Our Kids

Our Kids

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Being Passionately Curious



I saw this on Twitter this morning, and I can't stop thinking about it.  When I went searching for the post so that I could take this screenshot, I saw other examples of it-  but this image with the wings captures my thinking better than any of the other "inspirational picture quote" versions I came across.

I love the vibrancy of this image.  I love that interwoven into this vibrancy is a diverse set of images that span a large cross-section of interests and abilities, thoughtfully interwoven and layered to create movement and energy.  Possibility. 

I think I take issue with it just a little bit-  to me, being Passionately Curious is a special talent.  In fact, I believe the art of nurturing oneself, and others, toward being passionately curious is the most special talent of many educators.  It's what we do when we engage everyone in exploration and foster the sense of wonder the compels all of us to keep reflecting and learning even when the lesson is complete.

It's the bit of bird's nest that comes in after we've looked at habitats in science class.  It's the toppling, sticky-taped, toilet-roll-and-bent-straw ramp that shows up after we've talked about forces and gravity.  It's the outlandish-but-interesting connection that someone offers during lit circle that we keep talking about all week.  It's the Reggio Inspired primary program that has little ones building, creating, inventing.  It's inquiry, and maker-space, and innovation and problem-based learning. 

But it's not just for our kids.  It's for us, too.  It's finding ourselves in deep in the cupboard looking for solo cups or shimmering elastic thread because the perfect community building lesson dawned on us when we woke up at 3 in the morning still thinking about yesterday.
It's the gathering of 2-3 colleagues to plan a special activity, or outing, or buddy project because we're all excited about the same thing.  It's also the energy that builds after reflection on student work samples, or assessment data, and we begin moving forward as a school team in crafting an approach to help propel our leaners to the just-right next place.

I'm not the first person to be inspired by this notion.  A bit of a websearch around this idea landed me some pretty interesting websites to explore almost instantly-  check out the Passionately Curious Kindergarten, the work being done at UBC regarding Transformative Educational Leadership.  or even the goings-on at Science World.

It's such a fantastic time to be a BC Educator.  Embracing a competency-based approach with open-ended exploration is the very best way to be passionately curious students and adults.  Every day, I am blessed to wander throughout my building and hear the buzz of learners and teachers co-creating learning opportunities and exploring ideas together.  It's pretty special to be passionately curious as a community.  And it works. Our learners move forward together when we engage them in what they are curious about as individuals.  Good thing, because They're All Our Kids!


Sunday, September 9, 2018

Becoming a Focus School: Literacy Interventions for Intermediate-aged Readers



My school was given a tremendous gift this fall.  We’ve become a Focus School.  That means we have been given extra counselling and Child and Youth Care support, and a half-time Literacy Coordinator.   We have such an opportunity to make a significant difference for our kids-  the means to provide additional resources and support where it’s needed the most.
To prepare for the year, I decided to do a bit of a literature review to see what it said about intermediate readers.  I was looking for a launch-point, some information about the best way to target these supports-  even with all this extra help, I have a hunch that we’ll still feel stretched - being strategic and deliberate will be the key to making this work.

After combing through about 20 research studies and articles that have been published in the last 10 years, my hunch about being strategic and deliberate was actually the reassuring piece that fell out the bottom.   There are definitely some key strategies and understandings that have been shown to make a HUGE difference in student achievement outcomes.  Some things that, time and again, helped intermediate students become strong, confident readers. 

What I DIDN’T see was a big list of stuff I’ve never heard of. 

What I DID see was that the implementation of tools and strategies has a much greater effect when they are chosen super carefully, used in a targeted  way, and tracked carefully so that teachers knew whether or not they were working, and what adjustments need to be made along the way.  

That makes sense.  In his research regarding teacher efficacy, John Hattie has learned that the impact of “[teacher efficacy (d=1.57)] is more than two times bigger than that of feedback (d=0.72), and almost three times bigger than the effect of classroom management (d=0.52). The message seems to be clear: together teachers can achieve more, especially if they collectively believe that they can do so!”[i]

Working collaboratively to make thoughtful, strategic, deliberate decisions, based on what we know about our learners and their needs, is the most powerful thing we can do to help our kids have success.

So what are the underlying principles to keep in mind when planning support for intermediate struggling readers?

