Obvious Growth: An #ISTE2014 Reflection

In the summer of 2012, I attended my very first ISTE conference. This prompted the creation of this blog, my first public writing, and my journey into EdTech. This conference and the people that I attended with laid the foundation for the honest reflection I had to do about how I was teaching and what I really wanted for my students. This was both exciting and extremely frightening.

ISTE is a hustle. The days are filled with learning and teaching, conversations, new ideas, sharing and pushing our thought-process to be different. The nights are long with friends and networking and celebrations. It is a late night and early morning space where many of us don't stop moving until we step back home. I heard it described by many as exhausting, draining, and emotional. With so much to take in, allowing the brain and body time to rest and reflect is vitally important in the processing of this experience.

As I rest on my plane ride home, I think back to 2012 and how different my personal and professional lives are today.  This year I had the privilege of bringing two of my colleagues to ISTE for the first time. Our school recently receive a substantial grant that will allow us to propel our 1:1 Chromebook program forward and develop our curriculum and teachers in a way that deeply supports the rich learning we crave for our kids. We have a team of people that I love and trust and that push me to be better each day.

Today I love teaching. Today, I am braver than I have ever been. Today, I feel like I make a difference.

In this travel home, I think about how different I am as a teacher. It is sometimes tough to look back on who I used to be, but a worthwhile exercise. As we push forward, it is important for me to remember this moment. In another two years, I want this same experience. I want to look back and be different. I want to be braver. I want to think some of the things I did and said were silly and misguided. I want the growth to be obvious because that will be it is deep and real.

As I gain strength and let the experience of ISTE marinate in a calmer space, I will push myself and my team to take what we have seen, heard, and learned and push ourselves and our kids to have tougher conversations. I want us to feel safe to explore what we did not learn at this conference, what did not meet our needs, what still needs tweeking. I will remember that all good change comes in a time of acceptance and raw emotion, so I will try to be gentle with myself and others as we jump into the work ahead of us. I will keep in mind the reverse vision of growth I hope to see when I look upon this self in the future, and I will work to make sure that change is obvious.

Destination (not completely) Unknown

Photo by Richard Shaw

Recently I have had the opportunity to speak with a number of school leaders while interviewing for new opportunities within my district. At each table, I have been asked, in some form, about my long term goals. "Where do you see yourself in five to ten years?" This is such a crazy question to me. I am caught off guard each time, even when I prepare and expect someone to throw this inquiry onto the table. 

All my professional life I have been a planner. I like to think big and dream wide. I like action. I seek results. I crave achievement. That being said, I never end up exactly where I think I am going. The path always shifts and detours pop-up, forcing me to rethink the journey, make new decisions, and adjust accordingly. This is one of my favorite things about life: having a plan with the potential for it to shape and shift as I grow and move forward. I have learned that being rigid and fighting for goals to remain stagnant is painful. Jumping on the off-ramp of new opportunity fuels me. 

While my destination is not completely unknown, my goals aren't as neat and clear cut as most might hope for when they ask this question. In truth, my goal is to make change. Big change. Sustainable change. Change that leaves a legacy of doing things in a new way and setting a path for continued growth no matter where I am in relation to that space. I want kids' lives to be better because I challenged the status quo. I want lives to change because they found strength to carry a counter narrative into a place where that story was once silent. 

My goals are bigger than a job title. They are messier than a direct route. There will be moments when I get lost. At times, the road will get rocky and feel impossible. I will probably change course, sometimes with ease and other times kicking and screaming. It will be hard, and exhilarating, and exhausting, and soul-filling, and draining. It is important for me to remember that so many others are traveling this road alongside me. Their journey running parallel to mine. Our destination different, yet very much the same- unknown yet purposeful as we drive forward.

The Tough Stuff

Photo by Richard Shaw

It is so hard to say goodbye. This word carries with it an emotional anchor that can sink us at a startling pace. Whether we are physically moving on to a new space, closing a chapter of our lives, or dealing with the passing of a loved one, goodbyes are tough on our hearts. This year, I am watching a group of students take a huge leap into adulthood, spreading their wings to fly away from our school and into the unknown territory of high school. Some of these kids have been at our school since kindergarten. It is scary. It is exciting. It is emotional. 

For a lot of us, summer is a space of freedom, renewed energy, and soul-cleansing relaxation. There is time to do all those things we love but pushed aside during the school year. I know I breathe a little deeper in the warmth of the summer. But as we say our goodbyes, the view of that break can look cloudy and scary. That fear sometimes causes us to act in unpredictable ways, usually in a space where emotions are already sensitive. It is easy to forget that so much of what our kids feel is rooted in fear that may never truly be revealed to us. 

I was reminded recently of this in my own life. With the passing of a family member, I have watched the process of saying goodbye take on many different forms and emotions. Grief has so many confusing faces and much of that process I will never understand. It has been important for me to remember that love trumps all, kindness is vital, and the space needed to say goodbye may or may not include my presence. When words fail, grace succeeds. 

