Tuesday, May 26, 2015

I Quit Teaching Mid-Year: Destination Unknown


I didn't start the year off thinking about quitting my job. 

The previous year had been my best year yet. I had great test scores the previous year and was given some leadership responsibilities within the school (a compliment and sign of trust). I completed my Masters degree in Reading, and felt great about all that I had taught my students. 

That year, I had one student say, "Thank you for teaching us so well. The end of year test was really easy because you prepared us so well." No lie. That came out of a 12 year old's mouth. I pinched myself! I began this year feeling excited, motivated, and ready to make this year even better!

The beginning of the school year is a simultaneously stressful and exhilarating time. New beginnings. New classes. Fresh starts for all. New bulletin boards and markers. Overflowing Pinterest boards of books you will read to your class and projects you will do. I had planned to have Genius Hour based on their own interests, as long as it helps someone or causes change. We watched the Ted Talk by Lisa Bu and had a fantastic discussion about our goals and dreams. We would call them passion projects and we would change the world

"I know where I'm heading as a teacher. My students are on board. They're passionate. We're excited. We're in this together."


After the lesson where we discussed our own goals and passions, we didn't have time to begin our passion projects. We needed to complete:
- benchmark testing
- unit 1 common formative assessments (pre-tests)
- individual reading conferences
- literature interest inventories and learning style inventories
- fundraiser collection for our end of year field trip
- fire drills, tornado drills, bomb threat drills, lockdown drills, pep rallies, picture days
- unit 1 lessons to set expectations for reader's workshop
- review of unit 1 expectations, because "Oh we didn't know that stuff was mandatory. We thought you just put it on the chart on the wall so we could look at it." true. story. 

The hours and days and weeks were filled up. Unit 1 came and went. I had to move onto Unit 2 so I could stay with catch up to my PLC (the other reading teachers). 

Unit 1 is important. 
All of the lessons I taught were important. 
The fire drills were important. 
Pre-assessments were important. 

It all truly is. However, any teacher will tell you that the problem with the job is that there is not enough time. 

I began to feel overwhelmed, but it comes with the territory. It's a bit exhilarating in itself to feel so important. To have so many people depending on you, then to satisfy their wishes. You work hard to be proactive. When things get a bit jumbled, you put out fires with a smile and good record-keeping. (That's always the plan anyway.)

When you don't have enough time to do everything, you prioritize right? Right. That's what we're told, too. However, most people in other careers prioritize, complete what they can, and catch up on what they didn't get to over the following days or weeks. That can't be done with teaching. 

Because it's all a priority and all time-sensitive. 

If it's not your top priority, it's someone else's.

If you don't complete the tasks necessary, you will get someone else in trouble or cause them more work. That is simply unprofessional.  

And teachers are well aware of the impossibility of it all. 

In the classroom, day in and day out, your priority is the students. 

You give a pre-test to see where they are. You observe, take notes, etc. If you don't pre-assess, you don't know where the kids are, and your lessons may be null and void. If you don't review procedures, kids and parents will have the valid argument that "You didn't say that that was an expectation. How were we to know?" 

You put the students first. You do what years of training and/or experience has prepared you to do. You are proactive and put out fires as needed. 

On top of a teacher's own documentation that a teacher uses for analyzing students' abilities, there are the school, district, and state required documentation: 
- taking attendance on time and accurately
- receipting money daily 
- collecting forms from students with parent signatures
- updating your website with homework, announcements, lesson materials, web links, rubrics, and study guides. 
- documenting behavior interventions on a google doc
- completing grade level spreadsheets to keep track of money students have raised for field trips
- creating, giving, and grading common formative assessments for each unit and analyzing the data with your PLC. Then, creating a plan to remediate or enrich students based on that data. Uploading all PLC decisions and information on a group website as documentation.
- completing a PDP (Professional Development Plan) with your personal goals for the year, and documenting your progress toward those goals throughout the year
- keeping grades updated on the online grade book at least once per week
- giving accurate modifications and accommodations according to students' IEPs or 504s

Then, there's teaching: 
- creating engaging, tech-filled, differentiated, goal oriented lessons - often a power-point or short video
- preparing materials - science labs, anchor charts, games, manipulatives, handouts (because textbooks don't exist and if they do, they are outdated.)
- posting daily objectives on the whiteboard
- making copies (this takes more time than one would think because copiers are of the devil.)
- catching up students that were absent and giving/collecting make-up work
- grading papers and analyzing the information (Do I need to reteach anything? Did I not teach something well enough if most students missed a question? How do I balance the points taken off for each item? Are they prepared for the next unit?)


I have many coping strategies to deal with the day to day stress. My favorite of which is to listen to my Jack Johnson Pandora station during planning time and work with the lights out. Introverts need time to recuperate from so much socializing and chaos. It was enough to recharge me to get through the day. Then there were the weeks where I had no breaks - PLC, parent conferences, staff meetings, grade level meetings, etc. filled up that time. (For the record, I'm not complaining about those things… Again, they're important, but they take away from planning time and recharging time. That work is taken home, and teachers are left with no time to recharge. Burnout ensues.)

Overwhelmed is a feeling I'm used to. I can do overwhelmed. Take a deep breathe. Have dinner with a good friend. Refocus your priorities. Remind yourself you can't be perfect. Remind others you can't do everything. Apologize to your children and spouse for the millionth time. Lean on coworkers for support, understanding, venting, and laughter between class periods. 

