Here Comes The Wave!

Last summer I was at the beach with my family. I was in the water and had my back turned to the vast ocean. I was looking at the shore to see if I'd drifted too far from my cousins. Suddenly I heard my sister yell, "Lea!!!! Turn around!!" I turned to face the ocean and about 50 feet in front of me, a massive wave was forming. I'd faced these waves a few times and knew I had three choices: 1)dive underneath it and wait till it passed; 2) swim with it, use it's power to propel me along side it; or 3)run towards the shore and try to beat it. I knew option 2 was out - I swim about as well as a cat. I knew option 3 was even worse. Have you ever tried to avoid a wave by running from it? Yeah - we can't avoid nature.

I chose option 1. I dove under. I swirled around several times, caught up in the pull of the wave and lost my sense of direction underwater. As soon as the water calmed above me, I came to the surface and gasped for air. Disoriented and shaken, I had to look around QUICKLY to get my bearings. Looking for my family was like finding a needle in a haystack. I slowed my brain, spit out the salty water and took a few breaths. As I calmed myself, I was able to scan the shore. There it was. The rainbow umbrella, the cooler, and my cousin's blonde hair. I slowly swam to the shore, walked to the blanket and collapsed. I was greeted with my cousin's smile and a White Claw. A sense of relief came over me as I watched the waves safely from the shore. The White Claw, delicious.

As public school teachers, we have been watching this wave coming since March. We could see it forming. We could speculate about it. We could anticipate it's arrival. We had no IDEA how big it would become before reaching us.

Sometimes I have enough courage and patience to go to the county website where plans for the fall are posted. Let me tell ya, that is a huge freakin' ocean. There are hundreds of comments about the said "plans", from teachers and parents. I notice with each thread that we are watching the wave of the upcoming school year, and most everyone has to make a choice about how to get through it like I did on that hot summer day.

Some people (like myself) feel there is no stopping this wave. It will be what it will be. Instead of trying to control the wave, we dive. We wait till it passes over us, and come up gasping for air, trying desperately to get our bearings. We stay away from the social media shit storm and the plan until something has been decided. We chose not to be a part of that decision. Some people feel safer swimming with the wave. They are strong swimmers. They have strong feelings. They want to swim with the wave so that when it crashes to the shore, they already have their bearings. They want to feel prepared for the next wave when it hits. They are not afraid to watch as the wave forms and heads toward them. They watch social media vigilantly. This is not hard for them because they are good swimmers. Comments don't bother them and they want to see and know the plan. They also know that they can't control the wave. The others, they turn and run in fear while the wave chases them down. Once it hits, they angrily stand up and start blaming the wave as though it had a choice. They blame their people in the water for not warning them. They are hurt, and angrily looking for someone so they don't hurt so much. They are all over social media. They run to it every day, and every day they become so angry and overwhelmed that they have no choice but to lash out at others comments and responses.

We all want to get to shore and back to our beach chair (and our White Claw) safely. We all want the school year to begin in a way that feels safe and familiar. The problem is, that we are all ignoring each other while we are doing our own thing. We are facing the wave as if we are alone.

If my sister was distracted or busy and wasn't looking out for me that day at the beach, I'd have been taken out by that wave. If my cousin hadn't been watching for me from the shore, I'd have been lost. It took all three of us to get me back to safety. Someone watching and warning, me making a choice I knew was best for me, and someone waving and waiting. It has me thinking - as public school teachers, we can make the choice that's best for us. We can help each other prepare for the wave. Along the shore we can make ourselves seen and help those who are lost find their way back to the blanket.

To survive, it's important to get through this wave by making the choice that works best for us independently. It is not the time to publicly condemn others for how they are getting to the shore. It is NOT the time for the shame and blame game. We will drown if that continues to happen.

All of us need to get to the shore of August in our own unique way, but we ALL need to get to shore. The shore line is our school base, the pebbles, those with whom we work, and the tiny grains of sand, our students. Like the sand along the beach after a wave recedes, what we come back to in August will have changed the shoreline completely. It's still the shore, but it will look and feel nothing like it did before the wave of COVID-19.

