It Was Just in Someone's Mind

This morning, in a post-camp haze, I was mindlessly flipping through channels.  Being Sunday morning, there were a number of church services, and a passed one with a very large and exceptionally skilled choir.  They were singing The Hallelujah Chorus. While I am not sure why they were singing this in July, I am happy to hear this song any time, so I stayed and enjoyed the rapturous crescendo that defines that incredible work, missing being in such a choir (because hearing that song from an audience is nothing compared to being surrounded by it).  As it ended, it occurred to me that, because it was written in 1741, there was a time when that song did not exist.  What then struck me was what it must have been like to be Handel, to have never heard that song before, and then to have had it in your mind.  What must that feel like? 

Creativity and imagination are words we have cheapened in our culture. Like most other good words, we have overused them to the point of meaninglessness or used them in a context they are too big for.  When we tell students that part of their grade on a project will be for creativity, what too many teachers have meant is that they will give points for making it pretty.  All you need is a little glitter to get creativity points (which is disadvantaging to boys, by the way - a project can be awesome and ugly at the same time and there is far too much glitter in the world).  We also act like poets and visual artists and dancers are creative, while scoffing at the idea of a creative scientist.  This comes, I believe, from a misunderstanding of what creativity means.  Creativity, as defined by Sir Ken Robinson, is "the process of having original ideas that have value."  It is original thinking, and it's part of being made in the image of God. He is creative, so we are creative.

But it starts with something else we seem to have trouble grasping the definition of - imagination.  Again, we use it too often out of context.  Anyone who says kind of silly things is praised for having a good imagination, but we are making that word too small.  Imagination is one of the things that sets humans apart from the rest of creation.  It means having an image in our minds of something that does not exist.  Imagination enables us to envision the outcome of various choices we might make.  It allows us to hold imaginary arguments in our heads before having real ones.  It gives writers the ability to create stories and movie makers to create new worlds, but it is also what enabled the construction of a highway system before there had been one.  Before there was ever a skyscraper, someone envisioned it.  Far from being the exclusive realm of artists, imagination is held by all humans.  It is the gift from God that has allowed us to create and advance culture, to dream, to write, to invent, to describe the atom, and to travel to the moon.

Handel imagined a song he had never heard before, and a in Japanese civil engineer imagined this highway interchange.  Did he intend for it to look like a brain?  I don't know.  But, it took a nurtured and well-trained brain to make it happen.  It started with an image in his mind.  He then had to figure out how to get it out of his mind, onto paper, into the mind of someone else who saw its value.  They had to make a plan for how to make it a reality, pitch it to a group of people that would also see its value, get funding, materials, and labor.  They then had to teach those people the plan.  Those people then had to execute it.  

This blog is meant to be about education, so here's the connection.  Kids have tons of imagination, and sometimes, we unintentionally squelch it when we should be nurturing it.  There are a million products that are supposed to stimulate imagination.  While some of the people who design these may be well-meaning, the majority are just monetizing parental insecurities.  We don't have to stimulate creativity in children because God already gave it to them.  Our job is to keep them from losing it.  If a child mentions a crazy idea (which they do at least two or three times a day), it is true but unhelpful to say, "That's crazy.  The world doesn't work that way."  It would be more helpful to say, "What would that look like?" or "How would you do that?"  That allows them to elaborate on the image in their mind.  Keep them talking about the original idea they have.

Developing a child's imagination and creativity doesn't have to be difficult, and it doesn't have to cost money.  In fact, you only really need two sentences.  "That's interesting.  Tell me more."

Summer "Ehs"

When I created my Twitter account, one of the purposes was to use it for professional development.  I began by following scientific accounts, like NASA and Scientific American.  I also followed a few educational accounts, like Retrieve Learn and Cult of Pedagogy.  It took a long time, though, to build a community of other teachers (because you can't search Twitter by profession).  I am, however, now at the point where I spend a fair amount of time interacting with other teachers on Twitter.  This week, I had a lovely conversation with this lady.

