The "Cost" of Reflection

          "Reflection is a fundamental tenet of learning, and therefore a fundamental part of teaching." (Terry Heick, "Reflecting on Reflection: A Habit of Mind" http://www.edutopia.org/blog/reflecting-on-reflection-habit-of-mind-terry-heick).

          Recently I've had an opportunity to share some of my most formative experiences as a teacher leader. As part of this process, I've taken the time to read back through several of my previous posts, as my blog is an invaluable component of my reflective practice, functioning both as a digital artifact of my professional growth and development, as well as an active and living document. As I noted in a previous post, I quite often actively "write my way into understanding". So while my blog is an opportunity for me to collaborate and share some of my formative experiences with others, perhaps more importantly, it also allows me to make sense of those same experiences. In this way, my blog functions as both a private and a public platform. 

          And so if reflection is such an essential or fundamental element of professional learning and growth, shouldn't we be providing educators with the time to reflect, in the same way that many schools now provide time for educators to collaborate? In the midst of increasingly demanding schedules, filled with seemingly endless and varied tasks, is it realistic to ask that educators now somehow also find the time to incorporate daily reflection into their busy days?

          As department leader of Learning Partners, a program that facilitates and supports peer-mentoring, collaboration and teacher inquiry, I've been privileged to experience first hand the numerous benefits of providing teachers with that most valuable of commodities, time. I am also mindful that the existence of programs such as Learning Partners relies heavily on the support of both school and district leaders. And let's be honest, financial support. The reality is that providing teachers with the time that is so essential for collaboration and reflection is a significant financial investment. Release time is expensive, and justifying that expense can be a challenge. I would argue that the difficulty lies in the intangible nature of "reflection". What does "reflection" look like? How long does it take? Where can it happen? And should there always be the expectation that there will be a concrete or tangible product as a result of that reflection? 

          Ultimately, when many district are challenged with budget cuts and stretched resources, is it realistic to ask our school leaders to invest in providing educators with the time to reflect? But in the same way, with teachers struggling to keep pace with innovative instructional and assessment practices to effectively support student learning and achievement, can we really "afford" not to?

         

Writing My Way Into Understanding

         Relationships. Connections. Trust. Resilience. Risk. 

          As I reflect back on my recent posts, these seem to be the reoccurring themes. It strikes me that in many ways I have been trying to write my way into understanding. I have been striving to make the intangible, tangible. And so what I have I discovered? That the most essential, impactful elements of a thriving school community are also those elements that in many instances are the most difficult to articulate. And so I thought I would share an experience that is "evidence" of what I believe is the most essential of these intangible elements. 

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          Several years ago "Discovery Time" was implemented at Sullivan Heights. The primary goal was to provide the essential time that is needed for teachers to establish and build trusting, impactful relationships with students. The original intent was that teachers would retain the same group of students over the course of several years. Once a week teachers would meet with students for 20 minutes. As part of this initiative, there was a conscious effort to keep this time free from the administrative tasks that are commonly associated with a more traditional homeroom model. Teachers were also given the autonomy to determine how they wanted to structure their time with their group of students. 

          I was fortunate enough to be paired with a group of grade 8 students. I love grade 8s. I was able to explore a wide range of topics with this amazingly energetic and diverse group of students. Some weeks consisted of more structured mini lessons, while other weeks we simply sat and talked, typically as we munched on a selection of Timbits. I watched these students grow and transform over the course of the school year, with all of the various growing pains that are commonly associated with the first year of high school. I kept track of their marks, their report card comments, took note of changing hair and fashion styles and relationship status'. We had our share of laughs, of conflicts and even the occasional tears. My once timid and uncertain "little" grade 8s evolved into more confident, even slightly cocky grade 9s. 

