“Light” seems like one of those words that is difficult to define without using the word itself. But Webster’s first definition is beautiful in its simplicity. And compelling to me, especially at this time of year.
That doesn’t mean we don’t all long for light at this time of year. Across civilizations, through the centuries, regardless of faith or lack thereof, late December brings a rage against the darkness and quest for light.
I’ve always said that Christmas Break comes at precisely the right time for a teacher. Everything around us, the whole world, says “Bundle up. Gather your people close. Take stock. Tell stories. Look back. And: Look ahead”.
So, if you are planning for second semester today, awesome. If that’s on the agenda for the weekend, cool. I’ve got my list sitting on my desk at school that I’m going to tackle in parts over the next few days.
And when I go in, I’ll probably have to take down the string of lights that has outlined my whiteboard for the last month.
Although, a warning. When you wake up on January 6, it’s going to be darker than you remember.
The sunrise lags the solstice by a couple of weeks, plus, let’s be honest, sleeping in is maybe the greatest perk of Christmas Break for a teacher. We’re gonna pay for that in a week or so. It’s gonna be pitch black when you wake up, and still dark-ish when you leave for school. On the first day back, when there is the slightest glimmer that we’ve turned a corner, when the buzz of seeing friends for the first time in a couple of weeks has burned off, we might have to make our own light.
My geometry students feel a little like they are stumbling through the darkness of a new kind of math. They might feel like they are crashing. They’re gonna need something to “make vision possible“. Or at least someone to thank them for flying Air Penguin.
My last full day of summer broke humid, rainy, and with a to-do list as long as my arm.
Our ongoing construction work kept us out of the building all summer, but here in modern-day times, let’s face it, wouldn’t you rather do curriculum mapping and lesson planning from the outdoor office? Plus, that gave our IT guys time to upgrade the furniture and electronics in BL122:
Fortunately I’ve been doing my prep in bits and pieces the last few weeks, so it’s mostly just (literal) housekeeping stuff, and pushing the ball a few more yards down the field in regards to matching activities to my Algebra Lab (freshman support) class.
Between #EduProtocols book & #MTBoS suggestions, got Week One for Algebra Lab planned out (Frayer a Friend/Student-Made Iron Chef-ish Parent Night Slide Deck/100 Task/Mullet Ratio). Now running down the curriculum for the year & matching up activities w/skills. Thanks, my PLN. 🤘 pic.twitter.com/he2OwpDui6
Looking back on my Day One plans from last year, the goal is the same, just with the activities stretched out over a week. Gonna build the culture, meet some people, and (oh yeah) sneak a little math in there too.
We’re in our second year of a 1:1 environment in my building. And for the first time in a while I’m teaching freshmen. I want to establish some classroom norms right from the jump: collaboration and discovery.
The first half of EduProtocol is devoted to what the authors, Marlena Hebern and Jon Corippo, call Smart Start activities. They are designed to establish culture and get students hands-on with the tools they will be using throughout the school year. Honestly, it is The First Days of School for the 21st century.
If I do this right, I’ll have students talking about math before they do any actual math. Wish me luck.
The Algebra Lab course is designed to be hands-on, activity-based, a support for our struggling freshmen. But you know what? My juniors can use the same support. They are going to get the same opportunities as the 9th graders the first week in my class.
The big thing here is, I don’t want to give lip service to collaboration and the activities we do in a 1:1 environment and then be (as Corippo calls it) a worksheet machine.
Worse, I don’t want to drop some of this stuff on them three weeks into the year, and expect them to be experts at navigating online (or offline, for that matter) experiences without guidance and practice. I found last year that taking a few minutes to walk thru finding buttons and functions on Desmos or any of the GSuite tools was a wise investment of class time. And the whole point of EduProtocols is that the activities are just a shell that can hold any content for any grade level. They are designed to be repeated. So let’s start now, huh?
This plan for week one should get them collaborating and working with the tools we’ll use all year. Most of our teachers are relative newbies to a 1:1 environment. We’ve got a year under our belt, and I imagine we’ll be learning throughout this year, trading tips with each other and getting better.