First of all, let me say that I am so grateful that there are young teachers who were willing to begin their careers during the pandemic.  This lady likely did her student teaching virtually or hybrid and entered her first year in the year that most experienced teachers will tell you has been the most stressful in terms of student behavior and attendance and has seen more teachers exiting the profession than I have seen in my career.  So, God bless her for not being put off by these challenging times.  

I also love that she was willing to put this out there.  A lot of young teachers are scared of feelings they didn't expect to have.  The first year of teaching is filled, not only with the challenges you expect (learning to time things properly, writing test questions, creating projects, dealing with classroom management, etc.) but also with things you don't expect and might be a bit frightened by (the feeling of not liking a student, nightmares about the first week, the words you wish you hadn't said out loud, realizing you spent a lot of time explaining something incorrectly).  It is a wise teacher that reaches out to a mentor, but if you don't know those things are normal, you might not be inclined to.  

Reading through the replies to this young lady showed Teacher Twitter at its best.  It isn't always encouraging to see what teachers are sharing on Twitter.  I remember being warned about the teacher's lounge before my first year.  It's where teachers share the thoughts they don't share elsewhere, and that is sometimes dark.  Fortunately, I was in a very positive environment my first year, so I didn't have to deal with anything particularly negative, but I know it can be awful, and teacher Twitter is a worldwide teacher's lounge (with the difference being that you don't know is trustworthy and who is crazy, who just complains about everything and can be brushed off and who is actually telling you something important).  I have often wondered how some people keep their jobs after the things they say on Twitter.  This post, however, was only responded to by one or two Negative Nancies.  She was given lots and lots of encouragement.  She was encouraged to know that these feelings are common and given tons of advice on how to cope with it.  It boils down to the difference between the school year in which a teacher is scheduled and feels a sense of purpose, and the summer in which they decide their own schedules and feel a little useless.  

Just before I began writing this post, I went back to her profile.  She is grateful for the love and advice, and the original post now has 285 replies and nearly 2000 hearts.  

Experienced teachers, this is how we should be using Twitter, to encourage each other, especially our youngest colleagues.  New teachers, you may not be ready for this level of interaction.  I cannot imagine if social media had existed at the end of my first year, and I got 285 pieces of advice.  If you would be overwhelmed by that, text the teacher you were next door to last year.  Have lunch with an experienced teacher.  Send a quick email to a trusted administrator or even one of your former teachers or professors.  They'll be able to give you perspective and help you feel known.  As teacher tea has said here, you may "need a reminder you're not alone."  

Small Hops of Faith

Y'all know I love Learning and the Brain, right?  If not, welcome. This is clearly the first blog post of mine you have ever read.  One of the reasons I love following their blog is that they recognize the nuances of scientific research.  They pose a question like, "Does a student learn more when they take notes by hand than when they take them on a laptop?" The answer most often sounds like this.  "In some limited circumstances, sort of."

I love that because they do not draw absolute conclusions, knowing that the researchers tested a specific set of kids under a specific set of tightly controlled conditions.  When people ask questions of the presenters at their conferences, the answer is rarely short, and it always involves both the limitations of their research as well as their conclusions and often with a caveat to "apply it to your context in the way that works for you."  That is a scientist's answer.  If it surprises you, it may be that you have limited exposure to real science.

The TV version of science seen on The Big Bang Theory and Bones (both of which I like) and the like would have you believe that scientists are slaves to logic and, therefore, always certain of their conclusions.  It's why people were so frustrated with Dr. Fauci when they asked questions like, "When will we return to normal?" and "Will we be having traditional Christmases with our families this year?" They wanted answers of absolute certainty, and he was giving them answers that included "If . . . then" and "Assuming that there isn't a new variant at that time, then."  Those answers are perfectly normal to those of us who spend time around scientists.  If I pose a question to ten scientists in a room, I'll get at least eleven different answers.  It doesn't bother me at all because I have spent a lot of time reading and listening to scientists, but I think most people expect the fictional version in which logic is worshipped.

