Category Archives: Education

Goals: 2020-Style

Posted by Lynne Olmos on October 26, 2020
Current Affairs, Distance Learning, Education, Education Policy, High School, Life in the Classroom, Middle School, Online Teaching, Professional Development, Social Issues, Teacher Leadership | arts education, covid-19, distance learning, goals, hybrid learning, neural ed, professional development, remote learning, social emotional learning, student growth goals, teacher leadership, trauma informed

Tell me about your goals. What were they before Covid-19? What are they now?

I’m guessing they are somewhat different. Our priorities have shifted. At home, this is good – more time with family and pets, and far less time on our hair!

However, my educator goals have suffered terribly. Prior to this year, I had clear and powerful goals for my classroom, my students, and myself. In fact, I had three areas that I was independently researching or promoting, and I was really fired up about them, too. I was building a toolbox of my own to be the best teacher I could be to my students.

Here are my goals, pre-Covid:

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Hybrid Model: The Inside Story

Posted by Lynne Olmos on September 28, 2020
Current Affairs, Distance Learning, Education, Education Policy, High School, Life in the Classroom, Middle School, Online Teaching, Parent Involvment, Social Issues, Teacher Leadership, Uncategorized | covid-19, distance learning, hybrid model, K5 News, Mossyrock, quarantine, remote learning

My district was one of the first in our region to go back to school face-to face this year. We began a “hybrid model” on September 14, with seniors and K-3 going four days a week, and all others going twice-a-week in cohorts (Monday/Thursday and Tuesday/Friday). On Wednesdays we delivered online material and caught up with our work, while reinventing it simultaneously. Some of our students opted for full-time distance learning, but the vast majority excitedly prepared for the first day of school.

Our neighbor districts were watching us intently. Would we pave the way for others to follow us, or would we cause an outbreak in our tiny town?

One week in, “it” happened. A student, who later tested positive for Covid-19, attended the first day of school. Dozens of staff members and students were subsequently quarantined due to contact with the student, and the decision was made to suspend school until the 14-day quarantine period was over, giving the health department time to do all of the necessary contact tracing. Our schools and buses were disinfected, and our teaching staff pivoted to all online learning, something we were told was likely to happen from the start.

Not an auspicious beginning, you might say. But let me elaborate.

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I Taught a Lesson Today!

Posted by Jan Kragen on September 22, 2020
Current Affairs, Education, Elementary, Life in the Classroom, Web/Tech

It’s Tuesday, September 22, 2020. School started on September 2. We are three weeks in.

Due to health concerns, I moved from my fifth-grade classroom at a brick-and-mortar school to teaching at our district’s online academy. I get up and dressed for work each day. Then I walk down the hall to the study or the dining room table or the card table in the family room.

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Real Student Conversation

Posted by Swan Eaton on June 12, 2020
Current Affairs, Education, Equity, Life in the Classroom, Middle School, Social Issues, Uncategorized

I started last Wednesday’s zoom office hours assuming that my students would most likely ask questions around their statistics math work. I spent the earlier part of the week predicting which questions they may have complications with, creating problems with step-by-step explanation, and jotting down my calendar availability in case students needed extra support sessions.

I start all zoom meetings asking my attendees how their weekend was. Delightful conversation usually occurs around how we are all keeping busy while staying at home. Once all the students have had an opportunity to share, we switch topics and discuss math. This last Wednesday was NOT business as usual.

My first student asked, “Mrs. Eaton, did you hear there is going to be a protest down at Winco?”

I said, “Yes, I heard about that.”

The discussion quickly unfolded into a slew of questions. Math wasn’t spoken of at all during the day’s sessions.

Some of my students are very confused and scared about what is happening in our country. There were varying opinions on what students have been seeing on TikTok. It was interesting to discover that students receive much of their news from TikTok, the social media platform where people are sharing funny dance moves, challenges, and jokes.

Students discussed different TikToks they had seen and how they were affected. I asked students to think about the accuracy/validity of what they were viewing. Students defended TikTok and expressed they felt it was “unfiltered real news”. When I asked them what they meant by that, they unanimously replied that you can’t trust news from the television.

The conversation then switched to racism. Some of my students vocalized they wanted to demonstrate their support while under quarantine (still in phase 1 where we live.) Others were scared because undocumented older siblings were going to attend the protest. They feared the police would catch them and send them to a detention facility.

Many of my citizen students never considered that some of their classmates were not documented. An eerie silence filled the zoom room when a student asked another if they were born here. I interjected and asked my students to think about whether it is okay to discriminate against anyone on the basis of race, sexual orientation, gender, religion, or national origin?

I can’t help but wonder what this would have looked like in a regular classroom. Would students have been shy to speak up? Does the stop video function act as a courage button in allowing students to be more vocal? Does the chat function facilitate hearing the voices of students who, in a regular classroom setting, would have been overshadowed by outspoken students?