These lessons of life don't necessarily make me better at saying goodbye or help me know how to make that transition easier for anyone, including my students. It does, however, provide me moments for reflection and deeper compassion for how tricky these life changes are for all of us.

Going into our last week of school, I will try to provide opportunities for our kids to embrace their emotions, explore their feelings, and honestly share my own experiences without expecting anything in return.  I will try to better tend to their hearts, even when mine is tired. I will remember that reactions are not emotions, and my response will set the course for important situational outcomes. I will remember to laugh a little more, offer hugs to those that are smiling, and listen carefully to the silent moments. I will remember that it is always better when we don't have to walk through the tough stuff alone. 

Making A Mess

Sometimes we have to make a decision to make a mess. Other times, we have to do things that upset people. There will be moments where we know the majority will not understand our actions, or maybe not have the ability to listen to the whole story, and they will judge us. Fear of any of these things will completely stunt change. 

If we want to make sustainable change in the educational landscape, we have to be willing to demo some of the existing structures. We must be willing to push our vision forward and uproot ineffective, stale, and stagnant systems. Breaking down these pieces cause the dust and dirt to stir and it makes our space cloudy. But if we aren't brave enough to knock pieces down, we can never truly transform anything.

This makes people uncomfortable. This is not tidy and it is hard to explain a big vision while standing in the midst of the rubble. The thing is, there is beauty in this space too. As grimy as it can feel, the story of change can be transferred from heart to heart and soul to soul. That doesn't make it any neater or easier to see, but it can build compassion and trust.

In a world where we cannot guarantee equality, we can strive towards change, and we can start constructing something different than we had before. This does not mean we all get the same thing, this means we get the change we work for, and the differences we invest in and steadily nurture. 

It means you have to get your hands dirty, while also trying to get others to see something magnificent beyond the mess. If you can eventually get others to roll up their sleeves too, then you know you are on the right path.

The Whole Teacher Approach

Photo by Ben Andreas Harding

What do teachers really need? This is a hotly contested subject. Do we need more autonomy? Better PD? Higher salaries? More praise?

In short: Yes.

Of course it is much more complex than that. Recently, I have had the pleasure of trying to dissect this topic with one of my teaching and thought partners, Amber Johnson. Our multiple platform and somewhat ongoing conversation has wrapped around to a different way of reaching teachers. It isn't revolutionary. It is actually exactly what we believe is best for the kids we teach, just applied to teachers.

What if we focus on the whole teacher? How might our schools be different if we focused on personal passion, healthy lifestyle, and intellectual growth as much as the "professional development" we assign to teachers? This goes beyond listening to teachers and hearing what they need. This is the next step of helping to develop our teachers into more complete, happier, deeply fulfilled human beings. This is a level of care and love that I don't often hear explored in faculty meetings and staff development sessions.

Let's try this on for size...

The Whole Child Tenants (altered to apply to teachers):

• Each teacher enters school healthy and learns about and practices a healthy lifestyle.
• Each teacher learns in an environment that is physically and emotionally safe for students and adults.
• Each teacher is actively engaged in learning and is connected to the school and broader community.
• Each teacher has access to personalized learning and is supported by qualified, caring adults.
• Each teacher is challenged academically and prepared for success in further study and participation in a global environment.

Teachers are stretched. We are stressed. We are doing incredible things with kids and sacrificing so much of our personal selves to make these gains, to increase the opportunities of our future generations. I think Bill Ferriter put it best when he wrote Teaching is a Grind.  

What happens when we tap into who teachers are and provide them chances to grow in their hearts and souls, not just in practice and skills? How would this alter our stamina, our drive, our overall health and well being?

I don't know exactly what this looks like in everyday practice, and I am not sure how we make this happen. Luckily, I work with people I really care about and I can't imagine not providing moments for us to explore growth on every level. I begin thinking about how I can dedicate at least a few minutes each meeting, each gathering, each opportunity, formal and informal, to grow together with this group in a different way. Or at least provide space to see what happens when you make personal happiness and heart-strength a priority equal to that of professional practice.

I can't think of any good reason not to at least try.

Thank a Teacher Day: The #Dreamteam

PPPCS Middle School Team

As we move into the last quarter of the school year, I naturally drift into a reflective state. For me, endings always bring a hyper-sensitivity, which causes me to take a step back and a look back at how I arrive where I am. The reflection of my current situation has not been as centered on my students though, but that of the people on my team and the relationships I have built over the past three years at my school.

As a professional, I have worked at three different schools in Baltimore City. My current school is the longest placement I have had thus far. For the most part, our middle school team has remained pretty consistent over those three years. Some teachers have come and gone, but the cement of our team's foundation has began to really take form this year. 

This is an incredible team of educators. This is a team of people that go above and beyond every single day to make kids' lives better than they were yesterday. These people are smart, loving, patient, and forever courageous. These people have sat with me in moments of laughter and in times of tears. We have yelled in both anger and excitement at what was going on around us. And together we have pushed ourselves and one another to grow into better teachers, and different people, than who we were when we started the year. 

