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.  

Choreography of a Conference: A Reader's Response to Carl Anderson's "How's it Goin" (Chapters 6 & 7)

Once again I am grateful for Carl Anderson's user-friendly style of writing as he unpacks the steps of effective conferencing. Below are some of the things that squared with my thinking (square), pointed me in new directions (triangle), and continue to circle in my mind (circle).

Square:

The idea of going to the students for the conference (rather than have the students come to you) really squared with my thinking. Without realizing the meaning behind the choice, it is something I already do in my classroom. It makes sense to me that if you are positioning students as writers and authors, you should show them the respect of coming to them to discuss their work. It also makes sense that having students come to the teacher's space (like their desks) would make them less comfortable as Anderson points out. He reflects on conferences where students came to his desk, saying, "my students seemed to freeze up the moment they arrived there, a natural response, after all, given that my desk was a symbol of my authority and power as a teacher" (Anderson, 2000, p.156). I appreciate this careful consideration Anderson gives to the psychological implications of conference spaces.

I also strongly agree with Anderson's thoughts on 'fix-up' conferences and the unnecessary neurosis about making student final drafts 'flawless' (p.166). He brings to light many reasons why we sometimes feel pressured to make sure student final drafts are completely perfect, but reminds us that "We have to keep in mind that our goal in conferences is to help students become better writers" (Anderson, 2000, p.166). In other words, our goal is not to make sure every single piece of writing is a work of perfection, but to look for the growth the student is making as a writer.


Triangle:

I love the idea of keeping track of who you are conferring with and when. The anecdote about overlooking quiet and independent students was all too familiar to me, and the idea of keeping a simple record to guide next conference steps seems like a fairly simple solution. Similarly, the qualitative records Anderson keeps make sense and could help me keep organized. Sometimes when I confer with students, I get inspired and make mental notes to revisit something, but I never follow through, or I can't remember if I had already given the present student the advice in mind or if it was with someone else. I appreciate how Anderson includes his very simple forms but also acknowledges alternative ways and reminds us that "each teacher needs to use forms that reflect their own individual needs, tastes, and personalities" (Anderson, 2000, p.162). Personally, I like the one Anderson uses for its simplicity and ease to recreate, and the idea that they could be used across the year to measure growth.

I also really like the idea of using sticky notes to keep students accountable for what they are supposed to try next in their writing (p. 165). I could see myself using this to scaffold greater independence for some of my writers.

Anderson makes some good points about when to schedule conferences and whether they should be initiated by students or by teachers or some combination. At first I thought it would be best to honor the choices of the students, but I changed my mind when Anderson brought up some of the downsides to this method. I could definitely see the same students signing up all the time and the same students not signing up because of shyness or unawareness that they need a conference. It also makes sense that sometimes a conference is a good idea for a writer who does not think he or she is struggling. It seems to be a balancing act between student choice and teacher expertise as guide, and once again, Anderson puts it back on us to decide what works best for our unique classrooms and teaching styles.

I like a lot of the suggestions Anderson has about helping writers become more independent, and the diagnostic questions teachers can ask when things break down. While I had some circling questions about some of the expectations (below in my "circle" section), many of the ideas he share seem very usable to me. While intellectually I know students need to be invested in their work, Anderson actually gives me strategies to make it happen, such as publishing more often. It was an Ah-hah moment for me to understand that "publishing" doesn't have to be some elaborate to-do, and in fact a strategy I have used in the past works just fine as a publishing event: having students circulate a room and read and write comments on peer work (p.179). I also think I could use things like goal-setting and peer conferencing.


Circle:

Many of my students struggle with handwriting. For this reason, we have begun to encourage them to type more often, and I feel like this relieves a lot of the pressure they feel, helps their ideas flow more freely, and enables self-conscious writers to take greater risks. There is also no danger of a student forgetting his or her draft if you know it is on the computer or on the google drive. The downside is it's harder to keep track of progress through drafting. I wonder what Anderson would think about allowing students to type instead of hand write their multiple drafts, as this would completely change his list of what students should have with the for writing conferences (p.165).

