Traveling to a New Place Changes How We See

 “Change how you see and see how you change.”—Japanese Zen proverb

 

I just returned from a trip to Tokyo, Japan. I was attending a Teachers College Reading and Writing Project (TCRWP) Institute for Inquiry-Based International Schools: A Deep Study of Multilingualism, Culturally Responsive Teaching, and Inquiry. I am a passionate lifelong learner, in part, because I believe as educators, we must continue to engage in the type of learning we are asking of our students. Consequently, I have intentionally sought out diverse learning experiences that stretch me by stepping out of my comfort zone. While attending this institute, I felt validated by the work I have already done to develop a substantial breadth and depth of knowledge and experiences. I was also simultaneously humbled by all I have yet to learn. The staff developers from TCRWP are truly expert educators who are extremely knowledgeable and ground their craft in research. Every lesson they teach is effective and efficient because they consistently, masterfully, and seamlessly teach in a way that weaves all that they know into a lesson. Although this institute was no exception, I think my most profound learning from this trip occurred on a much more personal level.

 

I traveled to Tokyo by myself. It was the first time I traveled internationally alone. It was both exciting and scary at the same time. Despite my best efforts to plan and even though I had a colleague whom I met at a research conference years earlier meet me at the airport to help, the culture shock was overwhelming. Some might say it was traumatic. I have come to dislike that word—trauma. We often think of trauma as a BIG event (which this probably met that criteria), but I think that word often diminishes the ‘trauma’ that comes with chronic stress and anxiety that we (both educators and students) feel every day. The stress and anxiety that each of us feels is a very personal thing that takes a very real toll on our emotional, physical, and mental well-being. When I think of Marc Brackett’s Mood Meter (which I share with my class every year) in his book,Permission to Feel: Unlocking the Power of Emotions to Help Our Kids, Ourselves, and Our Society Thrive, stress and anxiety are in the red zone—meaning those feelings can often cause our brain to shut down in a way that inhibits our ability to learn. Brain researchers might refer to being in the red zone as an ‘amygdala hijack,’ or a time when all “cognitive functions such as learning, problem solving, or creative thinking stop” (Hammond, 2015).  Brain researchers also remind us that our brain function works better when we have the opportunity to work and learn alongside others.

 

I mistakenly assumed that arranging for my transportation back to the airport would be easy once I arrived at the institute. I thought there would be other attendees that were headed to the airport, so we would be able to travel together. Nope! None of the other attendees were headed to the airport at the same time. No problem, the hotel would probably have transportation. Nope! Not to the airport I had traveled through. TCRWP organizers said the limousine bus was cheap and easy. Nope! Even the attendees living in Japan could not navigate the website. A taxi would be extremely expensive because the airport I flew into was two hours away by car. That left the train. The intricate system of trains is a great option for those living in the country, but for an outsider—can you say HIGH learning curve! I was close to having a panic attack. I have a doctoral level education and I felt myself emotionally, physically, and mentally shut down. How was I going to get to the airport—to get home? The hotel staff was very kind and helpful, but they made the train option sound so simple. For me it did not feel simple, so boy did I feel stupid.

 

The next morning, I shared my problem with the fellow attendees at my table. Everyone at the table immediately opened their computers and began searching for options that I felt comfortable with to help me get to the airport. Long story short, another attendee spent almost two hours walking me to the train station, helping me find an express train (no scary transfers), assisting me in buying the correct ticket, and showing me around the train station. He stayed with me until I felt comfortable navigating the process on my own. I was SO moved by the kindness and humanity of others! 

 

I wanted to hold onto those feelings I was experiencing. The feelings of anxiety, stress, and helplessness that I am sure some of my students experience every day. I wanted to remember that has teachers what we teach has become so second nature to us, that we forget how difficult it can feel to others who are trying to learn. I wanted to understand what other attendees/educators did to help me overcome those feelings and learn, so that I could do the same for the kids in my classroom. I wanted to do this because this trip changed how I see, so that I could change and do better for the kids (and families) I serve.