Feeling overwhelmed turned into anxiety, which turned into apathy when I realized I couldn't possibly keep up or do everything that was expected of me. Apathy turned into depression.

The "Back to School" rush was followed by 2 months of severe depression. It's something I've suffered with for a few years, beginning with postpartum "baby blues." My kids are toddlers now, and it comes and goes in waves. Huge changes can sort of shake me into a state of panic, feeling completely incapable of success, and then depressed when I can't dig myself out of it. 

The irony? I enjoy change. This year, however, transitioning from a summer mommy back to a teacher of 120 students shook me into quite a state of depression that rocked me to my core. Worse than anything I've ever dealt with. I told a few close friends at work about it. I'm a firm believer that if you are depressed, you need a support network. Those around you that will be honest with you and will also have your back. I've been fortunate enough to work with some wonderful friends that will do both for me. 

If you've never suffered depression, it's not dramatic. I consider it static. You are a robot. Going through the motions. You feel so much sadness, you are in physical pain. You can't cry, most of the time. It's not a problem/solution scenario, where you can have a light at the end of the tunnel - you run out of solutions. You are simply in the dark tunnel. Alone. You can go about your daily life. You can even laugh, joke, and have conversations, but you are still in that dark tunnel. 

Depression is diluted by normalcy - routine. You think, "Ok, if I just keep doing my thing, stay in my routine, this will get better. This is a season." It is always true. Some seasons are longer than others. Some "seasons" in life cause you to see your world differently when you get to the other side. 

I started thinking,  "I love my school. I love what's happening in my classroom, but the harder I work, the more resistance I receive. The direction we are headed in this classroom is being derailed by the requirements of the institution of school. Am I able to teach in an institution where I have to daily bend my principles?" 

I did not quit teaching because I was depressed. It was surviving the depression that opened my eyes to the idea that I didn't have to stay in this place. 

I didn't quit because I was overwhelmed. I've worked 2-3 jobs since I was 16. I like staying busy. With over 7 years of classroom experience, I had experience juggling.

I didn't quit because I couldn't be perfect. I have no delusions of being able to accomplish everything to others' satisfaction. 

I did not quit because I was angry. Were there situations over the years that were hurtful? That caused me to question why I put myself through this on a day to day basis? Yes, but I didn't walk out in a huff. 

It's like learning a dark secret about your best friend. Once you learn that secret, you can never look at them the same again. I had learned that teaching was not the friend I thought it was. That it would not get better over time, that I would never be able to feel satisfied. I spent years honing my craft. I had researched and analyzed and discussed solutions to every issue within the educational system imaginable. I awoke to the truth that one person, one school, even one state cannot make a difference in the way that our country needs. I lost hope. And until I could figure out how to navigate surviving in the pressure-cooker of teaching in public schools, I needed to do something else. 

The epiphany: I could be a teacher without have to be in a classroom. Whoa. This is not mind-blowing to most, but believe me, this was the epiphany of all epiphanies for me. I've always seen myself as a classroom teacher.  

I realized I could tutor. I could homeschool my own kids. I could substitute teach. I could work at a daycare. This isn't really a list of things that makes me beam with joy - these are terrifying scenarios  The thing is, I love teaching. I loved my classroom. I loved my students. I loved the exhilaration from collaborating with certain coworkers. I never felt more passionate and alive as when I was in the middle of a discussion about the theme of Wizard of Oz and kids were analyzing the symbolism of the red shoes without me forcing them to. It's my purpose. It's part of my identity. 

I was looking down the barrel of 23 more years of potentially being depressed for the first 2 months of the school year, being impossibly exhausted and frustrated, and being told by the system that it's still not enough. I was paying more than 1/2 of my paycheck to be away from my 2 kids.

My post-depression, pre-epiphany, fuzzy math:

2/10 months of each school year potentially depressed = 20% of the school year

30 years to receive retirement benefits - 7 years of teaching = 23 more until retirement

23 years x 20% potentially depressed = 4.6 years of my life

…that doesn't include the years of my life I'd waste in meetings. 

64% of my income paying for daycare, so I can spend time away from my own kids. 

6 out of 7 years of my teaching career was spent with no raise = 86% of it being paid as a first year teacher with more job requirements each year

This year, I received a10% raise for earning my Masters degree + FINALLY got a raise from the state of 16% = total 26% raise  (Not all teachers received a raise this big. It was based on experience, and I happened to be in the group that received the largest bump.) 

So if I received a huge raise, why would I quit? Because my mental and physical health was not worth the raise I'd received. 

Maybe my goals were too high at the beginning of the year. There was nowhere to go but down.

Maybe I should have stayed in the previous grade level and taught the lessons I had taught the previous year. 

Maybe I should have not read all of that educational research and watched the videos of forums on current issues in local education. 

Maybe I should not have tried to create innovative lessons; just ask the other teachers what they do and mimic them. 

Who am I kidding? I wouldn't have been happy copying others. I wouldn't have been happy without seeking more knowledge and understanding the institution which I was supporting with full devotion. I wouldn't have been happy without being innovative, and the students would have felt my boredom. (I've never been good at faking interest.)

I gave my notice in October and worked through Thanksgiving. I knew it was the right decision and have not regretted it once since. 

