Month: December 2020

2020: 24 Hours To Go

“I just don’t want this year to end….”

No one is gonna go broke writing farewell pieces to 2020.

When the ball drops in Times Square (closed to the public, obvi) we’ll all be more anxious than usual to usher in a new year. I’m gonna miss the memes tho.

But it’s still worthwhile to look back on the year that is past, and ahead to 2021.

I learned a few things in 2020:

  • When someone shows you who they are, believe them.
  • Sometimes it helps to figure out where you belong, first, and then go from there.
  • Your home scale is probably off by 15 pounds.
  • Not in your favor.
  • Wishing the scale reading was correct doesn’t make it so.
  • “Quaran-twenty” is more elegant and streamlined than “Quarantine fifteen”.
  • Running is better with friends.
  • But running by yourself is better than not moving at all.
  • Don’t mess with Region kids.
  • Have a go bag. Even if it is metaphorical.
  • Dogs make everything better. Even when they are someone else’s dog.
  • If you put out food for the neighborhood cats, they’ll keep coming around.
  • And your wife will probably give them clever names.
  • You’re probably not as bad at what you do as people think.
  • You’re probably not as good at what you do as people think.
  • It’s still pretty cool when people tell you you’re good at what you do.
  • 15 minutes of sun in the morning can change your whole mood.
  • When everybody in the family is eating 3 meals a day at home the check-out staff at your neighborhood market will get to know you on a first-name basis.
  • It’s hard to express to a 16-year-old how awesome it was to live through the Bulls dynasty in real-time.
  • How many Friends episodes in a row is too many? So far it’s not six.
  • How many times seeing a single Friends episode is too many? Six is a pretty good guess.
  • You can most definitely physically distance on the beach. Just pick the right beach.
  • There’s gonna be a day next month when you are sure winter is just gonna skip us altogether this year.
  • There’s gonna be a day next month that’s gonna make you want to sell your house and move to the desert, like, right now.
  • Whatever the question is, your PLN probably has an answer.
  • Three or four edtech tools that your kids can get used to and let you get an idea of their learning are better than an endless parade of flavor of the month.
  • High school kids can do just about anything.
  • For every kid who missed their friends during the shutdown so much they pedaled to the school parking lot and made Tik Toks together, there’s another kid who was like,”I don’t have to see 100 people I hate every day? And I get to sleep in and do my school stuff whenever I want? Excellent. Remote school is awesome.”
  • Fresh guac and sunshine and a cold drink and a book and a playlist make for a perfect afternoon.
  • Watermelon & pineapple & Tajín will get you where you need to go too.
  • The wasps will leave you alone if you leave them alone.
  • It is possible to make mac and cheese in the smoker.
  • It is possible to win two wrestling matches with a dislocated kneecap.
  • It’s just a job. You can get another one.
  • You most definitely can go home again.
  • You’re never more open than when you first catch the ball.
  • If there is going to be an elementary school teacher parade in your neighborhood, with a multitude of joyful kid noises and much honking of horns, it’ll happen when you are on a Zoom call for work.
  • You’ll be amazed at which of your students are turning in work for your e-learning assignments at 4 am. It’s not the ones you’d think.
  • Finding out you and your kids share a taste in pizza places is sublimely cool.
  • It is definitely possible to build relationships during online teaching.
  • Even if you are “that techie teacher”, there’s no shame in keeping your attendance and daily work points on a paper copy of your roster.
  • Someone knows how to keep eyeglasses from fogging up while wearing a face covering. Just not me.
  • The real ones recognize you even when you are wearing a mask.
  • Watching boxing matches that take place in a studio with no fans in attendance is really hard to get used to.
  • You’ll be irrationally happy when your phone tells you that you cut your screen time last week.
  • Shop local. Eat local. Drink local. Tip the kitchen staff, even if you got take-out.
  • Experts are wrong sometimes.
  • Fools are right sometimes.
  • That person over there? They are probably trying their very best. Cut them a break.

Following Allyson Apsey‘s lead, I made a New Year’s playlist again (prior years here: 2018 2019 2020). I’ll probably make some resolutions as well. I’ll try to keep them, too. We had a quick budget committee meeting in my house yesterday that led to some possibilities.

But back to the playlist. I open a Google Doc in late winter/early spring and drop songs in as the year goes on. It’s always a mix of new stuff and older tunes. My son picked the opener. As for the rest, this year’s selections trended darker, with hints of optimism mixed in. Which makes it perfect for 2020.

And, I hope, for 2021.

Happy New Year. C’mon, 2021, show me something.

