Nerd Girl

"I'm not really THAT into sci-fi stuff." 

That is a phrase I have said so often and then followed with a story of a sci-fi movie or book that I absolutely loved.  I'm starting to think that the only person I am still fooling is me.

Here's the story:   

Let me share a little bit about my mom.  She was absolutely amazing.  She was kind of a hippie and she always encouraged me to express myself.  

Cowboy chaps to go to the grocery store? Great! Lace Madonna gloves in Kindergarten? You Go Girl!  Glitter make-up in 5th grade? Go for it!  1996, belly button piercing (she HAS to say NO, right?)? Sure, maybe I'll get one too! 

*facepalm*

I remember my friends calling the house and asking to talk to my mom.  She was just cool.  She was crafty and funny and silly and artistic.  She would take us to the movies and we actually WANTED her to hang out.  

But as a teenager, it was really hard to be rebellious.  My 15th birthday present was a tattoo.  (My dad thought it was fake well into the 2000's)

There was one, and only one, way.  She was a sci-fi junkie.  All of it.  Isaac Asimov, Star Trek, Star Wars, Dr. Who, Dark Shadows, Larry Niven, Philip Jose Farmer, C.S. Lewis, The Hobbit, Madeline L'Engle, War of the Worlds, those ape movies... she loved them all.  

So I wasn't gonna.  

That's right. I didn't watch Star Wars, I cringed at late night movies with Elvira introducing them, and I only read The Hobbit because she paid me.    

It was my big plan of rebellion. Finally, I could feel the pain of all the other youth of America.  I couldn't be a true artist without some sort of parent sob story and this was mine.  

One problem... this stuff was good.  Have you ever even seen Dr. Who or read The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe?  IT'S AMAZING.  So, like most artistic people with overly allowing parents, I became a sci-fi junkie.  Sure, I could keep it quiet most of the time.  Barely anyone found out.  My World of Warcraft friends weren't social enough to tell anyone on me.  Nobody had to know.  

Then, one day, I woke up and my mom wasn't here any more.  Just like that, she was gone.  I was so grateful for the amazing woman who shaped me, who let me be me, who loved science fiction and the daughter who didn't.  So, in her honor, the time has come: 

I'm saying it loud and proud.  I'm a total nerd and I love it.  I'm enjoying discovering all the things I proudly disavowed and it's making me such a cool person.  

I mean, just don't tell anyone.   

Hot Mess

My name is Maria and there is a whole lot of mess in my classroom closet, drawers, and in my brain. 

I am great at helping other people come up with organizational systems.  Turns out, I stink at implementing them.  I can either organize it so well that it takes me three years to set it all up, can only be deciphered by a handbook, and is color coded.  Or, everything goes into one drawer and I have no idea how to find anything ever again.  

Some days, I wish I was better at this.  I wish I could just put my hands on that one piece of paper.  I feel like I am going to pull my hair out because I know I made three copies of something and it isn't in the "Tuesday" folder where I swear I put it.  

Other days, however, I'm glad that my brain doesn't function like this.  Too much structure, for me, feels stifling.  

Classrooms can be effective in chaos.  Some of the best days in my room have been when I can't see or remember the color of the carpet.  I know that I need to find a balance but it doesn't make sense to me to spend more time worrying about where the colored pencils should be rather than creating exciting opportunities to use  them.  

One of the challenges for me in teaching is the number of questions and requests thrown at me during the day.  Early on, I implement strategies such as "Ask three before me" to limit the number of small people standing within 3 inches of me needing something.  A lot of times, however, the line of kids is excited to show me something, want to read me something, or want to share a story.  And these are the moments when I really get to know my kids.  

I'm grateful during these times to have a brain that allows me to be off task.  I'm not saying that structured, well organized, efficient people can't be successful teachers.  I just know that it wouldn't work for me.  Sometimes, allowing the kids to work in weird spots, look through my "craft box" in the closet, or asking them to decide how they want to present a topic, is exactly what we need to build community, get energized, and effectively teach and share content information.  

As I prepare to go back to school and I peruse the beautiful classrooms on Pinterest and in my own school, I know that organization is important.  I want my students to feel proud of our shared space and I want it to be efficient and clutter free.  Unfortunately, it doesn't come naturally to me.  I can come up with creative seating, rhyming birthday cards, and catchy bulletin boards.  However, I have no idea how/where to store my own materials.  I just know that they need a place.  

So, I went to the 1$ store and I bought places.  I got a label maker and I made labels.  I researched, I got materials, and tomorrow I will engage in my own PBL design project.  