Overwhelmingly, the research focused on a several key things:

         1.        A foundation of differentiated, flexible classroom structures that provide an entry-point for all learners.  Shelley Moore has a whole bunch of info and templates on her site that are useful in this regard.[ii]   Deshler et. al encourage us to “consider differentiated instruction by examining the demands placed on students”(2007)[iii].  Are we giving them a starting place they can manage?  Have we provided tools and opportunities that allow them to work independently towards success?
      
      2.       Intervention that happens outside of the classroom needs to be IN ADDITION TO, not instead of, classroom literacy learning.  A number of studies showed that struggling readers are exposed to significantly less print than their more successful peers. They need to read MORE OFTEN, and have MORE PRACTICE to move ahead.  When the team decides that Tier 2 or 3 supports are needed, they need to be super strategically scheduled so students are still part of key literacy learning in the classroom.

      3.      Interventions can’t be one-size-fits-all.  Every “reading group” shouldn’t be structured the same way.   While there are a number of areas that are consistently explored in the research, it is equally clear that, by the intermediate grades, struggling readers need an intense, strategic, focus on the areas they find the most difficult.  If they are word-spotters who can’t comprehend what they read, help them understand it.  If they chew over every vowel sound and phonetic pattern, explore that. 


4.      Intermediate learners are super-sensitive to their peers, and their perceptions of where they fit in with their peer group.  We need to honor them and listen to them.  Insisting they participate in a type of intervention that they are not comfortable with will almost always backfire.  Instead of being invested in the learning, they’ll be fine-tuning their radar for what is going on in their environment, or will be pre-occupied with the activities back in their classrooms.  Bass describes this as the “Discursive Identity Impact.”  She explains that “research has shown that while struggling readers may appear unmotivated or uninterested, this may not always be the case.  Discursive identity theory aids in the understanding of the intrinsic perceptions and motivations that drive outward actions of a middle school readers….by understanding how struggling readers view text, perceive themselves, and want others to perceive them, teachers can more likely respond to students’ needs.”[iv]


What are the areas of focus that have proven to be the most effective?


In summarizing the studies, the part I was most excited about was how recursive this list was.  The same few areas of focus cropped up for classroom learning, small group work, and individual supports.  What changed was the intensity and frequency of them. 

Repeatedly, the research indicated that the most impact for struggling readers came from supporting classroom teachers in creating deep, supportive, literature-rich, classroom environments.  Any intervention should add layers to what was already in place-  an individualized focus on specific areas of difficulty, not something totally different altogether, or a replacement for the stuff that is “too hard” in the classroom.

The research also repeated a few themes in terms of instructional focus:
  • ·         Comprehension:  systematic and explicit instruction in flexible tools and metacognitive strategies to tackle print…strategic reading being key….
  • ·         Time with High Success texts:  free, voluntary reading with books kids like, paired with corrective feedback and opportunities for reflection (oral and written)
  • ·         Vocabulary knowledge:  making sure we build on prior knowledge and add layers before, during and after reading
  • ·         Fluency:  comfort and “flow” with the written word
  • ·         Working with words:  phoneme structures, syllabication, grammar (which is related to, but different from, a traditional spelling program)


I’ve plotted some of the more specific suggestions and strategies onto an RTI framework by way of a visual.


This is thoughtful, strategic work, for sure.  The good news, is that we’re charged with doing it together.  Beginning by making sure that classroom teachers have the tools and supports they need to effectively engage all readers in their classrooms will allow those of us in support roles to know when, how, and what, to add in support of our kids who struggle.

This is a super-optimistic bunch of research.  Over and over again, it confirms that we can make a significant difference for our kids.  There has been a lot of research done in the area of early intervention over the years.  What some of this research shows us is that significant gains can also be made by intermediate learners if we really get to know them and create lots of opportunity for them.  I can’t wait to see what this year brings.  After all, They’re All Our Kids!



[iii]Houghen (2015) “Evidence-Based Reading Instruction for Adolescents Grades 6-12,”  http://ceedar.education.ufl.edu/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/IC-13_FINAL_05-26-15.pdf
[iv] Bass (2015) “Reading Intervention Strategies for General Education Middle School Students: Providing a Space for Teachers to Share Effective Methods,” https://bit.ly/2O2X1EQ

If the visual is helpful to you, download it 






Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Gratitude for this Year's Lollipop Moments


The end of the school year always has me reflecting back on the year.  June craziness gives way to July appreciation.  As the dust settles, I remember all the things I love about being an educator, and take the time to savour the bits of the year that were extra special.

