A recent conversation with a couple of dear friends/trusted colleagues has me thinking (again) about the importance of relationships in our professional learning communities.
Of course, as a coach, I know that most of my work hinges on establishing and actively sustaining positive working relationships with staff members. But how important to successful coaching are the relationships between colleagues? I'm thinking they are critical.
My friends pointed out to me that they were able to accept scaffolding to independence with their coaching/new learning because they work directly with supportive colleagues who encouraged them and understood that mistakes are part of learning and becoming even better.
This caused me to pause and think about the inverse; indeed, those who take longer to build independence do seem to lack a support system with trusted colleagues. (I'm hitting myself on the forehead with my palm.) I think the result is, at times, a desire to work together longer so that the coach provides the extra support that leads to independence--support that, in the best or luckiest learning communities, comes from a network of colleagues.
Now I am revisiting my quest of helping teachers find, build, and sustain their own learning communities. This is a process; I think this is especially true because the nature of our day-to-day work involves working in isolation with 20-40 students--no other adults in sight. We are amazing, self-sufficient workers with an intrinsic motivation for work that often requires working alone to do our amazing teaching... Colleagues who are doing the same thing never really see each other in action, not to mention providing intentional feedback and learning from each other.
I have begun facilitating Roundtable discussions, short-term instructional learning and coaching cycles, staff book studies, and other collaborative sessions for large and small groups of teachers. In addition, I continue to offer longer-term coaching cycles for individual teachers with particular instructional goals. I think all of these help with building learning communities for safe risk taking for our educators seeking job-embedded opportunities to practice new teaching strategies.
Now I'm thinking about ways to add colleagues to these coaching opportunities. Perhaps we should add classroom visitations to short and longer-term cycles? Could we get teachers to make professional videos to share with colleagues? Could we Skype into a classroom, watching and listening from another location? What other ideas do you have?
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Beauty... Life
Life really is full of beauty. It's easy to see in the eyes of my children, husband, and dear family and friends who grace my life day in, day out. I have come to believe that there are no coincidences, at least as far as people and relationships go. Though everyone is different in how and when they respond to loving, caring actions and words, it seems like this is the only way to live, the only way to work. If you are consistent in your words and actions, and if they are borne of sincere caring and love, people will notice, appreciate, and often reciprocate--which adds even more beauty to your life because you were just living in the Light, not expecting anything in return.
Literacy coaching has opened my mind as I constantly seek a broader understanding of people's motivations and how to link new learning to what they know, believe, and do well. When I first assumed this role, one of my favorite songs was Amy Grant's "Find What You're Looking For".
"Find What You're Looking For"
Lyrics:
What would they find if they uncovered all my tracks
Of roads I’d snuck down and darkness and never turn back
Well they’d find what they’re looking for
Secrets and so much more
What would they find if they searched for a heart of gold
They’d find sacrifices of time and money never told
Yeah they’d find what they’re looking for
Kindness and so much more
Cause there’s so much good in the worst of us
So much bad in the best of us
It never makes sense for any of us
To criticize the rest of us
We’ll just find what we’re looking for
We’ll find it and so much more
What would I find if I turned back the time on your face
Could I piece together the memories that have made you this way
I might find what I’m looking for
Understanding and so much more
Haven’t we all learned the best life lessons
By falling and falling down hard
If we’re looking for somebody’s failures
We won’t have to look very far...
****
My favorite is the verse that begins, "What would I find if I turned back the time on your face?" I think that piecing together the memories that made someone a certain way does give us "understanding and so much more."
This is true in life and has become an essential part of what I carry in my heart and mind as a literacy coach. I need to understand your teaching memories so that I can understand the beliefs that brought you to this point and then use that understanding--"and so much more"-- to assist you in finding what you're looking for as a teacher. That is the true beauty of my work with teachers.
Indeed, beauty is everywhere, especially in the eyes, hearts, minds, and spirits of teachers.
"Find What You're Looking For"
Literacy coaching has opened my mind as I constantly seek a broader understanding of people's motivations and how to link new learning to what they know, believe, and do well. When I first assumed this role, one of my favorite songs was Amy Grant's "Find What You're Looking For".
"Find What You're Looking For"
Lyrics:
What would they find if they uncovered all my tracks
Of roads I’d snuck down and darkness and never turn back
Well they’d find what they’re looking for
Secrets and so much more
What would they find if they searched for a heart of gold
They’d find sacrifices of time and money never told
Yeah they’d find what they’re looking for
Kindness and so much more
Cause there’s so much good in the worst of us
So much bad in the best of us
It never makes sense for any of us
To criticize the rest of us
We’ll just find what we’re looking for
We’ll find it and so much more
What would I find if I turned back the time on your face
Could I piece together the memories that have made you this way
I might find what I’m looking for
Understanding and so much more
Haven’t we all learned the best life lessons
By falling and falling down hard
If we’re looking for somebody’s failures
We won’t have to look very far...
****
My favorite is the verse that begins, "What would I find if I turned back the time on your face?" I think that piecing together the memories that made someone a certain way does give us "understanding and so much more."
This is true in life and has become an essential part of what I carry in my heart and mind as a literacy coach. I need to understand your teaching memories so that I can understand the beliefs that brought you to this point and then use that understanding--"and so much more"-- to assist you in finding what you're looking for as a teacher. That is the true beauty of my work with teachers.
Indeed, beauty is everywhere, especially in the eyes, hearts, minds, and spirits of teachers.
"Find What You're Looking For"
Teaching: More Than a Prescription
I used to see best practices in instruction as a "one size fits all" prescription for teaching. After 20 years of teaching across grades 1-4, I knew that best practices were so powerful that they were extremely portable; if more teachers believed this, perhaps more might be willing to try teaching different grade levels.
But as a coach, I've come to not only see the uniqueness in each grade level but in each teacher--indeed, in unique circumstances each year. Even when you teach the same grade level, each year is always different from the rest. The obvious reason is that you have different students. Most years are impacted by changes of standards and/or book adoptions that alter the materials primarily used to teach a given content area...some are teacher- and student-friendly while others leave us yearning for something better. Parents are different in how they interact with their children and teachers each year, sometimes supporting us in amazing ways and sometimes moving us to tears or frustration. Even our colleagues change over time. Evaluation procedures change, and ridicule from politicians adds to our stress. But what is constant is the idea that best practices can help us to become more effective while appreciating and addressing the unique learning needs of our students.
