Snapped Into Action

The story I am about to tell you is about my school.  I make no judgment about those schools that have made different decisions.  We are in a situation with no precedent, and each has to make the decision that is right in the context of their community.  With that disclaimer, I want to tell you about the incredible people with whom I work.

Wednesday night, after our first day of online instruction, a parent expressed gratitude on Facebook for how GRACE "snapped into action."  I smiled because I know it looked like a snap from the outside, but it was a long, slow snap of either two weeks or ten years, depending on how you look at it.

Two weeks before we all started social distancing, a meeting was called.  "We need to start thinking about what we would do IF schools have to close."  At that point, almost no one thought it would happen or that, if it did, it would be several weeks away.  That meeting was a Thursday.  On Monday, we had department meetings to brainstorm contingency plans, filling out a spreadsheet with questions like, "What do we need the kids to take home?  What do we need to take home?  What is and is not possible to do at home?"  Behind the scenes, our administration and IT departments were having meetings about the best tool for the delivery of online instruction.  By Friday, we were being trained on Google Hangouts Meet and outlining policies for the virtual learning environment in the event we MAY need to use it.

At that point, we thought we would have at least one more day at school to give the kids a little training, but Saturday morning, the email went out that we would transition to online learning immediately.  Two days, the faculty would be at school for planning, and we would start delivering instruction on Wednesday.  Our teachers spent that weekend adjusting our hearts to the news and preparing our homes for the change.  I live alone and only had to prepare for a teaching spot.  Those teachers who are also parents had to figure out multiple places and determine whether their internet access was strong enough for multiple people to do video streaming at the same time. 

Our IT Team and administrators started making events in the Google calendar for each of our classes for every teacher and student.  (I printed the fifth and sixth-grade rosters for our Media Specialist and was stunned to find it was 82 pages long!  I don't know how they input every student in every class K-12.)

Monday and Tuesday, there were meetings and work time and tears and training.  We made goofy videos for our students to watch on social media, letting them know how much we love and miss them.  We were encouraged to model adaptability and growth mindset to our students and communicate frequently with our parents.  We researched best practices in online schooling, shared tools, got help from our blessed Millenials, and prayed for our students and each other.

Through those days, we thanked God for putting us in a position where we could respond this way.  It all started back in 2010, when we went one to one.   All 5th through 12th-grade students at GRACE are issued a MacBook Air to use for the school year.  4th-grade students use classroom Chromebooks at school, and 3rd-grade teachers sometimes check out a cart to use them as well.  Without this equipment, there would be no way to provide equity to our students in online learning.  In the second year of the program, we realized the need for a Learning Management System (LMS).  The learning curve was pretty steep that first year, but we eventually became comfortable using it.  Now, we just say, "It's on Talon," and students know what to do.  In the years since, we have been coached by some amazing people (Laura, Daniel, Tomeka, and others) on how to implement technology usage in the classroom.  Like European cathedrals that took generations to build, each successive technology teaching coach has laid bricks on top of the foundation originally laid by Sean and Diane when they first cheered us through the one to one model.

Wednesday morning, we began online delivery of content, each teacher in different places.  Students jumped in quickly, and with few exceptions, they behaved well in our classes.  We've laughed and stayed connected.  We've met each others' pets, and students have used things at their home to show examples of our content (from a fish tank to an accordion).  Each teacher has office hours online for students to ask questions, and some do.  Others just drop in to say hello.  Teachers have checked in on each other with hangouts as well.  We miss each other dearly, but we are grateful for these tools and for our ability to use them.  We have a daily faculty meeting to debrief what is and is not working and to pray.  Without these face to digital face interactions, I would lose my mind from isolation.  It's been great to see people, even if it is across a screen.

