How To Prepare For Next School Year

What Does Normal Even Mean Anymore?

After a year and a half of abnormal—remote learning, Zoom school, digital assignment submissions, and parents posing as teachers—do we even remember what a normal school day looks like?

Being the head of an elementary school in San Francisco, I find myself wondering if I will recognize my school come September. My students have grown. Their families have changed. Our methodologies and the way educators approach curriculum has evolved.

How can we bottle up this gratitude, appreciation, and resetting of the attitude scales and guarantee its presence in the Fall?

I shared 3 ways to prepare for the next school year with Thrive Global.

Are Teachers Being More Lenient This Year?

Teachers are used to being the ones who ask the questions. But, throughout the past 12 months, there have been many questions to which educators are on the receiving end:

• How are you managing behavior on Zoom?

• How do you keep children engaged from behind a screen?

• Is there going to be an enormous achievement gap when the pandemic is over?

All valid questions and all in need of addressing as we come out of an unprecedented year in education. We certainly do have much ground to cover in the wake of not being with our students, in-person, for over a year.

Lessons put on hold that don’t translate well across a digital divide.

Strategies that, despite our very best efforts, refuse to land as they would have if we were sharing the same space as our students.

Wi-Fi failures and Zoom links going awry, or laptops dying and iPad screens fading to black—these moments continue to pepper the landscape of remote learning.

And, the bottom line is that most of these pitfalls along the way were and are out of everyone’s control. Sure, a kid might have snoozed once or twice through their first online class of the day. A teacher may have hit the proverbial wall and dismissed class early a time or two. But, in general, when things didn’t go according to plan, we were (and, are) at the mercy of the universe.

So, when I am asked if teachers are being more lenient this year, my answer is a resounding:

It’s complicated.

Read more at ThriveGlobal.com for my opinion on letting students off easy during this unusual school year.

9 Ways To Create A Positive Culture

To have a successful learning environment, we must have a positive classroom culture. Our roles as educators involve creating an environment where students can feel safe. Teachers often struggle with exactly how to do that.

Should I be strict and firm?

Should I be fun and free-spirited?

We must remember that it’s the learning experiences we provide students are just as important as the information we are teaching.

Here are 9 ways we can create a positive culture inside the classroom:

1. Be excited - enter the classroom with the mindset you expect from your students.

2. Be optimistic - you are never too young or too old to live by the “glass half full” philosophy.

3. Be willing to laugh at yourself - not taking yourself too seriously without letting your guard down.

4. Embrace humor and the silly - you’re a teacher who works with kids, after all.

5. Welcome incentives and extrinsic motivators - help build positive morale and respect in the classroom.

6. Be authentic and vulnerable - helping your students believe in themselves and happy with who they are.

7. Enjoy what you’re teaching - if you have fun teaching, your students will have fun learning.

8. Set classroom expectations with your students - let them feel a sense of ownership in the culture of your classroom.

9. Build room for leadership opportunities for your students - our role in the classroom is to help our students find their inner leaders.

How to Get Your Child to Love Reading

Reading builds our kids’ brains. It enables them to think critically and to evaluate creatively. It builds their vocabulary which increases their capacity for communication. It reinforces lessons on character, conviction, and triumph over tragedy.

As a middle school teacher who specialized in Language Arts, I was determined to get creative in order to get my students to find the power of the pen as captivating as I did. And, while some kids were harder to win over than others, getting all of our children to love reading can and must be done. Their academic prowess depends on it.

How do we get our kids to love to read?

From the youngest children in our care to the most high-maintenance middle schoolers, here are some of my most well-oiled tricks and techniques for inspiring your kids to put down the gadgets and pick up a book instead.

Using Contracts With Your Teens To Establish Shared Expectations

In a recent webinar, I talked with parents about the importance of utilizing contracts with their teens. The idea is to enter into an agreement with them when the normal bargaining process has hit a standstill.

Deadlocked with both sides staunchly set in defense of their own points-of-view.

Schools have employed student contracts for years. Honor Codes, Attendance Agreements, Homework Policies. These all exist as ways to outline expectations for our kids to agree to so they understand that in every facet of their life’s journey, they will be given a set of parameters by which they are expected to adhere:

·      Job description

·      Lease agreement

·      Marriage

·      Buying a car

And, while most teachers and parents employ contracts for the here and now—using it as a ceasefire from the verbal slings and arrows that are often exchanged by both sides—it is a way to embed a life skill into the fibers of your student’s being to send them out into the world with knowledge on how to be mindful of what they need to accomplish to achieve success.

So, what goes into a successful contract between a student and their parent?

1. It should be written as a point of collaboration between everyone involved. Contracts are best served when our kids have input. They are far more likely to buy into expectations if they know that their own ideas, thoughts, and feelings are taken into consideration. And, we want them to feel that sense of ownership—that is how we draw them into making meaningful changes.

2. It shouldn’t be too long. We want our kids to be successful at meeting the expectations outlined in a contract. So, stick to the specific behavior you are seeking to modify with it. If it is about your student’s engagement in online learning, focus on that. Don’t stray to how they should treat their sibling or chores that you want them to help with. Be direct—you want them to:

   a.     wake up on time for classes

   b.     log-into all subjects

   c.     not accumulate any absences unless preapproved by yourself (or another family member)

   d.     check-in weekly, as a family, with their homeroom teacher to track progress; etc.

3. Be mindful of the time allotment. If you are facing a triage situation, make it a weekly contract that can be amended from one Sunday to the next based upon progress. If the contract is being created out of the desire for longer-term goals, then perhaps set it for a month, or a quarter, with predetermined dates to check-in on momentum and wins, or frank reminders on what you both agreed upon.

4. Everyone involved should sign and date it. This is an official agreement that you are drafting. Treat it seriously if you want your teen to.

The goal of any contract is to see meaningful and impactful change. This will come, over time, so be sure to celebrate the successes along the way. Be keenly aware of efforts made by your teen to meet its expectations, but also, hold them accountable. If you see them in violation of a contractual agreement, talk about it.

I’ve created a contract template to help you get started. Sign up now for your free download….

The Overly Honest Teacher’s Christmas List

After nine months of remote learning—sheltering-in-place, waiting out the pandemic, watching my students grow-up from afar-- all I want for Christmas is for life to get back to normal.

I know, I know. Earth-shattering sentiments.

In all seriousness, though—I’m pretty sure that Santa is finding the hope for a speedy recovery atop everyone’s holiday lists this year. And, while I know that he’s a well-intentioned guy, I thought that I should probably add a few other of my Overly Honest Teacher favorites to this year’s Christmas catalog, just in case he can’t deliver a global end to this pandemic quite yet.

1. Pens, pencils, binder paper.

   Because, the second we restock our arsenal of classroom supplies, they’re gone.

2. Accessible wi-fi for students everywhere.

   Because, even after remote learning is done, our kids still need to be able to learn at home successfully.

3. Wine.

   Because… teaching.

4. Sneakers—any kind, any color.

   Because, we need to be nimble, agile, and able to keep up with our students. Hats off to any teacher who wears heels all day!

5. A “Mute All” feature when we return to the classroom.

   Because, it sure has been nice in distance learning to calm the classroom chaos and conversation with the click of a button.

6. All the winter wear essentials (aka parka, fleece, gloves, hat, scarf).

   Because, let’s be real-- whether the classroom windows are open for ventilation from COVID or to air things out after a middle school P.E. class, teachers are chilly.

7. Board games.

   Because, it’s essential that we engage our students in tactile, in-person activities that involve strategy, teamwork, and conversation outside of a screen.

