From Restlessness to Rekindling

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Extinguished tealight candle

Photo from Pixabay.com

Note: I realize that the blog title does not align well with my current career. Considering that it has been a few years since I published anything on this, I’m letting it ride for now.

They were right. I can’t imagine that any other young teacher and coach heard, “If you keep pushing like that, you’re going to burn out,” more than I did during the first seven years or so of my career. With the sweet intentions of the characters in “The Christmas Story” who warned Ralphie that he’d shoot his eye out, people lovingly let me know that the all-day Saturday sessions with elementary girls during the basketball season, plus activities like camps and scouting could lead me to want nothing more than to be done coaching. I didn’t believe them because, well, I was about 30 years old then.

Looking back now, I realize that the burnout wasn’t as much about the single candle, but rather all of the ways that I didn’t have any flame left for the rest of my life. In particular, the 2007-08 girls’ basketball season competed with my commitment to our family, and it was gut-wrenching. I distinctly remember wondering how it was that I could be in a gym with 300 people, many of whom I considered friends, and feel so alone. With our oldest son being in first grade and our youngest peeking around the corner of turning three, my husband reserved his presence at games for Friday nights, listened when our games were on the radio, and still rode every rise and fall of that season’s roller coaster, with more interpersonal dynamics threatening to rip the fabric of our team than normal. Our family knew that I was going to recommit to them and invest more fully as a teacher when that final horn expired our season. I told the girls in the locker room that night and can remember the two-hour bus ride home featured some hardcore reflection and communication, mostly by way of text messages.

Sure enough, I reinvented myself as a parent and educator beginning in March of 2008. I learned about and implemented primary sources in history, blogged, mentored, collaborated with people inside and outside of my school district, and discovered abundant leadership opportunities. Through all of this, I became a better teacher – and then, the restlessness struck in a different way. My husband and I migrated to another area school district in 2015, which eased transportation for our family as our sons became more entrenched with their activities. That fall marked the beginning of my doctoral coursework and, eventually, the shift into being a teacher educator.

Just as they warned me about burning out, they would ask me if I would coach again. My most frequent answer to that question was a laugh, and some kind of comment like, “No, I’m done raising girls and need to be more involved in raising these guys now,” gesturing to Grant and Carson. The utter satisfaction I felt sitting in the recliner on summer and winter nights, formerly filled with league and regular season games, was another feeling I referenced in dismissing a return. In the midst of interacting with female athletes in my teacher education courses, I began fielding this question differently. Rather than swiftly denying a potential return to the ranks with a stodgy response, I would offer the hum of hesitation. Hearing the stories of their experiences, seeing how they connected with my recollections, and recognizing that society needed more female coaches stirred me to question not who I was, but maybe who else I was now. Additionally, I wondered how parenting life, three more years of school as a student, writing a dissertation, and three years as a teacher educator had molded who I was, particularly how I perceived and communicated with others.

About 80 days into this “Coaching Career 2.0,” I type with a giant smirk on my face because this is even better than I could have hoped. Being an assistant coach is a blast, and I appreciate that the head coaches with whom I have worked are wearing out their soles, often behind the scenes, while hoping that my presence can, in some way, help fortify their coaching souls. It can be taxing because decision fatigue is real, even if you are one of the brilliant ones who generally decides in a manner that others applaud.

In addition to supporting the other coaches, thinking about ways that my actions must offer representation for these young women, and being mindful of how much the families and kids have entrusted me to be part of their lives through these days on the softball diamond and the basketball court, I sense that I don’t need to be warned about getting burned out. My past perceptions of this field did not account for any of these factors. For as much as I have changed, I have no doubt that I am going to get burned out again, so I’m not going to fight that; instead, I am embracing it. However long this occurs, I am more focused on lighting other candles this time.

Around the same time that I pondered this return, my personal and professional friend from the Minnesota Historical Society reached out to see if I would be willing to be interviewed for a Title IX project she was doing, seeking perspectives from women about the impact of sports on their lives. We had that conversation during a morning in the early days of the softball season. In a move unlike something that younger me would have done, I shared the experience in our post-practice huddle that afternoon. I wanted them to realize that the interview was a thing because these experiences were not a guarantee for those who grew up in the past.

