Photo By: Daniel McAnulty

A happy problem for our school is that we are just bursting at the seams with students. My room is used almost every second of the day. One of my colleagues actually has to partially enter the boy’s bathroom to get to her converted janitor’s closet office. When space and privacy come at a premium, what does a person like me, someone who likes to recharge alone and collect my thoughts, cope?

Recently, I took a cue from my students and I started to wear headphones during my free periods. People left me alone and I was in heaven. Headphones, turned out to be the invisible wall that I needed and that everyone could see.  Fifteen minutes later and I was recharged and ready to fully engage. I’ve never been a fan of this kind of behavior in schools. It visually creates a lack of openness and availability in the community. But, now I see that it causes the exact opposite. “Alone time” made me an even better community member.

What if we stopped judging and gave our students, teachers and administrators the cultural permission to recharge in the way they see fit? Our schools might be happier and more productive places.

The Way It Is

There is a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
Or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you can do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

-William Stafford

My thread is helping people to walk fully in their gifts and passions. What thread are you holding on to?

Chicago Harbor, Photo By: Katie Hellerman

Last weekend after a snowstorm, I took a walk down the river and lakefront. The setting was truly surreal. In a city as big as Chicago, it was incredible that I walked for almost four miles without seeing a soul. When eventually I did happen upon someone, it was a lone fisherman. I stopped to ask him if he had caught anything, a question lead to a lengthy conversation on all things fishing. (Did you know that apparently there are Pink Salmon in Lake Michigan? Or that you can fish without ever having to touch the fish?)

While we talked, I noticed that every once in a while, he would stir his string, so that the water wouldn’t freeze over the hole and trap the string. It was a true art form. If he moved the string too often, the fish wouldn’t bite. But if he didn’t move it at all, he wouldn’t be able to get the fish out.

I couldn’t help but pull a metaphor out of this strange scene. How do you know when you need to stir the string in life to keep from getting stuck? How do you know when opportunity is just about to bite and keep the string still? I’m certainly not wise enough to answer this question. But, still it’s worth thinking about.

As I continued on my walk, the fisherman, as if he had read my thoughts, called after me, “Don’t get stuck out there!”

"All Mine" photo by:Blue Moonbeam Studio

For the past year, I have been diligently piecing together the middle school Spanish curriculum. It is a labor of love that has taken more time than I ever imagined.

This morning, I received an email from a Spanish teacher at nearby school (a “competitor” for the same students) requesting a copy of our middle school curriculum. She had begun the same process and was interested in what I was doing. My immediate thought was, “Is she kidding me? If I give her this, then it’s like I’ve done all her work for her. No way!” It was a gut response of which I’m not especially proud. Even after one and a half years of blogging and tweeting, my first thought was to hoard. #fail

I keep forgetting that we all are on the same team. Last I checked there isn’t a limit on how many kids are allowed to learn to speak Spanish. So, in my second breath, I arranged for her to come, observe and talk about what I’m up to.

In order to start sharing more freely we need to get over the idea that we are doing other people’s work for them. Instead, we should think of sharing content and thoughts as doing our part to further the greater work. Credit will always come where credit is due. We don’t have to worry about that. But the best part is, that when we add our pieces together, we get the opportunity to mix, mash, shred, supplement, and develop something even better than we could have imagined on our own.

Relaxing with candle and mug in between classes

My classes are loud. You’ll find movement, acting, pretending, laughing and frequent high pitched middle school girl squeals. We move furniture to make space, throw balls at the board and watch Spanish language pop-music videos on full blast (is there really any other way?). Some people have quiet classes. That’s just not my style. For the most part, as long as the kids are growing and learning, the noise doesn’t bother me. I don’t get headaches; I actually think it is all pretty fun. My students can attest that I, for better or worse, I rarely lose my cool in our chaos.

Today, one of my colleagues asked me, “How do you deal with it?”  In the moment I just shrugged. In retrospect, I realized that probably wasn’t super helpful. So here’s my quick list of how I keep my calm in loud learning situations.

Water
I almost always have a mug with hot water or tea in my hand. Drinking water gives me a moment to collect my thoughts.

Make sure it’s loud for a good reason
Like I said above, make sure the noise is purposeful and is the result of engagement…not disengagement.

Fake candle
I know this sounds silly. But I have really been enjoying having one. I put it on during my break and reset my brain.

Have visitors and share what’s happening
The one thing that causes me the most duress is what people outside my classroom think about what appears to be craziness. I’ve found that my colleagues better understand our racket after they see what causes it.

Check your blood-sugar
Teachers are notorious for not keeping themselves fed. Hunger make us angry and mean. Don’t forget to eat food that will sustain you through out the day.