Even so, what must remain unique is our implementation of best practices, the human factor in teaching. Even a teaching manual that is chalked full of scripted "best practice" cannot create a lifelong learners; nor can it make anyone into a great teacher. What is unique about those we deem as great teachers? I think it is a combination of attitudes, including:
--A willingness to take risks in instruction, understanding that education IS theory that begs us to use our unique teaching spirits to mold it into what works best in any given class or with certain students. We try new approaches, reflect on what did/did not go well, and then we tweak the next lesson to improve the learning experience--all in the framework of our own unique ways of viewing our teaching, our students, and success. Each teacher's uniqueness in how s/he delivers best practices with any given class or student is what makes a classroom and learning experience joyful and alive. There is no curriculum, no script that can plan or dictate this. Only living, breathing teachers with human minds have the capacity to reach other humans in this way. This is where working with an instructional coach can help: a coach can guide you into seeing ways to keep your instruction true to your unique strengths and beliefs while meeting the pressing demands of day-to-day life at school.
--Being actively engaged with students by planning and delivering instruction that builds on what is known, provides support only as much as needed and at the precise moment that it's needed so that it is timely. We stretch students while planning support that lifts them, enabling them to grow. This is true of instructional coaches, as well; we are there to help teachers stretch while providing timely support and feedback that only another person walking in your shoes can provide.
This leads to another concern: online schools for children. How do computers deliver instruction in a thoughtful, reflective manner, keeping the unique needs of each student in mind? How do computers (or online teachers) note the subtleties of a sigh, the flash of an eye, or a breakthrough moment on an individual's work or response? We know that one major key to learning is timely and specific feedback. Can a computer do that? How unique does our standardized world see our children? Where does quantitative meet qualitative instruction? Teaching more students as cheaply as possible doesn't make for creating an educated, democratic society.
My thinking: only in the uniqueness of instruction that can be provided in a live learning environment with a teacher who can see, hear, and touch each student, breathing the same air in the same physical space as the learning, can each student and teacher recognize how special they are and how much each and every human uniquely brings to our world. Living in a crowded world--or crowded classroom-- doesn't make us less unique; instead, it begs for us to have more appreciation for each other's differences than ever before.
The best teachers know this and uniquely deliver best practices to their students in order to build a love of learning and humanity. That's what our world needs now.
But as a coach, I've come to not only see the uniqueness in each grade level but in each teacher--indeed, in unique circumstances each year. Even when you teach the same grade level, each year is always different from the rest. The obvious reason is that you have different students. Most years are impacted by changes of standards and/or book adoptions that alter the materials primarily used to teach a given content area...some are teacher- and student-friendly while others leave us yearning for something better. Parents are different in how they interact with their children and teachers each year, sometimes supporting us in amazing ways and sometimes moving us to tears or frustration. Even our colleagues change over time. Evaluation procedures change, and ridicule from politicians adds to our stress. But what is constant is the idea that best practices can help us to become more effective while appreciating and addressing the unique learning needs of our students.
Even so, what must remain unique is our implementation of best practices, the human factor in teaching. Even a teaching manual that is chalked full of scripted "best practice" cannot create a lifelong learners; nor can it make anyone into a great teacher. What is unique about those we deem as great teachers? I think it is a combination of attitudes, including:
--A willingness to take risks in instruction, understanding that education IS theory that begs us to use our unique teaching spirits to mold it into what works best in any given class or with certain students. We try new approaches, reflect on what did/did not go well, and then we tweak the next lesson to improve the learning experience--all in the framework of our own unique ways of viewing our teaching, our students, and success. Each teacher's uniqueness in how s/he delivers best practices with any given class or student is what makes a classroom and learning experience joyful and alive. There is no curriculum, no script that can plan or dictate this. Only living, breathing teachers with human minds have the capacity to reach other humans in this way. This is where working with an instructional coach can help: a coach can guide you into seeing ways to keep your instruction true to your unique strengths and beliefs while meeting the pressing demands of day-to-day life at school.
--Being actively engaged with students by planning and delivering instruction that builds on what is known, provides support only as much as needed and at the precise moment that it's needed so that it is timely. We stretch students while planning support that lifts them, enabling them to grow. This is true of instructional coaches, as well; we are there to help teachers stretch while providing timely support and feedback that only another person walking in your shoes can provide.
This leads to another concern: online schools for children. How do computers deliver instruction in a thoughtful, reflective manner, keeping the unique needs of each student in mind? How do computers (or online teachers) note the subtleties of a sigh, the flash of an eye, or a breakthrough moment on an individual's work or response? We know that one major key to learning is timely and specific feedback. Can a computer do that? How unique does our standardized world see our children? Where does quantitative meet qualitative instruction? Teaching more students as cheaply as possible doesn't make for creating an educated, democratic society.
My thinking: only in the uniqueness of instruction that can be provided in a live learning environment with a teacher who can see, hear, and touch each student, breathing the same air in the same physical space as the learning, can each student and teacher recognize how special they are and how much each and every human uniquely brings to our world. Living in a crowded world--or crowded classroom-- doesn't make us less unique; instead, it begs for us to have more appreciation for each other's differences than ever before.
The best teachers know this and uniquely deliver best practices to their students in order to build a love of learning and humanity. That's what our world needs now.
Exercising Learning Muscles
“Exercise the writing muscle every day, even if it is only a letter, notes, a title list, a character sketch, a journal entry. Writers are like dancers, like athletes. Without that exercise, the muscles seize up.” ---Jane Yolen
Just this morning, a colleague and I were thinking about ways to help students to value practicing something that they THINK they already know; how do you help them to see that without practice, most any new skill weakens or becomes obliterated from your capabilities?
I think about what I know about this (as an adult/educator). I know that learners are more willing to work under certain conditions:
· The learning deepens existing areas of expertise through building on competence—starting with where I am/what I know and moving forward quickly
· Activities provide engaging, purposeful (“in the moment”) work that is appropriately challenging with enough time provided to allow me to do it well without time to get bored (brisk but not rigid). Does the learner see the activity or learning as relevant?