This year, there has been tremendous trust and love. This year, these people moved from colleagues to people that hold a really important piece of my heart. They have held that piece, shaped it to be different, and handed it back to me so I can be better. They show me more patience, trust, grace, and love than I truly deserved. They believe in one another and together we have thrived in so many ways. 

What have I learned from this team, these relationships, this opportunity for deep and internal growth? I have learned that I am only as good as the people I surround myself with, yet we are only as good as our willingness to grow and change. I have learned that it is okay to let people make mistakes, and it is even better to let them figure out how to fix it, but the best is loving them through that process. I will forever remember what is feels like to be wrapped in support and care with a group moving towards a common goal. I will carry this body-memory of success with me into my future experiences. I will be a better teacher and leader because of our work together.

I want to take a minute to thank each of the incredible educators I am lucky enough have on my team. 

Amber Johnson - Thank you never failing to be your true, unapologetic self. Your spirit, energy, and love radiate through your drive to make everyone around you better. Thank you for listening carefully and catching the stories of our team and our students. Thank you for caring about me as a person,  as someone that has messy feelings and crazy ideas.

Jes Pegorsch -  Thank you for teaching us all how to tap into our artistic selves. Your honesty about who you are and how you feel pushes me to be braver and to feel more deeply. You have empowered our students to call themselves artists and to find their own path in self-expression.  Every single day I am learning from you and from the art you create with our students.

Adam Bradbury - Thank you for your amazing paternal nature, your kindness, and for your support of every single kid and adult that is in your space. You make us smile and yet always have your eye on the prize, pushing each of us to be a better part of a stronger whole. You model this strength every day, and we follow your lead.

Mike Hendrick - Thank you for your calm wisdom. You bring a history to our space that allows us to tap into the foundation of our school and our community. Your voice is always pragmatic and your spirit is always nurturing. In my opinion, you are by far the most interesting person on our team.

Tom Consroe - Thank you for being a quiet leader. You have an ability to push our kids to be better without them even knowing they are growing. You show us what it looks like to be compassionate and kind, even in the most frustrating moments.

Rob Glotfelty - Thank you for your dedication and drive for growth and change. I have watched you transform our students into young adults that are curious and passionate about science. You share your deep passion for the universe with us all, and it creates a space of wonder and awe. 

Ricardo Horna - Thank you for teaching us how to love what is special and unique about ourselves. Your natural passion for understanding how to inspire people oozes from your teaching. You push all of us to be proud of who we are and what we have to offer, and then you create a space where we can be courageous enough to showcase ourselves in this vulnerable way.

Greg Heid - Thank you for sharing your passion for math and challenging me to adopt a different language around your beloved subject. You have allowed me to explore what makes math beautiful and how I can appreciate math's role in art, nature, and the natural order of our universe. Thank you for helping to change perspectives. And, as always, thanks for balancing my tiger-approach with the calmness of a turtle.

These people represent the PPPCS #dreamteam. I appreciate each one of you for making me a better educator and a better person.

Professional vs. Personal Development

Photo by Casey Muir-Taylor

Over the last few years we have seen a huge shift in how we develop our teachers. It is no surprise that districts and organizations are beginning to move away from systemic, mass-produced professional development, as the one-size fits all model is neither particularly engaging or effective. With this has come a transformation of PD, with Edcamps and PLCs moving in to take the place of how we traditionally thought about growing teachers.

If you ask teachers, you will probably find that the majority of them are extremely grateful for this change. Teachers need autonomy in how they grow, explore passions, and we also need to build a network of allies that are invested in growing in the same direction as us.

It is becoming more and more apparent to me, as I finish my sixth year of teaching, that being a connected education and having this network of people stretches far beyond my professional growth. This network of people have become far more than colleagues, but true friends that are invested in caring about me as a whole person, not just the piece of me that is an educator. They are people that I connect with over social media, explore educational philosophy and pedagogical struggles with, but it doesn't stop there. I watch them post pictures of their children, celebrate birthdays, and send words of encouragement when hardship and sadness falls. I get messages of encouragement when I am moving into new territory, we share a funny video or new song, and I send a quick note when I haven't heard from someone in a while.

This is a network of people growing the whole educator, caring about the hearts of people.

Last week, I was lucky enough to explore this very topic with a group of educators at Common Ground, the Maryland Society of Technology in Education conference. Andrew Sharos, from Leyden High School in Chicago, was my partner in leading in that session. Andrew and I have worked to connect our classes in various ways this school year and have explored ways to grow as educators. It has been one of the most rewarding and fruitful relationships I have ever had professionally. What I didn't talk about during our presentation were a few of the moments that were more important to me as a person, those points in life when your heart gets a little bigger and your soul a little stronger.

Like getting see Andrew's son for the time.

Or getting to share how our kids at Patterson Park Public Charter School have #leydenpride.

These moments are possible because of being a connected educator, but more than that these experiences have been nurtured by a group of people that encourage educators to take professional development personally. They have become my family in learning and growing and living. 