 

As the learner in this situation, I felt alone. I knew that I had to execute a move independently with little or no time/practice. I initially felt stupid asking others for help when they didn’t validate my feelings, even though they were trying to be helpful, and made it sound easy because it was for them. I felt myself start to shut down when I needed to open up and persist in processing information to figure out the problem. 

 

As an educator, I notice my new friends use the following educator moves: 

·      First, and foremost, they validated my feelings. They shared similar experiences, so I didn’t feel stupid.

·      Because I no longer felt stupid, I felt comfortable asking probing questions and having a discussion. This freed my mind to engage in problem solving.

·      We worked together to find a solution and create a plan/strategy that fit my needs and worked for me (individualized learning at my level of need and understanding).

·      My ‘teacher’ friend was not a ‘sage on the stage,’ instead he walked alongside of me—coaching and supporting me until I felt comfortable to take over the learning independently. 

·      During the entire process there was always an unspoken assumption/expectation that I could achieve this task. The learning was not ‘dumbed down,’ instead it was scaffolded up. This was HUGE!

 

I hope I can hold onto what I have learned, from the institute and from my new educator friends, and apply it in my classroom. I am grateful for this profound experience. I am grateful for positive affirming relationships. I am grateful for the power of perspective and how it helps us change for the better.

 

 

 

Brackett, M. (2019). Permission to feel: Unlocking the power of emotions to help our kids, ourselves, and our society thrive. New York, NY: Celadon Books.

 

Hammond, Z. (2015). Culturally responsive teaching and the brain: Promoting authentic engagement and rigor among culturally and linguistically diverse students. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

A Year of Professional Reading and Learning

Happy New Year! As with most people, the new year is a time for me to pause and reflect as well as set goals for the future. Since I am a bibliophile and lifelong reader, one major area of reflection and goal setting for me is my literacy habits. (The other major area is my weight/health, but we are going to steer clear of that topic for obvious reasons – LOL!) 

My reading goal for the past few years has been to read at least one book a week and to try to read widely. I don’t want to read more (quantity), I want to read more deeply (quality). To accomplish this goal, I “read” (on Audible) adult books for enjoyment while driving to and from work every day. Mysteries are by far my favorite genre. At home, I alternate between reading books that go into my fifth-grade classroom library and professional books. Since I work too many hours a day during the week (that is a whole other conversation), the bulk of my reading at home occurs on the weekends when I have a little more flexibility and can relax in a quiet house with a book and a cup of coffee. I have also tried to set goals, unsuccessfully I might add, to finish some of my “to be read” piles around the house—there are a lot. I start to dig in and then get distracted by a new book that as just been released or a book recommendation from a friend. I firmly believe that part of my job as a classroom teacher is to know books that are available for kids and read as many as I can with my kids—it helps me to responsibility match a book with a reader. For the most part, I have been successful at achieving my reading goal over the years. 

Another goal of mine is to write more consistently. This is a goal that I have had a lot of trouble reaching. It is a goal that I have set with two reasons in mind. First, I firmly believe that teachers of reading and writing need to be readers and writers themselves. If I cannot accomplish what I am asking my kids to do in the classroom, then I need to rethink how I am teaching readers and writers. I want my kids to read; when appropriate, annotate or take notes (research suggestions sketch notes are the best); and then synthesize what they learned by sharing their thinking to others (can be in any modality – writing, discussion, podcast, presentation, etc.). Not with every book of course, sometimes we all need to read just for enjoyment with no strings attached. But much of what we read, fiction and nonfiction, should move us, change us, inspire us, and call us to action.

