Author Archives: Emma-Kate Schaake

Find Your Joy: Lessons from the Tennis Court

Find Your Joy:  Lessons from the Tennis Court

Coaching tennis this year has been a blast. We know all too well the seemingly insurmountable challenges and stresses of almost every aspect of our educational system. For me, hitting the tennis court after school these past few months has been life giving. 

The news feels heavy (it always feels heavy) so instead of diving into Uvalde, or Roe .v Wade, or the two year anniversary of George Floyd’s death, or the myriad other societal catastrophes, (which I do plenty on my Instagram)  I’m going to practice some self care and focus on something that brings me joy. 

Taking a leaf from Lynne’s book, here are some lessons that being back out on the court has taught me. Coaching, is of course, a kind of teaching, but I’ve been in awe of the broader gifts hitting this little yellow ball has given me. 

  1. You can’t win ‘em all 

No one wins 40-0, 6-0, 6-0. Not our girls who make it to the state tournament or even the pros. You’re going to give up points. In your classroom, you can do everything “right” and kids will still disengage, put their heads down, socialize instead of reading, or fail a class.

There’s often a top down narrative that if only teachers made lessons more engaging, built strong relationships with their students, or called home, then all students would want to show up and succeed. But, what if you’ve done all that? You’ve thoughtfully planned lessons instead of just recycling from years past, students know they can cry with you about a breakup, and you’ve connected with all families, but students still fail? 

Some things are simply outside of our control. Sometimes, your opponent aces their serve. Sometimes, a student is experiencing trauma at home bringing their focus to safety, not homework. 

This doesn’t mean you don’t do everything you can to get 100% of your students to succeed, 100% of the time. Of course you do; this is what good teachers strive for. It doesn’t mean you don’t practice serve returns and just expect to lose points. 

You’re just not going to win 40-0, 6-0, 6-0 or ace every lesson, every student, every day, 180 days a year. 

  1. Go easy on yourself 

When you lose those aforementioned points, you have to shake it off. 

It’s inspiring to watch our girls lose the first set, but battle back to win the next two, all because they didn’t give up or let the mistakes get to them. Tennis is an intensely mental sport and it takes some serious toughness to not let the double fault or shanked backhand throw you. 

Teachers have the weight of the world on their shoulders and it’s all too natural to feel pulled down by obligation, or even failure. But, your best learning opportunities are almost always when you take a risk with something new or relinquish control to your students and watch what they can do with it. 

So, go easy on yourself when things don’t exactly go according to plan. And don’t worry, that missed dropshot is just the first point. 

  1. Take your time

The best players don’t rush through their serves. They have a rhythmic routine (four bounces or jumping from side to side) and they take their time winding up for the perfect ball. 

Our equity team often discusses how educators tend to operate on “white guy time.” Or, more formally, it’s the “sense of urgency” found in white supremacy culture. For example, our work with the Nisqually tribe around our Thunderbird mascot is still in process since I wrote that piece in December. Faster isn’t always better.

Sure, sometimes lesson ideas come from the drive to work, but more often, you build units based on evidence of student learning and interest. There’s a reason 44% of teachers leave the profession within five years (and that was pre-pandemic!). It takes patience and persistent, thoughtful, reflective effort to stay in the game. 

  1. If it’s not fun, it’s not worth it 

This is perhaps the most important reminder I’ve gained this season. I ruined tennis for myself in high school by putting too much pressure on myself. Seriously, I didn’t play for ten years because I felt like I had to be the best or not play at all. 

It’s been my number one goal as a coach to help our girls not fall into that trap.

If anything in life is more stress than payoff, it warrants some serious reconsideration or a mindset shift at the very least.  

Many of my classroom procedures are in place to save myself a headache. For example, I’m flexible on due dates because I don’t want to arbitrarily punish students, but also because I don’t want that anxious feeling when 10 final essays are missing by the due date. I’m in education for the long haul and if I wind myself so tight that I’m constantly stressed, then it isn’t worth it. 

This is a tough lesson to give to educators right now as 55% of teachers are seriously thinking of leaving the profession. And, I don’t blame them. Several of my teacher friends have left with very valid reasons for doing so. 

Obviously, teaching is a job (something I think we forget as it’s so often labeled a “calling”) and it is therefore not going to be “fun” all the time. 

Our girls compete and obviously want to win matches, but tennis is first and foremost a game. It should be fun. Practices where they’re commentating for each other’s points in British accents are pure gold. 

***

So, as we wrap up the school year, the third tainted by the pandemic, I hope some of these reminders help you refocus and practice some self care. Remember, you can’t win ‘em all, go easy on yourself, take your time, and have fun! 

Constructing Equitable Schools: One Block at a Time

Legos for Big Kids

A few weeks ago in one of my classes, I used Lego blocks in a small group discussion. Each student was given a different color and they added to other blocks when they contributed to the discussion, asked a question, or started a new thread. 

