Category Archives: Education

Child in school staring out the window

Kindness and Understanding IS Discipline

Education, Educational Leadership

Last week, I accidentally clicked on the bookmark for this blog. I was gutted at the date of the last post. Really? Has it been THAT long? This is absolutely pathetic. I made a commitment right there to get back on the writing horse. I need this therapy now more than ever. 

Since January, I have taken a bit of a reflective journey on my educational beliefs. At least I have tried. As an assistant principal, I spend the bulk of my days in reaction mode. I am working with kids who have made poor choices, helping to solve problems from low staffing to actual mini catastrophes of nature. The stories that can be told by middle school assistant principals are often ones seemingly straight out of a sitcom. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. It just doesn’t leave a lot of time to plan and execute the systems of change about which I am so passionate.

It is no secret that education is seriously hard right now. The sheer amount of students who require far more time and resources than a school can provide is astounding. Difficult behaviors have always been a part of our days, but now there seem to be so many more students who just don’t know how to “do school.” We can blame parents, the COVID pandemic, learning loss, and even lack of staffing, but the truth is, we still have to find ways to reach these students. 

One system I am definitely passionate about is teaching behavior, especially since that is the largest part of my job. My partner and I have spent hours collaborating, creating, and revising lessons and applicable learning modules for student behavior. We have also spent even more time beating our heads against the wall for the 10 percent of students at our school who consistently cannot seem to stop breaking the rules. 

As much as these students continue to break our hearts, we know that their hearts and souls have been broken so many more times than ours. Each and every student that sits in our offices, be it mine, my partner’s, or our principal’s, we take the time to listen. We hear their stories. We hear their parent’s stories. The trauma and tragedy so many of these students have lived are completely unfair and no amount of detention or suspension is going to fix that.

Schools are criticized constantly for not taking a hard line on discipline. The things we have seen students do in the past few years are worthy of harsh consequences. I can’t argue with that, but no consequence a school can dish out is going to change behavior. Behavior is a form of communication. No student shows up to school wanting to misbehave. It is a reaction to some sort of lagging skill. (A GREAT book to check out is Lost at School which explains this way better than me). Schools have to focus on finding out what skills students are lacking– be it academic, social, or emotional– and create a plan that addresses those discrepancies. These students are lost and need guidance from adults to change.

I am fortunate to work at a middle school that has three amazing counselors for our 950 students, as well as two assistant principals. Along with our principal, we have a team that cares deeply for the well-being of our kids. We often wonder if we are too lenient with punishments because we know the trauma and hardships of our difficult students. To some, I’m sure we are. But I’d rather a student leave my office knowing someone cares about them, than the opposite. I treat my students as if they are my own children. You can disappoint me 500 times a day if you like, but I will still forgive you, love you, and route for you until the end.

So, as educators what can we do to “fix” what is happening in our schools? My answer: just keep trying to do whatever we can. That is all we can do. Well, and pray that our efforts will someday make a difference.

school bus

The Highs and Lows of Driving a Broken Bus

Education, Educational Leadership,

Recently, I was asked what I thought were my highs and lows of this school year. Taking a moment, I realized for someone who is normally reflective and contemplative, I had not even given myself the chance this year to do either. It seems that this year was more like driving a bus at high speeds, on fire, with its wheels falling off. No time to stop and think. No time to breathe. It was truly the hardest year of my 18 years in education. I know I am not alone in this. Please. Hug a teacher and anyone who works in schools. Just ask the custodians about the side effects of this year. Flying carrots, bags and packaged food debris, and the amount of food waste, made for extra messy campuses. But I digress.

I was able to quickly find my low. It was the only time where I felt it. I internalized it all. It was the only moment that I knew I could do nothing to help my teachers and students. It was the week of the mask protests. What started as five to eight kids in the library, quickly started to gain momentum. My admin team, counselors and I were taking turns trying to provide students with the curriculum. We were talking to our parents, trying to not make enemies of our families. Many of those conversations were not pleasant, with so many people filled with emotion. Yet, this was not our fight. We only wanted what was best for all children, while following the direction of the state. By day three we had over 50 protestors and by day five a quarter of our school was showing up in the multi-purpose room, ready to join. A few were truly protesting, but as these things go, many saw it as a way to hang out with their friends and not go to class. There was little learning happening that week. It was truly the most frustrating and lowest moment of the year.