The candle flickers because I am invested in these young women – every fist bump, every attempt to refine their skills, and every time we razz each other. This crew has invited that from our first days together, and I am grateful that so many of them are in both softball and basketball, so the settings vary and nuances abound. During my first years of coaching, I didn’t realize how much that flame is burning during all of the mundane things that happen in-between the memories of funny dugout conversations and heart-to-heart conversations in which we confront those “I’m not good enough” voices that they are hearing. How fortunate I am to be in this position with responsive athletes and a supportive family who endure all of the processing that I do when I am with them.

My understanding of being authentic and compassionate is deeper than it was during my initial stint of coaching. When I ask the girls, “What do you need?” as they are assembling for a competition, they know that everything is on the table. When they ask me, “What should I have done differently?” after a play, I offer my best take – and I don’t think “1996 Me” would even recognize the voice that speaks in 2022. Supplying oxygen for the flame and maintaining the wick is a deep sense of purpose, knowing that navigating adversity helps a person learn about themselves.

Writing this during the closing week of our summer adventures allows me a chance to take inventory of contributions I have made knowing that this new beginning “worked,” and that the future offers opportunities to support these fabulous young women as they progress as athletes and, more importantly, as people. I am emboldened to know that the pilot light is glowing again and that passing along the flame is the only action to take.

Opening Communication

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Below is an excerpt from my opening letter to parents and guardians. It is intended to share my core philosophies. For this medium, I have omitted “sensitive” information relating to email and phone contacts. If you are a teacher, I hope you apply a means of opening communication lines as well. One thing I find particularly challenging is being brief enough that the recipients will take time to read the letter while still relaying important information.

Dear Parent or Guardian,

You are receiving this because I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity to teach your child in a history class for a term of the 2015-16 school year. I look forward to becoming acquainted with your child as I will likely see moments of triumph, struggle, curiosity, enthusiasm, and satisfaction.

My course load at Blue Earth Area High School includes American History and World History. During second semester, I will also teach AP (Advanced Placement) World History. While I am a rookie on the BEA staff, this is my twentieth year of teaching. I have taught both of these courses previously and have built the curriculum outline for them as well. You can access more details about the topics we will explore, test dates, and grading through my web site. In addition, I will be a technology coach for the high school staff. My other responsibilities at BEA will continue to be as a parent as our two sons are in eighth and fifth grade this year.

As we embark on this adventure together, I want you to be aware of a few things:

 

  • Your child will learn how to think critically about readings as well as non-text sources.
  • Your child will process and evaluate historical events.
  • Communicating understanding through various means including but not limited to formal writing, informal writing, speaking, and debates.
  • Your child will not be doing regular homework for this course.
  • Our class minutes will demand your child’s attention.
  • Grading will be standard-based; thus, daily work is primarily practice, and test items are designed to assess your child’s understanding of major concepts. (The “grading information” section of my web site provides more details on this.)

With that information shared, it is important that I offer further explanations. Regarding the first two items, history education has undergone major shifts in the past fifteen years. I was not among the earliest adopters of these changes, but I have embraced them. While content (events, people, dates) still matters, it is no longer “king” of history courses. Emphasizing historical thinking means that your child will be able to craft evidence-based arguments, develop a sense of the relativity and cause-effect nature of events, and create products that extend beyond a recitation of “facts” or dates that could simply be uncovered through a search engine like Google.

Due to multiple means of communication being used, you can expect that I will ask your child to step into the world of educational technology. The leap into technology as a medium to show understanding is sometimes large. Class time will include basic user guides to tools, but your child may occasionally seek additional support in mastering these tools. I am glad to provide this. Students will be asked to provide their “voice” in class at times. I know that this is particularly daunting for some students. Part of my job is to reduce inhibitions about this by fostering a safe class environment. I embrace this necessity and take responsibility for building it. Please support these efforts and encourage your child to grow in this life skill area. I will not evaluate students on public speaking skills, but being able to share ideas publicly – especially in small chunks – will be necessary in order to fully participate in class activities.

I want your child to succeed in this class. I want your child to enjoy this class. I want your child to feel like the skills and information acquired in class are valuable. While you share in the responsibility of this, I know that the degree to which these items are possible depends in large part on my actions like treating your child fairly, providing engaging activities, and making history relevant. I will communicate with you throughout the year, and I ask that you return that favor when it is convenient for you to do so. It would be helpful to know if you are seeing proof that we are achieving these principles. If I am doing something that prevents these principles from occurring, please share that as a concern. Your child is capable of being successful in this history class, enjoying the daily activities, and finding value in what we are doing.