As we push administrators, districts, and our colleagues to rethink how we grow educators, I will push them to grow the hearts of those around us. When you start with the heart, we all find ways to grow in the direction of love. And when we center that movement in nurturing a community of people that care, it doesn't matter what standards you are nailed to, what curriculum you teach, or what your kids look like, because what you have to give those kids transcends everything external and moves to building internally. These communities allow exceptional personal growth, and that benefits everyone professionally. 

The Landscape of New and Unknown

Photo by Richard Shaw

How do you know that you are ready to change? At what point does the reward of the risk outweigh the risk of staying the same? Does this happen over a series of days or weeks, or is it a momentary shift that takes place without much notice? Maybe it is just a feeling in the heart that grows strong enough for courage to take over fear.

Recently, I read a blog post by Sam Davidson. The post is a total of twenty-six words. And one image. It could not be a simpler post. Yet, the complexity of the message made it hard for me to breathe. I read it about a month ago and I have thought about the message every single day since then.

If you want to grow, you may need to leave where you are.

But where do you go? Can growth really occur from just changing your environment, or are other factors at play here? Is simply wandering into new spaces, finding new perspectives and meeting new people enough to spur the kind of growth I crave? And if so, then why is it so amazingly frightening?

When I think about my experience in the classroom and as a teacher, every change and risk I have taken have allowed for incredible growth, personally and professionally. Making these changes have shaped my love for kids and deepened my conviction for excellence. At the same time, fear and sadness have always been a part of change for me. Leaving one space, moving on, journeying into unknown territory, all these risks must happen upon a foundation of incredible courage. Courage that sometimes takes time to build stronger than any fear associated with the change itself.

As we move into spring, the whole environment is changing, leaving behind a landscape of winter and exploding into growth and rebirth. Let us take some time to watch the flawlessness of our earth as it transforms so effortlessly. Let us grab strength from this natural phenomenon and use it as a metaphor for our own lives. 

Where can we be brave enough to not just grow, but to completely shift into something beautifully new and different? Who around us is emerging into our space and how can we nurture their journey? How are we building our own courage and strength to traverse the landscape of new and unknown?

Marching On

March is a hard month. The month of testing. The month of spring weather teasing us and winter coldness creeping back to remind us that summer is still very far away. March is the month of not yets, almosts, and not quites. We plug along but everyone seems a little more tired, a little less engaged, and emotions tend to live a little closer to the surface.

In my world, March is that part of my story when things get rough. This is the part of the plot where things get confusing. Tears are always close and sleep is hard to find. This is the part of the story when feelings get hurt and hearts get sad.

March is a month of stamina. March will not last forever. April will be here soon. Energy will increase with the temperature and we will all be reminded of growth and rebirth.

As we march on this month, I am reminded that we all need grace.  My eyes become more open to my own defects of characters. My voice must find the words to ask for forgiveness when it is not easily offered. I am reminded that, as I live out the month of March, for some it lasts much longer than thirty-one days.

In this month, how are we supporting the kids and adults that live in a world of constant Marches? Are we a supportive presence? Is there a space we can listen a little more closely, look a little more carefully, and offer love a little deeper? How often do we stop to assess the struggle behind the blame, bad attitude, negativity, or ask what fear is driving undesirable behavior? How can we help one another better our true selves so we can move more harmoniously, with a deeper purpose and greater passion? 

Let's strive to find that path to march together.

Lessons in Leadership

This week I learned a few things about leadership. 

1. Tend to the heart first. Solutions will follow. 

2. When you see struggle, stop and listen. Really listen. Then listen some more. Only then will you understand how to proceed. 

3. You don't have to fix everything. 

The Legacy Story

Photo by Richard Shaw

Our voices are important. We use them to tell our story, to advocate, to relate, and to empathize. Our voices have the ability to be strong and commanding, and in the next moment they can whisper and soothe. Together, our voices can join and create powerful change. Often, our voices collide in uncomfortable spaces that allow for internal reflection and growth. 

But what happens to our voices once we leave our current space? Does our voice remain or is there only a silent void where songs of life used to exist?

With these questions come the pondering of legacy. Telling our story and empowering the stories of our community are vital and at the heart of what I do as educator. I have turned a corner, though, to start assessing what will actually be changed and left behind. Am I just telling a story, or am I building a legacy to carry that story forward?

The plot of growth and progress are cemented in the stories that remain. Our students and colleagues need to be empowered to not only find their voices, but to work together to create a story that lasts and leads the way for the future. 

What are we leaving behind, and how are we teaching the next generation of kids to leave the notes of their story in the composition of our space?

Pleasant Surprise

Photo by Miss Kels

Something incredible happened in Baltimore this weekend. Something I was bit skeptical about at first. Something that I really wasn't sure would work out too great. It was something I have been hoping and dreaming about for teachers in Baltimore for a long time, and on Saturday, pieces of that dream came true.

EdSurge brought to Baltimore the EdTech for Schools Summit. This event was unique in the fact that it was not a conference, there were no sessions, and it was vendor based. You might be thinking what I was thinking at first: Where will the real learning take place? Won't companies just bombard us with products and we will leave feeling a little empty?