Nothing...will....look....or feel... the same. Nothing. Standards will change. Class size and room configurations will be different. Some will be working in the schools, some will be working from home. Administration will have had to figure out and change almost everything about the school day; lunch, buses, recess, specials and instructional time. Then there's our students. I can't even imagine. Equity was lost, no matter how hard we tried. Children lost loved ones to the virus. Some had no adults to care for them, some had adults hovering over them. Nothing will be the same. Many that didn't will have ADHD diagnosis and emotional health issues.

I think it would behoove us right now to support each other as these decisions are made. Questions are vital, but not all of the answers are available right now, nor are they black and white. I believe that those making decisions are trying with all their might to do what is best for the students, families and teachers in their community. Like the teachers caught in the wave, they are crashing to the shore with us. The things they are trying to anticipate, the questions they are trying to ask each other about how to proceed, are enormous. The public school system is an intrical part of the societal web. I cannot IMAGINE having to make those decisions. They will ultimately make and break how families work and live. Despite the stories we make up between their words, I believe they do have us in mind. I believe they see the enormity of the shore line and how the wave will change the landscape.

We all have to get to shore to greet our students and families in the fall. It's ok to have all the feelings we feel. It's ok to let the anger, fear and sadness stand. However, to get caught up in those feelings and not come up for air before August could lead us to drowning. I believe the worst way we can show up for our colleagues, families and students is fearful and isolated in our classrooms. It seems the best we can do is show up with resilience, flexibility, empathy and persistence - be the example for those who are looking for them. If we show fear, there will be fear. If we show curiosity and openess, that is what we will recieve.

Let's support each other, let's ask questions. Instead of being flippint and rude when we talk to each other about the students and families we serve, and the administrators who are working to get us through this, let's take the time to find out what is beneath the words. Let's listen deeply to the questions we hear and the need we notice behind it. The answer to "What in the hell is school going to look like in the fall???"might not be, "2 days in the classroom and 2 days virtually." The answer needed might be, "I hear your worry about how we will meet our students needs, and I am walking with you in that." We are supposed to teach empathy and kindness to our students. Let's be the example of that on social media and in private conversations involving friends and staff members we socialize with. Let's show the world that we can be what we teach. Let's remember that empathy is finite. The less we give ourselves, the less we have to give others. Stop pointing fingers. Stop complaining on public forums about what a shitty job you think the school board is doing to solve this problem. The best we can do to show up for each other and our community is to respect the way we choose to get to shore, watching out and caring for each other while we do that.

My beautiful, wise, sensitive, vulnerable and talented son (I of course know this because I am his mother :-) ) has just put some new music on all music share platforms. When it was in it's infancy, before it had a name or a verse, he sent me the chorus of a song he was writing. The song is called Drifter. When I first heard the song, it gave me hope and broke my heart all at the same moment. Every time I listen to this song, I recognize that the only way we can get through this time together is to love and support all in the education community and those we serve. At the same time "Drifter" forces me to acknowledge my aloneness and fear. Tim's lyrics and soulful melody are not just a statement to me. They are a communal prayer for the education community:

I know that it seems hard right now, but I promise that we'll make it through.

I know that it seems like a lot right now, but I know that you'll make it through.

I know that it seems hard right now, but I believe strongly in you.

I know that it seems that it's never gonna end, but I promise that we'll make it through.

I know that it seems hard right now, but I'll try as long as you do.

I know we've all got our differences, but I promise that we'll make it through.

I know that it seems like a lot right now, but I promise that you'll make it through.

I know that it seems hard right now, but I believe so strongly in you.

I believe that our aloneness can and should propel us into togetherness. My aloneness after coming up from the wave forced me to look to the shore for reassurance. That reassurance came from knowing the people I loved were looking out for me. They were waving me back. I knew when I got to them, I would not face judgement or criticism. I Knew I'd see a smile and a wave, showing me what direction to go. I knew I could trust my loved ones waiting for me. I felt connected and complete. Let's do that;

for admin, school board members, fellow teachers and communities. Let's wave each other to shore with love and acceptance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmSv1dI0qKk Click on the link to hear the song "Drifter" by Tim Devine, the Back Up Kid

New TV Reality Show: Survivor, Season 502 - Over-Functioners Win It All

During the COVID pandemic, we teachers have had to learn how to teach in an entirely different way. It was a mind - numbing, soul - sucking time for us. We call it, "Distance Learning". Two words that should never, ever, ever be used to describe how children are being taught. However, we persevered and did our best to make sure our lovies got online and learned the best they could. As the school year was wrapping up I received an email from our county.