Second, even though I have read so many powerful professional books (this list is just a fraction of my professional reading), I am reflecting on how well I have put the knowledge I have gleaned from those books into practice—and isn’t that the point? How have I processed that knowledge? How can I use what I know to help and inspire others? To that end, I have selected the “Top 12 Professional Books That Have Profoundly Changed My Thinking and Teaching.” I want to reread them, and make sure that I am implementing at least one nugget from each into my practice. I invite you to join me in reading and reflecting upon these books. I challenge you to also try to implement one nugget from each into your practice.

Here is my list (and it was not easy to choose):

Top 12 Professional Books that have Profoundly Changed My Thinking and Teaching

• 1.    Cultivating Genius, An Equity Framework for Culturally and Historically Responsive Literacy by Gholdy Muhammad (Scholastic, 2020)
• 2.    Read the World: Rethinking Literacy for Empathy and Action in a Digital Age by Kristin Ziemke & Katie Muhtaris (Heinemann, 2020)
• 3.    Igniting a Passion for Reading: Successful Strategies for Building Lifetime Readers by Steven Layne (Stenhouse, 2009)
• 4.    Reading in the Wild: The Book Whisperer’s Keys to Cultivating Lifelong Reading Habits by Donalyn Miller with Susan Kelley (Jossey-Bass, 2014)
• 5.   Beyond Leveled Books: Supporting Early and Transitional Readers in Grades K-5 by Karen Szymusiak, Frani Sibberson, & Lisa Koch (Stenhouse, 2008)
• 6.  DIY Literacy: Teaching Tools for Differentiation, Rigor, and Independence by Kate Roberts and Maggie Beattie Roberts (Heinemann, 2016)
• 7.  This Book is Anti-Racist: 20 Lessons on How to Wake Up, Take Action, and Do the Work by Tiffany Jewell (Frances Lincoln Children’s Books, 2020)
• 8.  Engaging Children: Igniting a Drive for Deeper Learning K-8 by Ellin Oliver Keene (Heinemann, 2018)
• 9.  Unlocking the Power of Classroom Talk: Teaching Kids to Talk with Clarity and Purpose by Shana Frazin & Katy Wischow (Heinemann, 2020)
• 10Punish by Rewards: The Trouble with Gold Stars, Incentive Plans, A’s Praise, and Other Bribes by Alfie Kohn (Houghton Mifflin Company, 1993
• 11Permission to Feel: Unlocking the Power of Emotions to Help Our Kids, Ourselves, and Our Society Thrive by Marc Brackett, Ph.D. Celadon Books, 2019)
• 12Start Here, Start Now: A Guide to Antibias and Antiracist Work in Your School Community by Liz Kleinrock (Heinemann, 2021)

I look forward to reading (or rereading) and learning alongside of you this year. Happy Reading!

Why Do Teachers Cry?

I am a crier. I cry easily. I think people often mistake my tears for weakness; however, I don’t think of myself as a weak person. Since the beginning of this school year, I have witnessed SO MANY colleagues cry, but I have not sat at the desk in my classroom and cried. I am not sure why I have not cried except that instead of feeling overwhelmed like many of my colleagues, their tears have fueled my passion to advocate for change in the field of education. We need to reimagine our educational systems. We need to reimagine the role teachers play within those systems. We need to reimagine how we educate the amazing human beings that will become the future of our country—of our world.

 

In August, I was accepted as an Associate Member of The Educator Collaborative, which is an educational Think Tank. In October, I participated in my first Think Tank meeting. Christopher Lehman, founder of The Educator Collaborative, led our first Think Tank discussion. He began by acknowledging that many of the teachers he knows are really struggling to be educators right now—feeling anxious, frustrated, overwhelmed—so they often find themselves crying. He proceeded to read the picture book Why Do We Cry? by Fran Pintadera and Ana Sender. As he was reading this beautiful picture book, most of us started crying. Then he directed us to an activity in the back of the book: “…each one [tear] is unique…If these tears could talk, what story do you think they’d tell?” We took some time to write about our tears and spent much of the remaining time sharing our stories and feelings with each other. 