During distance learning our priority, as educators, has been intensely focused on providing equitable instruction. I have been researching best practices, planning, and preparing what the start of 2020-2021 will look like. It is easy to forget, at times, that our classrooms were safe spaces where students were able to ask non-academic questions.

The best thing I could do was listen and allow an open forum for their discussion. The honest truth is that in today’s society, teachers are assumed to be viewed as neutral or as a moderator when discussing such topics with students. Students look up to their teachers and are influenced by our views, regardless of how we stand on any issue.

I understand that there are many ways to dismantle institutional racism and other controversial issues affecting our country. However, let’s not forget that space must be provided for students to question and discuss these issues in a non-threatening environment. It is through moments like this that understanding occurs, unconscious biases are discovered, bias starts to be extinguished, and our society begins to change for the better.

One Last Lesson: Mindfulness in Trying Times

Posted by Lynne Olmos on May 31, 2020
Education, High School, Life in the Classroom, Mentoring, Uncategorized | distance learning, education, mindfulness, relationships, social emotional learning

I cannot begin to tell you how special my 2020 seniors are to me. I feel like writing them a mass letter of recommendation, pinning the hopes of the world on their amazing shoulders. They are the inspiration I need these days, because their cleverness, their resilience, their awareness, and their kindness are what we need to solve problems and hold each other up.

Last week I had one more online class with them to plan, and I had to make it matter. They have been my students since seventh grade. They’ve heard all my stories; they know all my opinions. I’ve presented them with hundreds of lessons on literature and composition. If I haven’t taught them a skill by now, it really is too late, right?

2020 Mossyrock Seniors in Junior High

Bell to bell. I like to fill my students’ time with learning, which makes me an exhausting, high-energy, way-too-intense teacher for some folks, but they know to expect my expectations. And we were going to learn on the last day, too.

What was the lesson they still needed? We had dedicated most of the last semester of their dual-credit composition class to “skills for success”. We brainstormed what successful adults had learned – outside of school. We compared that to their collective knowledge, and then they dug into some research to create projects to share with their peers to expand their knowledge in the homestretch. They created research papers, multimedia presentations, and blog posts (see them here), as individuals and groups. It was relevant, dynamic, timely, and successful. And, in the middle of it, the pandemic happened.

Some of the Girls (Photo Credit: Amy Fitzhugh)

So what was the lesson I still owed them? It is one I am working on myself, and one we all need, especially with the isolation and the unfamiliar challenges of distance learning. I announced that I (their least relaxed teacher of all time) was delving into mindfulness techniques to manage stress in these strange times. I have been reading about stress and mental health all year, and I had just attended our CSTP Happy Hour that focused on mindfulness with special guest Christy Anana. All of the signs led to this topic. This topic chose itself.

I let my vulnerability show, telling my seniors I knew my mindfulness skills were awful, and my “vibe” was not the sort that a mindfulness teacher would have, but I also knew that it was a skill for success that we had bypassed in our research. It was too important to leave out.

Some of the Boys (Photo Credit: Sage Pereira)

So, we watched some videos: an explainer on stress and the brain; some videos of a high school teacher who helps her students “arrive” through mindfulness; and a video that led us through a mindful minute. We discussed how we felt about it, how our conservative community would react if teachers started teaching mindfulness regularly, and how we could use it in our lives to stay grounded and present.

And, as usual, like every other time, these kids impressed me. They were amazing, and already better than me at mindfulness.

The Home Team (Photo Credit: Amy Fitzhugh)

So, at the end, I gave them instructions as to how to write their final reflection and submit their portfolios. There was an awkward pause. I struggled to find some witty way to say my final goodbye, and I failed.

I just said, “I’m going to let you go.”

Pause. Long pause.

“Are you going to cry Mrs. Olmos?”

“Yes.”

That was the last lesson, the last gift I had to give those students. But, next year’s students, no matter what next year looks like, are going to get a more mindful teacher from the get-go.

One More for the Road (Photo Credit: Amy Fitzhugh)

Resources:

How Our Brains React to Uncontrollable Stress

Harvard Researchers Study How Mindfulness May Change the Brain in Depressed Patients

The Mindfulness Skill That Is Crucial for Success

Arrive – A Mindfulness Minute

Mindful Minute – Beach

Christy Anana on YouTube

Letting Go and Leaning In

Posted by Leann Schumacher on May 28, 2020
Education, Education Policy, Elementary, Life in the Classroom, Social Issues

Covid-19. Quarantine. Social Distancing.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

At the beginning of May, I went into my building for the first time since the initial announcement of the 6-week school closures. I walked through the eerily quiet hallways looking at all of the artwork and school announcement posters still hanging. Everyday items clinging to life, waiting for the halls to once again flood with children to justify their purpose.

