Building Relationships, Respect, and Literacy Through a "Faces of Learning"-Inspired Project

If we think of our schools as volumes of books filled with the vignettes of every person whose presence has graced their hallways and classrooms, we are left to wonder what stories are being told? What are the major themes and how have they been developed? What is the plot structure and how do problems find resolutions? Who are the characters and how do they change over time? How are stories told through multiple points of view and what effect does perspective have on the interpretation of events and their outcomes? Most importantly, what lessons are learned from reading these stories?

Unlike books that can be simply picked up and read, people, particularly young people, are not easily so.  To get to know a person (to "read" the story of a person) takes time and often a lot of nurturing through building relationships founded on mutual respect and appreciation.  Knowing that stories are often shared in good company, among those with whom we feel most comfortable, we teachers become the hosts of the events that will bring our students together to tell their stories.  What might these events be?  How will we set the tone to make sure that all stories are heard and appreciated?

It is with this in mind that I have designed a first quarter standards-based unit that revolves around storytelling and community-building. Inspired by the "Faces of Learning" website, this multi-layered performance-based project follows the Language Arts scope and sequence outlined in Curriculum Companion, the tool some Wisconsin districts have chosen to guide our implementation of the Common Core State Standards, and is embedded with English Language Development standards for my ESL-focused class.  

First and foremost, I want to build respectful relationships with each of my students and teach them to respect themselves and each other as we get to know about who we are as a community of learners.  My goal is to show them that I see each one as a unique person, worthy of respect and value, who has her/his own strengths and weaknesses.  I also want them to see me as a lifelong learner with my own strengths and weaknesses who is also worthy of respect.  We are doing this through an investigation of our own multiple intelligence, learning styles, and language proficiency (added intentionally for ELL's).  This information will be compiled into a learner profile and used to help students set individual goals for their intellectual and social growth.  

I also want to empower students to respectfully advocate for their own learning.  To do this, I am modeling for them ways that I, as a teacher, advocate for their collective learning, and I am transparent about how I adapt my instruction to fit their individual needs.  As students discover more about themselves as learners, we practice ways for them to advocate for their own learning in my classroom and beyond.  Through discussions of formal versus informal register in communication and learning about cultural expectations for showing respect, the students will be equipped with the skills necessary to communicate respectfully with a diverse group of peers and adults in our community to advocate for their needs and be responsive to the needs of others.  

The most important element of this project is the humanization of students.  Not only do I want to create a safe space for students to investigate themselves as learners and respect and appreciate themselves, each other, and me as their teacher, I also want them to share this "data" in a human way with others in our school community.  This is why they will be using this experience to write their own learning story to share with families and staff via a classroom website.  

As this project grows, I believe that it will continue to foster a climate of strong relationships, as people find similarities with each other and learn to appreciate differences.  It also cultivates respect for individuality, as each person's learning story reflects her/his own unique perspective.  I look forward to seeing the growth our students will make this year as a result of this strong foundation of self-awareness, respect, and relationships we are building through this project.  I also look forward to seeing the growth our staff will make this year as they hear directly from students about their learning experiences, their challenges and successes, in our schools.

The Simplicity of Appreciation

"The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness."

-14th Dalai Lama

"Thanks!  Have a nice night!"

I heard those words from the assistant manager every time I clocked out from my shift at the job I had in college.  I always replied with the customary "You're welcome!" but would walk away secretly puzzled that I was being thanked simply for doing the job that was expected of me (I mean, it felt nice to be thanked, but didn't he realize I got paid to be there?).  Now that I am a classroom manager, however, I see what he was really doing every time he thanked me. He was modeling respectful behavior and expressing appreciation for my contribution to our workplace so that I would take pride in my work and act the same toward him, our co-workers, and our clients.  And it worked.