I was a bit surprised to learn that Anderson shoots for conference lengths of about 5 minutes apiece (p.169). This seems like no time at all! On the one hand, it points me to a new direction to realize conferences can be short and sweet, but on the other hand I still find it hard to believe 5 minutes would be enough time. I suppose that if the class is in a routine and the conferences happen regularly, they can be short and to the point because everyone knows the procedure. I just wonder how Anderson would respond to a situation where a student needs more time to discuss or more of his one on one attention to guide their next steps.

"For us to be able to confer, it's essential that the students with whom we aren't conferring are able to work independently for sustained periods of time" (Anderson, 2000, p.171). This seems like a no-brainer, but it's easier said than done. I got some good tips from the way Anderson breaks down implementing this, but I'm unsure if Anderson has put any thought into how these strategies would be adapted for students with disabilities in an inclusive classroom such as mine. I agree that predictable routines can smooth transitions, and Anderson asserts that "When our students know exactly what to do during the workshop, they will be able to work on their writing independently, and we will be able to give our full attention to conferring" (Anderson, 2000, p.172). Perhaps, for typical students, but what about students with attentive challenges? When discussing how to teach independence, Anderson shares an all too familiar scene that I recognize from my own classroom, and assets that "students must be able to work on their writing independently for a sustained period of time-- half an hour or more-- if we're going to be able to confer effectively" (Anderson, 2000, p.176). Despite the useful tips on supporting students to find writing ideas and get un-stuck in their writing, 30 minutes can be quite a long time for a student with ADHD, and I'm not sure these tips would be helpful for a student with limited abstract imagination like a student on the spectrum for autism. I'm open to trying the techniques Anderson outlines in his "Diagnostic Questions" and really appreciate the democratic aspect of having students weigh in on solving a persisting problem. I would just want to make sure I am not neglecting some students by letting them slip through the cracks of writing workshop because they failed to be independent and I was otherwise occupied. Thank goodness in my situation I have a co-teacher, but I can't help but wonder how a single teacher in a similar setting to mine would ensure equitable writing instruction for a cognitively diverse population.

Theory in Practice - Looking Ahead

Interesting how my last TIP seems to circle back to the things I was reflecting on when I wrote my first TIP (all the way back in September 2013, sigh). On my mind and in the success department I have reflections about effective planning. I've also got a lot of the same angst weighing on my heart as I did when assessing myself on my first curve around this grad school track. With each success I experience, my mind assaults me with reminders of shortcomings and doubts about the future. It's saying, "yeah you did that, but it's not enough." "Sure you're excelling in that but look at all these things you are not excelling at." "Yes, you planned, but there are still plans you let fizzle out." "That project was a success but you need to do more of them, faster, and better. Also you need to spend less time on them and more time on EdTPA!"

HUSH, I try to say to these voices when I have the presence of mind to do so. Yet I can't help but remember the "Year Two's" I looked up to last year and how accomplished and professional and empowered and successful they seemed. I compare myself now and find myself wanting. Those women last year seemed clear headed and driven and full of conviction and confidence. I feel murky-headed, confused, without energy and without confidence. I have felt so spread thin in a million directions; I told my friend today that I feel like a spider web with everything in my head being stretched so wide and so delicately thin. In this state, thoughts begin to lose their substance and become fragile and difficult to hold on to. I feel like I'm in a tunneling mineshaft along with everything I am reading, have read, am working on, am responsible for, should be thinking about, etc, and my voice is getting lost and drowned out amongst it all. I suppose this is all a fancy way to say I've been feeling lost in my theory and practice and the elusive praxis I should be honing in on. I feel like I'm in another adolescence, extremely awkward, angsty, and wanting to be like the "grown ups" I perceive to be around me.

