Yes, Things Have Changed

I am retiring at the end of this year, and people keep asking me, “How have things changed?”

ONE

I can’t tell you how many systems of school-wide discipline I’ve trained in over the years. Yet student behavior seems to get worse. Students tearing things off the walls. Throwing tantrums. Screaming. Assaulting other students—and staff. Running away from adults, from classrooms, from school.

Recently I walked by a student trampling in the garden area by the office. I pointed out the sign telling people to stay out of the area and asked him to move to the sidewalk. He looked up at me and said, “I don’t know who you are.”

I said, “I’m Mrs. Kragen. I teach fourth and fifth grade here.”

He shrugged and said, “You aren’t my teacher” and went back to romping through the greenery.

It used to be that any adult—teacher, para, substitute, parent volunteer—could tell a child what to do, and the expectation was that the child would mind. Now children think the only adults they need to pay any attention to are the ones they know. The ones that have established a relationship with them.

I see it at home too. I told a neighbor child not to throw rocks at other kids. The father showed up at my doorstep later. He told me not to tell his child how to behave. I said, “But your child was throwing rocks at someone else!” He said, “Tell me what he did. I will deal with it.”

At the same time, everyone says, “It takes a village to raise a child.” That always makes me laugh. When my husband studied at Syracuse, we knew international students from Africa. They told us that, in Africa, the saying means that any adult has the right—actually, the responsibility—to rebuke and discipline any child.

At Johns Hopkins summer programs for gifted youth, everyone wears an identity card on a lanyard. Staff lanyards are blue, and students are red.

As I explained to a child who had gotten into trouble, “See this lanyard? Mine is blue. It means I get to tell you what to do.”

I think having a system like that at school would be a great idea.

Find Your Joy: Lessons from the Tennis Court

Find Your Joy:  Lessons from the Tennis Court

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

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

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

  1. You can’t win ‘em all 

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

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

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

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

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

  1. Go easy on yourself 

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

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

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

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

  1. Take your time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

HC with ADHD

A recent Professional Development training had to do with Multi-Disciplinary Support Services (MTSS). The goal was to adjust and strengthen our current MTSS systems to create equitable opportunity and access to instruction/supports for all students. It made me think of the most common group of twice-exceptional students that I teach: students identified as Highly Capable who are also identified as ADHD.

Obviously, I work with all my students on behavioral skills and organizational skills. But there are certain things I do that are specifically geared toward helping my ADHD students.

FIRST

Because ADHD is so common with my Highly Capable (HC) clientele, I set up my classroom each year specifically to address their needs. I learned 40 years ago that the bulletin boards are the most distracting things for that population in the classroom. The least distracting is the view out the window. Therefore, as much as possible, I put the bulletin boards directly behind the desks so the students have to turn around to look at them. The walls on the sides are as clean and clutter-free as I can make them.

Then I orient all the student desks to face the windows.

One of my principals came into my room in August the first year I was in his building.  He saw the way I had set things up and asked, “Why are all your desks facing the window?”

I said, “If you were sitting in these chairs for hours every day, what would you rather be looking at—the window or the whiteboard?”

He agreed the window was more appealing. “But how do they see the board?” he asked, gesturing to the right.

“They turn to look at it.”

He was still confused. “But where is the front of the room?”

I walked around the room a bit, his head swiveling to look at me, and replied, “Wherever I am!”

guest speakers in the “front” of the room

SECOND

I give my students something to do with their hands. Fidget spinners were wildly popular for a while, but I found them intensely distracting. I went to a conference and got a different idea. Before Covid-19, the bottom of each desk in my room had a square of soft, furry cloth taped to it. I didn’t announce that fact. The kids discovered it and told each other. I never noticed them using it. In fact, I thought the strategy was a dud, that no one was using it. Then one day I asked, “Does anyone ever use the cloth on the bottom of the desk to help calm down?”

Every single hand went up.

Post-Covid, I had to remove the cloths from the desks. My next idea was to wind really furry pipe cleaners around a desk strut—something personal that kids could remove and take home with them when we moved desks.