 

The Unknown

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Image from https://pixabay.com/en/

About two months ago, my husband and I accepted teaching job offers at a neighboring high school, 17 miles of interstate from the one we had both called home for almost twenty years.  In doing this, we will join our sons’ school district and one we have connected with through other community actions. Education does not, by tenure policies or nature, encourage moves like this; however, my husband and I have both felt a resurgence in the processes that accompany starting anew.

Admittedly, numerous conversations and events of this week have my heart feeling a little heavy about the students we are leaving. On the last day of school, I had a few “choked up” moments and tried to exit in a way that honored how my students had grown because, even if we had stayed in the school district, they would not be “mine” in the same way anyway.

We had a quality meal and conversation with one family last Sunday and, since then, a series of events have reminded me of how much I truly enjoyed what I did and for whom I did it over the past 17 years. I won’t go so far as to say that I am regretting the move now, and I am probably too stubborn and determined to admit such a thing down the road either; however, it triggers thoughts of what is “known” versus that which is “unknown,” and how we face such contrasts.

I know a handful of the students I will teach next year. Likewise, I know and have been meeting a number of my colleagues. What brings both trepidation and exhilaration is the unknown. What characteristics are within the people I think I know that are still invisible to me? What levels of thinking can still be unveiled? What skills will I help advance? What discoveries will I make with the support of these folks? What will the relatively barren classroom feel like when I actually start calling it “my room”?

Embarking on this has parallels with summer travels. In my experiences, it is rarely an event on the pre-planned itinerary that becomes the signature moment of a vacation. The stories we tell years after a trip typically stem from something remarkable that was not anticipated. When we allow ourselves to accept that our actual experiences and relationships trump our original vision, the unknown becomes more magical than we could have designed it to be.

While I do not know what the future holds, I know that many gifts await me. In addition, I have a responsibility to let myself embrace all of the mysteries, from where I will eat lunch to which students need me to invest in them.

 

Tech Action Plan

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Photo from Pixabay.com

Photo from www.pixabay.com

I may need to do some binge blogging over the next month. My mind is racing with thoughts, and it is hard to know which direction to go since my professional compass has been spinning so much since March. (Cliffhanger: I’ll deal with those changes in another post.) Summer is an ideal time to weigh technology options for the upcoming year. What should educators do to make sure they are a level up by the next time eager students are seeking their direction? (In June, all images relating to students in my head convey giddiness.)

TOOLS – Select three new tools and learn how to use them. Bookmarking, retweeting, or electronically filing the tool or website does not count. Roll up your sleeves and get your keyboarding fingers dirty while seeing what each tool can accomplish. It does not matter if you are pioneering the tool for your school or replicating something that the colleague across the hall has been using for two years. Create a product with the tool and save it so when your activity comes to fruition next year, you can show your students evidence of your learning and prove that the tool works.

ALIGNMENT – Align your “finds” with a task. What activity has been difficult to assess? What have your students been “flat” or discouraged in examining? How can your shiny, new technology find transform something that has been a dud for you and your students? A teacher is going to be more likely to take a risk if the payoff is bigger. Use this new gadget to inspire a topic or skill that has been one of your weak spots. More importantly, identify that simply using the tool is not sufficient to guarantee improvement. Having apps, extensions, and websites kicking around your head like ping pong balls in a bingo barrel will only overwhelm you. The key comes in figuring out if that “number 11” belongs in the “B” column or if it is actually better suited for the “0” column. Sorry to take that bingo analogy so far, but the educator interpretation of that is to determine if the tool will work best for delivery, discovery, collaboration, formative assessment, summative assessment, or multiple purposes. It might be wise to create a table to record the pairings.

PREPARATION  – Design at least one activity within the context of a lesson and unit. Play architect with your new discovery as though you were going to launch the lesson tomorrow…and save it so you will find it when you get there next year. Besides having a lesson completely ready (hey, just 179 more to go), this may ignite more summertime preparation, ideally with the other tools you selected. In addition, your course unit may take shape. Creating a cornerstone lesson is like finding the perfect piece of furniture and realizing that the rest of the room is enhanced by its presence. As circumstances demand adjustments, it will still be possible to make those; however, those are less overwhelming with the skeleton of a solid lesson framed.