Have I had any "Whoa. Did I really do that?" moments? Definitely. 
Has it been easy? Not at all. 
Do I miss my students and coworkers? Every. minute. 

That's when you know it's the right decision. It would have been "easy" to stay and fake it…collect a paycheck and keep my mouth shut. "Fake it till you make it," is a frequent mantra with teachers. For me, it was now or never. 

I felt like I had the opportunity to choose the path for the rest of my life and trust in the unknown. 

I am not bitter. I am not angry. I am not disappointed. I am at peace. 

I know I am where God wants me and in the right place for myself and my family, as difficult and uncertain as it is. I chose to trust that God had taken me through this journey for a reason, and HE would take me through the next chapter. 


I know that the 8 years of teaching prepared me for this exact moment in my life. Although, I still feel unprepared for the daily task of taking care of a 2 and 4 year old. I know that I would have been unable to appreciate the nuances of daily life with them without having experienced the trials and joy that teaching gave me. 




Living with anxiety: Destination Self-Preservation

Self-preservation.
I seem to whisper this phrase to myself often lately. I’m reminding myself it’s okay to do. Maybe I’m justifying my selfish behavior. Nonetheless, it’s necessary for staying away from the pitfall of panic.
I constantly feel like I’m dipping a toe in the water, only to pull it out and say, “No, too hot. Need to wait a bit.” or “No, too cold, need to add a bit of warmer water to make this bearable.”
I suffer from anxiety and depression. The anxiety showed up after college, when I began teaching full-time and attempting to live up the lofty expectations of others and myself. Their dialogue became my inner dialogue.
Do you not want to be a Master teacher? Are you engaging them as much as you can? Do you feel that you could improve? Your team depends on you. The students and their parents depend on you. 
I remember having a panic attack in the elevator at school on the way to a staff meeting. A friend took my pulse and said it was high, “but not enough to have a heart attack or anything.” Whew! haha. Doctors brushed me off. Told me to “carry around a brown paper bag to breathe into when I felt a panic attack coming.”
When you don’t know what questions to ask, you suffer in silence. They assumed I just wanted medicine. I just wanted help. 
It’s my fault. I chose this career. I have to deal with my insecurities. I just need to be more confident. It will get better. 
After my daughter was born, 3 years after I began teaching, I barely finished the phrase “I feel overwhelmed” and I had a prescription in my hand for an anxiety and depression medicine.
I had never suffered from depression, only anxiety, but I assumed it didn’t matter when I began my medicine. It did.
I had my first bout of depression after my second child was born in 2012. Since then, it’s been an undulating wave of more and more frequent bouts of depression. At first, it was every few months. It was obvious that I couldn’t skip a dose or I’d feel a bit blue. Once, I tried to quit cold turkey (simply out of laziness because I forgot to refill my Rx). I told a coworker and friend, if I ever talk about quitting, smack me. This past 6 months has been a constant influx of depression.
After 2 babies and 8 years of teaching, it was no better. I quit teaching mid-year, about 6 months ago. I was so excited for school to begin, but then I spent the first month of the school year depressed. I loved teaching more than I ever had before and felt completely confident in my abilities and choices, but felt more depressed that I ever had. I knew the change of starting school, new schedules, chaos, had triggered it. I knew it was a wave and it would eventually subside. It did. But, I came out on the other side with clarity.
I can’t spend the next 23 years of my life (until retirement), depressed. This career will never get better. I will begin the school year with high hopes of changing lives and strong beliefs about how children should be educated, then the reality of beurocracy will smash those dreams into oblivion. Every year. 23 times over. 
I had two choices.
1) Lower my standards for what I expected my students to do.
2) Let go of teaching.
In most cases, quitting a job shows lack of commitment. Running away from a problem instead of solving it. In my case, I knew it was the right thing. 
A dear friend and coworker said, “Jenn, you know if you were doing the wrong thing, I would tell you. You’re not. I will miss you, but this is what you need to do.” I constantly whispered to myself…
Self-preservation.
My official reason was to stay home with my children. My unofficial reason, and what I told my administrative team, was that I was putting everything I had into this job that I love so deeply, but had nothing left for my family when I got home.
It’s been 6 months of struggle since I quit, but I still know it was the right decision. I’ve had guilt over taking my children out of an awesome daycare because I  needed to quit my job. Guilt over leaving my students mid-year. Guilt over putting pressure on my husband to provide for us. I remind myself they all deserved better from me. Better than the depressed mom, wife, and teacher who was venturing into apathy. A robot going through the motions with no concern. When I stopped caring… that’s what scared me.
As I type, my children are playing downstairs with some toys. I played with them this morning until I got overwhelmed with the noise.
self-preservation.
In those moments of anxiety, I picture the monster I’d become if I let me frustration get to me. Or if I gave into the expectation of a mother playing with her children all day, with no technology. Going to the park or library each day. I just can’t. It’s too much.
I’ve learned above all else, over the last 6 months staying home with my kids, that if I don’t pay attention to my mind and body, I will not be able to nurture them. I am often not mentally or physically able to live up to the American ideals of what a stay-at-home-mother should be. But I am confident that…
Through self-play, they learn imagination.Through sibling time, they learn cooperation.
Through my lack of intervention in every squabble, they learn problem-solving.
Through my lack of hovering, they learn to appreciate independence.
When I don’t rush them, they learn patience and perserverance.
When I preserve my energy, the time we spend together is quality.
When I have time to reflect, I make better choices as a mom.
I’ve learned to turn my guilt into trust in God’s plan. I’ve learned that anxiety is real, but can be manipulated into good by making choices of self-preservation. I”ve learned that social norms and others’ expectations are not always right. I’ve learned to treat depression as a chemical deamon that can be faught off with healthy choices and, for now, medicine. I’ve learned that my weaknesses are strengths in God’s eyes. There is a purpose for it all.
There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven–
A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.
What profit is there to the worker from that in which he toils?  I have seen the task which God has given the sons of men with which to occupy themselves.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-10
Some see these verses as permission to judge, kill, or hate. It’s not. The world is full of sin, and our free-will is a part of that sin. Sometimes we choose sin. Sometimes we don’t. These verses sum up our humanity. That there will be times of death, destruction, pain, hatred, sickness, and sadness. But on the other side of that is beauty. Heaven. Healing. Love. Communities rebuilding a city. Families coming together. Friends offering a kind word. Strangers choosing peace.
God doesn’t make bad things happen, but he sees the big picture and has a plan for our lives beyond anything we can imagine. 
Our daily lives are full of choices. Don’t let the pressure of the world’s expectations keep you from being your best self. Don’t believe in the hype of perfection. It’s a rouse. Sometimes we have to make choices that seem selfish, but will make us better in the end. Sometimes we have to choose self-preservation. 

