Fanning the Flame

I always struggled with the identity of those two. Which one is the mad scientist and which one is the creative genius? It’s a shame that I didn’t get to see my school’s production of Jekyll and Hyde. Maybe I would’ve been able to make an association with one of my student’s portrayals and it would have finally stuck. I think part of my problem in differentiating between Jekyll and Hyde is identifying with that kind of personal crisis myself. Am I a little too close to the mad scientist who’s about to create a monster, or do I present myself as someone who’s buttoned up and conventional? This is why I have trusted council to consult. A kind, honest teacher friend who will tell me the truth is worth her weight in gold. I appreciate someone who will answer my question, “Is this too crazy?”

That happened to me just this week. I’ve been working on how to continue with Genius Hour throughout the process of distance learning. Many students have asked me how they would continue on, and I have to admit that I struggled to adequately answer them. It certainly wasn’t due to lack of resources – seriously –  run a quick search and see for yourself. There are tweets and webinars galore! I was thrilled to see that out there because Genius Hour just happens to be one of the things that I miss the most. It hurts to think about all of those students and their ideas, efforts, and hopes – a bunch of individual sparks just fizzling out. It’s like having a coffee routine with your best friend that you miss so much that you can’t bring yourself to drink the magical brew right now…except it was never about the coffee. It was always about the drive to get there.

Keeping that means-before-ends priority in mind, I managed to light a spark of my own this week by finding a way to tie together my distance learning plan and Genius Hour. I’m coming up on a unit about the Golden Ratio. (For those of you who don’t know what this concept is, watch this for a little background from Donald Duck.)

Golden Ratio is one of those sneaky math concepts. You unknowingly use it all the time. It’s one of those instinctual things that you gravitate towards because it’s all around you. Math is seriously beautiful that way. GAH! I love math…

…okay, sorry – back to the point and the larger discussion at hand. My typical project on this topic involves using a mask to mathematically calculate beauty of actors and actresses, and even the students themselves if they wished. Pretty standard, but I was having trouble determining how to assist the class remotely and be sure that they understand how Golden Ratio applies in that context. What I came to realize is that with Genius Hour, I can do so much better. The whole point is to apply what you know, isn’t it? DING! The light bulb went off! Golden Ratio can apply to the aesthetics of a webpage by focusing on elements such as logos and typography. Why can’t I ask students to create a page explaining their Genius Hour project, while demonstrating their understanding of the Golden Ratio to make it pleasing to viewers?

This is the moment,

This is the time,

When the momentum and the moment

Are in rhyme!

This is the Moment – Jekyll and Hyde

Success! And don’t worry…my council agreed. So that’s where I’m headed! Tying the usefulness of Golden Ratio to something that allows students to continue sharing their passion. With this revelation, I seriously think I might have found the sweet spot of teaching. Only time will tell, but I’ll be sure to let you know whether it was genius or just plain mad.

“Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it’s ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.”

L.R. Knost

Here we were, just living in the mundane and routine, when BAM! Our lives changed. We abandoned our schools and workplaces to shelter at home in an effort to keep everyone safe. We adjusted as best as we could to having our houses become more than home – they became work, school, hotel, restaurant – for all inhabitants at the same time. We adjusted to distance learning as a reassuring label for educational crisis management and to midday walks as epic Frogger battles played out in our otherwise sleepy neighborhood streets. We did all of this in the hopes that if we listened really well, we’d be rewarded for our good behavior. But as the time on the clock ticks down and the finish line keeps getting pushed back, we find ourselves becoming accustomed to the letdown.

I thought I was prepared for the news that schools wouldn’t reopen this year. As it turns out…I wasn’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re in kindergarten or if you’re a senior.  Wherever you are on or around the spectrum of school, the announcement felt like a punch to the gut.  I had already resigned myself to the fact that I might have to continue the crisis learning gig that I just started (a skill that I’m definitely adding to my resumé, by the way), but then I realized that this is my new normal until at least June. I guess somewhere in the deeper recesses of my consciousness, I was still hopeful that I’d be able to get back to the previous reality – like waking up from a dream. Now it’s increasingly clear to me that what once was will not be again. Not any time soon, anyway.  So it leaves me wondering – what exactly does life after COVID-19 look like?

