There was laughter. There were tears. There was empathy. There was discovery. There was affirmation. There was honesty. There was courage. There was us.

As I’d hoped, we got off to a great start with our “This Is Me” presentations.

Well, the kids did. I…well, I fumbled the ball a bit. I didn’t plan well. I thought six presentations a day was a good target, thinking 5-7 minutes each would be just about right. I was wrong. Really wrong, for they are taking far longer. The kids wrote more than I expected. Wrote more than I expected. Is that really a problem in an English class? At present, yes.

I apologized every period yesterday. My poor planning put kids in unfair situations, where they now have to deal with the anxiety of presenting again because they did not get to go on their scheduled day. They were gracious in their understanding, but still, I was not pleased with myself. And worse, because time is short–5 days to go–we are in a bit of a crisis mode, a crisis that could have been avoided, and no one’s to blame but me. Consequently, crisis requires action.

Though it breaks my heart and my self-set vow to do Smiles and Frowns every day–no matter what, we will not be doing Smiles and Frowns for the next few days. We need every minute. I have also asked the kids, who have longer pieces, to consider only sharing two instead of three. In the end, we will make it work, but I need to do better in the future, making sure I have allotted enough time. It is not fair to put kids in these situations.

There’s more. I also thought “my plan” would allow me to conduct the end-of-semester learning conferences with each of the presenters after the day’s presentations. Not sure what kind of math I was doing, but…well, it didn’t/doesn’t add up. So, our sacred conferences have now become paper conferences. Instead of a face-to-face, the kids will just submit their select-and-support grade sheets, and I will respond in kind–on paper. For those with whom I agree–the vast majority, I will not confer with them in person. For those with whom I do not agree, I will have to find time to sit and talk with them, until we reach an agreement. Great planning, Sy. Ugh.

But all was not lost. Poor planning aside, the kids rocked it yesterday. I was so proud of what they created and shared. One moment in particular stood out for me. It was during sixth period. She was the the third to go, and she presented a present. Jen (name changed) gave us a gift.

“In here, I am not basketball Jen. I am not hallway Jen. I am not student Jen. In here, I am Jen. This is me.”

This is how she began her self-introduction. What a gift to tell a community that she can be herself among them, that she does not have to be someone that she’s not. She was not done.

She then went on to share a brief personalized message with each person in the room, a testament to her connection with them, a connection that allows Jen to be Jen.

It was a proud moment for me. Connections matter–deeply to me. This is a gift I will cherish. This is fuel for my fire to continue advocating for connections in the classroom. But Jen wasn’t done. She threw me another morsel to feed my crazy convictions in the 180 classroom. This was her response to question one on her learning conference sheet.

As has often been the case in my experience, kids saved the day. I fumbled. They shined. And Jen blinded me with her brilliance. Maybe I should have had her plan the presentation schedule.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will experience…

…connecting through Smiles and Frowns. (this kills me)

…shining in our moments.

…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.

Happy Thursday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do (PLAN) Better.