8. A vote or two of confidence.

   Because, despite our best efforts, teachers are always questioning ourselves—did we do enough, champion enough, strategize enough? And, positive reinforcement, in the form of an email, text, or virtual high five, really makes our day and fortifies us for the next.

And, finally, a hope for all of you. That no matter where you are celebrating, or how different this holiday season seems, I wish you safety, good health, and a dose of sanity as we keep on keeping on, together.

2021, we’re coming for you!

What Teachers Honestly Want to Say to Parents about Remote Learning

We know this school year isn’t easy.

As we find ourselves still staring into the abyss of remote and/or hybrid learning, there are a host of new things that I want parents to know. Things that will make homeschooling more successful. Students more independent. And, parents? Ideally less stressed and more at-ease.

Remote learning isn’t going to be here forever, but it’s also not going away anytime soon. The more that teachers and parents embrace this opportunity, together, to enable students to pivot when an unexpected hurdle blocks their lane of success, the better equipped those kids are going to be for life’s marathon. So, let’s get creative and work together to keep our students learning and growing in these unprecedented times.

Check out the article here on ThriveGlobal.com

How Middle Schoolers Can Make Friends During Remote Learning

I had the privilege to speak with Susan Borison from Your Teen Media. We chat about the challenges middle schoolers are experiencing during remote learning and I share how I am strategizing with my staff to build a community for our students.

What to Do If Your Child Gets Sent to the Principal’s Office

Kids are testing boundaries, pushing limits, and seeing what they can get away with. They are going to make choices that go against the integrity you have upheld in your home. They are going to pop off with a snarky remark that goes one step too far within the confines of respect for their teachers or classmates. They are going to bring the action figure to school you told them to leave at home; play with Pokemon cards in class; pass a note to a friend with an off-colored comment that lands in the grasp of their teacher, instead.

They are kids. Their actions are unpredictable, their decision-making often clouded by the impulsivity of proceeding without caution.

I shared a few tips and tricks with Thrive Global for navigating that moment when your child is sent to the principal’s office (a.k.a. my office).

I promise—my office isn’t nearly as scary as you might think.

How To Raise Resilient Kids Who Never Give Up

My jaw dropped and my pulse raced. There were so many things I wanted to say, but pragmatism took over, and I simply nodded. Anything else would have been combative and when is that ever productive to communication?

For reference, I was in the middle of a meeting with one of my Seventh Grade students’ parents when this was said:

“I don’t believe in making my children do anything they don’t want to.”

It takes a great deal to shock me; I have seen and heard pretty much everything. But, this moment is still blazoned into my brain. A memory that, to this day, continues to leave me perplexed.

For a split second I thought I was being pranked. That these parents would burst into laughter upon the utterance of something so preposterous. I think I recall chuckling a bit at first, but when my laughter wasn’t met in return, I uncomfortably squirmed in my seat and ceased to snicker.

Aghast, I chose my words carefully. My response was something akin to, “Well, the homework that I am asking of your child is important to their success in my class and their ongoing growth as a scholar.”

As an educator now for over half my life, I have come to realize how necessary it is that our kids work through problems, persevere when life is challenging, and spend time harnessing the creativity and tenacity required to approach difficulties and overcome obstacles. 

That’s what life is all about.

I am an optimist by nature, seeking to find the silver lining and glass-half-full perspective in all circumstances. And, even though I have been called Susie Sunshine a time or two, that has never prevented me from holding my students accountable to the reality that life is hard. Learning is hard. Trying new things, discovering hidden talents, putting forth our best foot time and time again, is hard.

And that’s okay.

The hurdles in life-- the piano lessons that they dread, the essays they disdain, the lunches they loathe—these temporary moments of angst are refining their perseverance. One day, when they don’t get the job they want, or they want to quit the job they have. When they finally get to play soccer, as they have been begging for months, only to discover that it’s much harder than they realized and want to try hockey instead. 

No matter how large the hurdle, encourage them not to give up.

I never did as a teacher, and I don’t as a Principal. It’s not easy. The eye rolls, the apathy, the lashing out. I’ve even been given the finger a time or two from an exceptionally onerous child.

I make a point of showing them that I am not easily swayed. Even though I may not like battling it out with them to complete their test, read their novel, participate fully in music class, I hold my ground so that they can grow.

So that they know that if they just sit with their challenge for a moment, they will be able to surmount it. 

How?

1. Utilize positive reinforcement to your advantage. Boost your child’s confidence and remind them of the times when they have succeeded.

2. Develop a contract around giving anything new the time it needs to take root. Unfamiliar experiences give our kids pause and often result in an immediate desire to turn around and run the other direction. It takes 14-days to form a habit—shouldn’t we require the same of a new hobby or activity they try?

3. Hold them accountable. Unless something is giving them hives or causing them emotional distress, encourage them to persevere. Just because they don’t like broccoli it doesn’t mean that the vitamins and nutrients in it aren’t essential for their development. Same goes for school, assignments, activities, and even friendships. Life isn’t always going to cater to their every whim—foster the resilience it takes to carry on nonetheless.

If I could go back in time to that conversation with my student’s parents, I wouldn’t stare at them blankly or nod my head and ignore their absurdity. No—if the past 14-years have taught me anything, it’s that my students aren’t going to always like what I have to say. They aren’t always going to be happy with the grades I give or the consequences I levy. Still, I will stay the course, confident that every moment that I keep them on the rails of responsibility will help steer them toward future success. 

How To Motivate Your Child To Write

Since my book, The Overly Honest Teacher, launched a month ago, I have been finding myself reminiscing about my journey as a writer. When did my love affair with the written word begin? When did I discover that I loved words far more than numbers, ELA class more than Math?

I’m not sure. Though, in high school, I distinctly remember when my junior-year Math teacher told me that I was “probably far better suited for another subject altogether” and put me out of my mathematical misery and into a second Literature course in its place.

Quite the chicken-egg scenario, indeed. I am inclined to think that it was when I found Math to be my scholastic nemesis that I sought to, instead, nurture my gift of gab. Knowing how my teachers saw my constant chatter as a distraction, pen-to-paper conversation was a far more successful means of communicating. 

And there you have it.

No matter where it began, though, all credit for any power my pen has must go to the individuals throughout my life who coached my inkwell’s point-of-view. Who edited my work, gave me constructive and sometimes crushing feedback. Who challenged my vocabulary use, the tone and syntax employed in each narrative, and pushed me way outside of my comfort zone.

My writing teachers came in many forms—my Sixth Grade teacher, Rhett Rushing, whose vibrant propensity for storytelling enlivened the author in each of his students. My high school Yearbook teacher, Peggy Brady, who inspired me on a path to journalism in college. Elsie Floriani, Founder of Gentry Magazine, who taught me to always correct in green ink as it was less harsh to the eye than red, and who believed in me as a writer way back when I was a college intern.

There are countless others, of course, but these stand out as my literary cornerstones.

Fast forward to when I became a teacher, and suddenly, I was in the shoes of my own mentors. In my own classroom I realized-- the writer in me loved teaching the writer in my students.

Did they always love it? Like it, even?

Not really. . . at first. But, I have discovered that, over time, my inner-tenacity is not easily swayed. Whether it’s hounding an unresponsive parent, getting a refund for a delivery that never arrived, or badgering my students into narrative submission—I don’t give up easily.

When I began teaching back in 2007, I made a commitment to myself and to my future students that I would help them take command of the written word. A love for communicating via pen-to-paper. A desire to write, and re-write, and edit, and refine their work with a patience that is often diminished by our harried culture.