So here I am: about to start Year 16, and still learning. It’s a good place to be. And as ugly and frustrating as Twitter can be many days, I’m thankful for my online PLN that has pointed me towards tools and resources I can use to craft learning experiences for my students. I’m working on that (imaginary) Classroom Chef certification, still. Or at least trying to figure out how to put together a decent platter of nachos.
It’s a little odd… I don’t have the usual melancholy end of summer feel right now. It’s a little more like New Year’s Eve. Planning a meal, reflecting on the year gone by, and anticipating what is to come. A little nervous, as always, but: it’s a good nervous.
So, to my teacher friends: Happy New Year!
Three years ago I followed through on a commitment to begin blogging as a way to reflect on my practice. I’m not really even sure that blogs are a thing anymore, but I’ve got a handful that I read on the regular (Blogroll is over there to the right).
My online PLN is blogging their way thru August in the #MTBoS Blaugust2018 challenge. Check out the complete list here. While you are there, sign up to join in the fun. I’m waiting to read, learn, and grow with my Teacher Twitter people.
There’s pretty much two kinds of people in this world:
Bravado vs. sadness. Learning opportunities, or more evidence that the world is unfair. You pick.
This week we celebrated 25 years of marriage. I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything on the planet. But, would I change some things if I could?
Honestly, I’ve messed up plenty of times. And learned something from the pain every time. I’d rather not hurt. Or have the people I love hurt. But I’m thankful for the chance to learn, and grow as a person, and grow closer to my loved ones. So: “My Way”? Or “A Lot Of Things Different”?
We’re at the time of year when buyers remorse is setting in for some of my Algebra II students. They are recognizing that they’ve blown off the last math course they need to graduate, and (170 days in) it’s too late to fix.
The options are summer school, credit recovery, or alternative school.
It’s not fun. When everyone is counting days to summer vacation and you are looking ahead to a 6:30 wakeup call and a bus ride across town and a teacher going on and on and on and on about math.
And it’s not a fair trade. 180 hours of social time, versus doing the work that needs to get done to move the ball forward, and get a step closer to walking across a stage with a diploma in hand. I think, given the chance, they’d have made some different choices.
I can tell they are feeling pain, because their frustration is directed at me these days. What I know after doing this for a while: 17-year-olds are great at “IDGNF” bravado, but they suck at hiding true feelings.
Which all has me thinking: What “Teacher Habits” do I have that I would change? I make a list for myself at the end of every school year, as I’m making copies and filing grade printouts and filling up my recycling bin: what worked and what didn’t? What could I do different next year? After 15 years there are some areas that I’m pretty set in my ways. But the greatest benefit of being a connected teacher is: there’s always someone with a different way (and maybe, a better way) out there. Is this the year to flip the script?
I’ve got a change coming next year. I have a straight schedule of math. No PLTW. Which is a little odd, since my district’s efforts to re-launch PLTW is pretty much how I ended up here, but hey, Teaching Motto since Day One is: “Roll With It”. They tell me what to teach, and who to teach, and where, and I take care of the rest.
Two of my sections will be an Algebra Lab for incoming freshmen who hate math and hate school and probably will hate me. (I know, they haven’t met me, but give them time). My department chair approached me with the proposal: a supplemental class to shore up their Algebra I class. No homework. All project-based. DOK 3. Grade is based on in-class participation.
She knows me so well. It took about two seconds to say yes.
I’ve been training for this my whole life. And I know where to turn for ideas:
Back a million years ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and I still talked about sports for a living, the New England Patriots parted ways with their coach, Bill Parcells, after the team made a Super Bowl appearance. He was not super-pleased. In fact, he had a parting shot:
“If they want you to cook the dinner, at least they ought to let you shop for some of the groceries.”
I get what he’s saying: if you are holding me accountable for the performance of 53 guys, I should get to pick which guys they are. Well, teachers don’t get to pick. But in the right place, they get to pick how they teach. In one of my first conversations with my new department chair (now a district-level administrator) when I hired on, I found out that our department was moving in the direction of classroom -level autonomy. The state decides what you have to teach, yeah, but you get to decide how to do it.
