The year was 1995 and a teaching colleague and I were desperate to survive the overwhelming press of our school days. Although she taught in the actual school building and I was in a temporary classroom, a healthy walk away, we vowed to have lunch together regularly. We decided to take turns making one another lunch as a way to ease the pressure off at least one daily chore for the other every other school day.
Since my room was further away from the confusion, noise, and drama of the actual school building, we held our lunches there. With placemats, dinnerware, and even a candle, lunch became a formal gourmet event that we carefully planned and looked forward to smack in the middle of every crazy day, even if we only had 20 crushed minutes. In our relief from the pressure of our work, we soon found we weren’t talking shop during that time. We acknowledged, however, that were we to talk about methods, curriculum, or seek counsel from our shared 30+ years of teaching experience, it could be incredibly valuable for us both.
The solution became to write in professional reflective journals, as we soon named them. We each bought two composition books, writing regularly in one, then after handing it to the other to read and make comments in, we would write in the other. We were constantly passing our journals back and forth, and discovering that this form of reflection and communication offered immense rewards. We felt listened to through the comments of the other; we welcomed a sense of relief as we developed habits of pausing, writing, and reflecting about what we were experiencing in our classrooms. The struggles in teaching can so easily become overwhelming. This seemingly innocent move to write so we could simply relax and enjoy our little lunch ritual opened wide a window that offered a deeper understanding of our beleaguered teaching lives.
So convinced we became of the value of our journaling experiences around our profession, we soon created workshops for other teachers in the Houston Independent School District (HISD). Rice University sponsored our workshops through a partnership with HISD and The School Writing Project. Participant teachers began speaking of the same relief and improved understanding of their teaching lives. Clearly, this seemed to be a powerful reflective tool that could help sustain teachers in education.
I was at the end of a Master’s program in Multicultural Education at the time, and our reflective journaling was helping me to implement stronger and more equitable teaching practices in the learning environments I shared with my students. In essence, my journal allowed me to research my own teaching. My own personal experience and that of the teachers in our workshops soon became the foundation for my Master’s thesis - A Journaling Expedition: A Group Of Inservice Teachers Use Professional Journaling To Explore Their Own Teaching.
Since my room was further away from the confusion, noise, and drama of the actual school building, we held our lunches there. With placemats, dinnerware, and even a candle, lunch became a formal gourmet event that we carefully planned and looked forward to smack in the middle of every crazy day, even if we only had 20 crushed minutes. In our relief from the pressure of our work, we soon found we weren’t talking shop during that time. We acknowledged, however, that were we to talk about methods, curriculum, or seek counsel from our shared 30+ years of teaching experience, it could be incredibly valuable for us both.
The solution became to write in professional reflective journals, as we soon named them. We each bought two composition books, writing regularly in one, then after handing it to the other to read and make comments in, we would write in the other. We were constantly passing our journals back and forth, and discovering that this form of reflection and communication offered immense rewards. We felt listened to through the comments of the other; we welcomed a sense of relief as we developed habits of pausing, writing, and reflecting about what we were experiencing in our classrooms. The struggles in teaching can so easily become overwhelming. This seemingly innocent move to write so we could simply relax and enjoy our little lunch ritual opened wide a window that offered a deeper understanding of our beleaguered teaching lives.
So convinced we became of the value of our journaling experiences around our profession, we soon created workshops for other teachers in the Houston Independent School District (HISD). Rice University sponsored our workshops through a partnership with HISD and The School Writing Project. Participant teachers began speaking of the same relief and improved understanding of their teaching lives. Clearly, this seemed to be a powerful reflective tool that could help sustain teachers in education.
I was at the end of a Master’s program in Multicultural Education at the time, and our reflective journaling was helping me to implement stronger and more equitable teaching practices in the learning environments I shared with my students. In essence, my journal allowed me to research my own teaching. My own personal experience and that of the teachers in our workshops soon became the foundation for my Master’s thesis - A Journaling Expedition: A Group Of Inservice Teachers Use Professional Journaling To Explore Their Own Teaching.
