I believe that our interests, what intrigues and challenges us, is that which feeds, restores and replenishes our souls. That which fills up our bucket. A wise colleague shared his thoughts about each person's bucket once during a particularly stressful time. I realized my bucket was getting pretty empty and that I needed to do whatever it was I did to refill that bucket. Unless my personal bucket was full, I had little to give to others. In a giving profession such as teaching, a full bucket is essential.
This bucket is a simple analogy, perhaps, for self-actualization, a place of psychological health where we can accept and express ourselves and respond to others openly, creatively, and humanely. This bucket never stays full; the more we learn, experience, appreciate, the more we seek. What saps my bucket are things that at first feel overwhelming. One-size-fits all educational solutions, punitive accountability measures, instruction that reduces reading to skill and drill, and mean people are a few things that take from my bucket. While I cannot solve everything, I can do something. But each act pulls from the resources in my bucket.
Among my interests--cooking (and eating!) wonderful food, my family, children, being on a sailboat on a crystal summer day--I realize that a major support of my interests for me is what I choose to read. Through books I can go anywhere, learn many things, laugh (and cry), understand others and myself. I express, define, and pursue my personal interests through my reading.
This is why my passion is to help students become readers--through reading they can become whatever they wish to become in life. Author Pat Mora calls this "bookjoy", the experience of getting lost in the pages of a book. It is freedom.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Leadership Thrust Upon Us?
"Some are born leaders; some have leadership thrust upon them." The quote(or facsimile) kept going through my head this week as I completed a review of the reading courses for the Colorado Department of Education for Metro. When I began at Metro, ALL I wanted to do was teach, thank you. I shunned any hint of leadership. Been there, done that. Except for the Sunshine Committe, which I considered the least of many evils. Really, how hard is to collect "social" dues, buy paper plates, provide coffee and a snack schedule for meetings, and recognize birthdays? I enjoyed meeting everyone and being, essentially, the smiling Cruise Director. Easy stuff for a former personal chef. Everyone was glad to have someone take it over, and it fulfilled my "committee" obligations. So, while I was totally dedicated to my teaching, I resisted any real type of "leadership".
But then, during a Reauthorization Review, we find out the Elementary Education Department must meet the review requirements formally required only of new programs under the "Reading Directorate". Which courses are essential to every elementary education program? Reading!! Who is the only one who knows the two reading courses? Jackie!!
So here I am, working to revise syllabi and curriculum (curriculi?) that are ten years old. A lot has happened in ten years, and both syllabi are somewhat dusty. The week before Christmas was manic as we all worked together to make the proposal. I found myself newly appreciating my colleagues in Early Childhood and Special Education as we worked to coordinate all of our programs.
Then, in January, the review came back and we had revisions to make. And the due date always seems just this side of yesterday. So today everything went in. I find myself exhausted in leadership. But the quote?
The closest Google Quote comes from Shakespeare: "Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." I may be thinking of what Dumbledore said to Harry Potter: "Some are born to leadership, and some have leadership thrust upon them." Anyway, it appears to me that when we pursue the course of doing the best we know how to do, leadership often is thrust upon us, and in reality we accept it without thought because it is the only possible course of action.
It seems to me that being an educator implies leadership on some scale,from classroom to school to district to college classroom. And while we may not relish that obligation, it is part of the package. We stand up for what is meaningful in the face of the red tape that always exists. A superintendent once said to those of us in a meeting for principals, "Follow all Federal and state laws, district policies, and do good things for kids."
My "kids" are just a little bigger now.
But then, during a Reauthorization Review, we find out the Elementary Education Department must meet the review requirements formally required only of new programs under the "Reading Directorate". Which courses are essential to every elementary education program? Reading!! Who is the only one who knows the two reading courses? Jackie!!
So here I am, working to revise syllabi and curriculum (curriculi?) that are ten years old. A lot has happened in ten years, and both syllabi are somewhat dusty. The week before Christmas was manic as we all worked together to make the proposal. I found myself newly appreciating my colleagues in Early Childhood and Special Education as we worked to coordinate all of our programs.
Then, in January, the review came back and we had revisions to make. And the due date always seems just this side of yesterday. So today everything went in. I find myself exhausted in leadership. But the quote?
The closest Google Quote comes from Shakespeare: "Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." I may be thinking of what Dumbledore said to Harry Potter: "Some are born to leadership, and some have leadership thrust upon them." Anyway, it appears to me that when we pursue the course of doing the best we know how to do, leadership often is thrust upon us, and in reality we accept it without thought because it is the only possible course of action.
