Oh... they're real people?

With the passage of the current spending bills from the Minnesota legislature, it's far too easy to reduce education issues and concerns down to nameless "students" being taught by "teachers." Doing so is convenient and intoxicating, but often de-humanizes the process so badly that we forget that there are real people encapsulated in those common nouns.

That said, I encourage you to go and read some recent commentary from actual students offering some keen insights about technology in the Minneapolis schools. While their ideas and insights are excellent, what I really think is paramount is hearing the voices of students in an authentic manner. Somehow, these voices don't sound troubled or dysfunctional or failing, do they?

Funny things happen when we stop debating and start listening.

An Open Letter to my Former Colleagues and Students

Dear Friends,

So I got to spend the entirety of my morning with you yesterday. I was there for a spring soccer meeting, but really I just used that as an excuse to come visit. Since “alma mater” means “soul mother,” I think it was really my soul that needed the visit. And the visit worked in spades.

I’ve walked into that building thousands of times, but my heart was racing yesterday. Excitement and nerves co-mingled as my feet trod upon familiar paths. Stepping on the first step to the “my floor,” I knew it was four steps if I went two at a time. All of my senses were home again.

And then there you were. Students, teachers. Loads of new faces who had no idea who I was. (A certain brand of sorrow exists in that.) Of course there is the awkwardness at first, like bumping into an ex- girlfriend. Small talk. But soon rhythms as old as the tide settled in. And I was no longer pushed or pulled. I just was.

And then I left. Just a four hour vacation for my spirit. Admittedly, I left with no papers to grade, no faculty meetings to attend. I didn’t have to counsel one student through the death of dog while trying to plan my next lesson. No such weights burdened my buoyed self. I’m just smart enough to realize all of this.

But when I got in my car, I cried the same way I did when I left last spring. I had to call my wife. “When I left, I need to leave, right? I was ready, wasn’t I? It was time, wasn’t it?” She assured me that I had indeed been drawn to my next adventure. I knew that. But being around you was joy beyond joy.

Ultimately, I hope that’s what you’re able to see in your days together. Underneath the stress, tension, frustration, and daily challenges of teaching and learning, you’re being fed and are feeding each other in ways that are ineffable. If you don’t know that, if you don’t feel that in your core, then you’ll have to take my word for it. There is a privilege to your life that you might miss, but it’s there. And I thank you for letting me share in that privilege. Even briefly.

Yours,
Nathan

See you next year?

Here's what I know: look at the teachers in your building who have been in the profession fewer than five years and you're looking at people who have a 50% chance of being back in the classroom next fall. The other 50% (by national standards) won't be.

I met with a group of teachers yesterday, two of whom reported that they didn't feel connected to the staff for their entire first year. A whole year! I also know that the reasons teachers cite for leaving almost always center around issues of collegiality and professional relationships.

So there you have it. As an educator and colleague, you now have about three weeks left to reach out to a new teachers and offer the sustenance they need as they ponder their own futures in your school. What have you intentionally done to make sure they're by your side when the first bell rings next school year?

Tell me your stories.

UGH #2:

Less vs. fewer
We use "less" when what we're comparing cannot be counted and "fewer" when it can. Another way of saying it is this: Trust your ear: if you'd use "much," use "less"; if you'd use "many," use "fewer."

Examples:
I have FEWER dollars than you, which means I have LESS wealth.

I have FEWER commercials on my radio station which means I cause LESS stress.

You have FEWER fears than me which means I have LESS courage.

Let's do lunch

I’ve posted only a handful of times, and yet I’ve brought up lunch twice. I think this hearkens to my love of my two favorite things: food and conversation. I love eating. I love talking. And yes, I’ll talk with food in my mouth.

But today I’m going to scratch a little deeper on the importance of meals while working. I’ve realized that one of the greatest parts of teaching was lunch with my colleagues. It’s near the top of what I miss. [note: this says nothing of the people with whom I presently eat lunch – very wonderful lunches and conversations I assure you.]

But what I miss is the tremendous variety and passion we brought from our respective areas of expertise and interest. On any given day around the table in our staff lounge we might talk literature, anthropology, politics, history, science, current affairs, NCAA basketball picks, or any myriad of topics. The conversations were loud, well-informed, bawdy, and generally delicious. I think we would be hard pressed to match the quality of debate and insight in any other setting.

I led of focus group of teachers a week ago and one teacher said he and the rest of the math department have eaten lunch everyday together for the past 10 years. He cited this as one of the primary reasons he has been able to sustain himself in his career.