 

What a POWERFUL message Lehman sent each of us and what a gift he gave us that night—Permission to Feel! (BTW – this is also the title of an amazing book Permission to Feel: Unlocking the Power of Emotions to Help Our Kids, Ourselves, and Our Society Thrive by Marc Brackett, Ph.D.) He did NOT tell us to manage our work/life balance or practice self-care, which would have placed the blame for our feelings on each of us instead of on the system that is causing these feelings. He simply gave us permission to feel and provided an environment to feel seen, heard, appreciated, and valued. It certainly didn’t solve our problems, or the problems that plague the field of education, but it felt cathartic. It was a start.

 

Last school year, I participated, with 27,000 other teachers, in a Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence research study led by Marc Brackett. Some of the findings were reported during the TCRWP Calkins Supper Club that I attend every week. Brackett said that the study revealed that the number one thing teachers want to feel right now is appreciated. He talked about how showing appreciation begins by just giving people permission to feel. He went on to say that school leaders don’t have to have all the answers, but they do have to be authentic and can validate feelings by showing they have actively listened. Talking with teachers, not to teachers, about potential solutions is a first step for leaders as they begin to show support by acting. Brackett also explained that the perception of authentic support can have more impact on the emotions we feel than actually solving the problem(s). 

 

His words made me reflect on another book, Culturally Responsive Teaching & The Brain: Promoting Authentic Engagement and Rigor Among Culturally and Linguistically Diverse Students by Zaretta Hammond. In the book, Hammond describes the cultural archetypes of individualism versus collectivism and how they each impact the brain. The field of education provides the best opportunities for learning and growth when it functions collectively as an inclusive community: focusing on interdependence for group success, taking care of each other to facilitate growth, learning through interaction and dialogue, and emphasizing relationship building. But the field of education, like America, is becoming increasingly individualized and polarized. The optics, the value systems talked about (diversity, equity, inclusion, social emotional learning, trauma-informed teaching, collaboration, etc.), represent a belief in the collectivism archetype; however, dig a little deeper and you will find actions that value the competitive hierarchical traits of individualism. 

 

Hammond goes on to explain that the default setting in our brain will “avoid threats to safety at all costs and seek well-being at every opportunity” (p. 37). When our brain, which is scanning our environment and memories for possible threats 24/7, identifies any threat to our safety, it activates the “fight, flight, freeze, or appease” responses. When these responses are activated; learning, problem solving, creative thinking, and our ability to organize and self-regulate STOP. Our ability to effectively work towards collectivism is greatly diminished. 

 

Teachers are crying because they do not feel safe. Their personal and professional well-being are being threatened on many levels. Here are just a few of the many ways teachers feel threatened and traumatized, which is in turn impacting their ability to serve students:  

·       Teachers, particularly classroom teachers, are being asked to comply with expectations that are literally impossible to achieve. There is simply not enough time in the day or week(end). Teachers are essentially working two full-time jobs: one full-time job working with students (actual contact hours) and one full-time job working during planning times, lunches, mornings, evenings, and weekends—meetings, lesson planning, grading, collaborating, and more. Teachers are exhausted.

·       Despite being in a pandemic, schools are trying to return to “normal.” This year educators are expected, and being evaluated on their ability, to accomplish more than in a “normal” school year—to accelerate learning closing the “learning loss” gap that has occurred during the pandemic. To be clear, “learning loss” is a false narrative.

·       In an attempt to close the “learning loss” gap and improve standardized test scores, teachers are directed to learn new curriculum, programs, and technology. To accomplish this goal, educators are further directed to participate in a barrage of professional development. To repeat, learning cannot occur when the brain is feeling overwhelmed, threatened, or traumatized. 

·       Teachers are responsible for ensuring that ALL students are seen, heard, and valued in the classroom. The passage of racist anti-Critical Race Theory laws coupled with the violence that has escalated over what educators are, and are not, teaching regarding the history of our country has compromised the ability of teachers to create an inclusive classroom. The “truths” about history need to be viewed and understood from ALL perspectives. That said, not all perspectives warrant the same time and weight. (For example, there are not two sides to the holocaust or slavery.) History, like a good story, should make us feel a wide range of emotions (we need to give students permission to feel all of those emotions), which drive us to act in order to create a better future. 