At moments like this in my personal life, a reflective practice I sometimes do is to read back over my oldest journal entries and leave comments on sticky notes or in margins. When I did this virtually by re-reading my original TIP, I found some of my thoughts jarring and poignant and so unmistakably familiar to my current state of mind as I search for the words to synthesize my experiences over the past month. One passage that hits home: "I feel like a fraud, and my greatest fear is that my learning shortcomings will result in massive failure as a grad student and as a teacher, and I will be "found out" as a phony and be laughed out of town." Wow, self-fulfilling prophecy much? It's almost as if fresh-faced little me from 2 years ago wrote these words in full knowledge of where future me would be reading them, so close to the finish line yet so out of gas. 

The next part is practically absurd to me now in its earnestness: "I want to protect my students from developing these negative feelings about themselves, I want them to feel as capable and full of potential as I see them. But I know that first I have to come to terms with my own self-actualizing in this department. And self-actualizing can be painful, especially when you've been making do for so many years of adulthood." and with pure conviction I add, "I truly believe the major link that is missing that will make me feel in control and capable is organization. I have to find a way to put myself through a kind of organizer's boot camp, perhaps using resources like pinterest for tools that will assist me in my goal to improve in this area." There's a bully in me who scoffs at reading those last words and says "HA! You?? Get better at organization??? From PINTEREST?! You're dreamin." Again, I know I need to say "Shut up weird Punky Bruester bully of my imagination! I really am doing better!" I'm at a pivotal moment where it's time to seriously figure out how to look at myself from a strength-based model, as I wrote about 2 years ago but didn't have a name for at the time. 

So here are some things I have been completely rocking:

Democratic classroom, class meetings, and taking and using data to support students in these areas. Going back to one of our earlier readings that most resonated with me, I remember Mary Cowhey's thoughts on noticing voices in class meetings:  “It is one thing to have your most privileged, articulate, and entitled children speak up in a dialog… For me, the real test is to have the least-empowered children, the least articulate, take a leading role in that dialog while the more articulate children thoughtfully listen and consider things from their classmates’ perspectives before they comment or question” (Cowhey, 2006, p.91). Okay, so perhaps we still have a lot of growth we can do in the latter part (listening carefully and reflecting before responding and commenting), but my meetings have been seriously intentional about that first part with my language modeling and co-constructed meeting agreements and community problem solving philosophy. Now students themselves will say "Hold on, let _____ speak, his voice hasn't been heard much this meeting." You don't know how my heart explodes when they join together to solve a problem like moving the big platform out of the corner so we can clean under it and hopefully get rid of some ants (can it get more Cowhey than that??). In these instances, I give them whatever tools they request or need and get out of their way with pride. 

In many ways, my democratic work alongside children across subjects (like working on our TICC project) has made me a better science teacher. I apply the idea “literary themes must be understood as turns in an ongoing cultural conversation” (Wilhelm, Douglas, and Fry, 2014, p.32) to science by teaching my students that part of their work as scientists is engaging in an ongoing scientific conversation asking and offering thoughts about questions that human beings have been wandering about for centuries. I also had a significant science curriculum success in my planning and executing of an elaborate lab on physical and chemical changes. I look back at my first lab of the year, which was completely stressful and chaotic with me scrambling for materials at the last second, and see how I've used my reflection process to grow. I've taken what I learned from that terrible lab to make my subsequent labs better and better, and isn't that the same thinking scientists and engineers and problem solvers need to be able to demonstrate? 

Beautiful child scientists engaged in a carefully planned and executed lab. Did they grow more mature, did I plan the activity better, or is it something in between?

My heart and imagination have been truly captured this month by my planning and integrating of the graphic novel March and Cesar Chavez with my social studies curriculum. What started as a mere curiosity on my part, turned into an Action Research question, and from there snowballed into an integrated unit combining TICC questions, reading and discussing skills, and critical thinking and questioning. I've been extremely energized by interacting with people via Social Media who are interested in my work with the graphic novel March, and through discussing with me, help me come to deeper and better understandings of my own work with these themes. I'm combining the values from my curriculum design with the students' voices and interests and intentionally planning a meaningful culminating project that honors multiple learning styles. I'm talking about our "Civil Rights Meet and Greet" on April 16th, where students will be playing the parts of civil rights figures they have researched, reporters interviewing the civil rights leaders, or behind the scenes helpers. This project engages students to think critically and apply high level thinking skills as they all must research and respond to prompts the way their particular person would have. 