One-Man Book Club: Once A Warrior

A little over two years ago we sat in a fieldhouse at Fort Leonard Wood, MO for my oldest son’s OSUT graduation. We were (and are) extraordinarily and justifiably proud of the work he had put in to reach that point. But I also recall thinking at the time that if we were sitting in those seats 10 years before we would have been wrestling with different emotions as parents.

We’ve got an all-volunteer army and every man and woman who crossed that stage signed willingly on the dotted line.

But every parent knew the dangers of enlisting during wartime. I would have been very conflicted if I was sitting there knowing he was leaving out for the Middle East in a matter of days. Proud, but scared.

My oldest wanted that chance; it’s what he signed up for. It didn’t work out that way though. His career took a different path. He never deployed and is in the middle of his five-year hitch as an MP. He’s mostly cool with it: he’s come to realize that he serves at the pleasure of Uncle Sam. For Christmas I sent him a book that I thought might be right in his wheelhouse on multiple levels.

Once A Warrior: How One Veteran Found A New Mission Closer To Home (Goodreads page)

The author, Jake Wood, was a former Big Ten football player and Marine sniper who served in Iraq and Afghanistan. Given the opportunity to leave the Corps on his own terms, he took it. But: What do you do next?

“I was twenty-seven years old and, no longer a Marine, totally unsure what to do with my life. Outwardly I projected confidence that after business school I would launch into a successful career, but inwardly I doubted I would ever find what Indra had: a job that felt like it was what I was put on this earth to do”

He applied to grad school, thought about an MBA, then a TV news report from Haiti the morning after a magnitude 7.0 earthquake changed everything.

Wood felt compelled to help. He organized a small band of fellow veterans and was on the ground in Port-au-Prince in matter of days. The group of Marines, doctors, and Jesuits used their specialized skills to directly aid victims of the earthquake. While he was there, word of the group spread online and a supporter arranged for the organization to be incorporated as a 501 (c) 3 nonprofit. The former Marine (and yes, I know there’s no such thing…) was now a president and CEO. And Team Rubicon was born.

The origin story is more than just a “hero Marine” back from the wars running towards a fight, or a do-gooder possessed of an urge to help after seeing devestation on his TV screen from the comfort of his LA home.

He and his brothers and sisters in arms had wrestled with the purpose of the war they fought, agonized over the deaths of fellow warriors and yes, enemy targets. And many of his colleagues who had committed their lives to each other halfway around the world found the transition back to civilian life unbearable. As he points out in the preface:

“Since 2012, more service members have died by suicide than in combat.”

Wood eventually saw that this project could be a lifeline for veterans returning from war, trying to find their own purpose in life in a society that does not always value what made them warriors.

“What’s more, civilian life confounds and frustrates you. Were people always so self-involved? Instead of protecting life and liberty, you’re supposed to muster enthusiasm for socializing with your coworkers with an eye toward that promotion. But this new set of norms feels like a step in the wrong direction. It’s hard to form bonds with people who are more interested in greasing the wheels of their career than forming a real brotherhood. You knew your fellow soldiers would die for you; you’re fairly sure these people would plant their Italian loafer on your back as they stepped over you onto the ladder’s next rung.”

As I told my son in the note I sent him along with the book: Sometime in the next 3 years or 10 years or 18 years you’ll spend some time trying to figure out what to do next. Maybe the most important thing to do first is to figure out who you are.

Team Rubicon suffered through growing pains, struggled to find funding, and though it was serving its purpose as a support outlet for veterans and an organization that provided much-needed aid at disaster sites around the world, its future was in doubt.

Then the organization exploded into the national consciousness when it mobilized during Superstorm Sandy in 2013. That disaster, and the devestation wrought by Hurricane Harvey in 2017, brought an influx of funding, and a supply of veterans and first responders offering to help.

After I finished the book, I wondered how I’d never heard of Team Rubicon. It’s been featured on a Super Bowl commercial, in spots during the World Series, honored at the White House, Wood even was honored at the ESPYs.

(Team Rubicon is far from the only organization doing such work , just the best known. Today I learned of an organization that supports disabled veterans and performs community service, the Michigan Warriors.)

There’s obviously so much work to be done.

The book is not an easy read. The battle scenes and the stories of the aftermath of natural disasters are brutal. Suicide is a theme throughout. Wood is not gratuitous in his descriptions but he is pretty up-front about being persistently haunted by some of the things he’s seen. Once A Warrior is inspirational, but it is also raw and real.

We’re coming up quick on “New Year – New Me” time. We’re all (well, OK, most of us anyway) still trying to figure out what we want to be when we grow up. And maybe more importantly, where our contribution to the world belongs.