·       Staffing shortages have created the expectation that teachers will not only fulfill their primary jobs but also help fill-in for missing staff members. In addition, districts have increased the number of involuntary transfers from one grade-level or position to another (which means more new things to learn). Both circumstances are often perceived by educators as punitive in nature. It takes several years to develop a deep understanding of grade-level curriculum and differentiate to meet the needs of students, so these situations only serve to further traumatize teachers and inhibit their ability to help students learn and grow.

·       Many early career teachers have not had the opportunity to teach during a “normal” school year. Despite attempts to support early career teachers with mentors and professional development, they are overwhelmed and in survival mode—many will probably leave the profession after this year (while more experienced teachers are making plans to retire).

·       Lack of trust—from parents, to administrators, to school boards, and the public. Despite being degreed professionals in the trenches, teachers are being left out of the decision-making process, micromanaged, and evaluated on every level. It is estimated that teachers make 1,500+ decisions a day. Decisions that are repeatedly being second guessed and/or evaluated means teachers are not granted the professional respect and autonomy they deserve.

·       Students are coming to school with their own trauma, often presenting as behavior issues—some extreme in nature. This problem is exacerbated by any lack of student accountability or proper support for the trauma. (NOTE: restorative justice is NOT an administrator talking to a student for a few minutes and sending them back to class.)

·       COVID, gun violence, polarized angry parents, and so much more.

 

Group emails referring to us as heroes and providing staff treats are nice but do not provide educators with authentic support, instead they further perpetuate the perception that there is a lack of respect and appreciation. As I thought about so many of my colleagues struggling every day, crying every day, I wanted to PAY IT FORWARD—to share a beautiful picture book about the power of our tears and give others Permission to Feel! If you do not own the book, Why Do We Cry? By Fran Pintadera and Ana Sender, I highly recommend getting a copy to read and reread—and engage in a good cry!

 

During our Think Tank meeting when we were writing about our tears, I vividly remembered the last year of my doctoral program—I was TOTALLY exhausted, and I cried A LOT! One of our last classes was on how to design professional development and deliver different types of presentations. A member of my cohort, a dear friend—Dr. Julie Hoffman, wrote her keynote on the power of tears (which was SO timely for all of us in the cohort). She said, “that our tears make us WARRIORS!” It became our mantra during the last difficult months of our doctoral program. Your tears make you a warrior! Strong and courageous. To all the educators out there feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and unsafe, fight for your right to feel the full range of your emotions. Fight for your right to once again cry tears of JOY! Being a teacher, curiously exploring the world and learning alongside of our students, should feel JOYFUL! Know that on some level—you are seen, heard, appreciated, and valued. YOU MATTER!

 

Happy New School Year, 2021-22: My Reflections, Thoughts, and Musings

 Happy New School Year, 2021-22!

 

Every year, it still amazes me how quickly “the change” occurs—from feeling summer rested to school exhausted. Even though I am always super excited to head back into the classroom with kids, there is still no exhaustion—physical, mental, and emotional—like beginning of the school year exhausted! It usually takes me three to four weeks into the school year to reacclimate. Teaching within a pandemic has added a whole new layer to my beginning of the school year exhaustion. As I reflect on the first three weeks of this school year, my mind is overloaded—What has gone well? What would I do differently? There is SO much to consider about what is happening in the field of education and its impact in my classroom. One thing that immediately stands out to me is the sheer volume of interruptions that occur every day in a classroom and the effects of those interruptions on building relationships, routines, and learning.