I can assure you that this couldn't have been farther from what happened.

Anyone that has ever been to a conference and experienced the vendor hall knows that this is basically a ridiculous, capitalist space. Companies want to sell you something and they are peddling their product to every person that walks by. There are usually so many vendors that it is near-impossible to walk away with new discoveries, as the overload is too much for any one person to process. Vendor halls sell stuff, they don't change minds and they don't create change.

So EdSurge decided to change this a bit. They took away all the noise. A panel of smart people, deeply embedded in education, rated and selected a hand-full of companies that were worth having teachers explore. Around this, a space was created for teachers to dive deep into what these companies offered, the main purpose being feedback. Teachers told the real story to these companies about what they thought of their products.

Now, this is all well and good. Innovative companies and products, teachers, feedback, and it didn't hurt that the event was at the Four Seasons. For me though, the best part was the freedom in this space. There was no set agenda. No formal sessions. Nothing I felt like I was missing. This encouraged conversations. This enabled teachers to sit and talk and share. 

The energy of this day was unlike any event I have attended before, and I would be willing to bet it was because the teachers were allowed to talk. There were not hours blocked off where we were expected to listen, to be passive. This day was active by nature, and it bred a contagious energy of movement. Paradoxically, it also caused people to slow down and talk, think, and reflect.

In addition to feeding off this collective energy, I also reconnected with a few of my dearest friends. In a space with over 700 educators gathered together, you are bound to run into a few people you know. I was lucky enough to get some time with a very old friend that I had not seen in years. Evan Parker, a teacher in Baltimore County, is someone I have known since I was 17 years-old, yet we haven't seen each other in over five years. We were brought together at this event through our common love for Edtech and our excitement for education. We were given a day without boundaries and I we were able to take advantage of this special permission to have free discussion.

For hours we discussed our visions, our dreams, and our families. We talked about struggles we had faced, watched videos of one anothers students, and dug into thoughts around balancing risk-taking with the need for personal responsibility. We asked each other, "What if..." and then we answered the questions. We pushed one another and questioned. We laughed and smiled because we knew something larger, something with greater potential, was building and growing and forming. Something maybe even larger than both us understood.

What happened this weekend was that I (and many others) were invited into a space that was blurred for our benefit. There was strong purpose in the event, yes, but there was an openness can only end in big possibilities and changing hearts. EdSurge brought teachers together and encouraged them to connect. This summit was an event that empowered teachers to take control of their expertise, their knowledge, and the power we have when we come together and think outside the box of normal possibilities.

As a I move forward away from this event, I will ask myself how can I share with reflective exposure? How can I be honest and open with myself through the connections and bonds I build with those around me? What am I doing to carry this energy forward into new spaces? How can this exposure of my thoughts, ideas, and my flaws help inspire others around me? 

From this event, I make two promises. I promise to risk big and I promise to break the rules while doing it. I honestly have no idea what that will look like, what form it will take, or what that journey will look like as it unfolds. I'll let you know as I am figuring it out.

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time, I decided to become an educator.

This is how my story starts. Simple and true, six years ago I could have never guessed the twists and turns my career would hold for me or how this story would unfold. Coming off a week of learning, first at the Science Leadership Academy for Educon and then in Florida for FETC, I am pushed to reflect on where I started in education, how I have grown into my role as a teacher, and what I will work towards in learning and changing for the future of our kids.

My story is messy. It is complex. It is full of peaks and valleys, and there are even some pieces of this journey that I will choose to never share publicly. It is a story of my heart growing through the kids I teach and the support of amazing mentors and professional friends. There is both joy and pain in this story, and I anticipate that as I continue to travel this path as an educator I will only add to both of these pieces along the way.

I had the privilege to share a piece of my story this week at FETC. Working alongside some wonderful people, I participated in a presentation surrounding Visual Literacy, with a focus on storytelling. I watched the people in our session listen, smile, laugh, and open their hearts to share pieces of their own story with complete strangers. It was fun, there was music, and we even sang (Happy Birthday Bob!). 

Six years ago I could have never anticipated I would be in a position to share so much of myself with such a gifted group of educators. Three years ago I would have never believed I would love teaching as much as I do this year. Last year, I would have never had the confidence to lead a session at a state-wide conference in front of people with so much experience and talent. Today, all of these are pieces of my story.

It seems, though, that's how story goes. We can guide our stories, make our decisions and plan our actions, but in the end our stories begin to take on a life of their own. They, in a sense, craft themselves into something bigger than any of us could hope to be in this present moment. Our stories are unfolding around us, in front of us, within us, and trailing behind us. The professional and personal stories we share build bonds and open our hearts to secure the allies we need to walk this road in education, the road that ensures the most wonderful future for our kids. These stories break down the walls, expose our flaws, and allow grace to enter in a very big way. Our stories begin to thread together to build powerful communities, deep missions for growth, and perseverance through collective strength. 