What will be on tap for your students when they return? How will you quench their desire to learn? How will you serve something they have never tasted? If you are taking advantage of professional development opportunities and getting exposed to new ideas, apply these steps to ensure that these hours are not merely time spent or a check cashed. Use this gift of time to become a more effective instructor who heightens student understanding and interest.

Beyond the Boundary Lines

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This is one of those posts that I may regret sharing online. However, I’m pretty certain that the worldwide web is not as daunting of an audience as a school assembly would be for this. If you’re hoping for a handy history lesson, document wizardry, or implementation with a nifty tech tool, just close the window and have a pleasant day…no harm done.

As a wife, mom, and teacher, my degree of success is constantly defined by what I perceive the recipients of my daily tasks experiencing. Their happiness and ability to conquer what they face measures my ability to support and prepare them (and, for my husband and our sons, that includes making sure their clothes are clean). In these roles, I find that it’s easy to get caught up in what is probably a variation of narcissism, but is unselfish at its roots.

For a variety of reasons, including the anticipation of Christmas, I’ve been contemplative lately. It has been self-analytic, not for the gains of my husband, sons, or students; however, it strikes me that it is the cornerstone in my ability to serve them.

In college, I was a resident adviser, competed in sports, and spent a couple months student-teaching. Each of these experiences was pivotal in shaping me. Occasionally, I also attended a Bible study with one of my teammates in which a lady guided us through the book of Psalms. One night she had selected Psalm 16 and told me that it had me in mind. I like words, and if she had told me that a song on the radio made her think of me, I would have thought that was cool. The core verse she referenced was Psalm 16: 6 “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places…” Oh, that. Yeah, even though she didn’t live in the athletic world, it was pretty obvious that I was overmatched where I was trying to compete. When you are almost 20 years old and have a “runt-of-the-litter” body, intercollegiate athletics display your shortcomings. At the time, I believed that those were the boundary lines, or limitations, that God had given me.

Let’s hit fast-forward to two years ago. The 18 years in-between had not been rife with misery nor perfect, but I found that my limitations had hit a new level. In November, I began feeling stiffness in my fingers and attributed it to keyboard and cell phone use knowing that my job and personal life were incorporating those tools and actions around the clock. Eventually, deep throbbing at the bases of my fingers and in the ball of my foot told me that there was something much more fundamental breaking down. It hurt to catch a ball. It hurt to flex my hands. On December 26, 2012, I had an appointment and found out shortly thereafter that I was a “rheumatological nightmare” with both lupus and rheumatoid arthritis.

My “boundary lines” as I saw them that day looked thick. They scared me right down to my eroding joints. An aggressive drug regimen would begin, and I could continue doing other things as long as I felt okay doing them. I am purposely vague in saying “things” because I had just resumed lifting weights around this time and I was well-aware that part of my classroom routine (and effectiveness) demands being on the move. Losing either of these physical activities would have been devastating.

I could elaborate on so many aspects of this – the vitamin supplements, my sister who is truly my “sister” in this disease (she contracted it at about the same age in her life and is years farther in this journey than I am), the need for a weekly pill container, and the support of those whom I have pulled aside to say, “Okay, I need to tell you something about me.” I could write for many more pages and tell about figuring out ways to counter fatigue, a random hip soreness (on my 39th birthday), not being able to be a blood donor (ever) because of the medication I have to take, or compulsively telling a class of juniors and seniors in Psychology that I’m not as healthy as they might think. Each of those items is just a sideshow.

What washes over me in all of this is that 104 weeks later, my quality of life is actually better than it was prior to my diagnosis. I lift better than I did, I live better than I did, and I love better than I did. At the core of that experience for me is being able to recognize blessings. Expressing gratitude has become more of a habit, and I am aware of how much warmth I experience simply because others provide it.

At one time, I tried competing with women while being physically undersized. I became tougher from that. Ultimately, I understand that grace, medication, working at a job I love (most days), and not cheating on diet, sleep, or exercise, are at the heart of positive progress with this condition; however, feeling physically healthy is only part of this equation. I am surrounded by blessings in the forms of my husband, sons, and students. What amazes me is that it doesn’t stop with this core! Celebrations and fun events dot the schedule of the upcoming days. In the presence of the family members and friends who will be part of these, I will experience even more joy. Through these people, I am deeply aware of how the rest of the “boundary lines” situation unfurls. Thankfully, there is more to the story. As Psalm 16:11 states, “You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.” I am strong for those who need me most when the faith and wisdom associated with these experiences undergird my actions.

