Category Archives: Parent Involvment

The Virtual Classroom in the Age of Coronavirus

Thursday, March 12, we had a staff meeting after school where we learned that eventually schools might be closed for a period of time.

Friday, March 13, at 12:30, I learned school would close the following Monday. We were told to gather work to send home that would support student learning for the next six weeks.

I flew around, getting math, ELA, and science organized so students could take them home by the end of the day. Before they left, I hugged them all (one last time before social distancing made us stop that!) and said I planned to start teaching them for “at least one hour a day” starting the next Monday.

I spoke too soon.

Continue reading

Hands-in Learning

Like many of the rest of you, I went from being a classroom teacher to also being continuous-education facilitator (perhaps a new state term?) of my own children in the blink of an eye. While I am still juggling the steep learning curve of being a virtual teacher for my brick-and-mortar students, I have had my own steep learning curve at home. 

This morning, we sat at the kitchen table and went through our “classroom norms” to start the day:

Breakfast eaten-check. Hair brushed-check. Teeth brushed-check. Pajamas changed into real clothes for the day-check. I double-checked…no pajama bottoms? Wow! We already had some of my “real” middle-school classroom norms beat! 

Continue reading

Homework is Dead, Long Live Homework

At the beginning of this year I interpreted at a parent-teacher conference for a Ukrainian third grade student. He was a second year English Language (EL) learner.  The teacher praised both his academic and social progress. His mother listened politely and nodded at the appropriate times. At the end of the conference, the teacher asked if she had questions. The mother asked,  “Why is my son getting so little homework?” 


A note written by a Ukrainian parent. Translated it states:
Please give my son more homework in all subject areas.

More than a decade ago, Alfie Kohn wrote, “The Homework Myth: Why Our Kids Get Too Much of a Bad Thing.” Stanford published a study in 2014 showing the pitfalls of homework. Other studies cropped up. All detailing the ineffectiveness and negative impacts of homework. With homework steadily gaining a bad reputation, my district and school decided to encourage teachers to decrease the amount of homework given to our K-5 students. 

Parents noticed. 

Continue reading

On Leveraging Technology: part one of several–some background

This year I have more technology in my room than I have ever had in fifteen years of teaching. I don’t know how I feel about it. The phrase in my district is “leverage technology.” I like this quite a lot, especially in contrast to the experience my own children are having in a different district. My children’s district decided to go one-to-one. Technology immersion, seems to be the tactic. It has been a rough transition. As a parent who has used technology mindfully, and been very deliberate about my kid’s exposure to technology, seeing my child use it all the time because he “has to for school” is unnerving. I want to spend some time analyzing these two approaches, and see what I can figure out (if anything). But this post is just background, the setting of the stage.

My early mantra around technology for my personal life and for my classroom was: technology must enhance what I’m doing not distract me from it. I’m not convinced we’ve figured out how to do this in education, as a system. I’m mostly positive a few individuals have figured this out. I’m in the process.

I want to be clear: I am not anti-technology. I coupled my English major with a computer science minor and used contractor jobs building websites to help pay off my student loans. Though I write often in a notebook, all my writing eventually is on a computer. I did resist a cell phone for years, mostly because I didn’t want something else to carry. I teach and have taught hybrid and fully online classes for years. Though, my family hasn’t owned a television in fifteen years.

I am of an age where I can remember the world pre-internet, as I’m sure many readers of this blog are, but I mention it because watching the web come into being taught me something about how I would use it. I lost friends to computers. They just became more interested in the machine and then we spent less and less time together. Nothing too serious, or out of the ordinary coming-of-age stuff, but I noticed. Then, in college, I read Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman, and, being the serious minded young person I was, I thought hard about both the messages I received and the medium through which I received them.

Then I started teaching. I’ve had varying access to technology over the years, and I’ve used much of it. I’ve had a bank of computers, a smartboard, a small cache of laptops (webbooks they were called). But as the technology wore out, I did not feel a pressing need to replace it. It provided a way to do things, not necessarily a better way—as far as I could tell. Besides, a computer lab full of students, oddly silent, staring at monitors creeped me out. I only did it when it made sense—typing final drafts, et. all. Continue reading

The Lazy Teacher’s Guide to Conferences

Frank and Lillian Gilbreth were early efficiency experts who did motion study work. The book about their family, Cheaper by the Dozen, explains the technique they used. “A lazy man … always makes the best use of his [time] because he is too indolent to waste motions. Whenever Dad started to do a new motion study project at a factory, he’d always begin by announcing he wanted to photograph the motions of the laziest man on the job” (Gilbreth and Carey, 94).

