Category Archives: Professional Development

Equity: From Policy to Practice

This past Tuesday, I spoke at our local school board meeting in favor of a draft Board Policy taking a proactive stance on educational equity in our system. Over the last few months, I’ve been tangentially involved with reviewing and revising this proposed policy, and as it nears final approval, I wanted to be sure to voice my position about why we need an “equity policy.”

Early on in this work, I felt that the policy was rather controversy-free. It called out the need for our system to take proactive steps to ensure equitable outcomes for all learners, regardless of race, gender, socioeconomic status or disability. How could that raise controversy?

I learned something quickly, though: Talking equity for students with disabilities? No sweat. For kids in poverty? People are all-in. Gender? Hardly a ripple, despite the struggles many have accepting the reality that non-binary and transgender students exist.

Race? A much different story.

That we would propose a policy addressing racial equity was baffling to many people… staff and community members alike.

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Learning to Change

“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking.

It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.”

― Albert Einstein

My world of teaching has been in a four-grade classroom for a number of years now – all subjects, all students, 5th-8th grades. This has lead to a process of thinking and teaching that includes all sorts of skills for differentiating instruction and juggling the inevitable pulling ahead and tugging back of student abilities.

But, last year I became painfully aware of that my “usual” operations were not working for this particular grouping of students. I could tell their needs were not being fully met and frankly, I was getting burned out trying to span the range of abilities. I needed a change in my thinking surrounding teaching and learning. I began to explore other approaches to teaching and took what I found to my students. I knew that this level of massive change would be akin to fixing a plane while flying it. I needed everyone on board, to be…on board!

We decided on an approach rooted in personalized learning and with the added feature of flexible seating. Gulp! Big changes!

What I have found most fascinating throughout this experience has been the way in which we have collectively experienced these changes. When I first told my students about flexible seating and how they would get to design the classroom, they were ecstatic! Big sheets of paper, markers and ideas were strewn about as the students set out to “design” our space. Unsurprisingly, every group featured beanbags. Yet, surprisingly, two of the groups had neatly arranged their beanbags into rows of five by four. Changing thinking is tricky…

The 2019-21Operating Budget request has been released by Superintendent Reykdal. In this budget, there is a $37 million increase in spending for professional development to occur over the next two years. This request seeks to allow for more comprehensive, on-going and content-relative opportunities to develop professionally. This emphasis on sustainable change is reflective of the latest research in what makes for effective professional development. Inherent in this quality of professional development is the process of change on behalf of educators.

The concept of moving from “sage on the stage” to “guide on the side” is not new in the field of education. I had honestly thought I had mastered the guiding/coaching side of teaching. A personalized learning approach seemed a natural fit for my students and me. What I have come to discover is that this first six weeks of school has been a steep learning curve, backed with a lot of online professional development as I have reflected on the philosophy of personalized learning and how I am implementing it in my classroom. It turns out the “stage” is awful hard to step away from. Changing thinking is hard…

Education is in a transformative state across the nation and across our state as we work together to prepare our students for the futures before them. We must change our thinking to meet their changing futures. This level of transformative change in the classroom and in our teaching requires time, effort and resources. The operating budget set forth by Superintendent Reykdal allows for the time to implement such changes. The vast majority of educators I know are willing to put in the effort for change – that is if it is “real” and worthy. Now, it will be interesting to see how the availability of resources unfolds to meet the challenge of changing our thinking.

Short Talk on Teacher-Leaders

It’s too early to feel this tired. But that is the word about school—in the copy room, teacher’s lounge, at meetings. Teachers are tired. Teaching is an exhausting job and there are millions of ways to wear out within it, but one element occurring to me is the (relatively) newly developed idea of a teacher-leader.

I think the term is a positive evolution, and it is one often worn with pride. I’ve been thinking about the idea of teacher-leader for some time, and I think the recent bargaining rounds coupled with a new team in my school has brought these ideas to the forefront of my mind. Plus, I read a great deal of writing by Tom Rademacher this summer. He’s become one of my favorite voices in education. Direct, explicit at times, but honest in important always. Here is a great piece about what is sustainable for teachers. It speaks exactly to why I think everyone in my building is haggard. I admire Rademacher’s ability to hold cynicism and optimism in one space—something teachers do on a daily basis. In my role as English chair, I tell my department, my pessimism comes from a sincere desire for optimism. And it does.