Even as an introvert who has to actively gear up to commingle with large groups of humans under typical circumstances, I have to admit that even I miss the daily interactions.  There is so much joy in the small stuff, like a smile or a compliment someone offers when they happen to see you passing in the halls.  I’m not saying those moments have entirely ceased, but it’s less organic and far more deliberate now. This whole situation is mind blowing; it’s not something we ever prepared for and it certainly isn’t anything I wish to experience ever again.

There are some optimists out there promoting the idea that this is the pause and reset we needed. I can buy into the idea that some good will come from this; however, I suppose I’m not done mourning the other things. A wonderful senior at my high school started a twitter account to make people smile – and she’s done an amazing job! – but on the day that the news broke that we wouldn’t be returning to our hallowed halls this year, even she needed a pick-me-up. She was far from alone. I needed one too. It was on that day that I happened to come across this rendition of “I’ll Stand By You.” I have to agree with Heidi Klum here – it was amazing. The song struck just the right chord and the lyrics resonated with me. They expressed exactly what I was feeling. 

It was just the jolt I needed to remember that we can get through this together, particularly if we’re willing to give each other a break and temper our expectations a bit. We can dial down the pressure on the endless array of productivity challenges. It’s okay to reject the idea that each day is an opportunity to complete a self- or home-improvement project. You might not feel like it, and that’s fine. In fact…it’s perfectly okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel like this isn’t what you wanted. It’s okay to just be and to act on whatever does or doesn’t move you. So if you feel up to it, do it – whatever it is. But if you don’t, that’s okay, too. These aren’t ordinary times, and you might not feel like you ordinarily would. You’re okay. 

So you have my permission to indulge in the seemingly frivolous things that make you happy. It could be those oddly satisfying videos of people icing cakes perfectly or ordering fancy takeout. Heck, some of my neighbors are even getting dressed up to take out the trash! Whatever makes you smile – go for it – because those little things aren’t silly or frivolous right now. They’re crucial to surviving this thing. You’ll never know the exact reach of what you’re putting out there. How many people might you inspire? How many joyful smiles can you bring to faces that have been set by worry and uncertainty? You might not know, but I can assure you that it’s happening.
And it’s where the soul-healing begins.

How is everyone doing? Anyone else feel like they’ve aged a few years in the past week? I’ve seen jokes that March has been the longest year. I hear that. Each time my friend and I sign off from our regular chats, I lament that I’ll talk to her again in three years. So suffice it to say that this has been an extremely trying time for everyone. We’re trying to put on a brave face and make everything seem okay, and at times, we can put a positive spin on it even though we aren’t feeling that way ourselves. Personally, I’ve not been very happy lately.

Fortunately, there is hope. I found a TED Talk given by Emily Esfahani Smith in 2017. The title stood out to me like a beacon in the sea of my ever growing email inbox. There’s more to life than being happy – a good reminder that what we often think of as the goal isn’t what we’re really striving for. Give it a watch if you’re intrigued. It’s only twelve minutes long, and, hey, we’ve got time to kill, right? Spoiler alert: the following contains a summary of the featured TED Talk. 

Emily, a writer who studied positive psychology, found in her research that finding meaning in life is more fulfilling than finding happiness. She discusses four pillars that she’s identified as leading to a meaningful life: belonging, purpose, transcendence, and storytelling. Simply reading the transcript gave me goosebumps. She managed to touch on exactly what I’m trying to give my students, and why I feel so strongly that Genius Hour has helped me carve a path toward that end. 