How to start a war

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I have approached our Civil War unit in a different manner this year. We opened with three days of activities revolving around the collection of documents offered by the DBQ Project. On the first day, students worked to determine how to categorize the documents into overarching causes of the war. It was wise to tell them which documents to group together because, even with that assistance, some of my sophomores struggled with the logistics of what to name the categories. The most challenging one may have been the first one with the category of “economic differences between the North and the South.” Revealing the categories, and thus the causes of the war opened our second day of study. After a Pear Deck presentation with references to each of the other causes and some connecting material, the bulk of the time of the second day was devoted to a single-paragraph essay using the first four documents to give evidence of the economic differences. This relates to our long-term goal of working with historical documents and using writing to express understanding of these primary sources. A short task pinpoints weaknesses in terms of structure, communication, or document use better than our “usual” five-paragraph essay. I liken success to this with using a “whole-part-whole” method in coaching. In exploring the issue of slavery, students were asked to complete a “Fake Twitter” assignment, which required supplemental instruction on the tool and a couple of the topics students were expected to include.

After working through the causes, we accounted for secession and then opened our look at the war’s actual fighting. It is challenging to examine wars sometimes because students with a penchant for history may have an in-depth understanding of each military maneuver and a precise understanding of the weapons employed. Meanwhile, other students enter the course unit no more than “aware” that the war being studied occurred. Addressing achievement gaps and differentiation are enmeshed in all we do as teachers, but – in the land of teaching history – studying a war exacerbates this issue. Offering links to various websites that provide more detail on the leadership, battles, and other specifics will occur in our second week on this topic. Some students will get so involved in these that I will fear they have lost the underlying information behind it; others will not do one more click than is expected of them in a class period.

Decorative tapeVarious types of decorative tape on popsicle sticks sorted student groups randomly as we opened our next day on the Civil War. Upon being assembled into these groups, an additional receptacle had numbers that students drew to determine their roles in two other tasks on the day. An opening textbook reading that introduces the fighting phase by telling about shots fired on Fort Sumter employed the “MVP” reading strategy. (This also establishes a sport-themed link.) Our principal shared this strategy from “Designating the MVP: Facilitating Classroom Discussion About Text” by Carolyn Strom in The Reading Teacher, October 2014 (Vol. 68, #2, pp. 108-112).

M – main idea

V – vivid mental image of the overall text

P – phrase that stays

Each number assigned the student a particular role within this; groups that had four students rather than three were instructed to have their “4” share either a “V” or a “P” from the material.

In the next textbook segment, the Union and Confederate advantages, disadvantages, and strategies, were shared through graphs, a map, and a series of paragraphs. After reading and recording this information, I explained that a pep talk is used to motivate, but it also lets a side see what its focus should be, while addressing what are believed to be the key factors in being victorious. In addition, these speeches sound different whether you enter the contest with the upper hand or are generally an underdog. While explaining this, I also make a connection to pre-game analysis letting spectators know what to expect from each side.  [I am also careful to mention that this is an analogy we use to examine a war, and that it is not meant to diminish war to something that functions primarily as entertainment for much of our society. In reading about the early battles of the Civil War, it is maybe all-too-familiar to see people viewing war so casually.]

The culminating activity occurred – again with the drawn numbers assigning student roles – with some “stadium rock” to set the tone. After brief preparation of what to say, the four tasks were executed:

North pep talk

South pep talk

Analyst (knows it all, wants to tell spectators what to anticipate)

Fact-checker (accuracy, fills in if things are left out, like a second analyst)

Students embraced this activity. As they prepared for the culminating activity, the intensity was palpable, and some students truly got into character with some fist-shaking and phrases like, “Go team!” to conclude their speeches. What made this unique compared to other cooperative activities like this that I have set up was the attentiveness with which students listened to each other. They were seeking to learn more because the format was engaging, and I think they also had been drawn in by the range of activities that preceded this.