· Learning goals are clear
· Opportunities are provided to practice in a variety of contexts
· Feedback is immediate and constructive, perpetually and gradually moving me forward as a learner
· Learning is constructed through use of social relationships
· Choice is provided as often as possible
Interest plays a role and can be encouraged through inquiry and questioning as well as most every aspect of the above list.
There really isn’t such a phenomenon as “overnight success,” is there? Why don’t we talk about “gradual success” or “daily success”? If we learn from our mistakes or misconceptions, this implies that we must take action in order to learn—even if the action is imperfect.
When we are in a hurry—to complete a practice or even to create change—we often wonder why the learner simply doesn’t “just do it.” Wouldn’t that be convenient? J But when we think about what we know about creating conditions for learning, we can probably locate the struggle (beyond arrogance or laziness).
Sometimes the problem is time, understanding, feedback… and sometimes, in a moment, we just don’t see how this activity or learning is relevant to life—we think we’ll practice when we need it or when we feel like it on some other day.
Most of the gains and differences made in life start with baby steps, like choosing a healthy snack while dieting long-term… or jotting for 10 minutes in your writing notebook. These things ultimately make a difference by gradually building different habits in our lives; actions DO make a difference. Bit by bit, day by day, a life is built.
Learning, like life, is not really about the “big” moments—a wedding, a birth/death, a holiday, an anniversary—it’s about the daily living and choices that we make (and, hopefully celebrate) with each breath of each moment. That’s what defines who we are and who we will become.
In his book, LEADERSHIP GOLD: LESSONS I’VE LEARNED FROM A LIFETIME OF LEADING, John C. Maxwell advises, “Leadership develops daily, not in a day.” Isn’t this true about most everything? Certainly it’s true for writers, scientists, mathematicians, doctors—and, yes, teachers. Even conditions— depression, happiness, joy, weight gain/weight loss, saving money, gaining knowledge, etc., all occur over time.
Maxwell goes on to say, “You don’t need a lot of major breakthroughs to achieve dramatic results.” He contends that the toughest person to lead is YOURSELF.
So what will YOU do today to lead yourself and to define your life?
Just this morning, a colleague and I were thinking about ways to help students to value practicing something that they THINK they already know; how do you help them to see that without practice, most any new skill weakens or becomes obliterated from your capabilities?
I think about what I know about this (as an adult/educator). I know that learners are more willing to work under certain conditions:
· The learning deepens existing areas of expertise through building on competence—starting with where I am/what I know and moving forward quickly
· Activities provide engaging, purposeful (“in the moment”) work that is appropriately challenging with enough time provided to allow me to do it well without time to get bored (brisk but not rigid). Does the learner see the activity or learning as relevant?
· Learning goals are clear
· Opportunities are provided to practice in a variety of contexts
· Feedback is immediate and constructive, perpetually and gradually moving me forward as a learner
· Learning is constructed through use of social relationships
· Choice is provided as often as possible
Interest plays a role and can be encouraged through inquiry and questioning as well as most every aspect of the above list.
There really isn’t such a phenomenon as “overnight success,” is there? Why don’t we talk about “gradual success” or “daily success”? If we learn from our mistakes or misconceptions, this implies that we must take action in order to learn—even if the action is imperfect.
When we are in a hurry—to complete a practice or even to create change—we often wonder why the learner simply doesn’t “just do it.” Wouldn’t that be convenient? J But when we think about what we know about creating conditions for learning, we can probably locate the struggle (beyond arrogance or laziness).
Sometimes the problem is time, understanding, feedback… and sometimes, in a moment, we just don’t see how this activity or learning is relevant to life—we think we’ll practice when we need it or when we feel like it on some other day.
Most of the gains and differences made in life start with baby steps, like choosing a healthy snack while dieting long-term… or jotting for 10 minutes in your writing notebook. These things ultimately make a difference by gradually building different habits in our lives; actions DO make a difference. Bit by bit, day by day, a life is built.
Learning, like life, is not really about the “big” moments—a wedding, a birth/death, a holiday, an anniversary—it’s about the daily living and choices that we make (and, hopefully celebrate) with each breath of each moment. That’s what defines who we are and who we will become.
In his book, LEADERSHIP GOLD: LESSONS I’VE LEARNED FROM A LIFETIME OF LEADING, John C. Maxwell advises, “Leadership develops daily, not in a day.” Isn’t this true about most everything? Certainly it’s true for writers, scientists, mathematicians, doctors—and, yes, teachers. Even conditions— depression, happiness, joy, weight gain/weight loss, saving money, gaining knowledge, etc., all occur over time.
Maxwell goes on to say, “You don’t need a lot of major breakthroughs to achieve dramatic results.” He contends that the toughest person to lead is YOURSELF.
So what will YOU do today to lead yourself and to define your life?
Perseverance--Where Great Work Begins
“Great works are performed, not by strength, but by perseverance.” --Samuel Johnson
For several years, I have enjoyed collecting and thinking about quotes, so the Slice of Life quotes and words of the day appeal to how my linguistic brain works.
Today’s quote (above) appeals to me because I value perseverance as one of the top “mega skills” needed to change our lives for the better... and better... and better. Our best should be constantly evolving; although it might look different day-to-day, over time, bit by bit, we become better.
So today, I would like to share and reflect on some other quotes about perseverance because I find them motivating. A well-timed quote can cause us to take pause and look within ourselves for answers about who we really want to be vs. who we are today. The next step is figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B.
* * * * *
“Successful and unsuccessful people do not vary greatly in their abilities. They vary in their desires to reach their potential.”
― John C. Maxwell
Rick Warren calls this the difference between being successful and significant, saying that you can be successful (make money, have material possessions, be in a marriage, have children, etc.), without understanding the significance of your life. This is why so many people who seemingly “have it all” feel so empty. To reach the highest level of living is to recognize your purpose for being here—then you find significance. He says, “Being successful and fulfilling your life’s purpose are not at all the same thing; You can reach all your personal goals, become a raving success by the world's standard and still miss your purpose in this life.”