I meandered up the stairs and finally arrived at my classroom. Our painted hearts from Valentine’s Day sitting frozen in time on our display wall. I opened my door and was hit with hot, stuffy air and silence.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Water bottles sitting on desks waiting for their owners. My daily schedule still set on March 12th, patiently waiting for the 13th to take its place.

Crayon boxes open on desks, books messily shoved into book boxes, and pencils everywhere. Centimeter cubes sitting in the random spots where kids had left them after a busy day of math workshop. Pillows askew in the classroom library and papers shoved into desks. The stuff of everyday learning filling every inch of my classroom but no longer having any purpose because time has stopped in Room 205.

What began as weeks has now turned into just over two months of distance learning. As I attempt to continue teaching and give my students feedback, I can’t help but think: Do I even really know this child anymore? It’s been over a summer break’s worth of time since I have seen them in person. Are they still obsessed with Pokemon? Do they still like to eat jelly sandwiches for lunch? Is this feedback going to resonate with this version of them? The faces I now see in front of me feel like a virtual simulation of the students I used to have. I feel incredibly guilty for thinking this way but what we had together in our classroom feels like a lifetime ago.

The feelings of personal inadequacy are strong too. I find myself constantly thinking about all of the things I could do better. As an educator, that feeling is a constant companion, but in this world of online learning, it feels especially overbearing. It’s no longer a companion, but rather an uncontrollable force. Even with each passing team meeting, staff meeting, or online collaboration I somehow feel more alone.

We have to keep moving forward, but with the 20-21 school year still hanging in the balance, it’s hard to know what to hold on to. It’s hard to know how to manage expectations or what to plan for the next school year. The thought of possibly having to continue fully online for a new school year breaks my heart. We’ve all been cheated. We’ve all lost precious time in our classrooms to grow and learn and give.

Teachers work their tails off to get to March. The spring is everyone’s big payoff for the school year. We spend Fall and Winter building community, routines, and foundations so that when Spring rolls around our students can soar. More than ever, the classroom feels like a true family as we come to the realization that this school year is coming to an end and we will no longer be together every day. Teachers and students alike begin to savor and soak up every moment they can.

Not all hope is lost though.

As I comb through my student’s current work, I am often reminded of Rita Pierson’s wonderfully inspiring TED Talk. Within the first minute, Rita quotes James Comer and it is the heart of her message: “No significant learning can occur without a significant relationship.” I think of this quote often because, despite everything, my students are still growing. With each passing week, I see more legible handwriting, longer fiction stories, deeper comprehension in reading. Math concepts I must have taught about 50 different ways in-person without success are starting to click at home.

Whether it’s a teacher or a parent, kids learn from the people they love.

While I don’t get my big spring payoff there can still be a happy ending. We can take this experience and use it to better leverage family involvement in the future. Maybe we can finally redefine what a learning community looks like. Maybe when they say “it takes a village to raise a child”, we can start creating a better village and lean into the communities that are often ignored beyond our classrooms. I’ve learned that distance can’t stop love or strong relationships or the ways in which we have positively impacted another human being. Kids will always need champions in their corner, even if that corner is miles away.

Distance Success

Posted by Mark Gardner on May 15, 2020
Current Affairs, Education, Life in the Classroom | covid-19, distance learning

For the vast majority of my students, distance learning has not been working.

Not just my classes, but the concept in general. Many report that their lives outside of school are often unstructured, unfettered, tumultuous, so the routine and predictability (and accountability) of school was what kept their footing. They miss being greeted by the principal and our awesome secretaries every single morning. They miss our one-hallway community where literally everyone knows your name. They even miss my bad dad-jokes. (I added that last one, because I’m just assuming…)

They share with me that it isn’t the content, or the tasks, or the obscure grading expectations, or the fact that they might spend hours staring at a chromebook. It is the loss of the structure of school, both literal and figurative.

While some are adrift, a handful are experiencing an academic transformation. The numbers are small, but there is something about this distance learning thing that is working for them. Let’s take one student, who I’ll call B*. Prior to March 13th, attendance was spotty. When present, B was physically present only. Despite constant attempts to connect, few of us on staff were able to claim we actually had a sustained conversation with them. In the weeks prior to the shutdown, I received two assignments from B. They weren’t defiant, and to be honest their skills (in my classes, at least) did not appear to be deficient in any significant way. B was, and is, an enigma we are continuing to work to unravel.