We do a lot of planning as content teams. Our main focus during this school year is detracking. Instead of offering three ability-grouped sections, there will be “Honors Algebra II”, and just-plain “Algebra II” next year. Those are the options, kid. So we’re spending a lot of time figuring how to support our struggling learners in a faster-paced environment.
Now, they’re not coming around tomorrow to make a movie. Nobody here is doing anything earth-shattering and disruptive, but it is obviously cool to have the freedom to teach in your own style. Occasionally, monumentally cool things happen. Sometimes, it’s a smaller victory. In classic “happy accident” style, I may have stumbled across something cool this week, in terms of the order in which material is presented for maximum learning.
We’re in the midst of a (short) trig unit. Right angle trig, sine and cosine graphs, that’s about it. “Coterminal angles” and “Functions of any angle” gets a drive-by. Law of Sines and Law of Cosines get pushed back to Pre-Cal. There’s probably more emphasis on graphing. But: What if the order flip-flopped? Graph first, then tackle coterminal angles and the general definition of the functions?
I feel like I’ve got to lay a pretty good foundation with the graphs. Maybe, emphasize that the graph is periodical and hits the same value multiple times. I think the visual will help my students grasp the concept that there is a sine & cosine value for all of those degree measures, then we can go from there.
My 2nd hour wasn’t having it:
My 5th hour response: marginally better. Then I was out Thursday for an all-day curriculum planning meeting (coincidentally). So we’ll see. If the periodic nature of the sin/cos functions take root, I’ve set the table for Friday beautifully.
We quickly recapped the sin/cos graph assignment Friday at the outset of class, pointing out again how the graph of the function repeats. I’m guardedly optimistic. Let’s roll with Desmos, huh? We started with a card sort of definitions – letting the students do some word root detective work.
They had some mild success at matching words, images, and definitions, and we took a couple of minutes to make sure we were speaking the same language.
No problem! I think N/W questions make us stop and think more than if we're not asked to, well, stop and think. Also, I would plan to pause at the card sort to make sure we're all speaking the same triggy language. Thoughts?
(H/T to some of my online PLN friends who helped me tweak this activity. Protip: when smart people give you advice, take it.)
After a couple more screens where we pondered the cyclical nature of the graphs, it’s time to get to the meat and potatoes.
Good news: pretty much everybody could sketch a 135 degree angle. Also good news: most could recall the ratios for sine and cosine. So let’s push the ball upfield. Here’s how to calculate the ratio of any angle. Go.
We ran out of time before we could dive deep into the idea of positive and negative values for the functions.
Ironically, this activity connected much better with my 2nd hour than with my 5th.
But what can I say? Friday afternoon, after lunch, sun shining thru my windows….
At least some of them let their creativity shine thru as well.
So, did this little tweak in the order of sections pay off? Not in a fireworks/shooting stars kind of way. I think the visual of the animated unit circle/sine graph was huge. And I think the Desmos activity was an improvement over me standing there and dishing out notes and giving a written assignment.
The bigger story is the freedom to re-arrange things in such a way that it benefits my students. Writ large, my Alg II planning group met last week to ponder some options for next year, including SBG, but we also took a hard look at the course from a power standards standpoint. We front-loaded the course with Alg II standards, pushed the trig section back to the end of the year, and flip-flopped a couple of units to get balance between 3rd and 4th quarter. Standards-Based Grading has some folks curious, and is being strongly encouraged, but individual teachers have the option whether to implement it.
Sounds to me like as seasoned chefs, a lot of us will be buying our own groceries next year. I feel a little bit like Bobby Flay already.
That tweet up at the top is from a former Illinois Teacher of The Year, presenter, and all-around good guy who has an active six-year run streak. The image below is my running log for this year. He ran almost as far today as I have all year.
I’ve got six marathons under my belt, 9 half marathons, which I guess would have qualified me as a semi-serious runner at some point. The kind of guy who was up at 4:00 am on school days to train. Not no more tho.
