Resolutions and Mistakes - the start of a new school year

I just read a recent Mindsteps Blog post about teacher

resolutions and making mistakes. The skinny on that is that

teachers start out each new school year by resolving not to make

mistakes. And, even though we know that's humanly impossible -

we all make mistakes - as teachers we hope that we can get it

together by getting on a clean page at the start of each school

year so that we can get it right this time. Or, should I

say...perfect? But, alas! We know, especially those of us that

have been teaching for many years and therefore (should) know

better, that mistakes are bound to happen and the harder we run

from them the harder we'll be hit by the consequences when they

catch up with us. And, catch up they will! So, instead of

vowing not to make mistakes. To get it right (perfect) this

time. To make the best bulletin boards ever. To not speak a

harsh word. To have all lessons planned out way in advance or

just in advance. To always have morning meeting, class meeting,

closing circle, writing workshop, reading workshop, math workshop

and on and on, running smoothly the way it's supposed to look

like according to those wonderful professional books some of us

devour like other people eat chocolate cake, I, for one, plan to

make sure that I face my mistakes head on. Instead of running

away, I resolve to study what happened and do something to make

up for the mistakes or change something the next time I'm

confronted with a similar situation. Isn't that what we tell

students all the time? Robyn Jackson is right. Even though we

reassure our students that making mistakes is part of learning we

don't believe it for ourselves, and maybe not even for our

students. In fact, we go as far as saying that no learning

happens without mistakes. We go ahead and try to hide our

mistakes. To stuff them away in the dark closet of our teacher

guilt which gets more and more crowded all the time. We pretend

they didn't happen. We blame someone else for why our lesson

didn't work. We get angry at the class for not doing what we

planned which they might have done if we'd planned. We get angry

at ourselves but we don't recognize that anger as having anything

to do with our guilt and shame about making mistakes in the first

place. Instead, we go through another day at school hoping that

the next day we'll forget our mistakes and resolve not to make

another mistake for the rest of the year. Until...

So, when do we get off this roller coaster and realize,

acknowledge, embrace, even celebrate our mistakes? When do we

use these mistakes as learning opportunities? If we don't

practice this ourselves then how can we expect our students to

feel comfortable making mistakes and to learn from them? So, I

have a new resolution for this fall. (Will this be a mistake?

To make a resolution, I mean? If it is then I can examine it the

way I would any other mistake and learn so that I can do better

next time. Hmmm...Is that the purpose of examining our mistakes?

So that we can get it better next time? Might be a mistake.)

Anyway, here it goes: I resolve to recognize when I've made a

mistake (not hard to do since this is often experienced

viscerally, first). I will then attempt to make up for my

mistake or change my teaching so that it reflects what I've

learned as a result of my mistake. Rather than wallowing in my

mistake I resolve to wallow in the solution to the mistake - what

will I change, make up, adjust, take away, add, etc as a result?

Wish me luck. This is a new approach to the beginning of

the school year for me. I can feel my throat getting stuck as I

try to shift my mind set to this new way of thinking. All new

ways of thinking are painful; this won't be any different.

Partner Reading and Content, Too Routine (PRC2)

I'm a hoarder. There, I've said it. I try to deny that I'm a hoarder but it comes back to haunt me every time I move houses, or pack up my classroom at the end of the school year. I have old articles, lesson plans, handouts, folders brimming with teaching ideas, past issues of profesional journals. I hardly throw anything out though I've learned to be more selective over the years. My one rule of thumb, and I really try to stick to this, is that if I haven't used or referred to something in a year, then it's time to toss it into the recycle bin. One exception to this rule (you knew this was coming, didn't you?) is past issues of journals from professional organizations. However, with the ability to locate articles online through my professional memberships, even this exception is becoming less and less useful, which brings me to the topic of this blog post. I am currently reading a copy of The Reading Teacher from 2010. I've clipped a cou

The Reading Strategies Book - Chapter 12, Supporting Students’ Conversations – Speaking, Listening, and Deepening Comprehension

The strategy lessons highlighted in Chapter 12, Supporting Students’ Conversations – Speaking, Listening, and Deepening Comprehension, in The Reading Strategies Book by Jennifer Serravallo are critical to students’ engagement and comprehension, as well as their ability to write literary essays, or even book reviews, summaries and reflective pieces about books. If students aren’t able to talk about books in a way that is invigorating and joyful, they will be less likely to develop an interest in growing ideas for writing about books. In her introduction to this chapter, Jennifer Serravallo, reminds us that when conversations go well, children are inspired by what they read and are motivated to keep reading. However, when conversations fall flat, then kids get bored and tune out. How do we avoid this situation and teach kids to have focused conversations about books? The answer is easy: teach kids strategies to help them develop effective conversational skills . As in

Are we listening?

A child sits alone with a ripped worksheet packet on his desk. He appears to be singing or subvocalizing something though no one hears him. Or, perhaps they're ignoring him. The teacher stands at the front of the room teaching on the SmartBoard. The children follow along in their worksheets. Except the child sitting alone. He is in his own world. No one engages him and he engages no one. My heart aches for this child. He is physically and emotionally removed from the class. I ask him why his paper is ripped. (It's not an accidental rip.) He says he did that on a different day. When he had been frustrated about the work. He tells me that he sometimes sits by himself because the work is too hard for him. He later tells me that he sits by himself because the teacher thinks he talks too much during the lesson. He says he does that because he wants to find out about the "lives of the other children". My first impulse is to rescue him from the wrongheade

Ruth Ayres said…

I like to think of it as embracing imperfection. :) Happy start of school to you. I'm glad you're slicing.
Ruth

14 August 2012 at 09:02

Unknown said…

Hi Ruth,
I like that..."embracing imperfection". I'll have to remember that. Best wishes to you, too.
Elisa

14 August 2012 at 10:41

A Teacher's Ruminations

Search This Blog