Over Spring Break I have also been pondering how we will bring our other discussions about the Rights of Children into the Meet and Greet. It's very exciting and all consuming and I find the work I am doing for these projects is sustaining me creatively and intellectually. I came up with the three options for the actual Meet and Greet because I listened to their opinions and considered their individual strengths and interests. Reader's Theater is a big hit around here, and we have plenty of personalities with a dramatic flair who also crave a challenge. Others are most comfortable and perform best with more structure, hence the "reporter" who can still perform but be more prepared with questions thought of in advance. Then there are our quiet planners, who can help out in meaningful and essential ways on the sidelines without having to 'perform' if that is not his or her thing. Knowing how to put this idea into action and provide the appropriate amount of support to engage and empower each student only comes from past flops that made me wiser, and better application of specific teaching strategies. That's why I know how to use appropriate graphic organizers, provide multiple ways for students to demonstrate understanding and interact with concepts, and provide a balance of structure and freedom for learners at different stages of mastery. 

Super smart critical thinker expressing herself on a paper message board. I used student-generated word clouds based on the themes they found in the books to spark an ongoing conversation between readers (and a great assessment tool for me!)

Katie the 2013 teacher marveled in the depth and importance of the student teacher relationship, and 2015 Katie feels the same way, but now with the theory to back it up. Most recently a praxis has emerged between my philosophies of democracy, agency, and student voice and I noted the following quote in our reading from The Activist Learner; “Relationship building is the heart of democracy, as people strive to be empathetic, listen and dialogue across difference, ethically solve problems, and act with the greatest good in mind” (Wilhelm, Douglas, and Fry, 2014, p.78). Keeping a strengths-based attitude in mind when I look at my own trajectory from then to now, my next step is to remember these growing pains and that writing and reflecting has the power to clear cobwebs and even heal. I need to think of ways to carry my responsive practices learned in Grad School into my career moving forward (like to ISRAEL THIS SUMMER for some serious multi-cultural professional development!!). Latest idea: Start a series of 2 minute Vlogs and invite other super smart teachers I know to do the same, perhaps responding to prompts and thought questions. Anything to keep the power of the dialogue going. 

Mentor Texts and Mini-lessons; a Reader's Response to Carl Anderson's "How's it Goin"

We all need mentors. Many parts of Carl Anderson's chapter on mentor texts in his book, How's it Goin' fit in nicely with my current thinking on literacy instruction in my classroom. I can't agree more with Anderson's criteria for text sets as mentor texts for writers. He states, “First, our collections of mentor texts should reflect the voices and experiences of the children in our classrooms...A collection of mentor texts should also include a variety of genres… Finally, [they] should be crafted in different ways” (Anderson, 2000, p.133). This already jives with the way I select text sets for integrating social studies and to use as read-alouds. Using them as mentors, however, takes it to a new level for me. I love the idea that knowing how to use a mentor text is like having a mentor you can carry around with you always. If you can read as a writer, then every text is your potential mentor, and you can carry the greats with you wherever you go. If we as teachers can model this behavior, all the better. As Anderson puts it, “We hope our students will become the kind of writers who also have such writing mentors. They read their favorite authors’ books and essays and poems with a ‘writer’s eye’ and notice how these authors craft their writing” (Anderson, 2000, p.109).

I enjoy the anecdotes in the book that offer us a chance to eavesdrop on a conference with Anderson breaking down the choices he made and his rationale for them. It pointed me in a new direction to consider how he uses assuming questions as a form of modeling by asking students "Who is your writing mentor?" Anderson says that “Even when I’m certain a student doesn’t have a writing mentor, I may still ask if he does” (Anderson, 2000, p.112). Amazing the power a simple question can have for conveying expectations and raising the bar for student writers. It seems the goal of much of the writing conference is to help students build metacognition about the writing process. It takes a lot of cognitive effort to process the content of a story while simultaneously picking apart the craft and structure that the story is built upon. That's why Anderson says “I try to match students up to texts their class has already read and studied in mini-lessons” (Anderson, 2000, p.122). This is one way Anderson tries to purposefully focus the cognitive load, because as he points out, “It’s unreasonable, after all, to expect students to come to brilliant insights into how an author uses a craft technique a few seconds after we’ve read a text aloud, or right after they’ve read it for the first time” (Anderson, 2000, p.128). I am still wondering what Anderson would do, though, if a student struggles to see the difference between their own writing sample and the mentor sample they are using for inspiration.