To say my fitness and nutrition have taken a nosedive would be an understatement. Too much of the good things in life. Looking at you, Greenbush and Home Run Inn.
It’s so easy to fall out of a good habit. Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that. There is a season for everything, and moderation is a key in life. Plus I’m older, and slower. Circle of life, and all. But standing on the scale these days, the Steve-O-Meter is heading in the wrong direction. Maybe just a salad tonight…
Speaking of seasons, this is the Season Of Checking Things Off The List. Not big things, just tedious, day-by-day things. Things that have deadlines.
Submitting evidence for my teacher evaluation ( I actually provide links to this blog for some of the domains, so that part is relatively easy)
Gathing proof of residence and shot records and such for my youngest son’s enrollment in high school
Some documentation I haven’t needed in a while for my 1099 work so I can file taxes
Trying to do those things all at once = bad times.
It’s got to be a daily commitment. In truth, I should go to school on myself. Every quarter I make two copies of my gradebook printout, one for my records, and one that is part of the required paperwork to turn in at end-of-year checkout. It beats trying to remotely print a million pages on a day everyone is trying to get their stuff done and get out.
I wonder if there are other things that I could be doing “as I go”?
(Narrator voice: Yes, there are.)
Everyone has their “tell” for stress. I’m reading Relentless Pursuit again, if you are curious about how things have been going in my little world as of late. In the book, part of the evaluation process for the freshly-minted teachers in Watts is summed up in a Teach For America document: Teaching As Leadership Framework (One Pager)
It outlines the day-to-day actions, and long-term planning that TFA research has indicated leads to “meaningful impact on a student’s academic trajectory”. Nothing in there is proprietary. I think most teachers in examining their own district’s evaluation tool would recognize most of the same tactics. So, even though I’m not a TFA teacher, I’ve had that printout behind my desk for years.
Bad habits don’t develop overnight, and good habits need reps to take hold as well. We tell our students that on the daily, right? So maybe the thing to do is to make one positive action toward rebuilding those good habits daily. I’ve committed to getting out to run three times over spring break. And I planned out my entire 4th quarter before I left teh building on the Friday before Spring Break. (Doc here: Term Planning Grid). That’s a good start.
So it’s Holy Week and Dyngus Day and then most of a quarter left to go, including all our snow make-up days. Only days off for the rest of the year are Election Day and Memorial Day.
It’s a marathon, not a sprint. I gotta train like it. Lace up the Supernovas and get out there. Every Damn Day.
Second quarter is underway. Quadratics are here, in all their parabolic glory. In Algebra I, the quadratic unit was pretty much the culmination of the year. In Algebra II, it’s the end of a quickie nine-week refresher course.
And based on what I see and hear when we start talking “axis of symmetry” and “zeroes of a function”, I have to assume Algebra 1 never happened. Agent J, do your thing:
I’ve had to reteach foundational skills in every chapter thus far this year. We literally start at Level Zero with everything.
My kids are good kids, just… math is not a priority to (most of) them. That’s cool. Let’s build in some support then. We can’t just plow thru the sections, throw a day of review at them and give a quiz, then move on. It’s a recipe for disaster.
Multi-day review is now the new normal. One, Two, Three days… whatever it takes.
This time around we started with a set of review problems, split between standard form, vertex form, and intercept form. Students group up, bounce ideas off each other, peer-tutor and correct, all while I circulate and help my students who are most in need of a push to get started. Worked-out answer key is on Canvas so students can check their work, even outside of classtime.
Then the next day: Two Truths And A Lie. Hey, all the cool kids are doing it. Sarah Carter and Jon Orr are amongst those who wrote about it. And after this day, I can see why:
Massive amounts of thinking and collaborating and getting up and moving around and proving. Awesome. Here’s the document I put together for the students to use (pdf): Two Truths And A Lie Template.
Day Three it’s Marbleslides. Happens to be a Friday, which is perfect. Because Children Must Play™️.