It seems to me that being an educator implies leadership on some scale,from classroom to school to district to college classroom. And while we may not relish that obligation, it is part of the package. We stand up for what is meaningful in the face of the red tape that always exists. A superintendent once said to those of us in a meeting for principals, "Follow all Federal and state laws, district policies, and do good things for kids."
My "kids" are just a little bigger now.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
75,000 Readers Encourage Me
My first year at Metro, I suffered from a serious "short-timer attitude". I kept thinking that while this was a really good gig, I would finish out the year and be gone.
I tried very hard to implement the curriculum exactly as it was presented to me, but mid-semester, I realized that while the content was fine, I could not follow the thinking behind someone else's schedule. I began to make changes. In December the professor retired, and I became THE only professor teaching that class. By my second semester, I knew the content and totally changed the schedule. I was asked to attend a conference on Learning and the Brain. My interest in reading research grew as I read sample textbooks and all the professional resources I had inherited. I continued to reconcile what I knew about how children learn to read with the accountability requirements my students were expereincing in their field placements.
The second semester, another reading professor announced her retirement in June. I was encouraged to apply for my same position again. I figured if they found a reading professor that met their criteria, I'd just become an adjunct. Not to happen. Full-time again in the fall, I now was the lead teacher in both of the reading classes. Noone in had ever taught both, and I took the opportunity to coordinate the curriculums. After all, students only took 6 hours of reading. I wanted it to count. I coordinated meeetings between all of the adjuncts and we did some cross-analysis and adjustments. As you can see, I was slowly getting sucked into the challenges here.
My second year, three things happened. I seriously bonded with my students. I was advising, which brought me to a very personal level, and I appreciated the challenges many of these urban students were facing just to be pursuing a college degree. I began having students from the first class taking the second class with me. I found myself wanting more than ever to be the most effective teacher possible.
My personal children's book library was growing again (I had given away all but the most special books)and I shared my favorites--new and old--with my students. How could they not know Don and Audrey Woods? Cris Van Alsburg? Mem Fox? I began to read and bring new authors, like Rick Riordan with The Lightening Thief. I began to value what I could do to change the attitudes about teaching reading that I was seeing students exhibit when they came into my class. Many were dreading, seriously dreading, roung-robin reading and workbook pages.
Then one day, I had a student in class comment on how I was really passionate about teaching reading. Well, I replied, what we do in this class is critical. I turned to the board and began to write figures. There are generally 25 students in an elementary classroom. A 30-year career can be figured as the norm for teachers. So over that 30 years, a teacher could plan to have around 750 students. There were 25students in this college classroom. So, what we did in this college classroom had the potential to impact (I had to quit talking here while I did the math) 18,750 students. I asked students to picture all of them standing outside the window, and to promise them to do everything possible to support them in learning to read and loving to read. Yes, I was passionate about books and reading, always had been and always will be.
Later that day, I thought about the four classes I was teaching. At that rate, what I did had the potential to impact 75,000 readers every semester. I was hooked big time, determined again to make a difference for as many years as I could. Soon after that, I made a visit to UNC, and when I reapplied for my position again, I was offered full-time with a reduced class load (three classes) for five years IF I were to pursue a doctorate. Sounded good to me. So much for short-timer!
I tried very hard to implement the curriculum exactly as it was presented to me, but mid-semester, I realized that while the content was fine, I could not follow the thinking behind someone else's schedule. I began to make changes. In December the professor retired, and I became THE only professor teaching that class. By my second semester, I knew the content and totally changed the schedule. I was asked to attend a conference on Learning and the Brain. My interest in reading research grew as I read sample textbooks and all the professional resources I had inherited. I continued to reconcile what I knew about how children learn to read with the accountability requirements my students were expereincing in their field placements.
The second semester, another reading professor announced her retirement in June. I was encouraged to apply for my same position again. I figured if they found a reading professor that met their criteria, I'd just become an adjunct. Not to happen. Full-time again in the fall, I now was the lead teacher in both of the reading classes. Noone in had ever taught both, and I took the opportunity to coordinate the curriculums. After all, students only took 6 hours of reading. I wanted it to count. I coordinated meeetings between all of the adjuncts and we did some cross-analysis and adjustments. As you can see, I was slowly getting sucked into the challenges here.
My second year, three things happened. I seriously bonded with my students. I was advising, which brought me to a very personal level, and I appreciated the challenges many of these urban students were facing just to be pursuing a college degree. I began having students from the first class taking the second class with me. I found myself wanting more than ever to be the most effective teacher possible.
My personal children's book library was growing again (I had given away all but the most special books)and I shared my favorites--new and old--with my students. How could they not know Don and Audrey Woods? Cris Van Alsburg? Mem Fox? I began to read and bring new authors, like Rick Riordan with The Lightening Thief. I began to value what I could do to change the attitudes about teaching reading that I was seeing students exhibit when they came into my class. Many were dreading, seriously dreading, roung-robin reading and workbook pages.