The chapter on Mini-Lessons also squared with my thinking and offered plenty of "ah-ha" moments. Often times I theoretically know something but am unsure how to put it into practice. Anderson takes care of that for me by clearly structuring the art of the mini-lesson and providing rationale for each chunk. I find myself nodding "yes yes yes, this makes so much sense" when Anderson explains how “Mini-lessons give us opportunities not only to give students information about different kinds of writing work, but to persuade students to adopt our agendas for them as writers as their own, and equip them to try out what we teach in their independent writing” (Anderson, 2000, p.139).

So many of my growing edges throughout Grad School have been focused on finding structure and intention within my creativity, and I find this chapter to be immensely helpful in that work. I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief when I imagine myself using Anderson's mini-lesson technique in a consistent way that also provides some freedom. When discussing the effective mini-lessons he's observed teachers use, he says “while the content of their mini-lessons changes from day to day, the way that they structure the lessons remains constant. Within this predictable architecture, we noticed that teachers have parts of their min-lessons in which they teach students, encourage students to try what they’ve taught in their writing, and equip them to do so” (Anderson, 2000, p.140).

I appreciate how Anderson doesn't just tell me what I should be doing and then leaving me alone to figure out the details: he actually provides several examples of HOW to accomplish my mini-lesson goals. He points me in some new directions with his suggestions, such as the "Fishbowl" method. Anderson describes the Fishbowl, saying “When we want to give students information about how they can have effective peer conferences (or response groups), we can have students ‘fishbowl’ a conference in front of the rest of the class. As the students confer, we might caption what they do-- that is, give names to the moves they make in their conversation” (Anderson, 2000, p.146). I also think I could make use of the “Say something” method he describes on page 148 for multiple content areas. I also love the intention and purpose that undergrids the sharing phase of mini-lessons. Often in my class I cry silently within when kids want to "share" their writing, and the slowness and time sucking of these moments is almost painful for me to endure. Considering anchoring "share" into the specific strategies of the mini-lesson is a "EUREKA" moment for me that might help me solve this problem in my class. I can really take to heart Anderson's wise words concerning sharing when he reminds us, “The point of the share session is for students to discuss work they did as writers that period, not to read their pieces aloud from beginning to end” (Anderson, 2000, p.152).

While I agree completely that mini-lessons should remain "mini" in order to maximize their effectiveness, some questions are still circling in my mind about the best ways to accomplish this. I felt like he was talking directly to me when he listed the different possible reasons why mini-lessons drag on for longer than they should. I thought "that's SO my class" when he brought up the issue of too much student discussion. As usual, the solution to this lies within the planning phase. Anderson says, “we have to decide in advance in which parts of our mini-lessons we’re going to do the talking, and in which parts the students will-- and then stick to our plan” (Anderson, 2000, p.150). That is SO HARD for my class which includes a cognitively diverse community of students, some of whom struggle to control impulses or need to be constantly verbalizing in order to maintain focus and comprehension. He also cites too many teacher examples as a time-sucker, claiming that “After the second or third example...students have gotten the point we’re making. As we show them more, we lose their attention and they lose writing time. We can give students informaton by showing them one or two carefully chosen examples” (Anderson, 2000, p.151). On the one hand, yes, I think many of my students will be chomping at the bit and ready to try techniques out after one or two examples. But just as many other students are going to require more time and guided practice to process and be equipped to try things out. This is also related to his next factor, which is that we repeat ourselves too much. This may be true for some students, but others might need to hear and see things a few more times before they have processed it. When I saw the suggested time frame for the "Have a Go" phase was 2-4 minutes (p.147) I almost had to laugh out loud. Maybe in some classrooms but never in a million years would this work in mine. This indicates to me that the strategies shared in this book aren't really geared towards an inclusion setting, and it makes me wonder how to appropriately adapt them for classroom communities with cognitive differences.