By the way, Marbleslides is designed for a 2:1 environment. Matt Vaudrey is among many who are very large proponents of pairing students up on one device for purposes of fostering student conversation and collaboration. I made sure to include “talk it over with your partner, make a plan, draw a ramp with your finger, before you start randomly changing numbers” in my directions on every screen. I think it helped.
I’ve learned a few things about high school kids the last 14 years. One of those things is: they are not shy about telling you they need help. Might be verbal. Might be non-verbal. But the message is sent. So the question I have for myself is: You got the message. What did you do with this information, Mr. Teacher Man?
They need support.
They need a chance to collaborate and help each other.
They need to be able to think their way through a problem.
They need to see each other’s work
And they need reps. Lots and lots of self-checking reps.
We’ve got a quiz coming up on linear stuff. It’s all warmed-over Algebra I from their freshman year, but that was two years ago and for a lot of them at the beginning of the year it’s about as clear as mud. That’s a bad way to fly when we’re trying to rebuild a foundation for the rest of Algebra II.
I need a plan. Like Gerry Faust recruiting future Heisman Trophy winner and Pro Football Hall of Famer Tim Brown out of Texas:
All the bases covered. And then some. Rapid fire.
I’m all-in for the gamified review favored by many members of my PLN. I like to have fun in class too. But my students in years past have also asked for a way to get more practice. Maybe even… a worksheet.
Next up is a review method promoted by JulieReulbach known as One Sheets – all collaborative and student-centered. Plus it makes an excellent “as-needed” support on the quiz itself. The cleanup hitter is my very first MyMathLab assignment. The students can work on this online assignment over two days outside of class, getting multiple attempts at a problem, and able to access hints and help. That one’s targeted at my “give me a worksheet, please, Mr. Dull” people.
Differentiation, you guys. For real.
But not because it’s a buzzword (which it is), or because it’s a sub-domain on my evaluation rubrics (which it is). It’s a response to my students’ needs.
I am a former holder of a State of Nevada Substitute Teacher License (very nice day job while finishing up work on my teaching degree at UNLV: Work When You Want To, Sleep In When You Have To). So: I’ve been there. I have a pretty good idea of what a sub needs from me when I’m not there. And: I have a pretty good idea what I need from a sub when I’m not there.
There are basically three kinds of sub days:
scheduled in advance, such as a workshop or personal day
night before/morning of with time to plan, such as waking up to a sick kiddo
unconscious, the reason your office manager asks you for Emergency Sub Plans
This last one is a capital-E Emergency. The middle one can turn into an “emergency” with poor planning.
So: Let’s not.
My daily goal: everything done a minimum of two days in advance. (You can credit my mentor teachers during my student teaching year for that timetable). That’s a Canvas assignment fully set up with student work documents, resource links, and videos. My notes are set up in Google Slides, with the in-class examples recorded with my doc cam and Screencast-O-Matic. The slides are embedded in the Canvas page so students can access them even if I’m not there. The handouts are printed out ahead of time and waiting on my desk. PLTW is a totally different animal as the entire course is set up in Canvas. I figure that commitment to planning takes most of my days back to DEFCON 5. The sub can point the students to the Canvas page for the day, and everything the students need is there for them. When I worked at a non-Canvas school, I used Edmodo. Google Classroom is another option that several of my teaching colleagues used.
It doesn’t always work out that way that everything is set up in advance, but when it does, that covers 96% of the horrible things that can happen.
For the other 4% there’s my PLN.
As part of my teacher evaluation I needed to submit an formal emergency sub plan last year. With a little digging, I ran across this from MTBoS superstar MegCraig – an activity for her ACT Prep class in which students do some research on the score require to gain acceptance to their school of choice. It’s an ideal Emergency Sub Plan: one class period, suitable for all my students, relevant, minimal demands on my sub. I’ve never had to use it, but it’s there if I need it.
I just need one more thing: to be able to set this up in Canvas somehow so my students can get to it while I’m in an emergency room somewhere, without Mrs. Dull having to hack my Canvas account to activate it.
But then, what’s an emergency without a little rampant panic, right?
