Gecko Chronicles

For years now, the high-value incentive my students have always requested is a class pet. And like any sane teacher, I have responded with cringing, and laughing nervously, and sweating profusely, and circumventing the inevitable with field trips to pet stores and hosting "Pet Days" and borrowing temporary hamsters... UNTIL THIS YEAR!

This year, my very brave co-teacher and I went for it. Here's how we did it, how we made it educational, and how it has completely touched our hearts.

1. DECIDE RIGHT AWAY WHAT YOUR PERSONAL LIMITS ARE. Let's be real- at the end of the day (and school year), you are going to be the guardian of whatever little fella joins your class, so decide what you can and cannot do, and be straightforward with your students about it from the get-go. Obviously they are going to ask for anything from a puppy to a unicorn, so have your limit ready with real reasons why. For me, I decided on a small reptile because they are easy to clean up after, don't smell too bad, are relatively hardy, and hypoallergenic.

2. Research pet grants ahead of time so you know what is even available. I decided on the PetCo grant from Pets in the Classroom because they had the best selection of small reptiles. Be prepared for the fact that you will have to pay some things out of pocket including its day-to-day maintenance, but this grant took care of the expensive stuff like the habitat and the animal itself.

3. Involve students in the entire process! Don't let any teachable moment stone go unturned! There are SO many authentic learning experiences in each step of the journey to getting a class pet. We started with learning all about the potential pets by making a class chart of things we would like and would not like our new pet to have. I used the options in the Pet Grant to narrow it down to milk snake or bearded dragon (which was quickly changed to gecko when the kids got to meet an actual gecko owned by a middle school student). Then we formed a Snake Committee and a Gecko Committee and researched these two choices with books from the library and the internet.

Keeping our "Shoulds" and "Should Nots" in mind, we made co-created anchor charts of both pets with the information we found.

Finally, students used the pros and cons from these charts to write persuasive pieces on their favorite choice of pet to sway the class' votes. I also told them I was using their work to apply for the grant and made a big deal about how they were going to prove to the Pet Grant people that we deserve this pet.

This experience was also an opportunity to apply citizenship skills and practice democratic classroom principals. We discussed at length how no matter what, some of us were not going to get our first choice, and how we would react when the results came in. Also, let's not forget, they had to earn this whole experience in the first place with responsible community behavior!

4. Constantly reiterate that our job is to be good caretakers to the pet, not for the pet to entertain us at all times. Once it was decided we were getting a gecko, I applied for the grant and kept the students posted on our progress. In the meantime, we learned all about gecko care and made plans and agreements for when our new friend arrived. I'll be honest... Some of the "Milk Snake" team were not the most gracious of losers, and loudly complained that our new gecko friend was boringgggg because it sleeps all day and they never get to see it eat and bla bla bla. I plastered on a deaf smile and ignored these developmentally appropriate 5th grade whines, and once these students had a chance to handle and help care for the gecko, they too got on board with being gecko-guardians. 

Meet "Hess the Gecko" (or as he's known as in some circles, "Yung Geck"). 

Probably the most heart warming part of all, is how sweet and gentle and serious the students are about taking care of our pet. I always have a small handful of volunteers to stay in during the afternoon to handle the gecko and help clean out water dishes or pick out dead crickets. They take turns, and take to heart their duty to put the gecko's well being first. Even my most hyperactive of students finds an inner calm within when its his turn to hold and stroke and examine sweet young Hess. 

With intention, getting a class pet is a character building and learning-filled experience that can have a huge positive impact on the lives of kids. They practice teamwork, research skills, speaking and listening, responsibility, community building, stewardship to nature, and let's face it, our gecko is just plain adorable to boot. 

DISCLAIMER: Gecko lifespans are 20+ years (!!!)... Only for the teacher who is brave of heart and a little bit insane. 

A post about violence and hate and heartbreak for our world

I'm frantic with impotent despair. Life can't continue normally without acknowledging this gaping wound in our human world. There is a sickness, a hateful sickness in the air. I can't understand anything right now. I can't understand the butchering of young people in a bakery in Bangladesh. I can't understand how 200+ lives were blasted away by a car bomb in Baghdad. I can't understand all of the American black men killed by police. I can't understand these holes being torn into our families and our communities around the world. I want to patch them all up, demand someone pay, get revenge, make it stop, make it right. I can't post cute selfies, celebrate a birthday, fill my kitchen with good smells of cooking, or binge watch Netflix. Not until I take a moment to gaze directly into this painful monster of a thing, shine a light on it, poke the wound, feel it and see it and say out loud "this is real." 

