college acceptances, remediation, and been the cheerleader for every student. It’s exhausting, and the attention needs to turn on us, for at least a little while, in order to fill back up for next year.

5. We need to binge watch a fun show on Netflix: “Dexter,” “Walking Dead,” “Gilmore Girls,” “Sons of Anarchy,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” or “So You Think You Can Dance.” Lose yourself in the joy of someone entertaining YOU.

6. We need to Read, Read, Read. This needs to be broken down into two categories: beautiful fiction and inspiring non-fiction. Start with the fiction...lose yourself in a juicy crime novel or drippy romance or ridiculous fantasy. Relax and let the authors do all of the work. Then when you have had enough of a break from the classroom, troll Amazon or your local bookstore to find some ways to transform your pedagogy next year. Copy, steal, and emulate great teachers.

7. We need to swim.

8. We need to bake something new and cook something new (or at least eat something new).

9. We need to go somewhere new. It doesn’t need to be Paris (even though that would be amazing). Road trip to a town a couple hours away and go on an adventure. Yelp restaurants and secret spots on the internet and explore.

10. We need to organize our classroom: I love grabbing an extra large Diet Coke and blasting some Tears for Fears while redecorating my classroom in the summer time. It is therapy at its finest.  Include your own kids and purge the stuff you haven’t used in 5 years and tidy up the stuff you did and will use.

You can probably think of 100s more (and I hope you can!). Enjoy every minute of your recharge. You have earned it, and we need you back in the classroom in fall relaxed, recharged, and ready to go. Remember, a happy teacher makes a good teacher. And then next time someone says “yes, but you get summers off” simply reply with a smile:

Yes, I sure do.