Growth takes time. The creative process takes time. Learning and succeeding take time. And the process by which we teach our students to write is no different.

A snail’s pace? Perhaps. Worth the languid trail? Absolutely.

My collection of fears and worries during this time of remote learning grows with every passing day. 

How will my students continue to develop social skills as they remain so separated from human-to-human interaction with classmates and friends?

How will my teaching team continue to bridge the learning gap predicted by distance learning?

How will I continue to expand our mental health capacity for supporting students’ feelings of isolation?

Right there in the thick of my worry is the penultimate (pun, intended, of course):

How is the writing process of my students going to be negatively impacted by a distance learning model that is reliant upon technology?

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that digital devices, Google Docs, and blended learning platforms have both reigned supreme and saved the remote teacher’s existence over the past six months. There’s no way we could do what we’re doing as educators without the Internet gods watching over us.

But. . . the caveat to that divine intervention is that the beloved pen-to-paper learning experience so crucial to the academic growth and development of our students is left in the digitized dust. 

Oof—my teacher heart breaks a little more each time that I say it.

Now, I am the first to recommend that the must-have supplies of 2020 are reliable wi-fi and a device that can sufficiently enable your child to navigate the myriad of online portals and conferencing platforms they need to receive that almighty blend of synchronous and asynchronous learning. Still, we need to make certain that we are taking advantage of the tactile resources that are equally essential to their narrative process.

A notebook, along with a cache of pens—blue and black for initial drafts combined with an alternative color for editing and revising. No whiteout. No pencil erasers. Ink on paper—with lines skipped as they are writing to make room for corrections. 

Have a thesaurus handy—you can kick it old school with an actual paper-bound copy, or have it bookmarked on their device. Talk with them about why having a supply of synonyms is crucial in their ability to vary their words, expand their descriptive language, and not settle for the complacency of “good,” “fine,” and “okay.” Encourage their fervor for discovering new vernacular. Make it a competition—points and prizes earned for the family member(s) who most accurately puts into play words from a designated list, and dock points for anyone caught being basic.

Make a pact—set the expectation—that a writing task will not be done in one sitting. Increase your child’s time management skills by parceling out the components of an essay over several days. Day one is for drafting down ideas and framing out paragraphs’ focus. Day two is for crafting the introduction, maybe a few body paragraphs. By day three, the initial paper should be done and ready for revising. Day four is meant for redrafting the paper and reviewing its nuances one more time to make certain that there are no more words to be altered, no more paragraphs to craft. Finally, day five is for typing up the final draft and submitting it to the teacher, with the understanding, of course, that they, too, will have edits and suggestions.

Sounds arduous, I know, but it works. This system of really getting students to take their time developing their thoughts, ideas, words, and observations on paper will enable them, long-term, to be far stronger communicators.

Other things to keep in mind or try for those writers who are more reticent:

• Limit distractions when your child is writing. No music, no screens—time to be alone and quiet with their thoughts and ideas is crucial. If they struggle with the silence, try instrumental  music—even classical versions of current pop songs are a great way to fill the void.

• Set a timer to increase their writing stamina. Maybe you give them a prompt for a 10-minute allotment of time. If they balk and banter on said topic, let them know that they can deviate from it, or write about something else altogether, just so long as their pen is moving  until the time stops. For older students, this is a great way to practice writing under pressure, especially when it comes time to take their high school entrance exams.

• Send friends and classmates letters and postcards, supporting the USPS while making writing a fun and creative outreach project.

• Speaking of outreach, write holiday cards and notes that can be mailed to soldiers abroad or passed out to the guests at a local homeless shelter.

• Keep a family time capsule journal that mandates that everyone in the house takes turns writing about their days, the ongoing quarantine, remote learning hijinks, etc.

So whether we return to in-person school tomorrow, next week, or next month, the more our kids write, the more they think and communicate and express themselves.

Write on, kiddos! 

How to Talk to Kids About Current Events

When it comes to bad news, I have found that there are two kinds of people:

Those who talk about it.

And those who don’t.

Those who plow into conflict and chaos head-on, and those who prefer the way of the ostrich.

Neither is right or wrong, of course—everyone is wired in a different way when it comes to processing, absorbing, and compartmentalizing negative news.  I, for one, have evolved in my approach over the years-- I recognize that acknowledging bad news is a vehicle for keeping informed, staying safe, and looking out for the interest of others.  

As a teacher I have seen these perspectives play out amongst my students and their parents time and time again. One kiddo comes bounding into school spouting off about crime rates, political scandals, and gun control, while I am simultaneously receiving an email from another parent who is concerned that their own child is learning about violence from a classmate whose guardians are clearly playing fast and loose with what is streamed in their home.

Riiiiiight . . . 

CNN doesn’t have to be running 24/7 in your household for kiddos to perceive that violence is up, random acts of kindness are down, and the economy is spiraling out of control. Social media feeds are flooded with the news. The internet is laced with current content. It’s common conversation on the street, amongst friends’ parents—children will repeat what they see and hear ad nauseam (as I describe in The Overly Honest Teacher, “Little pitchers have big ears (and eyes!”).

Current events remain one of my favorite vehicles to use in the classroom as a means of disseminating both the curriculum and common core standards. As conversation starters, as writing prompts, as illustration of fact-finding and proper citation. Plus, it’s crucial for my students—your children—to be aware of what’s going on in the world around them.

Tempered, of course, with details that are age-appropriate.

During the years when I taught Seventh Grade, some major global events occurred. The launch of the iPad, the disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, the bombing at the Boston Marathon, Malala speaking before the United Nations. These, of course, were just a few of the moments that peppered the discussions we had in class. We talked about politics, elections, and what propositions stand for. We looked at ways to combat hate in our country and strove to find the positive in every negative news story.  Students researched the current state of affairs when it came to poverty, rights of the disabled, climate change and immigration.

Understanding the news was crucial.

And, throughout the process, we were both informed and informing one another. 

When your kids are informed, they are able to shape their own ideals, bolster their capacity for empathy, develop techniques for problem solving and conflict resolution. Current events help them understand that they can be the change, the catalyst, the mediator and facilitator of better things for themselves and their world.

There goes Meredith again with her overly honest optimism.

Perhaps. But I’ve seen it work time and time again. And, goodness knows, now more than ever, we need to generate humans who are deep thinkers and approach situations with compassion and inclusion.

So, I have to ask. . . 

When something happens in the world, how do you handle it with your kids? 

Are you inclined to talk to them about it right away or whisper it between yourself and your partner, out of earshot from your children? 

Do you ever stop to consider where you get your news—online, CNN alerts, Facebook—and, more importantly, where your children get theirs? 

I implore you to consider these questions. And, from there, think about how to better approach news media with your kids.

Here are a few of my tips and tricks for broaching the subject of current events with your children:

Communication is crucial. Approach conversations with your kids about the goings on in the world with transparency and authenticity. They are far more astute than we give them credit for, so even if you think you are doing a great job at sheltering them from the sadder things in life, they will learn about it somehow. And, it’s always so much better if those messages come from you.  

When it comes to talking about hard stuff with my students, I always approach it using my own feelings as the catalyst, thereby giving them subtle permission to express theirs, authentically, too.

You can preserve childhood innocence while helping your kids understand that not everything is always ideal. You can foster joy while also instilling the importance of helping others. Children cannot be vessels for empathy and proponents of change if they don’t understand that there is always someone else with a journey that is harder and more arduous than their own. Compassion comes from getting kids out of their own bubble (post-COVID) and into the shoes of others.