We were to nominate the teacher we felt went "above and beyond" their duties during on-line learning. I was immediately offended, pissed off, and sad all at the same time. What the hell does that even mean, "above and beyond". For fuck's sake. Weren't we all going above and beyond by learning and implementing an entirely new way of teaching in just three weeks? How in God's name was one expected to go above and beyond relearning their career? The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I deleted the "above and beyond" email, and then hit delete again. When Microsoft prompted me by asking "Are you sure you want to permanently delete this from your inbox?" I clicked enter with great satisfaction

To me, the idea of the "above and beyond" means that there are teachers who are better and seemingly working harder than every other teacher. Are the teachers who are going above and beyond the ones who are making day trips to their children's neighborhoods, and face timing or Google Classrooming with their kids all day every day? Are they the teachers who are posting videos with daily stories and new curriculum? Are they the teachers who are chasing down students to make sure they have internet access and computers? "Above and Beyond" is a lot to ask of anyone during a pandemic.

The status of "above and beyond" in the teacher world is something else. During this pandemic, "above and beyond' meant being visible on social media and YouTube, hitting the pavement in the community to visit students neighborhoods, and being noted as "outstanding" by administration during virtual staff meetings. Don't get me wrong, all of the things listed above are wonderful because they allow teachers to connect with kids, and help parents know their children are loved and will continue to be educated despite Covid-19. It helps the children know that their teachers are there, still loving and teaching them. There is no doubt that these teachers ARE dedicated to their students and their career. By nature, these people over-function, or function well, during difficult times. We are not all built that way. Those whose fight or flight mode defaults to the "fight" setting generally win the "above and beyond" survival game. That email asked us to determine who was the best of us, and who wasn't by who is over-functioning rather than under-functioning on our island. The over-functioners were the teachers who boldly faced the challenges by standing tall with their swords. They were the teachers who were visible outside of the online classroom. So what about those of us who duck and cover?

For the "above and beyond" award, the "duck and cover" folks, were politely dismissed. They were not worth mentioning because their best, was not good enough. They were sent from the island of teacher greatness. I know both types of teachers, the over- functioners and the under-functioners. I love both types of teachers, but a determination of who goes "above and beyond", could not have come at a more inappropriate time.

As you may have guessed, I am the duck and cover teacher. When the shit hit the fan in March, I slept, watched endless, mind-numbing hours of trashy TV, and scrolled Pintrest like it was going out of style. During the Covid crisis, I didn't want to talk on the phone, kept Zoom meetings infrequent, and limited them to family and close friends. Sometimes, I even picked up a book and read, but not very often because that would require thought. Some days, getting up was a chore in and of itself.

That being said, when the county decided on it's plan for distance learning and told its teachers to "get on it", I found focus and did it. When, after the first day of on-line learning, the county said, "Wait - let's try this again" and we had to shift everything we had put in place, I found my resilience and did it. When, after four days of the second new plan and the county said, "hold up... that didn't work either", I once again found the path to do what needed to be done for my students and families. I didn't post my work or moan about the changes on social media. I didn't announce how hard I was working to my families or teammates. I just did it. It was all I had the energy for.

