Instead of an article, I am pausing to share what I am thinking, reading, and writing about.
Thinking About: Leaf Forts
I invited my 7th grade daughter to help me rake some leaves. She obliged, putting down her iPod and throwing on her boots and hat.
As we gathered the orange and brown maple leaves into rows so we could bag them, I was reminded of an activity we did as kids: leaf forts.
“We used to make these mazes with the leaves that led us back to our home base,” I explained to her.
“Really?” my daughter asked with a smile, probably forgetting what I was describing was from the pre-Internet and no-streaming-television days.
Instead of finishing a fort, she wanted to create one big leaf pile to jump into. Now I was the one who obliged and helped her with it.
In school, educators and students are engaged in a somewhat similar negotiation. We come in with our agendas, academic in nature with expected outcomes. Students bring different agendas: to be with peers/friends, to engage in meaningful learning experiences, to be noticed and acknowledged. Their needs sometimes feel in competition with ours. Subsequently we engage in a balancing act, of meeting kids where they are while striving to accomplish what feels like the impossible, i.e. “catching” students up to grade level expectations.
This give and take can be time-consuming. Along with the continued challenge of unsafe teaching/learning conditions and virtual learning scattering our attention, we are stressed and worn out. It’s leading to burnout for too many educators.
I have not offered any real solutions for my teachers, other than to advocate at the district level for more time for everyone through the hiring of additional staff. I am making an effort to bring people’s attention back to what’s most important right now: relationships. We only make it through to the end of this pandemic together. And this is where literacy, and the arts and humanities in general, become so important. How we relate with another creates the climate for how we learn together.
Consider a well-designed ELA narrative unit. How can I create a space within my curriculum so kids can have some say over the process and the outcomes? How might I maximize routines and time so learners can talk and listen with one another about what they are reading and writing, and to simply talk and listen? People are craving connection and control in their lives right now; the pandemic took much of it away. We can give it back to them with minimal plans and lots of self-authority. Even if the results are not as we might have hoped, we are more likely to return to our classrooms and schools in the future. Those kids and teachers will need us too.
Reading About: Imagination
I finished The October Country by Ray Bradbury. It’s an anthology of short stories by one of the most well-known science fiction/fantasy/horror authors of the 20th century. Other works of his that I have read include Zen in the Art of Writing (reference) and The Halloween Tree (children’s literature). Neil Gaiman and Stephen King are just two of many writers influenced by Bradbury.
Milo Imagines the World by Matt de la Peña and Christian Robinson has echoes of the writer’s/illustrator’s previous work Last Stop on Market Street. Both picture books guide the main character (and the reader) to think more carefully about the people and the places we encounter.
A copywriter going through a divorce and alienation creates a fictional personality on Twitter. The experience is captured in the anonymous author’s memoir, Becoming Duchess Goldblatt. It is one of the first books I have read that demonstrates how our 21st century communication tools may not be all bad. (I describe this book more in my Wisdom from the Field here, subscribers only.)
Writing About: My Book!
Even though Leading Like a C.O.A.C.H. is done, the writing is not. Now it is about revisiting some of the elements and themes of the text, both to promote it and to expand upon it. Below are some recent book-related posts through the lens of literacy.
At times I have been somewhat reluctant to let others know about my work, an “aw shucks” approach. I felt like I would annoy people and come across as too self-involved if I was promoting what I have written.
What I have learned is, it is selfish to keep our words to ourselves. We prioritize not wanting our feelings hurt over letting others know about a resource that could be very helpful for their practice.
Someone I knew nicely described how we should approach the promotion of our own work: “selfless self-promotion”. We have created something important. It is a gift, and gifts are meant to be given.
Maybe this wisdom that I received will be helpful in encouraging the writers in your world to also be a little more confident in sharing what they have created.
Take care,
Matt
Let me know what you are thinking in the comments. I am giving away my copy of Becoming Duchess Goldblatt to one lucky commentor!