My goal was to have every student participate and the legos as a visualization tool was meant to help them see their own contributions and monitor the flow of discussion within the group. 

I brought this up in an equity team meeting when we were planning our next staff training and the idea stuck. Though, it manifested in a more metaphorical sense for our district wide equity work

Constructing Knowledge

As with most schools around the state, and around the country, our building staff approaches the idea of “equity work” from very different perspectives. Some see it as essential to every part of teaching and learning while others are skeptical of equity practices. Some believe they are already meeting expectations, while others view the concepts as indoctrination or reverse racism. 

With that broad spectrum of thought, it’s a little daunting to plan a full staff equity training that everyone can find meaningfully learn from.

Let’s dig into the lego metaphor. 

As someone who is seen as “all in” on equity work, I think, sometimes, people think my beliefs, learning, and practices look a little something like this: 

Yellow could represent the podcasts and news sources I consume. Green might be how I vote. Blue could be the teacher leadership equity framework class I completed. Purple can stand for the shelf of antiracist and social history books I have read (and re-read) and red might show my work with student leaders.

Some may view my very linear lego tower as the only way to “do equity” and if so, then it’s not for them. 

But really, there are many ways to learn and construct knowledge. As educators, we know this. No two class periods are alike, even at the same grade level, with the same content. I am constantly revamping my curriculum because this years’ students need something different than previous years. 

We might all be given similar “blocks” of information, but we are going to make very different constructions, based on myriad factors like our perspectives, backgrounds, values, and experiences. 

They might consume very different or much more news than I do, so their yellow news block might actually be orange, or three times the size. Maybe they are the duck in the middle. 

Similarly, the tower with pink is different from mine, as that brain is probably bringing in entirely different experiences to their learning. I am a white, cis, straight woman, so my identity narrows and limits my lens.

My lego blocks create a tower that is incomplete, and just represents one way of learning and growing as an equitable educator. 

Widening Our Perspectives 

Often, our staff cites feeling frustrated that equity work isn’t going anywhere; “We’ve been talking about this for years.” They might be expecting a linear tower that leads somewhere like steps on a staircase. But, while we are always building on prior knowledge, this work is far from linear. 

Similarly, staff want concrete action steps to feel fulfilled and successful. They might take in the information in our training, but want action steps; “Okay, so what do I do about that?” Teachers are used to problems with solutions; lesson plans with measurable outcomes. 

But, the reality is, box checking equity or “checkquity” work isn’t lasting, effective, or substantial. 

Staff disengage when they feel like they don’t have a seat at the table, just like our students do. So our hope with introducing this lego idea is that our staff would widen their perspectives and –to add yet another metaphor here– pull up a chair. 

We want them to give themselves the grace for not having a full tower, or even a tower at all. Making a square, a triangle, or even a duck is a valid form of engagement and learning. 

There’s no one right way to do equity work. As long as we’re doing it. 

Student Equity Summit

This fall, all of our students had the opportunity to take perception surveys in their homeroom through a program called Panorama. The results gave us invaluable data that our leadership teams have been digging into for months.

The biggest take away has been, perhaps unsurprisingly, that we need more student voice in our equity and leadership work. As I wrote last year, students joining our staff equity team was a powerful experience and we’ve seen student leadership continue to grow from that first meeting.

This fall, we hosted a Student Equity Summit with speaker, author, educator, and consultant Erin Jones at the A.S.H.H.O cultural center in Tumwater. Eating food together, being in community, and learning from each other outside of school in a nonwhite space was eye opening for students and adults.

The last thing we wanted to do was lose the momentum of that day, so we hosted a second summit in February where we gave students a chance to dig into the Panorama data and have conversations about their experiences at school. 

We asked students from the Social Equity Club, which I advise, to plan the event and they chose the data they thought were the most interesting and gave input on our student edition of Speak up at School training. They were just as excited as we were to launch and to hear from their fellow students.

The morning of, donuts at the ready, we gave students the results and asked them: What do you notice about this data? Why do you think this is occurring on campus? Does this match your experience? 

Right away, their answers were insightful. 

The first question “How fairly do students at your school treat people from different races, ethnicities, or cultures?” had results that were 66% favorable and students were quick to dissect those numbers. Many wanted to disaggregate the results because as students of color, they definitely felt they didn’t fall into the 66%.

Next, we looked at the question “How often do students at your school have important conversations about race, even when they might be uncomfortable?” which was only 42% favorable. The overwhelming consensus was that students and educators alike are afraid to have these tough conversations. All teachers across the district have been trained with Speak up at School, but these students told us they haven’t seen a change. 

“People think their comfort is more important than someone’s safety,” one student wrote. “If you never talk about it or be in that uncomfortable place, you’re never going to grow or get out of your bubble.” 