To me, this is the difference between how the world views success and reaching your potential. Regardless of the world’s message about success, we must persevere to reach our full potential. We need to find ways (and people) who help us recognize our potential and who will encourage us to find strategies for reaching it.
A blessing as a coach is that it is my job to help you fulfill your potential as a teacher. It’s not that I know more than you—not at all. It’s that I’m available to help you determine your goals, to recognize your potential by linking new strategies to what you know, and to provide support for stretching yourself into reaching them. It’s my job to help you succeed, by being another viewpoint—another brain and caring soul—whose purpose is simply to help.
A couple of teachers recently asked me, "How do I become a 'master teacher'?" Well, I'm not sure we ever master something so complex as teaching, but I do think we have to persevere in our quest to specialize as educators. Things I have found helpful as I persevere include:
* * * * *
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Humility is thinking more of others. Humble people are so focused on serving others, they don't think of themselves.” --Rick Warren
To me, thinking of others and focusing on their needs embodies what literacy coaching is all about. When I come to work each day (and yes, even in the “off hours”), I am thinking about what teachers need in order to reach their students while attaining their instructional goals.
I never feel comfortable; I never feel secure that any certain strategy will work exactly as planned or that any lesson will be flawless. Instead of seeking or believing that comfort or perfection exist in education, I think, instead, that our jobs are to decide which best practices make the most sense for the task, plan and put them into action, then examine our implementation of them to find where we can do better and to determine why--and then to build on that. The focus is always on the work of teaching and the outcome with students. The work itself is humbling and can only be done with humility…
* * * * *
Don Miguel Ruiz (THE FOUR AGREEMENTS) discusses always doing your best:
“In your everyday moods your best can change from one moment to another, from one hour to the next, from one day to another. Your best will also change over time… Regardless of the quality, keep doing your best--no more and no less than your best. If you try too hard and do more than your best, you will spend more energy than is needed and in the end, your best will not be enough. When you overdo, you deplete your body and go against yourself, and it will take you longer to accomplish your goal.”
He also quotes a Buddhist Master, "You are not here to sacrifice your joy or your life. You are here to live, to be happy, and to love… Do your best, and perhaps you will learn that …you can live, love, and be happy."
I wonder if we sometimes forget that we can live, love, and be happy if we persevere in giving our best every day, knowing that our best might look different depending on circumstances and situations. But if we trust and accept our best, we can live without guilt, self-judgment, regrets, or frustration. For many teachers, that would be the biggest gift they could imagine. As a coach, I can try to help teachers give their best, stretch their best, and imagine even more. If in doing so, their lives become more satisfying, more peaceful—all while becoming more cognizant of their magnificence and significance as teachers—then I will be humbled by the magic of our collaborative relationship… and that is the BEST.
* * * * *
For several years, I have enjoyed collecting and thinking about quotes, so the Slice of Life quotes and words of the day appeal to how my linguistic brain works.
Today’s quote (above) appeals to me because I value perseverance as one of the top “mega skills” needed to change our lives for the better... and better... and better. Our best should be constantly evolving; although it might look different day-to-day, over time, bit by bit, we become better.
So today, I would like to share and reflect on some other quotes about perseverance because I find them motivating. A well-timed quote can cause us to take pause and look within ourselves for answers about who we really want to be vs. who we are today. The next step is figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B.
* * * * *
“Successful and unsuccessful people do not vary greatly in their abilities. They vary in their desires to reach their potential.”
― John C. Maxwell
Rick Warren calls this the difference between being successful and significant, saying that you can be successful (make money, have material possessions, be in a marriage, have children, etc.), without understanding the significance of your life. This is why so many people who seemingly “have it all” feel so empty. To reach the highest level of living is to recognize your purpose for being here—then you find significance. He says, “Being successful and fulfilling your life’s purpose are not at all the same thing; You can reach all your personal goals, become a raving success by the world's standard and still miss your purpose in this life.”
To me, this is the difference between how the world views success and reaching your potential. Regardless of the world’s message about success, we must persevere to reach our full potential. We need to find ways (and people) who help us recognize our potential and who will encourage us to find strategies for reaching it.
A blessing as a coach is that it is my job to help you fulfill your potential as a teacher. It’s not that I know more than you—not at all. It’s that I’m available to help you determine your goals, to recognize your potential by linking new strategies to what you know, and to provide support for stretching yourself into reaching them. It’s my job to help you succeed, by being another viewpoint—another brain and caring soul—whose purpose is simply to help.
A couple of teachers recently asked me, "How do I become a 'master teacher'?" Well, I'm not sure we ever master something so complex as teaching, but I do think we have to persevere in our quest to specialize as educators. Things I have found helpful as I persevere include:
- Reading a lot! I love professional books. (My friends will tell you what a "cool nerd" I am; my daughter says, "You're the only person I know who reads textbooks for fun.") I love all kinds of books, from picture books to "chapter" books to novels to nonfiction on many subjects. I love magazines from People to professional journals. All of these shape my knowledge of literature, informational texts, and best practices.
- Writing a lot! In a world that seldom slows down for reflective practices, writing allows us a moment to make something so intangible--our thinking--visible. It helps us remember who we are and what we believe in any moment. Over time, we can see patterns in our thinking and build on them or work to change them. If we're really lucky, we can even work on the craft of becoming better writers.
- Seeking professional learning opportunities. As a coach, I attend workshops that teach me new things about coaching, literacy, and coaching literacy. I also attend workshops with teachers from my district so that we can mull over learning experiences together, imagining concrete ways to apply new strategies right away, as well as how we might sustain them over time. I work with a team of coaches from NE Indiana; we meet monthly to learn together, discuss challenges, and to celebrate successes. I also have the privilege of offering some PD opportunities for our district's staff, including longer-term coaching cycles, short-term instructional learning and coaching cycles, round table discussions, book studies, and more.
- Joining professional organizations. Our local reading council (Pokagon Reading Council) is a division of the ISRA and IRA. The best part has been getting teachers together from districts that encompass 8 counties and two states to enjoy dinners, fellowship, and learning from fellow educators.