Discussing current events helps your children develop communication skills—conversational, written, debate. Use current events at home much like I did in the classroom. Pick one as a part of dinner table dialogue, or in the car en route to grocery shopping or soccer practice. Subscribe to Time Magazine for Kids, Highlights (for our youngest students), or watch CNN10 to get current event content that is geared for your child’s particular age and development level. 

Have them write about a news story, summarize the details or come up with an alternative ending. Or have them write a letter to a senator or local official about an issue or incident that they would like to see changed. For older students, you can even simulate a debate—where you or your partner or take one stance while another child/ren assume an opposing argument. Use their propensity for talking back to develop a skill and increase their knowledge about a particular subject. 

The news may be scary, but talking about it with your kids doesn’t have to be. Remember—the more they know now, the better prepared they will be to tackle life’s challenges with knowledge, grace, and conviction.

3 Ways to Prepare Your Kids For Long Term Success

No pajamas on Zoom.

This was part of a memo that I sent out to my school community a few weeks back. Granted, there were other things discussed—a school-wide town hall meeting, our upcoming lap-a-thon fundraiser, etc.—but, the pajama part, in particular, was a sticking point for me.

Why?

In the midst of a global pandemic—where many of us still remain relatively sheltered-in-place. Where students are separated from their classmates by computer screens, and classroom cohorts, and 6ft. of space—why-oh-why do I insist on no pajamas?

As I say it aloud, it sounds nit-picky. Inconsequential, perhaps. Is that really what I want to hang my hat on in this current state of affairs?

Yep. I do.

Let me explain. In my book, The Overly Honest Teacher, you may have already come to find that I discuss, with frequency, the significance of boundaries and parameters. The essentiality of processes and protocols. The necessity of students understanding that there needs to be overt and dedicated efforts made in them showing up, ready to learn, prepared to contribute, especially in these times of remote learning.

Pajamas are a gateway to sleeping. To disengagement. To lounging around and giving our minds a break. And, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that … on summer vacation, the weekend, or just about any time that isn’t tethered to being “in school.”

But, just as I reiterate time and time again that all kids should have a designated workspace at-home that is for remote learning only—not gaming, nor streaming, nor TikToking—so, too should their attire be that which will enable their minds to focus, their brains and bodies to be turned on to learning.

Now, I am not one to talk about wardrobe. At school, you can find me wearing sneakers, jeans, and hoodies more often than not. Quite the fashion evolution from my first year as a principal when I wore high heels most days because that is what I thought I “should” wear. What my profession and position demanded of me. But, the practicality of running up and down stairs, chasing after emergencies, and basically being on my feet from 7AM to 7PM was wildly impractical and didn’t serve me well in what I was supposed to accomplish on the day-to-day.

The morale of my high heeled hutzpah? Wearing something that got in the way of me being able to complete everything that my job required of me to the best of my ability was just plain foolish.

Which has led me to contemplate how our students let certain things get in their paths of academic success.

-Apathy

-Peer pressure

-Fear of failure

-Digital distraction

-Undernourishment

-Pajamas (or other unconducive attire)

-Lack of sleep

-Disorganization

-Lack of preparation

The list could go on, but as a teacher, these are some of the most common aggressors that prey upon my students’ paths to true academic enlightenment. And, just as fervent as these pitfalls are when we are engaged in in-person learning, so do they sadly thrive in remote learning, as well.

Because, as abnormal as distance learning feels, the threads of commonality between this new normal and the school routine we have previously come to rely upon really aren’t that different in a lot of ways.

So, how do we enable our kids to cast off their Achilles' [high] heels and instead embrace that which will lead them to long-term success?

• We hold them accountable when they begin to stray off-course. If your child appears to be assimilating to their newly found apathy, call them out on it.

  • “I’m noticing that you seem less enthusiastic about school. What’s up?”

  • “Your care and concern for being a successful student has always been one of my favorite characteristics about you. I don’t see that as often anymore. How come?”

  • “I know that it can be hard to always stay energetic and engaged in your schoolwork, but you have so many important things up ahead. How can I help you keep your eye on the prize (i.e. high school admission, Honor Roll placement, scholarships or other merits)?”

• We risk the argument or clap back from our kids as we help them recognize the importance of showing up, doing their best, displaying their best, at all times. Especially in conversations with pre- and post-adolescents, these can be unpleasant, at best. But, the long-term consequences of students who lack a strong sense of work ethic will follow them well past their elementary, middle, and high school years.  Setting boundaries with your kids is essential—even when it feels like a fight.

• We get into the trenches and help them.

  • Struggling with disorganization and routine?

    Come up with a game plan that both you and your child adhere to, even in the busiest and most chaotic of times.

  • Struggling with a fear of failing?

    Be vulnerable and share with your kids times when you, yourself, have had to overcome moments of anxiety and alarm when things didn’t go as planned or you didn’t have all of the answers.

  • Struggling with exhaustion during the school day?

    Reset bedtimes, curfews, and the powering down of devices to enable your kids to get the sleep that they need to propel their brains and bodies for the day of learning to follow.

  • Struggling with making time for breakfast?

    Prepare it the night before, and find a few moments in the morning to have your child eat something. Protein, carbs—they have long, arduous days ahead of them, and without the proper fuel, everything they are taught is going to take a backseat to their hunger pains and distracted pangs.

Am I forsaking the formality of my position as a principal by not dressing to the nines each day? Are my students’ freedoms being somehow stifled by my not allowing them to wear pajamas on their Zoom meetings? Not a chance, for it is our job to model for our kids the right way to approach our responsibilities, to tackle the hurdles and tasks put into our paths daily.

So, see ya later, stilettos.

3 Tips For Promoting Student Accountability

I got a C-minus in Computer class when I was in the Fifth Grade. 

In a lot of ways, it made sense. I have never been  particularly tech savvy, and it was the early 90s when computers were certainly not in high fashion just yet (though, Oregon Trail and Carmen San Diego were definitely my jam). 

My less-than-stellar grade wasn’t actually due to my lack of technology skills or disinterest in the subject matter. No, my barely passing grade was the result of a failed exam. I wish that I could remember what the test was about, or why I failed. But, alas, I cannot. What I can tell you is this:

I didn’t tell my parents why I got the grade that I did.

It was the end of the First Quarter, so that meant parent-teacher conferences. My mom and dad had booked additional time to meet with my Computer teacher to understand why in the world their daughter received a C-minus without any explanation.

“My teacher hates me,” I told them.

“I have no idea why I got that grade,” I said confidently.

“This is so unfair!” I whined.

My bravado quickly cracked as I watched them walk into that parent-teacher meeting. 

I  vividly remember the stone cold expressions on both of their faces when they came out of the classroom. I tried to play it off casually. “What did she say?” I inquired, doe-eyed.

The truth came out––My parents were mortified at my deception, yes, but beyond that, they couldn’t believe that I had a) led them to believe that one of my teachers had a personal vendetta against me, and b) that they were made to look like absolute fools going in to defend me only to discover that I was the illustrator of my own demise. I had failed a test, hidden it from them, and then made up some cockamamie tale to try to avoid accountability.

As a teacher I have seen this same scenario play out time and time again. Forged signatures on tests; tall tales about the circumstances surrounding a test’s validity, or the unfairness of being forced to take a test in the first place.

Can I blame them? 

Not really. Clearly I was them at one time, too. But I will tell you the clear difference between then and now:

My parents didn’t back me when I was unmistakably in the wrong. There were consequences for my missteps and conversations on how I could do better next time.