I've taken the same principle and applied to the way I interact with my students.  Just like that manager, I believe that respect is both earned and taught, and that it is my responsibility to model respectful behavior toward my students so that they will learn how to be respectful toward me and others.  I, therefore, thank them at the end of every class so that they are left with words of appreciation from their teacher.  I use the word "please" when asking them to complete challenging assignments, and consistently point out their strengths and good character as they go about their routines in our classroom.  I explicitly teach them how to use respectful language and we practice using formal register in our language-focused classroom.  We work together to establish norms for respectful interactions, agree to positive behavior expectations to hold each other accountable, and we do community-building activities to learn to appreciate one another. When disrespectful behavior happens, we address it and practice strategies for fixing it.

Once expectations for respect are established, taught, and practiced, I spend the rest of the year reinforcing these interactions.  I try to greet each student individually as s/he enters the classroom, and take a genuine interest in each of their lives often asking them questions to see how they are that day, what the latest news is, and how their family members are.  I work to learn about their culture, in terms of both their youth culture and their home culture, and am honest with them about the fact that I value what they teach me.  In turn, I teach them about my own culture, sharing stories about my own family or my adventures as a lifelong learner. 

My goal as an educator is to consistently be a role model for these young people as they are learning to become positive members of our larger community.  I want them to know what it feels like to be appreciated and treated respectfully so that they develop a high sense of self-worth.  I also want them to know how to show appreciation and respect for others so that they can be models for them.  When we show young people our appreciation for their goodness and teach them how to be respectful, we are making wonderful progress toward creating a more appreciative and respectful community for generations to come.

Three Reasons to Be a Teacher

3 Reasons to be a Teacher:

1)  June

2)  July

3)  August

Ah, the dog days of summer.  Time to sleep in, enjoy coffee on the porch, take the kids to the beach and the park, travel, barbeque, camp, catch up on the latest gossip on daytime television, read novels from this summer's best seller list, and generally be responsibility-free for the whole season.  For many, this is what they think of when they think of teaching:  working a job that has the incredible benefit of three months of absolute laziness a year.  While this may sound enticing, anybody who has spent any time either with a teacher or as a teacher knows that this rosy picture of luxury is far from the reality of what summer is like for many people in this profession.

Summer vacation for me meant 80 hours of curriculum development work, confined to a windowless library at one of our district's high schools.  Thankfully, they were kind enough to assign us to one of the few air-conditioned places in our buildings.  We spent the first week being re-trained on the newly-adopted Common Core State Standards and were discouraged from working at our own pace.  What was touted as time for us to write curriculum turned into lecture upon lecture about how to create performance-based assessments, write standards-based units and lessons, and identify mentor texts and resources that we might use to support our instruction.  We then broke for the summer, planning to return to the table in August for the second half of this work, where we would reconvene in the confines of yet another windowless conference room at our district office, rested, relaxed, and ready to crank out all of the units we would need for the upcoming school year.

I then traveled to Minneapolis for five days to attend a conference on dual language immersion.  In the comfort of a conference room with light refreshments, we learned about the fundamentals of dual language immersion, the research that supports this type of instruction, and the effective strategies for pedagogy in this program.  Our focus was on using standards to design units, creating and sustaining the space for students to use language in our classrooms, and lesson planning in the DLI classroom.  My co-worker and I had brought our curriculum-writing resources with us to this conference, fully intending to continue our work back in our shared hotel room; however, after a long day of learning we were too mentally exhausted to get much of anything accomplished aside from dinner and a quick phone call home to our respective families.  "Don't worry," we assured each other, "the curriculum will get written soon.  We will just have to do it when we get home."

Well, now we're home, and now it's almost August.  In three short weeks, I need to have unit outlines, lesson plans, performance-based assessments and rubrics written, as well as identified mentor texts, graphic organizers, and protocols created for goal-setting and progress-monitoring for five different classes:  6th grade ESL, 7th grade ESL, 8th grade ESL, 6th grade Spanish Language Arts, and 7th grade Spanish Language Arts.  All of these courses need to be complementary to mainstream, core academic classes, and they need to be creative enough to engage the reluctant learners that I often find in my classroom.  Furthermore, the Spanish Language Arts classes need to follow the same scope and sequence as their English Language Arts counterparts without doubling-up on instruction or translating the ELA content.  As I'm sure you educators can imagine, this is truly an art form that requires constant collaboration with the ELA teachers--collaboration that may or may not happen this summer based on scheduling conflicts.

