My friends gave me these books. One, a conscientious parent, the other, a once-upon-a-time elementary school teacher. The books inspired an idea. Each week, on my outside bulletin board, I will display a paragraph, sprinkled with a few missing letters, and ask the question, What do you think the title of the book could be? The following week, I will display the answer (the title) and hang up a new paragraph. ...
I grabbed these from a pile in my daughter’s closet. On Thursday, I left work. The frustration of not being heard — over and over again. I work 4.7 miles from Stoneman Douglas High School and yet…. We don’t have a perimeter fence. Anyone can park in the lot and walk by classroom windows until they get to the single point of entry. As you pull into the school, there is a field to the right. I could jump that fence and have access to portables, the three-story building and the main building. The three-story building is the same model as the three-story building that still sits on the campus of Stoneman Douglas High School, untouched until the end of the trial. He was able to get into that building because the three-story building was unlocked. The front door of our three-story building has been unlocked all year, because our principal decided that teachers could not handle the responsibility of having keys, worrying they would lose them. And somehow, this policy, to keep doors unlocked, was, until the Texas shooting, at the principal’s discretion. The backdoor of our main building was also unlocked so that teachers from the three-story building could get into the main building without a key. And for some unknown reason, other than administration not feeling like making any more moves, I spent the year in a portable with just one neighbor, our P.E. Coach. All other teachers moved into the main building or the three-story-building at the start of the 2021–2022 school year because enrollment was down and there were lots of empty rooms. There were empty rooms on the third floor of the three-story building but I could not go there because second graders are not allowed on the third floor. So for me to move, another teacher, who could be on the third floor, would have had to move and an administrator told me that they did not want to make anyone else move. After the Texas shooting, some higher beings decided that all doors in all buildings needed to be locked. Last week, when I was trying to leave work, I was trapped. I walked from my portable to the three-story-building and the door was locked. I need access to either the three-story building or the main building to get to the parking lot. I walked over to the main building, but as expected, that was locked too. I called a friend, who is also a colleague, and took a deep breath. She came down from the second floor of the three-story building and let me in. When I got home, I emailed the principal. He assured me that this would not happen again. It happened again. This time I was locked out of the main building with a student. This time I imagined seeing an armed person. There would have been nowhere to go. A colleague came out of the main building, heading to the three-story building, and the student and I went inside; she headed to her class and I chose the office instead of my original destination. To say something. But the principal told me that he was busy and he could not talk to me. According to his email to the higher beings, I misunderstood. He said that I was asked to wait a minute because he was busy working on safety issues. Of course I would have waited if I had been asked to wait. He needed to protect himself. That’s how it works. That’s what happened four years ago too. I expected nothing different. Later that day, I approached an assistant principal who was standing guard at the three-story building. He told me to be patient. Patient was part of the principal’s email too. This assistant principal told me that that they were trying to put a Band-Aid on the situation until the end of the school year. He also asked me where the security guard was, the one who should have been there to let me into the building. A Band-Aid? Where the guard was? Yet, I still felt it would be wrong to call downtown. We are conditioned to feel that way. I began explaining my frustration. The assistant principal, wearing dark sunglasses, told me that my voice was too loud and that he felt that I was yelling at him — It was time for me to call downtown. The next day. Lots of people. Lots of chaos. Unarmed people at every door letting me in and out. Not sure how that would work if there were a shooter. But okay. Thursday. I just wanted calm. I just wanted to come into work and do my job. I got to the end of the main building, to exit towards my portable, when I saw a group of teachers. One explained without me asking. They were locked out of the three-story building, waiting to be let in. Instead of waiting outside, they waited inside. I assume because it felt safer. But then one teacher proceeded to say that it was all okay. That our principal was doing the best he could. That she had been locked out for thirty minutes the other day and she was fine with it. I continued to my portable. A few minutes later, a colleague, a friend, came to my door. She made me smile. A birthday card, a slice of cake and a quart of mint chip ice cream. I headed over to the three-story building where a friend had a freezer. As I approached the building, an unarmed guard opened the door. We had become friendly over the past days. He had arrived a few days earlier. To my right, I saw the principal and the assistant principal talking to people. The guard thought I would be happy. That they were talking about refitting the locks and