The idea of teacher-leaders is not new, and it is a good idea. The term floating through the air at my school is “flatten the hierarchy.” I believe it is necessary to have teachers join the larger conversations about education. Ideas in schools should come from the ground up and include as many voices as possible. I like that our professional development days involve presentations from our own teachers. I like that the presentations are not slotted with outside “experts” telling other teachers what they should do, but teachers/friends/colleagues who are sharing what they have tried in their classroom. We have veterans and younger teachers alike presenting. It is bumpy, slightly messy (mostly because everyone is already taxed), but is going in the right direction.

Here is the question puzzling me: how can we do it without stretching teachers to the point of unhealthy exhaustion? How do we make space for thoughtful reflection and philosophical and invigorating discussion and sharing in a profession so rife with practical demands? I agree with Rademacher—students first. But those larger conversations at conferences, at district offices, in-building presentations, at negotiation tables, in picket lines, in books come from an intentionality to create the greatest conditions for students. I don’t think that is lost for anyone. The demands on teachers have always been great, and the added dimension of teacher-leader extends them exponentially.

Perhaps leadership roles should come with class reductions, sabbatical like? Perhaps, we should reduce class hours overall and provide more breaks, Finlandesque? Here is a peek in a teacher’s lounge in Finland, where coffee breaks become professional development. Plus, they have massages.

These ideas involve policy decisions far above my pay-grade. And might not work. I’ll admit, these days I’m more interested in finding good questions than answers. More interested in failing well than success—both in the classroom and as a department chair.
Enter the new leadership model experiment in my building: the Professional Risk Takers (PTR). It is an interesting idea. Our main objective is to direct and lead professional development for our staff. Our job is to live in the discomfort of holding “model classrooms,” remaining open to learning walks (both leading them and welcoming adults into our classes), taking time during our prep period to reflect and discuss together. The idea is to live more in a professionally vulnerable space. It is going to be more work, and tiring, I think it is a step in the right direction. I think it will be difficult in all the right ways, hopefully invigorating, energizing, and sustaining.

Setting the Stage for Learning

“Mommy made me mash my M&M’s,” trills from the nervous troupe of twenty-five on the stage. Kindergarten to high school, these children are all warming up their voices for this summer’s presentation of “Alice in Wonderland” to be presented at our community theater. It is an all-children production; children will be acting, building sets, running lights and generally spending their summer months of June and July busily learning the art of theater. Wow! It is a whirlwind of creativity and intense focus!

I sit in the seats and watch the artful director as she manages her cast and the chaos about her. She is a natural and is adept at bringing out talent in her students. She is trained. She is skilled. She is volunteering.

Who knows who might be on the stage in front of me; the next Bette Midler (cleverly disguised as the girl who is constantly poking the boy next to her and giggling) or James Dean, who sits nonchalantly at the edge of the stage taking it all in, coolly removed from the preparation of it all and yet, on cue, his voice solos a piece that draws you deeper into the play. Each child is actively discovering and shining their own diamonds in the rough.

I want this moment in my classroom; this theater, this drama, this drawing out of students’ talent. Butand yet

But, I do not have the skills nor the training to finesse such a dynamic. I can clearly see the skill set the director before me has on display. It is a different type of with-it-ness than what I use in the classroom. It is an odd blend of “more loose” and yet more commanding. She knows how to spatially place her players and what will and will not work onstage. Her visions are grandiose. She makes bold statements of how a scene will play and I think, “What? They can’t do that. It is too complicated.” And yet, as if by the magic of the theater, the action takes almost immediate form on stage. She is skilled and gifted in theater. Neither of these are traits I possess.

And yet, it is clear that our state has fully embraced requiring schools to provide these opportunities for self-expression in the form of theater, dance, music, and the visual arts. As of 2017, we have adopted new Arts Learning Standards. These standards are being assessed in-district, using OSPI developed assessments. As a school, we recently completed a school accountability survey set forth by the Office Superintendent of Public Instruction of what we are currently offering our students in the Arts. How many hours are we providing per week? Who is providing the instruction? As a staff, in a small rural school, we often have to be very creative in how we make these experiences happen for our students.