I look forward to modifying this pattern slightly for some, if not all, of the other wars we examine this year. In terms of a formula, this method worked extremely well and played to readers, writers, and speakers, on different days. With the document set and the textbook material on advantages, disadvantages, and strategies, exploring graphs and other visuals seemed to make the information accessible to more students. It also made the volume of information less daunting.

The next challenge: to meet or top this with the rest of this course unit. Fortunately, the fiery political debates, Lincoln’s resolve, following up on how the initial factors played out, and some fascinating events, will provide plenty of fodder for us. Students will grow in their understanding, but I think they have already grown in their view of history as a living class, not just a class about the dead.

 

Building Connections with Movenote

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Last summer I set out to “flip” my vocabulary instruction in order to save class time. Armed with the web-based tool https://www.movenote.com/presentation/record, a Chromebook with a camera, and lists of vocabulary terms for each unit, I created Google presentation shows with images from Pixabay to bring vocabulary terms to my students. While I was only somewhat successful at the original objective, a number of other magical things happened through these videos.

Screenshot 2014-08-02 at 6.40.48 AM

Each term’s slide contains a description for the term – not the “textbook definition” of it – as well as an image associated with it. In the presentations, I offer an example and non-example for each term as well. (Occasionally, the non-example is such a stretch that I omit it.) This is a method derived from Marzano’s vocabulary strategies.

In terms of instruction, this method accomplished the desired results and was actually more accurate than past methods in which – while presenting to multiple sections throughout a day – I would sometimes draw a blank for one class or come up with a better example for another class. To share the presentations, I used two methods. I posted links to them on our class website hosted on our school’s site and created QR codes for them. I had papers with the QR codes in our classroom and, on average, about three students preferred this method and would watch the videos on their phones.

While watching the presentation, students were to record the information provided. When I execute this in the future, I will definitely scaffold this with a pre-made form early in the year. Few students included columns for image, example, and non-example on their documentation when left to do so on their own. They overestimated their ability to understand the terms with only descriptions.

Most of my students had a technology device in this process, but timing and convenience factored in on how these presentations were used as well. When our course units lasted at least two weeks, I expected students to watch the presentations on their own outside of class. For units that were shorter, we would watch the presentations in class.

When we watched the presentations in class, I realized that my intentions of using this instructional method to save time represented a sliver of its actual benefit. I gained insight in watching students capture information during these time periods; normally, I am so busy “working” that I miss out on the intricacies of how students work. Rolling the presentation on the “big screen” in my classroom while I was there freed me to circulate, observe, and offer assistance. There was some natural discomfort in watching and hearing myself, which showed a human side my students don’t always see. On these presentation days, I would see necks crane to see the screen and that “What’s she going to do this time?” expression on my students faces. It struck me that this presentation method unveiled more than I expected. Students who didn’t usually laugh or display warmth in class reacted to these with smiles, laughter, and other symptoms of visible engagement.

By letting students see me in various settings for the filming locations – almost every room of our home, our yard, my classroom, the principal’s office (by permission) – I invited them to new places. I didn’t always wear my school clothes for these. One of my colleagues thought this was invaluable for reducing some of the intimidation students experience. I was just “being me” during the presentations. Our children made occasional “cameo” appearances in these. It might have been manipulative, but sometimes you need to give people what they want! Our nine-year-old son took the headset for this two times (with the assistance of a script) and was a HUGE hit! He captivated my students in a way that made me envious.

Screenshot 2014-08-02 at 7.22.35 AM

While attempting to streamline my class procedures, I discovered that Movenote didn’t turn me into an Oz-like voice behind a curtain. In fact, it gave students a new way to see their scary American History teacher. It also showed my willingness to employ new tactics to extend learning to them. I look forward to using this tool in the future. Teachers who use this will find that it integrates well with Google Docs, offers view statistics, and provides an option for emailing presentations to students individually. (This could potentially be employed with a sign-off for parents if students aren’t taking the responsibility to watch these on their own.)

A complete sample of one of these presentations I created is found here: https://www.movenote.com/v/whGFrSvl2PN . I hope that more teachers explore this pathway to their students’ learning, and I look forward to improving my use of it as well. It is a free tool and could also be used by students to create presentations.

