An Ode to Teachers in Special Education

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 7: Who was or is your most inspirational colleague, and why?

I have long been in awe of Special Education teachers for many reasons. They navigate a foreign land where the cities' names consist of strange acronyms and the mountains are made of stacks of paperwork. The amount of education they completed to earn a license is impressive. And it seems that they, more than any other teacher, are most affected by legislative changes and are always working to stay compliant with the latest updates in education law.

When I think of an inspirational colleague, it turns out that the one who comes to mind is a retired Special Education teacher. That she was able to navigate all of the challenges mentioned above gracefully and patiently made her a super hero, but that's not what made her inspirational to me. It was Pat's work with her students that make her unique in my eyes.

By nature, lessons in Special Education are individualized, but Pat was an expert at figuring out what made her students excited to learn. She was able to weave the concepts students needed to understand into real-life activities and topics that motivated her students to learn more deeply. She also had a talent for relating to her students in a way that made them feel respected, supported, and independent - all at the same time. Because of her relationships with her students, she inspired them to work harder and accomplish more in her class than they did in any other area of their lives. Her steady, down-to-earth personality and dry sense of humor provided a sense of stability and trust that many of her students craved. Even after Pat's students had graduated, they would stay in contact with her, sharing updates about their jobs or schools. When Pat retired a few years ago, the eloquence and love with which she spoke of her students during her farewell speech had me in tears.

Pat is my inspiration because of the respect and admiration she engendered in her students. She pushed them to work hard, and they loved her for it.

My many thanks to all of the Special Education teachers out there who provide amazing learning opportunities for truly special students. You all inspire me!

Photo from Nir Tober, licensed through Creative Commons by Flickr.

Here's To My Mentor, My PLN.

Image from ellenc808 at Flickr.

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 6: Explain: What does a good mentor "do"?

Let's take a brief tour through my thirteen years of teaching thus far.

Year 0, Preservice Teaching: I had the opportunity to student teach in a large inner-city high school. I was assigned three different preps to teach. The classroom teacher to whom I was assigned was very friendly, but also excited to enjoy some time out of the classroom. I observed her teach for about a week, and then I was pretty much on my own.  The way I remember it, however, is that this didn't really bother me at the time. I think I just assumed it was how student-teaching was meant to be. Any sign of mentorship? Nope.

Years 1-2, My First Teaching Position: During my first two years of teaching I was the only life science teacher at a small, private high school, so I taught four preps. There were two other science teachers, but we didn't communicate very often. One was a great teacher and very genuine man, but close to retirement and not interested in taking a wide-eyed new educator under his wing. The other was busy with her young children and had little time for working with me. In fact, I ended up subbing for her while she was on maternity leave. Neither of these individuals shunned me or treated me poorly. The conditions and supports just weren't there for a positive mentoring experience. But again, I didn't know what I was missing.

Years 3-4, The First Years In My Current School: I accepted a position as the life science teacher at a new district, this time in a small, rural public high school. The other high school science teacher was an old-school "sit in your seat and listen" teacher on the verge of retirement. Again, he was friendly enough - he and his wife actually took my young family out to dinner one night - but not interested in being a mentor. In fact, I remember feeling confused when he missed our first district-scheduled mentorship meeting because he was "at the lake."  So I plowed ahead on my own again, with four preps, one of which was a Soil Science class I hadn't a clue how to teach and another being an Anatomy class I was required to teach over TV!

Years 5-11, The "Nose To The Grindstone" Years: When I think back on these years, I see flickers of connections with potential mentors, but nothing that was sustainable. I would attend a great workshop or continuing education class, bring home good ideas for my classes, but was never able to sustain any relationships that were initiated at the training. I was constantly searching online for appropriate lessons for my students and suggestions to improve their learning, but the results were sporadic. I pretty much did all of my reflection in my own head, my only sounding board being....me.  A new science teacher was hired when the previous teacher retired, and I suddenly found myself in the role of a mentor for someone else. I was certainly growing from the conversations we had, but still didn't feel as though I had a mentor of my own.

Year 12: The Year I Found A PLN: In the summer of 2014, I was taking an online class and was encouraged to become more active on Twitter. I also learned how to use Google+ during that same time. It was a revelation. Slowly but surely, I began to make connections with other teachers, join in global conversations, and get a peak into classrooms across the nation. My PLN became my mentors. Why do I feel a PLN is the first mentor I've ever truly had? Because these are the people that inspire and motivate me. They make me a more reflective teacher and ensure that my excitement for learning is being constantly rejuvenated. Most importantly, they challenge me. I see what others are accomplishing and the risks they are taking, and that motivates me to do the same. Never before has anyone truly pushed me as a teacher. Up until last year, I was pretty much in my own little bubble and any "pushing" was solely the result of self-motivation.