Thursday, February 12, 2015

When your past pains turn up: Destination Peace


My mom, sister, and I were going to a Steven Curtis Chapman concert at an outdoor concert venue in Raleigh. We walked through the gates into an open courtyard before heading up the stairs to the grassy hill, where we'd watch the concert. I saw a tent with some dancers, probably 10 year-olds. They made me smile. 

I was a ballet dancer from age 3 through college. I had just moved to a new city to attend a university there, after deciding to move away from Raleigh and the private university I'd been attending. I need a change of scenery, and a cheaper university if I was to be a teacher. I was visiting home for the weekend, as I did often.

Standing outside of the tent, I saw her - my former ballet teacher. I burst into tears. I don't know where it came from. We quickly walked to the restrooms to get out of the crowd. I remember my mom saying, "I didn't know it affected you that much." I didn't know it affected me that much either.

She was referring to the strange relationship I had with my former dance teacher. Complicated. I danced in her company for 4 years. I respected her as a ballet teacher, as I'd been taught to do since I was a tot. I was not late. I did not argue - or even speak that often. I was not lazy in class. I studied every movement and used the mirrors to perfect each step. I attended all classes, rehearsals, and recitals, missing such events as Homecoming games and other school functions (of which I really had no interest anyway). I enjoyed performing with the dance company all over Raleigh. MY parents spent tons of money on point shoes and the required leotards and make-up. My mom drove me an hour from our home, one-way, a few times a week to dance classes until I got my own license. My teacher performed also, so we danced side by side. The dancers often had Bible studies together and sometimes even went on retreats together to bond. After a year or so of dancing in the company, I began to teach class in exchange for my tuition. They were some of the best years of my life. And some of the most trying.

After ballet class one spring day, I asked her if we could talk. I was shaking. "I feel like I needed to leave the company." I don't remember what else I said, probably not much. She was angry. "You signed a contract. You can't quit." I was at a loss for words. I hadn't prepared for the possibility that she would say no. I said "ok" and slumped out of the studio to my car, stunned and embarrassed. I came back to the studio the next day to teach my ballet class to 7 year olds. Her mother, who managed the office, told me that they would allow me to quit since they knew I'd made up my mind. They didn't want to force me to stay if it wasn't what I wanted. I taught my class, and left. I remembered smiling when I got to my car, feeling relieved. 

A few months earlier, I had been late to class for the first time in 4 years. It was probably the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. My first semester was ending after my freshman year of college. Winter break was beginning and I had to have my dorm inspected after making sure the blinds were down, outlets were empty, fridge was cleared out, etc. The inspector was late, and knowing myself, I probably waited until the last minute to get my bags packed and make the 20 minute trek to my car. I walked into class 15-20 minutes late. She said "there was no excuse" for being late when I knew we had rehearsal. I was chastised in front of the other dancers and we continued our barre exercises. I remember crying during barre, feeling as if I'd let everyone down. It was her birthday. After our 3 hour class, we took a group photo with party hats, noisemakers, and her mom bought her roses. I still have the photo. My eyes are splotchy from crying. But I smiled, ever obedient. We never spoke of it again.

The thing is, when deflating situations are intermixed with bonding and connection through a common passion, prayer, and genuine friendship, you don't always know how deeply you've been hurt until the relationship is over. You look back, add it up, and think, "How did I not see it?" 

Truth be told, I gained so much wisdom in those years. I learned about myself. I learned the consequences of my silence. I learned perseverance through an art form that completely ignores girls who aren't flat-chested and weigh a ghastly 145 pounds. I would have surely quit a traditional ballet studio because the only option for continuation was to become a professional, and I was not in the running, so I assumed. Through dancing for a Christian dance company, I was able to explore dance as an expression of worship. It gave me discipline, but also purpose. It turned dance into a vain obsession with body image and discipline into an avenue for artistry and personal expression. 