In a world where so many silly things about ourselves can be known and accessed, it can be scary to share the more fragile pieces of who we are. Still, we must ensure we are sharing the deepest parts of our story. What we love, our vision for a better future, and our hopes and dreams are not to shielded away. It is only when we are vulnerable enough to share these pieces of ourselves do we open the floodgates of truth and opportinuty that tend to flow naturally from this level of exposure. We have a responsibility to model sharing our own story while creating safe spaces to catch the stories of others. Together we have to love enough to listen for the story.

We must engage our learning community in hopes of reaching truth rather than simply waiting for them to get to the point. We must push one another to find strength in their stories as it builds upon what makes us human. At our core, each person in this world shares a connection with another person. Are we looking for that connection or is the focus on own motives or gains? When we begin to shift our thinking to finding that connection, our hearts grow a little bigger, kindness flows a little deeper, and our capacity for grace expands little wider. And in a world filled with confusion and pain, we could all just a slight expanse of the heart.

In the craziness of months ahead, the throws of testing and stress of bleak winter days, I will seek to catch the stories of both kids and adults. I will be brave enough to share deeply with those around me, moving from the surface story to the real story that lies in my heart and speaks from my soul. I will listen a little more closely, with tender ears that don't judge but remain memorized by the connections we can make with one another. I will help the people around me find power and comfort in their own voice and strength in their own story. I will embrace the uncertainty that comes with exposure and vulnerability in the space of sharing myself, trusting the compassion I know can exist in each one of us, while practicing being gracious when that does not come as a natural first response.

What is your story? Where does it start and how are you sharing the uniqueness of your journey? Are you able to risk enough pride and vulnerability to share these pieces of yourself with your community? At the end of the day, who really knows you, the deepest pieces of your heart? Let's all strive to connect deeper, reaching for that honesty that exists in the story of who we are. Let us trust that in stepping toward this experience we lay the foundation for our individual story, modeling the way for a stronger collective narrative to be crafted and nurtured in this same space.

A Challenge to Reveal

As I start my winter break, I have time to thoughtfully respond to a challenge that has been handed to me by both Rhoni McFarlane (@rhonimcfarlane) and Andrew Sharos (@AndrewSharosAPT). Never one to pass up a challenge, especially by two amazingly gifted educators, I am happy to reveal a little bit of myself to the world on this blog post.

HERE ARE THE RULES OF THE CHALLENGE:

1. Acknowledge the nominating blogger.
2. Share 11 random facts about yourself.
3. Answer the 11 questions the nominating blogger has created for you.
4. List 11 bloggers. They should be bloggers you believe deserve a little recognition and a little blogging love!
5. Post 11 questions for the bloggers you nominate to answer and let all the bloggers know they've been nominated. (You cannot nominate the blogger who nominated you.)

11 Random Facts About Me

1. My pinky fingers are crooked, pointed inwards at about a 45 degree angle. I am bow fingered. 
2. When I was 6, my mom vacuumed my hair up in a cleaning frenzy. It took her about forty-five minutes to unwind the vacuum from my scalp. Surprisingly there was minimal physical or physiological damage done. 
3. I attended four different high schools and had a quick stint with home schooling.
4. I have stood inside the prison cells of Nelson Mandela and Gandhi. 
5. When I was 18 I had my palms read by a gypsy women. She told me I would marry a man in the military who wears a blue uniform, and he would be “ahead of me in many years.” My husband spent 10 years the Air Force and is 9 years older than me... 
6. I hate being scared. More than that though, I hate when I am falsely frightened. The only thing worse than feeling fear is realizing you are not really being attacked, having your home broken into, or about to see a ghost, but that you are just a wimp. 
7. Stars are one of the most beautiful things I could ever imagine seeing. 
8. I turned down an opportunity to live and teach in India when I received a job offer to teach in Baltimore City. I still have mixed feelings about that decision.
9. I am incapable of staying awake through an entire movie.
10. I hate cold weather. I do not care for the seasons changing. I just want warm weather all year round.
11. I am addicted to caffeine. I drink between 4-6 cups of coffee during my work day. I drink red bull on my commute home. I am unwilling to critically look at this habit with any level of honesty or acknowledge how excessive this may be.

Rhoni and Andrew's Questions

1. Where is somewhere you have always wanted to travel?

I have always wanted to travel to India, Peru, The Galapagos Islands, and New Mexico.

2. What is something you keep that you should really throw out?

I have a pair of suede Adidas Gallezes that I purchased as a senior in high school. I will probably wear them until the the soles have holes. That hasn't happened yet...

3. What do you wish you did more of?

I wish I traveled more often.

4. Who is someone that you are grateful for but never tell them enough?

My sister. She is brilliant and beautiful. I am not good at communicating my gratitude to her.

5. What is your favorite quote about education?

"Create the things you wish existed." 

(This is really just a quote about life, but I think it applies to my views on education as well)

6. What are you most passionate about in life?

I am most passionate about connections and relationships. The people in my life, our conversations and connections, these things passionately drive and inspire me. I find myself yearning to build better connections, small and large, every day of my life. 

7. What is your favorite Sunday activity?

Family dinner with my parents, siblings, and our significant others. 