Our third question had abysmally low results; only 23% favorable. “How connected do you feel to the adults at your school?” Students were clear that it’s obvious when a teacher really cares, (“when they have your heart” as one student put it) but many feel they don’t think teachers understand their experience outside the classroom, especially around issues of race or their cultural experience. 

We left the summit with piles of sticky notes, key insights, and a whole new set of questions like puzzles to solve. 

Before the summit, we adults had parsed through the data, but the morning clearly showed us that without student input, we’re probably missing the forest for the trees. Using the last question as an example, we’re now asking ourselves: What does it actually mean for students to feel connected to the adults in the building? How would they define connectedness? And, perhaps most importantly, is that even what they want? 

No one knows the student experience better than our students and while we want to solve problems for them, it’s key that we remember, they are our best problem solvers. 

On the heels of this event, the Social Equity Club is planning what they want to do next (board meetings and summit 3.0 here we come!) and they’ve been clear about the nonnegotiable changes they want to help enact. If we adults continue to ask students to show up, be vulnerable, share their experiences, and contribute their ideas, we’d better be prepared to listen, learn, and make real change.

The Freedom to Read

Censorship Gone Wild 

There have been a plethora of school library censorship and banned book stories lately. Unfortunately ,there are too many to list, but here are a few highlights that may have graced your news feeds. 

A school district in Tennessee banned the graphic novel Maus by Art Speiglman over concerns of profanity and female nudity. 

Another in removed Toni Morrison’s first novel, The Bluest Eye from library shelves for obscenity. 

Texas, perhaps unsurprisingly, has a whole host of books their officials want to ban, an overwhelming amount of which feature LGBTQ+ characters and themes. 

Librarians have been accused of poisoning young minds, buying pornography, and indoctrinating students. 

One of my favorite frequently banned books, Stamped by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi, prominently placed in our library’s Black History Month display. 

In the midst of all of this, it would be easy for Washington educators and librarians to rest on our laurels, grateful not to be working in one of these states with high profile cases. After all, Washington is liberal and progressive, right? 

But, when a colleague sent me this article on Book Riot, “LGBTQ+ Books Quietly Pulled from Washington State Middle School” I was reminded that issues of intellectual freedom and censorship in school libraries are everywhere. Stories like this one that don’t make national headlines are even more unsettling for their insidiousness.

In Our Backyard 

In Kent, The Cedar Heights Middle School librarian, Gavin Downing, was deemed to have “sexually explicit” books on his shelves. The principal pulled books from the shelves, insisted that she monitor all future purchases, and created a council at school to advise Downing on “age appropriate material.” 

It all started with Jack of Hearts by L.C Rosen about an “unapologetically queer teen” who “celebrates the freedom to be oneself, especially in the face of adversity.” If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo, an award winning novel about a trans girl, and All Boys Aren’t Blue, a memoir by LGBTQIA+ activist George M. Johnson, were also discussed at board meetings and removed. 

Kent has a board policy to “revolutionize school libraries” across the district but clearly,  censoring queer voices is out of alignment with the third phase of their plan which seeks to “reinforce equity and excellence.”

I can’t help but draw parallels to Texas where 59.95% of the 850 books on the governor’s banned list feature LGBTQ+ characters. 

In Defense of Libraries 

I am an English teacher, so it’s perhaps unsurprising that I take the freedom to read very seriously. I have also been unspoken about the fact that I think we need to update our curriculums to reflect a more accurate, diverse, and empathetic world view

Additionally, this year, I’ve been a librarian half the day, a move that has encouraged me to pursue my library media endorsement, with the hopes of becoming a full time school librarian.

In preparation for one of my classes, I researched Library Bill of Rights and the American Library Association makes it clear that the principles of the bill apply to school libraries. 

The American Library Association’s Library Bill of Rights.

The ALA has a series of interpretations of this bill and there are a few principles that stood out to me in regards to both local and national censorship. 

Intellectual Freedom: School librarians are leaders in promoting “the principles of intellectual freedom,” and must empower students with “critical thinking skills to empower them to pursue free inquiry responsibly and independently.” 

In the Cedar Heights Middle School case, the removal of books from library shelves limits free and independent inquiry. Remember, we aren’t talking curriculum here, but simply books that students have the freedom to read on their own time. 

Diverse Points of View:  Collection material should “represent diverse points of view on both current and historical issues” and “support the intellectual growth, personal development, individual interests, and recreational needs of students.” 

Representation matters. Books by and about the LGBTQ+ community can be powerful mirrors into students’ own experience or windows to foster empathy. I’d argue the titles that were removed from Cedar Heights could have played an integral role in students’ “intellectual growth” and “personal development.” 

Political Views: The resources in the library should not be constrained by “personal, political, social, or religious views” and school librarians should resist efforts of outside groups to “define what is appropriate for all students or teachers to read, view, hear, or access.” 