Looking back, I now know that it took time and thoughtful reflection to pull out the beauty from the ashes. It is only now, over 10 years after leaving Raleigh and that dance company, that I have positive feelings about those years. Not always intentional or strategic, I continue to go through these same steps any time I'm hurt and need to heal:

1) Distance yourself from the pain - I don't necessarily mean, move to another town; however, that's what I needed for more than one reason. Sometimes it means quitting a job. Sometimes it means having a difficult conversation with someone to let them know you need some space. If someone has hurt you, overanalyzing the heck out of the situation comes naturally for most. It can all send you into a downward spiral of bitterness.
...replaying conversations in your head
...considering all of the would'ves and should'ves
...blaming yourself or blaming others
Don't. Go. There. As my good friend Elsa says, "Let it go."

Example: For years after I quit dancing, it was too painful to even see a ballerina or look at my old mementos. I boxed my dance clothes, shoes, figurines  and pictures and put them out of sight. 

2) Expose yourself to the pain - After some time has passed, take out that box and dust it off. I think a psychologist would call this Exposure Therapy. Oh you're afraid of spiders? Here hold this spider. There is something to be said for it. Stay with me. Completely blocking something out of your life will cause negative feelings (bitterness or anxiety) whenever you are faced with that thing. 

Let's say you fell off of a bike as a kid and had a horrible accident. You decided never to ride a bike again. Even as an adult, years later, the sight of a bike would make you shake with fear. The negative feelings are multiplied as more time goes by and your fears become phobias. Take it slow, though. Go buy a bike and put it in your garage. Then, move it into the driveway where you see it every day. Eventually, sit on it. Maybe ride down a small hill without pedaling, until you feel comfortable enough to ride the bike again. 

Exposure Therapy needs balance. Put your toe in the water; don't jump in. If I am lonely or sad, I don't choose to watch "Steel Magnolias" or "Beaches," as much as I love those moves. I will have to call my husband to scrape me off of the floor because I will be a puddle of feels. I call it my "emotional diet" - the goal is to stay well-balanced. Think about the past as much as your heart and mind will allow. If it's too upsetting, set it aside and walk away. Return to it another day. 

Example: After I moved to a new town, I signed up for some ballet classes at my new university. It ended up that I was able to use them as "art" credits for my teaching degree, but I would have taken them even with no credit. I was paying tuition anyway, so why not? I was able to dance and reclaim ballet as mine, instead of part of my past pain. I created new memories. It kept the bitterness away. 

3) Forgive others - Forgive the people who hurt you. Look at their "big picture" and realize that their actions most likely were not personal. "Hurt people hurt people," am I right? Understanding that I am not the center of another person's universe has helped me in many situations where I needed to find a way to forgive. 

4) Forgive yourself - This one has come with age, because I've always been the first to beat myself up. I let go of my mistakes. I let go of the words unspoken. I let go of the times when I let myself get hurt because I was too chicken to speak up. I let go of the times I messed up. Sure, things could have been different if I'd made different decisions, but accepting what has happened as your personal journey of discovery will help you accept and respect your journey. There was a purpose for every step, good or bad. 

5) Create new joys to replace the past pains - I now love taking my daughter to ballet class and watch her mistakes and successes with joy. Once they begin offering adult classes, I will enroll in my own class, even though I'll probably be winded after 5 minutes. I love watching professional ballet videos on youtube and have a million articles about ballerinas scroll through my newsfeed on Facebook every day. I follow a famous ballet photographer on FB and find joy in seeing the dancers, something I wasn't able to completely do as a younger dancer. "So You Think You Can Dance" anyone? I couldn't watch it until about 3 years ago. Now, I don't miss an episode. 

What NOT to do:
Exposing yourself to your past pains does not mean tracking down every ex-boyfriend and going to a counseling session. You may come across a bit unstable. ;) It's not always necessary to confront a person who hurt you. Sometimes, it's needed. Sometimes, it's not. You decide. In my opinion, if both parties are stuck and can't move on, they may need to revisit the past together. If the other party has moved on, and you are stuck, figure out a way to move on too. If they aren't giving a second thought about you, why should you spend so much time and energy worrying about them? 

Full disclosure: I googled my former dance teacher about a year ago. I felt a TINY part of myself hoping I'd find her overweight, miserable, unemployed, and ruining others lives as she'd ruined mine. Dramatic right? (Don't go down the google rabbit hole. It's not a good kind of exposure therapy.) What I found were her wedding photos from a photographers website. She'd met her new husband after moving to a new state and worked at a church in charge of a dance program. How did I feel? Neutral. Detached. I hoped she was happy, but in a "seeing a stranger getting married on the beach" kind of way. I had no investment. I had withdrawn my emotions from our relationship, and it felt good. 


Learn and Grow:
I think we all want to break the cycle and try to avoid hurting those we love as we have been hurt. Right? I can avoid most of the overt pains she caused - chastising people in front of others, using a position of power to manipulate, being insensitive about someone's religious background, etc. It's the more subtle pains that we tend to repeat. 

  • She used silent treatment to avoid talking about the real issues. (Totally my nature, because elaboration is only my strength after I've had 10 years to analyze something.) 
  • Although she shared quite a bit about her own personal life, she did not ask about mine. This caused her to misjudge and criticize me for things she did not understand. (How many times to I judge others actions and assume I know their motivation, but don't take the time to really ask how they're really doing?)
  • She was not honest about how she was feeling and did not apologize when she was wrong. (So easy to do, especially as a teacher and parent.) 