What could cause such scheduling conflicts, you ask?  Aren't the other teachers just lying around waiting for September?

Not exactly.  

Most of the teachers with whom I need to collaborate are teaching summer school.  Others are attending graduate school or taking classes--paid for with their own money and not reimbursed by the district or tax-deductible--to maintain their certification or to earn a small raise of less than $100 a month.  You might find teachers traveling to gain experiences they will take back to their classrooms, attending annual data retreats to discuss disproportionality in our schools and develop strategies for addressing specific needs in the upcoming school year, participating in school improvement focus groups, or tutoring children who need extra summer support.  Maybe they have other summer jobs that help pay the bills, or they are taking the time to catch up on professional reading that gets ignored during the hectic academic year.  As I created this list, I just realized myself that I need to update my Professional Development Plan (PDP), something I am sure many others are also writing this summer.  And, speaking of professional development, there are hundreds of hours being volunteered right now by educators in my district who are attending PD's on becoming Middle School Math Specialists, receiving training in Developmental Designs, and learning about how to use hip hop to design culturally-responsive units and engage students in their learning.  One of my friends actually organized an Edcamp here in the area for professional collaboration, and routinely learns in online forums as well.  Whatever they are doing, you can rest-assured that there is plenty of work being accomplished during the months of summer.

So why did I become a teacher?  Was it really for June, July, and August?  

In some ways, perhaps.

In June, I reflected on the beauty of a full-inclusion education, which is what my school offers.  I asked my students for feedback about what I, as their teacher, did that worked and how they thought I could improve.  I was reminded of the fact that I became a teacher to provide young people with a high-quality education that met their needs, respected their diversity, and challenged them to think critically about the world around them.

In July, I reflected on the power of a bilingual education, which is the direction in which my school is heading.  I asked questions and challenged existing systems in our school to help create the framework for high-leverage Dual Language Instruction in our building.  I was reminded of the fact that I became a teacher to advocate for student learning, to facilitate cultural and linguistic fluidity, and to prepare young people for our global society by giving them the opportunity to learn academic content while simultaneously developing fluency in two languages.

In August, I plan to reflect on effective pedagogy as I spend the last few weeks of summer writing the fall curriculum that will be taught in my school.  I will ask myself what students need to know and be able to do to be successful in the upcoming year.  I will remind myself of the fact that I became a teacher to design units of instruction that engage students to the highest level of their ability and beyond, reflect their interests, and teach them to respect themselves, each other, and their environment, while preparing them for higher learning or careers beyond high school.

In short, yes, I did become a teacher for June, July, and August, as these months provide me with the time I need for personal and professional reflection so that when the chaos of the academic school year begins I am well-prepared for everything that comes our way.  Cheers to all you other educators who also take this time to become better practitioners.  Our students and their families are grateful for your dedication and fortunate to have you as their educators.  Enjoy the rest of your summer and best of luck getting ready for the fall.

Harumph! Kids These Days! On Changing Our Tone About Young People

"There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children."

- Nelson Mandela

A lot has been said in the media lately about the degeneration of our youth and their seeming lack of moral character, their resulting destructive behavior, and their defiance.  I, personally, was involved in a conversation recently where the woman with whom I was talking mentioned how much she appreciates people like me who have a heart for educating middle school students because, if left up to her, "I would just want to smack those little brats around if I had to teach them!" she exclaimed.

Really?  Smack them around?  For what? 

Anybody who has gone through formal training to be a teacher and anybody who has worked with young people for some time knows that during these formative years they go through an incredible amount of changes, rapidly and chaotically, generally without a lot of understanding of what is happening to them.  The early adolescent phase (roughly ages 11-14) is exceptionally difficult for students physically, chemically, socially, and emotionally.  As their bodies grow faster than sometimes their brains can keep up, they begin to care about what others think of them and start to select friendships based on common interests or perceived identities.  They get very insecure about new physical developments--voices cracking, acne, clumsiness, becoming young women or men, newly discovered physical attractions, body image, self-esteem--you name it, they are confronted with it, all for the first time and all during these years. Intellectually, these people move from what developmental psychologist Jean Piaget terms, "Concrete Operational" thinking to "Formal Operational," which means that they go from seeing the world in very obvious, clearly defined ways to thinking in more abstract terms.  Ever try to use sarcasm or irony with an eight year old only to be left with crickets chirping or hurt feelings?  Walk into an eighth grade classroom, on the other hand, and it's practically the standard form of communication.  