When I was three, and I pushed the party clown into the pool at a friend’s birthday party, my bewildered parents talked to me about how to handle my feelings of stress and anxiety appropriately. When my First Grade teacher noted on my report card that, “Meredith would be better served worrying about herself than the goings on of others,” they talked with me about paying better attention in class, using recess time for socializing with my friends, and knowing what was my business and what wasn’t. When my Eighth Grade teacher spoke with them about me talking too much in class, there was no question about whether or not I felt like I was being disruptive—instead our conversation  focused on how could I better communicate with others at the right time and place, so that I was never in a position of doling out disrespect.

My parents never played  into the game of whose-fault-is-it? And neither did the parents of my friends. Because, at the end of the day, in each of these scenarios, we were the children. The students. The scholars—striving to navigate our way amongst the plethora of pitfalls that line all of our paths at one point or another. My parents, my friends’ parents, knew, as I do now, that the scraped knees, the tumbles, the testing of boundaries were all ways in which we were being refined into humans of strength and resilience. Sure—they were there to support us, to help us dust ourselves off and try again. But did they steamroll over every bump before us, or forge their way into every conflict we faced, staunchly defending us, even when we were clearly in the wrong and out-of-bounds?

No, they did not.

Accountability is a dying flame, and if we don’t begin to reignite its embers, I am fearful of what’s to follow. A generation with no sense of self-regulation? A population so deep in the blame game they can’t see the rich opportunities for personal growth and refinement?

The overly honest teacher in me is very worried.

So, what do we do?

1. We give our kids the chance to fail. We give them permission to not always be the best, the brightest, the top-of-the-heap. We let them know that not everything is going to always go their way, and that that’s okay. They will be alright in those moments of failure and defeat. And, when life knocks them down a bit, we come alongside them to talk about what they’ve learned; how they will do things differently next time.

2. We encourage honesty and ownership. Most of the time, when I have to call a student to my office over a disciplinary issue, I begin our conversation with this phrase: “There is nothing more important to me in this conversation than honesty.”

We talk about how, no matter how bad things are, or how poor  their decision-making was, they need to own it, repair it, and move forward with integrity. Setting the tone with your kids that they are loved, no matter how messy things might be in a moment of turmoil, is crucial. Illustrating for them the necessity of truth telling and making space for them to be honest—in all circumstances—is key. Kids need to feel safe in their vulnerability. Model  ownership of mistakes and when you slip up. It will give them the opportunity to see how candor and authenticity is done right.

3. We hold them to a higher standard. Set expectations for your family—around the use of language, self-talk, shared responsibilities, and the tenets of character (i.e. compassion, generosity, patience). When someone—you, your partner, your children—doesn’t adhere to these expectations, hold them accountable. Have a conversation about it in the moment.

• “I was super bummed to hear you criticize yourself earlier. Your hair looks great today!” 

• “I really need you to use more encouraging words when talking with your sister. She needs your support every day.”

If everyone is slipping into bad habits, call a family meeting—we teachers have class meetings all the time if the majority is struggling to adhere to a class-wide ideal. Take 10-minutes, remind one another about why you set these expectations, why everyone seems to be having a hard time following it/them, and come up with a renewed game plan. Throw in an incentive or two to really up the motivation ante, and work together.

You see, my C-minus in Computer class debacle was never about the grade. I would receive a good many other less-than-stellar scores throughout my time as a student. My deception was far more about avoiding accountability, not wanting to let anyone down and diverting the responsibility away from myself. As I learned over time, and as I have sought to teach my students, the best growth we gain in life comes from the times when we fail, when we fall, and  when we get back up again.

DON’T FORGET TO PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY OF MY NEW BOOK.

AVAILABLE OCTOBER 13TH

How Do You Raise a Responsible Human?

This is a question, as an educator, I have so often pondered.

How do we, as a collective village comprised of parents and teachers and coaches and mentors, raise students with an innate sense of responsibility—for self, for others, and for their surroundings? How do we walk the paths trodden by matriarchs like Alberta Williams King, or Alicia Chavez, or Celia Bader? How do we replicate the empathy, compassion, ingenuity, and strength cultivated in the hearts and minds of their children? Children who grew into pillars of tolerance and justice—the warriors of advocacy and peace.

How, in this virtual world we’ve erected where YouTube is our reality and emojis relay our feelings? We subsist in an ever-shifting culture that now so often indemnifies hate and the hijinks of hypocrites—where the self-worth of our kids is aligned with the number of followers they have and the amount of likes they receive.

How do we raise a responsible human?

A leader who is willing to use their voice as a rallying cry for the underserved.

A visionary who is willing to swim upstream in an effort to stand for justice.

A thought-partner to ingenuity and an erector of peace.

This week I wrote a piece for Thrive Global on how we, as a collective village, can help shape a sense of responsibility in our children.

Three Ways To Encourage Your Student To Be Kind

Let’s talk about language.

As you will come to find in my book, The Overly Honest Teacher, language was a huge foundation of the curriculum I taught, the classroom I built, and the culture I created as a middle school teacher. The words students spoke to one another mattered. The vocabulary they used to describe themselves mattered. The lyrics of the music they listened to and the dialogue in the films they watched—it all mattered.

Part of this is because I love language. Written, spoken, sung. I love words and their ability to brighten someone’s day or extend a message of support. Words are my jam, and I still, to this day, want my students to love them as much as I do.

One year my classroom theme was built around the novel, The Help. We were reading it in Eighth Grade literature, and I wanted key messages from the book to guide our academic pursuits all year long. The bulletin boards in my classroom housed a profound quote that guides both my professional and personal life:

One of the novel’s protagonists, Aibileen, a domestic worker in 1960 Jackson, Mississippi, speaks this phrase each morning to the child in her care. Wanting this baby to grow up knowing her inherent worth and value, Aibileen reiterates this message over and over, mostly in the hopes of drowning out the array of negativity perpetuated by the child’s mother. 

“You is kind.” 

“You is smart.” 

“You is important.”

The irony of my posting this quote with clearly incorrect grammar was not lost on my students. For the first week of school that year I must have heard from each one of them about its mistakes (I was, and still remain, a stickler about proper noun-verb agreement). But, as fervent as I am about correct sentence structure, I am equally passionate about words that build character and good conscience.

My dear Abileen certainly checks that box.

In my book you will read all about my system of accountability that came into play when students would misspeak about themselves, or others, in our class, so I won’t belabor the point here. But, what I will tell you, is that I never wavered in my expectation that my students were to be kind. Their words were to be vessels for building others up, extending messages of courage and compassion and congratulations. They were to fight off the urge to respond with snark when a classmate was annoying them; refuse to give into the temptation to name-call when someone made a mistake; and they were expected to give one another the grace to extend love to each other even when they were still learning to love themselves..

Being an adolescent is hard.  And being a human is even harder.

If we are going to cast off the bad habits and negative routines of life before COVID; if we have any hope of cultivating generosity in following generations, then we have to choose our words wisely, and we have to demand the same of our youth.

Kids today thrive on self-deprecation. They are in a constant state of comparison, being fed conflicting content from all directions. So much of social media challenges my students to hold their self-worth up against a universe of filters and photoshop, and they lack the wisdom that only comes with time to discern which of these influencers is truly there to build them up. Compound that with an audience of followers who use words to cast judgement on their posts and feeds, and you have a climate of superficiality and self-doubt.