I have grown more in my most recent year of teaching than I did in the previous 11 because my "mentor" inspired me to think more deeply about learning and collaboration. This experience has also made me a more effective mentor to others. Let's continue to leverage technology and global connections so that there is no longer any excuse for a first-year teacher, or any teacher for that matter, to feel alone in his/her struggles.

*If you are a new teacher and looking to develop a PLN, or an experienced teacher willing to reach out to others, consider participating in New Teacher Chat (#ntchat) weekly on Twitter. More information can be found HERE.

Whose Classroom Is It? Yours, or Theirs?

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 5: Post a picture of your classroom, and describe what you see - and what you don't see that you'd like to.

I almost did it. I almost wrote a post that took the reader on a tour of my entire classroom, showing off the little personal touches and clever uses of space that are scattered throughout the room. I even had all 10 photos loaded and ready to go. But something inside me said, STOP!

I didn't get far into writing this post before I realized that the physical spaces aren't what defines my "classroom." Without the students, it's just a room like any other. Their presence is what makes the space come alive, not some inspiring poster in the corner or the latest organizational contraption.

Over the summer, I made some changes to my classroom with this theme in mind. I tried to imagine a space that was a reflection of the students, instead of a reflection of me. So I removed my teacher desk from the classroom to open up more space in the room. I pulled the majority of the posters and pictures off of the walls. The intent is to avoid students being over-powered with a sense of Mrs. Meyer when they enter the room. Instead, they'll slowly create their own space while personal, individual learning artifacts fill the walls throughout the year.

So the photo of my classroom I chose to share in this post is a photo of the students. This picture says so much about the type of learning I strive for my students to participate in daily. Others may look at the photo and see a jumbled mess of 20 students going in 20 different directions. I look at the photo and see students owning their space.

This is what the classroom looks like in the middle of an investigation. The four students sitting at the table in the forefront are one team. At the time of the photo, they were still working on designing their procedure, alternating between debating the process and recording information in notebooks. The two girls in the back indicated by blue arrows were also discussing their procedure. One of the girls was absent from class yesterday, so her teammate was filling her in on what she missed and listening to the new ideas she proposed. The back counter is where all the supplies for the lab were set up. The student boxed in yellow is gathering some supplies for her group. The girl circled in green is from the same group as the "yellow box" girl, but she is temporarily helping a different team with a question they had regarding supplies. It is important to me that students experience ease and independence in my classroom.  All the teams completed the investigation, but the steps they took, the space they used, and the resources they harnessed to accomplish that goal varied.

Finally, take a look at the huge smile on the face of the girl with the red arrow. She's pipetting bromothymol blue, so I'm not sure exactly why she was smiling. Maybe somebody on her team made a joke, or maybe she knew I was taking a photo (like the boy in the Twins shirt!), but regardless of the reason, this is my measure of whether or not the classroom is working for the students. A classroom should be a place in which smiling and learning go hand in hand. This is the type of experience that isn't created by motivational posters or reading nooks. It happens naturally when the learning environment is a direct result of the relationships that are developing within it.

Do all of my classes look like this every day? Certainly not. Sometimes the students are going in 20 different directions because they're distracting each other or confused. Sometimes they're all sitting in their chairs, with no glimmer of a smile on their faces. Sometimes they're pipetting water at each other instead of into a test tube! But I love the possibility in this photo. Given the appropriate resources and some trust on the part of their teacher, students can own their learning space and thereby own their learning.

Teaching Science, Or Teaching As A Science?

Photo from Lokesh Dhakar at Flickr.

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 4: What do you love most about teaching?

I am not one of those educators who knew for a fact when I was a child that I wanted to be a teacher. My mother tells me that I did have a brief moment when I was about 8 years old when I proclaimed that teaching was my chosen profession, but I don't remember it. What I do remember is loving science from the very beginning.

It wasn't a hard decision for me to pursue a Biology degree when I went to college. What I was going to do with that degree was more uncertain. I considered the medical field and research, applied to to graduate school. But it was a faculty member in the Biology department at college who first planted the seed in me that I might enjoy teaching. Beginning with my Sophomore year of college, I was a teaching assistant for introductory Biology courses as part of my work-study contract. The lab director for the department was my supervisor, and one day she casually suggested to me that I might consider teaching. That option was nowhere on my radar at that point, but after I graduated with a Biology degree, it reappeared from the buried recesses of my memory.