Should schools require the arts to be taught in school? YES! According to the Dana Foundation, the Arts increases attention skills, spatial skills and motivation. Not only do these contribute to an increase in reading and math test scores, they impact a person’s entire life beyond academics. The ability to pay attention, to see connections in space relative to themselves or between concepts, and a desire to go and do? These are basic foundational needs that all learners need in order to be successful in their lives beyond school.

Should the state provide funding for teaching the arts? YES! Currently, there is not funding allocated specifically for the instruction of the Arts at the elementary school level. Our school supports our Arts Program through fundraising and grant writing. These tasks are often placed on the shoulders of our staff. Both of these are time-intensive tasks that take away from the education of students. It should not be this way.

Why do the Arts even matter? The answer to this could – and has – filled many a book. For me, on this sunny summer morning, the answer is in the awkward teen whose entire demeanor changes as he sets foot on the stage – shoulders lifted, a broad smile; he is in his element. His voice rolls forth in a solid sound, “Mommy made me mash my M&M’s!” So silly…so freeing…so theatrical! His face is one of newly found confidence; a new found self.

The power of art to not only to express who you are, but to learn who you are.

Teacher Leaders: Letting Our Light Shine

Early in May, the Washington Teacher Advisory Council hosted a conference with the title Vision and Voice: The Future Is Now. Award-winning educators from all over the state gathered to share ideas and learn from one another. The conference was packed with high-powered teacher leaders that I admire- educators with blogs I love, whose podcasts I listen to, whose advice I have taken, and whose encouragement has bolstered me. We even kicked off our first evening with a keynote from the newly minted National Teacher of the Year, Mandy Manning. What an amazing experience to be among my educator heroes!

As I reflect on that event, I am so grateful to all of the amazing teacher leaders I have encountered over my career, and I know that their impact on my own practice has been immeasurable. I never fail to be inspired. I always learn. I return to my classroom reinvigorated and ready to shine my own light.

I teach English, so I my love of figurative language should come as no surprise. When I think of “light” as a metaphor for learning– from the proverbial “light bulb” moment to “lighting a fire,” these images work for me. As an educator, I’m all about creating light, spreading it, and feeling its warmth.

But there can be more to it than just bringing your light to your classroom and sharing it with your students. If you have talents to share, if you can inspire others, then you may see it as your responsibility to become a teacher leader. You’ve heard the phrase, “Don’t hide your light under a bushel,” right? We have the responsibility to give back to our colleagues, our communities and our profession whenever we are able.

That phrase about the bushel sticks with me. So often, as a professional, as a woman, as a child of poverty, I was in situations in which I was expected to know my place, to stay quiet, to comply and fade into the background. Something inside me has always rebelled at this, some idea that I can do more good for others if I stop dwelling on my own insecurities or a twisted sense of modesty or humility. (See Imposter Syndrome Ted Talk)

In a letter to her younger self, Hilary Clinton tells how her sixth grade teacher told her not to hide her light under a bushel basket. She passes this advice on to other young girls in this Teen Vogue article.

So what is this “bushel basket” all about? It’s from the New Testament. In the King James version Matthew 5:15 says, “Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.” Now, historically, a bushel was a container for goods, such as grain, that became a unit of measure. So this is a bit weird in modern terms. But you get the idea. In this context, the light could be your faith, but it can also be your wisdom, your learning, your spark. Why hide a light?

 

Beyond that, if you have it, share it. An old Italian proverb says, “A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.” We educators know that sharing our wisdom, our learning and our knowledge is the greatest gift we have to give. When it is needed, we must be ready to share. And we lose nothing in the sharing of it.

It’s relatively easy to go to our individual classrooms and share our knowledge. Teacher leaders take it a step further: staff trainings, mentoring, coaching, conference presentations, blogging, etc. That light that such teachers share grows exponentially.

We all have different talents, viewpoints, strategies and solutions to share. There are many paths to leadership, as varied as the individuals themselves. Some lead by supporting their colleagues on a day-to-day basis. Others take their show on the road, spreading their light leading professional development or giving keynote speeches. Some blog or participate in chats on Twitter. Some take a path that leads them out of the classroom and into administration, but, as long as their hearts are still in the classroom, they lead as teachers.