Nonetheless, I will always remember the highs. These are too many to list, for sure. I can assure you that most include my admin team and counselors, as does the one that stands at the forefront. My biggest success this year was standing at promotion and looking out at so many faces of kids who grew academically and emotionally this year. In August, we had a fight on the second day of school. The second day! And it didn’t stop there. From fighting, to “Devious Licks” vandalism, to foul language and bullying, there were a lot of students who sat in my office, along with my partner’s, and my principal’s office. A lot. There were a lot of parent meetings. A lot of meetings with students and teachers. A lot of counselor referrals. A lot of tears were shed, parents and students alike. My partner and I learned more about restorative practices this school year than I learned during the last five years. We were fixing those bus tires while the bus was on fire and still moving. We began to get very creative with our thinking. We had students work with our Functional Skills classes, gaining empathy and responsibility. We had students research the history of words and apologize to other students that were hurt. There were days and months of students watching videos, reflecting, responding, and apologizing. For many students, appropriate behavior became their most important subject in school.

Our teachers were putting in overtime, too. Working with students to build relationships, reteaching expectations, and simply not giving up on kids. I must add as well that we have two new, phenomenal counselors on my site. In my career, I have never seen two people work as hard as those counselors did this year. (I keep telling them that it isn’t always like this!) The efforts we made with students were immense. I am so proud of the work we put in, the creative thinking involved and the commitment my staff had to meet the needs of every student.

I am so grateful for the work this year and the knowledge that resulted from all that work. Of course, I am looking forward to a smoother year, a year where the bus is already in good shape, and we just need to add gas. Although, if the bus happens to break down, I am not concerned. We have the tools ready to work on it!

Cartoon Panic

Zero Days Without Being Yelled At

Education, Educational Leadership

I have been reading a lot of articles lately about schools. None of them are shocking. Anyone who has taken a step in a school this year knows it. This is the worst year of education most of us have ever seen. The kids are not okay. The teachers are not okay. Even the overly patient para educators, librarians, custodians, and secretaries– none of them are okay. We are still in the midst of a global pandemic, trying to navigate what has happened before and what continues to wreak havoc. We keep trying to carry on and “get back to normal,” but we really need to stop and recognize, this year is not normal.

I made a joke once that I need a sign in my office where I can note how many days it has been since I have been yelled at, kind of like the OSHA signs for injuries in a workplace. I may not be able to note a day. My front office staff, some of the kindest and most understanding people you’ll ever meet, get hit the hardest. Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t complain about policies or Covid restrictions, often very unpleasantly. My staff smile and nod, knowing that the frustration is not personal. Still, it breaks my heart that they are treated this way.


Having this last week off to spend time with family and friends and being able to take a step back from things, I realized just how stressful school is right now. The muscles in my back actually relaxed a bit this week. Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. I get to have great conversations with students, help teachers with everything from tech support to class coverage, and basically problem solve all day long. It is never boring and usually quite rewarding. Nevertheless, more than ever educators are getting beat up. They are dealing with behavior from students that is unusually difficult to manage and time consuming. They are dealing with frustrated parents. Plus they have their own stress– with quarantines for their own children and the uncertainty of the availability of substitute coverage.

My point in writing this is not to tell the same story that schools are not okay, but to say, we must continue to support educators in any way we can. That means every person that works on campus. From the gardening staff to the attendance clerk, they all show up to serve our students. Each of them value an education for every child. We all want schools to stay open and continue to bring some normalcy to our communities.

Please, just be kind to all who show up to work.

And if you need to yell at someone, call your friendly assistant principal. You can yell at me. Anytime. I’ll gladly take it for my team.

Kids Jumping

Learning Loss is the Least of Our Worries

Education, Educational Leadership

“It is not important that my students like me. It is important that they respect me.” In 1995, when I went on my first interview for a teaching job, this was an answer I was instructed to give during my credential program. After decades in the classroom, and now two years in administration, I can honestly say how absurd that statement is and frankly, a load of crap. Students absolutely need to like a teacher, but more importantly feel loved in return. Otherwise, minimal learning will happen.