          The following year, however, as a result of various unforeseen circumstances, our school transitioned back into a more traditional homeroom model. While I retained the same group of students, I saw them less frequently, perhaps a total of five or six times throughout the school year, to hand out report cards and letters home. However, the relationships that we formed as a result of our weekly sessions during the previous year continued to thrive. My "Discovery kids" would often drop by to visit, and I continued to check in on "my kids" periodically throughout the year. I would stop and chat with them in the hallways, comment on a new hair cut or a growth spurt, and kept up the supply of Timbits. 

          This year, due to the demands of an increasingly challenging time table, I wasn't able to retain the same group of students. My homeroom is now my period 3 class. As such, it became more of a challenge to maintain the relationships with my now grade 10, "Discovery kids". In a school of over 1400 students the likelihood of running into any of my original students is significantly decreased. It made me a little sad. I was concerned that the foundational relationships that I had established with these students would weaken and dissipate. And yet...   

          ...Last week as I was walking through the office, I noticed one of "my kids" sitting in the conference room. At my school, that is the universal symbol for "I've gotten myself into a spot of trouble". And so as I often do in similar circumstances, I took the opportunity to wander in to have a little chat. It was pretty obvious that he was embarrassed that I had come across him in the midst of what was clearly a disciplinary issue. And it was also obvious to me that he was desperate to talk. After a minute or so of general chit chat, I asked him, "Are you feeling like you want to share with me why you're here?" His response was "Yes." and he proceeded to do so. In great detail. And not without an element of shame. He knew that what he had done was wrong, and he was worried that I would be disappointed in him. But to be honest, in that moment, I couldn't really care less what series of events had brought him to that point in time. Well, of course I cared, but what mattered more to me was that this boy, this young man, who I hadn't seen more than a handful of times in the past year and a half, still trusted me. He still saw me as someone who cared and who would listen. 

He was still "my kid". 

It's the Little Things...

          This past Friday I attended the "Connecting Leaders Symposium on Mental Health" which was jointly sponsored by the BC School Centred Mental Health Coalition (BCSCMHC) http://www.schoolmentalhealth.ca and the BC Principals and Vice-Principals Association (BCPVPA). The opening keynote by Dr. Connie Coniglio provided some eye opening statistics about the prevalence of mental health disorders amongst children and youth. As well, Bill Naughton, the Associate Deputy Representative for Children and Youth, outlined the enormously vulnerable status of children in care, and specifically some of our aboriginal youth. What became increasingly apparent as the day progressed, is the integral role that school communities play in supporting children and families who are coping with mental health issues.
          Regardless of the individual session or speaker, the essential message remained the same:

The more connected a child feels to their school, the better they do. 

In addition to larger scale provincial and district initiatives and programs, it became clear that in many cases it's the "little things" that can also make a significant difference in the life of a child. As essential as these larger initiatives are, it's the individual, personal relationships and connections that are formed with teachers, administrators, coaches, counsellors, janitorial and support staff that provide our most vulnerable students with the guidance, stability and support needed to overcome some of the obstacles that can be associated with mental illness. The culmination of numerous positive interactions with a caring adult can sometimes be far more impactful than a more formal program or workshop. As well, symposium presenters emphasized the need to foster resiliency and mental health in youth by taking an "asset based" approach that focuses on inner strengths rather than on apparent deficiencies.
          So while we have a responsibility to provide focussed, targeted programs to support children and youth who are struggling with mental health issues, educators can also provide invaluable support by consciously nurturing the numerous impactful relationships that are so essential in a vibrant and welcoming school community.

Exceeding Our Capacity

          I love the complexity of the English language, that a single word can have numerous connotations and nuances. "Capacity" is one such word. The dictionary provides several definitions for capacity, including:

1. The maximum amount that something can contain.
2. The amount that something can produce. 
3. The innate potential for growth, development, or accomplishment.  

          With an ever expanding student population, it can certainly be argued that Sullivan Heights Secondary has reached its capacity. As a 'bricks and mortar' institution, there is quite literally no more room. Ever classroom, every common area, every portable and prep area is filled to the brim. Filled to capacity. And beyond. So that's definition #1 taken care of. 