Now let me take this a step further. Where there is light, there is darkness. And let’s face it; there have been some dark moments in our schools recently. There are dark issues faced by our students and our colleagues. To fight the darkness, we need to rally behind the light. We teachers can do so much to help our students as they face the future, as they become the problem-solvers of tomorrow. As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., famously said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” (from his “Love Your Enemies” speech) 

 

Don’t we have a responsibility to lead? To lead our students, and perhaps also our colleagues and communities? Find your way to bring the light. As Oprah Winfrey says, “You have to find what sparks a light in you so that you, in your own way, can illuminate the world.” (from the finale show) 

As for me, I’m all in on this light metaphor. I’m going to let my light shine, and, furthermore, “I am on until I am dead, like a light bulb,” as Henry Rollins once said. (from Henry Rollins: Still Angry After All These Years, LA Weekly)

So, get out there and shine, my teacher leader friends. You are needed now more than ever to strengthen our profession and guide our students through troubling times.

Remember:
“Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.” – Maya Angelou

 

On Google and Soft Skills and Things We Already do Well

21st century skills. Individual learning. STEM. These are just a few of the buzz words flitting around students heads as they prepare for their lives beyond high school.

The push for STEM has been strong and consistent for years now (8-10 depending on who you ask). STEM has been prescribed as necessary for students to survive in a world we cannot imagine and for jobs that do not exist. The truth is that education has always been possibly training students for jobs that do not exist in an unimaginable world. The details have changed, but the general progression of society and culture has not. How could it?

Two recent research projects at Google “Project Oxygen,” and “Project Aristotle,” have studied the behemoth company intensely (not a surprise from Google) and discovered the following are the traits of their most successful employees:

Conclusions from “Project Oxygen” (2013) as reported in the Washington Post:

  • The seven top characteristics of success at Google are all soft skills: being a good coach; communicating and listening well; possessing insights into others (including others different values and points of view); having empathy toward and being supportive of one’s colleagues; being a good critical thinker and problem solver; and being able to make connections across complex ideas.

Conclusions from “Project Aristotle” (2017) as reported in the Washington Post:

  • Project Aristotle shows that the best teams at Google exhibit a range of soft skills: equality, generosity, curiosity toward the ideas of your teammates, empathy, and emotional intelligence. And topping the list: emotional safety. No bullying. To succeed, each and every team member must feel confident speaking up and making mistakes. They must know they are being heard.

As an English teacher it is hard for me to find these conclusions surprising. Both of these lists echo reasons to read literature of all sorts and across all time periods, and reasons to write analytically and reflectively. Reasons supported by scientists and personal experience alike. These conclusions are also solid support for the argument for a liberal arts education (I highly recommend Fareed Zakaria’s great book).

The Washington Post article focus on what Google’s conclusions mean for students, and as a teacher I cannot help thinking about what they mean for education as a whole.  I understand the desire to glom onto STEM as a focus for students, because the outcomes for STEM are, more often than not, tangible and measurable. Plus, STEM is really important. The outcomes for humanities classes often encompass (even when they zero in on tangible activities or skills) the above decidedly intangible set of soft skills. How do we measure a student’s capacity to “possess insights into others?” Or even measure critical thinking? These are inherently messy proposals.

My district and most of our surrounding districts have begun a process of embracing the ambiguity of this situation. We are learning about “Deep Learning.” Explaining deep learning is as convoluted and problematic as fostering generosity in a student. These are huge, abstract, human concepts. The question I keep finding at the forefront of my mind is this one: what differentiates “deeper learning” (or insert your own professional development term of choice here) from what we used to call “best practices?”

It increasingly seems to me that we have all the tools we need. Bloom’s taxonomy, questioning strategies, concept based learning, the teaching-learning cycle of assess, teach, experiment, assess, etc. I know the terms for these concepts and strategies varies, but the application does not. The application is as old as the allusion in Google’s research project: Aristotle. Or older even. I really do think education is more about how individual teachers connect and get individual students “there” (there being that “deeper,” epiphany-laden place…or Plato’s allegory for education: the cave—my other theory is that our job is just to keep leading students out of cave after cave after cave and to learn to see right alongside them as we move forward).

I don’t think there is a panacea. What if professional development took a deep breath and just let teachers do what they know how to do? What if pro-d just started pointing out things teachers are doing well? What if pro-d (and those that oversee it and evaluate teachers) practiced being good coaches, listening well, making sure teachers felt safe, supported, and heard? If we practiced this at the pro-d level nationally, state-wide, district by district, school by school, what would be the effect? Would it trickle down into the classroom and into the student’s lives?