There are lots of tips and tricks for having effective parent-teacher conferences, from the NEA and KidsHealth to a collection of materials from Edutopia.

But how to be efficient? How to make the best use of your time?

Let me share some ideas. See if there are ones you can adapt to use with your students and your parents.

I have students write in a journal nearly every day. At the beginning of the school year I ask them to write short pieces about gifts or talents they have, ones they wish they had, and ones they are willing to work hard on this year to develop as skills. Often those responses have little or nothing to do with school. They have to do with sports teams or drama classes or art classes. Which is great — I learn a lot about my students’ interests. I have them type those pieces and print them. I hang them on the bulletin board in the hall.

(I also use the discussions we have to drive home the point that there are multiple kinds of gifts and talents, not just the ones that get kids placed into self-contained classrooms. And we talk about how everyone has to work hard to improve skills.)

About four weeks into the school year I narrow the focus. I ask students to write in their journals about what they do well at school. I ask them to think specifically about academics and behavior inside my classroom. The next day I ask them to write about what they need to improve. We’ve had a month of school. By now they should be able to pinpoint some areas of success and areas for growth.

The third day I ask them to write about how the adults in their life can help them—parents, grandparents, teachers, whatever grownups they rely on for help.

Once again, I have them type up what they’ve written, but this time I don’t have them print the pieces. They save them into the Kragen classroom folder into a subfolder called “journals.”

Meanwhile, I have a template for my conferences:

In the week before the conferences, I copy the template, one for each student. I add the student and parent names. Finally, I import the paragraphs each student wrote into their page.

As parents and students arrive for conferences I greet them. I ask the students to collect their most recent papers to go home. I give the parents the STAR test results and any other paperwork from the office.

Just that quickly we are ready to start the interview.

I sit at the computer, facing my student. Parents listen while I conduct an interview. (It’s really hard for them to be quiet and listen, but I ask them to wait to talk until their child is finished.)

First, I ask, “What are you good at? I see you wrote that you are good at math. Are you good at other things too?” As we talk, I add to what the student initially wrote. Sometimes I say, “May I add something? May I put down that you are extremely well-behaved?” or “You do really well in group work.” I’ve never had a student turn me down! It gives me the chance to reinforce the idea that behavior and teamwork are valued skills in the classroom.

Second, I ask for what they need to improve. Usually they have a really good handle on what they need to work on. My contributions are less likely to be additions and more likely to be suggested solutions.

Third, I throw them a curve ball. I ask, “What are your goals for school, for your life? What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to accomplish?”

Some children have vague ideas. “I want to get good grades.” I sometimes suggest, “I want to be well-educated?” They usually smile and say yes.

Others have definite plans. “I want to be a veterinarian.” “An entertainer.” “I want to work with robots.” “I want to be an author.” “I want to be an inventor.”

Those responses can lead to a brief but rich conversation.

1.

During the conference I Google the top ten colleges in the field and recommend to the student and parents that they contact the schools to find out what their requirements are. What would the child need to do in high school in order to be a good candidate for the program? Plan ahead!

(My dad did hiring for Lockheed. He told me once that they looked at candidates from only five schools in the US. I always thought that if it was your life-long dream to work at Lockheed it would really be awful to find that out after you graduated from school number six!)

BTW, also look into financial aid at each school. How will you start planning to pay for the college now?

As families take summer vacations, I recommend they visit any of the top schools they might pass. See if they can get a tour.

2.

Find mentors or interview subjects. Can you tour the robotics department at UW? Can you job shadow a scientist?

I won’t take the whole class on a field trip to visit such specific places, but I recommend parents take their own children on personal field trips.

Last summer a girl did field work with a biologist.

“The last question you ask is, who should I talk to next? Daisy chain connections. You may end up finding an area of interest that you don’t even know exists because it’s not something we talk about in a fourth or fifth grade classroom.”

3.

“What’s stopping you? If you want to be an author and write about your travels, start now. You’ve traveled across the country several times. How do you pack for long trips? How do you amuse yourself on long drives?”

“If you want to be an entertainer, start now. Read poems aloud—with GREAT enthusiasm—to the kindergarten classes.”