* * * * *
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Humility is thinking more of others. Humble people are so focused on serving others, they don't think of themselves.” --Rick Warren
To me, thinking of others and focusing on their needs embodies what literacy coaching is all about. When I come to work each day (and yes, even in the “off hours”), I am thinking about what teachers need in order to reach their students while attaining their instructional goals.
I never feel comfortable; I never feel secure that any certain strategy will work exactly as planned or that any lesson will be flawless. Instead of seeking or believing that comfort or perfection exist in education, I think, instead, that our jobs are to decide which best practices make the most sense for the task, plan and put them into action, then examine our implementation of them to find where we can do better and to determine why--and then to build on that. The focus is always on the work of teaching and the outcome with students. The work itself is humbling and can only be done with humility…
* * * * *
Don Miguel Ruiz (THE FOUR AGREEMENTS) discusses always doing your best:
“In your everyday moods your best can change from one moment to another, from one hour to the next, from one day to another. Your best will also change over time… Regardless of the quality, keep doing your best--no more and no less than your best. If you try too hard and do more than your best, you will spend more energy than is needed and in the end, your best will not be enough. When you overdo, you deplete your body and go against yourself, and it will take you longer to accomplish your goal.”
He also quotes a Buddhist Master, "You are not here to sacrifice your joy or your life. You are here to live, to be happy, and to love… Do your best, and perhaps you will learn that …you can live, love, and be happy."
I wonder if we sometimes forget that we can live, love, and be happy if we persevere in giving our best every day, knowing that our best might look different depending on circumstances and situations. But if we trust and accept our best, we can live without guilt, self-judgment, regrets, or frustration. For many teachers, that would be the biggest gift they could imagine. As a coach, I can try to help teachers give their best, stretch their best, and imagine even more. If in doing so, their lives become more satisfying, more peaceful—all while becoming more cognizant of their magnificence and significance as teachers—then I will be humbled by the magic of our collaborative relationship… and that is the BEST.
* * * * *
The Goblin's Literacy Journey
A goblin lives in our house, in our house, in our house,
A goblin lives in our house all the year round.
He Bumps
And he jumps
And he thumps
And he stumps.
He knocks
And he rocks
And he rattles at the locks.
A goblin lives in our house, in our house, in our house,
A goblin lives in our house all the year round.
--Traditional French Rhyme
This poem is so obscure that I doubt very many people recognize it. But I love it, so here it is--and that's the point.
You see, I was the 5th child (of 6) in a working class family, growing up in the 1970s in north central Indiana. Storytelling was a popular pastime among my siblings, as was singing traditional songs.
When schools purchased new textbooks, the old ones were given to students to take home at the end of the year. Many of these were among the first books that I ever saw. Among them were the steadfast "Dick, Jane, and Sally" books-- books that I actually heard read aloud until I could read them independently, which I did quite fluently and with great satisfaction by the age of 5.
There were also a couple of old music textbooks, MAKING MUSIC YOUR OWN. There was a third grade edition that was orange. I l-o-v-e-d it. It contained such classics as "Oh, Susanna", "Polly Wolly Doodle", "Billy Boy", and my favorite song of all: "Don Gato". My siblings and I would often act out "Don Gato" as we sang it, opera style. The same was true of "Skin and Bones".
Most of the songs in MAKING MUSIC YOUR OWN were traditional and already familiar. Before obtaining a copy of the book, I knew many of them by heart, especially the first verses. When this book was discarded by the school and sent home, I quickly "made music my own" (as per the title) by claiming this book as mine! No one seemed to mind.
As I mulled over the familiar lyrics, I discovered that almost all of the songs had multiple verses--some were new to me. Looking back, I realize now that this promoted my reading, as I decoded the lyrics, I already had schema for the rhythms and rhymes, all that was left was to comprehend the meanings of each. I decoded, repeated, sang, repeated, until all of the verses sounded right. Then I practiced singing them often and received feedback from siblings who were willing to model and participate in singing them with me. Talk about building fluency!
On just about any nice weather day, my sister, Lynda, and I were likely to grab that old orange book and sit side-by-side on the front porch and belt out tune after tune--singing every single verse with abandon. When it was cold outside, this activity was moved to an upstairs bedroom (with the door closed so that my parents could have some peace). On especially carefree days, the bedpost would become our microphone. We'd take turns lying on the bed or performing into the bedpost. I even recall singing into the banister at the bottom of the staircase so as to entertain the family when I was particularly smitten with the verses of a new song, such as "Frere Jacques". Who needs "American Idol"?
Even grander was that at the age of 7, my mom made a purchase of a Magnus Chord Organ and a child-sized upright piano with a real maple cabinet. The chord organ required only reading numbers that were assigned to notes while simultaneously changing chords. This was slow going, and my brothers and sisters seldom allowed me to play in their presence, though they gleefully modeled for me--often. And when they were busy with other things, I practiced.
Our only songbooks for the organ were Christmas carols, and the pleasure of learning new verses (and, occasionally, new songs) was alluring, even on hot summer days when Christmas was far away. Again, I read and re-read the words, considered the rhythms, and this time tediously but joyfully banged out the tunes on the organ while singing as slowly and non-rhythmically as my playing ability demanded; this often required holding the deepest, lowest notes for 20-45 seconds until I could find the next key or chord. But I did not care; it was glorious, especially when you didn't have to listen to it... I wonder if THAT'S why my mom was always reminding us to open the windows when playing the organ?
The next challenge was attempting to play the mini-piano. It came with color-codes above the keys, and I suppose there must have been a color-coded book with simple tunes to tap out.
But I wanted to play the Christmas carols. Soon, I figured out the correlation between the keys and the numbers and started to beat them out on my piano... then I realized that I could also figure out how to "play" the songs from my beloved music book.
I'm sure that it was by no small coincidence that the mini-piano was also moved out onto our country porch on hot summer days... sometimes even into the yard underneath a large maple tree.
Now that I had broken TWO codes: the code for reading words AND the code for reading musical notes, there was no stopping me. The tapping out of tunes (which must have sounded a lot like the broom's playing piano in Chris Van Allsburg's THE WIDOW'S BROOM) and singing along with gusto persisted for several more years until the piano was outgrown and records on the new stereo slowly replaced the old chord organ.