Your Turn: What does culturally responsive teaching look like in your district?

We asked our bloggers to tell us about their experience with culturally responsive teaching. We asked them:

What does culturally responsive teaching look like in your district?

How are you and the educators you know using relationships to connect with students, honor their individuality and support academic achievement?

Gretchen Cruden

“We embrace learning that connects to their real lives…”

Culturally responsive teaching may look a little different in our school. I work in a high-poverty, extremely rural school. Example? We are so rural that we are defined as a frontier school and have had “cougar patrol” as part of our playground supervisory activities. That said, our school embraces what our students walk in the door with and honor it. We are a culture of “make do” and “outside the box” thinking because our students often do have to be creative in their problem solving in their home environments. We embrace learning that connects with their real lives including studying outdoor survival skills, gardening and dissecting parts of animals their families have hunted. These lessons honor their home lives and connect families to the school. In this way, our school embraces and supports our students’ backgrounds and helps build bridges to adjacent possibilities as they grow in their academics.

Lynne Olmos

“…more celebrations of diverse cultures could benefit us all.”

For all the time I have worked in my small, rural district, there has been a sort of self-congratulatory attitude in our district. We are proud of our students of color and how successful they are in our schools. However, that success is really a tribute to their hard work more than it is to any sort of outreach or responsive programs built into the system. Latinx families make up around 35% of our community, and, though we have a migrant support program that hosts occasional events and the standard English language learner supports, we don’t do a great deal to celebrate Latinx culture. Our kids are awesome, and some of our teachers go the extra mile to embrace the diverse cultures in our classrooms. However, there is a need for a more culturally responsive system.

Every now and then, we get the opportunity to celebrate our diversity. One very cool opportunity that landed in my classroom recently was through a national project funded by the CDC and managed by the Olympia Family Theater. The project, entitled Fully Vaxxed, utilized the input of bilingual youth from our school and a few others to write plays about the impact of the Covid vaccines on Latinx communities. Three of my students participated in the program, and our Drama Club attended opening night to celebrate their work. It was awesome! 

We really do a great job supporting all students in my district, but more celebrations of diverse cultures could benefit us all. Everyone deserves to see their home language, culture, and traditions represented, respected, and honored in their school environment.

Emma-Kate Schaake

“I want students to know they have strengths in their cultural, linguistic, and ethnic backgrounds…”

I am grateful to have a district and department with enough funding to have some creativity in lesson planning and curriculum. Last year, I was able to buy four class sets of contemporary young adult books for book groups and that unit was the best engagement I had online by far. The English teacher saying that books should be windows into other perspectives or mirrors into your own is almost trite by now, but still incredibly true. 

The books we read allowed students to share their own experiences and empathize with the characters. As much choice as I can offer in my curriculum, the better. I want students to know they have strengths in their cultural, linguistic, and ethnic backgrounds, regardless. So often, students do not see themselves in texts (especially those written by old, dead, white men) and I try to deviate from that norm as much as I can.


So now it is your turn.

Tell us how your school responds to the culture of its students. How do you connect with your students, honor their culture, and support their academic achievement?

Just Say No To Learning Styles

According to a survey in 2017, 93% of the public and 76% of educators believe in the theory of learning styles. It’s a pervasive idea. It’s appealing. It’s obvious.

Even though it’s wrong.

As its essence, the idea behind learning styles instruction is:

  • children who are visual learners learn best with visual instruction
  • children who are auditory learners learn best with auditory instruction
  • children who are kinesthetic learners learn best with kinesthetic instruction

However, experiments don’t bear this premise out. “If classification of students’ learning styles has practical utility, it remains to be demonstrated.”

Dr. Dylan Wiliam from the Institute of Education, University College London, argues that the whole premise of learning-styles research—that the purpose of instructional design is to make learning easy—may be incorrect. “If students do not have to work hard to make sense of what they are learning, then they are less likely to remember it in six weeks’ time.”

In other words, the learning styles movement wanted to make learning easy. But people learn best when learning is more challenging.