This year was a whopper.  After 20 years in my previous school district, I found myself in not just one, but two, new school communities.  Not only were my surroundings unfamiliar, but I quickly realized that the scale of things in a larger school district was very different from what I had experienced before.  New people, new systems, different resources, different expectations.  It took until January not to feel like I was driving to someone else’s school every day.

Now that I have time to reflect on what made the difference in the new year, I’m realizing I have some people to thank.  Some lollipops to give out.

I don’t know how many others out there are familiar with lollipop moments.  It’s a new idea for me.  I stumbled upon this great TED Talk while I was looking for something about Leadership for a group of grade 6 students that I worked with this year.


 

In his talk, Drew Dudley argues that lollipop moments are moments in life where “you have made someone’s life better by something that you said or that you did...” These are moments that resonate for us, as individuals, but the person who created them isn't even aware of what they've done for us.

He defines these moments as acts of everyday leadership, explaining that “we need to redefine leadership as being about lollipop moments, how many of them we create, how many of them we acknowledge, how many of them we pay forward, and how many of them we say thank you for.”

As I was wrapping up my time with students this year, I invited kids from a number of classes to make a lollipop for a special adult in our building.  Many knew exactly who they wanted to give them to.  An EA who “didn’t give up when I didn’t understand the math.”  A teacher who “let me be creative when we made puppets.”  A counselor who “helped me with my friends and finding people to hang out with at recess.”  These lollipops weren't created quickly.  I was astounded by the love, care and genuine appreciation that went into them.

Older students watched the clip with me.  It's less accessible for the little ones, so with them, I read Cara's Kindness, a great story about paying it forward.  The idea of giving someone a lollipop to say thank you wasn't hard to wrap our heads around after we thought about kindnesses that had been done for us over the course of the school year.

As educators, EAs, secretaries, principals, custodians, we are making a difference every day, whether we know it or not.  Our bulletin board had over 100 lollipops when we were done, and each one was different.  And I know with certainty that the adults receiving them didn’t already know how deeply the students felt about the things they had done for them, because I spoke to a few who were genuinely surprised, and touched, by some of the sentiments shared by the kids.

I wish I’d taken the time to speak directly to more of my colleagues before the year wrapped up.  the easy excuse is the fact that I was inordinately busy this June, even for someone who works in education-  I was at two schools, was packing to move to a third, had a kid turning 16, another graduating from high school, and both of them leaving for an overseas trip with their Scout group.

But that really wasn't it.  I didn't offer the lollipop thank yous personally because the thank-you’s were coming with good-byes for the second year in a row, and in all honesty, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I had lots of lollipop moments this year.  I was warmly welcomed by two school communities. I shared two different school offices with clerical and admin colleagues who always put kids first, even when they were making it really difficult for us to do so. I worked with dynamic educators who were creative, and energetic and positive.  I had the opportunity to learn alongside some beginning teachers who asked amazing, smart questions that pushed me to become a stronger educator.  I collaborated with a diverse team to bring a highly complex group of grade 12 students through to graduation, and shared a rich kindergarten/grade one classroom with a master teacher of infinite patience.  No one gets to do all of that in a single school year.  I was given a tremendous gift.  My lollipops are for the teams at Cedar Elementary and Secondary Schools. 
 
I highly recommend Dudley’s talk if you haven’t seen it.  Next year, I’m going to collect lollipop moments right from the beginning of the year.  And, I’m going to have a stash of lollipops in my desk to help me celebrate them.  I challenge everyone who reads this to do the same.  We should be celebrating and acknowledging the grown ups.  It's the work they do every day that makes such a profound difference for our learners.  We are all working together, because They're All Our Kids.







Sunday, May 27, 2018

My Journey Toward Reconciliation

I’ve been at a couple of gatherings recently where I was asked to reflect on my personal Journey toward Reconciliation.  This is a new question for me.  Up until recently, I think I had viewed it as Canada’s journey toward reconciliation.  Or as Education’s journey to inclusion.  Or perhaps as Educators’ journey to understand and embed First Peoples' Principles of Learning into our practice.  I was an interested observer.  