I have news for you.  Logic is a relatively recent invention. dating back to roughly the fifth century BC.  It's hard to imagine that there was a time when no one said, "Well that's just not logical," but there certainly was, and it was only about 3000 years ago.  It's an important tool, and many of the things in our lives certainly fall into its category, but it's important to note that not everything does.  Something can be logical and yet untrue.  I think most of us are okay with that.  What I have found really bothers people is that something can be illogical and yet still true.  

When I was a small child, I loved playing in the sandbox in my backyard.  One day, I skipped around scattering sand as though I were sowing seeds.  The following day, there were dandelions growing in those parts of the yard, and I drew the conclusion that sand was dandelion seeds. My kid logic was flawless.  There were no dandelions.  I did something.  Then, there were dandelions.  Therefore, what I did must have caused them to be there.  I don't remember how long I believed that or how I found out it wasn't true, but it obviously is not.  Conspiracy theorists take advantage of this kind of thinking to be persuasive by putting two unrelated thoughts (sand and dandelions) together and then saying something like, "It's obvious that no other conclusion can be drawn."  I have students who draw logical but incorrect conclusions pretty frequently, and they are shocked when I tell them that something can be logical and untrue at the same time.

There are also a number of things in modern science that are illogical and yet still true.  Do you want to have your mind blown?  Google the term "quantum weirdness."  There is nothing intuitive or logical about quantum mechanics.  When I tell my students that an electron can be at point A and then at point B without having been anywhere in between, I get either blank stares or complete astonishment.  I know. It doesn't make sense, right?  Even weirder, it behaves differently if we are measuring it than it does if we aren't.  There is a possibility (what's called a non-zero probability) that all the atoms in your trashcan could reside on the same part of the quantum wave function all at once and jump right off the ground or that all of the atoms in your body could align perfectly with all of the space between atoms in a wall, and you could just walk right through it.  (Don't spend a lot of time watching your trashcan or walking into walls over and over.  Non-zero probability means so close to zero that we can neglect it, but just not zero, something along the lines of a 1 in 100 billion chance.). My point here is that while none of this seems logical (string theory requires a minimum of 9 dimensions, and light behaves simultaneously as a wave and a series of particles), it is nonetheless true. Well, the jury is still out on string theory, but I want it to be true.  While we don't think of science as requiring faith, the farther we get into it, the more we recognize that there are some things we either don't yet understand or may not ever be able to understand.

Last week, I had lunch with a friend, and she was telling me about a conversation she had with a student.  The student was struggling with the problem of evil and had questions about sovereignty (with you sister, we've all struggled with those questions).  My friend had given her some Kierkegaard to read in which he addresses the point at which things must simply be accepted on the basis of faith (Can I just say at this point that I love that I have colleagues who read, enjoy, and recommend Kierkegaard and students who might actually read it?  I love my job.). My friend was wondering if it was okay to take this approach as there is so much of a push right now to counter objections to Christianity with logic and rationality.  Apologetics is important, and I do think there are people who may be persuaded toward Christianity through works like Mere Christianity and Reasonable Faith because it shows that our faith is not a leap of faith from A to Z.  

But, much like science, there are times when we must recognize that something can be true even if we do not yet understand it.  It is okay that we sometimes go from A to B and B to C and C to D with logic while recognizing that we may need faith to get from D to F.  If the smartest people in science are willing to accept that about the natural world which can mostly be observed and measured, why do we insist that all parts of the supernatural world (which cannot be) must be explainable without any reaching.  Our faith is not a blind one or one that requires huge leaps of faith all the way from beginning to end, but you aren't going to make sense of the Trinity through logic, and that is okay.  Not everything that is true is logical, and not everything that is logical is true; so you may need to make a few small hops of faith in theology just like we do with science.

Are You Pro Life? Part 2

Friday, the Supreme Court announced its overturning of the Roe v. Wade decision of 1973.  So much ink has been spilled on this topic in the past 72 hours that I almost feel redundant writing this.  This blog, however, is often used for me to work out my own thoughts, which I very much need to do on this issue; so if you get something out of it, that's just icing on the cake.  In the week after George Floyd's death, I wrote about how my view of what it meant to be pro-life was expanding (which is why I have titled this Part 2), and you can read that here if you are interested.  As always, when I am working out my own thoughts, it may appear rambling, disconnected, and even somewhat contradictory as I try to embrace and/or resolve cognitive dissonance.