All of these physical changes lead to further complications in terms of young adolescents' social/emotional development.  It is during these years that they begin to question the world around them, exploring their own beliefs and identities, and forming their own opinions based on their new experiences and brain capacities.  They become sensitive to issues of equity and social justice, often challenging disciplinary decisions they believe to be unfairly administered or advocating for some type of change in their community.  They squabble, goof around, fidget in desks that they are quickly outgrowing, and make and break friendships almost on a daily basis.  The mantra for middle school tends to be the idea of defining oneself and then defending that identity in the midst of peer pressure, cliques, "in" crowds and "out" crowds.  These are the years when bullying is heightened as insecurities flare and cause these young people to judge others they perceive to be different.  The irony is that all these young people really want is to be accepted, and in fighting for that acceptance, they often scramble over each other in the race to "coolness."  Anybody will tell you that the simplest way to define who you are is to identify who you are not.  Bullying comes from insecure people who target others who are not like them.

So what do we do to confront issues of bullying in our schools?  What do we do to guide these young people toward the kind of behavior that we adults deem "socially acceptable"?

Most of the time, we model exactly what we do not want them to do.

Turn on network television and you will see "judges" on tv shows using their position of power to berate people in their courtrooms; you will see politicians and talking heads demonizing teachers and launching vicious attacks on good people's character, all while yelling over them in interviews; and you will see an explosion of heated conversation about the story of a young person who was essentially stalked and killed by an adult for walking through the "wrong neighborhood" while wearing a hoodie.  Go to your favorite social media outlet and watch threads of people dehumanizing each other, name-calling and personally attacking people they don't even know for their opinions or beliefs.  Read how complicated issues get simplified, and people argue with each other using 140 characters or less.  Witness the rise of social media "trolls," whose sole purpose is to act as internet bullies.  All around us, figuratively and literally, wars are waged and lives are lost as bullying rages on a global scale.

We adults can't seem to figure out how to get along, yet we have the audacity to blame young people for their behavior? 

I suppose it's easier that way, for us to define who we are based on who we are not.  Being fixated on the woes of the younger generation keeps us distracted from looking at ourselves and challenging our own behavior.  When we disconnect from our responsibility for raising our youth, it becomes second nature to find someone else to blame for their behavior.  If it's not me, it must be the teachers.  If it's not me, it must be other parents.  If it's not me, it must be poverty.  If it's not me, it must be atheists.  If it's not me, it must be...well...anybody but me.

My challenge to you today is to begin to reflect on your own behavior, language, and actions.  How are you modeling the behavior you expect to see from young people today?  How are you actively engaged in being a positive force of change in our society?  Most importantly, how are you challenging your own beliefs, digging deep to find and address hidden bias and agendas, and possibly working through your own insecurities or fears?  Our young people need you to be there for them.  They need to see consistency in appropriate behavior to clearly understand and act on what is expected of them.  Above all else, our young people need you to love them, care for them, be kind to them, and give them the benefit of the doubt as they grow and make mistakes along the way.  Remember, you were once a member of the proverbial group of "[harumph!] kids these days," and you probably frustrated a lot of older people who did not understand your generation.  Treat these new young people how you wish you had been treated, and I guarantee you will see that just like you, they have many wonderful things to offer the world.  They just need our guidance to help them get there.

When the Spirit Catches You: On Finding My Path to Exploring and Teaching Hmong History and Culture at the Middle Level

“The Hmong have a phrase, hais cuaj txub kaum txub, which means 'to speak of all kinds of things.' It is often used at the beginning of an oral narrative as a way of reminding the listeners that the world is full of things that may not seem to be connected but actually are; that no event occurs in isolation; that you can miss a lot by sticking to the point; and that the storyteller is likely to be rather long-winded.” 