Above all, remember that life is a journey. God has placed you on your yellow brick road with joys and disappointments that fulfill a larger purpose than you will ever understand. We may feel our life is insignificant, that a complicated relationship doesn't mean anything compared to the trials some people face in this world; but we are significant. Every step is significant. And how we choose to respond, now or later, in the face of trials is what keeps joy and love in the world. 

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Generations X and Y: Destination Harmony



UN-COACHABLE KIDS - Who's to blame?
Bridging the Generational Gaps between the way things were and today


This quote caught my attention on Facebook:

"Un-coachable kids become unemployable adults, let your kids get used to someone being tough on them. It's life, get over it."  - Patrick Murphy

It's supposedly by Alabama's softball coach. I haven't been able to confirm the origin, so I'm taking google's word on it. :) 

It got me thinking, is it the kids' faults? The parents' faults? Believe me, if you need a "I'm a terrible parent" pitty-party, I beat you every time. I'm over beating myself up, or other parents. We do our best, right? So, let's get to the root of it...

Let's get to the root of how the previous generation of kids did everything a coach said, while parents sat quietly cheering on the bleachers, and we now have little leaguers in therapy and parents getting kicked out of games for beating up coaches. How did we get here?

NERDS UNITE
A few days ago, I participated in a vertical alignment conversation in which we discussed bridging the gap between K-12 education and Community Colleges/Universities. There were about 10 professors and 5 high school teachers, and me - representing Middle School. We all observed a classroom outside of our school in order to analyze students' skills. Let me be the first to say, there are some great things going on in our NC schools! We saw trends based on our snapshot observations that showed student analysis and problem solving is alive and well in our classrooms.

THE REALITY
Student failures and drop-outs from colleges and universities are increasing, leading to more student debt and fewer skilled workers to boost the economy. We know business leaders are saying that the work force is ill-prepared, lacking vital problem solving skills and communication skills.

As a "Millennial" and self-proclaimed, 'socially awkward,' walking stereotype, I can vouch for this. However, I was able to complete my 4 year degree in 4.5 years, complete a Master's degree while parenting 2 toddlers, and become a successful career woman.

Oh did I forget to mention my debilitating panic attacks my first 5 years of teaching? And that I was diagnosed with anxiety and adult ADHD while finishing my final semester of graduate school? And that I've let my children have ice cream for dinner regularly? My bad. 

What's different between me and the rest of the "Millennials" who are finding it difficult to get out of bed, move out of mom's basement, find a job other than Starbucks, or finish that degree that's been a work-in-progress for 7 years? Not much, other than that invisible "drive" to do what society expects of me - get a job, do it well, raise a family, retire and stay healthy.

MEET PROFESSOR CURMUDGEON
I was born in the mid-80s, as generation X was ending and generation Y was beginning. I was still able to commiserate with the professor to my left at the alignment meeting. You know him - white beard, well groomed, tweed blazer, sweater vest, dress shoes that are comfortable enough to walk across campus, briefcase with yellow legal pads. Docta Jones! We both agreed that "when we were in school, we did our work and there was no excuse! We just did it."

As I began to discuss "engaging and motivating learners" and "making learning relevant to their end goal," Professor Curmudgeon  grumbled, "What's the deal with all of this relevance stuff? Why do they have to have a reason to learn it? You just have to learn it to get the degree!" I explained that from my perspective, I, too, had questioned "Why am I learning this?" but I was the last of the generation that kept quiet about it. Generation Y-ers aren't quiet about letting you know if your lesson is boring or they didn't do their homework because they didn't feel like it. true story.

Let me give you two scenarios...

GENERATION X - Does well in school. Goes to college. Gets first job he interviews for. Marries at age 20, has 2.5 children and owns a house by 25. Lives in same house until mortgage is paid off. Works at Job for 25 years. Retires and collects pension and social security. Grumbles about "kids these days who don't know the meaning of hard work."

GENERATION Y (a.k.a. Millennials) - Struggles through school. Parents, teachers, counselors, tutors, intervene daily for 13 years to ensure she does well. She spends 6 years trying to pass her classes to finish her degree in Marketing. Can't find a job in Marketing. Continues to work her part-time job as her, now, full-time job. Can't afford to live on her own because of student loan debt. She'll move out of mom and dad's when that "real" job comes along. Marries at age 35. Doesn't have any children. Moves from city to city with her husband, working various temp jobs. Works until age 70, because she has little retirement money and, honestly, doesn't know who she is without working. And Social Security benefits aren't enough to live on, so most work until they can't.

The stereotypical "lazy, living-in-mom's-basement, can't-get-a-job" story is a bit different with some more perspective, huh? I'm not saying those situations don't exist in Gen-Y, but it's more often the case that the expectations placed upon us don't align with what's available or what our heart desires. Being happy in a job at Starbucks is frowned upon in our society, but makes many many people incredibly happy and fulfilled, as long as they are treated well by their boss and paid adequately. Hmm, isn't that what we all want out of a job? So we force this idea of college/university on students as the only avenue toward success and fulfillment, yet it is not fulfilling many of them. It is 4 more years of perceived "failure."