I have been against abortion for as long as I have known what it was.  I think I was 12 when I first started writing legislators about it, and I was 13 when I became the database keeper for the Raleigh chapter of the NC Right to Life.  I think how you view abortion hinges entirely on whether you believe life begins at conception.  If you do, you believe that the woman is carrying a human baby, and it is impossible to find your way to accepting the destruction of the unborn child.  If you don't believe life begins at conception (and if you don't, I would have to ask, "If not then, when?"), then it makes perfect sense to you for the woman to decide what she wants.  I also learned about how our state/federal system is meant to work in some of my college classes and am one of the rare people who have been required to read the US Constitution in its entirety (which is not even required in all law schools) thanks to Dr. Stephen M King.  So, for more than one reason, I am in favor of the decision to return this issue to the states.  

I am not, however, doing the victory dance you - or I a few years ago - might expect.  I've been reflecting on why that might be since the draft was leaked a couple of months ago.  I think it is because, while I believe this to be right, I don't think the church is prepared to handle the resulting fallout well.  We've put so much effort into overturning Roe that we haven't put a lot of thought into what the implications would be if and when it happened.  I think part of that might be because we didn't expect that it would.  After four decades of being told to vote Pro-Life, it seemed that those candidates cared more about keeping it as an issue than they did about following through.  Now, we are facing women who are frightened or feeling desperate.  Whether or not you or I believe they should feel scared doesn't change the reality that they do, and it seems especially cold to celebrate around them as though our team just won a sporting event against their team.  While I believe it to be good, I do so soberly and with compassion.

Many compassionate Christians have posted something equivalent to this one from Jen Wilkin.  It's a call to take care of the women who would seek abortions out of desperation (as opposed to the women who use it for birth control).  Jen and others like her have gotten flack from people on both sides.  While Jen is quite conservative, those that are farther to the right have accused her of "wokeness" and trying to play both sides for simply saying that she wants to love women in crisis.  Those on the other side have told her that if she cared about women, she would have already been doing this and that she only cares about controlling women and their bodies.  These people have obviously not looked into Jen or the Village Church, where she works because they have a history, as many churches do, of supporting women in crisis with finances, medical care, job search assistance, and adoption services.  When she calls for redoubling and expanding, she means building on what they have been doing, not starting something new.  

As with all political issues, there are extremes and inconsistencies on both sides of the spectrum.  I have friends who have posted statements that would make you believe any and all pregnancies are terminal and that every woman carrying an unwanted child will die.  I have also seen posts that bristle at the argument that this is about women in danger because a woman ought to be able to terminate her pregnancy for any reason or no reason at all.  I also have friends that are heartless in their statements about poor and desperate women (Being right doesn't make you less obnoxious when you attack a grieving woman).  While I am far from liberal, I think it is worth noting that any analysis of abortion rates have shown them to be lower in the times and places where liberals were in government.  In spite of lower restrictions, the increased amount of social services allowed women to feel it wasn't their only choice.  I also think it is worth noting that the rate of both unwanted pregnancy and abortion had been steadily dropping for the last ten years as contraception became better and more available.  My fear is that the backlash from this may reverse that trend.

I think one of the reasons for this level of emotion is that we are 

a) encouraged by our culture to be in a state of perpetual outrage (and it is exhausting).

b) led to believe that if we put enough words on social media, we have done our part (slacktivism).

c) led to believe that if something doesn't solve the whole problem, it is not worth doing (all or nothing).