 

It might help for me to provide a little more context as to why the volume of interruptions really stands out to me this year. Last year, due to the pandemic, our district began the school year utilizing a fully remote instructional model. Our instructional day with kids was approximately five hours long with a 45-minute lunch break in the middle of the learning day. By the end of October, we had begun making the transition to a hybrid learning schedule. Some students attended school in-person for three hours in the morning and completed independent work in the afternoon. Then we had a 45-minute lunch break. After completing independent work in the morning, the remainder of the students received virtual instruction in the afternoon—a repeat of the lessons taught to the in-person students in the morning. What I now realize I took for granted last year was that within our pandemic instructional model there were almost no interruptions, so we were able to get “in flow (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997)” and maximize our learning time.

 

This year began with fully in-person learning. Although I recognize that in-person learning is better and necessary, we are still living in a pandemic. The delta variant causing multiple kids to miss large chunks of instruction. I also recognize that the beginning of a school year includes more interruptions because the schedule and routines are still being created and revised. But, I have been taken aback at the sheer volume of interruptions and the impact they have already had on building relationships, establishing routines, and beginning our learning. I have been taken aback by how that speaks to our priorities in education. I already feel “behind.” After experiencing more than a year of disruption to “normal” learning, it seems particularly important this year to minimize the number of interruptions—our relationship building, and learning, depend on minimal interruptions. 

 

After rereading the ASCD article “The Hidden Cost of Classroom Interruptions” by Matthew A. Kraft published on June 1, 2020, I feel more validated in my concerns. Based on his research, Kraft states, “Small interruptions and the disruptions they cause can add up to a considerable amount of lost learning time. … Scaling these estimates [of lost learning time] by 5.5 hours per day and 180 school days per year suggests that students will lose between 10 and 20 days of instructional time over the course of the year. This is enough time to categorize every student in the district as truant or even chronically absent—all while they are in school.” And, this does not even account for the amount of time teachers are then expected to reteach material missed due to the interruptions. I also found it interesting that Kraft found most administrators did not see the volume of interruptions as a significant problem when he states, “administrators estimated 58 percent fewer interruptions per day than actually occurred.”

 

So, I am following Kraft’s advice and conducting my own mini-inquiry into the types of interruptions occurring in my classroom and documenting the effects they are having on our relationship building and learning experiences with the hopes of sharing my findings here and with my principal. I tend to think big picture and then operationalize my thinking. I believe creating some school-wide systems, and also making some classroom adjustments, can address this issue and maximize our much needed educational time—particularly this year!

What I Learned About Parent Teacher Conferences This Year

Typically, I dread Parent Teacher Conferences. Not only are the days long, but I also feel a sense of anxiety related to the unknowns like how will parents react to what I share? “What I share….” Even though in the past I have endeavored to have the kids “participate,” I have come to learn there is a drastic difference between having them participate and empowering kids to lead the conference. Conferences are especially powerful when kids can articulate their learning goals, opportunities for growth, and fully take ownership of their explaining their learning.  

The pandemic forced many teachers into virtual Parent Teacher Conferences that looked a little different this year. The shifts I made to support virtual conferences, and a shift in my attitude or perspective, changed the tone of the conferences. Unknowingly, I made several improvements to the conference format, but there are still many more changes I can make to continue to make them more authentic and meaningful. 

 

My district/school had Parent Teacher Conferences this past week. What a great day!!! A long day, but I great day! I got to spend my day bragging on twenty-one amazing kids to their parents. What an honor and privilege to be their teacher!

 

Every single child has accomplished something that we can brag about to their parents. That shift from starting the conference with a positive, but ultimately still focusing on the deficits, to FULLY celebrating the child as a human being and mentioning an opportunity for growth, really made a difference. A subtle shift with a BIG impact. 

 

It also helped that the kids used the structured PowerPoint template I gave them to create their own slide deck for the conference. Since they created their own slide deck, which included work samples that they took pride in sharing, they were eager to take over the conference (instead of briefly participating while I talked).