“I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It's my personal approach that creates the climate. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess tremendous power to make a student's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a student humanized or de-humanized.”-H Ginott

My oldest just graduated from high school. Yesterday, we were sitting around chatting and I asked her who her favorite teachers had been through the years. For each she mentioned, I followed up by asking her why. Overwhelmingly, her answers included words like “learned a lot in that class.” But she then continued to include ways the teacher showed kindness, understanding and created an environment of fun. When I ask students at my school the same questions, I get similar answers. Of course the ones sitting in my office because of an issue in class spill the opposite story. I can’t tell you how many times troubled students will say, “The teacher doesn’t like me.” While this can be unpacked a million ways, the truth is, this child does not have a positive relationship with the teacher. The teacher is not solely to blame, but as educators we at least need to seek out the reasons why.

How often do we have students who come to us broken? Too often. I recently read What Happened to You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing by Oprah Winfrey and Bruce D. Perry. Dr. Perry mentions it is estimated that anywhere from 30%-50% of children in the public school system have significant early trauma. Many students have never learned how to regulate themselves. I’m sure every teacher can picture a student like this from memory. We have tried so hard to get this student to do their work and not interfere with the learning of others. Unfortunately, we fail over and over. This student needs far more than the classroom teacher who gently encourages. This student needs a village, a community.

Now I am not going to spend days (because I could) explaining every small nugget I learned from this book. I will simply point out one– we as educators have an important job to do in building a community for all children. Dr. Perry emphasizes that to build resilience from trauma or even social isolation (which we have seen this last year), students need a group of people who help regulate them. They need friends. They need adult support. They need a community where they feel they belong. They need teachers who care about them. This is what we need to do the minute every student steps foot on our campus this fall: build a supportive community.

“Either we spend time meeting children's emotional needs by filling their cup with love or we spend time dealing with the behaviors caused from the unmet needs. Either way we spend the time.”-Pam Leo

As educators we know this. We do. But this coming school year the focus will likely be dealing with the “learning loss” of the COVID 19 Pandemic. We might feel overwhelmed to jump right into math and reading lessons. First, though, we must deal with the social deficiencies our students (even the ones who were on campus) endured this past school year.

So, on your summer to do list add: (1) Plan time to build community and relationships the first weeks of school and of course, (2) READ (or listen to) What Happened to You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing. Your students and you need it.

Man with hand held up like Darth Vader

Mind what you have Learned

EdTech, Education, Uncategorized,

In Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, during his Jedi training with Yoda, Luke has a vision of his friends in trouble, a possible future of their deaths. He decides to leave Dagobah and suspend his training to save Han and Leia. Luke is just beginning to understand his powers and control the force, but feels the pull to abandon that training because of the love of his friends. Yoda warns Luke that he is not ready. A Force Ghost Obi Wan also pleads with Luke, “This is a dangerous time for you, when you will be tempted by the dark side of the force.” 

My district’s board of education voted Thursday to return to school for five days, all students. While I’m super excited to see students again, I recognize, like Obi Wan, that many of us are not yet ready. This could be a dangerous time for us. And not just because of the risk of getting sick. The dark side of teaching is tempting us to return to a time before our training. A time where we didn’t use the tools available for us to provide equity and access for all our students. Like Luke’s time on Dagobah, our training has gone well during distance learning. Couple that with in person interactions with students in the classroom, that’s Master Level Jedi Teaching. 

As we return to our physical classrooms with students, we must be mindful of our training. Sure, it’s still going to be a bit weird with masks, distancing, temperature checks and sanitizing at hyperspeed, but we cannot forget all the Jedi tricks we used in teaching remotely. Those tools need to be brought into the classroom. 

So, what would Master Yoda, 2020 Teacher do? 

  • First, he would continue to post all his assignments in his Learning Management System (Google Classroom, Schoology, Otus). This ensures access for all students, even those who are absent. 
  • Second, he would keep making videos! Having lessons on a video so students can go back and rewatch and use closed captioning, gives so many more kids multiple opportunities to learn.
  • Third, he would keep using video conferencing. Holding office hours after school for small group interventions is such a powerful tool to reach kids who need a little bit of extra help. 
  • Next, He would use a backchannel. Ryan O’Donnell, my CapCUE buddy, said when he went back hybrid, he missed the chat in Zoom. Why not keep it up in the classroom? Use Padlet or even a Google Doc to keep the conversation going while you are teaching. 
  • Lastly, Yoda would not forget all the tools he used just to get kids engaged. Kahoot, Flipgrid, Desmos, PearDeck, NearPod, EdPuzzle, etc. have not only been effective in teaching skills and content, they have gotten kids excited about learning. 