Here's the part that's going to seem disconnected, but hang with me because all of this was swimming around in my head yesterday when I went to see the Elvis movie (highly recommend, by the way, but expect it to be more stressful than fun).  I have always loved the Elvis song, "If I Can Dream," but I never knew the story of its writing before this movie.  Elvis was in the middle of recording the 1968 Comeback Special when Robert Kennedy was assassinated.  For those who may not know, 1968 was the 2020 of the last century.  Between violent Vietnam war protests, racial conflict,  the assassinations of both MLK and RFK, the Zodiac Killer, and the highjacking of commercial flights, it seemed the world was falling apart.  Perhaps the only two bright points were that Mr. Rogers started airing and Apollo 8 orbited the moon.  Anyway, back to Elvis.  They were in the middle of filming when the news of RFK's shooting broke, and taping stopped for the night (over the objections of Colonel Parker who wanted him to record "Here Comes Santa Claus," like anyone would be able to do that at that moment).  As Elvis watched the television coverage, he began thinking of some of the words of Dr. King and did the only thing he could do to process his feelings.  He wrote a song with lyrics like, "There must be peace and understanding sometime. Strong winds of promise that will blow away the doubt and fear" and  "We're trapped in a world

that's troubled with pain, but as long as a man has the strength to dream, he can redeem his soul and fly." The next day, he recorded it, awing the studio audience, and the song has inspired millions since.

While I was watching this is the theater, I thought about how Elvis responded to this horrible event by doing what he could with the gifts he had.  Did recording this song solve the issues that led someone to shoot Robert Kennedy?  Of course not.  I don't think that ever entered his mind.  He didn't have the political power to affect that kind of change.  Few normal individuals do.  He couldn't fix the system; he couldn't perform surgery.  What he could do was write and sing a song.  Those are the gifts God gave him, and he used them.  In a few minutes, I'll be leaving for RFK camp training.  This camp serves children in the foster care system, and the point is always made at training that we won't be solving systemic problems.  We aren't capable of solving child abuse.  We are doing what we can with the gifts and resources we have to help the kids who are right in front of us.  

I think this is what we have to do with any issue, including abortion.  Whether you are happy or sad about the overturning of Roe, your response should be to use whatever gifts and resources you have to help women experiencing crisis pregnancies.  The church or charity near you may already have ways in which you can volunteer to give a woman rides to her doctors' appointments.  You might have the financial resources to donate to a crisis pregnancy center or adoption service.  Perhaps you own a business in which you can employ a mother and be flexible with her schedule.  Perhaps you can organize a fundraiser.  I don't know what your gifts and resources are, but when Moses stood before the burning bush, God asked him what was in his hand.  He then used that staff in ways Moses could not have previously imagined.  He can do the same with us and our feeble efforts, and if you call yourself Pro-Life, it is your responsibility to do whatever you can, especially now.

James Clerk Maxwell - Lessons of a Well Lived Life

You know the name of Isaac Newton.  You know the name of Albert Einstein and a few quotes that are misattributed to him.  Unless you have studied physics, you probably do not know the name of James Clerk Maxwell.  Yet, without him, you would not be using an electromagnetic device today or have a color television.  And all of this from a man who died at the age of 48. In the words of British mathematician and chemist, C.A. Coulson, "There is scarcely a single topic that he touched upon which he did not change almost beyond recognition."  In the biography The Man Who Changed Everything: The Life of James Clerk Maxwell, I found more than a brilliant scientist.  I found a three-dimensional human from whom we can all learn.

Curiosity - All children ask a lot of questions.  Why is the sky blue?  Where does the sun go at night? Young James was curious from the start as well, asking questions like "What is the go of that?" and "How do you know it's blue?"  His parents encouraged these questions, even when they didn't know the answers.  They never told him that he didn't need to know something because he wouldn't "use it later in life."  I have often told students about the study that shows the average four-year-old asks 300 questions per day, and I always tell them.  Those of us who never stopped doing that became science teachers.  Maxwell exemplified this in his life.  He read broad categories of literature, explored historical connections, was deeply religious, and pioneered methods of experimentation at a time when that was looked down upon by theorists as less scientific.  His parents wanted him to pursue a "real profession" like law, but the only parts of his law classes that interested him were the philosophy portions, likely because they explored the universal questions for which he wanted answers.  When Maxwell began his career, science was "thought of as interesting but not particularly useful and a splendid hobby for a gentleman but a poor profession."  By the time of his death, he had helped turn it into a respected field.