It’s no coincidence that the books banned in Kent were all written by and about members of the LGBTQ+ community. As long as those individuals continue to face discrimination, their existence and their stories will remain politically charged. 

Rights of Minors:Children and young adults unquestionably possess First Amendment rights, including the right to receive information through the library” and equitable library access should not be abridged by “chronological age, apparent maturity, educational level, literacy skills…”

Librarians are tasked with using their expertise in areas of literacy and adolescent development to fill their shelves. They are uniquely positioned to help their patrons explore those materials and think critically. Students are exposed to more than ever before online, and libraries are a safe place for them to explore a variety of resources with the guidance of a caring adult.

Parental Responsibility “Parents and guardians have the right and the responsibility to determine their children’s—and only their children’s—access to library resources. Parents and guardians who do not want their children to have access to specific library services, materials, or facilities should advise their own children.” 

While I can see why some content might be deemed too mature for young readers, all of the books facing removal at Cedar Heights are highly vetted, award winning, and deemed important young adult texts. As an educator who has, at times during this pandemic, felt more like a babysitter than a teacher, I very much appreciate the focus on families’ individual choices. 

What’s Next? 

I wish I had answers during these “polarizing” and “unprecedented” times. Maybe, some day, we can live in a more harmonious political climate and experience some mundane, precedented news stories, though I’m not holding out hope. 

However, as an educator, English teacher, and aspiring school librarian, it’s clear to me that the challenges we’re facing around intellectual freedom warrant our full attention. 

So, pay attention to your school library and the books filling it’s shelves. Does your librarian curate a collection that is representative of your students’ needs? 

Tune into your local school board meetings and contact the members. (The Book Riot article has contact information for Kent board members if you want to help the situation in Cedar Heights ). 

Have conversations with your principal and colleagues. Where do they stand on issues of censorship and equity? 

Our students deserve the freedom to read and we should never stop fighting for that right.

Native Mascots: Appreciation not Appropriation

Tumwater Thunderbirds

In early 2021, the Washington legislature passed House Bill 1356 banning the use of native mascots in public schools.

Tumwater High School, where I’ve taught the past five years, has the logo of the Thunderbird and sits on Nisqually land, at the intersections of Cowlitz, Coast Salish, and Squaxin lands. 

 Part of the bill, aiming to build relationships between the tribes and school districts, specifies that mascots can be used, but only through consultation with and approval by the nearest tribe. So, when it passed, our school board formally met with the Nisqually tribe to discuss and reevaluate our use of the Thunderbird.

The most used mascot is what our admin affectionately calls “the fat chicken,” which has no visible ties to its native heritage. But, walk our hallways and you’ll find various nods to native art, including a questionable totem-esque logo and letterhead. 

As one especially observant incoming freshman said in passing during summer school, “The amount of cultural appropriation in this school is astonishing.” 

With several high profile public team changes, like The Washington Team, this student, and the members of our THS Social Equity Club are well versed in the inappropriate use of native mascots. They are more than willing to have tough conversations and explore necessary changes.

A student leader of the Social Equity Club, THS senior Sophia Ruiz explained the significance of the bill; “We are ever growing and changing, we need to honor the heritage that stems from the Thunderbird.”

However, alumni grumbled (“tradition” and all), and I was more than a little worried about backlash to the law. Righting wrongs isn’t usually comfortable and Tumwater has its fair share of negative press around equity work. 

Don’t Forget the Water

On December 16th, a new era of the Thunderbird, one honoring it’s Nisqually heritage, was born. 

Board members, district leaders, administrators, teachers, and student representatives were invited to the Nisqually Tribal Center for their official council meeting granting us use of the Thunderbird. 

As the advisor for the student Social Equity Club, I was able to accompany my students to this historic day. 

Willie Frank III, Chairman of the Nisqually tribe, who has played an integral role working with Thurston county schools around this issue, thanked us all for being there and said the chambers had never been so full. He shared the legend of the Thunderbird and its significance in the area at the base of Mt Rainier. 

He explained the story of Teqwu? Ma? (“Don’t forget the water” in English) and wrapped two students in blankets with Mt.Rainier and that saying to signify our continued relationship. 

Sophia was one of the students who was presented with a blanket, and I got goosebumps watching tears well up in her eyes. 

“That day struck me as powerful and emotional,” she told me. “I was ecstatic that they were getting the recognition they deserve and were finally seen in the way they were always meant to be; important and beautiful.” 

Our next steps as a school is to brainstorm ways to honor the Nisqually tribe and Thunderbird in more than just name and likeness. Should we say a land acknowledgement before every home game? Can we commission tribal artists to fill our spaces? Is our social studies curriculum inclusive enough of native history of our region? 

“I want the school to be socially appreciative, not appropriative,” Sophia said. “Their tradition and livelihoods are… unique and special and they deserve the utmost respect from those that still use the Thunderbird. They deserve respect from everyone regardless.” 

I couldn’t agree more. 