          But here's the remarkable part. As we have reached the limits of the physical capacity of our building, the capacity of our staff has expanded exponentially. In the past several years, Sullivan Heights has undergone significant growth and transition. In an earlier blog post "Transforming Challenge into Innovation", I reflected on the remarkable resiliency of our school community to adapt and thrive despite challenging circumstances.  http://teachergarr.blogspot.ca/2014/04/transforming-challenge-into-innovation.html

          This year, with a student population of over 1400, our teaching staff has grown significantly as well. Fortunately, with the continued support of our administration, our Learning Partners department, which facilitates peer-mentoring, collaboration and teacher inquiry has also expanded this year. I am pleased to say that our team now consists of eighteen members, from ten different departments. Some of our members are veteran educators, moving through their last few years before retirement, whereas others are new to the profession, embarking on their first year of teaching. Our team also reflects an impressive range of skills sets and interests. And it is within this context that the last two definitions of capacity are key. Because our additional students require additional support. And in order to meet the diverse and complex social, emotional and educational needs of our students, our teachers also need support. 

          And so, despite reaching, even exceeding, the physical capacity of our building, the capacity of our teaching staff to support one another is seemingly limitless. Even with an enormously challenging start to the school year, these eighteen individuals have volunteered to make themselves available to their colleagues as mentors, collaborators and facilitators of teacher inquiry. I feel remarkably privileged to work alongside educational professionals who are dedicated to supporting their fellow teachers as they rise to the challenge of meeting the diverse educational needs of our ever expanding student population. 

          Without a doubt, Sullivan Heights has reached, even exceeded, its physical capacity. We are a school community that is experiencing tremendous growth, with all of its associated challenges: burgeoning classrooms, crowded hallways and stretched resources. But with the continued, combined support of our teachers, administrators, support staff, students, parents and community partners, I would argue that in fact the "capacity" of our school may indeed be, limitless. 

          

Rethinking Education at TEDxWestVancouverED

How do we prepare our students for a future that is largely unimaginable? What essential qualities will they need in order to propel our society forward? What do educators require in order to be able to take up the challenge put forth by grade 7 student Gia Da Roza, to provide an "extraordinary education"? Well, when it comes to "Rethinking Education" what I discovered is that there are more questions than answers. But here's the good news. That's ok. Because what I also discovered is that as educators, we don't need to have all of the answers. And I must admit, that's a bit of a relief.

In the same way that Australian educator Kath Murdoch encourages us to create a classroom climate in which students are "comfortable with uncertainty", as educators, we must also learn to become comfortable with uncertainty. And that is a challenge. Because you see, many of us grew up in a traditionally structured educational system, where not knowing the answer was a bad thing. And questioning our teachers was viewed as disrespectful and disruptive. 

Gia challenges educators to provide an "extraordinary education" for our students. No pressure there!

But here's more good news. We're not in this thing alone. We have partners. Because "Rethinking Education" requires a shift that propels learning out from behind the desk, and into the world beyond the classroom. It requires input from community leaders and entrepreneurs, from doctors and authors, from athletes and scientists, from politicians and parents. And it requires input from our students. As Adora Svitak emphasized in her TED talk, "learning between between grown ups and kids should be reciprocal". Who better to help us chart a path towards a future that is largely unimaginable than the individuals who will be an integral part of that future?

"Rethinking Education" requires us to continue to move away from an educational system that valued facts over creativity, and obedience over innovation. We need to continue to value the voices of our students. We need to encourage questioning and wonder. And then, we need to listen. Because if we listen, our students might just tell us what they need. And they don't need us to have all of the answers. As TEDx speaker, Silken Laumann so insightfully stated, our students don't care about what we know, they care that we care.  And after listening to the powerful, inspiring and passionate speakers at TEDxWestVancouverED today, and having an opportunity to speak with many of the equally passionate educators who attended, without a doubt, we do.

       

          

Just Breathe

       

Prana. Life Force.