As the end of each year approached, my Seventh Grade students would work on a collaborative project. Affectionately titled The Book of Affirmations, every student in my class (of 30-something scholars) was to write three sentences to each of their classmates using adjectives and positive thoughts to express their appreciation of one another. The caveat was that every affirmation had to use a different adjective, so no two were alike (there’s never not an opportunity to have students use the Thesaurus and expand their word count). 

Once submitted, I would have them all printed and bound into individual books, and we would head out on a retreat  to read them over together. Not only would they find comfort and affirmation in the positive words, but they would likewise have the opportunity to see what others treasured about their classmates. This helped to nurture a deeper appreciation for one another. 

Even I was the recipient of kind words once in a while. These were left on my classroom whiteboard at lunchtime or when I first walked in in the morning.

It didn’t matter how wonky the week was, or if I was having a bad hair day, or if my grading of student essays was three weeks behind schedule. When my students gave me this kind of affirmation, I could tackle anything the day, or week, or year, was deciding to throw at me.

Now . . . was our classroom always sunshine and roses? Was it peace, love, and harmony 24/7? If you instill this methodology at home, will it diminish sibling rivalries and manifest chores being done without prompting?

Nope. Not a chance.

But it just might alter  how your children view themselves and others. The more we change the internal dialogue for our students, the more we enable them to choose to be kind over catty.

How?

Well, for starters, you have to model this methodology. You need to be attune to the words you speak, the phrases you utter, the judgments you dish out. Kids hate hypocrisy, so it’s essential that if you want them to take your expectations seriously, they need to see you buying in-- hook, line, and sinker.

Then, make a family pact. Come up with a system of accountability, and institute consequences whenever anyone—you, your partner, your other kiddos—violate the agreement to show respect for self and others. Maybe it’s in the form of extra chores or taking a time out from technology (that’ll quickly solve the issue!). Perhaps you record points for observable changes in attitude or response that result in extra privileges on weekends. Motivation is crucial whenever we seek to fix a bad habit, and it usually takes at least 14-days to change well-oiled routines, so expect to be committed to the kindness cause for at least a month before you start to see fruits of your labor.

Start a gratitude journal. Back when I taught, we had a challenge one year—to find as many puns and oxymorons in real life as we could. You know, like jumbo shrimp or a boiled egg is hard to beat. I had a notebook on my podium, and every day at least one student added to it. The frenzy over finding these was palpable, and if a student saw a classmate add to our collection they would run up and read it before the ink had a chance to dry. 

Do the same at home with affirmations. Have a notebook in a common space in the house, and start writing down things you appreciate about one another. Maybe you witness a random act of kindness, or a really awesome study session, or generosity in sharing the last of a carton of ice cream. Write it down! Then over dinner or on the bus, take time to read it with each other. I guarantee that even the most disengaged teenager will be into seeing what others appreciate about them, which inevitably will inspire them to pass the same along.

So, no matter how disgruntled we all are in the dumpster fire that is 2020, there is always the space and capacity to be kind. Let’s continue to use every teachable moment possible to be a catalyst for positive change. Let’s come out of this year with perfect vision, the true essence of 20/20, as we seek to recognize in one another how kind, smart, and important we truly are.

Three Ways to Use Homeschooling to Your Student’s Advantage

Life’s Messy, But Remote Learning Doesn’t Have to Be

I don’t know about you, but the past six months in relative quarantine have meant one thing for me . . .

Organizing.

I don’t consider myself a messy person—not even close. But back in April, the state of my closets here at home would have told you a different story. A cache of bits and baubles from years and years of “collecting.”  I knew I needed to get a handle on things, but always told myself I’d get to it later.

Well, later finally caught up to me in the midst of a global pandemic. Later came in the form of filing cabinets overflowing with receipts and warranties. Later came as sock drawers brimming with mismatched pairs and a kitchen pantry of half eaten cereal boxes. 

Later was a mess.

So, as I found myself knee deep in rolls of wrapping paper and Christmas decorations and a Halloween costume or two from yesteryear, I also reflected on the hypocrisy of this chaos.

How many times did I hound my students to keep their desks tidy, their binders neat, and their homework planners in working order?!

Guilty as charged.

You see, among the many phrases that I would use on repeat in the classroom (“Quick like a bunny” for example), “Square and corner your desks” was at the top. In a room full of 30-some-odd Seventh Grade students, order was a must. And that started with desk alignment. From there, my bulletin boards were black and the messaging on them was streamlined and simple. Bookshelves were arranged with the same size and type of book, together, spines all facing outwards and in the same direction. My podium at the front was an homage to Marie Kondo, long before I even knew (or worshipped) who she was.

But, hypocrisy aside, I do believe that our time of sheltering in place has given us the chance to assess. To take a step back, declutter and dust off our priorities, and help us approach re-entry (whenever that is) with a fresh and newfound perspective.

The same can be said for our children. Time spent in remote learning opens up the opportunity for teachers and parents alike, to really help our students build out a framework for success. Sure—we do this, and quite well, I might add, when we are on-campus and in the classroom. But there is always an element of frenzy. There are Math interventions to run, and Band-aids to apply, and discipline to administer, and social-emotional strategies to instruct. The amount of time that we have to dedicate to the implementation of organizational structures, or one-off conversations, or outlining the ideal routine for starting each day successfully, is diminished. 

Remote learning gives us the opportunity—a bit more breathing room, if you will--  to really sit back and evaluate what’s working for kids and what needs some revising.

Take, for example, their own organizational systems. Think back to pre- school closure. What was the inside of their backpack like? How about those binders or notebooks you purchased at the start of the year? Were they:

a.) A catastrophic calamity?

b.) Never used?

c.) What backpack?

d.) All of the above.

There is no right or wrong answer, mind you. Just a moment of reflection to think about how to best support your child in their approach to their learning materials. With them working from home, either full or part-time, you can see what teachers normally do. What’s their workspace like? Are they constantly coming to you for a missing supply or a misplaced assignment? How do they respond to the organizational systems you have around the rest of your house—in their bedroom or kitchen, for example?

After assessing these things, sit down with them, and their teacher if you are so inclined, and talk about what would be best for them moving forward. Color coded folders, each labelled for a specific subject, can be a great starting point. Go one step further and mark the pockets in each one for complete and incomplete work so that students can keep track of what they have and have yet to finish or turn in. Put a calendar up on the wall and use it to mark, together, when assignments are due, and count with them the number of days in between, strategizing a game plan for managing their time and the workload along the way. An old school planner—you know the kind, with every day laid out and divided up into subjects—is another great, tactile approach for students to commit to memory what they need to do by writing it down—pen-to-paper. 

How about your morning routine? You’ve definitely heard me mention this a time or two. That’s because it is so important! 

With distance learning, time spent commuting has likely gone out the window, leaving you with more minutes in the AM to build out a solid approach to your before school checklist. Determine, as a family, how much time it takes to get everything done that is essential to learning—waking up, brushing teeth, dressing for school, eating breakfast. Are lunches made the night before? Are snacks parceled out for easy access? 

How about an alarm clock that isn’t tethered to their cell phone so that they can truly have a digital detox when they head off to bed? Check out this one, perfect for younger kiddos, while this sunrise one is great for older students.

Even if your kiddos are walking down the stairs, across the hall, or traversing from one corner of their bedroom to the other for distance learning, get them in the habit of packing up their backpacks at night (or organizing their work for the next day of distance learning). This practice, though seemingly minor, can be a game changer for students. No missing homework assignments or frantic calls to your office (or interrupting your Zoom meetings) when they’ve left their Science book buried somewhere in the rubble of their room.