If I had to take away one major theme linking these passages (and also running more largely throughout the book) it would be the word "intention." This is something I keep coming back to in my own developing practice. Armed with effective planning and a clear purpose, it seems teachers can select mentor texts and design effective mini-lessons with ease. I can't wait to "have a go" at the strategies I've learned with my own young writers!

Theory in Practice - Data Driven

A fascinating and unexpected turn for me these past few weeks has been my sudden love affair with data. I have a student teacher in my classroom once a week (it boggles my mind and slightly frightens me that I would be trusted with a student teacher) and she said something offhand about "I just love data." That really got me thinking about data and all the nifty things it can show you. This was in exact timing of me beginning to take data for my Action Research project. I am attempting to track critical thinking comments about two graphic biographies of civil rights leaders through student book club conversations. As I began to take my data during the initial conversations, I realized right away that the method I had set up for tracking student critical thinking comments was extremely flawed. I realized I was trying to force something qualitative to be quantitative, and that the data I was taking simply wasn't a perfect reflection of what I am observing in my book clubs. Luckily, the goal of the Action Research class is to learn the basics of Action Research, and this experience has taught me the value of not forcing data to be something it's not.

I learned data has a democratic power in our classroom settings as well. I observed a trend in our morning meeting "share" portions with a rise in elaborate toys and a decline in meaningful student commenting. I began to track this almost instinctively one week, noting who is sharing and what, who is commenting and the type of comment and frequency, and obviously, who is declining to insert their voice into the conversations. At the end of the week, I suggested a "verbal share" without toys, and the way the conversation kicked into gear after a few moments made it hard to keep up with my data-tracking sheet. This proved to me what I had suspected, but even more powerfully than that, gave me something to share with the students. They understood what it meant right away when I shared my findings with them, and it led to an insightful conversation about what makes for good shares and comments so that we can practice speaking and listening the way we need to in 4th, 5th, and 6th grade.

So much of our growth has been in the space of democratic class meetings, but choosing to include them in the data and the interpreting of that data really brought home the theme of student ownership of their communities. In The Activist Learner, the authors claim “Learning should open the gateway that enriches every student’s sense of agency; their dynamic mindsets as people, readers, and writers; their sense of estimable personhood; to reflection and the capacity to know what one knows and how one knows it, and where one will go next; to more enlightened and wide-awake living” (Wilhelm, Douglas, and Fry, 2014, p.43). I had never before thought about data being connected with this meta-cognition we are seeking to help students develop within themselves, but having seen it first hand, the  connections are clear. I hope to use data to empower students to ask and answer the questions that matter to understand and then transform their world around them into the place they want to live in.

Theory in Practice: To Lead and to Follow

The biggest takeaway from this month is that maybe I do have what it takes to be a captain, and maybe I'm even a good one. This month I was summoned to show up with everything I have when I got the news my co-teacher was resigning. At first I was in shock, then I was hurt and angry, and finally I was just worn out and ready to move on to the next phase in getting my kids and classroom community ready to make a transition. Many of my highs AND lows this month have been rooted in this transition from one co-teacher to another, and my own role as a guiding post leading my students and parents through this transition with confidence and grace. A poem my teaching community reflected on at the staff meeting just following the news of my co-teacher's resignation spoke directly to me in that moment.