Especially if it’s more interesting.

Not only that, but teachers and students may have very different ideas of what each child’s “learning styles” are.

In a study published in Frontiers in Education, researchers interviewed nearly 200 fifth and sixth grade students, asking them to choose their preferred learning style (visual, auditory, or kinesthetic). Then their teachers were asked to identify each student’s preferred learning styles.

There was no significant correlation between the teachers’ judgements and the students’ own assessments. Clearly, the styles aren’t as obvious as some might expect!

If you, as a teacher, are a strong verbal or auditory learner, you should learn to incorporate extra kinesthetic activities like “vote with your feet.” However, you aren’t doing the activities to make your kinesthetic learners suddenly become better students. You are adding the activities to make your classroom experience richer for everyone. In the same way, you ought to incorporate extra visuals into your instruction: art, maps, charts, graphs, cartoons.

In my classroom, everyone learns to take 2- and 3-column notes (the third column giving space for questions or doodles). I also show everyone how to take notes in a more visually interesting way. In the end, students will choose the way that suits them best.

Constructing Equitable Schools: One Block at a Time

Legos for Big Kids

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

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

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

Constructing Knowledge

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

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

Let’s dig into the lego metaphor. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Widening Our Perspectives 

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

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

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

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

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

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

All I Ever Needed to Learn about Teaching I Learned…in the Barn?

This blog is about the intersection of my teaching life and my relationship with horses. Not a horse person? No problem. You might have another passion – cats, science fiction, woodwork… It hardly matters. The reality is that analogies are powerful pathways to learning. When we make connections, we gain insight.

Horsemanship strategies have had a bigger impact on my teaching style than any professional development, administrator, or mentor. Most of the lessons I have learned from my four-legged friends would be labeled social/emotional learning, but they also touch on trauma-informed teaching, restorative practices, and student engagement.

Here are just a few truths I have learned from those big beasts:

Fear is not an effective tool for training or discipline.

Adult humans often assume that their status as the elder and more powerful in a relationship affords them the right to insist on hard work and good behavior. Honestly, some students (and horses) are conditioned to respond to this behavior, doing whatever the boss says and trying hard to please. On the other hand, many sensitive creatures do not operate well under these conditions. Just because you have the power does not mean you can force or threaten a kid (or a horse) to do your bidding. They may do it, but it will not be their best work, and it will not be for the best reason. If you want to truly inspire a great performance, you need a trusting relationship.

Building trust takes time.

With any creature, you cannot ask too much too soon. With a horse, you need to take time to prove that you mean no harm. You have to let the animal adjust to your presence, and you have to earn their trust through consistency and fair treatment. This is so true of students, too. Push them too hard before you have earned their trust, and you might break that trust forever. You cannot demand hard work or ask them to take risks if they don’t really know or trust you. Time. You have to invest time in your students to see the best results.

A good leader does not have to be a bully to earn respect.

Once trust is achieved, you can work on building respect for your leadership in the classroom. This is similar to working with horses. They are big and can be dangerous, so it is important that they respect and honor the space of their human leader. It is similar with kids. If they trust you, and you establish firm and fair boundaries, true respect can be earned. They will be happy to do as you ask, without any dramatic effort on your part. With horses, this is all about body language, how you move, where you stand. They are creatures who communicate in silence quite effectively. With students, physical cues are also important, but we humans mainly use words to establish boundaries and build trust. One thing you never do with a horse is block its avenue of escape when it is stressed. This is also wise with students; always give them agency and voice, and you will earn their respect.

You have to give clear cues to get good results.

When you are riding a horse and you ask it to move a particular direction, there is a specific cue for that movement. If you are inconsistent in how you ask, the response will also be inconsistent. The creature is trying to understand your language, but how can it make the correct response if you keep changing the request? Imagine how frustrating it is for any learner when the rules keep changing, or when the instructions are unclear. The only cure in these instances is clear and consistent instruction. If you want students to succeed, they need clarity, consistency and repetition, along with support they can turn to as needed.

“Drive” and “draw” are the keys to engagement.