“Do you know about inventors who are young people?” I suggest the TED talks with Richard Turere and Boyan Slat. “And you should also watch Slingshot on Netflix because you will love it.”

Fourth, I ask each child how the adults can help. By now we may have answered that question within the other sections, but I always like to double-check that I haven’t missed anything.

About this point I turn to the parents and ask, “Is there anything you would like to add? Do you have any questions?”

Virtually every time, the answer is no. Parents tell me the conference feels very thorough.

What you need to notice is that the student has done about 85% of the work. I’ve done some copy and pasting, I’ve added comments into the document, but mostly I’ve had a great time talking to each of my students.

I print a copy of the page for the parents that they can take home immediately. They LOVE not having to take notes!

Of course, I have an electronic copy of everything. In the spring we can pull up the fall conferences and review how well the students are doing.

(In my next post I will share more ways I save time doing conferences!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Support Strikers Even If You Aren’t Sold On The Idea

Sometimes, you don’t realize how much you need a hug until someone reaches over and gives you one. Sometimes, you forget to hug the people closest to you and say “thank you.” Anyone who became an educator knows this is part of the deal. We don’t become teachers or counselors for the praise. We do it because we believe in community and the power of education to change lives. We believe our work makes the world a better place.

But for many public school educators this summer has presented a challenge to the “Why” of our work. By now, you’ve seen or read the news about education association contract negotiations. When the legislators finally agreed to put money towards funding the McCleary decision last spring, districts across the state celebrated. They also began to grapple with what the new funding would mean in terms of teacher salaries and program development. Simultaneously, education associations across the state began re-negotiating their contracts, specifically focusing on compensation. The purpose of this post isn’t to explain the ins-and-outs of the work (start here if you’re feeling wonky and listen to Nerd Farmer & Citizen Tacoma) but what I am going to ask you is to support the educators in your community.

We may disagree on the way McCleary funds should be spent locally or what percentage should go to educator pay. Perhaps you feel the whole thing is such a confusing mess. Regardless, it’s critical that you support your public school staff.

I’m part of Tacoma Education Association and we’re headed into day three of striking. Every box of donuts, case of bottled water, tray of cookies, baggie of fresh fruit, or cup of coffee dropped off to striking educators, is like a giant hug of support that means more than any pictures, hashtag, or blog post could convey.

As I reflect on the last few days and look through the countless photos of educators from across this state, I’m reminded of a couple things. Teachers aren’t perfect. We have our faults. We mess up. But because research shows that an effective classroom teacher is the number one in-school factor impacting student achievement, we have to make sure that the best teachers are working in our public schools. A competitive compensation package is one way to ensure this.

If that doesn’t persuade you, then think about the individuals. The person in the red shirt holding a sign is the same person who taught your son to read last year. The lady in the capris is the same person who comforts your child when he falls down on the playground. We are the people who wipe snotty noses, help tie shoes, celebrate SAT scores, wrestle through career choices, and cheer your baby on from kindergarten to senior year.

Support your educators any way you can.

 

An Open Letter to a Supportive Family

Dear Supportive Family,

When your boy came to me, he was a small guy. Restless as he paced outside the circle of the adults convened in the hallway discussing him, his past, what his future may hold. His eyes flicked our way and he offered only curt words and shoulder shrugs in response to the questions asked in a way that told me you were hoping he would contain himself long enough for me to agree to give him a try.

I stepped back out of our circle, stopping his swirl around us. I looked over him – at him felt too strong. “Creed, would you like to be here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t? No? Okay, well if you don’t then there is no point in us talking about it.”

“What, I didn’t say no. I said know.”

“Know what? Know that you know it is a no?” A small smile from me. Would he catch on?

I knew it wasn’t no. I just needed to connect and get a feel for him. Your kid had some serious baggage he was dragging along behind him – violent outbursts, ADHD and a lack of friends were just a few of the items tossed in. Was I willing to spend the energy and time to help him unpack it? Was I willing to bring your child into my classroom, one that had been humming along quite nicely all year? He was a “choice-in” student from a neighboring district. I could say no. You knew that.

His head tilted as he puzzled at the silly word play. Eye squinted for a second and then the flash of “Aha!” that couldn’t help but come out as a flash of a smile. I couldn’t say no to that kind of smile, that mind. I agreed to a one week “trial” where I would then meet with you to give my answer.