Blessing the Threshold

This blessing
has been waiting for you
for a long time.
While you have been
making your way here
this blessing has been
gathering itself
making ready
biding its time
praying.
This blessing has been
polishing the door
oiling the hinges
sweeping the steps
lighting candles
in the windows.
This blessing has been
setting the table
as it hums a tune
from an old song
it knows,
something about
a spiraling road
and bread
and grace.
All this time
it has kept an eye
on the horizon,
watching,
keeping vigil,
hardly aware of how
it was leaning itself
in your direction.
And now that
you are here
this blessing
can hardly believe
its good fortune
that you have finally arrived,
that it can drop everything
at last
to fling its arms wide
to you, crying
welcome
welcome
welcome.

-Jan L. Richardson

It made me realize that the most important thing I could do in my position is make a choice about how I would respond to the coming "threshold." Would I embrace it with open arms, or meet it with fear and resistance?

Amazingly, my new co-teacher is more wonderful than I could have ever dreamed or hoped. She seems to be just what we all needed and were ready for to take us to the next level as learners and for me as an educator. I have learned so much from her already and am simply amazed with what she has already managed to do with the students. It's taught me to have more faith in what the kids are willing to and able to process and how resilient and smart they really are. On top of all of this, we have a new student this semester. The way my classroom community has risen to the challenge of embracing a new student and a new teacher has left me with tears in my eyes. They really do listen and take in the messages I have been giving them all year long! It's moments like these that make me proud to take a step back and follow their lead. I think am really beginning to master the balance Freire speaks of when he says “The teacher is no longer merely the-one-who-teaches, but one who is himself taught in dialogue with the students, who in turn while being taught also teach. They become jointly responsible for a process in which all grow” (Freire, 1970, p.80).

In this same vein, I have to share how exciting it is to see all of the moving parts that seemed to be ricocheting off of walls and going wild, actually coming together into something cohesive and beginning to gel. Things that failed miserably the first time I tried them find themselves reincarnated into our classroom conversations, but the second time around with a new life. I am actually hearing the kids use words I supplied months ago, and figured fell on deaf ears. It was so clear how wrong I was when the students marched in from recess one afternoon and immediately situated themselves into a round-table community meeting. My wonderfully with-it co-teacher and I hurried to get out of their way as they independently initiated the democratic process I thought no one was paying attention to before. My sweet intelligent kiddos were saying things like "We haven't heard Josh's voice yet," and "guys, don't drown out Marie's words."

Other things are gelling in my teaching practice, too. I have long been wanting to get kids exploring primary sources, and it seems like this moth the systems and experiences I have put in place have proven themselves successful. I particularly enjoyed exploring a ballad from the French and Indian War called "Why, Soldiers, Why." They did some critical reading of the song and practiced comprehension skills like inferencing unknown words and creating mind pictures. I was also able to throw in a lot of great vocabulary! I still can't get the song out of my head, and neither can the kids. Listen here.  I was really impressed with how much they were able to get out of it!

Also, the multiple grad school threads seem to be connecting. I am now seeing where all of the things we have studied intersect, and how to make these last months and projects and questions meet together in one overarching theme. I am beyond extatic to find the themes I focused on in my curriculum design finally emerging. Another song I had the kids explore was School House Rock's "No More Kings" which is a poppy happy little telling of American history from Pilgrims to Revolution, and as you can imagine, has its limitations in representing multiple perspectives. I asked the kids to think about and look for those silenced voices, and some of them took to this like fish to water. Freire explains that critical literacy is "not a teaching method but a way of thinking and a way of being that challenges texts and life as we know it. Critical literacy focuses on issues of power and promotes reflection, transformation, and action. It encourages readers to be active participants in the reading process: to question, to dispute, and to examine power relations" (Freire via Allen and Alexander, 2013, p.7). Later, when we went to the School House Rock live show, Olive emerged from the theatre and said "Katie, there were some missing perspectives in those songs." My heart could explode with pride! I see how to connect our Morning Meeting conversations with brain maps we have made and social studies topics we have discussed with my Action Research and my critical change inquiry questions. My questions are merging with their learning. The authors of The Activist Learner say “We maintain that inquiry-based teaching allows teachers to explicitly encourage and assist students to always search for personal connections and implications of their learning” (Wilhelm, Douglas, and Fry, 2014, p.31). I hope that while pursuing the questions that interest me, I will model for them the way lifelong learners think critically, ask questions, and take action in seeking their answers.