So, to make an already-long story a little shorter, here I am, 15 years later, teaching high school science in rural Minnesota. So what is it about teaching that convinced a young woman, focused on science her entire life, to turn her focus to education? Well, it turns out that teaching is a science all it's own.

Inquiry: I'm constantly evaluating the student learning in my classrooms and asking questions about "why." Why do my students always seem to struggle with error analysis? Why are photosynthesis and respiration such challenging topics for students? Why do some student teams stay focused while others are easily distracted? There is no end to the questions that circulate in my mind on a daily basis. Once I've developed some interesting questions, I instinctively move into the next phase, which is...

Experimentation: This might make other people feel uneasy, but I love that the classroom is my own little laboratory. Every day, I manipulate variables and watch the results unfold. If I want to know if peer evaluation will help my students be more reflective learners, I try it out and observe the outcome. Curious about the impact of flipped learning? Attempt a couple lessons and see what happens. How many other professions allow for this level of experimentation and autonomy?

Problem-Solving: In the midst of experimentation, I often observe some unexpected results. Let's say students aren't responding to that peer evaluation experiment mentioned above.  It's time to dig deeper, chat with students, evaluate some work, conference with other teachers. At this point, I pool my resources to evaluate the problem more closely. I try to tease apart the variables to understand what is truly influencing the results I've observed.

What do I love most about teaching? I love the science of teaching. I love its ever-changing, ever-challenging, ever-questioning nature. It pushes me to be a better scientist, and thereby a better educator, one day at a time.

I Hear You

Photo from Molly Sabourin at Flickr.

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 3:  Discuss one observation area that you would like to improve on for your teacher evaluation.

For the first time this year, Domain 5 of the Charlotte Danielson Frameworks will be a part of our district teacher observations. This domain focuses on student engagement, and it's filled with aspects of teaching and learning that get me all excited just reading through them:

• Students seek other resources.
• Students ask relevant questions.
• Students find the work relevant.
• Students are developing solutions.
• Students are persistent in learning.
• Students are motivated to learn.

I could write a separate blog post on any one of these elements, but because of an experience I had in a class today, I'd like to spend some time on the final one, "students are motivated to learn."

We're currently in the midst of Week 3 of the 2014-2015 school year. It seems that we typically have about two weeks of "back to school excitement" before students start to slide into these engrained, habitual behavior modes that have developed over the years. I start seeing blank stares looking back at me and have more issues with student effort. I completely understand this; many of my students have spent 10 or more years being passive learners, doing what they were told to do in order to move from one grade to the next. This mode is a defense mechanism for them.

It's been increasingly evident in some of my classes over the last few days that this "despair" has begun to set in for a few students. My strategy was to initiate a conversation with them today, trying to learn more about who they are, what interests them, and finding out why they're feeling or acting the way they are in class. It often takes a bit of wheedling to get the information out of them, but I typically get answers like:

• I don't like science.
• I don't like to read and write.
• I don't like school. At all.
• I'm only motivated by treats, or [insert a different extrinsic reward here].
• I'm only interested in sleep and food.

And herein lies the true challenge of teaching.

How do I encourage students with fixed mindsets to become active participants in the learning community that we're creating? 

I hear these students. I want to acknowledge their individual perspectives. But at the same time, there are particular principles I can't compromise. I want students to ask questions, be puzzled, and persevere through challenge. I want students to share of themselves; their ideas, their talents, their wonders. I am not a fan of extrinsic rewards for learning.

Motivating students continues to be an enormous challenge. I don't have all the answers, but I have to believe that at the core of this enigma is relationships. So, today I continued cultivating these relationship with one conversation. Tomorrow, we'll continue the conversation. I'm not sure yet what I'll say, but the important thing as that the conversation will continue. The students will know that they matter to me, and that's got to count for something.

Dreaming of Nearpod

    Photo from Nicole Pierce on Flickr.


This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.


DAY 2: Write about one piece of technology that you would like to try this year, and why. You might also write about what you're hoping to see out of this edtech integration.

Nearpod has been rattling around in the back of my mind for over a year now. When I first heard about the tool, I wasn't quite sure what it was. Is it just for a class to view presentations on their devices simultaneously? First of all, I don't really give synchronous lectures in my classes. Secondly, not all of my students had devices last year.

Fast forward to this past June when I was in Atlanta for ISTE2014. I thought to myself, "Hmmm, those Nearpod people are down that aisle (in the vendor's area). Maybe I should go figure out what this is really all about." It was then that I learned Nearpod isn't simply a platform for pushing out presentations. Instead, it's probably the most flexible tool for formative assessment that's out there right now. You can embed just about any type of file in a Nearpod presentation and then create all sorts of different interactives that go with it to assess what your students are learning from whatever was in the file. Some of these options are quizzes, polls, open-answer questions, and drawings by students.