Day one, hour one. Your Creed flipped a desk in anger. He was sent out into the hall to copy a paragraph about “Impulse Control.” Hissing in anger, he slammed out the door. Hard. I heard his clipboard skitter down the hall. It was an hour before he walked back in with the sheet crumbled and torn, but scribbled upon. He tossed it in my general direction.

Not working for me. A new sheet; clean, not crumbled nor torn. Begin again.

Seething, he snatched it from my hands – tearing it.

“Give me another.”

“I will. After you finish the one you just tore.”

And so it went for the week. I pushed your child as hard as I could without losing him all the way. I wanted to see what I was getting into.

The day of our meeting arrived. I had no idea what Creed had gone home and told you about our “adventures” at school. All I knew was that for him to grow and change, it would take ALL of us adults to be on the same page. I laid out a contract of behavior that focused on Creed’s behavioral needs and my specific methods for helping him.

But, this contract was different. I also required you to pledge your support of the actions I would be taking to help your child learn to manage his actions and emotions. There would be no way to effectively help him make the deep changes required if I were constantly worried about what your reactions would be. Stern words? Repeatedly rewriting a sheet done too sloppily? Actually holding him accountable? I needed you on board. There would be no coddling, no excuses.

My deal? I would not be calling you with every poor behavior your child had. As a matter of fact, I would not be calling unless Creed was a danger to himself or others or had his first day where he just fit in like any other kid.

Flashes over the two-and-half years since:

Breathe Creed
Punch the wall
Glare back tears
I will NOT breath!
Have it your way Creed…
Hissed
Gritted teeth
Shaky
Breath
Deep relief

Caged in his own mind. Pacing.
Sliding down the wall, eyes covered,
“I am getting taken off all my medications.”
Try not to look stunned.
This has been Creed medicated?
“If you feel like ever hurting yourself, you have to tell someone.”
Fat tears of fear and shaking small body,
“I’m so scared.”
First phone call home.

Metaphorical fists up!
Put down your fists Creed.
A friend?
One. For a moment.
An unfortunate, mild incident
NOT sorry!
Put down your fists Creed.
Tried anew
Kicked the new.
Quick, hard
Anger!
Sorry!
No. Sorry?
Yes.
Emotional regulation is so hard!

Reams of “Impulse Control” sheets
scribbled and rewritten.
Clipped, unclipped, clipped again from the clipboard
Pencils sharpened, dulled, re-sharpened
“I am coming to the realization…”
Thoughts of what it means to discipline self,
imprinted on his paper and his mind.

“Mrs. Cruden, you and me are a lot a like.
I am a Bugatti engine,
trapped in a lawn mower’s life.
You are a Porche engine,
trapped in a mini-van’s life.”
So right your child was.

Grinding, grinding, grinding
Discipline,
as if he were my own.
Believing in what I am doing,
believing in Creed.
We believe.
Change is happening.

A day
regular and sunny
nothing out of the ordinary.
Months in the making.
“Oh God, what did he do?”
“Nothing. Today was just a regular day for a regular kid.”
Breath sighed out. Relief.
That was my second phone call home

Younger grades at his feet.
Talking science in a lab coat.
Goggles askew, hands wildly waving!
He is alive!
Your Creed… is a teacher!

Appendix out.
His classmates are worried.
Big sloppy, “Get Well!” cards.
Hand delivered to your home.
His face is that of loopy joy.
Your child has become a class beloved.

Dapper in a button down
Tie straight
Flowers in hand
Taking a sweet girl to the 8th grade dance
Smiling picture posted on FB
Creed has arrived.

It must have been hard to trust in the process and keep belief in the importance of learning self-discipline. As promised, there was no coddling, there were no excuses; from any of us. Your support enabled me to do my job – all of it. Teachers across America crave what you gave me – the gift to teach. For that I thank you.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Cruden

P.S. Soon Creed will walk across the stage and graduate 8th grade. In his mind are the keys to his Bugatti engine. Enjoy the ride! Maybe send a few postcards along the way…

Project, Products, and Publishing (or All’s Well That Ends Well)

Assessment. That’s a loaded word these days, particularly in the last months of the school year. But, what is it, really? Is it the state test? Is it an essay? Is it multiple choice?

Of course, the answer is yes to all of that, but there is so much more. We could get into the semantics of what is summative or formative assessment, and what type/mode/format of assessment is more valid or reliable or necessary. However, today I am interested in discussing one particular sort of assessment: publishing.

