I’m struggling.

I’ve been doing this gig for over a decade and a half and everything got flipped-turned upside down, and there is no auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.

I started class with a song from 1999 with some powerful lyrics as kids entered the classroom.  Big flop.  Sorry, Des’ree.

I forgot to let kids into class.  They texted other students to tell me. ***facepalm***

I played “Getting to Know You” Bingo.  To quote one student, “Mrs. S. This is hella awkward.”

And those are just the top three faux pas. My child and dog may have made appearances during the very first minute of my live classes, and FlipGrid, a platform I was using to get to know everyone, might have crashed.

But this isn’t meant to be a pity party. I’m just trying to keep it real.
The problem with those well-intentioned plans that went awry is that I was reaching. They looked great and they seemed like something the kids would like, but as it turned out, they didn’t. And with good reason. The reason they didn’t work out is because they simply weren’t me. I am not a door watcher.  I don’t typically play music as students enter. I’m not much for Bingo either. 

“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet
voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow.”

― Mary Anne Radmacher

So I stopped the music upon entry and, instead, I’m taking requests. I set up the doorbell notification in Zoom to alert me that students need to gain access to the classroom so that I don’t accidentally keep them waiting, and I have been more transparent with my classes about how there’s a learning curve here for me too, which is what makes their feedback all the more valuable. I found a way to connect with the kids that’s more true to me.

At our first faculty meeting of the year, my principal played a Tim McGraw song, Here on Earth, and he asked us to think about that very question — why we are here? I’ll admit that at that moment, I wondered sarcastically if it was to endure the back-to-school in-service activities that always seem to pull us from our teeming to-do lists; however, if I give the question the more serious consideration it deserves, then I really believe that the reason I’m here is to support others. I’m not a limelight seeker, and I feel strongly that it takes every kind of person to make this thing called life work — those who want to stand center stage and those who are running around behind the scenes. I’m the stage hand. If sports metaphors are more your thing, then maybe I’m not the flashy high profile infielder, but I’m the versatile utility player who comes in to play defense in order to shore up the team’s chances to win. Any way you want to frame it, I like to think that I help other people shine.

Keeping that in mind, I started to focus on being true to me and I decided to leave some of the gimmicky stuff behind.  I was honest with my classes, and I explained to them that all I really wanted was to get to know them and for them to get to know each other so we can operate as a team. Together, if we can be more open and communicative and…well…like ourselves, I think we could unlock some amazing things as us.

Speaking of the sum as a whole of its parts, I started Genius Hour again.  I cannot stress enough how amazing this sort of project can be. With a new batch of faces and screens in front of me, I set out to cultivate a new crop of passions.  A short video and a clip from a new Disney Pixar movie, Soul, and I was on my way.

My students asked all of the important questions. Can I study what I want? Yes. It can be anything from school? It can be anything from anywhere and any time. How is this related to math? Leave that to me. You pick the topic and I’ll show you what a ninja math is. It’s beautiful, it’s stealthy, and it’s everywhere.

And boom! There it was. By unleashing their passions, I revealed mine. We’re connecting and meeting with another, and we’re on our way to achieving great things. I’m also working hard to make the course material more meaningful and relatable and important, so, for anyone who teaches classes ranging from math and statistics to politics and sociology, this amazing site could be immensely helpful. “Skew the Script” combines the methodological skills of data analysis with the contextual framework of contemporary social issues. It could not be more relevant or timely — I can’t recommend it highly enough.

At this point, I’d say that I’m prepared for the tough stuff. I’m ready to engage in the real conversations, and I hope my students know it. No more of the “cool” things; just the authentic ones. If I put more of me out there and they follow suit with even just a little bit of them, I’m confident that we’ll be more us.