It’s common to the human experience to search for a sense of belonging, and this is the existential point at which Emily begins. I would argue that teenagers, in particular, are constantly on this mission – looking to find their niche, struggling to figure out where they fit in, and longing to find the people who are longing for them. To be sure, they aren’t alone; they’re just newer to the search. It turns out, we’re all looking for someone or a group of someones who will listen and accept us for who we really are. A line from the talk that resonated with me gets straight to the heart of the matter by reminding us that, “…when you lead with love, you create a bond that lifts each of you up.” Yes. Exactly. Genius Hour is transformative and powerful precisely because it gives students permission to be who they are. When you listen – I mean really listen – to your students, show them that you care about them, and prove that you’re genuinely interested in what they’re passionate about, you create a bond. That’s #teachergoals right there.

The second pillar Emily describes is purpose. She tells us that, “the key to purpose is using your strengths to serve others.” There’s a certain kind of warm and fuzzy feeling that settles over you when you find your purpose and see it come to fruition. As a teacher, I am beyond grateful that I get to live out my purpose, even though, right now, it’s not all taking shape quite like I’d pictured. It turns out, the mind’s eye can be deceptive. The real-life optics are different but the purpose – being a touchstone for kids and helping them figure out how to find their way – is the same. I’m even more thrilled when I can help students find their passion and hone their strengths. I know it gives them that warm and fuzzy feeling, and I love knowing I had a hand in that. 

The third pillar, transcendence, is a tricky one. There doesn’t seem to be a clear path or a particularly reliable set of directions to get there. You simply don’t know that you’re there until you’ve arrived, and that’s a difficult reality for many people to accept – including myself. When I was pregnant with my first child, I wanted to know how I would know when it was time to go to the hospital. The medical professionals offered some generic ideas about the metrics I could use, but beyond that, all they could tell me was that “I would just know.” At the time, that tacit response to my very reasonable concerns was frustrating to me. But, in the end, it was right on – when the time came, I knew. I think that’s what transcendence feels like. You know when you’ve arrived at some point in your journey but you can’t account for the time that’s elapsed or the route that you took to get there. It’s completely jarring but in the best way possible. That’s what I hope my students realize at the end of their Genius Hour projects – that they put in more hours than they realized but it felt like nothing at all.

The last pillar Emily describes is storytelling, and she emphasizes the importance of sharing your personal narrative. This, more than anything, captures the essence of Genius Hour. Talk about your passion, describe your process, explain how every triumph and tribulation led you to your final product. I always encourage my students to focus on the journey and what they can learn from that. You can learn so much about yourself by reflecting on what you’ve done and where you’ve been, and that is truly knowledge worth having. As part of my distance learning plan, I gave my class a choice board that allowed them to explore different aspects of our class. They had some math review (naturally), a bit of problem solving, and a social emotional learning component. One option was to write a letter to their future selves.

I loved the letter writing idea for a few key reasons. First and foremost, it serves as a sort of reflective literary time capsule and, right now, there is simply so much to document about these completely unpredictable and unprecedented times. As a journaler, I love being transported back to when I wrote something about a time that seemed to stand still. It’s the closest I think I can can get to time travel, and I just love being reminded of how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown, and how much I’ve learned in the interim. This kind of self-discovery is a major reward for me.

Speaking of such gifts, I was rewarded twice this week by time-travel writing. One such instance came in the form of a letter I wrote to my future self in a district mindfulness workshop. The timing of its arrival was uncanny.

Well that was good timing. Thanks past self for the reminder. Thanks @GanskyJosh for sending it! 😊 #UMASDistheplacetobe #selfcare pic.twitter.com/OsHrJaKUVm

— Danielle Sabato (@DSaturdayE200) March 30, 2020

Another was a letter that a student shared with me, totally validating every reason that I’m so invested in Genius Hour.

For me, it doesn’t get much better than that. These are the reminders that will get me through this time. This is my purpose, my meaning, my happiness, and – yes – my warm and fuzzy feeling.

 

I have always found that I view things a little bit differently than most of the people I encounter. My mind works in such a way that I’m always falling down one rabbit hole or another. If I counted the number of times per day my inner monologue asked, “what if?” I believe it would be well over twenty. I can attribute this tendency, and my ability to shift my perspective, to my mother. She is a supremely positive being whom exudes light, happiness, and warmth wherever she goes.