That’s not quite right.  I was more than an interested observer.  I have reflected on the findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.  It was important to me that our family visited the U'mista Cultural Centre in Alert Bay when we were in Port Hardy two summers ago.  We have had conversations about Residential Schools as a family, have learned about spirit totems and symbols, learned a bit about the Indigenous history of our area.  I spent several years on the Indigenous Education Advisory Committee for my previous school district, and felt I was part of
 the conversation regarding supports and opportunities for our learners.  I have invited Elders and other First Nations’ resource people into my classroom to lead discussions and activities.  I think I was moving from Awareness to Developing my understanding, I wanted to be doing supportive, respectful work with learners.  I had boarded the canoe.

Over the course of the past few months, I have been blessed with invitations to some rich conversations that have profoundly shifted my outlook.  I usually look at motivation and engagement through the lens of wanting to move from thoughts to action, but it has suddenly dawned on me that this is far from a linear progression.  (Thank you Linda and Judy.  I’ve had enough practice now that I don’t need to look for the Spirals anymore, they just seem to find me 🙂).

I recently explained to some colleagues that I am a “do-er”. I approach new learning by making to-do lists and looking for my action steps.  I’ve come to realize that’s only going to get me part way there.  Not that action steps are a bad thing.  It’s just super important to take the right ones.  I am aware that my personal journey toward reconciliation is going to take some more reflection and planning.

What led to this shift?

First, a conversation with colleagues where we all shared a bit about our own journeys.  I thought we would talk about what we had “done”. (I talked about my visit to Alert Bay).  We did.  But the part  of the conversation that stayed with me wasn’t the stories of what others had done specifically around reconciliation.  It was the part of the conversation where I learned a bit more about who my colleagues are,  about their personal journeys in life.  About understanding one another and our perspectives on a deeper level.

We were asked to introduce ourselves in a way that shared a bit about our heritage and our childhood.  I have heard Elders and others describe where they were from as part of a Welcome or Acknowledgement before.  I saw this as a way to learn a little bit about the person, but until we all did it as part of a larger conversation, I didn’t realize how profoundly this could help build community amongst those present, how it would build connection and link our stories.  At first, I wasn’t even sure what to say about myself.  My family is my family, but I’ve never  really deeply considered how my heritage has shaped me.  I don’t know much about my family prior to my Grandparents’ generation.  That history isn’t in Canada, and, for a number of reasons,  it’s pretty hard to track down.
The second conversation that shifted my thinking was a visit to the Stz'uminus Secondary School for sharing session.  I was invited by Anne Tenning, our District Principal of Aboriginal Education, to come and listen to community members share their thoughts and suggestions about things we could do at school to help their children be more successful.  One of the individuals who shared talked about how challenging it is for our First Nations students to walk in two worlds.  I have thought about this before, but the second part of her message landed in a different way.

  She went on to explain that the part schools often missed was that while there was sometimes an acknowledgement by the school that we ask a lot from our kids when we expect them to blend public school experiences with cultural traditions and expectations, but that it is not well understood that in doing this, we can also create a tension that is un-resolvable for many of our kids, because many teachers don’t really understand that , for our Indigenous learners, culture has to come first.  That the celebrations, or traditional practices in the community, take priority over school expectations.  It’s not that school isn’t important.  It’s that the other pieces are essential, and are deeply rooted in identity and community.  We need to respect and embrace this in a deep and authentic way for our learners to feel safe and successful in our classrooms.

In that moment, I realized that, although I was aware our students sometimes walk in two worlds, I had unconsciously made an assumption that my job was to help them figure out a way to walk more successfully in mine.  I drove home from that evening feeling excited about possibilities.  I can’t wait to connect with the community to learn more and to work with them to find ways to invite aspects of our local First Nations culture into our school.  Not in  an "add-on" or "special event" kind of way, but as part of the way we learn and grow together, every day.