I'm almost happy that I am having this experience.  It's hard for me to understand why my students don't know how to use a sheet of notebook paper, where to put their homework, or construct an argument with fact and fluency.  But really, these are all different types of organization skills.  I know I can help them with these!  I also know that if they don't have "it" I can give them strategies to get there.   

I'm going to start with a plan and I'm going to do my best to stick with it.  However, if I have to choose between stopping kids to clean up or continuing to create, my new strategy will be a sign on the door that says:


And I'm totally OK with that.  

Headed to Australia

Have you ever had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?

Of course you have.  Everyone has.  And if you are an educator, you probably know that I am referencing a lovely book by Judith Viorst titled Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  In this book, Alexander decides that he is going to Australia since his day is so awful.  At my school, we are encouraged to have an "Australia" or area that a student can go to calm down, take a moment, or just sit quietly for a few minutes.  I haven't had one because I felt like my room was cramped enough.  Tomorrow, I'm going pillow shopping.   

I just couldn't get it together today.  It really started yesterday.  I did something to upset a friend and it was completely unintentional.  The weird thing is, she was so gracious.  I apologized, I told her why I had done what I had done and she told me not to worry.  In fact, I went to her to see what I could do to "fix it," and she said that it was all O.K.  Later, she even texted me to tell me, again, that it was all a misunderstanding and that I shouldn't feel bad. 

I still did. 

Then, another friend had a car battery situation.  It all worked out but I still worried for her.  I know that feeling of having something that functions stop functioning.  I also know what it's like to have an unplanned expenditure come up.  I didn't want that for her.  And, I realized that I was in no position to help her.  It wasn't my fault AT ALL.  And, she didn't need my help.  Why in the world would I feel bad?  

I still did.  

Understandably, I didn't feel great when I woke up this morning.  I couldn't believe my alarm was going off, it felt like I had just laid down!  My very old dog isn't doing well and she wouldn't eat.  I can't leave food out for her because my very fat wiener dog is on a diet.  I finally got out the door and down the road when the sun came out and I had left my sunglasses at home.  I NEVER LEAVE MY SUNGLASSES.  They are like my security blanket and I've had the LASIK and they make me look like a 1950's movie star and they hold my hair back just perfectly.  

I had to be at school at 8:00 a.m.  It was fine. I was on time.  

But how do you think my day went?

It didn't matter that after that morning, nothing went that poorly.  It didn't matter that everyone was kind to me.  It didn't matter that we had a successful session of professional development and team planning.  It didn't matter that I finally organized that "junk tub" in my classroom (you have one too, right?).  It just didn't matter. 

When I got home, my answer to "How was your day?" was "It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."  The rotten that I woke up with just wouldn't go away.  It just stunk up all the good that followed.  

I'm a grown-up.  I know how to handle my feelings and emotions.  I know that there will be times when I will make poor choices, bad decisions, or act unwisely.  However, through experience, I know that tomorrow will probably be better.  It's all going to be fine. Eventually.  I am hoping that as I get even older (perhaps, wiser) that I will be able to see that even more quickly and not dwell in it at all.  But what about when you're 9 or 10?  You may not realize that it's going to get better.  You may think that the whole world is against you.  And you may not know that it's going to be all right.  

Sometimes I think all I have time to teach is content.  But if someone in my room is having one of those days, are they really listening to me anyway?  I would say probably not.  

So, I guess I get it.  I need an "Australia."  I'm not saying it will be any better because: 

But maybe some pillows and a safe space will help.  Maybe a hug.  I'm going to go try it myself right now.  

  

Let's Agree to Disagree

Do people know how to have a conversation anymore?

One of the first conversations I will have with my students is how to have a conversation.  By the time my students leave my classroom, it is not uncommon to hear them speaking to one another in a manner that shows greater skill than some adults I have spoken with.  By mid-year, I am beaming with pride when I hear one of my students say "I respectfully disagree with what you are saying."  It doesn't have quite the panache as "Yo' Mama" jokes but it does reflect a lot of hard work and modeling.  

In this age of internet conversation, I often wonder if people are losing their sense of courtesy.  Obviously it is easier to be mean when you don't have to see the "whites of their eyes," but I want to take it a step further.  

If you are obviously passionate about something and a person is willing to publicly call you out, disagree, or challenge your belief, what is the goal of the conversation that is about to ensue should you reply?  

Now, as I tell my students, I think that in that type of conversation, the goal should be to inform.  If each party is knowledgeable, passionate, and willing, great learning can take place.  The key is that in order to have this conversation, you have to come prepared.  If you didn't put in the time, act like a mime.  Turn your voice off.  What's great about that is... you can still listen!  And, you have two ears so you are working hard! 