It’s been almost ten years since I completed this research, and the explorations have never stopped. Teacher journaling groups have continued in Houston, and using a professional reflective journal is a practice I encourage in the teacher education program where I now teach (teachandlead.org). Since I regularly ask teachers to share excerpts from their journals with me, in turn I have wanted to make some of the reflections on my life and teaching available to them. Hence the creation of this blog.
First and foremost I consider myself an educator, even if I am no longer in front of classes on a daily basis. One thing decades of teaching has impressed upon me is that the healthy condition of a teacher’s inner self is critical to her/his success in the classroom. Ultimately, the kind of person and citizen we are comes through so much more loudly than any curriculum we teach or any teaching method we use. I’ve heard before, “What I am is what I teach.” This forces those of us in education to consider how all aspects of our lives affect our experiences in the classroom. I’ve come to believe everything we live ultimately surfaces in the classroom in one way or the other, whether spoken or not. I hope that's how this blog will go - offering stories that have helped shaped me as a fellow educator, or simply as a fellow traveler on life's journey.
As the "other teacher" in the journaling experiment to which Patricia refers, I can simply verify the incredible healing power and sense of community that shared reflective journaling provides. Entering my third decade in education, I still deeply value the practice which inspires and validates my daily efforts. Mulling the answers to the questions "What am I doing?", "Why am I doing it?", "How do I know it's working?" keeps me honest and humble but also keeps me exploring and inquiring.
ReplyDeleteSeveral resources have grounded me as a reflective practitioner. Primarily, Parker Palmer's work (http://www.couragerenewal.org/) has been foundational in supporting my growth as an educator who strives "to align my soul and role." I've attended two full years of seasonal Courage and Renewal retreats sponsored by Washington State Courage and Renewal (http://www.wacouragerenewal.org) and have worked with Courage and Renewal North Texas to bring a day-long retreat to Houston teachers. This work honors the undeniable connection between who we are and what we do.
The creation of Circles of Trust (as Palmer describes them) seems integral to the furthering of our cause as educators, especially as complications in both public and private schools increase. Learning to communicate authentically both in the classroom and among ourselves as professionals is the most powerful tool we have to affect change. Honestly, we must build community if we are to have the energy to speak out beyond the walls of our schools and educate our neighborhoods, cities, and states about what students and teachers need to prosper academically, socially, and, yes, even spiritually (although I recognize the explosive connotations of the word).
In my "real life" as a middle/high school teacher and Department Chair in a k-12 school, I find the monster of "too little time" as the greatest threat to reflective practice. I am looking for ways to encourage reflection both in my classroom and with the English teachers under my care.
At the end of every quiz/test, I have two or three reflective questions that actually count for points. At the end of a recent 9th grade poetry quiz, I posted these two prompts: Write about an aspect of poetry do you most enjoy; Write about an aspect of poetry you would like to spend more time investigating. The answers were varied and thoughtful, suggesting to students that I valued their input – also allowing me to think about how I might make our poetry study more meaningful to the students the next time around.
At the March department meeting last year, I provided a reflective questionnaire (What would you like to have more of next year? Less of?) and allowed teachers to have the meeting time provided to respond. The agenda wasn't packed with "to do's" but rather music played softly, snacks and drinks were available, and the entire 45 minutes allowed time for teachers to think about the year. Collecting responses in March allowed me to present anonymous excerpts from the collected responses at our final meeting of the year. Again, gathering the truth of others helped me in forming departmental goals for the following year and to know how best to communicate with individual teachers.
I'll close with a poem that I find works well with a variety of audiences as an opening toward reflection. The metaphor of "stacking them in better load" allows us an access point for what that better stacking might be -- whether in a classroom, a department, a school, or even in our more private of lives.
The Armful
Robert Frost
For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at once,
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with, hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.
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ReplyDeleteSharon,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your wise words. You remain one of my strongest mentors, and closest of friends. Ten years ago you gifted me with Palmer's book, Courage To Teach, and together the two of you have helped guide me to become a stronger and more thoughtful educator. The work you are doing with Courage and Renewal is obviously empowering, and I look forward to observing how these experiences continue to manifest in the incredible work you are doing with students and teachers. Traveling with you through this world of education continues to offer me insight and energy on ways to keep exploring and keep growing. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Patricia