Having said that, special events can be pretty special too.  Last Thursday evening, I was part of the Aboriginal Graduation for our school district.  I've been to similar events before.  But this was extra-special for me.  I have always enjoyed the performances by groups of students from the schools.  It's lovely to see children sharing something they've learned with an audience.  But Thursday, I was surrounded by community members who had come together to celebrate their children's accomplishments in a way I have not been part of in the past.  Adults and children drumming and dancing and celebrating together.  It was not a school district event where we invited the community in.  It was an event for and by the community that school district staff and other guests were welcomed into.  The dances were not simply performances.  They were authentic, organic celebrations.  I was surprised when one of my students, whom I've never seen in front of a crowd like that, sang with abandon and joy.  My heart was full.

I think I’m raising my paddle and beginning my journey into deeper waters.  I’m learning how to listen and to ask questions so that I can really understand and advocate for things that are designed not just to help our kids walk in two worlds,  but to make sure that more of their world is embraced as part of their school life.  

I’m confident this will support not only our Indigenous learners, but all of our learners.  We will all benefit from being better listeners and from learning to understand one another.  I now see that it’s not about listening so that I can create my own to-do list.  It’s about sincerely, deeply learning, and about finding ways to go on this journey together.  I am so excited to begin, because they are all our kids.




Sunday, April 22, 2018

Career Life Exploration

I've been thinking a lot about this transition-to-adulting business.  I have a son graduating from high-school this year, and he's really struggled to carve a pathway for himself, so I've been watching the evolution of the new high-school Career Education curriculum with interest.

Educators have always been invested in preparing kids for the future, but they've not always produced the results they hoped for.  Some of our kids have made the most of the opportunities available to them...they've explored work experience, gone to job fairs, done campus tours...they have amazing scholarship applications, resumes and cover letters, and know exactly where they're headed.

Other kids are more like my son.  They know how to "do high-school,"  but are pretty overwhelmed by the idea sifting through the possibilities that exist after graduation.  They collect pamphlets and course catalogs at University Fairs without talking to anyone.   They wait to apply for jobs, or scholarships, or schools, because they don't know how to make sense of their options.   As June 30 approaches, making decisions feels even higher-stakes, and it starts to feel safer to avoid making a decision at all, rather than making the wrong one.

This spring, I've been lucky enough to participate in a district conversation about Career Education at the same time I've been watching my son and his friends navigate their last semester of high school.  It's struck me that part of what's happened for a couple of them is that for them, career exploration has been a series of "moments," rather than a journey.  A cool visual resume in grade 9.  "Checking off" Planning 10.  Completing a Grad Transitions package in grade 12. 

(Below is my first go at a Sketchnote for public consumption.  Pardon the rustic drawing, but it captures my take on what the new curriculum for Career Life Exploration (gr. 10) is all about...)



I am super excited to be part of a conversation around building Career Education as a seamless continuum.  I love that this continuum will begin in grade 8 and keep building until graduation.  Students will have opportunities to explore their career pathway in a variety of environments-  embedded in other courses (for example, financial literacy in mathematics, resume and scholarship writing in English, person sexual health and social media literacy in physical education).  It'll never be "done."  They'll keep adding layers of understanding and experiences as they go.  Recursive reflection as they learn more about themselves and the world. 

As adults, we know that we didn't need to know everything we would do for the next 30 years on the day we graduated from high school.  We know that we can make a decision that's the right fit "for now,"  without committing to "forever,"  and that building our personal network and skills will help us create opportunities for ourselves down the road, even if we're not 100% sure which road we're taking.  We know the value of  balancing work and life, of being aware of global trends and our own talents and skills.

It's a gift that I am able to work with my colleagues to build opportunities for our students which will encourage them to do the same. 

My son now has a plan he's looking forward to.  After several months of wondering why he had to make a decision before the summer, and trying to find a way out of the Bachelor of Science his mother strong-armed him into applying for in February, he's been accepted into Culinary Arts at VIU.   He weighed his options, he's made a commitment to the next year that he's excited about.  He's trusting that this leap of faith will be a positive experience and will give him some skills that he can use in the future. 

I'm proud of him.  I'm excited for him.  But,  I can't help but think that this year of agonizing would have been a little bit easier, the options a little bit clearer, if he'd started thinking about them much earlier in his journey.  I know most people apply for Dual Credit programs with less than 12 hours to go on the application deadline.  But I also know he wasn't the only one of his friends completing the application the same day he was. 