8. Who inspires you the most?

Recently, Amber Johnson, my teaching neighbor. She is one of the most gifted teachers I have ever met. She pushes my thinking, models extraordinary love for our students, and is one of the most creative thinkers I know. Plus, she is just a fantastic woman, great listener, and makes me laugh. I strive be better in all these areas, and she inspires that growth in me.

9. What advice would you give to someone interviewing for a job?

Be confident. If you are sitting in the interview chair, the company has already decided they like you. Prove them right!

10. What will classrooms look like in 20 years?

In 20 years I hope classrooms will are a thing of the past. I hope learning will be mobil and experience-based, taking place in the world in which we actually live. I hope schools will enable kids to learn in a variety of spaces that do not resemble our current classroom, but are more of a large home or community center.

11. Most significant historical event/sporting moment you've seen "live" in person?

The events of 9/11 are, unfortunately, the most significant historical event I have lived through. I was 15 years old and, to this day, I still have trouble communicating my emotions and reactions to those events.


Your Turn to Reveal

Below are 11 educators/bloggers that I am challenging to answer my questions.  I have nothing but respect for this group of people, and I hope they will reveal a little bit more about themselves with their posts!

1. Tara Copeman

2. Amber Johnson

3. Greg Heid

4. Bob Dillon

5. Matt Winner

6. Margaret Roth

7. David Saunders

8. Shelly Blake-Plock

9. Jared Wastler

10. Melinda Sears

11. Matt Goode

My Questions for You

I have to admit, I am cheating here. These questions were created by Ms. Johnson's 6th grade humanity students during their unit "What does it mean to be human?"  These are the big, beautiful questions our students are asking, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for us to try and figure out a few of them here. Good luck!

1. What was an experience that changed your life?
2. If you could go back in time, what would you change?
3. Have you ever been heartbroken?
4. What keeps you going in life?
5. What is something that you are not proud of?
6. If you were able to do something good for the world, what would it be?
7. What age do you think was your best age? Do you think you would want to be that age again?
8. What was the most painful moment in your life?
9. Are you proud of yourself?
10. If you could have something back, what would it be?
11. What’s happening in the world that you are completely against?

The Beauty in Sharing

"It is with you that I discover me."

The world is full of beauty. All around us there are magnificent wonders to take in, scaled both small and large. Often, I miss the small moments. Call it oversight, call me absent minded. Usually, I am just too consumed with my own concerns to see what is in front of me at any given moment. 

Recently, I was given a challenge: Find something beautiful that is right in front of you. My perspective shifted as I was observing my everyday world. I began to see beautiful things all around me. Things I looked at everyday, for years, took on a new shape. I was taken aback by the small details I had been missing for so long. The colors in a mural. The architecture on the church out my window. The sky over the park. How could I have missed so much for so long? 

Once I began to see the world around me, something strange happened within me. I was unable to keep this beauty to myself. I felt compelled to share my view with the people around me. This beauty, quiet and divine, was incomplete left in my hands, yet grew in strength when given away to another. Together, when shared, the stunning knowledge and observations of the world around us multiples. 

In our connected world, let us not forget to see the beauty in our own spaces. The small moments of smiles, nature, thoughts shared, and laughter. What is your perspective in your daily life and is it beautiful enough to share with others? What small details are you missing? What is left overlooked that is shinning to be seen?

As the craziness of the winter holidays rushes us through our days, I will vow to take time slow down, to pay attention to the small moments. In these moments, I will be selfless enough to reach out and give it away to another. It is through sharing that true beauty is revealed, pure hearts are shown, and we are able to learn the most about our own humanity.

Building a Village #SAVMP

As teachers, we cannot educate our kids alone. I am often awed when I think about how limited my own experiences are, and how important it is to bring varying points of view into my own students' learning. My students and I are lucky to be surrounded by such a diverse population within our school and community.

One of our greatest resources is the wide-range of perspectives our parents can bring to our school community. As a middle school teacher, it isn't often we get parent volunteers in our classrooms, as this is often mortifying for our adolescents. But, our school is really great at engaging parents outside of the classroom.

Last week we hosted two major events that attracted a lot of parents. The first, our annual Reading Night, invited parents to learn about reading strategies they could use at home with their children. This was completely organized by rum teachers, but the students were really at the center of the event. The teachers and students worked with parents to guide them through fun and powerful fluency-building activities that could be used at home.

For the middle school portion of this evening, we have four times as many students as parents for the session. The students demonstrated our readers theater and repeated reading strategies. They answered parent questions and guided them through the lessons. It was amazing to see our students engage with adults with such confidence.

PPPCS Reading Night

Two days later we hosted our school's first ever Astronomy Night. This event was very special because it was nurtured out of our FedEx Professional Development Day. Our science teacher, and novice astronomer, wanted to marry his passion for space and our schools amazing Sky Lab open roof-top space. Thus, Astronomy Night was born.

This event attracted enough people to completely fill our science lab. For two hours parents and children rotated through the never-dying line to look at the moon through a telescope. Many people there told me this was the first time they had looked at anything in the night's sky through a telescope. Children and adults alike were in awe of the power of both technology and our natural universe.