Another literary lifelong love developed in those same years: the love of poetry. The music book contained poems, which I often re-read and even tried to set to music on occasion. My favorite was simply titled, "Hallowe'en":
Hallowe'en
by Harry Behn
Tonight is the night
When dead leaves fly
Like witches on switches
Across the sky,
When elf and sprite
Flit through the night
On a moony sheen.
Tonight is the night
When leaves make a sound
Like a gnome in his home
Under the ground,
When spooks and trolls
Creep out of holes
Mossy and green.
Tonight is the night
When pumpkins stare
Through sheaves and leaves
Everywhere,
When ghoul and ghost
And goblin host
Dance round their queen.
It's Hallowe'en!
Prior to this exposure to poetry, I had known nursery rhymes and even owned a nursery rhyme book and coloring book. But poetry like this opened an added dimension to the magical literary world that was rapidly unfolding in my childhood. I took notice of its similarity to lyrics... and marveled.
In the meantime, I had started school. As a first grader, we had a "resting period" that followed lunch and recess. I had a mat, blue on one side, red on the other, that I unfolded on the floor with my classmates. Sometimes, the teacher would read to us, sometimes there would be music, and other times there would be a story that was on a record. At Christmas, we even took turns "napping" near the class's Christmas tree. It was at the end of a 45 rpm recording of GEORGIE (by Robert Bright) that the publishing company had inserted some female voices eerily reading the poem, THE GOBLIN.
Once again, I was in l-o-v-e. The chanting about the goblin that lived in "our house" was just a little bit scary but in an acceptably tingly kind of way. I fell in love with the spine-chilling voices' rhythms and the spookiness of the image of this goblin that was wreaking havoc in someone's home... on dark, rainy days, I wondered if there was a goblin in MY house, but I didn't dwell too long on these childish wanderings.
Then came another life-changing day.
I was in the drugstore with my dad, and he gave me a quarter. (Back then, that would buy you a few things.) I took a walk down the toy aisle and realized that I could buy most any "Elf" or "Golden" book for 25 cents. I chose a lovely, pink copy of BUFFY AND THE NEW GIRL, a book about Buffy on the TV show, "Family Affair", which I had seen in syndication. When I told by dad, who was also a reader, that I wanted to buy the book, he gave me the extra penny or two for sales tax; and, PRESTO, my personal bookshelf and extraordinary reading habit began.
Soon, I started doing chores for my older sisters, often earning more than enough to buy a new book each week. I started planning my purchases, eventually saving a little more to make purchases from the school's book club orders.
The first one I ever bought from Scholastic was THE LITTLES HAVE A WEDDING... a beautiful, white chapter book about a little family that had dog-like tails. Perfect. I read and re-read it again and again. It was cherished.
Another favorite pastime was cutting out paper people from old catalogs. When the new Montgomery Ward, Sears, or Spiegel catalog arrived, my parents would donate the old one to the cause. There were two per year: one for spring/summer and one for fall/winter. Best of all were the bonus Christmas catalogs. These were treasured, descriptions of toys were read over and over, and our imaginations of Christmas morning far exceeded the reality of a few special toys and treats. We didn't mind. And when Christmas was over, that special catalog joined the ranks of those that were chopped into paper dolls for our playing pleasure. One year, we even found a perfect Santa paper person (modeling a Santa suit that was for sale, of course).
We cut out people and sometimes even animals so that our paper dolls could have pets. (I guess this was a predictor of my lifelong love of animals.) We wrote the names of the people (and pets) on the backs of the dolls, in ink, naming them the most lovely names we could think of, such as Elizabeth, Debbie, Lorena, Josie, and Daphne.
We often categorized them into families and placed them in certain areas of a rug or bedspread to indicate the locations of their homes. We played with those paper dolls, creating story lines with a lot of dialogue. They were so precious that we stored our collections in separate shirt-sized boxes, being careful to never bend or tear them. Now I know that this activity helped with storytelling, recalling storylines, characters' names, plots and settings--all excellent for building language and literary skills. It was even handy for understanding family terms, such as aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts, etc.
Looking back, it's easy to see how these experiences contributed so significantly to my literacy and, undoubtedly, to the fact that I grew up to be a teacher and literacy coach with a personal library of thousands of books. And, like my paper dolls, I am very sociable.
Despite not having a lot of money or exposure to a lot of literature, I was surrounded by activities that built my literacy--and, more importantly, my lifelong love of literacy.
I think sharing stories such as these about our own literacy acquisition can be powerful for our students to hear. Simple though my story is, so many times I see my students' eyes blazing as they beg to hear more about my little girl self, playing with old textbooks, making meaning of them, and developing as a reader.
They yearn for these opportunities but sometimes just lack the imagination to realize that they are right there, hiding in places they might not suspect, just waiting to be discovered and made into great literacy memories of their own... as a dream keeper, it's up to me to encourage the children to keep looking and to point them in the right direction.
A goblin lives in our house all the year round.
He Bumps
And he jumps
And he thumps
And he stumps.
He knocks
And he rocks
And he rattles at the locks.
A goblin lives in our house, in our house, in our house,
A goblin lives in our house all the year round.
--Traditional French Rhyme
This poem is so obscure that I doubt very many people recognize it. But I love it, so here it is--and that's the point.
You see, I was the 5th child (of 6) in a working class family, growing up in the 1970s in north central Indiana. Storytelling was a popular pastime among my siblings, as was singing traditional songs.
When schools purchased new textbooks, the old ones were given to students to take home at the end of the year. Many of these were among the first books that I ever saw. Among them were the steadfast "Dick, Jane, and Sally" books-- books that I actually heard read aloud until I could read them independently, which I did quite fluently and with great satisfaction by the age of 5.
There were also a couple of old music textbooks, MAKING MUSIC YOUR OWN. There was a third grade edition that was orange. I l-o-v-e-d it. It contained such classics as "Oh, Susanna", "Polly Wolly Doodle", "Billy Boy", and my favorite song of all: "Don Gato". My siblings and I would often act out "Don Gato" as we sang it, opera style. The same was true of "Skin and Bones".