Anne Fadiman

My introduction to the narrative of Hmong culture came from reading the book The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down:  A Hmong Child, Her American Doctors, and the Collision of Two Cultures, by Anne Fadiman.  It is the emotional tale of how the family of Lia Lee, a gravely ill Hmong child, wrestles with the conflicts that arise when they try to treat their daughter medically according to their own cultural practices while navigating the system of Western medicine and American expectations.  The book was assigned to me in my undergraduate Medical Spanish class as a way to teach us about language translation and cultural sensitivity in the medical field, but what it really made me ponder on a deeper level was the question of how we could all become more culturally proficient in order to enhance our understanding of the human experience and to respectfully navigate the edges of cultural conflict and communication.  More importantly, I began to wonder what I could do, personally, to learn more about this interesting group of people that I had never known existed, even though many lived in my own state.

These questions resurfaced when I found myself interviewing for an ESL (English as a Second Language) teaching position at a diverse middle school where the two largest groups of English Language Learners were Latino and Hmong students.  The movie Gran Torino had just come out, and watching it made me believe that I had established a decent amount of background knowledge about Hmong people.  When the principal asked me to discuss my experience working with Hmong students, including what I understood about their history and culture, I felt rather confident in my textbook answer: 

"The Hmong people are a group of people who helped the American soldiers in the Viet Nam War, and in exchange for their support in fighting the Viet Cong, our government promised them asylum in the United States when the war was over.  We didn't exactly deliver quickly on that promise, however, and  there are many Hmong people who are still waiting in refugee camps in Laos and Thailand to be brought here.  I worked with Hmong students at a different school on this side of town, and learned that their major settlements in the U.S. are in California, Minnesota, and Wisconsin.  As fairly recent immigrants to our country, Hmong students often deal with cultural, linguistic, and racial conflicts.  They also struggle with the push to become 'Americanized,' yet their families want them to maintain their own cultural and linguistic identity.  As a teacher of Hmong students, it is important to understand how to support their language development as well as their cultural identity, including being sensitive to the great deal of stress that they may be experiencing as a result of culture shock or trauma from being in refugee camps their entire lives." 

I might have answered that question well enough to get into my first teaching job, but I knew it was a far cry from getting me to teach with the kind of cultural responsiveness I knew it would take to do the job well.  At that moment, I made a professional commitment to get to know these students and their families as best I could so that I could teach them in a way that resonated with their lives.

For four years, I read and responded to my Hmong students' essays and stories about their identities and dealing with stereotypes.    I listened to them chat about attending the annual Hmong New Year festivities and asked them to share their experiences with the class.  I learned about the mysterious ancient history of the Plain of Jars in Laos, and made explicit connections to the mysterious Olmec heads from our integrated Latin America unit.  I also taught a unit that involved our class researching their own immigration history and sharing what they felt comfortable telling others, and I continued to build a trusting environment where everybody felt welcomed and appreciated.

By Year Five, I had decided to take a leap of faith and actually teach a quarter-long unit about Hmong history and culture.

I had no real idea how to start or what resources I would use, but I trusted that my students would help guide the way, and they absolutely rose to the occasion!  I wrote a rationale for the unit, typed up some Essential Questions (to guide the instruction), aligned Learning Targets with academic English language development standards, and away I went.  The most important step in this process was when I shared my overview with my eighth grade Hmong students and asked them if they thought this was something they felt comfortable with me teaching.  As soon as I had their blessing to continue with the unit, I asked them for their input about what I should make sure to include in a unit about their history and culture, and what topics I might need to avoid. 