Growth Mindset - James' educational career started out a little rough.  They started him with a tutor, who was too young for the job, felt the need to exert extreme authority, and had no patience for young James' questions.  It came to a head when the boy jumped into a washtub and rowed himself out into the middle of a pond just to get away from his awful tutor.  His parents gave up on the idea of private tutoring and sent him to school, but they dressed him weirdly on the first day, and he paid a social price for it.  Despite this (and with the help of an aunt who gave him some better clothes), he kept working and eventually found a small group of like-minded friends.  He developed a reputation for kindness, and he eventually overcame his social stumbles.  When he was given the chance to choose his classes, he found a teacher that formed his view of study for the rest of his life.  "He had found someone who did not shirk from answering his awkward questions, and he was delighted to find that the answers sometimes came in the form of yet deeper questions."  When he discovered the work of Descartes, he loved his work so much that he considered him a friend.  He felt that "he appreciated their struggles, knowing that most discoveries come only after a period of stumbling and fumbling." While James understood concepts deeply, he often struggled with basic mathematical processes, and many of his errors were published.  One of his colleagues, Gustav Kirchoff, said, "He is a genius, but one has to check his calculations."  He was constantly looking for a better analogy or way to model a complex idea.  He is probably best known in physics for his system of equations that show the relationships in electromagnetic dynamics.  Those equations are admired for their simplicity, but finding them was anything but simple.  We like to think of genius as having sudden flashes of insight, but "His system of equations worked with jeweled precision.  Its construction had been an immense feat of sustained creative effort in three stages spread over nine years."

Faith - John and Frances Clerk Maxwell raised their son in two churches as he was Presbyterian and she was Episcopal.  He not only learned the doctrines, but he deeply felt them and loved the Creator.  When he moved from Cambridge to Trinity College, much was being made of whether science and religion were in contradiction, with some on both sides finding them incompatible, but there were some, like James, who found them complementary.  "His faith was too deeply rooted to be shaken, but his probing mind would not allow any possible fissures between God and science to remain unexplored."  This resulted in both deeper faith and better science.  He understood that his mind and the ability to pursue education and science was a blessing from God, and he responded by offering public lectures so that tradesmen might also have access to this blessing.  

Learner and Teacher - While James was a sought-after teacher, he never stopped being a learner.  He built upon the work of Michael Farraday, who had himself been a student of Sir Humphrey Davy.  While their work complemented those before, they also explored their fields in new ways.  In the last few years of his career, he was offered the opportunity to design and build a school.  In spite of the fact that the prevailing scientific view looked down on lab work, James insisted on balancing known theory with experimental research and invested heavily in a lab.  He wanted his students to explore new ideas, not just learn about his.  "It was a rule with him never to dissuade a man from trying an experiment, no matter how slim the prospect of success, because he might find something entirely unexpected."  

Legacy - Many scientists get hyper-focused on one thing, and while they may make a breakthrough in that one area, they don't often contribute to the larger world of science.  Perhaps because of his faith, James Clerk Maxwell seemed to understand that science was about more than answering his questions, but it was about revealing the nature of things for the good of all.  Among his poetry and journals was found this statement, "Happy is the man who can recognize in his work of Today a connected portion of the work of life, and an embodiment of the work of Eternity."  The way he approached his classes was to encourage them to learn to think and thereby explore beyond what he was teaching them was rooted in this perspective.  Because of this, "James' personal influence in Cambridge spread far beyond his own department.  Many mathematicians made use of his ideas and suggestions in their own work.  People who were at first hostile to the new laboratory, with its emphasis on combining theory with practical work, were, in time, completely disarmed by his unaffected charm and patient generosity of spirit.  Science at Cambridge entered a new age."

We may never reach the level of achievement that Maxwell did, but if we live lives of curiosity, growth, faith, learning and teaching, we can have a legacy that last after our careers are over.

Professional Development Book Recommendations

Teachers approach summer in a variety of ways.  Some don't even think about school, taking the time to completely unplug.  Others teach summer school and plan for next year.  My approach is in the middle.  I do a lot of reading and make resources that I wouldn't have time to make during the year, but it amounts to an hour or two per day, balancing personal goals and rest time with growing as a teacher.  

