The Lightness of
Paper Resting on Rock
I began the school year as a rock. I was nestled deep into
the fundamentals and the foundation, establishing and emphasizing the attitude
of gratitude and kindness in the classroom, thinking skills while reading, getting
along, doing the work. I was more
certain than ever of my rock-like dimensions, my commitment to this approach;
and when there was something I didn’t know, I was fortunate to have others to
ask for help. It was going
swimmingly, there, me, building a mountain of rock in which my students could
be solid and rest at the same time.
Ah, but Hurricane Irma came and scissored into our school
year. In the two week plus
interval, I lost some of my rock resolve. When we returned, it was to a gentler
approach. We had to re-teach all our procedures, sure, but during that time I
faced a health crisis, so suddenly my rock solid direction didn’t feel so strong. The students sensed it, of course, and
began to cut away at the expectations, leaving frustration in its wake. Problems erupted that had been hidden
during those first few weeks. This is nothing new, happens every school year. It was just that I felt off course.
I lost a bit of
direction when the cutaways were done, the loose threads being evident, and
exhaustion started to set in. My gratitude journal started to lose momentum and
meaning. I counted days until Thanksgiving break, and then to Christmas
break. I got bored with the some
old units we never seemed to be able to finish, and all the fun was gone.
It was when I realized I was assigning things, giving a
grade, and then just pitching the papers in the recycle bin, that I knew I had
stumbled severely off track. Why didn’t it seem worthy to hand back these
papers? I had to face the fact that perhaps a lot of these were weak excuses
for learning.
Those scissors did some damage. They were like lightning, striking and burning up the good
and the bad, I suppose, because new life has come from it. Much like a burn-off in a forest, I had
to have my crisis of faith in my approach in order to see the next step.
The answers were all around me.
I turned to
paper.
I turned to the paper of the poster in my room that explains
the 16 Habits of Mind, something I had failed to introduce during all the early
months.
It is the paper in the pages of the book I am reading from
every day to my students: Playbook by
Kwame Alexander, which gives easy to understand rules for living using sports
as a metaphor. It has opened up
worthwhile discussions and reflection.
It’s the paper of the data charts I created from STAR reports,
mostly to please my administration, but something that revealed in color and
numbers what I instinctively knew, yet not to the full extent. Those colorful
graphs grace my wall by the door so I can easily see from my desk, and remember
my direction with each class.
It’s the paper of the checklist called “The Passport” I have
introduced to my classes, a way students can do all the things that are
promoted as best practice: grapple with the text, work at their own pace,
answer high-level questions, meet with me at the small group table for help,
choose activities to show their learning, and for a select few, allow them to
plan and teach a lesson. I’ve
started that on the fly with some decent results. My students love to teach, and the paper that hangs on my
bulletin board called “How We Learn” assures me that we retain 95% of what we
teach to others. What better way
to learn? I know this is fact from
my own experience.
Paper brought the shift. It enabled me to set those scissors aside, the ones that
didn’t seem to be producing decent results, and to further build on the rock
foundation we already had. I’ve
taught long enough to know that the rock has to come first. We can’t start with paper.
And the classroom –so quiet! I’ve seen the work they are doing – some is excellent, some
needs adjustment, but their attitude about re-doing something like a plot
diagram has changed because the approach was personal. I met and talked directly to the
student about conflict in a story, to help sharpen his individual understanding
based on work he did on his own. Immediate feedback. Took his paper back to his
desk and started working. No whining!
I know there will be stragglers I will need to adjust for: the
timing on these things is always difficult, and I have plans for that. There
were a few complaints and students begging to work with others. But honestly, I
am not taking that personally any more.
I’m doing what is best for them and best for the class as a whole.
I have known my whole career that the teacher makes the
environment in the room. I’ve had
some teachers tell me this is not true.
But I know it is because every time things go wrong, with some
reflection on my part, I can figure out what adjustments I need to make.
I now seek a place where learning is visible – on paper for
us all to see – with activities worth their while. I seek a lightness and peacefulness in myself, as well as
enrichment of the classroom experience. I will continue to cut away any excess that does not serve
this purpose. I have a rock solid belief in this approach. I will remain light
and free as a piece of paper, drifting down and resting on the rock.
1/21/18