As I tracked down resources, I continued to check in with my Hmong student "advisory council."  I previewed all materials ahead of time and made note of particular conversation topics I wanted to be sure to address and got my students' approval before introducing the materials in class.  I taught the class how to have a circle discussion, and how to ask and answer questions in respectful, productive ways to move our conversations along.  By the end of the unit, I had managed to find a way to blend realistic fiction, non-fiction, video resources, and structured conversation to support students in deepening their understanding of Hmong history and culture as well as finding cross-cultural similarities that they never knew existed.  I watched as our Hmong students eagerly led discussions, answered and asked deep questions, and wrote profound reflections of their learning.  The tone in our classroom, always positive, became almost familial as students shared mutual respect and appreciation for each other, and this led to increased English language development for all students.  Everyone learned how to read and take notes on academic texts, respond to literature by making connections and asking questions, and they became adept at contrastive analysis of fiction versus non-fiction text.  They wrote essays about their interpretations of the "American identity," and when it came time to choose a topic for the documentary I asked them to make about our school, many students chose to investigate diversity in our building.

All in all the Hmong unit was a success!  I believe it was a wonderful learning experience for all students and I am committed to refining it over time.  Moreover, I hope to extend this unit beyond my own classroom and collaborate with other educators to integrate these themes across the disciplines.  It may not be much, but I know it is a step in the right direction towards enhancing multicultural education and cultural proficiency for all.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Rest in Peace, Lia Lee, 1982-2012.  The world truly is full of things that do not appear to be connected, but really are.  Your story sparked a flame that eventually created this unit, which was brought to fruition in March of this year, 2013.  In honor of your courage and your family, thank you for catching my spirit and inspiring the next generation of Hmong leaders, visionaries, and teachers. [http://www.mercedsunstar.com/2012/09/08/2523532/subject-of-fadimans-spirit-dies.html]

Resources used in this unit:

Cha, Dia.  Dia's Story Cloth.  Stitched by Chue and Nhia Thao Cha.  New York:  Lee and Low Books, 1996.

Cha, Dia, Mai Zong Vue, and Steve Carmen.  Field Guide to Hmong Culture.  Wisconsin:  Madison Children's Museum, 2004.

Deitz Shea, Pegi.  Tangled Threads:  A Hmong Girl's Story.  Boston, MA:  Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; 2003.

Wisconsin Public Television.  Being Hmong Means Being Free [DVD].  United States:  Corporation for Public Broadcasting.  2000.  (Available from http://video.wpt2.org/video/1726513324/) 

On the Plain of Jars:  Various internet travel blogs and videos from the region found through search engines

What's So "Common" About Common Core?

As a bilingual middle school curriculum writer in my district, I have spent the past several months digesting and making sense of the Common Core Language Arts Standards for grades 6-8.  Our charge has been to design model lessons and essentially write canned curriculum that new teachers can use as they begin their careers in our district.  As you might imagine, this work is challenging enough when it's for English Language Arts, but when it's for Spanish Language Arts, it presents an entirely different set of puzzles.  My most recent revelation throughout this work is that as much as the Common Core strives to align schools with a set of common performance expectations, implementing these standards becomes anything but common across districts.  This is mainly due to systems-level inequities, such as disconnected learning environments, unsustainable technology budgets, and inconsistent student access to technology in school and at home, including technical support when students experience a problem.

The system of bilingual education at the middle school level (with the exception of one school) in our district is designed in a disconnected way from regular core instruction.  This is contradictory to best practices for a strong bilingual/biliteracy-focused program which requires thoughtful integration across disciplines in  the core, and a strategic, clearly-defined literacy block in which students systematically learn literacy and language strategies in one language and bridge and apply those understandings to the other language.  Spanish Language Arts and English Language Arts are not supposed to exist independently from one another; they need to be integrated to be effective.

Working with this vision in mind, I have been collaborating with the English Language Arts teachers at both 6th grade and 7th grade in my building so that we can design units that are at least superficially integrated with each other so that my Spanish Language Arts class can seem to bridge and extend what students are doing in their English Language Arts class, rather than be a translation or repetition of what the students did that morning in their English Language Arts class.  This is quite difficult, considering we have to align Spanish Language Arts instruction across two different classrooms at each grade level (for a total of four environments).  

We finally got to a point where we thought we had beaten the systemic challenge of trying to align Spanish Language Arts instruction with English Language Arts instruction, using the same set of standards in the same scope and sequence, without repeating or translating what was practiced and learned earlier in the day in English, but as I was working more on the actual lesson design last night, I came across another singificant roadblock to our students' success:  access to technology. 