How could we possibly vote for who was going "over and beyond" knowing that all teachers at the time were doing their best, regardless of whether or not their work was visible to all? I believe it's because during normal times, the education community has decided the best teacher,the one who goes above and beyond, is the one who is the loudest martyr, who groans the most about their hard work, spends the most hours away from their families, and the most time personally reinventing the wheel for each standard. They also shout the most about their successes in the classroom. I know this, because for the first ten years of my career I was the person who believed that doing my best for my students meant giving up all else. Sometimes I told people how late I stayed or how sick I felt. How I didn't eat or spent late nights awake worrying about my students. Now I recognize that martyrdom is not good for me or any other teacher. Therefore, it is not good for our families or our students. The martyr system has become part of the definition of what "above and beyond" means in teaching, but to what end? Does the "above and beyond" teacher not sleep and eat poorly? Do they spend less time with those they love so that they can focus on their students? Does the "above and beyond" teacher give up self-care so that they can care for the well being of others? Is the "above and beyond" teacher one who stands rather than retreats when their is an earth-shattering change in life? Maybe, maybe not. I believe the "above and beyond" teachers connect deeply with their students and consistently reflect on their craft to change and grow.

One of the best teachers I've ever known, works in the classroom right next to me. However, if she worked in another pod in our school, I'd never know how wonderful her teaching really is. She doesn't announce her classroom success on social media, nor does she have the desire to be a staff developer, or stand in front of everyone to talk about herself and her teaching. This teacher, has made her well-being her greatest priority, which translates not just to herself, but to her family, her teammates and ultimately, her students. Mama can't take care of others if she doesn't take care of herself first. For her, this means coming in an hour before and leaving 15 minutes after, her students do. It means that during planning she works diligently and talks with her IA about her students. She plans for the upcoming week. She gets it done with excellence and best practice, and without more self-sacrifice than it's actually worth. When she is home, she is with her two young boys and her husband, not with her 22 students. Except for sometimes, when she is particularly troubled with one, or thinking about a new lesson for her kids. That just comes with the territory.

I know from working next to her, that she is calm, quiet and caring with each one of her students. She reads funny stories and connects with them She teaches difficult concepts in a way that is fun and engaging for her Kindergartners. She pays attention to their play and safety on the playground and in the hallways. She invites them to be their best selves each day. She is reflective and flexible when it comes to her teaching practice. She is knowledgeable about the craft of teaching, and shares that knowledge with her teammates. To me, she is the best because her students are happy and ready to learn.

They are engaged in their work. If they aren't, she does her best to figure out why, and get them on with their day. She knows their family backgrounds and promotes positive connections and interactions with parents. She also fiercely fights to get children who need it, through our local screening committee so they can have access to what they need to learn at school.

If I had to, I'd bet, this strong, kind ,and effective teacher was not nominated as "the teacher who goes above and beyond" during Covid -19 because she didn't spend hours at a time making sure she was visible to the community. We did not see her on social media or YouTube. She was quietly working with her teammates to make sure she was doing her best for her students and a team player. Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn't have deleted that email, maybe I should have nominated her.

Recognition is important. Recognition in front of colleagues is also important. But maybe,

as a profession, we should redefine HOW we decide who goes "above and beyond". Maybe we should understand that at any given time, we are all doing our best and that may look different for each person. Martyrdom as teachers should NOT be the ruler by which we measure our effectiveness on-line, in the community, or in the classroom.

As teachers, we are models, and instead of modeling selflessness, maybe we should model trusting each other and ourselves with doing what is best for us, so we can be our best for others. To be clear, this is not modeling selfishness. Our job is to help create great learners AND people who will do better for themselves and our world than we did. To that end, we must model for students what it means to trust yourself, and to recognize that "above and beyond" is not the same for every teacher. We should stop honoring teachers in the same way we did BEFORE we knew better. Martyrdom is not a "must" for great teaching. Before teacher numbers begin falling like snow in a winter storm, we should reevaluate our evaluation and reward system for our profession. We should recognize self-care because self-care translates into doing better for our students. I'm all for doing whatever helps you stay sane in real-life and a pandemic, no judgement there. I do judge the system for believing that "above and beyond" in a crisis or the classroom means having an over-functioning nervous system, or believing the more we give up of ourselves, the more above and beyond we can go as teachers?

We diversify how we teach and assess our students because we know all children do not create and respond in the same way. Neither do teachers. How can we re-define what "above and beyond" means so that the over-functioners and martyrs aren't always representatives of "the best"? Why can't we work together to redefine the standards of "above and beyond" before we vote on it?

And for God's sake, where did I put the remote and my pint of Ben and Jerry's?