Why the huge shift in our society? Generation X-ers are the majority heading our companies and representing our government. They are in charge. Generation Y are most often, because of age and less experience, the worker bees...
                 …the more outspoken worker bees
                 …the eccentric, creative worker bees
                 …the worker bees that crave encouragement and validation
                 …the worker bees that crave a say in decision-making
                 …the future CEOs, Presidents, Principals, and leaders

Generation X + Generation Y = conflicting views on how our piece of the planet should be managed

ahhhhhhh….


RECOMMENDATIONS FOR SCHOOLS:

At the end of our meeting, we were able to talk in groups and write down some recommendations that would be sent to policy makers in order to change this trend of ill-prepared college freshmen leading to remediation and drop-outs.

Here were my recommendations:
1) Get rid of grades. Change all grades to standards-based grading, or rubric grading, so the focus is on the skills NOT the effort. It is human nature to do just enough to get by. That will never change. We are survivalists. What must change is how students view "failure."
2) Move toward Job Tracks. This happens in Finland and some other countries, although it would need to be tweaked for our society's needs. Regardless, the main idea is that we view a college degree as the ultimate success and dump truck driver or barista as the ultimate failure. NO! What has every civilization relied upon? Skilled workers, thinkers, business people, religious counselors, etc. There are many paths to "success" - people want to find happiness in a job, in addition to enough money to live that life. Fallen civilizations had too many conductors, not enough musicians.


RECOMMENDATIONS FOR TEACHERS:

We want students to do their work? Give it relevance. It may sound hippy-dippy, but it is incredibly important to our generation. They will invest if they see that it will affect their success as an adult. Even my 6th graders are not too young to honestly consider that it would be embarrassing to "send an email to your boss without proper capitalization." They understand that if you don't pay your power bill, you won't have electricity. This is difficult, but the consistent reminders of relevant consequences will eventually stick and make a difference.

We want our college freshmen to write a 5 paragraph essay or read 50 textbook pages by next Tuesday? We scaffold for 13 years, but rarely require full independence. We must shift our scaffolding practices to support skills only, not behaviors. The most important part of the scaffolding model, is the gradual release of responsibility. Our education system does not let students fail, so we don't even get to the "release" part, therefore, students are not responsible in college. They are not independent thinkers. Teaching students to self-analyze work with a rubric and peer-edit, is doing amazing things for those students who continue to college. What do we do when we have a question as an adult? Ask google. Ask a friend for help! Let that process happen, so that students become independent and less reliant on each other - therefore, more efficient workers, coming up with solutions independently in order to complete the task quicker.


That's great for educators, and it may or may not happen in my lifetime, but what can we do as parents?


RECOMMENDATIONS FOR PARENTS:

We must show our children that we are not perfect. What do we dislike about politicians? They lie. They aren't willing to lose their ego and admit something isn't working. "We're going to ride this train to the end, even if it crashes." Let's quit lying to ourselves. What we are doing isn't working.

We want our future business leaders to be honest? When you make a mistake, admit it and fix it. Model how to go through that process with your children or students. Go through pros and cons decision-making processes. Discuss effects of your own actions, positive and negative. Predict possible causes and effects that could occur.

What does every mom and dad want for their children? Health and happiness. Ask your child from age 4 to 40 what they are doing that makes them happy. My job as a teacher is incredibly fulfilling and makes me happy. There were times where my teaching job wasn't fulfilling, but my part time job at a bakery was. My husband's job makes him happy because he enjoys working with people and cars, but more than that, he is fulfilled knowing that he is able to provide for his family. We need to have honest conversations with our children that sometimes jobs will be great and sometimes they won't. Sometimes you won't get the job you want, you keep working for it until you get there.


WHAT WE ALL NEED TO DO:

Quit the generacism!! Come on…GROUP HUG! Let's appreciate each other's strengths and let go of the "good ole days." Millennials, we cannot negate the experience of the generations that have come before us. We are all blessed to experience this life in this place. Love. Trust. Be honest. Have integrity.   Don't judge.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Supporting New Teachers: Destination Confidence


"You just need more confidence."

Oh, if I had a dollar....

Hold on while I activate my magic confidence booster pack.




The irony is, I'm the most confident I've ever been, yet I question myself even more than I did before I was "confident." The saying, ignorance is bliss, rings some truth.

Who was I before confidence?

New.
Inexperienced.
Ignorant.
Naïve.
Unscathed. 

                      The same voices that tell you to be confident, are often the ones that tear you down.
                                   Their voices become your inner dialogue. Your uncertainty.


New.
No room for error.
No time for growth.
No excuses.
No mistakes.

                     Figure out how you can get to be a Master teacher by tomorrow. Chop. Chop.
                                  Why aren't you there? Here, read this brochure.


Inexperienced. Have you ever had something pointed out that you didn't know you were supposed to be doing? Imagine that at least once a week for 5 years. That's what the first years of a teacher's career is like. It's similar to parenting (because none of us know what we're doing), except, in parenting, you typically don't have others pointing out your errors - just yourself.

                    Well maybe I don't know how to make the right choices for myself? I keep messing up. 
                                 I should just do what people tell me. I should ask for help.
                                 ...but, wait, what am I supposed to do?? I don't know what to ask.