 

Expanding Influences

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500 miles of driving separate my cousin from me. She and I have grown closer in our adult years in terms of other means of measurement. We intentionally exchange parenting stories, book ideas (mainly for our elementary-aged sons), and teaching experiences because high school sophomores and college law students offer many lessons for their instructors. I grew up in rural Minnesota, and she cut her teeth in suburban Chicago. Recently, my appreciation for her influence on my life has become more palpable because our most recent visit to her house reintroduced me to sparkling water. I don’t think I had consumed one of these beverages in 20 years, but it became more attractive this summer as I seek substitutes for pop. A recent sale on this product at our local grocery store prompted my husband to say, “That’s because it’s horrible; no one buys it.” At a different point in my life, I would have agreed, but I suddenly have this acquired affinity for the bubbly water. In applying this concept to my professional life, it made me think more about the nature of what drives change. New ideas “find us” when we forage new places and people for them.
I would be hard-pressed to find something I value in my personal or personal life that wasn’t initially foreign to me. While I certainly embrace many core beliefs of my upbringing and early training as a teacher, a multitude of practices in my current classroom  have arisen due to “outside” influences. To the outside eye, my implementation of these ideas seems bizarre. Standards-based grading, use of primary documents, and the combination of refining these, engaging students through technology, loosening our textbook’s grip on us, and incorporating a class Twitter account were mileposts of the past three years. I’ve tracked some of these changes in past blog posts, and – while a leap of faith always accompanies innovation for me – the key is in the ideas’ origins. 
My cousin exposed me to a new drink. Rick Wormeli’s Fair Isn’t Always Equal led me to standards-based grading. A MnCHE workshop taught me how to use primary documents in instruction and assessment. Thinking Historically by Stephane Levasque (“delivered” to me by a trusted member of my Twitter PLN) is one outside source driving my mind this summer. Technology workshops in our district, from EdCamps, and a GAFE Summit have introduced tech tools. I have new ideas to explore from my husband’s AP training. This week I joined a group of Minnesota teachers on Voxer that has opened more windows for ideas. My MnCHE colleagues’ presentations at a recent workshop added to my unofficial to-do list for the next four weeks just as various tweets I read lead me down paths to consider. It makes my head spin to take inventory of these, but it makes me smile too.
People and ideas enter our lives on a regular basis. How can we embrace them better? How can we look for irregular ways to change our actions? Unless a teacher is entirely content with student results or wants to dismiss a responsibility in influencing these, it seems ridiculous to be idle. It reminds me of this passage from the television series The West Wing: “Take This Sabbath Day” quotation. Find something or someone new to influence you as you embark on your 2014-15 adventure. Figure out how to make it yours so that you vault student performance to new levels.

Sparkling Water Stash

Sparkling Water Stash

 

 

 

Tech + Social Studies 2013-14 Highlights

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I’m departing from my typical post to provide some reflective thoughts to kick off July. I’ve enjoyed my summer so far, but I haven’t found the time or inspiration to invest in any of my professional projects yet. I have dabbled in a few things like the “ThingLink Challenge” activities. Our family traveled to Washington, D.C. I’ve worked a little on a project for an upcoming MnCHE workshop. Exercising and leisure reading have also been priorities. Rather than a wordy post, I thought I’d piece together some lesson-specific information that showcases the way technology can support student learning in an American History class. These activities can certainly be adapted depending on student age-level and subject area.

The first set of activities are “tested” and the second set are “untested” – or shall we say in “egg” form? – at this point.

“Tested” Activities

  • Use a video creation tool like Animoto or Stupeflix to offer support or criticism for a government program, presidential action, political candidate, philosophy, practice, or product.  My American History 10 students used Animoto to create a public service announcement to either support or criticize one of Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society programs.

 

  • Find primary documents that provide insight to core questions for a course unit. Students need to be able to distinguish primary sources from secondary sources in order to complete this.  When we did this in American History 10 in 2013-14, we examined the Cold War with this activity. This “Smore” flyer provides an overview.

 

  • Students prepare identities and interact with each other via “Speed Dating” to gain understanding of how a particular era was rife with conflicting values. We did this with the 1920s in American History 10 – 1920s Speed Dating.

“Untested” Activities

  • Tell the story of an event in history using the combination of a Historypin collection or tour AND an article from the Chronicling America database.
  • Students share a main idea of a primary source AND a reaction to it using Tellagami (which is app-based) or Movenote (which integrates with Google Docs well and would be better if you want students to show “print” of content and then give a vocal reaction).
  • Students are given an identity to represent (or “role”) and collaborate about  a primary source on a Padlet wall.
  • Students create a Thinglink or Prezi that uses images to convert a primary document into a series of images that summarize its core ideas.