Most of the songs in MAKING MUSIC YOUR OWN were traditional and already familiar. Before obtaining a copy of the book, I knew many of them by heart, especially the first verses. When this book was discarded by the school and sent home, I quickly "made music my own" (as per the title) by claiming this book as mine! No one seemed to mind.
As I mulled over the familiar lyrics, I discovered that almost all of the songs had multiple verses--some were new to me. Looking back, I realize now that this promoted my reading, as I decoded the lyrics, I already had schema for the rhythms and rhymes, all that was left was to comprehend the meanings of each. I decoded, repeated, sang, repeated, until all of the verses sounded right. Then I practiced singing them often and received feedback from siblings who were willing to model and participate in singing them with me. Talk about building fluency!
On just about any nice weather day, my sister, Lynda, and I were likely to grab that old orange book and sit side-by-side on the front porch and belt out tune after tune--singing every single verse with abandon. When it was cold outside, this activity was moved to an upstairs bedroom (with the door closed so that my parents could have some peace). On especially carefree days, the bedpost would become our microphone. We'd take turns lying on the bed or performing into the bedpost. I even recall singing into the banister at the bottom of the staircase so as to entertain the family when I was particularly smitten with the verses of a new song, such as "Frere Jacques". Who needs "American Idol"?
Even grander was that at the age of 7, my mom made a purchase of a Magnus Chord Organ and a child-sized upright piano with a real maple cabinet. The chord organ required only reading numbers that were assigned to notes while simultaneously changing chords. This was slow going, and my brothers and sisters seldom allowed me to play in their presence, though they gleefully modeled for me--often. And when they were busy with other things, I practiced.
Our only songbooks for the organ were Christmas carols, and the pleasure of learning new verses (and, occasionally, new songs) was alluring, even on hot summer days when Christmas was far away. Again, I read and re-read the words, considered the rhythms, and this time tediously but joyfully banged out the tunes on the organ while singing as slowly and non-rhythmically as my playing ability demanded; this often required holding the deepest, lowest notes for 20-45 seconds until I could find the next key or chord. But I did not care; it was glorious, especially when you didn't have to listen to it... I wonder if THAT'S why my mom was always reminding us to open the windows when playing the organ?
The next challenge was attempting to play the mini-piano. It came with color-codes above the keys, and I suppose there must have been a color-coded book with simple tunes to tap out.
But I wanted to play the Christmas carols. Soon, I figured out the correlation between the keys and the numbers and started to beat them out on my piano... then I realized that I could also figure out how to "play" the songs from my beloved music book.
I'm sure that it was by no small coincidence that the mini-piano was also moved out onto our country porch on hot summer days... sometimes even into the yard underneath a large maple tree.
Now that I had broken TWO codes: the code for reading words AND the code for reading musical notes, there was no stopping me. The tapping out of tunes (which must have sounded a lot like the broom's playing piano in Chris Van Allsburg's THE WIDOW'S BROOM) and singing along with gusto persisted for several more years until the piano was outgrown and records on the new stereo slowly replaced the old chord organ.
Another literary lifelong love developed in those same years: the love of poetry. The music book contained poems, which I often re-read and even tried to set to music on occasion. My favorite was simply titled, "Hallowe'en":
Hallowe'en
by Harry Behn
Tonight is the night
When dead leaves fly
Like witches on switches
Across the sky,
When elf and sprite
Flit through the night
On a moony sheen.
Tonight is the night
When leaves make a sound
Like a gnome in his home
Under the ground,
When spooks and trolls
Creep out of holes
Mossy and green.
Tonight is the night
When pumpkins stare
Through sheaves and leaves
Everywhere,
When ghoul and ghost
And goblin host
Dance round their queen.
It's Hallowe'en!
Prior to this exposure to poetry, I had known nursery rhymes and even owned a nursery rhyme book and coloring book. But poetry like this opened an added dimension to the magical literary world that was rapidly unfolding in my childhood. I took notice of its similarity to lyrics... and marveled.
In the meantime, I had started school. As a first grader, we had a "resting period" that followed lunch and recess. I had a mat, blue on one side, red on the other, that I unfolded on the floor with my classmates. Sometimes, the teacher would read to us, sometimes there would be music, and other times there would be a story that was on a record. At Christmas, we even took turns "napping" near the class's Christmas tree. It was at the end of a 45 rpm recording of GEORGIE (by Robert Bright) that the publishing company had inserted some female voices eerily reading the poem, THE GOBLIN.
Once again, I was in l-o-v-e. The chanting about the goblin that lived in "our house" was just a little bit scary but in an acceptably tingly kind of way. I fell in love with the spine-chilling voices' rhythms and the spookiness of the image of this goblin that was wreaking havoc in someone's home... on dark, rainy days, I wondered if there was a goblin in MY house, but I didn't dwell too long on these childish wanderings.
Then came another life-changing day.
I was in the drugstore with my dad, and he gave me a quarter. (Back then, that would buy you a few things.) I took a walk down the toy aisle and realized that I could buy most any "Elf" or "Golden" book for 25 cents. I chose a lovely, pink copy of BUFFY AND THE NEW GIRL, a book about Buffy on the TV show, "Family Affair", which I had seen in syndication. When I told by dad, who was also a reader, that I wanted to buy the book, he gave me the extra penny or two for sales tax; and, PRESTO, my personal bookshelf and extraordinary reading habit began.
Soon, I started doing chores for my older sisters, often earning more than enough to buy a new book each week. I started planning my purchases, eventually saving a little more to make purchases from the school's book club orders.
The first one I ever bought from Scholastic was THE LITTLES HAVE A WEDDING... a beautiful, white chapter book about a little family that had dog-like tails. Perfect. I read and re-read it again and again. It was cherished.
Another favorite pastime was cutting out paper people from old catalogs. When the new Montgomery Ward, Sears, or Spiegel catalog arrived, my parents would donate the old one to the cause. There were two per year: one for spring/summer and one for fall/winter. Best of all were the bonus Christmas catalogs. These were treasured, descriptions of toys were read over and over, and our imaginations of Christmas morning far exceeded the reality of a few special toys and treats. We didn't mind. And when Christmas was over, that special catalog joined the ranks of those that were chopped into paper dolls for our playing pleasure. One year, we even found a perfect Santa paper person (modeling a Santa suit that was for sale, of course).