As I scrolled through Facebook on Wednesday night, I was grateful for the support of our parents because, while parents from other schools were complaining about trying to teach their kids at home (and students after the new AP test guidelines were released), our parents and students were expressing their prayers for us and thanking us for our efforts.  As I watched videos and read statements from other heads of school and superintendents (who are still trying to figure out what to do) and read the arguments about equity from some very ungracious educators on Twitter, I realized just how perfectly everything led up to us being prepared for this.  Not everyone has a one to one program, pedagogy training from a technology coach, a forward-thinking administration, supportive parents, a special ed department to meet the needs of struggling learners, a counselor who checks in on the more anxiety-prone, colleagues who provide encouragement and support, and kids who adapt.  We are truly blessed.


No one can predict what will happen in the coming days.  It does seem this is going to go on longer than the 2-3 weeks we originally planned for.  I am hoping and praying that we will have May with our students (not because of the academics but for the end of the year closure), but there is no way to know.  When I left the building for the foreseeable future, I said goodbye to a principal who was making back-up plans for a virtual graduation while still praying that we won't need those plans.  At GRACE, we have hope for the best, but we also plan for the worst.  Because of those forward-thinking planners, we were able to "snap" into action.

Student Insight

I need to write about something that is NOT the Coronavirus.  Take a breather, and let me tell you a story about my physics students.

In my honors physics class, we read the book The Pleasure of Finding Things Out, a collection of speeches and essays by renowned physicist (and somewhat cult-figure) Richard Feynman.  When we started doing this, I decided on two things.

1. I didn't want to ask them factual questions about the book.  Rather, I wanted them to reflect on how some of the book's themes play out in the 21st century. 
2. I wanted these conversations to be public, so we use Twitter chats to hold our discussions.  With Feynman being such a well-known figure, I hoped that people would stumble upon the discussion and join in.  That's only happened once so far.  Because the questions aren't just about science, some of my colleagues have joined in, responding sporadically to insights about ethics or learning.

Some of the discoveries I have made as a result of doing this were planned.  Others were accidental.  I knew that if I asked the right questions, I could get deep reflection and insight from my juniors and seniors.  Some examples

• I gave them the Oppenheimer quote ""I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." Then, I asked, "Do you think he was overly dramatic, or was this the correct response?" There were some who interpreted it from a very 2020 perspective, feeling like he was fishing for people to tell him he was wrong. Others said they would have felt the same way, knowing they had invented something so destructive. Others pointed out that Feynman and many of his colleagues entered deep depression after the bomb was used.
• There is a story in the book where Richard Feynman is sent to Chicago to gather information but is not allowed to talk about his Top Secret work and was instructed to lie. I asked, "When he was sent to Chicago, he was instructed to lie in order to get information from people. This atheist said his conscience bothered him. What do you think of that?" While I expected their answers to discuss the ethics of lying and whether it is every okay. (Rahab lied to protect the spies and is praised in Scripture.  Christians lied to Nazis about the Jews they were hiding in their basements.)  I didn't expect an answer that led to the philosophical question of whether we, as humans, have a universal sense of right and wrong.
• Our discussion on the pros and cons of nanotechnology is too long to write about here, but it was quite interesting.
• Last week, I asked "Feynman says, “The imagination of nature is far, far greater than the imagination of man.” He gives a gravity example. What is something in nature that you find astounding because you could not have imagined it?"  I got answers ranging from Yosemite's cliffs to Auroras to snow hanging from tree branches to sunrises. One said that he couldn't wrap his mind around the massive nature of outer space.  One student even said golf courses and clarified that while they were man-made, they "derive their richness from what is already there on the land."
• I also posted, "Feynman observes that a roaring ocean is made of tiny particles all following patterns. How has God made it so that individuals (whether atoms or people) cause a massive outcome no one of them could on their own?"  Answers ranged from blood cells to armies to the wind.  

I didn't expect these exact answers, but I did expect that, if I posed the right questions, I could get deep thought.  What I stumbled upon was that it is a way to make connections on a non-academic level.