Know what tho? I’ve got a big round-number birthday coming up this week. My life can do with a little less drama. I’ll take the plan-ahead route and roll the dice.
It’s practically a family motto: Plan for the worst, and hope for the best.
This is my small contribution to a larger community of teachers who write, tweet, and share and call themselves the Math-Twitter-Blog-O-Sphere (#MTBoS). In an effort motivated at Twitter Math Camp this summer and boosted by JulieReulbach, teachers are sharing around a single topic each week. Look for the collection every Sunday under the #SundayFunday or #MTBoS hashtags, or at I Speak Math. And don’t be bashful: there’s a google form there so you can jump in too.
Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, obviously. She’s self-taught on a lot of web tools, mostly because her dad gives her the freedom to find and use the tools that help her learn, and express her learning.
That graphic from the Speak Up survey up there? The one that shows what tools kids want in their dream classroom versus what adults think is needed for kids to learn? Brooke and her dad don’t just give that lip service. They live it. On fire, man.
So: What if we could blow the whole thing up and start over? What would that look like?
We can’t rebuild institutional school, but we can change what we do and how we do it within the existing framework. That’s how I’m approaching the coming school year.
My school is going 1:1. We have a unique opportunity to rebuild how we “do school”, what lesson design looks like, how students interact with us, with each other, and with the math.
Close your eyes. What do you see and hear when I say “punk rock band”?
I don’t imagine too many teachers or administrators will be mistaken for punk rockers. But like Dewey Finn’s kids in School of Rock, we can steal a little bit of the ethos. I’m currently reading Route19 Revisitedby Marcus Gray. It’s the 500-page backstory of how the Clash made their seminal double-albumLondon Calling.
They lived punk. They looked punk. But the sound drew on a variety of influences, including early R&B, blues, rockabilly, reggae, pop, and jazz. And while the stereotypical punk rock song is raw and unsophisticated (“volume, velocity, and aggression”, as Gray puts it), the Clash took its time to craft its masterpiece.
As Gray writes: “The original version of the lyric came first. But the final version of the lyric came last.” The educational equivalent is: “It’s OK to teach 20 years. Just don’t teach the same year 20 times.”
So: Now’s the shot. A chance to take a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, and build something awesome. This tool and that one, and remake my Algebra II classes. My kids are gonna walk in every single day with a laptop. That device can either be a paperweight, a distraction, or an awesome tool for learning. My option.
“My top takeaway from the day: the different sessions I attended (and facilitated), the tools I got hands-on with, all existed as part of a framework. In reflecting at the end of the day, I realized I had curated my own little Lesson Design seminar. Whether using Docs & Forms for formative assessment, or creating a hyperdoc for a unit review, or creating an activity in Activity Builder, this was all about identifying a learning objective, and then laying out a path for students to follow, and letting them do the work. And the learning. I’m seeing that Google Classroom, Activity Builder, and hyperdocs can be a powerful combination for my classes.”
I’ve been building my toolkit for years. Tweaking and adjusting. Borrowing from Vaudrey and Nowak and Nowak some more and Carter and Meyer (of course).
At South Shore e-Learn Katie Bradford shared some cool tools for use of video in lesson design. I see this as an opportunity to go 2:1, pairing students up to annotate a quick video on the skill of the day.
The wildcard is MyMathLab. Several of our teachers who have on-demand access to carts have been using this Pearson tool on the daily to create practice exercises and assessments. It’s actually an expectation within the district. I picture it as a way to create extensions and additional practice as a way to differentiate for students. Gonna need some tutorial there though.
So that’s a lot of tools to sort through. It’s gotta be done though. The shift to 1:1 can be done well, or done poorly. It’s too great an opportunity to fumble away.
It can’t be just, OK, kiddies, open your computer, here’s the lesson, pencil/paper just like its always been. The laptops will be an afterthought. Forgotten. Left in lockers.
Or worse, I use them as a $300 worksheet.
And it will be an opportunity gone by the wayside. Instead, I’ve got an chance to build on what’s come before, give it my own personal touch through several rounds of revision, and who knows, maybe turn out a masterpiece.