Another teacher in the same group said that she never eats with her colleagues and that for the most part they don’t share any brand of relationship. You could almost sense her longing to share in the same type of collegiality shared by the math department.

So there you have it. Posting #2 about lunch. Perhaps it’s not as random or unimportant as we might think. If you don’t already eat lunch with your colleagues, give it a shot. It might be the very thing you’re looking for. If you already do, turn the volume up to 11 and enjoy.

Heavy Stuff for a Friday

I read today about a chapter from former U.S. Education Secretary Rod Paige's new book. In it, he tackles head on the notion that teachers' unions, especially the NEA are actually hindering forces when it comes to improving education, and ironically, the lives and careers of teachers. Granted this is the same man who called the NEA a "terrorist organization."

Nonetheless, I actually appreciate his comments, even if I don't agree with them. Frankly, I don't think we have enough transparency about the most uncomfortable issues facing education. Some of the conversations we're going to need to have about the transformation of public education are going to have to be brutal, painful, and very public. Polite conversations about the status quo or overly-politicized speeches about "failing schools" aren't going to cause the sea change that is going to need to happen.

But if we as educators are willing to throw everything on the table and have those uncomfortable conversations, how quickly will agendas shift? The entirety of debate about education in our country cannot happen until the gloves come off. I listen with a close ear to the new batch of candidates for president frame their conversations about education issues. I assume you do too. I'll look forward to tracking what the conversation actually becomes. I for one hope it's a drag out, knock down, but utterly productive one.

How about some Short-Term Thinking?

I met with the president of a local teachers’ union on Friday for a cup of coffee and a truly excellent conversation about education writ large, the state of teaching, and the future of the profession. It was a wide-ranging and provocative conversation.

In the course of our conversation, though, I was reminded of something that’s been gnawing at me for weeks. She was telling me about a local middle school teacher who was bummed out because her school only had 20 minute lunches. Add to that standing in line for lunch, walking to the lunchroom, or stopping to use the bathroom, and all of a sudden you’re left with a 10 minute lunch. This story is repeated in schools all over, but this particular story struck a chord with me.

Lately I’ve been increasingly convinced that now more than ever, we need to de-mystify the state of teaching and teachers. While I’m certain teachers are indeed worried about achievement gaps and long-term strategic goals for a district, I have a feeling what matters even more are the daily realities of working in a school. We study “burnout” and “attrition” like they’re some sort of mystery vexing education. Perhaps we don’t need national think tanks and teacher studies to solve some of the problems facing teachers. Maybe we need humane, basic treatment of teachers everyday. How about starting with a reasonable lunch?

This isn’t rocket science, but it’s also not a particularly popular notion either. In an age of so much teeth gnashing, it almost seems counter-intuitive to imagine that such simple transformations as a lengthened lunch hour or good lighting or a staff lounge could effect meaningful change. Barring Long-Term Strategic Planning, how about we institute Short-Term Daily Thoughtfulness and see what happens?

So what did you do?

As promised, I said I'd log what it is I got off my mind this week. While not too grandiose, I did nibble at the edges of some stuff that's been bugging. At the most basic level, I cleaned my desk. This, however, was no minor feat, and also caused me to unearth multiple scraps of paper reminding of other things I hadn't gotten done yet. Yikes. Nonetheless, it was hanging over my head, and it isn't anymore.

On a slightly grander scale, I also had a series of conversations with people at work about what my future might look like. I'm utterly phobic of stagnation right now. One of the reasons I left teaching was to have grand adventures and find out things about myself that I didn't already know. And I'll darned if I re-settle into new ruts. I need to keep freaking myself out.

And if you feel like you didn't get enough done to help yourself or the world out this week, you're probably right considering that this teacher did.

Lastly, tonight is Prom at the school where I taught. For the past 10 years my wife and I chaperoned Prom. I won't lie. I'm utterly bummed that we won't be there. "Date night" can't compare with "take your wife to Prom night."

Have a great weekend.

Over the Hump

A beautiful Wednesday afternoon lies ahead. The trees are budding. The air is warm. It's just the kind of day that students love to sit in their desks and learn! How I love Spring!

Here's my two-day challenge for us all:

PICK ONE THING THAT'S BEEN HANGING OVER YOUR HEAD AND GET RID OF IT.

That's it. We have two days to get this done before the weekend. Colleague bugging you? Talk it over. Student worrying you? Talk it over. Papers piling up? Work your way through them. Missing the sun? Grade outside.

Please POST your successes for others to read. My Friday post will explain what it is I tackled personally. I'll practice what I preach.