Ears and Eyes are Important, Mouths Not So Much

Yesterday I wrote about the invaluable tool of knowing the who, what, where, when, why and how of the children and the daily mire of struggle in the classroom. These 5 knowings for each child and any event of distress in the classroom are critical. They are the base that makes room for the MOST important skill in human relations. Listening. There is no substitute and no quick fix that can take the place of listening when it comes to relationships with students, or anyone for that matter. I know this because I've studied it and I've used it daily in my classroom since way back when I did my student teaching in a 9th grade English class (which is no cake walk let me tell you). I also know this because as far back in my life as I can remember I did not feel heard, because being heard is not something you can enforce on those who you are trying to communicate with. It is a gift that they must willingly give. It is the one gift you can give in the classroom that can change a child's life, their sense of self worth, and their ability to have empathy for themselves and others.

That being said, when their is a disruption in the classroom, nine times out of ten I can guarentee it happens because someone is not feeling heard. At one point in my class this year, actually, at several points in my class this year I had to break up an all out physical fight over a lego between 2 five year olds. They were definitely WTF is going on here moments. They were caused because neither one felt the other was listening. And if I had to make up a story about their lives outside of school, it would be that they did not feel heard. There's also the male pecking order thing, but that's a whole different discussion!

Picture this (any child discussed in these posts is not one child, but a collage of several): You are in the middle of telling three kids to go to breakfast, looking over your morning plans, and telling someone who has strewn their things all over the floor to clean up (it's the rare day when we are ready, calm and collected when the kids come in - let's be honest here) and in comes one of your littles. In comes are actually not the right words. Let's say the bus patrol ushers a child who will NOT come in the classroom to just outside your door. This child has red cheeks and tears pouring down their little faces. You know the who, what and where. You're pretty sure you are 90 percent accurate about the how and the why. But guess what. It doesn't matter. Well, it matters as a teacher, but that child couldn't care less about what you think you know or don't know. All that child cares about is being heard.

I'm going to side step a little here to say that TIME OUT is the most misunderstood concept in teaching and parenting. Time out in it's truest form has nothing to do with punishment or thinking about the consequences of their actions. Ask any kid to tell you why they have been in a "punishment" form of time out and they will give you one of two answers. The first: "I don't know," the second, "Because I was bad". "I was bad" most often translates to "I am bad" in a child's mind. "I don't know" translates to "I don't know".

The true purpose of a time out, is to remove a child so that they can shut down the fight or flight mode and get to the point where they can verbalize in a rational way what is happening. It is of the UTMOST important that there is a calming area in each classroom, and that each child knows how to use it in a way that will benefit them when they are in a disregulated state. Why do want them to regulate? So they can talk about what is happening in a way that makes sense. So they can have time to think and feel their feelings in order to talk.

So you've got all of these things in place. Guess what. If you don't listen to this child once they are calm, you've lost the entire battle. I mean the entire battle. If this child comes out of this moment feeling like his feelings and voice don't matter, you will lose credibility as an adult they can trust.

I understand in a classroom where there is one teacher it can be increadibly difficult to find the time to listen - but that's for you to figure out.

So my little friend who did not want to come into the classroom is still standing there crying. Hmmm.You've invited them into the calm corner. Still not moving. Time is ticking and everyone is waiting. You use the best phrase ever: "What do you need right now?" But the child is too disregulated to even know. If they are not in danger of spriting out the front doors of the school, you make eye-contact and tell them, "I'm just so sorry you are having a tough time right now. I need to get class started. When you are ready, I'd love you to join us." Then just, leave them, and let them sit in their sad, Sitting in the sad, or the anger, or the frustration can be a gift. It is not our job to tell them "it will be ok", "you need to move on with your day", "get over it", or "you are overreacting."

You've had morning meeting, you've done a mini-lesson, the kids have begun their work, and you see the empty spot at the table and think "Oh SHIT! She's still out there!" Let's be honest, we all do it. You walk to the child knowing that you can be like the Maji and bring three gifts, questions, eye-contact, and listening. There's that word again. Listening.