 

This year, the pandemic gave me one other major talking point. Parents need to hear a counter-narrative to the message that has been repeated over and over again in the media—It breaks my teacher heart to hear the media talk about “learning loss.” What I have witnessed isn’t loss but growth, maturity, independence, resilience, technical savvy, ability to multitask... and so much more. We need to celebrate kids and all of their amazing accomplishments this past year, many of which don’t appear on a report card or standardized tests. 

 

I still have a long way to go. Moving towards a gradeless classroom that is more focused on learning—the process and not necessarily the products—will continue to move my conferences forward. The kids were definitely more invested in conferences this year, which was AWESOME! It might be helpful to give them more options to creatively share what they have accomplished. I also want to find ways to involve parents not only during Parent Teacher Conferences, but in our learning community throughout the year. 

The Beauty of Mathematics: A Continuum

 “Mathematics reveals its secrets only to those who approach it with pure love, 

for its own beauty.”  Archimedes

 

 

I think most people who are reading this article have at one point or another made the following comment, “I don’t understand this ‘new-fangled’ (Common Core) math. This is not how I learned math when I was in school.” I know that I have repeated this comment more times than I care to admit. As a teacher of mathematics, I have had to learn math from a whole new perspective in order to teach it to my students. As a bibliophile, lover of books, I have never quite felt the same love for math that I feel for literacy. Even though I may not love math the same way I love literacy, I have grown to appreciate its beauty. I have come to understand math is also about storytelling with a language that is both universal and unique.

 

Literacy expert Louise Rosenblatt (1978) distinguishes between two types of reading: efferent and aesthetic. The stances represent opposite ends of a continuum. I believe the same is true for mathematics. When a student is viewing math from an efferent stance, he or she is engaging in math for pragmatic reasons. For example, completing a calculation using a traditional algorithm to efficiently solve a problem like 12 x 5 = 60. At the opposite end of the continuum, a student who is viewing math from an aesthetic stance finds joy, pure love, in curiously exploring the beauty of math.

 

What is beauty? Merriam-Webster defines beauty as, “the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit.” Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Not sure who first said that famous quote, but I do know that sometimes we pass by beautiful people, or things, because we don’t take the time to stop, notice, reflect, and wonder. I have come to learn that “mathematics is not about numbers, equations, computations, or algorithms: it is about understanding”—William Paul Thurston. Math is orderly, sublimely pure, and perfect. The simplicity of math can be found everywhere (see pictures below). The University College London has used brain scans to show that complex mathematical equations, or formulas, can evoke the same sense of “beauty” as an artistic masterpiece or music from a great composer. My job as an educator is to help my students efficiently and accurately calculate numbers, equations, computations, or algorithms, as well as look for the universal beauty in math. My job as an educator is to help my students understand and appreciate that beauty, because mathematics is not just a worksheet, it inhabits the world all around us. 

 

According to Stahl and Nagy (2007), “Language is a key component in the learning process. People’s perceptions of the world are largely shaped by their vocabulary knowledge. Indeed, words are the tools we use to access our background knowledge, express ideas, and learn new concepts” (p. 4). Students can solve equations with little effort, or vocabulary knowledge, using a calculator (efferent stance). I need to also help my students develop the language they need to communicate their mathematical thinking beyond that of calculating a simple equation (aesthetic stance).

 

This “new-fangled” math is definitely not the math I learned in school. This “new-fangled” math reveals secrets that open a world of possibilities and opportunities far exceeding any numbers, equations, computations, or algorithms. It requires language, storytelling, processing skills, critical thinking, creativity, perseverance, and teamwork. All skills necessary for success in the global society we live in today. What a gift students have been given that I rarely had access to when I learned math. After being cooped up all winter due to the weather and COVID-19, take a moment to go outside with your child and explore the beauty of math in all its forms. What mathematical beauty do you notice? What do you wonder? What words can you use to tell the story of math? The real-world applications of math are endless!