We cut out people and sometimes even animals so that our paper dolls could have pets. (I guess this was a predictor of my lifelong love of animals.) We wrote the names of the people (and pets) on the backs of the dolls, in ink, naming them the most lovely names we could think of, such as Elizabeth, Debbie, Lorena, Josie, and Daphne.
We often categorized them into families and placed them in certain areas of a rug or bedspread to indicate the locations of their homes. We played with those paper dolls, creating story lines with a lot of dialogue. They were so precious that we stored our collections in separate shirt-sized boxes, being careful to never bend or tear them. Now I know that this activity helped with storytelling, recalling storylines, characters' names, plots and settings--all excellent for building language and literary skills. It was even handy for understanding family terms, such as aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts, etc.
Looking back, it's easy to see how these experiences contributed so significantly to my literacy and, undoubtedly, to the fact that I grew up to be a teacher and literacy coach with a personal library of thousands of books. And, like my paper dolls, I am very sociable.
Despite not having a lot of money or exposure to a lot of literature, I was surrounded by activities that built my literacy--and, more importantly, my lifelong love of literacy.
I think sharing stories such as these about our own literacy acquisition can be powerful for our students to hear. Simple though my story is, so many times I see my students' eyes blazing as they beg to hear more about my little girl self, playing with old textbooks, making meaning of them, and developing as a reader.
They yearn for these opportunities but sometimes just lack the imagination to realize that they are right there, hiding in places they might not suspect, just waiting to be discovered and made into great literacy memories of their own... as a dream keeper, it's up to me to encourage the children to keep looking and to point them in the right direction.
The Coach's Alphaboxes
Alphaboxes of Reciprocity of Caring in a Coaches’ Relationships—What You Should See or Strive to Accomplish Together
Many teachers I know use alphaboxes in several ways. They can serve as portable word walls, particularly for specific content area vocabulary or research projects. Sometimes these become the words in bolded print in the students’ reports, feature articles, or other projects. They might become a glossary or even mini-dictionaries. They can be a place to collect interesting words for writers’ workshop… and the list goes on and on. Today, I am using alphaboxes as a way to collect my thoughts about the ways that instructional coaches (and teachers, too) can show caring and cultivate the critical culture of trust. What would you add to the list?
A
accessible
affirming
accomplishments
achievement
appreciate
authentic
action
acknowledging
analyzing
assessing
B
books
best practices
beliefs
C
Collaborating
Co-planning
Co-teaching
Communicating
CARING
Collegial
Creating
Changing
Constructive
Comprehending
Conversations
Competent
Considerate
community
Connecting
Challenging
Celebrating
Conferring
Coaching
commitment
D
discussing
demonstrating
diligence
determined
differentiating
dolng
E
encouraging
experiences
effort
explaining
F
friendly
flexible
feedback
G
goals
genres
guiding
gradual release
H
honest
humor
humility
hoping
I
interests
implementing
improving
informing
improvising
imagining
insights
inspiring
invested
ideas
instruction
investigating
J
joyful
K
Knowledgeable
kind
L
learning
listening
laughing
leading
loving
literature
literacy
M
modeling
meeting
mindful
motivating
managing
mentoring
N
needs
note taking
noticing
O
Observant
Organizing
Opportunities
open
P
partnership
present
practical
potential
practicing
promoting
positive
perspective
peers
purpose
problem-solving
personable
prioritizing
possibilities
Q
questioning
quirky
R
reading
re-reading
responding
reflecting
resources
resourceful
representing
relentless
researching
respectful
recognizing
risk taking
S
supporting
scaffolding
studying
sharing
strategies
speaking
sustaining
self-evaluative
strengths
suggesting
seeking
smart
T
trusting
talking
thriving
thinking
time
teaching
team
trying
U
understanding
V
Viewing
Valuing
Voices
W
writing
willing
well-being
XYZ
Many teachers I know use alphaboxes in several ways. They can serve as portable word walls, particularly for specific content area vocabulary or research projects. Sometimes these become the words in bolded print in the students’ reports, feature articles, or other projects. They might become a glossary or even mini-dictionaries. They can be a place to collect interesting words for writers’ workshop… and the list goes on and on. Today, I am using alphaboxes as a way to collect my thoughts about the ways that instructional coaches (and teachers, too) can show caring and cultivate the critical culture of trust. What would you add to the list?
A
accessible
affirming
accomplishments
achievement
appreciate
authentic
action
acknowledging
analyzing
assessing
B
books
best practices
beliefs
C
Collaborating
Co-planning
Co-teaching
Communicating
CARING
Collegial
Creating
Changing
Constructive
Comprehending
Conversations
Competent
Considerate
community
Connecting
Challenging
Celebrating
Conferring
Coaching
commitment
D
discussing
demonstrating
diligence
determined
differentiating
dolng
E
encouraging
experiences
effort
explaining
F
friendly
flexible
feedback
G
goals
genres
guiding
gradual release
H
honest
humor
humility
hoping
I
interests
implementing
improving
informing
improvising
imagining
insights
inspiring
invested
ideas
instruction
investigating
J
joyful
K
Knowledgeable
kind
L
learning
listening
laughing
leading
loving
literature
literacy
M
modeling
meeting
mindful
motivating
managing
mentoring
N
needs
note taking
noticing
O
Observant
Organizing
Opportunities
open
P
partnership
present
practical
potential
practicing
promoting
positive
perspective
peers
purpose
problem-solving
personable
prioritizing
possibilities
Q
questioning
quirky
R
reading
re-reading
responding
reflecting
resources
resourceful
representing
relentless
researching
respectful
recognizing
risk taking
S
supporting
scaffolding
studying
sharing
strategies
speaking
sustaining
self-evaluative
strengths
suggesting
seeking
smart
T
trusting
talking
thriving
thinking
time
teaching
team
trying
U
understanding
V
Viewing
Valuing
Voices
W
writing
willing
well-being
XYZ
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