“Sometimes it’s necessary to march a long way for glory….”
A couple of the smart people I follow online are in Italy this week, writing/posting about their experiences. And they are stirring up memories for me of chaperoning my youngest son’s church choir trip to Rome last Christmas.
After lunch, we met a foreign student studying at the university here. We told him what a privilege it must be to live in Italy. Yes, he said, it’s a beautiful place, but not the kind of place he would stay once he finishes his degree. Why not? I asked. Because everyday life here is hard. The bureaucracy will grind you down. It takes forever to get things done. Italians find it hard to embrace innovation, and don’t ever want to change, even when change is necessary.
“But that’s attractive to some of us Americans,” I said. “We live in a country where it seems like everything is constantly changing. That stability looks comforting to us.”
“Maybe so,” he said. “I’ve never been to America. I’m telling you, though, that Italy looks different when you live here. As a tourist, you only see the most beautiful parts.”
I’m basically a dark person. I look for that stuff – the Not-Beautiful parts. Rome has roughly the same population as Chicago. Most of the same problems too. I saw the homeless people living in the walkway from the parking garage to the Vatican. The panhandlers on the streets of the city. The multi-faceted security system at the front door of our pensione, which fronted a neighborhood side street. And the tent cities off the side of the highway leading from our neighborhood to the airport.
But you hold on to the beautiful memories, and keep in mind the troubles, even when it’s time to go back to work. They are the stuff dreams are made of. Like Pete’s dad said, having dreams is what makes life tolerable.
And for teachers, summer is one long Dream World. You have no idea how hard I’ve been sleeping in on weekends these days. But in the immortal words of Midnight Oil, your Dreamworld is just about to end.
It’s time to play America’s favorite game show, “Who Said It?”
The line is: “July 4th is my least favorite holiday.”
The answer, of course, is “D”. But most recently Mrs. Dull uttered those words. Because when the municipal fireworks show Grand Finale has dissipated and the cookout is over and the fire on the beach is put out, it means summer is over. (But but but but… there’s still 5 weeks left, right? Yeah, but from a parent standpoint that’s just 5 weeks of budgets getting busted while mom and dad get clothes and shoes and Clorox wipes and notebooks and pencils ready for back to school).
I bumped into one of my fellow math teachers after Mass today. I played it cool when we talked summer and planning and textbooks and curriculum maps, but in truth I can already feel the low-grade anxiety setting in.
My to-do list from back in April/May? Yep. Still there, waiting for me to finish catching my breath and doing dad things in the first half of summer break. We got that big bike ride in, yeah, and are tearing a wide swath through the local library, and I almost convinced him to try to learn Kashmir on his violin, but it’s not like I have bright shiny new unit plans all set to go. I really only need to tweak last year’s plans in Canvas, but…
Time to start thinking about August.
There should be a plan tho, shouldn’t there? Yeah. I think I’m more likely to get stuff done if I plan it on paper, on purpose. Maybe make an actual schedule, like a daily planner, day by day, hour by hour. Plan intentionally.
One of my college buddies (and Saturday night radio show co-host) was my model here. Jack made a weekly grid on graph paper, using a pencil, a ruler, and some highlighters. He blocked out the time for his classes, studying, meals, sleep, social/entertainment time, tacked it up on the corkboard above his dorm-room desk… and stuck to it.
He’s a better man than I am.
The 21st Century version:
That’s cool and all, but definitely for printing out. Can we get Googlely with it? I think so. (Courtesy RichardByrne).
So that’s my plan. Make a calendar, share it with my youngest. Block out time for reading, for biking, for his summer violin practice, meals, play time, sleep. Share it with him so he has editing rights. Then, let’s get some summer stuff done so when August 10 rolls around we don’t look at each other and say “awww, man, where’d our summer go?”
As my running friends like to say when wrapping up marathon training and beginning a taper, “The hay is in the barn. Now all that’s left to do is run your race.” Because the dreams are so much more pleasant when you’ve taken care of business.