It seems that whether I lead or follow, we end up somewhere new yet not altogether unfamiliar, and I can't wait to see where our journey takes us next.

A Reader's Response to A Critical Inquiry Framework for K-12 Teachers: Lessons and Resources from the U.N. Rights of the Child

I feel extremely energized after reading the first chapter of A Critical Inquiry Framework for K-12 Teachers: Lessons and Resources from the U.N. Rights of the Child (Allen and Alexander, 2013). This book embraces many of the philosophies that have become important for my own practice, including critical literacy, critical inquiry, and democratic principles. Even better, it uses the U.N. Rights of the Child to anchor these big ideas. I really like the stance that "we as critical educators must be role models, showing students that asking critical questions is central to the values of democracy, and critical in examining the universal Rights of the Child" (Allen and Alexander, 2013, p.8).

I felt pretty proud of myself for all of the ideas mentioned that I was already somewhat familiar with from my graduate studies. I thought the first chapter contained a great collection of quotes from theorists like Paolo Freire, and seeing these ideas again was like running into an old friend. I feel like I could use many of these quotes as rationale for my own inquiry projects I'll be doing with kids. I like the one where Freire explains critical literacy, saying that it's "not a teaching method but a way of thinking and a way of being that challenges texts and life as we know it. Critical literacy focuses on issues of power and promotes reflection, transformation, and action. It encourages readers to be active participants in the reading process: to question, to dispute, and to examine power relations" *Freire via Allen and Alexander, 2013, p.7). This quote is just one of many that very neatly square with my thinking and beliefs about teaching and learning. In another section of this chapter, the authors discuss other existing scholarship on critical topics, and I ran into more familiar friends there including Mary Cowhey and her inspiring "Peace Class" (p.11). It's so exciting to see all these pieces from my scholarship over the semesters fitting back together and reinforcing each other and my own ideas.

I was surprised to learn that "All countries have now ratified [the Convention on the Rights of the Child] except for Somalia and the United States" (Allen and Alexander, 2013, p.4). I could not for the life of me imagine why the US wouldn't ratify this document that seems to contain so much sensible good. The editors take a moment to honor this perspective and explain the thinking behind some of the groups opposed to the Rights of the Child. I'm glad they did this because they not only back up their claim to investigate multiple perspectives, but it also helps me to be aware of potential reactions parents might have to me introducing these concepts to their students. It will be important to be sensitive to all the possible viewpoints these critical discussions could bring about as I proceed.

I also have the question of critical stance still circling in my mind. I have thought before about how being TOO wishy-washy in our meetings and conversations might not be the best model for students, which Allen and Alexander seem to back up when they say "teachers must demonstrate both humility and self-confidence. As they take risks, they acknowledge fear and show courage, because 'there may be fear without courage...[but] there may never be courage without fear'[Freire p.41]" (Allen and Alexander, 2013, p.5). I want to make sure my students feel confident and secure that the teachers know what they're doing and will take care of them and guide them, while also feeling empowered to participate in directing the community. It is a delicate balance to strike, and I will take extra notice of it in the weeks and months to come.

I really enjoyed reading the example of how one teacher (Rebeccah Williams Well) got started with the U.N. Rights of the Child in her 2nd grade classroom because it gave me some practical steps to follow and pointed me in some new directions I hadn't thought of before. I like the idea of starting with an anchor chart of what the students think the rights of the child should be and think my students, despite being older than Well's 2nd graders, could get a great conversation started from this method and also be supported with the visual reminder of our discussion. I'm also excited to take the Human Rights temperature survey mentioned (p.12). This is a genius way to get kids thinking about these questions in the context of their own lives and experiences which I would not have thought to do on my own.

I'm so excited to get started with my students and to see where they take us on our critical inquiry journey! Next up, I will be reading the chapter "It's Not Easy Being Flat: A 3rd-Grade Study of the Rights of Students with Disabilities" because it's relevant to some of our recent conversations and pretty close to appropriate for my students.