Technology across any district or state is horribly inconsistent, and at my school we are nowhere near having a 1:1 student to computer ratio.  So, when the Common Core mandates that all students in grades 6-8 are completing some form of research project during the second three weeks of the second quarter of school, which also happens to coincide with our requirements to administer the standardized computer-based test for reading comprehension (the MAP) and an hour-long Gallup Survey to assess student climate, access to technology just isn't there.  How are these students supposed to do research with technology that the district cannot afford to buy?  

Furthermore, all 440 students in my building are then required to use technology to acquire fluid typing skills, collaborate with the teacher and each other, and create a variety of presentations for their projects using the Internet and different applications.  Without a 1:1 student to computer ratio, this is impossible to complete during the school day; and so the most logical response is that they need to use the technology at home to complete their assignments.  I teach in an urban school where students have very inconsistent access to technology in their homes--and some students don't even have a place to call their home.  Expecting that all students will be able to use technology outside of the school day is not a reality, and even if they could use the technology, often the kinds of projects and collaboration they need to do require a fairly sophisticated understanding of the technology and the Internet, and students might not have access to tech support outside of the school building.  How are these students supposed to get their homework done when there might not be anybody able to help them?

It is not only the urban schools who are experiencing these problems.  Due to recent public school budget gouging across my state, poor, rural districts are finding themselves ill-equipped to deal with the demands of the Common Core.  Forget being able to purchase technology, some of these areas are still trying to get access to reliable broadband Internet, a state project that our governor struck down two years ago.  How are these students supposed to do research and complete their assignments with technology that is not even available to them?

As it turns out, the more I understand about the Common Core State Standards, the more I see that instead of aligning schools across the state and nation, these standards are actually driving wedges between these districts, which negatively affects our student achievement.  The standards themselves are fairly reasonable; however, when they are coupled with severe budget cuts to education, they are impossible to implement with fidelity and will leave large groups of our students behind.  If we truly want alignment in schools and if we truly want equity in education, then we have to get to the root of the issue, which is economic equity.  We have to figure out how to level the playing field so that all students have equal access to a high-quality education.  We need sustainable, healthy budgets in our schools; we need local control to make decisions with our specific students' needs in mind; and we need to retain high-quality teachers who are able to deliver the comprehensive instruction required by these standards.  Above all, we need to fund our public schools adequately and appropriately so that we are able to deliver on our promise of a free and appropriate public education for all...not simply for all "who can afford it."

We Are Family

"We are family...get up everybody and sing!"

-Sister Sledge

It was the last day of school for our 8th graders and everybody was in the cafeteria watching a video montage of pictures and music celebrating our students' activities and growth over the past year.  The 6th and 7th graders were out of the building along with their team teachers and a few support staff, and I chose to stay back to spend some quality time with the 8th graders and to wish them well as they left our building for the last time.  The room was hot and stuffy, and the cafeteria tables weren't exactly the most comfortable (How on Earth did these students deal with eating at these tiny crowded things for the last three years?), but there we were, crowded together, laughing, cheering, and at times randomly jumping up to bust a move to our favorite song.

As the song "We Are Family" started playing, I paused to reflect on what I was seeing:  students of all different races, nationalities, languages, socioeconomic statuses, abilities, social identities and interests, family lives, genders, you name it, we've got it, mixed up together, laughing and supporting each other as the pictures flashed by.  In what normally are the most chaotic and divisive years of an adolescent's life, these students were totally integrated and interested in participating in this whole group activity.  

The pictures sparked little conversations and occasionally elicited cheers, and what I  particularly noticed (as a former middle schooler myself who is sensitive to subtle forms of bullying) was that the students never appeared to laugh in a taunting or negative way.  If they didn't have anything nice to add to the environment, they just kept it to themselves.  That was an especially nice moment for me.