Last week, I attended a 4th of July parade in a middle class white neighborhood. The cop cars idled by as part of the parade, flashing their lights, throwing candy and dog biscuits out the windows, and the (mostly white) children shouted and laughed and dashed around collecting the sweets. How different these early experiences of the police must be for these kids, compared to the ones in the predominantly black neighborhoods a few miles down the road. White people get to teach our children that they live in a world of law and order where justice exists and their lives will be protected. We can teach them "go find a police officer if you ever need help." When a cop car drives down our street, we may not even notice, or maybe a voice in the back of our minds says "oh good, this symbolizes safety." What about the mothers of black children? What very different lessons do they have to teach their children about how to stay alive and safe in this world? They teach their children not to walk too quickly when they see a police car, don't wear certain clothing, don't say certain things, never make a sudden movement, never run, never talk back, never argue or show anything other than docile respect when talking with a police officer... and still the body count of unarmed black men climbs. 

This is not me saying "cops are racist." Cops are not the problem. I think most cops are probably good people who want to protect and serve. The endemic racism built into the very structure of our society is the problem. Cops are not racist. Our culture is racist. People will argue with this truth because sadly, a hallmark feature of systemic oppression is that society is structured in such a way that the existence of this oppression is invisible to those with privilege. Peggy McIntosh famously said in her article, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack, "It seems to me that obliviousness about white advantage...is kept strongly inculturated in the United States so as to maintain the myth of meritocracy, the myth that democratic choice is equally available to all. Keeping most people unaware that freedom of confident action is there for just a small number of people props up those in power, and serves to keep power in the hands of the same groups that have most of it already" (McIntosh, 1988.... read the whole thing here). 

It's also easy to feel like my white voice doesn't have a place to speak on tragedies impacting the black community or cultures far away, but silence also means acceptance, and I can't accept this. I don't know what to do other than launch these words into the world and fill a tiny bit of silence to say, I denounce hate and violence, down the street from me and across the world. I will never stay quiet when conversations drift into uncomfortable territory, or when I need to challenge my own behaviors and assumptions, because I know those little seemingly innocuous seeds are deadly, and silence is the fertile soil in which they take root. And I want my black friends to know that these outrageous truths are not invisible to me; I see them, and I feel the crushing weight and heartbreak and anger for you. To the strangers in other countries, trying to live normal peaceful lives with the constant threat that a crazy violent extremist could appear in the grocery store and hurt you or someone you love... I see you. You matter to me.

There are so many people I have not mentioned yet: Victims of rape, domestic abuse, LGBTQ friends, enslaved people, immigrants being spat at in England, immigrants afraid of the same coming to the US, muslims around the world, the list is long. I guess this is all just a longwinded way to say, to the people of the world who are marginalized, terrorized, and reeling, I stand with you. I see you, and you matter. 

Why I Love Playing Soccer With My Students

It may be "just a game" but these are the ebbs and flows that define life when you're ten, and they should matter.

I absolutely love playing soccer with my students.

Here are a few of my thoughts on why:

1. My skill level is just about right to compete fairly against 10 year olds. I always play my best and I never go easy on anyone, and it's genuinely fun and challenging for all of us.

2. It's great exercise! Today I was winded multiple times which has to mean it was an amazing cardio workout, right??

3. I get to be in their world. 4th and 5th graders are at this completely charming phase where they are still pretty thrilled to play with adults. My kids welcome me in the game. I get to share all the tiny elations, suspenses, and frustrations played out in the space of an impromptu soccer game. Working together and living these mini-experiences alongside a teammate, it forges a bond. It builds trust. We're like Frodos and Sams out there. Reys and Finns, KC Undercover and whoever the heck her sidekick is. It helps me connect with them. 

4. I can model sportsmanship and teamwork in a completely authentic setting. So cheesy but so true! When things were clearly getting too heated and competitive between a few of my kiddos, I was able to say "This is no fun to play when we bicker!" We sat in the dirt and solved a problem that minutes ago had a boy red faced and storming off the field. Correction: We sat in the dirt and I moderated the discussion. THEY solved the problem and all I had to do was make them take turns talking! YOU GUYS! Seriously. [Heart Eye Emoji Here] 

5. It shows them that I care. My presence is like a social scaffold* for kids who need a little extra help engaging positively with friends. It also makes more timid, conflict-averse children feel safe to join in. Taking the time to say "yes" when a child asks "Want to play soccer with us?", giving it your all while you play, yelling "good job" "nice try!" and "that was awesome!" at the right moments, and when the time inevitably comes, sitting down in a circle in the dirt to work things out... I like to think that's something kids are going to notice. It certainly cultivates joy in your own heart!