Photo By: Katie Hellerman--Oaklands Dock, Long Island

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I make birthday resolutions. Tomorrow is my birthday, so I figured I’d report in. Last year, I vowed to be passionate about something…anything. I had just moved to Chicago from Costa Rica and was feeling the incredible loss of my love of surfing. At the time I didn’t know what it was going to be. I just set the intention.

What surfaced was a rekindling of my interest in photography. I’ve always liked it but, usually I’d shoot for a few weeks and then stop. This time around, I attribute my continued enthusiasm for taking pictures to my ability to share them (via Instagram and Twitter) with a community of equally picture happy people. So thanks to all you out there who inspired, commented and “hearted” my pictures. It made a difference.

While primping for a celebration one night, I decided to venture away from my typical basic eye shadow colors and add a bit of sparkle. I was particularly excited because my day-to-day life rarely calls for a shade called “Hustle.”

On the way to the party, I got caught in a rainstorm that caused the shimmer from my eyelids to spread to cover my cheekbones. It was impossible to scrub off. I’m a generally shy person, so going into the party looking a like a Las Vegas go-go dancer made the situation even more intimidating. As luck would have it not two minutes after I had arrived at the party, a snarky person commented, “You look like you rubbed your face all over the Christmas aisle at Walgreens.” He went on to make a few other crass remarks, before I told him where he could put my glitter.

Even though I felt like I had resolved the situation, it stuck with me for weeks. I thought about how we get so excited try new ideas and how oftentimes we don’t have the proper support when it blows up in our faces. One bad experience with shimmery ideas leads to months of non-showy neutral colors. In the end however, the biggest learning that came from this experience wasn’t a ponderous intellectual metaphor.

A couple of weeks after the party, one of my students thought it would be funny to write a seemingly playful jab about another student on a collaborative Google doc.  When the attacked student read the comment, I saw the look on her face, and knew she felt exactly the same way I had at the party.

I always thought of bullying as physical intimidation or exclusion.  But I’m coming to see that words mixed with snarkiness and sarcasm are another cloak of bullying. The scary thing is, it’s ten-times easier for a student to say something mean to another and “get away” with it, than to punch him in the face.  It seems obvious, but I was genuinely surprised that my students had never considered that even funny/silly comments were hurtful.  As teachers, we need to help our students understand that what you say to someone can be just as painful as punching them in the face. We also need to teach them to build up and encourage through words.

Their happiness and future success could depend on it.

Photo By: Emily

Early in the school year, I had an observer come to one of my classes and point out that a particular student may be taking advantage of my easygoing nature and good will. At the time, I remember thinking, “Wow! I must really have rose colored glasses on. I would never had identified that kid as a troublemaker or at least one to watch.” Over the course of the last 1.5 trimesters I found myself hunting for proof. Of course I found it. By November this student had become the bane of my existence. I dreaded the hour I had to spend with them. I was convinced that they had a not so secret plot to make my life miserable.

I know it sounds inconceivable, but this week, in the middle of a session on verbs ser vs. estar, I had a moment of clarity.  I looked at this student and realized, that they were actually one of the most participatory and high scoring students in my class.  And honestly, they weren’t any more annoying than any other middle schooler. In fact, this kid was kind of cool.

I couldn’t believe that I had fallen so easily into a trap that I had previously warned others to avoid. I had let my early Fall expectations dictate the future. Woops! Well, I’ve got another 1.5 semesters to make it up.

Photo By: Jansen Mann

Middle school extra-curriculars can be especially painful to watch. There is always an obo that squeaks, someone who forgets the lines or endless minutes of no goals.  For the most part, I don’t mind that the performances are not perfect or that the games are less than thrilling. I’m there to support my kids.

However, as I watched our JV girl’s team play basketball this evening, I realized what is really hard on me is watching my students suffer. I’m not sure what size kids are suppose to be at eleven, but the other team seemed like gigantors. When they tried to steal the ball, they actually lifted our girl with the ball and tossed her across the court. That was followed by another one of my students be slammed in the back of the head onto the floor. I’m not even their mother, but it took considerable strength not to run on to the court and check on them. The funny thing is, that I didn’t need to. They just got right back up and laughed it off.

All this got me to thinking that maybe my students are more resilient to adversity than I let them be. When I plan lessons, I try to lead my students down the least precarious path to understanding.  It’s not that my lessons aren’t challenging, it’s just that they know I wouldn’t give them something I didn’t think they could handle. What would happen if I took off a few layers of the sumo suit I put my student in? I have a hunch that they would really thrive (and maybe laugh off failure?). The better question is whether on the first sign of hardship, I could resist running across the room to check and see if they were OK.