My great concern is that studies like Google’s lead to a rash of “teaching empathy” lessons, where well-meaning educators explicitly teach soft skills. In my experience this is like explicitly teaching grammar. When I teach grammar in isolation, students become better grammarians, but not better writers. When I teach grammar in the context of the reading students engage with (no one better to teach complex sentences than David Foster Wallace), or in the context of their own writing, they become better writers. If we teach empathy in isolation of sympathetic characters, situations, or engaging details students might become better clinical psychologists (?) but not necessarily better practitioners of empathy in their daily or work lives. They need to experience it in realistic conditions.

I will put forth here that most teachers do this well already. I mean, those Google employees in the study are products of our school systems.  I believe teachers can focus on two primary things: 1) make students feel safe, 2) challenge them with rich content.

The Chronicle of Higher Ed offers a good list of the conditions ideal for learning: awareness of the subject matter, interest, motivation, relevance, engagement, reinforcement, and support. All seven of these are created naturally in a safe environment with rich content. I don’t intend to sound reductive, as this simple focus is extremely difficult. What could be more important?

National Boards: Let Me Tell You Why

Washington State just welcomed 1,434 new National Board Certified Teachers. That makes 10,135 statewide. The popularity and support of National Board Certification indicates an emphasis on quality education for the students of our state. We are fortunate to have support at a level that teachers in other states can only imagine.

Suddenly, all around me, teachers are taking notice and asking about National Boards. What is it like? Should they do it? Is it worth it?

Good questions. I think I have some answers.

I am a National Board Certified Teacher. And that matters. Now let me tell you why.

NBCTs demonstrate a new levels of dedication to their students. Certainly, I was thoroughly dedicated before I certified, as are the majority of teachers. I was the sort of teacher that was always looking for ways to improve my practice. I wanted to be the teacher my students deserved. And I was willing to work for it. This is just the sort of teacher that decides to pursue certification.

It takes a certain work ethic to pursue certification, but the extra work is worth it if students benefit. When it’s all said and done, certification is a badge of honor, proof of dedication.

NBCTs take increasing pride in their work. And yet there is a certain humility that we cultivate as well. We know that everything we do is grounded in our knowledge of our students and their needs.

I was the first in my small, rural district to certify. Hardly anyone seemed to notice at the time. Despite that, I was overflowing with pride in my achievement and a new level of confidence.

That newfound confidence led me to do something bold on that very day. I was looking for my name on the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards website. I just wanted to make sure it was there, that I really was an NBCT. An announcement on the webpage caught my eye. The NBPTS was looking for applicants for its English Language Arts Standards Committee.

I had just certified…just that day. But did that keep me from filling out an application? No, it did not. And, by some miracle, I ended up on that committee.

With the NBPTS ELA Standards Committee, I had the experience of working with passionate and talented educators from around the country, creating standards that made us all very proud. The experience left me with a weird mixture of humble gratitude and elevated confidence in my abilities.

My certificate- A student’s reflection is visible, if you look closely. It has a place of honor in my classroom, as a reminder to keep my students at the forefront of my practice.

For many NBCTs, the journey doesn’t end at certification. NBCTs don’t retreat from the work. They know that we have to continue growing and improving as professionals, just as we want our students to grow and improve.

My professional journey has made me a much better learner alongside my students. I have learned to adjust on the fly, and to tweak activities and instructional tools to work for individuals, small groups, and whole classes. And, most of all, I know that we are all works in progress. My students and myself, we have a lot of growing to do. My NBCT journey gave me the confidence to always be in the middle of it, never just coasting on what I have always done before.

NBCTs develop the courage to look back and ask hard questions about their practice. We know what it is like to be judged by our peers, and, as unnerving as it is, the growth we achieve through the process propels us, perpetually looking back in order to move forward. The NBCTs I talk to always say that the certification process forces them to increase their ability to reflect and seek feedback. There is always something that can improve.

If you are trying something new, if you are pushing yourself to improve, you will find yourself in uncomfortable territory, where failure is possible. Not everyone is up to this, but NBCTs are ready to reflect and to adjust their practice as needed.