Today, on Day Seventeen (can that be right?) of “shelter in place,” I was reminded that everything is a matter of perspective. We all have different homes and responsibilities and we all process this mandate to cloister ourselves in very different ways. I’ve seen countless memes reminding introverts to check in on their extrovert friends because they are not okay. I have seen endless parenting jokes wherein someone requests to switch a child out of their homeschool class or offers up a tip to time it perfectly so that you repeat your child’s name over and over again while they’re attending a class meeting on Zoom. Well played, all around! I know I’ve personally warned my youngest daughter that her behavior needs to change because no one will come looking for her as long as we’re sheltering in place. Fortunately, she was able to intuit that I was joking (…sort of).

I’m immensely fortunate that I can see this situation from perspectives other than my own. It’s precisely this broad field of vision that helps me anticipate roadblocks, pitfalls, and any other obstacles that my initial frame of reference may have shrouded. It allows me to choose the one that seems best fit to the circumstances at hand and go wherever it takes me. 

So, in a very real way, tomorrow is the first day of school. I mean, I already know my students, so at least I have that going for me! No ice-breakers or trust-building activities. We have that in the books and we can do this – remote locations and all. Thankfully, this isn’t my first year teaching, as I am just about midway through my career, so I have that going for me too! Having never been through this exact set of circumstances but through plenty of others, I feel it’s a storm I can weather and help the kids get through the eye of it unscathed as well. I’m at ease with the digital platforms that will become my makeshift classroom, and I recognize that having that type of facility with the technology aspect of this is critical. Ultimately, though – to be honest – none of that really matters.

See, tomorrow is about focusing on the important stuff. It’s not about making materials available. It’s about making myself available. It’s about reconnecting with my students. I get to be a calm presence that quells some of their fears and abates their mounting anxiety. I can help them to realize that so much learning happens outside of the confines of the school building and I can reassure them that grades aren’t the most important metric we use to assess how we’re doing in this world. I can remind them that kindness, above all, is what matters.

Whatever your digital resources are for this foray into distance learning, remember that flexibility is the most important tool to have in your belt. And with the right perspective, anything is possible.

I wish you all the best of luck on your first day of this new adventure. Make sure to put on your best digital smile, take a deep breath, maybe take a small step back (just to quickly broaden that perspective), and know that we are all still learning as we go. 

There’s been a lot of focus this week on supporting the kids, but let’s not forget that supporting the adults is important too! Many of us are navigating new territory — parents and teachers alike — and we should be mindful of that for everyone.

I’ve seen some humorous posts and memes about parents wading into homeschooling territory for the first time. Some find themselves rolling out Pinterest-worthy schedules that somehow recreate the school day and manage to incorporate resources for daily instruction in math, science, art, English, social studies, physical education, and music. Others (like me) tend to fall in line with something more like this. 

For the record, both “Feral Time” and “Fight Over Toys” have been way overrepresented in my daily routine so far. Whichever camp you fall into — the point is that we’re all just trying to find our balance. It’s important to remember that finding that balance requires taking one step at a time. As teachers, some of us are trying new platforms for the very first time. Some of us are learning how to use brand new technology. All of this uncharted territory carries some degree of frustration, and we all possess a different threshold for coping with that. Some may struggle with pacing, while others grapple with how to ensure the integrity of testing in a purely digital context. We likely all tend to worry about the students and parents who will access this material. What will it look like, sound like, and feel like to them? Will it be enough? Is it too much? How can we adequately support our students and check in with them when we can’t see their faces to gauge their reactions and levels of understanding? We have to be mindful of all of the obstacles that students face at home while we aren’t in the same room to reassure them — these are battles we weren’t necessarily all prepared to face.