• The boy who provided the answer about Yosemite talks about Yosemite a lot.  He's a rock climber, and once he visited Yosemite, it became his dream to climb El Capitan.  I've learned a lot about climbing from him, and, while I'll never climb a rock, I love national parks so we have a basis to share.
• In the first chat we have, I post, "When Feynman describes how molecules make a catastrophe called fire, he is so joyful. Is there any learning that makes you feel joyful like that?"  My intent was that they connect the rest of what Feynman has to say to something they like (because, let's face it, they don't all have a consuming passion for physics).  What I realized the first year while grading these was that I now had a list of my students' passions.  Since physics relates to absolutely everything, I make a list and try to connect practice problems or concept illustrations to the things they love.  This is, of course, easier if they are passionate about cars, golf, or exotic animals than it is if they are interested in politics or economics.

In the past few years, I have found much joy in asking my students open-ended questions, in which the point is less about getting a "right" answer than an interesting train of thought.  What I most love asking is "What's your favorite . . .?  Explain why."  It could be about their favorite thing they have learned in this chapter or what they think is the most interesting thing about the human ear or who their favorite scientist is.  The answers they give to those questions are longer, more interesting, more amusing, and filled with far more information than the answers they give to the standard "explain how this works" questions (I do still ask those when needed because it doesn't make sense to ask them what their favorite thing is about how boats float or what's the most important part of the breathing process).  I find it even more valuable to do this with middle school students because it stretches them past memorizing in a way that doesn't seem scary.  (What 8th grader doesn't want to talk about their favorite things?)

Teachers, I know it can't be every question on every assignment, but try to find ways to allow your students to show their insight, not just their learning.  Even if it is only one question per chapter test, you will find great joy in grading them. 

(And, if I can make just one Coronavirus reference, during these next few weeks when we are all teaching online, these are ways to assess learning at a distance in a way that isn't possible to cheat.)

More Girls in STEM?

I am a woman who has loved science for as long as I can remember.  I wanted to be, at various times, an astronaut, a vet, a pharmacist, a science textbook writer, and a physical therapist.  I am a middle and high school science teacher.  I want you to understand that I am a person who cares about the future of science before I say what will most surely be inflammatory.

As a woman in STEM, I am tired of hearing how we "need more girls in STEM."  Keep reading because I'm going to make an important point that you are likely to miss if you make an assumption that I'm a sexist, self-hating, pig from that one sentence.

When we want to make a point, we tend to cite statistics.  "After all, numbers don't lie," we tell ourselves, even though we know that numbers can be interpreted in a variety of ways to confirm our biases. (I learned that in a math class, by the way.)  So, on days like International Women's Day, we read how horrible it is that only 28% of the jobs in STEM fields are held by women or that only 20% of engineering students are girls.  I was one of three girls in my graduating class in the department of physics and engineering, so we've come a long way since 1998. 

We use these numbers to represent that girls are being discriminated against, but we are inconsistent.  No one seems to mind how we treat boys who want to go into fields traditionally held by women.  Only 9% of nurses are men, and no one bats an eye over it.  Only 23% of teachers are men, and if you narrow the scope to elementary school, that number drops to 11%.  I've seen men discouraged from pursuing those fields, even treated like they were unsavory for doing so.  When I worked in child care, there was exactly one male who worked there, and he didn't stay long because the parents looked at him like a pervert.  We don't bemoan their discrimination.  We don't care.  (I can tell that there are a lot of boys who would benefit from having a great male teacher in the fourth grade.) 

I'm not against helping a girl who wants a STEM career.  I'm against the idea that we have to push that because of the statistics. We have to be for a different criteria than filling a certain number of positions being filled by a certain kind of person. 