Recently, I have dabbled in “liberty” training, where the horse is free to interact with you, no equipment, just you on the ground giving cues and trying to get the horse to respond to them. It is very challenging. You have to have a way to send or drive the horse away from you, and then an even more powerful method of “drawing” it back to you. A strong drive is putting them to work and a strong draw is getting their undivided attention. Done right, it looks like magic. In reality, it is the product of good horse and human relationships, clear cues, and rewards for good responses. I see the application to the classroom here, too. I want drive. I want kids to work hard, take risks, and struggle when I ask it of them. I want them to respect my requests and take me seriously. Beyond that, I also want draw. I want them to join up and listen when asked. I want them to be curious about what we are doing next. I want them to be looking for the benefits of our interactions.


Horses are wise teachers and they have taught me to listen carefully, and not just to words. They have taught me to be respectful to earn respect, and to leave a little wiggle room to relieve anxiety. They have humbled me and helped me to understand that I am more powerful in my connections when I am thoughtful, intentional, and kind.

You may not have the privilege of learning these lessons from big beasts like mine, but you get the idea. We become wiser when we are open to the lessons around us. What we learn from our experiences, we can bring to our classrooms to be just a bit better for the students we teach.

I am interested in the philosophies and influences that other educators bring to their work. Where did you learn “everything you needed to know”? Do you have some analogies to share? Leave some ideas in the comments and we can learn from each other.

Meanwhile, here are some related readings for you.

What Teachers Could Learn from Animal Trainers

8 Lessons Horses (Yes, Horses) Can Teach You About Business

Horses Teach Us Life Lessons (Learning Emotional Intelligence with horses)

Equine Assisted Learning: Skills Development through Experiential Learning

Encouraging Dis-Comfort

At the beginning of this year, in the middle of a math lesson, one of my most advanced students, Caren,  suddenly said, “I don’t get it.”

Another student immediately spoke up to offer help. “Let me show you how to do it!”

I stopped the second student, saying, “That’s ok. Let her struggle.”

Caren’s face went bright red. She wasn’t used to struggling at anything. But I let her sit in that discomfort. I let her struggle. Eventually she said, “Oh, I see what I did wrong.” She was able to explain how she made her mistake on the problem.

After school, in the parking lot, I talked with her father and told him what I had done. He laughed and said he agreed with my strategy.

On March 14 I showed my class a SlideShow of pie charts during math for Pi Day. They were all jokes. My class had a wonderful time laughing at all the visual puns.

Toward the end I put up the following slide.

Pie Charts Are Hard

One of my students, Edgar, said, “I don’t get it.”

Kids tried to explain, but I just said, “Look at the title.”

Edgar said, “There’s no red!”

I said, “Look at the title.”

He said, “There’s no red anywhere!

I repeated, “Look at the title.”

Finally, he said, “The title, what? The title … I don’t get it … I don’t … oh. Now I understand.”

Gifted Parents

I don’t watch much sports, but I’m an Olympics junkie. I love the Olympic motto: Higher—Faster—Stronger. That’s how I want to teach, helping my kids as they always reach for the next goal.

This year one detail from an interview with Nathan Chen, the American gold medal figure skater, struck me. He said that his family didn’t have money for skating lessons when he was a kid. So his mom took him to occasional lessons. While he worked with the coach, she took copious notes, and—between lessons—she was the one who coached him, using what she had learned at the last lesson.

In this column I talk a lot about gifted students, or, as Washington State says, Highly Capable (HC) students.

It’s time to talk about gifted parents.

We had neighbors with a son Rafe who dug up their back yard to install a koi pond and a Japanese tea garden. Then he decided it wasn’t right, dug it all up again, and redid the whole thing. Multiple times. In the end they had a lovely back yard, but only after years of mess and chaos.

Rafe had a gift for gardening.

I thought his parents had a gift too. They were willing to put up with years of mess and chaos in order to support their son.

By the way, by the time he was in high school, Rafe started his own landscaping company that helped pay his way through college.

Student Equity Summit

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right away, their answers were insightful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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