PPPCS Astronomy Night

At a time in history when we have more information and resources available than ever before, we need not overlook the power that comes from gathering a community together. Parents are the most powerful force in our students lives. They love them more than we will ever be able to, so we must partner with them to help foster experiences and growth in our kids. We must help grow our parents through new experiences, support them in learning, and guide them in helping our students in all areas of life.

How are we encouraging parents to grow alongside their children? How do we empower our parents to be a connected resource for our school community? How we provide opportunities for our village to build an unshakable foundation in the vision of supporting our students? If your school lacks parental involvement, how do you tap into your parents' collective passions to build a village and strengthen learning?

As we move into the holiday season, remember that parents often need support and encouragement just as much as our students. Offering opportunities to bring parents together, build community, and connect people can have an intense impact on the work we all do with our kids. Remember that a kind word, a short note, and smile and invitation to be part of something bigger can provide opportunities to cement a foundation of strength for our families.

Thinning the Walls of Our Hearts

It is almost inconceivable when I think about the uniqueness of my school. Our story, our growth, our mission, every person involved in growing our kids. Every aspect of Patterson Park Public Charter School is deeply rooted in what is best for our students and the community we serve. At the foundation of this is the belief in educating the whole child. The heart and soul of what we do surrounds a mission that strives to reach the emotional, academic, physical, and creative needs of our children. I cannot imagine working towards a greater mission for my students.

Last week I traveled to Philadelphia with our 8th graders. The expectation is that our grade-level teams plan at least one thematically-connected field each quarter for our students. Needless to say, we take field trips pretty seriously around PPPCS. So, we packed the kids up onto the bus at 6am and headed across state lines. 

It felt good, traveling with my students and being out of the building. Field trips are always fun, but something about this trip felt different. This particular trip involved a much smaller group of students, just half of the 8th grade class, which equalled about 24 kids. It was also a trip that correlated with social studies content, as we were walking in the footsteps of our Founding Fathers that day. Thematically, the trip addressed our first quarter theme of "Breaking Traditions," but I was a little out of my elements. I felt excited to learn right along with my students. 

What I learned during this trip was not just content, it was experiential and it was powerful.

As we smoothly road along to Philly, we threw a movie and the kids immediately settled in. Some watching the screens, some listening to music, others quietly having discussions with friends. The bus was almost silent. Anyone that has ever been on a bus with twenty-four 8th graders can attest to the strangeness of the situation I am describing. It was calm, peaceful, and we road in ease.

At we moved out of Maryland, the sun began to rise. Crossing a large bridge, the sunrise beamed into the bus. I quickly grabbed my phone to snap a picture of the beautiful scene. As I turned to share my love for this sight with the kids, I saw something striking- we were all doing the same thing. The kids had grabbed their phones and were taking pictures of the scene in front of them. I felt so connected my students sharing this moment and reaction to beauty. 

As we made our way through Philly, we had so much to do and see. It was an action packed day. Our social studies teacher was thoughtful and strategic in his planning for us. We viewed the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, Constitution Hall, the Benjamin Franklin Museum, in addition to some guided tours. We got to explore our country's powerful and foundational history, that which our freedom's rest upon. It was a great day of learning.

In reflecting upon this trip, though, it felt deeper than all those things mentioned above. It felt stronger and more meaningful. For me, I was a learner among learner on this trip. I smiles, laughed, and complained right along with the kids. At one point during the trip, we sat through a lesson about archaeology. I was very in tune to my students and my own habits throughout the presentation. When the kids were excited and engaged, so was I. When the content was a little too heavy, we felt bored. When a student cracked a joke at something the presenter said, I'm pretty sure I laughed the loudest and was the most disruptive. 

I am just like my students. I learn like them. I am amazed like them. I am bored like them. I am hungry when they get hungry. We laugh at the same things and find beauty in the same places.

When I allow myself to collide with my students, breaking down barriers created by knowing everything and I take an attitude of a learner, I discovered more about myself than I ever expected. When we experience the world together, we experience connections that did not exist before. I was always the trusted adult on that trip, I guided and led the way. Even then, a few key kids were better at directions than me and made sure we really went the right way. 

I came away from this trip with such an immense respect for my students and colleagues. We engaged in an experience that allowed me to trust and embrace others' strengths, see so much beauty, and learn more about myself and others.

How are we allowing ourselves and our students to learn about the world around us? What experiences are we giving our students, and are we fully engaging in them ourselves? What are our students teaching us? What can we learn from them? Are we leaving our own isolated world of the classroom often enough to be stunned by the beauty that surrounds us? What are we learning to learn?

Moving forward, I will remember that the experience is more important than the answers. The feelings are more important than the content. Our actions together lead to greater understanding, trust, and connections based upon our individual needs and strength. I will strive to thin the walls of not only my classroom, but my heart. When my heart is open is when the real learning happens. Let's open our hearts together and discover a deeper truth about ourselves and our world.