And finally—how are they doing? No, really. How are they doing with distance learning, and Zoom classes, and Nearpod activities and SeeSaw lesson submissions, and P.E. on a screen and lunchtime on their own? Some of my best memories when teaching in the classroom—and, being a Principal on campus—are those real conversations with my students. The ones where I get a true pulse of how they are feeling about life. 

They don’t have to be too serious, and they don’t have to end with anyone solving the mysteries of the universe. Just a chance to chat about how their day is going, and what was that Science test all about, and did they eat their carrot sticks for lunch? A dialogue, even just a few minutes in length, to inquire about how you help them edit a paragraph, solve that sticky situation with their best friend, and see what they think about the upcoming Talent Show.  

These are the conversations that really matter to them. The ones that they will remember. The ones you will, as well.

So, fast forward to today. My closets are still relatively clean, and I can, once again, find my electric bill in our filing cabinets. 

Terrific. 

But that shouldn’t define my success at surviving the quarantine. And how your kiddo organizes their desk at the end of all of this, that doesn’t measure their triumph either. Rather, how we head back into the world, prioritizing people over possessions, benevolence over the bottom line, and showing our students that while success comes in many forms and fashions, it is accomplished through hard work and trying their very best. These are the hallmarks of how 2020 will be remembered.

Breathing Room: Three Ways to Be Less Overbearing in Remote Learning

“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”

I found myself replaying this iconic scene from The Wizard of Oz over and over this week as remote learning began. You remember it, right? The time when Dorothy and her crew finally make it to the Emerald City to see the Wizard, only to have Toto pull back the curtain and reveal that the great and mighty Oz is just an elderly gentleman with a small dashboard of mishmashed levers and widgets. Dorothy and her traveling companions feel duped and disheartened, and I find myself upset at Toto for getting in the way.

Kind of akin to the frustration I feel at COVID for putting us in this mess. 

I have been struck by how the streaming of Zoom classes, and facilitation of online learning, is so similar to pulling back the emerald curtain. Suddenly, so much of the classroom environment that has been shrouded in mystery is revealed. What we, as teachers, do day-in and day-out—our lesson execution, behavior management, and student engagement—that has remained in the realm of the unknown until now, is splayed out in the open for all to see.

It’s great. 

Really it is. 

The problem that I have discovered in just a few days of online learning, is that Zoom lessons and SeeSaw activities and Nearpod lectures are not an adequate representation of the kinesthetic, tactile, vibrant learning that takes place when we are firing on all cylinders in the classroom. Glitter and glue, lively debates and group projects abounding with energy and enthusiasm—these dynamics don’t translate from behind-a-screen. The redirecting of distracting behaviors that occur on-the-regular in the classroom seem egregious online. The hiccups that come, even with the most thoughtfully planned and prepared lessons in school, appear to be voluminous landmines of catastrophic proportion in distance learning.

Parents everywhere seem to be concerned.

Distraught. 

Worried when they hear their child’s name called out in an effort to bring their attention back to the lesson; worried that they have to be sitting next to them throughout the entire day to make sure they are on-track. Worried that if their child accidentally logs out of a Zoom meeting, inadvertently misreads their daily schedule, or forgets how to unmute themselves when called upon to answer a question, then remote learning in their household is a complete failure.

Hold the line, people—we are all okay. 

No one likes it when things don’t go well. Teachers want the planning and preparation that they have spent hours upon hours designing and calculating to go off without a hitch. Parents and guardians, who have worked all summer getting their households set-up for success with distance learning, don’t want that groundwork to falter. And, believe me when I tell you, our students don’t want to let any of us down.  But, the fact remains, such is life. 

Picnics get rained on.

Someone gets carsick on a road trip.

Heels break and hemlines rip. 

Life is messy, and imperfect, and the more we seek to control it, the more disastrous things can (and, usually do) become.

So, I want to give you all—the parents and guardians in the room—the chance to take a deep breath. You are okay. We are okay. Your kiddos are okay. My school’s theme for the year is “We are all in this together.” And I think it needs to be a motto adopted by everyone weathering 2020.

We’ve got this—together. 

Here’s the hard part. In lieu of my usual “do this” and “try that” spirit, I’m going to levy for you a few “don’ts” this week. Because, even though I know that you are well-intentioned and seeking to be on-top-of-it-all, there are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. In doing so,  your best intentions are being hampered by overinvolvement and overstepping boundaries.

Ouch. 

I promise, I don’t mean it harshly. Really, I don’t. Please embrace this list with the helpful, loving intention with which it is written.

1. Don’t chat with your child’s teacher on Zoom. Picture this: you’re in the next room when you hear your child’s teacher give directions for an activity. You, yourself, don’t quite understand what the teacher is asking of the class, so you head on in and ask your child to move over. You want clarification, which prompts you to open up the chat window and start an online dialogue with their teacher.

Let me start by saying that, on behalf of educators everywhere, we are so grateful for the parent partnership that has blossomed throughout school closures and online learning. We want to talk with you about it all. But not in the middle of class. Not when our attention and focus is suddenly taken away from the 30+ students we are trying to educate.

It is totally okay if you want us to clarify the parameters of an assignment, or elaborate on why we singled out your student when we did. But you need to remember that if we were in an actual classroom, you’d be at work. Or the gym. Or grocery shopping. You wouldn’t have the luxury of messaging us, in real time, every moment of the day. So please, wait until class has ended, and send us an email or a text, requesting for a time to meet. And, when the day has ended and our students have left our virtual care, we’ll get right back to you to sort things out.

2. Please give your child breathing room. When you drop your child off at school, you are giving them the opportunity to stretch the boundaries of their autonomy and independence. They are responsible for asking for help, getting out their morning snack, and transitioning from one class to the next. You aren’t there to give them the answer to an especially challenging Math question or remind them to pay attention. 

The same thing has to happen in online learning.

I might seem hypocritical. Haven’t I asked you to keep an eye on your kids? To help us help them in staying on task?

Yep.

There is a distinct difference between wandering past their computer every hour or so and making sure they haven’t drifted to the alluring land of YouTube, and  sitting next to them the whole time. Some kiddos are prone to distraction— if so, increase your frequency from every hour to every 30-minutes. Send their teachers an email with your concerns so that they can share with you techniques for better keeping them engaged (noise cancelling headphones, for example). You sitting next to your child all day isn’t practical, and it is detrimental to their development of coping skills for operating on their own. We’ll all be back in the classroom eventually, and we want to make that transition back to relative independence as simple as possible.

3. Don’t compare your child’s remote learning program with another. Every school is different. Every teacher generally has their own unique approach as to how to implement best practices, to best reach their students. Let’s give everyone time to settle in. 

Now, if your child isn’t meeting with their teacher, live, every day for instruction in their core subjects (i.e. Reading and Math), that is concerning. But everything else? Let it go for now. Every school is striving to reach its students—I can say that with 100 percent certainty. There are many roads to success. There is not a singular pathway towards doing remote learning “right.” Give your school and its faculty time to work out the kinks and execute their program triumphantly. It’s so easy for us to give into the temptation to compare—the grass is always greener, and obviously, you want the best for your kids. But if they overhear conversations about how your school’s remote program is failing them, it will only lead them to be disengaged, and it will prevent you from unbiasedly evaluating all that your school is striving to do.

Bottom line—Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion all managed to grow into better versions of themselves, despite the trepidation they experienced when the emerald curtain was pulled away. Your children are going to experience that same development—of both their minds and hearts—in remote learning. We just need to give one another the encouragement, and the breathing room, to follow that yellow brick road together.