*something that helps kids at all levels access an idea or concept, for you non-education folk.

Where I'm From Poem

I have to say, my school must have the best faculty meetings of anywhere! Today we discussed strategies for differentiation for kids with different types of learning or language impairments, and got to do a bit of creative writing ourselves in the process.  We used the famous "Where I'm From" poem by George Ella Lyon as our mentor text, and learned how to make this writing engagement accessible to more kids with strategies like fill-in-the-blank. Since I've already written a "Where I'm From" poem about myself in the past, I decided to take the opportunity to write from my dog's perspective and had a lot of fun doing it. Read my poem below!

Where I'm From

a Dog's poem

I'm from wet grass sniffs in the morning,
from rawhide and rubber bones.
I am from the warm flannel foot of the bed
pressed between the flanks of my people.
I am from pinecones I can carry in my mouth,
the Japanese maple where I found shade.
I'm from "Trudy, come!" and "Good dog"
From wrestling hard like big dogs do.
I'm from Lassie and Air Bud,
those canine heroes who paved the way.
I'm from chihuahuas and doxies,
and dobermans and retrievers,
seven pounds of the purest hound.
I'm from tug of war and window guarding,
a belly rub after a ball well fetched.
I'm from "sit" and "stay" and "hey perfect dog."
My red leash hanging by the door.
I'm from the sound of the car door slam.
My tail gets to whipping every time.
I whine for joy; my pack is home.

The History of the Egyptian Revolution and Collapse of the Political Infrastructure

by Ali Abou Elmagd

This is a guest article written by Egyptian University student, Ali Abou Elmagd. This piece was written with foreign readers in mind to help people outside of Egypt understand the dire situation within the country, and the efforts many are making to establish a stable and peaceful Democracy post-revolution. 

Please note: Some of the images and events described are of a graphic nature.

Part 1: The heyday of the revolution 

After Mubarak stepped down on February 11th, 2011, a Military Council took the reins of power in Egypt. Thus a new phase began in Egypt comprised of three essential powers: the Egyptian Army, a stream of political Islam known as the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafis, and a democratic movement made up of liberals and socialist leftists calling for a secular government. Egypt now became open in front of everyone, an open arena for the struggle for power. The revolution's youth were divided into two parts, one part belonging to the Muslim Brotherhood and another part belonging to the democratic movement.

After the revolution on March 7th, 2011, A new government formed. This new government wasn't revolutionary; it was a technocrats government, taking its orders from the ruling military authority. On March 9th, 2011, the Egyptian army and police broke into sit-ins taking place in Tahrir square, where some of the democratic revolution's youth had been staying since January 28th, 2011. These forces took protesters to the Egyptian Museum and practiced the worst kinds of torture on them. They used electricity and whips on the men and a humiliating new technology for “virginity testing” on the women. It was an unmistakable and brutal message to the revolutionary powers, especially the youth.

The conflict heated up when the ruling military authority invited people to vote on constitutional amendments. On March 19th, 2011, an alliance formed between the military authority and the Muslim Brotherhood. They agreed to pass a constitutional declaration by mobilizing people to vote "Yes." While the democratic movement was mobilizing to vote "No," the ruling military authority worked for the opposite, playing on religion, on Salifis and the Brotherhood’s widespread popularity, and their ability to manipulate simple people.

Children hold a banner urging citizens to vote "Yes" on constitutional amendments (source)

The result was that 77% voted "Yes" and 22% voted “No." This referendum was a turning point in the Egyptian revolution. Part of the revolution stood with the Muslim Brotherhood, and another part stood with the secular democratic movement.

On March 30th, the ruling military authority decided to issue a constitutional declaration. This declaration contained some texts that didn't exist in the constitutional amendments. They deceived people. The democratic movement lost the first round in this conflict but it was just the beginning. The democratic revolution's youth got angry and events escalated. On April 8th, 2011, some Egyptian army officers organized a sit-in in Tahrir square right next to some of the revolution's youth. It was insurgency, and the Egyptian army forces broke into Tahrir square and arrested the protesters.

Egyptian Officers in Tahrir Square on April 8th (source)

Egyptian officers lead protesters in Tahrir Square on April 8th (source)

On June 28th, 2011, a concert was held in the Balloon Theater to honor 50 of the revolution's victims. However, the Egyptian police prevented attendees from entry, and a skirmish followed. The conflict escalated, and the clash expanded and spilled into Tahrir square. It was a bloody day, with over 100 injured. After that day, the democratic revolution's youth realized that the police would use any means to suppress them. Congestion in the city increased, and the living and political conditions worsened.