Choice Reading: Create Readers, not Sparknoters

Choice Reading or Bust

Choice reading is the hill I’m willing to die on. I said it my first year of teaching, rather glibly, but I still believe wholeheartedly in the practice. 

Choice reading, SSR (sustained silent reading) or the like, often goes away after middle school, as the pressure of curriculum inevitably mounts. But, I don’t think the pressure to read and analyze Lord of the Flies is alleviated by removing choice reading. 

Students build reading stamina by reading what they want, not by Spark Noting something they have no interest in.

Instead, according to a graduate paper at Bridgewater State University, and what I have seen anecdotally in my own classroom, “When given more choice, students respond more positively, feel motivated to read and are more likely to engage in class discussions and activities.” 

Although I am definitely the kind of English teacher that would like to do away with the canon and textbooks altogether, I also know that as an employed professional, there are many rules I can bend, but a few I probably shouldn’t break altogether. 

Enter, choice reading. 

High-Engagement, Low-Stakes 

Choice reading is definitely not a new concept. The National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) has a statement supporting it, claiming the benefits for reading stamina, language development, and cognitive challenge. 

NCTE explains that, “Student choice in text is essential because it motivates, engages, and reaches a wide variety of readers.” 

Even if I had unlimited funds to buy new books every year, it would still be nearly impossible to choose a few whole class novels that truly fit the “wide variety of readers” in my classroom. 

NCTE goes on to explain that choice reading is meant to “build habitual readers with conscious reading identities” and allow students to “practice reading skills in a high-engagement, low-stakes environment.” 

I take this focus to heart in my classroom.  

We read every Friday, and students don’t need to do anything other than read and answer a quick reflection. I implemented the reflection this year, a simple Google form, as a way to help them track what they read. I also always throw in a question that helps me do an SEL check in (What are you proud of this week? What’s something you’re going to do to take care of yourself this weekend?)  

At the end of the quarter, they need to have finished at least one book. Then, they do a book talk with our librarian. She asks them a few comprehension and interest questions and picks a passage for them to explain. We do these talks in small groups to help students practice speaking in front of peers and normalize talking about what we’re reading. 

And, that’s all the accountability I ask for. I don’t have page number requirements and, yes, graphic novels absolutely count. 

Create Readers, not Sparknoters 

While some of my colleagues argue that reading certain texts shouldn’t necessarily be fun, students just need to learn how to “buckle down” and focus, I’m too much of a realist to agree. I know that “buckling down” might look like Googling a summary, which doesn’t solve anything.

Teaching the canon, and only the canon is a classic (no pun intended) case of pounding a square peg into a round hole. 

Edutopia writes that “the disconnect between the canon and its intended audience has become an epidemic, driven by rapid changes in the composition of American schools and the emergence of always-on digital platforms that vie for kids’ attention. By middle and high school, teachers concede, many of today’s students simply aren’t reading at all.” 

All educators know that these “digital platforms” have increased exponentially since that article was published in 2019. We are constantly vying for our students’ attention, desperate to pull them away from their screens.

So, when a student walks into my room on Friday, pockets their phone and says, “Oh, yeah, it’s choice reading day. Sweet!” I can’t help but call that a win. 

The Joy of Reading 

My goal as an English teacher is to create lifelong readers. They don’t all need to love reading novels or highlighting nonfiction like I do. But, they will all have myriad opportunities to flex their reading muscles in almost every facet of their lives–from job applications to voters pamphlets. I believe the attitudes and practices I foster around reading are critical. 

I’ve been teaching for six years, and every year, I hear so many responses from students like this: 

“I have always hated reading, but I actually like this one.” 

“Ms. Schaake, this is the first book I’ve actually read since like second grade.” 

*laughs during silent reading* “I can’t believe I just laughed. Out loud. To a book.” 


“Reading is like, cool, because you’re sort of making a movie in your head, you know?” 

My favorite so far this year comes from a student who’s very vocal about his ADHD, dislike of reading, and desire to be a Navy Seal. 

“I’ve never really felt empathy for a character in a book before. But, I seriously feel what he’s going through. I can’t put it down.” 

In today’s politically divisive, persistently digital world, we could all definitely also use more empathy, and more time to read. 

Testing is Inequitable, What Else is New?

Testing’s Back, Back Again 

Last year, when Washington decided to delay standardized testing, I was ecstatic. I wonder why we give students high stakes tests at all, let alone during a global pandemic. These tests’ measurement of student learning are suspect in the best of circumstances, so testing during a global pandemic seemed laughable. 

Plus, when we would have tested last spring, we were just starting hybrid learning and class time was a precious, rare commodity after a year of online learning. 

But, as promised, these tests came back with a vengeance this fall. As a part of my new part time role in the library, I was tasked with coordinating and administering these tests. I like a challenge, and I enjoy system level thinking, but as someone who fundamentally disagrees with high stakes tests as measurements of students’ ability, the irony was not lost on me. I felt like “the man.” 

