Reflections

At the end of the year, teachers will sometimes ask students to write letters to next year's kids. Our talented teacher mentor coordinator took a spin on that assignment and had our newer teachers write letters to the newest of teachers we will hire next year. There's such wisdom and optimism in each letter. Their words of advice are a positive way to end this year and to begin our next one.  I've chosen a few examples that I think we can all glean a lesson or two from....myself included. Be authentic, be kind, be different, be vulnerable. Your students will appreciate it and so will you. Sometimes it is hard to stay positive if you are surrounded by negative people so make sure to be around those who share your same ideals. Don't try to change yourself but instead dig deeper inside for more of who you are.  Teaching isn't just about what's on your curriculum map,  it's about identifying what your student...

It seemed a little silly to be sitting in the audiologist's booth at my age. She asked me about my hearing difficulties. I told her I had trouble hearing low tones in both ears and it has been something I've struggled with my whole life. She looked at me oddly as if I wasn't telling the truth. I explained it seemed to be more of a hindrance now. People appeared to be growing old of repeating themselves to me and I couldn't always catch every word those with lower voices were saying. Understanding voice mails is especially difficult. (Thank goodness for a patient secretary that will listen to them with me when needed.) I sat in the booth struggling to complete the task. At times, I even closed my eyes trying to concentrate and pick up parts of the sounds or words. For most of my life, I've made fun of my hearing loss. But in reality, it hasn't been all that funny. I know I am missing so much of what is being said. It can be hard to follow large conversation...

The mom is struggling on the other end of the phone to explain the situation involving her daughter to me. She asks me to put myself in her position. She asks me what more the district can do to support her daughter. Her baby. Her one and only. I tell her I am surprised by what she has shared as we've never seen the behavior or worry she is reporting. I attempt to reassure her that her teachers haven't seen it either. Her daughter blends into every other kid in the hallway. Her daughter says a polite hello to the adults who do interact with her. Her daughter completes her homework and tries not to really engage with many. Her daughter feigns enthusaism when the need arises. Her child works relentlessly at blending in and becoming invisible. Her mom tells me that's her biggest maternal fear. She knows as the days go by, her daughter will grow more and more anxious which will make the evenings and next mornings before school that much harder. She asks me if I know what ...

She writes: I am not a person who is comfortable writing about myself or my experiences. As a child I learned that my personal written words could be used against me. However, I have been following your blog and took a tremendous leap of faith and wrote about an experience I had. It has taken me a couple of days to gather the mental strength to take another leap and share this with you. You inspired me to put some things down into written words. ❤ When you have been an educator for a while, you will certainly face the inevitable ebbs and flows of emotion and energy. You will ask yourself, “Am I making a difference?” . At the start of all our meetings; teachers, teacher-leaders and administrators are asked “Why are we doing this?” , in context of working toward improving learning and student growth, and the answer is obviously “for the kids” . But the question we quietly ask ourselves in the moments of low energy, high frustration, lack of feeling effective, mounting time ...