I also noticed how much these people had grown and changed in just one year of their lives, which led me to realize that they had actually grown and changed even more amazingly over the past three years.  The timid 6th grade Latina girls who walked into my class the first day of school afraid to practice their English were now confidently signed up for English 9 Honors in the fall.  The boys with autism who began their middle school careers perfectly happy to do their own thing had found lasting friendships with each other.  The students who presented some of the most challenging 6th grade behaviors had made positive connections with adults in our building, and were nervously lingering around them afraid to leave their safe environment for the intimidating future of high school.  Our goofy intellectuals, socially aware peace soldiers, urban renegades, artists, poets, leaders, entrepreneurs...all were there and all were welcomed.  For the last time at this school, they would all hang out together as one big family.

Now families are not without their problems, but they do come with one amazing benefit:  no matter what you choose to do, no matter where you want to go in life, no matter how many disagreements we may have, you will always belong.  Over the past three years, I've watched these young people make friends, lose friends, and be confused by the actions of people they believe to be their friends.  I've watched them segregate themselves based on language or race or perceived common experience, and also integrate themselves based on self-selected cooperative group learning activities, sports, clubs, and leadership councils.  Students have grown from using stereotypes to challenging stereotypes, from asking for the answer to asking thought-provoking questions and finding their own answers, from righteous indignation to well-constructed arguments and debates.  These young people have grown from timid children to mature young adults, poised and determined to make their own way in life.

This is why I choose to teach in my building:  We Are Family

We are a school based on mutual respect and full-inclusion.  All kids, all abilities, learning together at all times.  There are three teams at each grade level, taught by three teachers who deliver core content (math, language arts, reading, social studies, and science) and intentionally do community-building activities with their students so that they are all able to trust one another and work together cooperatively.  An added bonus is that our 6th grade teams loop with their students to 7th grade, so students have the benefit of being in the same family environment for two years.  This allows teachers the time to really get to know students, for students to get to know teachers and each other, and for families and teachers to build positive, trusting relationships.  

Our school also has built a sense of community, almost familial, among staff in the building.  We often organize social events outside of school to get to know each other personally, and we collaborate professionally, participating in various leadership teams within the building and at the district level, and attending monthly schoolwide leadership meetings to make important decisions about events, partnerships, service delivery, school climate, and professional development needs.  We strive to discourage "teacher shopping" on behalf of our students so they see us as a united front, we use inclusive language in our conversations (these are ALL our students, not mine or yours), we try to find ways to integrate support staff and extended learning staff with core teams, and when substitute teachers cover for us, we try to remember to refer to them as "guest teachers" so students know that they are equally as competent and deserving of respect as any of the regular adults in the building.

I realize I could go on and on writing with rose-colored glasses about how wonderful my school is (trust me, we have room to grow, but overall I really do love where I teach), but I think that the proof of how our environment impacts kids is in their reactions to leaving our school that day.  

It was 2:37 and the bus had pulled up outside waiting to take our students home for the summer.  Staff were clustered along the sidewalk to give the kids one last hug or handshake as they left.  At about 2:38, the tears started to flow, and students showed just how much they love their teachers and friends by lingering around giving last-minute hugs or two, or three, before actually leaving.  And it wasn't just the students, either.  There were some teachers, including myself, who were trying our best to stay cool and be strong for the students so they didn't have any unnecessary added anxiety about leaving.  All around us were words of encouragement, thank-you's, and reminders to come back and see us to tell us all about the wonderful accomplishments they would have in high school and beyond.  We know that most won't come back, but the ones who do are always amazing.

So there it was.  The last day of 8th grade.  The end of a three-year cycle of students we had grown to love--despite annoying behavior, late assignments, personality conflicts, disconnects, and sometimes power struggles--closing a chapter of their lives and anxiously awaiting the next.  I look forward to hearing about their future successes.  Wherever they go in life, they are always welcome as another generation of our school family.

"Living life is fun and we've just begun
To get our share of the world's delights
(High) high hopes we have for the future
And our goal's in sight
(We) no we don't get depressed
Here's what we call our golden rule
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won't go wrong, oh-no
This is our family Jewel"

Best of luck, Class of 2017!  

We hope you always remember your middle school family!