As our districts move towards in person instruction, let us remember the words of Master Yoda, “Strong is Vader. Mind what you have learned. Save you it can.” You are a Jedi teacher. Just remember your training. Don’t be tempted by the dark side. We have learned so much over the last six months. Take it with you to the classroom. It will save you.

E-mc2 written on chalkboard

Distance Heroes

Education, Educational Leadership,

Today is National Teacher Appreciation Day, and it is my first as an administrator. I wanted to take a moment to share how enormously impressed I am with the teachers at my school, my district, throughout the state, heck the whole world! Being on the other side of the classroom, observing from the back, I am constantly impressed by the commitment teachers show each and every day to kids. Our kids. But now? Now, I am blown away with what teachers have done.With little notice, tech experience, or knowledge of the pedagogy behind distance learning (yes, it is different), our schools are open for kids, staffed with open minds and open hearts.

My admin team meets with our teachers (via Google Hangouts) weekly. When I ask teachers how I can help, the first answer is always, “Can you get the kids to complete work?” Getting kids to do any work and just show up has been such a challenge for most teachers. So many kids struggle doing work at home. Homes are either not a great environment or just have too many distractions. It’s hard for us as adults, but kids have a hard time even seeing the benefit of turning off Netflix, putting down the video game controller and learning about Reconstruction or the physics of a roller coaster. Of course, in the defense of all students, especially teenagers, it is Spring after all. 

Another significant struggle teachers are facing is that they did not sign up to be online teachers. They are in this job because they love building relationships with kids. As my neighbor told me about her 5th graders, “I wasn’t done with them.” They didn’t get to do the last three months of school which are truly the most fun for teachers. It is when students show us what they learned. It is the time of projects, presentations, and all the gems that fill teachers’ buckets. Spring is the best time of the school year. Hosting a Zoom call is not exactly the Spring showcase to a year’s worth of student growth.

Through this all, our teachers have been persevering. They’ve learned Zoom, FlipGrid, EdPuzzle, Google Classroom and all the ways to keep track of the onslaught of digital submissions and email threads. They’ve reached out to kids via phone, email and even driven to houses. Above all, teachers love their students. Quarantine isn’t going to stop that love from radiating from the homebound classrooms. Whether it’s from bedrooms, closets, or kitchen tables, teachers are proving once again that they are my heroes. So, thank you for caring, thank you for adapting and thank you for loving our kids. We appreciate you!

Hand up in tall grass

The First Five Months

Education, Educational Leadership, ,

The common theme on social media seems to be reflecting on this last decade. Well, this isn’t one of those posts. Yes, it is a reflection, but as an educator, Winter Break is the perfect time to take a moment, breathe and look back at the first half of the school year. (For the record, though, I had a pretty darn good decade–started it as a stay at home mom and finished it as an administrator. Crazy.)

After a long career as a teacher, I took the plunge in August and went to the dark side. I landed a sweet gig as an assistant principal at an awesome middle school in my district. Don’t get me wrong the “sweet” has nothing to do with it being easy. It’s just a great place to work. 

Still, I get asked often about my new adventures. Mostly, these three questions:

So, why did I do it? Teaching is amazing. I loved planning lessons and getting to know my students, among the many great things about the profession. In addition, I’m a systems person. I love programs that benefit all and are efficient for the implementers. Heck, that’s why I’ve always been a fan of Universal Design for Learning. I wanted to affect positive change on a larger level than just my classroom. Don’t get me wrong, I was always that squeaky wheel when I was a teacher, but now I have time to focus on bigger ideas and creating systems to help all. It’s incredible.

