“Get a cup of water.”
This was part of our lesson plan yesterday. Some already had it at their desks with them. Others had to run to the kitchen or wherever to get something to drink…well, to hold. I held my coffee.
Then we watched this video clip.
And then we watched this video that I made on Screencastify. Well, my self-paced kiddos watched it. I just spoke it to my teacher-paced kiddos live on Zoom.
And that’s the walk for my talk. Last week, I talked a big game to kids about stress being an unwelcome guest on our journey. This week, I am trying to live up to that promise. I do, indeed, want them to “put down the class” when a lack of clarity has led to confusion, turned to frustration, and produced stress. Of course, I am not suggesting there is no value in the productive struggle–there is. But I am suggesting that when the struggle is no longer productive, it is time to reach out to me for help. I have taught long enough in the “best of situations” to know that what I think is crystal clear in terms of direction is clear as mud on the other side, and when there is a screen between and distance divides, the likelihood of a lack of clarity is greater. And I want kids to know that I bear the responsibility of making things clear for them. Yes, it is often their “fault” for various reasons (didn’t read the directions, opened the wrong document, etc.), and yes, I could put it back on them and “teach them responsibility,” but that’s not how I roll. I would rather the kids learn responsibility by acknowledging they need help and seeking it.
Is it more work? Yep. No two ways about it. But it’s my work. It’s what I am here for. It’s what I am trained for. Yes, it’s work. Yes, it’s inconvenient. But I discovered long ago, that teaching is not about convenience; it’s about service. But shouldn’t there be a limit? Yes. Absolutely. We all have limits, and right now those limits are being put to the test in ways we never imagined. But for 8 hours a day, I try to be limitless. I bend for kids. I almost break for kids, but I haven’t broken yet, and after 25 years, I don’t think I will. Because. Because, at the end of the day, I find my limits and I try to live them. No emails. No paperwork. Unless there is an emergency–and I have come to learn and live, that there are no emergencies when it comes to school, it can wait. We know this. And I strive to get my kids to understand this. Most “emergencies” are only so because of the “constructs” we have created. Deadlines can be moved. Penalties prevented. Grades changed. In truth, we can all “put down the class.” And just as we can put it down, we can pick it up. It’ll be there in the morning. In my 25, there never was a day it wasn’t waiting for me.
Happy Wednesday, all. Be safe.
Do. Reflect. Do Better.
I don’t know where to start except thanks for listening. It is 8:30 on a Sunday night I’ve been working 12 hours already. Took 3 hours just to put the data in the required participation and effort grades. All the kids got below a 3 so now I have to contact all the parents. My team is still expecting me to get my part of the weekly slides done before tomorrow. And I have to have the rubrics all filled out for the Narrative On-Demand writing prompts from U of S. Curriculum also by tomorrow. I’m exhausted by a string of 12 hour days since 09.01. Oh and I have quite a few Safe-School videos due by the end of the month or I am barred from teaching until they are done. I used to love teaching, 25 years I’ve loved it. Thanks for listening.
I am sorry, Bret. Thanks for speaking. I hope you find a way to put down the class. Hang in there.
I watched the video and thought the message is spot on. However, I am wondering if you meant to say “Put down the glass” in your title and story instead of “Put down the class”. Thanks for inspiring others 🙂
Hi, Lori. It was an intentional spin. I want them to put down my class if they get to a point of confusion/frustration and reach out to me for help. At least that is what I was trying to do. Thank you for connecting and commenting. Happy Friday.