I'm for everyone being encouraged to follow their curiosity and pursue their interests.  EVERYONE.  If you are a girl who is into science, I will encourage you to go for it and help you find resources to aid that exploration.  But guess what?  I'll do the same thing for you if you are a boy.  If you are a boy who expresses interest in education, I'm going to connect you with role models and recommend programs that will help you, but I would also do that if you were a girl.  Here's the thing.  What you do as a career should be entirely about your aptitude and your interest and should have nothing to do with your gender.  God has gifted you and prepared you for what He wants you to do

When we push gender-related programs, like those that push "more girls in STEM," we automatically set up an attitude of discrimination.  We should be fostering the passions of EVERY student by knowing who they are and what they care about.  It is our job as teachers to help them find and develop the gifts God gave them, not fill some slot we think they should have.  Listen to your students.  If you have students who love art, help them connect with the best art colleges and careers.   If you have students who love math, help them connect with the best math colleges and careers.   If you have students who show an interest in cosmetology, connect them with the best school you can find. 

If you have a girl with a passion for STEM, of course, you should encourage her, but it should be about her passion, not her gender.  If we make it about their passions and their skills, we will get the right people in the right jobs, which will benefit society.  If we make it about reaching some gender-based quota, we will have miserable people in jobs they don't care about.  If you push a girl into STEM when what she wants to go into something else, you haven't helped her; you've pushed your agenda.

More Girls in STEM?  No.  The Right Girls in STEM.

Be Nice to Teachers in February

Today is March 1st.  Thank the Lord, we survived February.  For twenty-one Februaries, I have not been able to articulate what makes it the hardest month of the school calendar, but it is.  One would think that it would be December or May because of exams and holidays, but it isn't.  It's February.  If you have teacher friends in your life, ask them what February is like.  I call it February Fever.

 I can't explain it for everyone, but here's my best explanation for my own fever. 

I am in the heart of my curriculum.  It's not an introduction or a wrapping up.  Because of this, students are the most in need of help.  My eighth grade is just starting to experience that math is the language of science. 

I am either beginning or wrapping up a project in all of my classes.  For my 8th grade, they turn in their NASA essays on the Friday closest to Presidents' Day; my physics students begin their Free Choice Project presentations on the Tuesday after Presidents' Day.  Theoretically, that is supposed to mean I don't have to do lesson planning for physics while I am grading the NASA essays.  What it really means is that the day I finish the essays, I begin grading the physics projects.  It is also when I introduce Global Solutions in physics.  I imagine that this item is true for most teachers.  I went into the library on Thursday and found three teachers of Freshman with the media specialist hovering over an organizational chart, planning the Manor Faire.  The teacher next door to me has just collected the second draft of lab reports on plant growth, and his anatomy students finally finished cat dissection last week.  One of our English classes finish the Voices Around the World reading and gallery during February as well.  It's not that we all try to do these things at the same time.  It's because third quarter is the time when we have taught enough to start doing activities that require a lot of time and knowledge.

I am a yearbook teacher, and the deadline structure puts deadline 3 (always the hardest one to meet for some reason) in the second week of February and our final deadline during the second week of March.  That means most of February involves ad placements, tracking down new students who weren't here for picture day, making sure all the photos are tagged so we can meet our coverage goals, and having the pages with all the names and portraits proofed several times (and, still, we don't catch them all). 

Students seem to be suffering from their own version of February fever.  In North Carolina, this the time of the worst weather.  We get a tiny amount of snow, usually in February, and a ton of rain.  Even when it isn't raining, the sky is overcast for most of the month.  Winter sports are ending, and spring sports are about to begin.  Some colleges issue "early" acceptances (which you can pretty much read now as "regular" acceptance because I think more students do it at this time now), and that leads to several weeks of battling seniors feeling like they are done.

February also seems to be the season for Friday night activities.  Two Fridays in a row, I have attended fundraising dinners for both the camp and the school I work for.  This coming Friday is the school play. 

Please understand that I am not complaining about any of this.  I have the best job on the planet, and I want to do all of these things.  My point is this.  If you know a teacher, be especially nice to them in February.