It Gets Better In October

Starting an entirely new program, in a new building, with teachers I'd never worked with (or met, in some cases), with FRESHMEN, was a pretty crazy idea if I do say so myself. When the furniture didn't come on time, we rolled with it, when we didn't have all the periods covered, we jumped in. However, we all had some tipping point, where the "flexible" approach seemed like a made-up philosophy at best and an annoying catchphrase at worst.

On one of the particularly insane earlier days in September, one of my fellow teachers looked like she was ready to run from the room. I knew the feeling. We all did. Afterall, we were taking a group of students and starting a "school within a school," and forging a supportive community to meet the social and emotional needs of students while also teaching Regents classes. No biggie.

I remember saying, "I feel the same way. I promise there will be a day in October where everything settles down. It will be a boring day where everything just kind of works out the way it is supposed to."

Friday, October 11th was that day. It gets easier in October.

Sharing Our Daughters

When I was pregnant with Zoey--14 years ago--I felt incredibly insecure about the type of mom I wanted to be. I read everything I could get my hands on, anything from Feminist theory to books of poetry to the wisdom of What to Expect When You're Expecting. I jotted bits and pieces down in a journal, marked up my books, and dreamed up the future for a baby we'd prayed for for years.

There are two things that have come back again and again. The first is probably what is now called "attachment parenting," but I think then was just an overarching responsiveness to your child's social and emotional needs above all else--including schedules, sleeping arrangements, eating habits, and the like. The philosophy put the child at the center of everything else, and it led to my children both co-sleeping with us for their first several years, flexible sleeping schedules, and interest-based educational activities. It turns out, in my own home, I was the same kind of mom as I am teacher. The flexibility that I constantly preach for our classrooms is the kind of flexibility that I craved for my own kiddos.

The second lesson that I return to from those early days of thinking about parenting (and believe me, a number of those ideas have changed!), is the need for other adults in your child's life. I distinctly remember this because we don't live near family, and at the time I couldn't imagine my child ever being out of my sight! However, as she grew, I could see that she would benefit from mentoring relationships with other women. As hard as it can be to consider, there are things my daughter might need from another woman that I can't provide. It even feels horrible to write it, but I know in my depths that it is true. As I write this, she is having lunch with a church leader, and I know that this relationship is very important. I'm a very spiritual person, but it is safe to say that I am not the biggest fan of organized religion, and my daughter is a mega-volunteer with a spirit of serving. Zoey also has a theater mentor too, as well as several of my friends who regularly step in to help her.

I've come to learn that the benefit of the "attachment parenting" route is that my children feel safe and secure in their home and relationships with us here, and that allows them to be more independent when out in the world. There have been, of course, bumps in the road when our boundaries are too blurred, but for the most part, this journey so far has benefited from both of those early parenting ideas.

As counterintuitive as it may seem at times, I give Zoey the space to have conversations with other women that I'm not privy to. One day, when Zoey has some problem that she can't discuss with me, I know that she'll have other women who can help her solve whatever it may be. Zoey and I both call each other friend, and though we mean it, I can guess there might be a time when you just don't want to talk your mom about something. I'm confident that she'll have strong, caring women mentors. What better gift can we give our daughters than to share them with other women who can help smooth their path?

Observation Observation

In Buffalo, we recently had a weather "situation" that led to three days in a row off from school. As this "situation" was developing, I had a sinking feeling. Don't get me wrong, I love all weather events and especially those that let me wear my pjs all day and cuddle with my kiddos, all while drinking unlimited coffee because I can go to the bathroom whenever I darn well please. Nope, I was down for a weather day, but my observation was scheduled for the day that was cancelled (in a rare move, the local schools cancelled for Wednesday while we were still in school on Tuesday).

Normally, I don't sweat observations. My district uses the Danielson rubric, and in my training for my School Building Leadership certification, we studied what to look for in a teacher's lesson. I've taught other teachers how to "score a 4" by upping student engagement and demonstrating ways students can own their learning.

But, you know, it isn't actually an ideal situation to leave school on a Tuesday, think you have Wednesday off, then get Thursday, then get Friday, then have a weekend, to return to school to teach a lesson on how to construct a thesis statement. To say that things were surreal is an understatement. With the weekend before included, we'd been in school 2 of the last 9 days.

If I were new, or untenured, or worried that it wouldn't go well, I'd have rescheduled and my administrator would have definitely been accommodating; however, the thing was, I wanted feedback on this lesson because it is hard. Writing a thesis statement about a novel (The Outsiders) while reinforcing all of the structures and grammar we've been working on was going to require heavy lifting on my kiddos part.

What's my "observation" on my "observation?" I was observed 12th period, the last of the day, by choice. I had already taught the lesson 4 times, so I knew the pacing, the stumbling blocks, and the examples that resonated with my middle schoolers. I knew when they'd have questions, and I had made adjustments to my plan. It was a good observation. My students were rock stars. I felt exhilarated, frankly, because at the end of my school day, I'd taught 120 students how to write a thesis statement. It felt great for someone to have seen this happen.

So, my observation is this: teaching is a science of adjustments and calculations, and an art as well, as we each bring our own hues to the picture. It is also an extremely isolated profession, even for someone who writes and tweets and engages like I do. The fact is, we should all be observed more. Not for the Danielson score, of course, and not for assessment purposes or APPR, but for the sheer fact that this is work that needs an authentic audience--not only our students, but others as well--other teachers, admin, but especially those who will be teachers in the future. This magic that takes place in our classrooms needs to provide a model for those who are just starting out. With our new teachers leaving in droves, we might want to consider how modeling (which all good teachers do for their students!) could help. Maybe we need to look at teaching through a new lens--apprenticeship.

I'm not claiming to be the perfect teacher; in fact, I'd love to get into other teachers classrooms to see all the amazing things that happen every day that I've never been privy to! Wouldn't it be awesome if we were ALL given time to apprentice from those who have a skill we don't?