That being said, remember that you aren’t alone. This may be an unprecedented minefield, but if we’re kind to one another and generous with our time and resources, we’ll navigate it together. So if you are in a position to reach out to a colleague — don’t hesitate to do it. Show them how to use an app that may be useful for them, help them figure out how to upload content for their kids, lead them through a mock test-session on AP Classroom — whatever it is — be open to sharing and collaborating.  Let them know they aren’t alone.  I’m very fortunate. I’ve got an amazing support system of colleagues and friends. My department has held a few Google Hangouts during which time we talked, collaborated, and divided up the workload. All of that constructive time spurred us to meet up later in a different capacity for a virtual happy hour, where we could leave the work behind for a bit and just take the time to catch up personally. Both opportunities proved to be immensely worthwhile. It was nice to see my colleagues and have a chance to brainstorm and gain our collective footing. It eliminated some of the questions that were starting to overwhelm me. I wondered: What am I going to do? How much is too much? Not enough? When will I find the time? I left each meeting feeling better and more certain about how to proceed, and knowing that I wasn’t the only one wondering was valuable in its own right. When all was said and done, though, I have to say that it was equally important to unwind and socialize. It was a good reminder that we’re going through this together and it affects every aspect of our lives — not just the parts that are visible to our students.

I’ve been so heartened to see everyone sharing. Artists are performing concerts from home.  Celebrities and authors are recording videos of themselves reading books.  Lunch doodles with Mo Willems has been a highlight and a lifesaver in my household. There have even been a variety of inventive challenges, spirit themes, and “sports” brackets to keep us positive and focused on how strong our collective will can be if we all channel our efforts toward the same end. Many business enterprises have even been offering their services for free and releasing content early. These are unquestionably trying times, but take heart — there’s an awful lot of good out there. 

Let’s try to keep that in mind and do what we can to support each other. Advocate for yourself and reach out if you need something. Remember that everyone is trying to find their way, so keep your feet on the ground and your head on your shoulders and know a few things: you are enough; you are doing enough. And finally, because it bears repeating — remember to stay home, stay safe, and keep washing those hands!

So this sucks. There’s simply no more eloquent way to put it. Even though we knew it was coming, the onset still felt quick and it caught us off-guard and under-prepared. You can’t look at any social media platform without being inundated by information about the Coronavirus. There’s no escaping it.

It is supremely overwhelming and disruptive. Schedules have been upended. Routines are gone. Some are grasping to find a new sense of normalcy while others worry about how best to prepare for every possible scenario. All we know now is that we really don’t know.

For me, as for so many people out there, school is a major part of my routine and it helps to define my sense of what’s normal. Many counties and states throughout the US have joined what’s quickly becoming a global trend during this pandemic by deciding to suspend school for at least the next two weeks, if not longer. This is incredibly jarring, but not just for the kids; adults too — teachers and parents alike — have had their worlds totally destabilized by this. Parents are concerned about what to do with their children and how to help foster their learning at home. Teachers are worried about what they’ll be asked to do and how to best support their students without the brick-and-mortar, face-to-face experiences that we’re accustomed to.

To that end, if you can manage to wade through the virus-related content on Twitter, you’ll find that many educators have been sharing what they’ve come up with to help navigate and make the best of these difficult (and largely unprecedented) times. Free services are being offered by internet companies and online educational sites have been generously churning out resources and digital lesson ideas. Parents are getting in on the action by sharing ways to devise sample schedules and activities to keep the learning going at home. It’s amazing.

My distance learning plan (grade 11 English):

Have each student start a blog (Google Sites) about ANY TOPIC that they’re passionate about. Sports, video games, politics, #CoronaVirus, etc. Find your voice!

Post 2-3 posts per week for however long we’re away. Share links on LMS.

— John Meehan (@MeehanEDU) March 13, 2020

This one was also a favorite of mine.

Posted this on Google Classroom and my classroom Instagram for my students, I think being clear with students is super important right now. pic.twitter.com/Ykf79f7xRC

— Mrs. Byars 🌎 👩‍🏫 (@mrsbyarshistory) March 14, 2020

I love it because, in all of this, sometimes we try to ignore the elephant in the room, striving to maintain the status quo and carry on with business as usual; however, it’s really important to remember that — now more than ever — open and honest communication is the key. It’s okay to send the message that we love our content and that we want to provide resources, but it’s equally okay to check in just because “I miss your face.” 

I hope all of the faces that are missed out there stay safe and healthy. Hang in there and make good choices!

