Reflections

As this year wraps up, I've been thinking about the impact of words on each other, as educators. I wonder if the phrases of gratitude I've tried to share felt genuine. I hope, in some way, as the team I've worked with looks back on this year, they are able to remember more positive than negative. It was a steep learning curve for me to learn so much about a new district and department with little start time to a new year. I've appreciated so very much what I've learned from the staff I work for and with. Their words have helped me throughout the year. I wonder if speakers of criticism (including those directed at me) can still even recall the words all these days later. It's funny how words can stick more with one person than they do the other. We say so many words a day, give them away sometimes without even thinking. Criticism on its own isn't usually all that helpful. Feedback, on the other hand, that's where understanding can be possible. But, so...

We ended the department meeting with one of my favorite " Remembering Your Why " activities. Each person is given a post it note and asked to write the first name only of a student whom they feel they had the biggest impact on this year. Teacher after teacher took turns standing and sharing a brief story about the student. Many of the teachers cried with appreciation and we clapped for each other upon sharing our stories. The post it notes were collected onto one big poster sized post it note and will become a laminated reminder of our taking this time to reflect. I Stand For I was touched by each and every story. When some of the teachers began to include phrases like " it just clicked " or " I don't know what happened, but he just began to show such progress .", I felt the need to stop the activity. I asked them to think about these phrases including " It just clicked ". I tried to push their thinking by calling that phrase ou...

We finished dinner two hours ago but I had not one ounce of motivation to clear the table completely and wash the dishes. I could see them right there... RIGHT THERE. Yet, I couldn't bear to jump in and do what needed to be done. Reluctantly, I get up, clear the table and wash the dishes exactly like I've done so many times before. I realize, in completing the task, it wasn't nearly as big of a chore as it felt like this evening. I'm spending some time trying to catch up on emails and also completing some paperwork that is due. I check my to do list while I work and realize there is more to add for each cross off I am able to perform. A quick glance, and it looks insurmountable. I push my chair back from my desk and think about the last email I've read from an amazing teacher. She's concerned about a recent decision. Between the lines, I sense she is upset. I worry she feels unsupported or worse yet, that the new task coming her way is insurmountable. I t...

When I was a young teacher, I can recall struggling in a particular parent-teacher conference. The parent was pleading with me to understand her point and I feigned giving incredible advice. At the time, I was certain it was good.  After all, I was the teacher and was basing the advice on what I learned throughout my short experience that far. It wasn't until many years later, I could fully understand the depth of her concern and the lesson I could learn from her. When I became a mother, what I knew about teaching and learning gained color. I can remember being home alone from the hospital with my newborn and ab-so-lute-ly scared to death of being alone with him. What if something went wrong? Not doing the right thing at the right time became all that more real to me.  When my son faced obstacles, I learned more about how to help more in different areas. I leaned on professionals for advice but still listened to what "my mom's voice" told me as well. I made some v...

Guest post by Erin McMahon, MS, BCBA, LBA and Mom I was not my best me today. Yesterday was a rough day and I hadn’t fully recovered. I stayed up too late watching Tiny House Hunters and getting annoyed with the hunters every time they said one of the tiny houses was “way too small.” This morning wasn’t a smooth one. My own kids were slothlike and I was frustrated. So, like I do, I got mad at myself for being impatient and frustrated because obviously that helps (sarcasm font needed). I had back-to-back meetings scheduled at school this morning and usually that’s not a problem. Meetings are good, we learn from them and get ideas and solve problems. We make plans and help kids. Meetings result in more work but that doesn’t scare me because I really, really love my work. But I wasn’t a good version of me this morning and I’m still thinking about two times in these meetings when I screwed up- not huge screwups, but I struggle to let stuff go when I’m the one who made mistakes. ...

We gathered like every other edcamp session group had before. We were casually choosing our spaces at the table, putting down our phones, and hanging our bags off the chairs. Each of us waited patiently for someone to begin the session. I can't remember who began the conversation but I can remember parts of what she said. I remember the words because I couldn't believe it. Right there, in front of the entire group of strangers, she admitted these situations caused her some anxiety. She admitted while others saw her as this outgoing, confident leader that sometimes she felt like the complete opposite. She identified as an introvert and shared that putting herself out there, out here , took methodical effort on her part. I could barely believe my ears. This was someone I looked up to with great admiration. I had seen her work crowds as a professional development facilitator and was amazed by her ability to manage a varied group. I wanted to have the skills she had! Sittin...

She stands before the group and begins to tell her story. It's a deep and dark collection of memories. It's her story and the way she is sharing it with all of us is just so raw. It's so sad. It takes me back to different days. Still, that rawness makes it beautiful and real. I want to tell her I can relate to some of it but I don't. Another warrior I know asks me to sit with her and she begins to tell me a story about her marriage. It's messy and complicated. I do little more than listen and remind her how incredible she is. I want to tell her I have felt that same messiness before but I don't. He keeps repeating the same lines to me about what has happened and I fade in and out of listening trying to remember what it's like to be a teenager. I think about how hard it was. How many mistakes are made. I think back to the many I made. I'm still ashamed of some all these years later.  I want to protect him from growing up too fast. I think about just ...