Ignorant.
I didn't know what to fix. I didn't know what questions to ask. I didn't know how to reflect, because I didn't know what my flaws were. This may seem foreign to non-teachers, but if you don't produce enough sales in retail - this is a flaw. There are so many flaws in teaching that you don't know are flaws. For example, asking a child to follow the dress code will hurt his self-esteem and cause his parents to want a conference to discuss why you were picking on him. How do you know how to avoid these situations without experience? How do you learn how to put out the fires if you've never seen a fire - when you don't know what even causes fires? The expectation is that new teachers put out the fires with no equipment. Impossible.

                     You should have high standards, unless it upset someone - then lower them.
                                  The customer is always right. Wait, who's the customer?

                                  Someone is upset, I must have done something wrong. It's my fault.  

Naïve - People are helping me - so if I just do what I'm told and copy what they try, I'll be golden! That's how we learn something right? We become an apprentice. For some reason, that didn't work. I could be standing on my head twirling a baton just like a "Master," and would be told it wasn't entertaining enough.


                             I'll try the advice that's given to me. If I'm given strategies or training, it must be because
                                  I need to improve in those areas. Wow, this is a lot to try at once. I'm overwhelmed, but
                                  isn't this what I'm expected to do? Master teachers do it all, why can't I? I must be doing 
                                  it wrong. Or not doing enough. Why are my spinning plates crashing?

Unscathed.
You trust. You trust yourself. You trust others. You haven't been hurt. You are so hopeful and joyful for what the future holds. This is why we think back to our childhood right? The innocence. Your heart isn't calloused. You haven't had anyone betray your trust. 

                                   Wait, I thought that if I'm supposed to learn from others and rely on them?
                                   I thought I could trust them to boost me up? 



Teaching is competitive without anyone telling you it is. Sabotage and passive aggressiveness is around every corner. The bruises and scars are what cause you to change. You wake up one day, and look back - knowledgeable, experienced, and scarred. You know what you value. You know what you need. You know what questions to ask. Another irony? You no longer need people to answer the questions for you. You find your own answers. You no longer depend on anyone but yourself and your NEW, confident inner dialogue!



How do we support new teachers?

  • Be a filter. My mentors could never tell me this enough. I needed someone to filter the books, binders, trainings, new programs, policies, and help me realistically look at what I could accomplish. Someone to say, "You and I together, are going to ignore these and focus on these. If you get in trouble, I'm going down with you. We can't do it all!"  One of the greatest things a fellow teacher did for me was sit down with me, after letting me cry it out, and planned a calendar for my week - not just teaching, EVERYTHING… when I would buy groceries, do laundry, write my research paper, fill out paperwork for school, write lesson plans, grade each set of papers, etc. Any teacher knows you could NEVER sleep and still not accomplish everything. 
  • Give them a few tools - not the whole toolbox. Master teachers are masters because we can juggle a million balls more easily - this, unbeknownst to us, causes new teachers to think that's where they should be. It's either stated or implied for them. They are watching us. They are our apprentices. Remind them in your actions and words, that teaching is a process, and if you try to do it all at first, you will fail. It doesn't mean you lack confidence or knowledge or skill - it means you haven't learned how to multitask yet. You haven't learned what your strengths are. You haven't learned how to put out the fires.
  • Show your weaknesses. Showing a new teacher that Master doesn't happen after the magical year 3 when you gain "career status" and have less evaluations, is important. There is a shift in education, thankfully, where doing what's been done isn't the norm. You don't get your lesson plans completed after a few years of tweaking them, then open the same plan book up for the next 27 years. Teaching is a constant struggle. Show them how to admit mistakes, and figure out a solution to trying something new.
  • Don't expect them to always ask for help. They often don't know what questions to ask. Profession Learning Communities, or PLC's, can be a great place to get ideas and work together, but again - filter those ideas because they may not work in everyone's classroom or for every teacher. PLCs can be overwhelming to a new teacher. They may ask one question, but really be asking something else entirely. Be intuitive - look for what they need, but don't know they need. Maybe they are saying their students are grasping a concept, and you see that she needs to model a smaller skill first. Give her the suggestion.
  • Follow up. Be reliable. If you say you are going to model a lesson, do it. If you know she's struggled with teaching a skill, follow up to ask her how she thinks it's going. The conversations we have as teachers are what make all of us look at ourselves and, therefore, grow. The conversations others have with us become our inner dialogue. 



I'm certain that NOT ALL have had the struggle I had in my first few years. But, I'm certain that MANY HAVE. A program, a brochure, extra trainings can't support a new teacher - only compassion and understanding from those around her. People that truly want her to succeed and remind her how real success is measured, even when she hears otherwise. She needs people to be a filter. Translate the negatives into what they mean for a new teacher. Let her cry. Let her vent. Let her be happy for little successes that aren't measured on a scantron. Remind her, daily, that it's okay to be imperfect. Don't assume a smile or laugh means she's arrived at Mastery. Don't assume that after your mandatory time together, that she's "arrived" at Mastery. Invest. You will learn just as much through the process as she will. 

Read this book: Monday Morning Leadership by David Cottrell. (quick read!!) It's not a teacher book. It's a book about how to mentor and how to be mentored. It would be a great book for any partnership starting a journey together. 



Don't tell newbies to jump to the end...

Be confident.

Be successful.
Be a master.

They don't know how to get there. Like a child doesn't open up a chapter book and read, we support their struggle. We help the bumps in the road and assure them this isn't the end. We must be self-less. We must encourage them to keep going. We must regard ourselves as continuing, daily learners, who have not "arrived"… We are on the journey together.