I love helping other people realize their dreams and potential. I think that’s why I love teaching so much. I find that it’s like any opportunity to give a gift to a friend: when you get to know a person and learn what makes them tick, you wind up coming across the perfect gift that you just can’t wait to give them because it’s thoughtful and meaningful and it will bring them joy. You’re almost giddy with the anticipation of seeing them light up, no matter the size of the token. Afterall, sometimes it’s the smallest gestures that have the greatest impact.

For me, teaching mirrors that experience. It’s one of the things I relish most about it — getting to know the students and figuring out what makes them tick. What drives them? What do they value? Once you establish that you care about what motivates and excites them, the buy-in is considerably easier to garner. And it’s at exactly that point that you realize that the possibilities for learning are endless. When students are just as all-in as you are, you can teach them all kinds of neat tricks and help them navigate all of the mazes and solve all of the problems. You can also help them to find their voice and encourage them to speak up until they get their point across clearly. These are the skills that’ll carry them far from our classrooms, and when they realize that they can do it — the lightbulb turns on. I love those moments, and it’s so nice when you can have a side conversation that generates one, totally out of the blue. Unplanned, unscripted, unexpected, and entirely worth it. Those real conversations that aren’t part of the plan can be incredibly rewarding.

That’s the best part of Genius Hour. There isn’t a script. There’s no real plan to follow (although you can find so many amazing resources to help you get started or find a foothold). When you get right down to it, though, it’s just you listening to the real goals, hopes, and dreams of your students. It’s never boring, though, and it’s never predictable. No two interactions are the same. Some students are nervous to engage in something fluid that moves on their own terms. They want a plan and a rubric and the reassurance that they can track their progress to know that it’s all going “just right.” Some are simply gratified to feel supported in an endeavor outside of the confines of the traditional curriculum. Then there are others who feel a bit lost. They’re unsure of what to do, where to go, and maybe a little reluctant to seek out help finding their way. 

It’s important to remember that no matter where they fall, they can all succeed. In Genius Hour, success isn’t measured by outcomes but rather by processes, and in the modern context of performance-based analytics for everything, it’s easy to lose sight of that. It’s our job to remind students that their effort goes toward means, not ends. This opportunity is about encouraging students to set a goal, work toward achieving it, and learn from what they encounter along the way. It’s about recognizing the utility in the mistakes and the missteps and how in learning more about yourself, you can figure out the way forward and spend less time feeling stuck. Sharing about these experiences — the trials and tribulations alike — is critical. You never know when someone else might be relieved to hear that something didn’t go well for you. It’s not about relishing the schadenfreude — it’s about the strength that comes from knowing that other people face setbacks and manage to overcome them.

Just the other day, I was checking in on my class, holding one-on-one conversations, and a student commented that she would “volunteer as tribute,” implying that she was nervous to talk to me about her project. She didn’t feel like she knew what she was doing, and she found herself feeling scattered — desperately trying to find something that would hold her attention for more than a month. Just as she was finishing her thought, there it was: the lightbulb moment. She suddenly realized that she could describe the process of finding a hobby based on interests and how trying one activity could lead to finding another. After our conference, I overheard her say to a friend, “I love this.” Those genuine moments of enthusiasm and joy are the real deal, and I love knowing that I played a part in that.

Personally and professionally, I’ve never been one for the spotlight. I’ve never sought a leading role. I don’t want to be the president of anything or the teacher of the year. Where I thrive is working behind-the-scenes. Stage crew, secretary, coach — those supportive positions that the people on stage, on the radar, and in the spotlight can’t do without. I’m that person, and it’s truly the best feeling. Just knowing that I can have an impact by helping others discover their own strengths and talents — many of which they were never aware existed in the first place — is its own reward for me, and I feel that way in all of the facets of my life. Where my students are concerned, I feel like my primary role is to support them and make sure that they know their voices are worth being heard. They need to learn how to put the good that they carry with them out into the world, and I am more than happy to be backstage, in the bleachers, on the sidelines, and in the shadows — cheering them on.

“Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

-Fred Rogers

I know Mr. Rogers shared this bit of wisdom with the intent of helping children cope with scary situations. I think this piece of advice is universal – it can apply to anyone, in any more or less dire situations. There are helpers all around us every single day. We constantly hear news of good samaritans or of people who pay it forward. Those are certainly the kinds of helpers that immediately spring to mind.

Yet, I think if you take the time to stop and look around, you’ll find a myriad of regular helpers, right there in your immediate orbit. You may not always be aware of it while you’re in it, but there are times when nothing seems to go right, and you need to lean on every single one of those helpers. It can be the office assistant who smiles and asks you how your day is. It can be the colleague who offers to make your copies because your day is totally booked with back to back meetings. It can be the person who offers to help with a task on a committee. It can be an expert who shares resources with you or just takes the time to help you work toward a solution that’s been elusive. These people are all around you, and they’re always willing to help. It’s just that you’re so busy and preoccupied with what’s immediately in front of you, or you’re simply too snowed under to notice. Sometimes, you just need to look up. 

This is a concept worth helping our students understand. There is always someone willing to take the time to help. There is always someone who knows more and who can help with the process, or who can help direct us toward someone who does. These connections are so powerful and can help us grow exponentially. I, personally, made quick  connections with a sizable group of enthusiastic educators and have found that Twitter is a lifesaver as a platform for keeping in touch and following what everyone is doing. That being said, while there is immense utility in social networking, it’s the face-to-face connections that still prove to be the most invaluable.

In a world of Instagram “perfection,” it can be easy to fall into a trap of relativity – constantly drawing comparisons and finding ourselves and our work wanting. It becomes easy to get weighed down by the influx of information or dejected by the lack of quiet space in a world of sensory overload. It might be tempting in those overwhelming moments to just give up…but we shouldn’t. Everyone has a unique perspective and a voice that ought to be heard, and through collaboration and open communication, amazing things can happen. We all have something worthwhile to share, and it’s important not to get caught up in measuring the value of our contributions against anyone else’s. We just have to put it out there, confident that it will serve us and others well. 

I recently put this on my quote board to remind my students and myself of an important but easily lost truth:

No one is you and that is your superpower.

Dave Grohl

So, in short: it’s important to identify the helpers when you need them, but you should likewise try to be a helper whenever you can. Be mindful of the quid pro quo. Just be willing to give of your time, your talent, or your resources. I think you’ll find that you can make even more meaningful connections by giving freely of yourself, which may just prove to be more gratifying than you ever might have imagined. 

I was explaining my concern about not having a topic for a blog post this week to a friend over a croissant and coffee. In a very tongue-in-cheek manner, she asked if I’d want to write about the car-buying process, absolutely sure she had picked the most uninteresting topic; as it turns out, that offbeat suggestion was all the inspiration I needed for my post today. 

See, the car buying process really is an interesting one. It awakens us to something that’s an otherwise unconscious part of our lives. We live in a car culture, so driving is simply a part of our day that we grow accustomed to, and we take comfort in the routine of it — the mechanics, the logistics, the feel. No matter what you drive, you tend to situate things in a particular way that makes life in the car easier, more convenient, and tailored to your needs. For me, personally, there’s nothing worse than when my husband drives my car, which then necessitates having to change the seat settings and mirrors all over again when I finally reclaim it. The habit — the autopilot of it all — can become quite a comfort, so when that gets disrupted in any way, you really take notice, which can be awkward and discomforting. Sometimes the break in routine is only for a short period of time while your car is in the shop for scheduled maintenance. At other times, a piece of the cylinder coil breaks off and lodges itself inside your engine — this is when things become a bit more permanent, and suddenly you’re faced with the process of looking into getting a new car.

Once that ball gets rolling, it can be incredibly overwhelming. Everyone — yes, literally everyone — has an opinion. My five year old is bored by my Ford Explorer, expressing to me more than once that the Sweet & Sassy pink limo (complete with false eyelashes, mind you) offers a much cooler ride. Everyone weighs in when it’s time to make a big purchase like a new car, and despite their best intentions, they often project their own wants and needs onto you. It can be difficult to sort it all out and make out your own voice above all the noise. Then, once you actually make it to the dealership, they have their own agendas and quotas to reach. It’s hard to discern who has your back in all of this.