What I mean by “publishing” is this particular definition: to make publicly or generally known.

The Washington State English Language Arts Standards reference it:

W.9-10.6 Production and Distribution of Writing

Use technology, including the internet, to produce, publish, and update individual or shared writing products, taking advantage of technology’s capacity to link to other information and to display information flexibly and dynamically.

Ooh…and “to display information flexibly and dynamically!” That really gets to the heart of the matter, there. How do we assess this? How do we teach our students to publish? to create products? to display information flexibly and dynamically? And then, once we do teach these skills, how do we assess them?

My answer to all these questions is project-based learning. This last week, while my seventh-graders were busy toiling over their answers on the Smarter Balanced Assessment, my ninth-graders were wowing the public with their “Shakesfair” projects. Both of these assessments are valid. Both give me information that informs my practice. Both can really stress a kid out if they don’t have the skills or support. And, both can bring a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Animatic Project for Shakesfair 2018

The difference is that one can also be an entertaining and educational way to connect with families and the community. It can inspire creativity, and it can celebrate individuality. It can encompass so many aspects of a child’s intelligence, skills, and talents. I can tell you without a doubt that the projects my students create prove their understanding of the material we cover in class. They also extend the learning, showing the reading, writing, communication, and research skills I am teaching them. These are valid assessments, and they also “display information flexibly and dynamically.”

On the down side, projects can be a royal pain. They are messy, hard to manage, and time-consuming. They require a teacher to set firm guidelines and offer support in ways he or she never imagined, like problem-solving last-minute tech issues for an Animatic animation, or finding creative ways to serve non-alcoholic English trifle to hundreds of guests. While projects bring out the most creative and imaginative attributes of most students, they bewilder and frustrate others, often those with special needs. To avoid these pitfalls, projects take tons of preparation, patience, and dedication.

I am committed to assessing my students with projects several times a year. Sometimes these are project-based learning activities, and sometimes they are just projects. To understand the difference, check out the handy table here. Some of my project-based assessments are small, such as one day tasks chosen from a menu to show understanding of a text through multiple pathways. These are simple and not too terribly messy or complicated to score. Each grade level gets a couple big projects, too. Some are group projects, some are individual, and some are flexible. They choose. Student choice is paramount for successful projects. For all projects, I have carefully crafted rubrics and timelines and rules established over time. Of course, that was all accomplished through trial and error, pursuing a good idea and learning how terribly complicated it really was!

That said, project-based learning is not for every teacher. It takes a willingness to face the issues head on. It takes a lot of patience to guide students through the discomfort they often experience when they actually have choices. It takes a lot of nerve.

Now the nerve is what you need when you get to the publishing part. That part requires the PUBLIC. The public is your audience. They see the whole big, beautiful mess, with all of its warts and all of its wackiness. You have to be willing to let your students shine or fizzle in a public format. And that is very, very hard.

Historical Recipe Project

At our 14th Annual Shakesfair, my students were shining. Well, mostly. We had Renaissance Era a slightly messy smorgasbord of food – trifle, roast chicken, meat pies – served by enthusiastic students. We had music researched and played heroically by young musicians, and there was a variety of artwork created by students who surprised their classmates with their hidden talents. Others shared creative writing based on Shakespeare- short stories, poetry, and songs. Several this year chose analytical writing, critiquing plays and films and examining themes. A select few gave slide show presentations, and there were the always popular models of the globe theater. Students from previous years came in and begged to show the films they produced when they were freshmen, and we all enjoyed seeing their first attempts at film-making once again.

I have thirty freshmen this year and well over a hundred visitors joined them. Parents, grandparents, staff, upperclassmen, and members of the community came and viewed their work, displayed “flexibly and dynamically.”

It was an exhausting time. The project overlaps with a full month of our Shakespeare unit, but the last week is a flurry of activity. And, to top it off, I was proctoring the 7th grade assessment for three hours on the day of the event, with no prep time. Luckily, my students in my afternoon classes chipped in to help set up, and clean up was well-managed and fast. I have a system.

To those brave and crazy enough to take on project-based learning, I am here to tell you that it is worth it. You will never forget the creativity and enthusiasm of your students, and the praise of their families. And, neither will they.

Ubiquitous Globe Theater Project

=========================================================================

Do you assess with projects? Tell me how your students publish their work and create products to share.