A Principal’s Guide to Sur(thri)ving Remote Learning

As I had the chance to see my students and families—socially distanced, of course—pick up their textbooks and meet with their teachers to understand what’s in store as we open remotely, one resounding comment echoed time and time again.

“I’m not going to lie, Mrs. Essalat. Distance learning has been rough.”

It doesn’t matter which school, in which city, in which part of the country. The frustration is palpable and the desire to find our footing in a situation that is nothing short of abnormal has everyone begging for the familiarity of at-school learning once more.

As a principal, I totally get it. I want things to be back-to-normal, too. But, I also respect the process that we are going through—growing pains and heartache pangs that are helping educators become stronger teachers; enabling students to grow into adaptable scholars; and, allowing parents to gain further insight into what it truly takes to educate our children. We will get through this, together, coming out better versions of ourselves on the other side, no matter how wonky and messy the process is.

I promise—you can “surthrive” remote learning, and here are my tried and true ways to do so:

1. Remember that you are not alone. Educators everywhere are champing at the bit to collaborate with you to make remote learning successful. Reach out to us when you are feeling overwhelmed, when you and your student are waving the white flag and feeling defeated, when you can’t seem to access the correct Zoom link or learning platform. Call us, text us, email us—teachers are team players by nature, and we love nothing more than to problem solve. We’ve got you.

2. Growth can and will occur. Learning doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Teachable moments can and do happen anywhere, in any circumstance. While it doesn’t feel ideal and is an enormous burden to carry, remote learning is still going to offer your child the chance to gain knowledge in the crucial subjects of their academic development. Have their daily schedule posted around the house so that everyone is on the same page in keeping them on-task. Set alerts on your phone to check-in on them to make sure they haven’t strayed to YouTube or Netflix in lieu of Math. Check their homework at night, just as you do when they are at school, holding them accountable in putting forth their best effort. And, make it a point to review with them what they learned during the day, not settling for the typical, “I don’t know” and “Nothing” as their response. Make online school the focus of your conversations.

3. Increase your child’s capacity for self-reliance. You can’t do it all—no one can. This is not the time to try to be the hero (because you already are!). With your student learning remotely, it’s the perfect opportunity to help them hone their independence skills. Task them with making their lunch the night before, or have an area designated where they can find their mid-morning snack on their own. Have their workspace outfitted with the supplies they need throughout the day, and help them get into the routine of cleaning up their desk and charging their device each evening. Tasking them with personal accountability, just as we do in the classroom with specific jobs and functions, helps them recognize that they are productive members of a larger community. And, it takes a few things off of your plate in the process.

4. Get everyone back on schedule. It has been easy to slip out of our daily routines when learning from home. Alarms have gone out the window as frantic kiddos now awake and jump on their Zoom calls five minutes before class begins. But, this is school, and kids need to understand that their engagement in learning is serious and requires preparation, even if their commute time and distance is much shorter. Get yourself and your family members back into a morning practice of waking up, brushing teeth, getting dressed, and having breakfast before logging on, eyes bright and brains alert. No pajamas. No lounging while learning. Clothed, fed, and sitting upright at either their desk or a table. Guaranteed that this will help everyone feel a sense of purpose and resolve, even in remote learning.

Some days are going to be a breeze while others will be peppered with potholes and missteps. The most important thing that we need to do, together, is make sure that your children, our students, stay on-track, engaged, and growing in the wisdom and know-how they need to be academically successful long after remote learning has passed us by.

Reel It In

As an educator, I fully acknowledge the ongoing debate around screen time. 

How much is too much? 

Of course, in a COVID world, I thank the technology gods for this vehicle by which I am able to reach my students, share materials, and provide opportunities for them to grow in knowledge and wisdom.

I have been an elementary school principal since 2016, so it has been a few years since I was a classroom teacher. And, to be honest, the allegiance that students now have to the screen has certainly evolved since that time. But, reflecting back to my days in the classroom, there was one screen that I fully embraced, and it was not that of an iPad or a Chromebook or even a cell phone. In my classroom the penultimate screen of screens was that of the silver screen. 

I have never taught  drama or theater. And no one, either then or now, ever wanted to hear me sing (oh my!). Still, in my little domain of Middle School Language Arts, I embraced films as a means of conveying literary concepts, life lessons, social justice ideology, and educational entertainment. I didn’t use movies as a babysitter or a way to take the afternoon off. They were shown with intention—with purpose. My students were very accustomed to me pausing them intermittently to talk about whatever was happening in the script at the moment.

Anything, even the dreaded screen,  can be a catalyst for learning.

As we head into a new school year, whether your kiddos are learning at home remotely or learning at school in a hybrid capacity, you can use films to help add curricular girth to their day; as a foundation for family conversations and to gain a better understanding of where your children’s thoughts, opinions, and personal values reside; or to reinforce the character building framework of empathy, compassion, advocacy, and determination.

So consider this my own version of the Academy Awards—The Overly Honest Teacher’s comprehensive list of categories, and the films within them, that carry my gold seal of approval in transforming your student’s academic, social, and emotional development.

• Documentaries:

  • I love to show documentaries to my students. I have found that most kids need some coaxing at first as this genre is often new to them, but documentaries are a great medium for emphasizing life outside of their own unique bubbles. They serve the same function as volunteerism, a hallmark of my classroom expectations, as they push students beyond their comfort zones and allow them to walk in the shoes of another. 

Some have subtitles. Great! They are used to reading subtitles on most of their Instagram feeds, so they are pros. Others are in languages unfamiliar to them. Terrific! This gives them a chance to increase their appreciation for the human voice and our connection beyond words. Some are very stark and show the grittiness of poverty, discrimination, and global conflicts. These are extremely important vehicles for important discussions..

• YouTube clips:

  • This is nothing groundbreaking—YouTube remains an incredible cache of clips to emphasize so many learning themes. I would use Fusion videos to talk about homelessness and domestic poverty, or Schoolhouse Rock to add some fun to an otherwise dry grammar lesson—remember “Conjunction, junction, what’s your function?”

My all-time favorite YouTube clip was one from I Love Lucy. In this clip, Lucy and Ricky explore a bedtime story together as Ricky attempts to read a variety of English words all with the same ending (-ough). Each has a different pronunciation. Now, while Lucy and Ricky make a comedic performance around Ricky’s challenges, there are incredible lessons to be learned from their humor. I always used this clip as an extension of either my reading or writing curriculum to talk about how difficult a language English is to get right. From there, we would turn this clip into a conversation around empathy for those who are new to the English language, our country, and the perils that come with an immigrant’s journey to a foreign place. A collision of social-emotional learning and Language Arts all rolled into one lesson.

• Blockbusters

  • Yes, even Jerry Bruckheimer can find room in a classroom’s curriculum. Blockbuster films are a great way to showcase themes of historical fiction or serve as a means of comparing and contrasting a novel that has been read in class.  Conversations around the transference of details from a book to a movie are great vehicles in extending a student’s analysis of character development, plot, setting, conflict and resolution. Often my class came to the realization that the movie-version of a story wasn’t nearly as good as the book (a teacher’s dream!), or that they disagreed with how either the director or actors interpreted parts of the book that were their favorites. 

These conversations are among my most treasured when teaching. These encapsulated those “aha!” moments that we teachers live for. While your child is learning at home, you too can experience the wonder of these scholastic breakthroughs.

So, fire up the Jiffy Pop, schedule a family movie night, and tune into the transformative teaching that comes through your television.