To “make up” for last year, we ended up testing almost double what we’d normally do, taking care of delayed middle schoolers with our ninth graders and the skipped sophomores with our eleventh graders. 

To add insult to my personal injury, there are still graduation waivers in place (thankfully!), so these tests aren’t exactly necessary. At all. 

So when a student asked me “Is this graded? No? Oh, so, I could just click random buttons and get out of here?” it was hard to find a way to say something other than “Well, sort of. But still try your best. Please.” 

Inequities in our Systems

Because I have only administered tests in the past for my sophomore English students, coordinating across the whole school gave me real insights into the inequities baked into the tests themselves. 

For instance, most of the students who struggled even logging in were students of color. Several of our Black students have names with apostrophes or “non-standard” spacing and many of our Hispanic students have multiple first and last names. So, it became a guessing game to find which parts of their name the state recognizes as legitimate. 

One of these students with emerging English proficiency was doing his best to take three subject tests but the program didn’t even acknowledge his name. From step one, our “standardized” tests are telling them they don’t belong. 

Then, once we got the test rolling, the stress and utter bewilderment I saw, especially from students in IEP English and math, was heartbreaking.

One raised her hand and asked me, eyes wide, “What am I supposed to do? I have never seen this before and have no idea what to do. I haven’t been taught this.”

Students received the accommodations we’re legally required to give, but an “alternate testing space” is not going to make up for the content of the test themselves. That won’t alleviate the pressure they feel in a silent room, staring at a computer screen that is supposed to tell them how smart, or how behind they are compared to their peers.

Kindness Isn’t Enough

We have a lot of conversations in our building around equity and a lot of the pushback we regularly receive from staff is about kindness. Many believe that because they are kind to all their students, they don’t need to look at how racial, gender, sexuality, or ability identities impact their classrooms. 

Of course, kindness is an incredible value we should all practice. Our staff is loving and kind, but those traits alone can’t remedy the inequities in our system. 

Being kind does not increase the number of students of color who take AP courses.  Kindness does not diminish opportunity gaps that lead to graduation rates that are equitable across demographics.

My state testing experience this year has been illustrative of the need to use our equity lenses in every facet of our schools. 

One teacher can have an incredibly meaningful lesson plan, but what about the students across the hall, who aren’t in her class? If a student’s name isn’t recognized by a computer system, is it pronounced correctly by the adults in his life? Does that student in IEP math know what her strengths are and have hope for her future? 

Unless a mandatory, standardized test can do all those things, I’m not at all convinced we should use our precious time, resources, and brain power administering them. What if we channeled all of that energy into coming up with some sort of portfolio system to give the state and federal government its data? 

Even the inventor of standardized multiple choice tests, Frederick J Kelly said “These tests are too crude to be used and should be abandoned.”

Based on my experience this year, I wholeheartedly agree with him. 

Relationships First

I’m pretty tired of the term “unprecedented.” At this point, I think educators are just ready to expect the unexpected. Our amazing team of custodians has a saying to cope with each new challenge: “well, it’s normal for this year.” 

Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of uncertainty approaching this school year. How will our community respond to the mask and vaccine mandates? Can we continue to push forward our equity work amidst CRT controversy? What will we do about the inevitable positive cases? How will we sustain our personal mental health and energy in order to make this year a success?

Though we can’t have answers to those questions without living through them, there is one thing I was certain of starting the school year: relationships first. 

Steps Toward a Restorative Classroom 

I’ve heard that phrase “relationships first” in educational spaces so much it has almost become cliche. But, that doesn’t make it any less true, especially this year. During this pandemic (past and present), we know our students have experienced trauma, unsafe homes, isolation, and depression. We know they are coming to us carrying those burdens, and they’re doing their best to cope with omnipresent anxiety, on top of the “normal” stresses of being a teenager. 

This year, I really wanted to challenge myself to make my classroom as student focused as possible. I have always been interested in restorative practices and after I attended a zoom training with the International Institute of Restorative Practices last spring, I set a few goals for myself, starting with setting our classroom community from day one. 

Classroom Circles 

I’ve tried a few classroom circles in the past, but never with any sort of regularity or fidelity. So, this year, I decided to start every class with one. Every single class. Every single day. 

I was nervous the first time, but I was pleasantly surprised by how my students came along with me.  

I have my tables arranged so we can stand in a circle, facing one another, and we pass a little stuffed unicorn (because, why not?) The first time we go around, we say our names and answer the question, without explanation. Then, in round two, they have a chance to expand on their answer. I’ve found this gives students who might not have a quick answer time to think and they can also borrow from their peers if something they said resonates. Saying, “yeah, what Brayden said” is a sneaky clue that they’re practicing active listening and building connections with one another. 