There’s an economic theory out there (I forget the technical name) that goes something like: When we fail to allow people to fully utilize their skills, that works to the detriment of all society (for instance, a woman with a medical degree who can only find work as a receptionist), not only to the detriment of the individual.

I would bet the opposite is true as well: Pursuing your gifts benefits all of society, but also is important to the well-being of you as an individual.

It’s pretty clear to me the two go hand-in-hand. For teachers and students too.

I’ll give Wood the final word:

“The notions of service, sacrifice, and citizenship can sound antiquated in today’s me-me-me America. But I believe that Americans are yearning for a cause worthy of our history and values, yearning for an inspiration to rise and be better. We can – and must – reframe what it means to be an American and a patriot. And in doing so convince a new generation that with citizenship comes a shared responsibility to serve a common cause: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Not just for ourselves, but for others.”

My Coaching Tree Is A Shrub

Got so busy writing about one really cool thing that happened this year that I totally blew past the fact that the writing prompt was for three good things.

So here’s another one.

You’ve heard of the concept of a “coaching tree“: As Wikipedia puts it: “The most common way to make the distinction is if a coach worked as an assistant on a particular head coach’s staff for at least a season then that coach can be counted as being a branch on the head coach’s coaching tree.”

Source

So it is in teaching.

I’ve had a grand total of one student teacher in my career. She’s awesome (not that that has anything to do with my mentorship. She’d have been awesome at teaching regardless). Later in our careers we taught together for a couple of years, and my youngest was an algebra student of hers for a semester.

But I have hosted a pretty wide range of pre-service teachers for observations. They are a little harder to keep track of. With a couple of exceptions I’m not sure for a fact they even went into teaching.

It’s been pretty well documented that Indiana is seeing a decrease in the number of students pursuing education as a major during the last decade. I’m guessing that’s true in other states as well.

It’s still a good gig. It’s just… different than it used to be. For a lot of reasons. Last spring Indiana’s governor commissioned a group to study ways to increase teacher pay in the state. They didn’t need a commission to discover this:

And there’s not an extra $600 million a year sitting there in the state budget, meaning it’ll be a jigsaw puzzle of stop-gap measures and cuts to eke out a raise. So I’ve heard people say they would discourage kids from entering the profession. And maybe there’s something to that.

But I got an email late in May from a student in one of my Algebra II classes. A super-serious student, a dedicated athlete (those swimmers and 4:30 am practices… *shudder*), and one who saw right through the “game of school” that the grade-grubbers in the building play.

She responded to the #MTBoS way of teaching and learning math.

She told me she wanted to be a math teacher as a career.

In one of the last emails I wrote as a teacher at that school, I replied that she would be oustanding as a teacher and I thought she definitely should strongly consider it as a career. For exactly the reasons I’ve outlined here.

She’s got three semesters of high school left and four years or more of college and a lot of things can change.

But I hope one of these days (maybe before I retire) I’ll find out she’s teaching math around here someplace.

It’s pretty well known in my circle that I have the opposite of a green thumb. I can’t keep a single green thing alive.

But I’ll still keep watering the seeds.

This is today’s entry to #MTBoSYuleBlog, where some brilliant teachers are writing and reflecting their way through Winter Break. Feel free to check out the tag.

I Coulda Been Better

I’m reading Jake Wood’s memoir “Once A Warrior” about the founding and growth of Team Rubicon, a non-profit that mobilizes military veterans to aid in clean-up & repair after natural disasters.

I sent it to my Army MP son as a Christmas present, and it’s going to be the next entry in the One-Man Book Club on here.

The leaders and volunteers apply their training in logistics, planning, medicine, and yes, security, to help communities dig out.

On the very first mission,the 2010 Haiti earthquake, before Team Rubicon was anything more than 8 guys doing what they do best, Wood relates the “after-action review” following the day’s work in Port-au-Prince. Sitting in a circle at their base with doctors and Marines and Jesuits, the group dug deep into the successes and failures of the day. Being cold-blooded about their mistakes so they could be better tomorrow.

Then Brother Jim turned the page:

“I want to ask everyone to take a moment and reflect on what happened today. We just spent ten hours in perhaps the worst situation imaginable, and the images you saw today will likely be seared into your memory for the rest of your lives. It’s important for us to talk about that. Some of you will want to share bad memories, and some of you good ones. But I’d ask that you share them.”

Teachers are definitely like that. We ruthlessly pick apart our lessons and classes at the end of the day. What worked? What bombed?

And in 2020, in Pandemic Tecahing, we are for sure looking to the human dimension of the day as well. Did my kids get what they needed from me today to thrive?