Clashes in front of the Balloon Theater on June 28th, 2011 (source)

October 9th, 2011, was one of the bloodiest days in Egyptian history after the revolution. In a village in upper Egypt, some Muslim people decided to destroy a church. This made many Christians angry, and the Christians in Cairo organized a demonstration in front of the Radio and Television Building (the Maspero) protesting what happened in upper Egypt and demanding laws to protecting places of worship. On October 4th, protesters went to the Maspero where there was a huge number of people. They organized a sit-in in front of the Maspero, but the Egyptian army forces broke in to disband it, resulting in 6 injuries. The democratic movement was angered by the army's use of violence against peaceful protesters, and the Christian movement called for a large demonstration in front of the Maspero on October 9th. Many people belonging to the democratic movement said they would participate in this demonstration, and on October 9th, protesters went to the Maspero where a large force of the Egyptian army was waiting for them. The protesters reached their destination and the Egyptian army tried to break them up by force. The clashes that followed were brutal. It was another bloody day, with 24 dead and a large number injured.

A protester waves an Egyptian flag baring the slogan "Unity Between Christians and Muslims" (source)

The democratic movement condemned what happened and they asked the Military Council to bring the army commanders responsible for the massacre to justice. Unfortunately, the Military Council didn't listen and instead brought many of the protesters in for military trials. The gap widened between the democratic movement and the Military Council, and at the same time, the Muslim Brotherhood prepared for Parliament elections with the goal of gaining political authority. The tension increased between the democratic revolution's youth and the Military Council, and on November 18th, the Muslim Brotherhood organized a demonstration in Tahrir square in order to pressure the Military Council to hand over control of the country as scheduled. By the end of the day, most of the protesters left the square, but there were many people from the January revolution's victims who stayed in the square, sitting-in to protest against the violation of their rights.

On the morning of November 19th, a police force broke into Tahrir square and clashed violently with the protesters, a dispute that quickly escalated to bloodshed among the democratic revolution’s youth, Egyptian police, and the Egyptian army. The skirmish continued for 7 days until November 25th. The Egyptian security killed more than 90 people and more than 1,000 were left injured. Among the horrors, the security forces employed a tactic targeting the eyes, and more than 60 people lost their eyes as a result. It was a revolutionary massacre.

Protesters killed by the Egyptian army in Tahrir Square (source)

 The democratic movement implored the Military Council to hand over the government without delay, and the Military Council agreed and set a date to hand over the reins of power. Despite this, the sit-ins continued as the democratic revolutionaries no longer trusted the Military Council to keep its word. The sit-in moved from Tahrir square to the Council of Ministers headquarters. Late at night on December 15th, 2011, a force belonging to the Egyptian military kidnapped one of the protesters and tortured him inside the Parliament building before throwing him back out onto the street. The following morning on December 16th, the army forces broke into the sit-in and once again fighting erupted between the protesters and the military forces. It was another devastating moment in the revolution, with the fighting continuing for 8 days straight. Ultimately, the Egyptian army killed more than 18 protesters, and more than 900 were injured.

Members of the Egyptian Army attack and rip the clothing of a female protester in front of the Council of Ministers (source)

Rami Issam's shows the marks of being tortured (source)

On January 11th, 2012, Parliamentary elections ended with the majority of seats won by the Muslim Brotherhood and their allies.

Thus a new phase of violence and tyranny began…

What can teachers learn from sheep herders?

I like to joke that there are moments in my job when I feel like I am "herding cats." Often I will simply make meowing noises while I herd said cats, and my co-teachers/savvy students know what I mean. But until I actually stepped into the shoes of a shepherd and tried my hand at herding sheep and goats in the Jordan Valley this summer, I had no idea how many legitimate similarities there are between teaching and shepherding if you stop to think about it.

One of the first things we did fresh off the airplane was visit a fascinating natural space, a garden full of biblical era plants (at least that's what the curators of the land say). Even more excitingly for me, down a dusty deserty hill, there was a fenced in area where sheep and goats munched grass on uneven craggy rocks and otherwise ignored us. My group of 50 or so split into two teams, each with the same objective: get this group of animals to move into one of three designated areas marked around the enclosure before the time ran out.