However...  what I see happening at this point, in my classroom and on the internet, is that it suddenly goes from a conversation to a verbal lashing and disagreement of epic proportions.  The goal is no longer to inform but to WIN>! And, really, that's not what it should be about.  

I wonder what the adults in their lives are modeling?  I grew up in a house where there wasn't yelling.  I am 100% sure that my parents disagreed on things.  My mom was a hippie and my dad was military.  They were basically Dharma & Greg but they looked like normal people.  I was raised to feel like my opinion mattered but taught to listen to what other people thought as well.  I'm not sure that many of my students have this.  

So, it falls on the teachers. Again.  You know what though, that's ok.  There are a lot of things that I will teach them that they won't remember.  This is something that I think can influence the rest of their life.  Instead of anger and emotions that run out of control, how great would it be if the kids that came through my room got up, shook hands, and said "Let's agree to disagree," and walked off.  We need more of that. At least, that's what I think.  

I got a 4 in skipping?

This is NOT what you think it might be. 

I'm going to tease you and make you think that I'm going to talk about assessment and grading. I'm not. One day I might but it's not here yet.  I am going to share a story that could go down that path. But it won't. 

1985 and I was in Kindergarten.  If you know me now and you think I am kind of a "knowitallbossypants," (it's o.k. I can't see you shaking your head yes) than boy, oh, boy, you should have seen me back then.  First, I was pretty blonde.  Like that corn field Southern girl blonde with ringlet-ish curls. Next, my eyes were about 1/4 of my face and my eyelashes were like tiny arms.  Oh, and last, my mother was amazing and a little bit insane and she would put me in tiny color coordinated things with matching accessories and shoes that squeaked.  

This is a younger picture but it's late and it was available. Just add awesome. 

I was basically the poster child for "Adorable."  And everyone told me how great I was. I was an early reader, an early talker, and my pretend food was out. of. this. world.  If there had been Kinder-superlatives, I would have been Dress-Up Prom Queen.  

So, fast forward to the exam day.  That's right. In the 80's in South Carolina you had to prove that you could do some things and do them well if you had any chance of advancing into the wild, wild world of 1st grade.  From what I can remember, there were some physical challenges.  You had to write letters (easy), you had to cut on a line (champ), you had to walk on a balance beam (please?), and you had to skip (FAIL). What?  How could I have messed up skipping?  I was an adorable, tiny, blonde human who skipped everywhere I went just for affect and to make my pony tail swing!  Oh, my skipping was fine but the established rule of the classroom  was that each child must walk on cement.  Movement any faster than walking had to be done on the sand. Including skipping.  I looked down. Cement.  

But I was excited! The teacher was sitting on the cement! I just wanted to win Kindergarten. 

It didn't matter. I broke the rule.  I failed skipping even though I could skip.  As you can tell, I'm still not over it.  Maybe in 30 more years. 

Today, a co-worker and friend seemed surprised that I was so "ridgid" when it came to "rule following."  It was interesting to hear her say that because I totally understood why she felt that way.  I tend to waiver on the far side of wacky.  I don't like things to line up, I barely match, and I think dance breaks should be mandatory for any age group.  The actual Senior Superlative I received in high school was "Most Original" and I have been called a hippie and a free thinker.  

But the bottom line is... I never want to fail at skipping again when I know how to skip.  I am perfectly happy making mistakes and failing because I tried my hardest and it just wasn't right.  But I'm not going down because I didn't follow the rules.  

In fact, the reason I am so confident and capable when it comes to taking risks and flexing my creativity is because I feel safe in knowing the established rules.  Once you know them, you know what's important and what can be pushed.  Once you agree to abide by them, you don't feel defined by them and you can put your free thinking towards an area that hasn't been defined.  I love being me but I'm still that kid.  I want to please and I'm kind of a "showoff."  

So, as I go back in the classroom, I want to make sure that the established rules are set in stone.  However, I also want my kids to be a part of the process and allow them the autonomy to contribute to the classroom procedures.  I want them to feel comfortable enough to fail, but I never want that failure to be for the wrong reason.  

If they break the rule, I will let them know and I won't let them off easy.  That 4 in skipping has followed me for the rest of my life but it was a lesson that stuck.  And sometimes, those kinds of lessons are hard to learn and not easy to teach.  But I will, because I want want what's best for my kids.  And, sometimes, that includes a serious chat and a humbling experience.  No matter how big their giant eyes are.       