          Breathe. But don't just breathe, breathe deeply. This was my homework for today. My yoga teacher told us to tell someone to breathe today. Inwardly, I cringed. Moving through my day telling people to "breathe" most likely wouldn't be received with the warmest of receptions, and so I thought perhaps I should provide some context.
          In yoga, breathing is everything. In Sanskrit, it's called prana, the word for life force. But even though our breathe is a life sustaining force, we generally pay very little attention to it. Often, individuals who are under stress, feeling anxious, and/or experiencing trauma tend to take shallow, quick breathes. But breathing deeply releases tension, detoxifies our body, relieves pain, and supplies much needed oxygen to our cells. During cold and flu season, breathing deeply also helps to increase circulation of lymphatic fluid, which is an important component of our immune system.
          On the wall of my yoga studio is the word "Breathe". I even have several articles of clothing with this same message. Because even after practising yoga for several years, I still need this daily reminder. Just breathe.

I need a daily reminder- breathe.

          Tomorrow we are all going "back to school" in BC. Already on Friday I had a grade 12 student come to me, anxious that they are already "behind" before we have even started. Grade 8s are anxious to get themselves situated in a large school with many new faces. Teachers are anxious to set up classrooms, plan lessons and prepare for an influx of students. Administrators are anxious to ease the transition for staff and students back into school and re-establish routines. We are all excited, and eager to finally be able to catapult ourselves into a new school year. But we are all also just a bit anxious.
          So, at the risk of being met with some eye rolling and snorts of disbelief, take a moment this week to remind yourselves, to remind your students, to breathe. We will all get where we need to be, by the time we need to be there. All we can do is our best. Just breathe.
       

What if the Answer Was Always, "Yes"?

          What if every time a student, parent or staff member had a suggestion, the answer was always a resounding "yes"? That is the "default answer" that principal Peter Hutton of Templestowe College in Australia gives when he is approached by members of his school community.

          Last week, I came across a tweet posted by Kath Murdoch (@kjinquiry), a teacher, author, educational consultant and university lecturer from Australia who works in the field of inquiry based learning and integrative curriculum. She is also one of the featured speakers at the upcoming #TedxWestVancouverEd conference on September 27th. http://www.tedxwestvancouvered.com

Murdoch's tweet referenced an article showcasing some of the innovations that are occurring at Templestowe College, in Australia. 

http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/templestowe-school-in-a-class-of-its-own-20140906-10c6tp.html

          What initially piqued my interest, was a reference to "multi-aged" learning. Recently, I participated in an impromptu Twitter discussion between myself and several colleagues, sparked by Jim Lamond (JLamond36) and Bal Ranu (@BalRanu), administrators in the Surrey school district, who were exploring the topic of differentiated instruction. As often occurs during these impromptu discussions, our conversation evolved, and at one point, the concept of multi-aged instruction was introduced. At Templestowe College, in addition to encouraging students to develop and personalize their own curriculum, students are grouped not by age level, but by interest and ability. In the article, Hutton notes that by next year, "the college will abolish year levels. From the end of their first year at the school students will study at whatever level is appropriate for them. There are no compulsory subjects after year 7, and students choose their course from more than 120 elective subjects." Additionally, in his "Principal's Message", Hutton comments that the school has "deliberately removed many of the restrictions that 'traditional' schools place on students, such as year level structures, single age classes and authoritarian hierarchy structures".  http://www.templestowec.vic.edu.au/default.aspx Interestingly, Templestowe does have a uniform policy. I'm also wondering how the "appropriate" level for students is determined.
          But what ultimately struck me was this concept of "yes" as the "default answer". Hutton does qualify his "yes rule" somewhat by noting that there may be exceptions if a suggestion might "take too much time, too much money or negatively impact someone else". But with over 120 elective courses offered, and an opportunity for students to "make up their own subject", I get the sense that this is a relatively rare occurrence.
         Is this what is ultimately necessary for true innovation to occur in our schools? What if all of our district and school leaders adopted a "yes as the default answer" approach?