Right away we were being asked to collaborate with a group we didn't know yet, which had its inherent awkwardness. We cobbled together a plan, and clumsily tried all kinds of absurd tactics to get these animals all flowing as one to the destination we had chosen. It was NOT easy! Neither of our groups made our goal, but in the debrief conversation that followed, I kept making connections to leading a classroom of children.

Here are some of the shepherding tips I think educators would be wise to consider. I'll let you draw your own parallels to the classroom:

• Get on the sheep's level. Speak their language to them.
• Yelling and intimidation don't work.
• Not all shepherds have to lead from the front of the flock.
• Be gentle and patient if one of your flock strays.
• You can achieve great results when you work as a team with other shepherds.

Being a teacher of children is in many ways a call to shepherd: to lead the way and keep our charges safe, to ensure they arrive at their destinations unscathed, to notice and redirect when needed. Although Israel and the lessons I learned there are now a summer of fun behind me, I hope I can still keep looking back and finding connections that will shape an incredible year of shepherding to come.

Post Grad Blues

Congratulations to me! I completed my Master's! This is how I have celebrated my first week of post-grad life:

Monday: Realize I don't have to go to class, treat self to mani-pedi.
Tuesday: Get home from work, type up a few things, then wallow in weird self-pity nap for next 4 hours.
Wednesday: Go to salon and chop off all my hair, enter into manically giddy mood.
Thursday: Give self good shake, roll up sleeves, draft this blog post detailing the arrival at following conclusions.

I'm the type of gal who lives her life from adventure to adventure, which is perhaps why big achievements and completion of goals leave me feeling mysteriously blue.

Last week, I officially graduated with a Master's from Georgia State University in Early Childhood Education. The past few years have been so essential and transformative, it's almost hard to track the growth I have made from the person I was to the person I am: so much of it has become intuitive.

The things I said I wanted from a graduate degree, I have achieved in spades:

• Teaching skillz; I have theory, research, methods, and strategies coming out the wazoo and I'm not afraid to use them!  
• Confidence: I pity the person who strikes up an education-based conversation with me... they are guaranteed to have their ear very cheerfully talked off. 
• "Professional clout" as I recall referring to it as: This is a product of combining the first two, the sense that I know what I am doing and I have the background and experience to push for what I believe.

This has landed me in strange new territory with a strange new question: What next?

For two years, "next" always referred to graduation. Then I graduated. So, what next? Now that I have no more assigned readings to complete, papers to write, or classes to attend, my afternoon schedule is dizzyingly light. And what should have felt like a huge culmination was somewhat anti-climactic, perhaps because I did not attend any ceremonies or sign any oaths in blood. I don't know what I expected would mark my transition from student to graduate, and although I smile and receive the congratulations of well-wishers and assure them "yes I am so happy, I am so relieved to be done!", I am hiding a weird secret sadness. Despite how I know I should feel, the truth is that the extra hours in my post-graduation schedule have felt oppressive rather than liberating.

Hanging over the whole affair is that same sticky question: Seriously, Katie, What next? It's an exciting question in its open-endedness and limitless possibility, yet a frightening one in its sheer broadness and lack of direction. One thing I have learned in my reflective practice is that one's weaknesses tend to remain one's weaknesses, and lacking concrete vision, structure, and direction has been a longterm challenge for me. Without the guidance of school telling me what to learn next and where to point my energy, I worry I will fizzle out in a beautiful burst of earnest flame.

Enter: REALITY Pro 2015, a 10 day professional development experience in Israel for education reformers.

(via REALITY Pro website)

As I receive the pre-trip information, (listening in on conference calls that describe things like leadership building exercises with sheep herding in the Jordan valley, receiving pre-trip assignments like writing statements of purpose and reflection) my little academic's soul is soothed with the structure and familiarity of it all. Hooray! I get to enter into intellectual territory and adventure, with guides and facilitators scaffolding my journey! I get to write and converse and be challenged and moved! It is just the lift I need to finish up my year of teaching and look ahead to the next one with some semblance of purpose and drive.

While I know I can't expect this trip to magically cure all of my blues, I do see it as a vital next step in cultivating my post-graduate habits of mind. I want to keep asking questions and investigating answers, challenging myself to be my best self, and serving young minds and the global community. And now that I know the steps to taking action, I have no excuses. Getting on a plane to go across the world to herd sheep and climb mountains is one thing, but meeting the likeminded educators and stakeholders from around the world will be quite another, and may just be the push I need to move from Post-Grad Blues to Post-Grad Action. I hope you will keep visiting this space to follow me on this journey. In the meantime, you can watch my extremely dorky application video below and help me remind myself about the teacher and change-agent I am striving to be.