Ewwwwwe.

Yup, those are the brains of sheep. 

Most of the staff at my school came together today for voluntary professional development.  It wasn't district mandated, it wasn't required, but it was sure to be exciting.  And boy, was it.  

The main focus for today was the brain body connection.  

Here, try this.  Go on, nobody is watching: 

• While sitting, legs dangling, lift your right foot a few inches from the floor 
• Rotate it in a clockwise direction, keep circling
• Now, use your right index finger to draw the # 6 in the air in front of your face
• Why did your leg start circling the other way?

Your brain and body are connected and not just by your neck! Did you notice the alternating color in the bullet points above?  Did it make them easier for you to read?  It should have! 

The brain is made up of various areas, each with specific tasks that connect with other parts of your brain and your entire body.  Once we started thinking about brains and then got the chance to investigate the actual sheep brain, I was hooked! 

A term that was used today was "amygdala highjacking." The amygdala is a tiny part of the human brain... about the size of an almond.  But what is really nuts (see what I did there?) is how this tiny part of our brain can respond to fear. Even perceived fear.  It doesn't even have to be real!  

If you aren't creating an environment for your students that allows them to feel safe, non-threatened, and important... 

They, quite literally, might not be able to learn at that time.  They might not be able to think rationally and "cool down."  They might not build trust for you because their brain is in a flight function.  

Now, listen.  I am no brain surgeon or rocket scientist.  However, I do know that there are ways to ensure that all of my students have the best possible learning environment that I can give them.  If I want them to use their brains, doesn't it make sense for me to learn how they work?  

If I want to change them for the better, I better know what I am trying to change.  Wouldn't ewe? 

Action!

Quick question, ever heard of 
Morgan Freeman?  

Of course you have. If you're like me you would like for him to read you a bedtime story every night and you've seen all of his movies, even the one about penguins. 

What about Scarlett Johansson?  If you're a male I'm guessing you know exactly who I am talking about (she's a total hottie- I don't blame you) and if you are a lady you probably have heard of her.  

I bring this up because they are the lead actors in a new movie called Lucy that I really want to go see and I have heard lots of people talk about and it is listed as one of the summer Blockbusters and I have seen previews for it and the premise looks amazing and those actors are great and...

my point?

I, honestly, have no idea who directed it.  I had to look it up.  

His name is Luc Besson.  Turns out he directed another little film called The Fifth Element. Without looking, I know that Milla Jovovich and Bruce Willis were in that. 

I started thinking about other movies I love.  Could I name the directors?

Dirty Dancing... nope ( Emile Ardolino)
Run Lola Run... nope (Tom Tykwer)
The Shawshank Redemption... nope (Frank Darabont)
Forrest Gump... nope (Robert Zemeckis, I knew his name but didn't make the connection)
The Silence of the Lambs... nope (Jonathan Demme)
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind... nope (Michel Gondry)

Now don't get me wrong.  There are lots of movies I love (or didn't love) that I know exactly who directed.  In my undergrad as a media arts major I studied some of the "greats." Names like Scorsese, Spielberg, Tarantino, Kubrick, and the late but great John Hughes stand out in my mind as stars of their industry.  However, that doesn't mean that the work of the previous directors isn't quality material.

I have read many articles and heard interviews with a lot of famous actors who give credit to the directors of films.  They are the ones with the creative vision, the big picture idea, and the connection to all the various other teams that are needed to create great cinema.  And what do I do?  I focus on the actors.  The ones on camera.  And, usually, not the one behind the lens capturing those moments to be edited together into the story I love.  

Much like a movie, a classroom and a school doesn't just happen.  It, indeed, "takes a village."  However, in my own classroom, am I trying to be the actor?  Getting noticed for the great lessons I plan, the cool projects I introduce, and the awesome bungee chair I own?  Or am I the director?  Allowing my students to blossom and take my project to a whole other level, giving them the opportunity to shine, and stepping back so they can take the credit.  

It isn't through being the biggest voice in the room but, perhaps, the most quiet where students are allowed the opportunity for ownership, collaboration, and the feeling of personal success.  Those fine educators who do this well, I think, are the ones that have become household names in this great profession.   

As I go back to school tomorrow to prepare for the return of the students in a couple of weeks, I am going to make sure that I keep this in mind.  It isn't about me at all.  This is just my job but it is their life.  I'm going to establish some ground rules (I am still the director, after all) but then I will let them be the stars.  They are the ones I want people to remember and talk about.  I'm just happy to be a part of the "Action!"