giving teachers keys that would open their classrooms and buildings. I looked at him and started crying. He understood. He hugged me. Over four years. Over four years to lock the doors and get me a key? I went upstairs, knocked on my friend’s door, went inside, and then I knew. I couldn’t stay. I was exhausted. I walked to my portable, put in an absence for the rest of the day and drove home. I took off my contacts, got into sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbed a notebook and wrote down my thoughts. I called downtown — again. This time I was prepared. I was calm and articulate. I found two people. Their names are now in my phone. I never have to try to work things out at my job again. If I have a problem, I will call them. I took Friday off too. I almost didn’t write this story because I don’t want to feel this way. I just want to write happy stories. Happy stories about teaching. But I decided it was okay. And it is helping me. It does not mean that I am a negative unhappy person. And maybe sharing this story will motivate more change. It has been really hard to be a teacher lately — for a while. And it’s absolutely not because I don’t love these kids. I am going to press publish and then I am going to enjoy this rainy day. Hannah sent me a story of someone turning in their guns. That made me happy, and there will be a March again, on June 11, and that made me happy too. I am excited that next school year I will have keys to the buildings, and I am moving into a great room on the first floor of the three-story building, where I will create a space for my ELA Special, a job I am so excited about. I am hopeful that some of you out there can search for your connections and keep fighting too. Fight for gun reform. Fight for safer schools. I just want to go to work on Monday and smile and laugh and enjoy my last week before I get a much needed eight week break to take care of me. Thank you for listening.
Back to the untethered soul. **This is your life — reclaim it.**You stay open by never closing. It’s really that simple. You can learn to stay open no matter what happens in the world. Closing your heart does not really protect you from anything. On Sunday, May 22, I sent an email to my team. No more lack of empowerment As you know, we are having a substitute shortage and I will need to be available over the next three weeks. There is a chance that I don’t get pulled but I won’t know until the mornings. Therefore, I am no longer having formal groups. ...
Photo taken on Friday, May 20, at 10:55 am Two students from my 10:30 reading group just adore this book. They sit together laughing as they sing aloud the words. Watching them, sitting with them — absolutely fills my bucket. But, for some reason, right now, it just isn’t enough. There is a hole in my bucket, and I am trying so hard to fix it. I used this book for many years. I couldn’t find it today, but I did find this. ...
I don’t remember how I first discovered BECAUSE, but once I did, I had to have it. This past Tuesday, instead of leveled readers, BECAUSE sat alone on the Guided Reading table. Waiting. So much to talk about. A score is the music written by a composer. Mo Willems wrote the words for this book. He is like a composer. A performance is when a group of musicians play their instruments on stage, in front of an audience. Amber Ren drew the pictures for this book. She created a performance for us, the readers. ...
One of my most important responsibilities. “….that students will see meaning, relevancy, or emotional connections to their own lives,” and that I “actively work at helping students make these connections.” (Whitman & Kelleher*,* p. 89)* Neuro Teach: Brain Science and the Future of Education* The Color Monster My students and I needed a reboot. We needed a pause. The end of the school year is approaching. Lots of assessments. Lots of urgency. Lots of noise. ...
“One thing we know from psychology about the learning process is that the act of reaching into your brain, grabbing some knowledge, pulling it out, chewing on it, talking about it, and putting it back helps you learn. Psychologists call this elaborative encoding…. We’re trying to get math teachers to help students engage in that process of elaborative encoding.” Jon R. Star, a psychologist and professor of education at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. (“One way is the wrong way to do math. Here’s the right way,” The Harvard Gazette, 2021). ...
Once a month, teachers at my school attend professional learning communities, otherwise known as PLCs. “A PLC is a team of educators who share ideas to enhance their teaching practice and create a learning environment where all students can reach their fullest potential.” Last week, administration asked for suggestions for next year’s PLCs. I emailed the principal. I heard back. I typed my thoughts and met with the assistant principal in charge. ...
When I finished reading this book I understood that the pain I felt in my chest every day before I left for work was fear. I was grateful to finally understand. I now know how to set myself free. “You will realize that you not only have the ability to find yourself, you have the ability to free yourself.” Right here. Right now. I really cannot explain why those are the words that I heard after writing this quote. But as soon as I wrote them, I paused. ...
I have been on Spring Break; I return to work on Monday. I am supposed to return to work on Monday. Monday is a planning day. I woke up with that pain in my chest, the anxiety I have felt my whole life when it is time to return to school, the noise, the chaos… I just logged into Employee Self Service to see how many personal days I have left. ...