Document Delights

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Over the past two years, I have incorporated documents in my American History 10 course. It has been a boon for advancing interest, building authenticity, and nurturing literacy skills. One of my perpetual struggles with this is knowing how often to ask students to write a five-paragraph essay that uses the documents to build a response to a question. Expecting this too frequently can lead to a student mutiny due to either fatigue or falsely capping one’s ability as well as running the risk of giving a teacher the equivalent of “highway eyes” while evaluating 150 of these in one weekend. This year I began implementing other ways of working with documents. With this post, I’ll reflect on using an image string, blackouts, and sequencing/speaker identification to allow students other means of interacting with historical documents. It is no accident that this series of alternative ways to work with documents occurred during our final two course units of the school year.magnifying-glass-97588_640

Two different lessons that used an image string maximized curiosity and extended themselves to a wide range of students. When helping students grow in terms of literacy skills, the use of words can occur either in reading or reflecting. By reducing the words on the “front” side of the activity, some students actually find more to say in their written and verbal representations of events. I used this National Archives lesson to show students images related to the call for school desegregation. These images stuck with students so well that I could reference “the dingy auditorium with a conglomerate of chairs that resembled the by-product of asking all of your aunts and uncles to bring a dozen for a graduation party” and see the memories ignited. An ingredient that helped this lesson flourish was the presence of questions, “How do you organize these four images? What do they reveal about school segregation practices?”

In a similar lesson (presented to learning clubs in the style of a silent debate),students examined photographs from this Washington Post gallery to explore the Watergate scandal. As students looked at four of the images, they chipped in on their group’s information-gathering sheets. Individually, the images didn’t reveal much; likewise, individually, a student might struggle to make sense of the event. Collectively, the images and group observations yielded a more complete story. After students worked with these, we pooled the thoughts of all groups in a full-class discussion in which I recorded what they had concluded from their examination of the objects of Watergate. Within about 40 minutes of class, they realized that this series of objects could have been used to gather information from a political opponent that would help Nixon develop counteractions. We proceeded to examine the event in the form of its impact on Nixon’s career and the nation.

As a follow-up lesson to the Watergate work, I started our class period of examining the Ford and Carter presidencies with this DocsTeach image: “Half Right and Half Wrong” letter. Employing the “blackout” technique, students were told that they would learn what this letter was addressing during the course of the lesson. Again, this built curiosity – once the impulsive students realized that the month and day of September 11 were merely coincidental rather than profound in revealing the message of the third-grader’s letter. I still recall the moment when one of my 2nd-hour students, upon hearing that President Ford pardoned Nixon, audibly gasped at recognizing the significance of that opening prompt.

Toward the end of the year, my husband (who teaches AP American History in our school) and I discussed how little we did to build student skills related to contextualization and sourcing despite knowing that our “industry standard” at SHEG encouraged these skills. After taking extractions from the documents posted on the 9/11 Memorial & Museum site, I challenged students to read these excerpts to determine the “speakers and sequence” of them. Student conversations began with statements like, “I feel like this must have been before September 11, 2001, because…” and “I think this speaker is reacting to the attacks.” Only a teacher puffs up and becomes teary-eyed when hearing students communicate like this! I was so proud of the way they justified ideas to each other and wrestled with nuances within the passages. It was interesting that my students didn’t get caught up in being right or wrong on this as much as they were recognizing that the series of documents shed light on the conception of the attacks, the call for American resolve in the wake of these events, and the military response in Afghanistan that followed. After opening with those excerpts, the foundation was set for further exploration of those horrific events.

As I look at ways to improve my American History instruction in future years, I know that I need to use more activities like this early in the year as well. I’ve been a believer in “whole-part-whole” instruction in guiding students to work with primary documents; however, I am convinced that using strategies like these early in the year would help generate greater awareness of the richness of documents while also building student perseverance rather than eroding it, as is sometimes a danger of churning out essays. It’s worth mentioning that building a culture of productive group work contributed to the effectiveness of these lessons. Each of them has a cooperative component that was instrumental in the lesson’s value because of the need for students to articulate ideas to each other. I’m excited to find new means of building engagement and understanding through documents in the future by adapting these strategies to fit other events we study.