Welcome Back to School, Parents!

Every year my school has a Back to School Night for parents the evening before school starts. Children and parents move freely from room to room, greeting teachers, checking out the gym and library, signing up for the PTSA. We end the evening with some food out on the playground. And we start school the next day.

Every year I have my own Back to School Night for the parents in my room sometime in the first week of school. The children are not invited. For one thing, there isn’t enough room, and for another, they’ve already heard everything I’m going to say.

I tell the parents all the details that I’ve already told the students about rules, policies, and procedures, including how I communicate with parents during the year. I tell them about the curriculum and grading. I seek out classroom volunteers.

Then I talk about how important I consider parents to be. I have taught since 1977, and I’ve taught gifted since 1983. I have the MA plus 90 plus I’ve lost track of how many credits since then. I just keep taking classes. (I went to a great set of classes this summer!)

I have a wealth of experience and expertise in my field.

But I see students for, at most, about six hours each day. I am educating their child for a year.

Parents have their children for their whole lives.

Parents have the wealth of experience and expertise in their own children.

I tell parents I see us as partners, and, in many ways, I see myself as the junior partner as we work together.

I can help them understand the demands of the educational system, but they can help me understand the needs of their child.

Having that kind of attitude toward parents helps build collaborative relationships, as well as mutual respect.

Sometimes I need to do more. One time a parent was trying to have her child placed in the self-contained gifted class—in my classroom. The teachers who knew her came up to me and warned me about her, how pushy she was, how hard to get along with.

The day she came to my classroom to tell me her son had been accepted into my class, I threw my arms wide and said, “Welcome to my room!”

I made her cry. From that moment on I could do no wrong.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I do wrong all the time. I made mistakes and screw up with the best of them. But I have a good working relationship with my parents. So most times they come to me to talk to me about what I did.

Last year at spring conferences, at the end of the conference, one mom took a deep breath and said, “Jan, I have to tell you, you said something that really bothered me.”

“Oh, no, what did I say?”

She told me, and I responded, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” I apologized thoroughly.

(I was probably 40 years old before I figured this out: Don’t explain. Don’t defend yourself. Just apologize.)

We talked some more and on the way out I asked, “Do you forgive me?”

She laughed and said, “Of course!”

Light and easy.

Having a collaborative relationship really helps with dual identified children, or with children who are gifted and have other social-emotional needs. I had so many of those last year. I was in daily contact with several parents, just to keep them abreast of how things were going in the classroom. I would hear back about how things were going at home. Between us, we tried to keep all those little ships on an even keel.

Every year I look forward to greeting my new students. But every year I also look forward to greeting my new team of adults—who will help me work with those students—the parents of my students.

To Appreciate a Teacher…

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the cookies.

Those intricately decorated, apple-shaped cookies: I do appreciate those.

And the bacon. That pound of pepper-bacon a group of students gave me after I used a few too many example sentences including bacon in our practice with diagramming sentences.

Then there are notes: Brief or lengthy, the notes from parents, students, former students from over a decade ago whose teenaged face immediately appears the moment I see the name on the return address. Those keep me going and make me feel appreciated, for sure, and are among my most cherished items.

I’ve been lucky that those kinds of little surprises haven’t been relegated to just one week in the year when websites offer discounts or coupons and businesses encourage patrons to “thank a teacher.”

This year for Teacher Appreciation Week, what will really make teachers feel appreciated? Maybe a cookie or a pound of bacon, but most definitely a specific kind of little note will do. A phone call, maybe. A visit to an office. More specifically: notes, phone calls, emails, office visits to our legislative policymakers. That’s how teachers will feel appreciated. Call for a budget that fully funds Washington public schools, not to “throw money at the problem,” but to invest in a system that for the last forty years has been perpetually under-invested in. Call for policies that make sense for kids, parents, communities, and schools. The voices of teachers in this battle are too often discounted as shrill, complainy, or as base union thuggery. The voices of parents, students, and community members are what policymakers have a harder time ignoring.

Teachers know that we are appreciated at the immediate, local level, with our kids and parents. We are thankful for that, for sure. We love the cookies, the treats, and the notes: Those put the wind back in our sails without a doubt.

But this year, consider one phone call, one note, or one office visit to your elected officials who are struggling to get their work done. Little by little those small gestures of appreciation will add up and make a huge difference not just to “appreciate teachers,” but to transform the lives of kids.


Image Source