Reflections While Walking

Where I live, we have been having periods of very hot and humid days, so instead of walking outside, I have walked on the treadmill in my basement. A couple of days ago, we got a little bit of a break from the heat and humidity, so I returned to the outdoors for my daily walk. I live in a subdivision that doesn’t have streets in a grid with sidewalks. We have streets and paths that wind around man-made ponds, parks, and playgrounds. 

As I was out walking, I realized there was a huge difference in my mental well-being, spirit, and energy being outside for a walk. Something about being outside allows me time to reflect, think, and ultimately calms my mind. Living in a pandemic means being confined to my house for long periods of time. I have rarely left my house for weeks at a time. So being outside—hearing the birds sing, seeing the blue sky, feeling the shade of the trees, and smelling the dampness of the air—fills my soul that has been emptied from the constant confinement.

I started to reflect on various periods throughout history and what it must have been like for others who were confined by circumstances beyond their control or because they were denied their freedoms. For example, how did slaves fill their souls? How did Jews survive in concentrations camps? Although I have been confined to my house for four months, it is not the same as those who survived confinement throughout history because I have still enjoy many of the comforts that my white privilege has afforded me. When I consider the atrocities that have occurred throughout history that caused some to be confined, my heart breaks for so many. There are times when I simply cannot understand how one human being can do the things that have been done to another human being. And, I am curious how those who have survive those confining atrocities filled their souls. We need those voices now—the world needs to fill, to heal, its soul. 

Then my mind wandered to what school would be like in the fall. Several weeks earlier, I completed an intensive week-long institute on reading. The learning was amazing, but sitting, confined, in a chair on my computer all day for 8 or 9 hours straight was really difficult—and I am an adult. How will kids sit for hours at a time confined to a chair in school? I could at least get up and go to the bathroom or get a snack when I needed a short break, but in school this fall that will probably not be an option for our kids. I was so relieved when the week of learning was over, because I wasn’t sure how long I could maintain that level of confinement (in my chair) and engagement. How will our kids be able to maintain this level of confinement and learn for months on end? As much as I believe that the best learning takes place face-to-face, and that remote learning was far from ideal, I cannot believe in-person school will afford us any of the benefits we typically enjoy with face-to-face learning. I believe teachers and students will feel to traumatized to feel safe OR to learn. 

Then I started thinking about how we help kids feel safe and engage in the process of learning. My brilliant friend, Ellin Oliver Keene, wrote a book Engaging Children: Igniting a Drive for Deeper Learning K-8. After spending hours observing children, Keene identifies how kids move from compliance, to participation, incited by motivation (What’s in it for me?), and fully absorbed in engaged learning (What’s in it for us?). Within engagement, she developed a theory that includes four pillars: intellectual urgency, emotional resonance, perspective bending, aesthetic world (think, feel, believe, act). I started thinking, how can educators use Keene’s theory of engagement and our current life situation to help kids feel safe despite the traumatic circumstances and learn? For me, when I am engaged in authentic learning (thinking, feeling, believing, acting), I feel like I have some control over a situation which affords me some level /feeling of safety. I think it can be done—instead of avoiding our life situation we can use it to teach content and provide kids with some sense of control and safety. 

But engagement, high levels of engagement, cannot be sustained all of the time. Engagement is kind of like bi-polar disorder, the higher the level of engagement, the hard the crash and burn. I have experienced this firsthand after completing my dissertation. Whoa! —talk about crash and burn! Something Keene did not address in her book but is incumbent upon educators to teach children is finding balance. We need to explicitly teach how to reach and sustain engagement, but we also need to instruct students in how to find balance and advocate for their needs. When we reach and sustain high levels of engagement, we also need to counter that with moments of rest and calm and sometimes those moments are found in simply being compliant. 

I was left with the question, how to I help children, and colleagues, find ways to advocate for themselves when they need balance—from the confinement of their chair in the COVID-19 classroom? If we are going to sustain teaching and learning, we are going to need to find ways to balance periods of intensity with periods of calm. I guess it is time to go for another walk.