NBCTs seek opportunities to collaborate with others to provide the best experiences for their students. That means reaching out to their colleagues, their communities, their online resources and beyond. Our access to ideas and support is virtually limitless. For years, this pursuit of a network of support has bolstered my practice, increasing my confidence and filling my toolbox full of instructional tricks of the trade.

With the new interest in National Board Certification in my rural region, it became part of my journey to become a cohort facilitator and help others on their path to certification.  Local cohorts like ours are making it possible to get rural educators on board.

This year, two of my colleagues certified; so there are three NBCTs in my district now, and five more candidates in the process. The fire that has been lit across the state has ignited in rural Lewis County after all.

So, if you or someone you know is considering National Board Certification, if you are wondering what all the fuss is about, let me tell you:

Through National Board Certification teachers validate their practice and gain confidence to take it to the next level. Certification begins a journey of professional development that can be richly rewarding.

I highly recommend it.

“Teachers are members of learning communities”

Earlier this week, Shari shared the great news about accomplished teaching here in Washington (1,435 teachers earned National Board Certification and 533 teachers renewed their National Board Certification in this last cycle).

When I earned my National Board Certification in 2006, I had no idea what an impact it was going to have on my career.

We often hear about the National Board Certification process: it fosters reflection on and close examination of student needs and our responsive practice. Many teachers who go through the process share how it helped focus their lens on how their knowledge of students informs practice as they move up that “Architecture of Accomplished Teaching.” There are those “Five Core Propositions” around which the process is centered, as well: Continue reading

On Your Mark, Get Set, Go!

With the recent news that 1,435 teachers recently earned National Board Certification and 533 teachers renewed National Board Certification, the State of Washington has much to celebrate. This achievement means a great deal to the teachers, districts, cohorts, and our state education system, including a variety of agencies and organizations that provide supports to those seeking certification. However, for those who’ve just earned certification, your race to the finish line might feel it’s over, but In fact, it’s just beginning.

Thirteen years ago I began my National Board Certification journey. I was a fourth year teacher, both new to Washington and my district.  I was the first in my district to attempt certification much less complete the process.  I remember trying to explain it to my students–many had never seen a video camera in the classroom before. Most people in my district hadn’t heard of this certification, much less how to support it. I struggled through the certification process without the supports that exist in the system today, but with the mindset that I would finish what I started.  And I did. In all transparency, I barely made it and certified by one point. That one point might have made the difference between certifying in 2005 versus 2006 but the process involved created more growth for me than just arriving at the destination.  After certifying, I took on a challenge.  I wanted to open the doors for other teachers to deeply analyze their practice using the structure and framework provided by the National Board process. This is where my leadership began. I wanted to be the person who helped clear the pathways so that others who wanted to, could travel with a bit more ease. Thirteen years later, I’m proud to say that my district has many National Board Certified Teachers and an effective cohort system that supports teachers and counselors as they journey down this road.

I oftentimes share with candidates that the process of earning National Board Certification is more of a marathon and less of a sprint.  Figuring out when to start the race depends on the individual teacher/counselor. There is no perfect time to start. I started the process at a critical time in my career. I was just past the triage stage–you know, when you’re staying up until midnight planning for tomorrow’s lesson, unsure of where you’re going or how to get there.  Now, I could see the big picture and better understand my pacing, skill development, and how to write assessments.  But I certainly didn’t feel settled. I needed National Board Certification to push me, to develop me, and to help me find more rhythm. I questioned the triage strategies and routines I’d already established. I needed this, like a runner needs fuel.  Analyzing my work fed my soul and honed my skills to make me a reflective practitioner.   

The growth didn’t just come from the process.  Certification was a pivotal turning point in my teaching career. Who knows, perhaps it was the one point differential that activated change in me.  Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush that comes from finding out that I certified.  But after learning that I certified, I began to see myself as a teacher leader.  I became more involved in organizations that promote and support highly effective teaching practices. I began advocating for students at a building and district level. I understood that my voice could be heard and that my personal struggle through the process brought validation and credibility to the table when I talked with administrators about the needs of students.  I took on more leadership roles, participated in building decision making, and felt inspired to be a change agent for my community.  I took risks–used cutting edge resources, created new lessons, developed new strategies and all the while, reflected upon each change to determine what worked, what didn’t, and why (a process I practiced through National Board and continue to use today).  And while many of my colleagues who aren’t NBCTs may be doing these things too, this certification caused me to go down this path.  The best part is, that my journey into teacher leadership is still ongoing. Like so many other NBCTs, my race isn’t over yet. Heck, we’re just now picking up speed. 