If you are a person who doesn't want to think about school, bookmark this post for another time.  If you are looking for some resources to develop professionally, these are a few recommendations.  Feel free to add your own to the list in the comments.

1.  Learning Begins by Andrew Watson - I wish I had read this book earlier in my career (but I couldn't have because he hadn't written it yet).  In this book, Andrew explains the impact of working memory on teaching practice.  When students reach the limit of how many items they can hold in their brain at once, we have hit the wall in our lesson.  Andrew loves science and research, but he is also intensely practical in his advice.

2.  Architecture of Learning by Kevin Washburn - If you have taught for a few years, you know what lessons are sticking points in your classroom.  Kevin's structure for planning lessons is especially useful for those units.  

3.  Powerful Teaching by Pooja Agarwal and Patrice Bain - While this book would have benefitted from an editor to remove excessive exclamation points, don't let it distract you from the good techniques offered in this book.  Retrieval practice takes advantage of how the brain works to make learning stick, and this book offers a lot of options for how to do it. (I also recommend their website, www.retrievalpractice.org.

4.  Teach Like a Champion by Doug Lemov - Doug is strong in his convictions, but he believes in a diversity of practices.  This book has had 3 different editions because it is filled with techniques and videos of real teachers implementing them in their real classes.  

5.  A Mind for Numbers by Barbara Oakley - Don't let the title fool you.  This book is valuable for all teachers, not just math teachers.  She also has a book called Learning How to Learn, based on her highly popular MOOC of the same name.  

While these are all books, there are some great podcasts (Tips for Teachers with Craig Barton, for one) and videos (Go to youtube and put in the name John Almarode).  Perhaps, I'll use another post to expound on some fo them.

Educating in the Pandemic - A Terrible Trilogy

Those who follow this blog or know me in any way know that I am in favor of reflection.  I'm a big believer in John Dewey's statement, "We don't learn from experience; we learn from reflecting on experience."  He said this in a time before experiences came at you as quickly as they do now, so taking intentional time to think about what you have learned from an experience and put it in perspective is not only wise, but critical.  Your brain simply needs the time to process it all.  That's why this blog exists.  You are along for the ride while I engage in reflection.  

If there's anything that has been moving fast and needs reflection, it is the pandemic.  It has come at us in the form of a pretty terrible trilogy - the spring and summer lockdowns of 2020, the hybrid year, and the one that was supposed to be better.  Each of them had its own challenges and lessons, so I wanted to spend some time thinking about them, hopefully in hindsight.

Spring and Summer 2020 - The first person who suggested lockdown to me was a student.  While our administration had a lot of foresight and had begun discussing the what-ifs, I had not yet heard about it.  When this student said, "Do you think they'll close schools?" my response was, "Schools don't close."  Well, little did I know that school buildings would, in fact, close and remain closed for quite some time.  We got the email on Saturday, March 14, and had two days of planning on the 16th and 17th.  I then proceeded to teach every class I had from March 18 through the end of May in a virtual environment from my house.  I wrote extensively about this back then, so if you care about the details, you can go back in the archives and read about that.  What I want to reflect on here is the big lesson of that time.  

It's this.  We can do things we didn't imagine.  When I began my career, if you had told me that 22 years later, I would teach students who were at their house from my house, I would have suggested you get some professional help.  If you had told me that on March 1, 2020, I would have done the same.  We learned so much so quickly.  We made mistakes, but we adapted.  I learned that, while many say that grades don't motivate students, not having grades certainly de-motivated them.  I learned that non-verbal communication is even more important than I realized, especially from students to teachers.  I learned that the neurotransmitters we get from physical contact are important to a healthy brain.  I learned that my administrators are the best people to be led by in a crisis (actually, I was reminded of that because I already knew it).  I am grateful that we had the ability to keep school going, but I hope we never have to do it again.