Is it what I expected? When I’m asked this question my answer is normally yes and no. I’ve been in education long enough to understand how things work at most levels. What I didn’t expect was how incredibly reactionary the job can be. You might start the day with a good size to-do list, but you may have five different situations that develop in the first hour. As a teacher, I was far more in control of my day. Honestly, though, I’ve grown to love the craziness. The spontaneity is one of the greatest parts of the job. It’s awesome.

Do I like it? Without a doubt, I LOVE it. I spend my days helping people: kids and adults. How many people can say that about their job? My greatest fear was that I wouldn’t get to build solid relationships with kids, like I did in the classroom. That fear was seriously off the mark. I get to have longer, more meaningful conversations with kids that really need those connections. I never had time for that as a teacher! It’s fantastic.

If it isn’t already apparent, I’ve had a pretty good first five months. I can’t wait to see what the next five will bring. Long live the dark side!

Red light saber
GooKingSword
Question Mark

The What-ifs

Education,

“Maybe we should have a weekly ‘what if’ session,” suggests my partner.

“I think we do that every day already.” 

When I began my journey into administration, I knew I’d like the challenge. What I didn’t know is that I’d like the job immediately. Usually transitions are met with fears, uncertainties and falling flat on your face. I was expecting all of that. What I didn’t realize was how I would have two team members who not only supported me, but who welcomed new ideas, enjoyed solving problems and truly loved their chosen profession. I could not have gotten any luckier than to work with my principal and partner, my other assistant principal. And you really should be jealous. These two are what I like to refer to as my “what-if people.” I can come to them with anything, and they will not only hear me out, they will add to my ideas, and truly try and create solutions that are good for all students. Because of this incredible optimism, positive changes are happening at my school and even within me. 

Picture of the 3 admins of Eich
My amazing team: the awesome AP Rich Chandler and Principal Extraordinaire, Darren Brown.

I have always loved working with people who are visionaries, who don’t scoff at new ideas, but try to make sense of them. This is one of the main reasons I was drawn to the CUE community. Hanging with CUE Lead Learners at events throughout the year fills my soul. I love how much I laugh and how much I learn just being near them.  I joined the CapCUE board (my Sacramento affiliate) mostly to be in the same room, discussing, problem solving and laughing with smart and innovative people. This is my tribe. These are my what-if people.

A few what-ifs at CapCUE’s Techfest last year.

So what exactly are what if people? These are people who don’t complain, but who are willing to hash out problems and look for solutions. Plus they do it with incredible optimism and open minds. These are the ones who are always seeking a better way for everyone, not just what is easier or what has always been done. They question. They ask why and follow that why with “What if..?”

What if we could have a system that engaged all students? What if we did away with detention? What if we gave teachers choices? What if programs worked for all kids? What if we listened to each other before we made decisions? What if…? 

What ifs can be scary. It means entertaining change. But it also means each of us is heard and others are willing to facilitate the discussion. It signifies a willingness to improve systems, curriculum, pedagogy, relationships and more. It means each of us is willing to grow. 

It is important to find your what-if people. Think about the people in whom you confide. Make sure a few of them are willing to listen and understand, not just quickly shoot down new ideas. Believe me. You will be happier and more fulfilled when you find one, two, or a whole gaggle of what-ifs. When we help each other grow, everyone wins. I am deeply thankful for all my what-ifs. Heck, I even married one. 

All Means All

Education

I was fresh off my extended maternity leave, eight years at home with my kids, and I landed a job at my former stomping ground. The caveat–while I could teach with my former team for just 80% of the day, still being able to take my son to a late start first grade, I would be sharing classrooms. Yes, plural. Four classes, four rooms. I was an itinerant teacher. Homeless. I commandeered a library cart filled it with my classroom supplies and pushed it throughout the day. I even purchased a BBQ cover for the days it rained, to keep my books and papers dry. 

Moving to four different classrooms meant teaching in four different teachers’ spaces. Each handled the invasion differently. One sat at her desk and simply ignored me and my class. Another would observe and offer advice to me as she felt necessary. One left me completely alone, disappearing daily even before I got to her room. The last, though, would work at her desk, while paying attention to the students. When she noticed a need, she would stop what she was doing and tend to the child, answering questions and giving feedback. At first I was completely annoyed by this. It threatened my pride. I had never been in any type of co-teaching model. I was supposed to handle MY OWN students. 