So it hit me today that tomorrow's Biology class will be the perfect type of lesson to try with Nearpod. The students are just starting their Ecology lesson, which I'm framing around climate change this year. To get them thinking about what they already know about climate change, they will:

1) Study a graph of ocean and land temperature change over the last 200 years. Embedded photo in Nearpod.

2) As a team, decide on the claim that the graph is making and evidence for that claim. Good old-fashioned white-boarding.

3) Record what they already know about climate change. Web link to Answer Garden in Nearpod.

4) Read an article from USA Today, published in August, regarding the worsening impacts of climate change. Embedded pdf in Nearpod.

5) Record two main ideas from the article. Free response tool in Nearpod.

6) Circle in red the images that release carbon and circle in green the images that store carbon. Photo plus drawing tool in Nearpod.

I already made the big commitment and spent my $12 monthly fee to upgrade to a Nearpod "gold" account so that I could use some of the fancy features, so I'm hoping my students love it so much tomorrow that the cost is justified. If all goes well, I'm envisioning using the Nearpod homework feature for some of my flipped lessons as well.

I have big dreams for you Nearpod. Don't let me down!

My Anti-SMART Goals for the Year

"Tattered Goals" by Anjan Chatterjee, via Flickr.

This post is part of the 30-Day Blog Challenge from TeachThought. To learn more about the challenge go to www.teachthought.com/teaching/reflective-teaching-30-day-blogging-challenge-teachers/.

DAY 1: Write your goals for the school year. Be as specific or abstract as you'd like to be!

Goals. I know they're important. I want my students to have them. I know they can be transformative and motivating. In fact, teachers in my district are required to write SMART goals every year.

In reality, the goals that truly motivate me on a day to day basis are amorphous and difficult to pin down. These are my Anti-SMART goals.

S = Specific. I want to be a more responsive teacher. This means being perceptive about what each individual student understands, doesn't understand, and how s/he learns best. This means finding out what makes them curious and want to learn more. If it sounds complicated, that's because it is. It's a constant process, different for every student, different every day. There's no way I can pinpoint a specific strategy that's going to be successful in helping me attain this goal on a regular basis. It's flexibility, not specificity, that's essential to being a responsive teacher.

M = Measurable.  I want my students to be more excited and curious about learning in general, and science in particular, when this school year ends. I want them to understand that learning is process that isn't always a straight, paved highway; rather it's a twisting, gravel road with lots of bumps and detours. Am I going to be able to measure whether or not all students have reached this point at the end of the school year? Nope, but that doesn't make it an any less-worthy goal.

A = Attainable.  Last year, the Biology students completed two major Project-Based Learning assignments. This year, I'm planning for them to complete eight unit projects, each one starting with their questions. The only requirements will be that the project falls within the topic of the unit (Genetics, for example) and results in a public product of some sort. From past experience, I know that students will initially feel overwhelmed by the openness of the assignments.  They'll beg me to just "tell us what to do!" repeatedly. This would certainly make my goal of eight unit projects more attainable, but it would also limit the creativity and independence of the students. Sometimes attainability of the end goal needs to be sacrificed to revel in the process of shooting for said goal.

R = Realistic.  For the first time this year, I'm incorporating Standards-Based Grading into the classes I teach. And digital portfolios. And team-based learning. And NGSS standards. And collaborative video projects. It's not realistic to expect that all of these initiatives will be as successful as I imagine this year, but I don't care. I always jump into the things I believe in with two feet. It's part of who I am, and I refuse to be cowed by "reality."

T = Timely.  Classes started in my district two weeks ago. A student from last year who I don't have in class this year told me last week that he misses having me as a teacher. Now, this was a student who struggled in class last year on a regular basis and was often quite perturbed on the days when I requested he redo his work just one more time. His learning didn't follow the timeline of the traditional school year. It wasn't until after the class was completed that he started to understand some of the learning practices I emphasize in the classroom. And what about all those students who return to visit years after graduating to tell us how much our presence in their learning journey impacted them? Is this a goal that can be measured on a particular deadline? Of course not.  Just as each student learns differently, they all learn at a different rate that may not always be considered "timely."

While SMART goals have a role in education, I will still always carry my Anti-SMART goals with me. I won't allow five restricting adjectives to limit the dreams and ambitions of myself and my students.

Want some alternative to SMART goals for you and/or your students? Check out this blog post by Edna Sackson at "What Ed Said."