Often times we need to ask questions first in order to help a child verbalize their needs. We keep the questions consistent knowing that the answers might be different for each child or disruption. The questions can start like this: "I'm noticing you are still so sad. I'm so sorry. Can you tell me, are you sad, mad, scared, worried?" The child responds, "I am sad and worried." Next question, "Where in your body do you feel your sad? Your tummy, head, neck, chest, throat?" They almost always know. My sad muffin who won't come in the classroom says, "My tummy and my throat." At that moment, I pray that this is not a stomach virus and the kid won't puke on me, and I press on. "Hmmmm, let's take a few deep breaths, Hold up your finger like a birthday candle and blow it out." Little lovie holds up their tiny pink finger. I coach him, "Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, in through your nose and out through your mouth," until he slow begins to take on this process independently. Next question, "How big does your sad feel?" You may want to have a reference visual so the child can point to it. I respond "Wow. That's a lot of sad. Can you tell me about what happened?" Eye contact, ears open, mouth CLOSED. Ears open. Ears open. Ears open. Heart open.

Next question, "Can you tell me more about that?" This is the most beautiful question of all because if you are listening, you can use this to flesh out EVERY thing so this child can move forward in their day.

I say, "That really is such a sad feeling." It is not my time to relay my story about my boyfriend who left for Germany before I had a chance to hold him and say good-bye. It is my time to acknowledge that little one is deeply hurting.

Next question, "Can you tell me more about that?" This is the most beautiful question of all because if you are listening, you can use this to flesh out EVERY little thing so this child can move forward in their day. That is the question that tell the child "You matter, I am listening, I want to hear you, I want to understand."

I say, "Can you tell me more about that?" He says, "I just love my daddy so much." I repeat, "you love your daddy so much." Lovie nods his head. Did you notice? I repeated what the child said. You can only repeat what some one says if you are.... you've got it. Listening.

I ask again, "Can you tell me any more about that?" He pouts and says, "Every morning I get to say goodbye to my daddy and this morning I didn't." Oh boy, that's bad. We all know that feeling of loss, that's bad. As human beings, we are connected through the same feelings. Shame is removed when we realize that we are not the only one who feels that way in that moment. Trust is gained when we realize that someone who understands that feeling, is listening.

"I am just so sorry. What do you need? Do you need a hug? Some quiet time? Would you like to put your things away and get started? Sometimes when we take our sad with us into our day, that sad starts to feel a little better. It's ok to feel sad right now, but it's also important to get our day going." This is not an authoritarian statement. It is not a negotiation point. It is not letting a child get away with not doing their work, or forcing them to "get a move on". It is saying, "I know this sucks for you, and I want to help you find your resilience and still do your job." Let's face it, we ALL know having to get on with things in the overwhelming sadness of loss.

My little guy says, "I want to put my things away and sit in the calm corner." I say, "When you get to the quiet corner, I'm going to set a timer for five minutes, then I would like you to join us." Wait... set a timer? I thought the child was leading this? The timer, is a structure that a child will understand if it is consistently used in that space. My guy leans in for a hug, I hug him back and tell him "I'm so glad you told me how you felt. I love you buddy, " and we get on with our day.

You may be thinking, "For God's sake, he didn't get to say good bye to his dad. Big deal, he will see him tonight when he gets home," or maybe, "For f___'s sake,(we teachers really do curse in our heads all day long) I don't have time for this." I have two things to say to that. 1) He is five. His father is a crucial, loving adult in his life. If you know this child you will know something about his relationship with his father. It's a big deal. 2) you may not have time, but you better make time. When you are creating your plan as a teacher, create easy quick things you can put in place for your class so that you can be available when you are needed. Save calling admin or the guidance counselor as a last resort. Either you help the child in need process that overwhelming feeling, or they will not be ready to learn anything that day.

We call this listening. It is also identifying, naming and processing emotions. It all starts though, with listening. Listening. Listening is an active verb. It is defined as "noticing sound, being ready to hear a sound". In a classroom the definition might be, "being ready to hear words so that you can empathize, love, honor, and guide this child in processing deeply felt emotions." Listening means hearing someone into being both heard and seen. If a tree falls in the woods and you don't hear it, does the tree exist? It doesn, but it sure might not feel like it.