We have students who have a clear goals and a plan to meet them much earlier.  They know they've "always" wanted to be an archaeologist, or a doctor, or a dancer.  But I would argue that isn't the case for everyone.  And I can't help but think that this new framework will most help those who need more support.   We have much to be optimistic and excited about.  I know I'm excited that I get to be a small part of it.  After all, They're All Our Kids.



Sunday, February 4, 2018

Belonging is the Beginning

Belonging is the beginning.  That's the opening phrase for our school's first goal this year.  It continues as follows:

Belonging is the beginning.  Our goal is to create structures,  ceremonies, and learning environments that will set the stage for a culture that is accepting of all students and meets them where they are in their learning journey.  

Earlier this year, I collected some photos of learners participating in various opportunities around the school, as examples of community, places where kids were engaging and could belong.  These are lovely pictures, and genuine examples, but they fall short of providing deep opportunities for EVERYONE to belong.   Kids join in if they choose, but if you look closely at the pictures, you'll notice that many of our learners don't appear in ANY of them.

Since I took those photos, the staff has really come together to consider deeper, more deliberate and focused, initiatives to help our kids who most need to belong find a place in our learning community.  While we're only at the beginning of this journey, I'm really excited about how things are going.

One of our PLC groups has decided to focus on ways to forge connections with a number of our students who are living on reserve, and who are not finding success with their learning.  While we see many of these kids every day, they are not attending their classes, are not participating in the clubs and events around the school, are not successfully moving toward graduation.  They are not finding their way to us, so we need to go to them.  As a staff, we're going to take one or two of these learners under our wings, encourage them.  Support them.  Meet with them at least once a week, and listen to them.  

We're also going to reach out to their community.  We would like to explore hosting parent-teacher conferences at the Band hall, to help families who are not able to get into the school get to know us and for us to get to know them.  We're going to work with our elder to offer opportunities at school that are culturally relevant for these learners.  The counselor for Aboriginal Youth Mental Health now holds weekly office hours in our building.

Our course calendar for next year will have some changes.  While pairing wood shop with math didn't quite pan out as we hoped, we're optimistic that pairing foods with math next year will give our students a way to learn practical numeracy skills at the same time they learn to create family meals and culturally-based recipes.  This is not an intervention for our vulnerable students, but a super-exciting opportunity to be part of a cohort that approaches learning a different way,  based in First Peoples' Principles of Learning.  Our big dream is that it's the start of a new way to approach learning in our building as a whole.

The Aboriginal Education teacher at our school has been working with a local artist, and some time in the next year or so, we will have a beautiful carving hanging over our stage and multi-purpose room.  He hopes to create Aboriginal Student Council at our school, to help our Indigenous students have a larger voice.  A member of this student council will sit on the executive of our broader Student Council, alongside the grade reps and representative from the Queer-Straight Alliance.

Our Learning Leaders team is also seeking ways to enhance connection and belonging for our students.  We've been reading Martin Brokenleg's book "Reclaiming Youth At Risk," and are excited to be implementing a school-wide focus on the Circle of Courage.  As part of our weekly recognition gathering, we'll give "shout-outs" to students demonstrating belonging, independence, gratitude and mastery, creating a large visual display to acknowledge their contributions.  We'll teach lessons in all of our Humanities and English classes exploring these areas, with belonging being our first quadrant.

The lessons are part of one other exciting piece.  Last week, I was lucky enough to participate in FNESC's session on the revised English First People's 10-12 curriculum. It was my first exposure to these courses.  They are literature-rich, built around First People's Principles of Learning, and arranged thematically.  It's as if the unit on Belonging was especially created just for us.  It arrived in my hands at the just the right time.  These lessons will provide a beautiful launch pad for our work with the Circle of Courage, and will hopefully inspire some of our students to sign up for the other English First People's courses being offered next year.  (The final draft of the guide will be available online by the end of April, 2018).

This is one of those rare magical times when everyone seems to be moving alongside one another in a common purpose.  We've taken some deliberate, focused steps together, and I truly believe it has grown from an intrinsic understanding that belonging really is the beginning. We didn't start from the notion that it was "time to work on goal #1."  We have a collective awareness that what we're doing isn't enough for some of our kids, and a deep desire to figure out how to change things.  It stems from the belief that EVERYONE deserves to have a place they feel successful and part of in our school.  I'm proud to be part of this team.  We understand that they're all our kids.