 

 

National Board Certification, the Second Time Around

Shelly Milne

Lately, I have been reading a lot about the importance of helping students develop a growth mindset. A student with a growth mindset knows she can grow through hard work and perseverance. Right now, I am totally embracing the concept of the “not yet” mind set. Thank you, Carol Dweck, for celebrating the idea of encouraging students to ‘stick with’ hard things. This concept is especially important to me because I have been a National Board Certified Teacher in Early Adolescence English-Language Arts (EA ELA) since 2004, and three years ago I decided to attempt certification in new area.

After renewing my certification in English-Language Arts, I moved to the position of Library Media Specialist in my building. As a Jump Start trainer and year-long National Board candidate support provider, I started reading the standards for Library Media Certification, and, yes, I saw some connections to my language arts standards, but I also noticed other areas that were unique to Library Media. I started thinking, “I need to learn these new standards and work on a second National Board Certification.”

Now achieving National Board Certification in Library Media is important to me because, after spending over three years working as a Teacher-Librarian, I realize the role and importance of Library Media Specialists is not fully understood. I earned a Library Media Endorsement from Antioch University three years ago, and before that experience I didn’t really know the significance of the role either. Earlier this school year, I was asked to cover another teacher’s class. I said, “I would, but I have a 5th grade library class coming in at that time.”

I was surprised when I heard this response, “We’ll get someone else to cover the library, so you can cover a core language arts class.” Fortunately, I have been around awhile, so I felt comfortable saying, “No, I am going to stay with the class I prepared to teach because I am doing important work in the library.” This attitude that library media is an extra add-on that isn’t as important as core classes is something I would like to address as a teacher-leader and earning my Library Media Certification will help me with this task.

I may be feeling anxious about finding out my scores, but working on a second certification has reminded me of just how much courage it takes to open up your practice for evaluation. It’s more than just a considerable time commitment. As a National Board Candidate, you tell assessors what you did; how and why you did it that way; and share student results and your reflection on the process. Then you send in your work and wait…and wait…and wait some more. Waiting for the score report where assessors tell you how much evidence of accomplished practice they found in your written commentary and other submitted artifacts. No teacher wants to read the words: shows little or no evidence of accomplished teaching practice.

So like all candidates who are waiting for their scores, I am nervous. As a National Board support provider, I am also nervous for the candidates I have been working with for the last three years. I know first hand how much energy, time, and commitment they have invested in this process. When they started in 2014, they didn’t know what score it would take to certify, but they were willing to open their practice to scrutiny and start the journey toward certification. I have the utmost respect for the pioneers of the NB 3.0.

I have been rehearsing what I will say to people if I don’t certify on my first attempt in this new certification area. When people ask I plan to remember the work of Carol Dweck and simply say, “Not yet.” This mindset is actually not a new concept for me. I have always embraced the “not yet” mindset. Not yet just means I am continuing to grow. As a 30+ year educator, a growth mindset makes sense. In over thirty years in this profession, I have never completed a school year, and yelled at the end, “I nailed it! All of it!” This teaching thing is complex. Like all accomplished educators, I always end the year reflecting on where I nailed it, and where I missed the mark.

So even though I am a little nervous as I anticipate Score Release Day on December 16. I do know this if my score is 110 or more, I will celebrate with all the thousands of new NBCTs across the country, and if my score is 109 or less I am still going to celebrate the growth I have experienced so far after digging deeper into what an accomplished Library Media Specialist knows and is able to do. After seeing my scores, I will do what I have always done. I will roll up my sleeves and decide what I need to learn, understand, and show in my next attempt because that’s what accomplished teachers do every single day.

 

Biography: Shelly Milne is National Board Certified Teacher in Early Adolescence English Language Arts. LA. She certified in 2004, and renewed in 2012. Four years ago, she moved from a 7th grade Humanities classroom teacher at Cashmere Middle School into the position of teacher-librarian. She earned her endorsement in library media from Antioch University. She is currently a National Board Candidate in Library Media. She provides candidates with yearlong support and works as a Washington Education Association Jump Start Trainer. She’s also member of the National Education Association Jump Start Team.