It’s early, but so far, no one has refused to participate (though I did have a teacher anxiety dream where they all stormed out!). Sometimes, students say “I don’t know” and I make sure they know that’s okay. Not every question will resonate with every person, but I try to cover a wide range of interests. 

We then do one last whip around with a quick either/or question before settling back into our seats. 

I have questions ranging from the surface, but very controversial, pancakes or waffles to some that are slightly more revealing like “When you were little, what did you want to be when you grow up?” We’ve also done one word check-ins that can take the temperature of the room in seconds.  

It’s fascinating to watch their personalities come out, even in just the first few weeks. You can tell so much about them not just by what they answer, but how. Does this student give one word answers every time? Does that one want to take over conversation and share their life story? Some of the best answers come from an introverted student who takes us all by surprise with a perfectly insightful answer that makes us all laugh. 

As we start our first unit this week, I am also going to use these circles as a sort of anticipation guide, relating our questions to our content. 

So Far So Good 

I had my first observation of the year Monday morning and in his notes, my administrator highlighted how the classroom feels inclusive, energetic, and comfortable. I greeted students at the door to check in before class started, as I always do. And when the bell rang, they eagerly jumped into the circle before I could even finish sharing our word of the day (indigenous). 

My admin noticed that all students shared in our circle, listened to one another, and showed they felt at ease in my room. He said, “They were all engaged in the lesson, and they were having fun doing it.” 

I feel like that’s about the best I can hope for to start this year. Plus, it’s a solid data point to remind me, later on when schedule pressures feel hectic, that meeting students where they are and caring about them as human beings are all that really matters. 

Speak Up At School: Inviting Everyone into Equity Work

Equity Advisory Committee 

I recently helped design and lead a district wide PD on equity. A mandatory staff training of this breadth hasn’t been done in close to a decade, let alone a training focused on equity, so our work was cut out for us.

The impetus for the training came from our district’s Equity Advisory Committee (EAC), a group of teachers, parents, and leaders who’ve volunteered to assess our district’s equity policy and practices. 

Our teaching staff is 93.9 % white so  talking about issues of equity and race is difficult, to say the least. But, this group has been collaborative space to surface issues of discrimination, bias, and inequity.

Parents have been vocal and vulnerable. One in particular shared how her son was called the n-word by another student repeatedly, and chose to transfer schools because he didn’t feel safe, let alone really seen. 

Educators have articulated their frustration with equity work that seems to move at a glacial pace. 

Speak Up At School 

Our superintendent’s initial plan for this mandatory equity training focused on Harassment, Intimidation, and Bullying (HIB). While that work is critical, our equity leaders worried that centering on HIB would be an easy excuse for white people to once again avoid talking about race and simply focus on colorblind kindness

Knowing this, we reflected on what we’ve done in our building to design a training using the  Speak Up At School framework from Learning for Justice

We started the session with an overview of the resources and we then moved into breakout rooms where people discussed scenarios that have happened in our buildings using the Interrupt, Question,  Educate, and Echo pocket guide.

Although we’d hear some complaints later, as we always do with anything labeled “equity,” it seemed to be going well. The conversations in the breakout rooms I visited were productive and people came back to share thoughtful insights with the larger group. 

It was going well until the last two minutes, that is.when an older white man, let’s call him George, asked why we can’t just go back to the times of Martin Luther King when we celebrated everyone, regardless of their skin color. He said he doubted that MLK would even have supported Black Lives Matter

And, just like that, a relatively successful training crumbled. My principal offered redirection and a few tried to point out the flaws in his thinking. But, others echoed George and quickly the chat spiraled into a political debate that luckily could be severed by an “end meeting” button.  

The next week, when I saw colleagues in the hall, they were just as likely to thank me as they were to cringe about what George said. 

Later, we found out that one of the few staff members of color ended up leaving the meeting, rightfully discouraged by how colleagues debated the validity of her lived experience. 

Equity 101 

I can’t and don’t blame her because I too was incredibly frustrated, and I have the privilege of being white.The fact that a training we had worked on for weeks could be so easily derailed easily was disheartening, but not exactly surprising. 

Having so many different staff members together was a glaring reminder that we don’t all need the same training. Teachers differentiate for a reason. Some students need sentence stems to start an essay, while others dive into symbolism with college level prose. We meet students where they are and we need to do the same for adults. 

The EAC was clear: equity work (education and training for tangible change) has to be mandatory. As soon as “equity” is optional, educators will choose to check out. It’s up to leadership to find the best ways to invite everyone to this work, otherwise, nothing will change. 

Our staff of color might need affinity groups, so they don’t have to hear the George’s of the world catch up to 2021. And, maybe George needs a safe space, perhaps with other white males, where he can ask questions and get some more accurate answers without committing an abuse against the marginalized.

What would it look like to have an equity 101 course in our August staff development, along with a 201, 301, and even graduate level? What would it look like to have these ongoing conversations all year? Not just in “equity” allocated PD days, but in all of what we do? 