I included the summer here because it wasn't really summer.  We spent most of it reckoning with the aftermath of George Floyd's death and preparing for the return to school.  It is hard to separate it from the spring because we were still mostly in lockdown.

Hybrid Year - "So, how was it?" It seems like a casual question.  The answer is anything but casual.  It's too much to talk about with someone who didn't do it.  The answer I finally came up with was, "It's the hardest thing I've ever done for that long."  That answer is honest, but it doesn't require me to go into detail about how difficult it was to attempt to teach students in my classroom and online simultaneously, to know kids stayed home to cheat on tests and be able to do little about it, to spend weekends recreating everything I had used for two decades of teaching in digital form, to know that no one was getting my best and that working harder (even if that were possible) wouldn't solve that because split focus is inherently not a good model.  Don't get me wrong.  It was the right thing to do.  We had students who needed to stay home because they were immunocompromised or because they lived with an elderly family member or because they had been exposed and were required to quarantine.  For all the focus people have put on masks, that what actually the least difficult part of the 2020-2021 school year.  

It's harder to find what I learned from that year because my brain wants to block so much of it out.  I'll start with this.  The kids were incredibly kind and patient with teachers who were figuring out how to deal with technology in another new way (it was different than the lockdown because you had to also show it to the kids in the room with you).  They helped out when the internet suddenly went down or I got feedback from having too many microphones on at once or when I forgot to take the iPad outside for a demonstration.  I may always feel more connected to the kids I had that year because we did it together.  I also learned (again, was reminded of what I already knew) how amazing my co-workers are.  People stepped in to cover duties when someone had to leave early even though we all had more duties than ever.  If they figured out a better way to do something, they shared it with others.  They sent encouraging messages.  They held virtual meetings with students and their parents since parents couldn't come in.  My hope is that any student we had that year knows that they are valued and loved by their teachers because it was the only reason we would have put ourselves through that experience.

By the way, the pandemic wasn't the only difficulty of that year.  How do you help kids process a contested election, role models who scream at others, and an insurrection at the Capitol (while we were virtual for the week)?  The pandemic was not the only hard part of the year.

The Year That Should Have Been Easier - After the vaccine rollout in the spring, we were living well in the summer.  We went places again.  We were mostly unmasked.  We got some actual rest.  We thought we would return to a pretty normal school year.  Then, the Delta variant happened.  We rightly returned masked, but while the year before it had been a non-issue, it was now a daily battle.  If a word cloud were to be made of my speaking for the first three quarters of the year, the biggest words by far would be "Mask Up."  Students have experienced social-emotional developmental effects, and that was a lot to deal with because I know how to teach the grades I have experience with, which wasn't how they were presenting.  When the Omiron wave happened, it was like being back in hybrid.  Thankfully, it was pretty short, but it was crazy.  We also had grief to deal with because so many of us knew someone who died or struggled greatly with Covid.  People have changed their worldview, and they have become more dramatic and less tolerant of anyone whose view is even a little different from theirs.  (Again, the pandemic isn't the only thing to deal with.  The Russian aggression in Ukraine and mass shootings are difficult to navigate with students as well.)  In early February, someone said that the past two months had been the most difficult of the entire pandemic, and I think they were right.  We had as much to deal with but with less fuel in the tank.

I want a name for what teachers are experiencing.  I don't think it is PTSD.  For one thing, it is a response to chronic stress, but also, it isn't the same as what police officers and military veterans experience.  Last year was hard, but I didn't see someone die.  So, I don't think it is PTSD, but it ain't nothing.  It is definitely something.  If anyone has any ideas, I'd love to put a name on it.  

It may be too early for me to know what I've learned from this year.  Perhaps, it was that, with intentional effort, students can progress faster than we think.  I didn't want to send my 8th graders up to 9th grade as far behind as they were when I got them (socially - academically, they seemed okay), so I and my fellow 8th-grade teachers did a lot more behavior training and character discussions and mediating arguments than we have ever done in other years.  While they didn't end up where I hoped, they made remarkable progress.  I'll have to mull a bit longer through the summer on what else this year that should have been better taught me.

Here's hoping for something resembling normal for next year.