But just when it all gets to be a bit too much, and you start wondering if it’s more logistically feasible to move within walking distance of all the regular stops in your life — something miraculous happens. You get to test drive cars. You’re in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively, and you finally have a chance to find the one that feels right. The seats conform to your shape. You hit the gas pedal and the car hugs the road at just the right angle. You grip the steering wheel and remember that you’re the one in control. You get to decide where you’re going and which turns to take, and the car responds perfectly to your handling. You’ve found the one.

Right, and what the Harry does any of this have to do with teaching and Genius Hour? Well, that’s where the fun comes in…

As teachers, we can get very comfortable with what has always worked for us, the tried and true methods and resources that have always served our students and us well. Sometimes we become such creatures of habit ourselves that we forget to stop, reflect, and evaluate our materials and processes to make sure that they are still a good fit. Take it easy on yourself if this resonates with you — it’s not for lack of interest or trying. With all of the outside demands pursuant to doing the job, the constant pressure to be an “edutainer,” and trying to stay current with all the buzzwords and fad techniques, it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that we are in control. It may occasionally take a shock to the system to make us stop and think, to reevaluate where we are as educators and to recognize our own growth, strength and talents. We get to take the pulse of our classroom on any given day, at any given time, and we’re the ones who decide when it’s time to hit the brakes and when it’s time put the pedal to the metal and go forth with reckless abandon toward whatever awaits us on the road ahead. 

This week’s message is to stop and take inventory every once in a while. Make sure you give yourself credit for the fabulous things you do, but also look hard at what you might be doing out of habit. Don’t get too complacent with the creature comforts. Be brave enough to try something new and unusual. It might help you grow in ways you never thought possible. Maybe you’ve outgrown some things and you’re ready to discover the new ones out there that are better suited for where you are now. Just remember that each and every time you hit the road, it’s not about the car; it’s about who’s behind the wheel.  

I love school supplies and stationery; ever since I was young, and way before I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I loved looking up and down the aisles at Staples and seeing all of the gleaming binders and patterned notebooks and fun mechanical pencils. It wasn’t until I became a teacher, however, that I recognized the power of a Post-it. 

That small three by three inch square piece of paper possesses magic.  It doesn’t matter what color it is, but I’d argue that the original shape and size are best, and the adhesiveness is just flat-out unparalleled.  I’ve seen several Post-it notes in precarious places survive apocalyptic conditions. But I digress. They aren’t merely durable; they’re transformative. From writing a quick directive, to explaining a math problem, to teaching scale factor, to completing a social-emotional activity, to just letting someone know you were there. The Post-it plays a key role. 

I often find that students leave me a Post-it note when they can’t manage to track me down and simply need to use one as a means of checking in. I’ve personally used them to sort and label stacks of materials and other handouts to make things easily accessible for day-long substitutes or quick class coverages.  I’ve used those small pieces of paper to conduct a crash mini-lesson that corrects a problem or offers a new example. My favorite activity with a Post-it involves enlarging a famous piece of artwork to introduce the concept of scale factor, but it’s especially useful because it promotes teamwork. It’s a small activity that packs a pretty powerful punch. 

Those are just a few ways you can employ a Post-it note to great effect for instructional or organizational purposes, but some of my favorite uses are the personal ones. I’ve received Post-it notes from students that walked out of my room feeling so empowered that they just knew their signature would be worth something in the future. I have a note from a former student that went on to become a teacher and served as a substitute in my classroom not long ago. I’ve received countless thank you notes and pick-me-ups scrawled on a Post-It note over the years, and each one has a special meaning. I’ve even completed — and would highly recommend — the “I wish my teacher knew activity” with Post-it notes. Talk about creating a quick bond. Very powerful.

I encourage you to draw inspiration from the magic of these otherwise underrated school supplies and see what kinds of hidden gems you find along the way. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.