Transition to distance learning and this same student had nearly the highest rate of engagement of all my students. This is a student listed as homeless, with a history of bouncing from school to school, and with a outside-of-school life that instantly led to worry every time they missed school. When I asked B why distance learning seemed to work, I parsed out three trends in their (short) reply:

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This Is Heavy: The WATAC Conference and Finding Meaning

Posted by Lynne Olmos on May 8, 2020
Current Affairs, Education, Education Policy, Life in the Classroom, Middle School, Professional Development, Uncategorized

Last weekend I attended the 4th Annual Washington Teacher Advisory Council’s Spring Conference. The planners re-organized their conference into an online format. Amazingly, they were able to accommodate the largest number of attendees in their history thus far. That is one positive when it comes to the distance learning format. We can fit more folks into the “room.”

Don’t get me wrong; I would have much preferred seeing all my friends and colleagues from around the state in person. I look forward to it every year. However, seeing them all virtually and hearing how they are dealing with our unprecedented issues these last months of the school year was invaluable.

If you are unfamiliar with WATAC, it is an organization formed initially to organize award-winning teachers in our state to make our expertise available to stakeholders with influence on education policy. Since its inception, it has expanded to include leaders from all aspects of education – administration, certificated, and classified. Anyone with an interest in teacher leadership is welcome at the conference. And, for me, the conference has been a great way to get a shot of teacher energy as the final stretch of the school year hits, and I really, really need that boost.

This year…I really needed a boost.

Don’t we all? The truth is I am actually grieving. I wobble back and forth between shock, depression, and a sort of manic activity level of problem solving. I’m a mess! In fact, the concept of the five stages of grief won’t get out of my head. Although, losing a loved one is unspeakably worse, losing my classroom feels like a huge loss. After all, I love my job. I love the most annoying of my seventh graders and the snarkiest of my seniors. I am deeply attached to my classroom, my kids, and my teacher lifestyle. So, yes, I am grieving the loss.

The five stages are trademarked, actually. You can go to David Kessler’s website, if you are interested in what he says about grief and grieving. After wondering if I was actually experiencing grief, I looked over the process: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Yep. I’m doing all of that.

The conference theme was “Back to the Future, and keynote speaker Amy Campbell, our current Washington State Teacher of the Year, quoted the famous meme that comes from the movie Back to the Future, the one where Marty McFly says, “This is heavy.”

This IS heavy, Marty. You thought it was tough that your mom had a crush on you. But this, THIS is heavy.

Education is changing. This is not merely a moment of pause. We can’t go back to normal. In this crisis we have pulled back a curtain and revealed serious problems with equity in education. Yes, we knew they were there, but it is easy to just go about our business making little shifts that don’t rock the boat too much.

It won’t work that way this time. Serious change is needed, and now is exactly the time to work on it.

As Amy told us- speaking directly to my teacher soul – we are experiencing loss. We are in a crisis that impacts our safety, our economy, and our mental health. “Hindsight really is 2020,” and we need to find our “place on the continuum and start moving forward.”

Most importantly, she said, “Old normal should not be the final destination.” And I feel that. I really do.

As a member of the teacher panel later in the conference, I was asked what was working, what was hard, and what I want to take into the future of education. I don’t remember what I said exactly, and I hope it made some sense at the time. But, I can summarize right now.

What’s working? YouTube, Padlet, Zoom, and all the technology no one thought we could use on such a large scale.

What’s hard? Missing the kids and noticing that some fell off the radar when the crisis hit. Many of my kids live in crisis all the time. Not knowing where they are right now is indescribably tough..

What to take forward? Poor kids, rural kids, isolated kids—they deserve whatever the other kids get. I don’t want to see how the one-to-one schools gracefully flipped their systems to accommodate distance learning. I want to see how internet access becomes a universal right for all families. I want legitimate supports for English language learners and students with IEPs and 504 plans. I want to see every teacher receiving the training to support distance learning. I want my tiny district to have more than the grit, goodwill, and volunteer spirit that is filling the gaps in the system. I want equity for all- educators, families, students, all of us.

That’s what I would take to the future.

So, thank you Amy and all the other wonderful WATAC planners and facilitators. You acknowledged what we are going through and you set us on an impassioned path to the future. You did not pretend it was easy, but you did assure us that we are not alone on this journey. There are a lot of amazing educators who are fighting the fight alongside us. So thank you.

In closing, my grief research led me to David Kessler’s final stage of grief from his latest book. He calls it “finding meaning.” It is the way that we can begin to move forward. We find meaning in the loss. I am starting to feel like I am on that path. With the “loss” of my familiar job as an educator, I am focusing on how to reinvent it to make it equitable, relevant, engaging, and, well, comforting, for the students of my future classroom, online or elsewhere. I am beginning to plan going back to the future.

WATAC Facebook Page

Amy’s Keynote on OSPI’s YouTube Channel

Stories From School

Practice Meets Policy

Category Archives: Education

I Taught a Lesson Today!

Distance Success

This Is Heavy: The WATAC Conference and Finding Meaning