Then one day, I had a student in class comment on how I was really passionate about teaching reading. Well, I replied, what we do in this class is critical. I turned to the board and began to write figures. There are generally 25 students in an elementary classroom. A 30-year career can be figured as the norm for teachers. So over that 30 years, a teacher could plan to have around 750 students. There were 25students in this college classroom. So, what we did in this college classroom had the potential to impact (I had to quit talking here while I did the math) 18,750 students. I asked students to picture all of them standing outside the window, and to promise them to do everything possible to support them in learning to read and loving to read. Yes, I was passionate about books and reading, always had been and always will be.
Later that day, I thought about the four classes I was teaching. At that rate, what I did had the potential to impact 75,000 readers every semester. I was hooked big time, determined again to make a difference for as many years as I could. Soon after that, I made a visit to UNC, and when I reapplied for my position again, I was offered full-time with a reduced class load (three classes) for five years IF I were to pursue a doctorate. Sounded good to me. So much for short-timer!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Bring me that horizon.
Never, before a few years ago, did I ever consider getting a doctoral degree. I was accepted once into a program as I finished my administrative licensure, but I was tired of going to school, eager to be an elementary school principal, and really could not see any reason to continue.
As I look back on 35 years in education, I realize that I have always thrived on the challenges that are inherent in change. I loved learning about and teaching a different age group or content, but after a few years, my thoughts were always looking to what other expereinces were out there. That mind-set drew me to mentors who showed me the doors that could open.
So how did I get here--in a doctoral program at this stage of my career? When I "retired" from the public schools system, people asked me what I was going to do. I remember thinking, as Captain Jack Sparrow did at the end of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie, "Bring me that horizon." I didn't know what was out there, but I was ready for it.
I remember regret that my knowledge, broad experience, perspectives, and passion for teaching and learning were coming to an end. At a retirement reception a gentleman in his seventies said to me, "Jackie, right now these 30 years seem like your entire life. But you will come to realize that this is just one stage of your life. You invent the next stages." I had always loved cooking and thought I might go in that direction with a personal chef business. My retired friends encouraged me to take time, at least a year, to find out where my true passions would lead me. This freedom is the finest aspect of retirement!
It took me almost three years to invent the next stages. It started the first year--what would I do? A friend encouraged me to become a consultant with CDE. As an advocate for the Reading First, I visited three schools throughout the state to monitor their implementation of the Reading First grant. I was familiar with NCLB, but not the grant money behind it. As I visited classrooms, I was astounded at the parameters around teaching reading which were is such contrast to literature-based, whole language approaches I was used to in a non-Reading First district. What had happened? This experience rekindled my curiosity for effective teaching, so much so, that when CDE restructured the grant money and RIF'd all of us, I began thinking of teaching a college course.
Metro had a posting for adjunct reading instructors, but I walked out of the interview with a full-time temorary position that would eventually lead me to UNC.
As I look back on 35 years in education, I realize that I have always thrived on the challenges that are inherent in change. I loved learning about and teaching a different age group or content, but after a few years, my thoughts were always looking to what other expereinces were out there. That mind-set drew me to mentors who showed me the doors that could open.
So how did I get here--in a doctoral program at this stage of my career? When I "retired" from the public schools system, people asked me what I was going to do. I remember thinking, as Captain Jack Sparrow did at the end of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie, "Bring me that horizon." I didn't know what was out there, but I was ready for it.
I remember regret that my knowledge, broad experience, perspectives, and passion for teaching and learning were coming to an end. At a retirement reception a gentleman in his seventies said to me, "Jackie, right now these 30 years seem like your entire life. But you will come to realize that this is just one stage of your life. You invent the next stages." I had always loved cooking and thought I might go in that direction with a personal chef business. My retired friends encouraged me to take time, at least a year, to find out where my true passions would lead me. This freedom is the finest aspect of retirement!
It took me almost three years to invent the next stages. It started the first year--what would I do? A friend encouraged me to become a consultant with CDE. As an advocate for the Reading First, I visited three schools throughout the state to monitor their implementation of the Reading First grant. I was familiar with NCLB, but not the grant money behind it. As I visited classrooms, I was astounded at the parameters around teaching reading which were is such contrast to literature-based, whole language approaches I was used to in a non-Reading First district. What had happened? This experience rekindled my curiosity for effective teaching, so much so, that when CDE restructured the grant money and RIF'd all of us, I began thinking of teaching a college course.
Metro had a posting for adjunct reading instructors, but I walked out of the interview with a full-time temorary position that would eventually lead me to UNC.
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