I think I nailed the relationship part (“Grace Before Grades”) during the first four months of school. And I designed all my lessons to get some type of written input from my students, whether through Quizizz or Desmos activity, a hyperdoc, a Which One Doesn’t Belong or Would You Rather warmup, a quick Brain Dump on a Google Docs so I can gauge prior knowledge before we dive into a topic, or a 3-2-1 summary at the end of class.

But my colleagues are way better than me at getting their students involved in verbal participation. My instructional coaches are outstanding at sharing ideas from the staff with the staff, and I hear my department colleagues share their successes and failures each week at our video meeting.

I don’t really care if I’m better or worse than them. I just want to be better, period.

In in-person school, a disinterested student has a tendency to be disruptive. On a Google Meet call, a distinterested student just disappears. And I don’t really have a chance to get them back.

I have no idea when we’ll be back in person. Some of the south suburban districts near mine have already committed to remote learning through the third quarter. My district won’t make a decision until early January at the soonest.

And I’m out of the predictions game when it comes to Pandemic School.

I just know that getting my kids involved in class daily is a place where I can get better.

This has been my contribution today to #MTBoSYuleBlog. I’m committing to reflecting and learning with my teacher friends online this Winter Break. Come join us?

One Good Thing: 2020 Edition

I had a chance to go home this year. And I took it. The interview took about 13 seconds. And it took maybe half that to say “yes”.

And I got assigned to the same classroom where it all started (at least the Region portion of it) lo those many years ago.

And who knows, maybe I might even get to teach in that classroom sometime in 2021. Before my school closes for good.

As I said to one of my sons friends after Mass the other day, “My kids seem really cool. I hope I get to meet them soon.”

I know we share a taste in pizza, for sure:

The teacher meetings before the start of school were like a homecoming. I felt like I was listening in on my own eulogy, except I had the good fortune to be alive to hear it.

I told one of my long-time teacher colleagues “sometimes you just have to figure out where you belong first, then go from there.”

Sometimes in the winter I leave school late on purpose just to catch the sunset over the football field. Feeds my soul.

So here’s to those glorious sunsets, and colleagues who work hard and play hard, and the Region mentality, and the kids and families I love.

Also: my youngest suggested I take Mase as my walkup music for the year. So I made it the leadoff for my #teacherlife2020 playlist.

Once a Gladiator, always a Gladiator.

This is the latest in my little contribution to the #MTBoSYuleBlog challenge. Go check out the tag for thoughts from a brilliant group of teachers.

Exhale

So, that was an adventure, huh?

I’ll be pretty honest. Job losses aside, 2020 could have been worse. Way worse. None of us in our house or in our extended family got sick. My youngest saw both his football season and his wrestling season put on pause due to contact tracing, but the fact they were able to participate at all was kind of incredible.

And to tell the truth, the move to remote learning was not horrible. Not ideal, but I had been connected with some brilliant people and using digital learning tools before the shutdown, and benefitted from some really sharp instructional coaches who anticipate needs and provide usable supports and guidance.

My district moved early to a committment to remote teaching for the entire first semester of the school year, meaning I was spared the stress of trying to create lessons and activities that worked for dual-track teaching. The district in the city where I live came close to a teacher revolt early in the school year, as staff buckled under the pressure of trying to do two very different jobs at the same time, serving in-person and remote learners simultaneously. It didn’t help that a teenage hacker managed to create repeated disrutptions to online learning the first couple months of the year.

Source

So all told, I got off easy. I don’t envy my former colleagues at all.

We adopted a block schedule, so I had 80 minutes with each class twice a week and 40 on Friday. That eased the pressure on planning and grading. And it became clear once I saw the schedule that we would be able to build in multiple tasks for students each class period, even building in some break time (thanks to a tip from the great Ed Campos Jr.).

By the way, I love this advice to students:

And I think that’s a big part of why and how I managed to make it to Winter Break with my sanity intact. Yes, I have confidence in my skills. Yes, I was ready to make the shift (in a weekend! And then once school started back up in the fall, for the duration). But that came because I had a great support group around me, both IRL (family and administration) and online. They all work hard, and play hard. Even the ones from outside the Region would fit right in here.

Some of my online PLN are going to be blogging their way through Winter Break, reflecting and planning and sharing. In other words, doing what they do best. I’d invite you to read along. Let’s learn together the next couple of weeks on the #MTBosYuleBlog tag.

I’ll get to that list of prompts eventually. Today, I just want to be.

My district has built in an SEL curriculum during Advisory every day. Twice a week we focus on mindfulness. The activity starts with breathing. Inhale for a count of 4, then exhale for 8.

Yes. Exhale. And I’m going to let these next two weeks wash over me.