This training we started has to be the floor, not the ceiling. 

Yes, Even (Especially) White People

A few weeks later, I saw George at a sporting event and he thanked me for “that equity thing.” He said it was good stuff but “it’s hard because, you know, we don’t have a lot of…*insert awkward hand motions to wave around the fact that we are 93.9% white.*” 

I tried to call out what he was dancing around and said something like, “Yes, it is challenging to have these discussions with a majority white staff, but the work is still important.”

Hindsight, I wish I had added something like, “As white folks, we have to confront our own biases and reflect on how our norms can be harmful. We need to act to interrupt systems of white supremacy and inequity.” 

But, in reality, if I said that, he probably would have shut down. George is a good reminder to me of the need for “Equity 101” and staff differentiation. He means well and it seems he wants to learn, so the only thing worse than his training comments would be for him to stop listening and engaging altogether. 

We might be in different places on our equity journeys, but it’s important that we keep our foot on the gas. 

Media Literacy: 21st Century Critical Thinking

Divided We Fall?

I’m sure there have been many times in history where it seemed like our country was irreconcilably divided. The Civil War is of course the ultimate example, with the Civil Rights movement closely following. But, all year, I have felt the strains of teaching in a cultural climate that seems both at odds with reality and finally aware of grim truths about our collective history.

I have students whose Google ID photos proudly ask to Make America Great Again , and others who display the light pink and blue flag that signifies their transgender identity. While there are always a wide range of opinions in the classroom, these differences between students feel more like cavernous divides.

 There have been several points in the year, particularly around the presidential election,  where I was a little glad I didn’t have students in class. Glad, at least, that I was the only one who had to read the vitriolic message from a student asking why we have to read about the sanctity of Black lives. Glad I could shield my students of color from his anger and unkind words that were rooted in fear, rather than empathy.  

As a teacher, the line between what is political and what’s appropriate in the classroom is blurry at best. And, when we are all bombarded with media from every angle and avenue, it seems impossible to combat disinformation. 

I’ve always found that teaching media literacy and critical consumption of media is important, but this year, among vaccine skepticism, conspiracy theories about stolen elections, and claims of learning loss, these skills felt even more pressing. My job is not to teach my students what to think, but how

So, this year, when I dove into media literacy and argument writing, I strove to bring the real world into the classroom. If I could prime students to at least pause and critically think about what they consumed, I’d call that a win. 

A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words 

One particularly poignant lesson my student teacher created was around the power of images and captions across different media. 

We went over connotation and denotation, and she then presented examples of images with different captions. She asked students to see how the image and their understanding of it changed based on those differences. 

For example, when students saw these two, several swore that she lightened the second photo because they noticed the brightness of the sun and trees, even though nothing but the caption changed. 

While she created the above image for the purposes of our assignment, I saw and remembered myriad examples in the real world. 

This summer, when protests for racial justice broke out across the country, I paid particular attention to Portland and Seattle where headlines diverged wildly. They were called everything from “Antifa mob” and “riot” to “peaceful demonstrations.”  Without being there, it was hard to parse the truth. Some images depicted Portland burning, while others showed a wall of mourners, holding candles. Two wildly different reports of the same story, with two very different connotations, interpretations, and impacts. 

Then, as we were wrapping up our unit, Biden announced his two trillion dollar spending package, and two different news organizations posted very different accompanying photos. One of Biden, the president, and one of Alexandria Occasio Cortez, even though she wasn’t involved in the legislation and openly said that it was “not nearly enough.” Why, then, was she included in the headline? 

These and subsequent lessons on analyzing images helped students realize the persuasive power that lay in small choices that are far from arbitrary. Captions are short, so every word matters. And yes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and our increasingly shrinking collective attention spans, they might be the most important thing a viewer sees.

Read Between the Lines 

While a caption on a forested trail might not be high stakes, the protests over racial injustice and government spending most certainly are. Students, like most media consumers, are so used to the near constant stream of information that they don’t often take a moment to pause and analyze what they’re seeing. 

Honestly, it was only because I was teaching this unit that those different posts about the infrastructure bill caught my eye. We’re so used to being bombarded with content constantly that it’s hard to remember to stop and think. 

After completing this unit, and her research on defining the police, one student told me she realized the issue was much more nuanced than what she had seen on social media. She went into her research against the movement, but ended up doing her project in favor of defunding. 

As with many well meaning, surface level media consumers, she understood the issue to be a false dilemma between police state or mass chaos, and she was actually fairly shocked when she learned more details. 

I don’t want my students to become cynical, but I do want them to recognize when they are being sold a bill of goods. I want them to understand how words and images intentionally play together to convince a specific audience. I hope these lessons at least helped them think twice. 

And, amidst rampant misinformation, fears, and theories around COVID vaccinations, I’d like to run an adult refresher course too, while I’m at it.