Lately I’ve been thinking about this teacher and what she taught me. One day, after a particularly difficult class period, where she stepped in and lent a hand, teary eyed from the exhaustion of trying to make a lesson work while managing challenging behaviors, I emphatically thanked her. She simply responded, “All the kids at this school belong to all of us.” 

These past few weeks, I’ve been thinking about the phrase, “All means all.” I know it applies to so much in the social media world: equality for all people despite orientation or identity, all are welcome, all should be included. In education, all means all can refer to the understanding that our programs and our day to day practices include every student. We must not just educate the ones that fit the traditional student mold, but children with special needs, English learners and more. All. 

As a new administrator, this is more evident to me than ever before. Every single student on my campus is entitled to equal access to curriculum and services. But as an assistant principal, who mostly deals with behavior, I am also learning the same lesson again from the teachers on my campus. Just the other day, I had a student who needed extra attention, just as the final bell rang. As I am sitting with the student, our woodshop teacher walks in, asking if he can help. He had heard on the radio that there was an issue. Without thought, he came to lend a hand. 

I am so grateful now, as I was back in my homeless teacher days, for educators who understand that schools are a community of all types of learners. I am also thankful for educators who know we are all in this together. Every student belongs to all of us. All means all. 

Pencil on notebook

The Write Reminders

Education, PD Reflections, Writing, Writing Project, ,

As many know, three years ago I spent a large chunk of my summer commuting to UC Davis, dodging bikes and squirrels and writing. There was lots of writing. I was lucky enough to be trained as a Teacher Consultant for the Area 3 Writing Project. Not only did I write, I also learned very valuable lessons on the pedagogy of writing, getting our students to write well, but also why it was vital that I write, too.

Last week I had a refresher. I took part in the Advanced Institute, where in just three days my head was full with incredible ideas of how to bring writing, REAL writing to our students. Authentic.(Mentor texts, people!) I was reminded of Donald Graves and his understanding of the process of writing, and how we butcher that process in school. Graves understood that writers need to write almost every single day–not just for the essay at the end of the grading period. Writing is not merely just the end. Writing is thinking, formulating thoughts and getting them out on paper or a screen. It is not always polished, and it is definitely not always good. Reading a passage from Graves, again, his work hit me as hard as the first time I read them: “If students are not engaged in writing at least four days out of five, and for a period of thirty-five to forty minutes, beginning in first grade, they will have little opportunity to learn and think through the medium of writing” (A Fresh Look at Writing, 1994). Graves goes as far to say that if you can’t commit to the time, don’t even bother teaching writing. Whew! That’s a tall order for a middle school teacher who only has her students for 45 minutes each day. So how do you fit it in? 

One of the best parts of my three days was getting to sit and discuss that exact question with a group of like-minded and like-frustrated middle school teachers. We discussed many viable solutions–starting the period with writing every day no matter what (which is what I have done the past three years), creating a system of centers to try and differentiate needs and meet with students. Kelly Gallagher and Penny Kittle tackle this same issue in their awesome book 180 Days (READ IT!). What resonated with me wasn’t just the solution in the English classroom, it was the suggestion of a systematic approach. Writing should be done across all content areas. The 35 minutes a day should not be just in the English classroom. In that case, how do we get our science, social studies and even math teachers to embrace writing? 

I think the answer is low stakes writing. Low stakes means the writing can be on the spot, not even graded, but a way for students to explore ideas, as well as for teachers to check in on their students’ understanding. It can be shared with peers or simply live in a journal. It’s low stress for students and creates fluency in writing. Non English teachers often think that they are not qualified or do not have the time to “teach” writing, but every subject requires writing. What is missing is the constant practice of writing in those classes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a science or social studies teacher complain about student writing. But would we expect an athlete to win a game without hours of practice? Plus, writing is thinking, right? Then let’s get students thinking and writing in all subject areas. Every. Day.

As I move into administration this coming school year, I am hoping the reminders of the importance of writing across the curriculum will stay with me. I know the lessons I have learned from the Writing Project will never leave me. Because of that, I will end this post with my favorite proverb from our writing retreats: If you are reading everything (or grading everything) your students are writing, then your students are not writing enough. I am now amending this to include all content areas.