Each new school year always brings a shift for me. Whether that shift is the challenge of a different grade level, moving to a new school, inspirational professional growth, or simply working with different colleagues, I am always moved to adopt new learning.

This year’s shift is different. Very different.

I’m not going to be teaching this year. This is the first year in 4 years that I am not a part of a classroom, a school, or a school district. This year, I’m taking a personal leave from teaching to pursue the remainder of my Masters degree full time. And I will be living between San Mateo, California and Langley, British Columbia while I complete it.

Yes, I will still be learning, but I will be learning in different ways. This shift is profusely more personal than any other one I’ve done before. I get to make a major investment in my personal life while also creating space to complete my education. I get to experience living in a different place and plant my feet firmly in my singular role of “student” instead of juggling the professional roles of “teacher”, “coach”, and “student”, and beyond.

Despite the exciting, wonderful, and mindful reasons for this change, taking a step back from where the real work gets done in the education feels like a major interruption to my professional life. And on August 15th, as I sat at EdCampSFBay, listening to the excitement of school startups, the passion of teachers returning to their beloved students, and working through professional problems collaboratively with peers, it was like an earthquake inside of my soul. 

Anxious, panicked Victoria took over (rather forcefully) and my mind wandered into overdrive: What am I doing? I’m not going to have any of my own students this year! What if I lose touch because I’m not in the classroom? Should I still even be in the classroom when I go back? What role am I supposed to play in education? Is it teaching? Coaching? Administration? Something that doesn’t even exist in my district? Ahhh!!!

As you can see, I wasn’t exactly dealing with things well. 

The challenge for me this week was to answer at least some of those questions by fighting back at them with logic! 
(Note: Logic doesn’t always come naturally when one is internally panicking at an edcamp.)

1. I’m taking this year off to be a student. One role. Full stop. No distractions.
   
2. Yes, no students. See logic point #1.
   
3. If I lose touch, I’m choosing to lose touch. I need to keep reading blog posts, connecting with educators, and attending conferences and professional development events. Losing touch is a choice.
   
4. Stay in the classroom…? Uhhhh… shoot.

This last question is very poignant to me. I have the space this year to figure out what role I wish to play in education moving forward. This isn’t as simple as writing pros and cons lists; this is figuring out my calling and understanding the path I need to navigate to get there, whatever that may be. There is happiness in knowing I could create larger changes in the educational sphere, but sadness in the fact that those roles are often farther away from kids.

The truth is, I’m not sure how this is all going to turn out. What I do know is that I have the space and time to focus on these questions, support present all around me, and room for new adventures as I live between my two homes over the next year. I’m learning to appreciate the hope, the wonder, and the excitement that the coming year has to offer. 

This shift is different. And I’m choosing to make the most of it. 

This week’s #YourEduStory prompt: The above quote, followed by: “Why do you do what you do?” This is a solid question for anyone, not just educators. I believe that we should all have a defining purpose behind our life’s work.

My purpose is for wanting to make education absolutely AMAZING for my kids is this simple: I’m never completely satisfied. As much as I have no trouble finding celebrations to be had in the growth of my students (and my own growth, too) I never want to settle. I never want to stop and say, “Yeah, that’s good enough”, and then recycle that lesson for the next 30 years. I push myself to do more and I do that constantly.

This comes from one little story from my student teaching days: my school advisor told me she made a mistake in what I considered to be a flawless lesson. When I asked her what she would improve on, she replied, “I left the handouts at the back when I was instructing at the front.” WHAT? That’s it?

As a then-novice teacher, I watched more closely and realized how the little things can take something from being good to being great. It’s not always BIG things that need to change. Sometimes it’s tiny things. Like changing ONE WORD in an instruction for a student that requires differentiated support. Like actually letting my kids be in flow instead of constantly interrupting it. Like pacing how I transition students to get materials.

I digress. These are little things.

But little things can make a big difference sometimes. And I’m not satisfied with the little things yet, either.

Here the little things I offer that might make an impact: 

For the kids:

I have the ability to make small strides in how I support my students. I make a difference by continually encouraging them even when they’re not doing so well. I have opportunities to turn their attitudes around toward an academic concept at school, or to get them to open their views to the world in new and exciting ways. 

For teachers: 

I’ve been working on teaching little tech-tricks to teachers make them more excited about technology. Even when it’s completely about us as educators, we go crazy for new tricks that make us look tech-savvy. And that’s the thing I’m making teachers realize: playing with technology and finding ways to utilize it makes us proud to use it. That, in turn, may motivate us to use it more, to experiment more, and hopefully in new and different ways with students. 

For me:

I’m trying to take better care of myself in 2015. I’ve said NO to so, so, so many opportunities because I need to let myself have more time. I want to dedicate time to my friends and social engagements. I want to watch TV sometimes. Oh, and sleep… that, too. 

So there you have it: I’m not making the entire world a better place by creating massive human movement. But I’m making the worlds of some big people and some little people better by doing what I love and trying to do it well. And I’m glad that I’m taking time to extend that gift to myself, too.

The most recent Google Teacher Academy was held in Austin, TX on Dec 2-3 and I was one of the lucky participants selected to attend. The badge that comes with this event - Google Certified Teacher - is highly sought after by many educators as they yearn to become a part of this exclusive community.

I have to preface this post with the fact that I am not an advocate for badge seeking. Educational badges do very little to tell about the skills that educators actually possess. In fact, becoming a GCT didn’t really require me to fulfill any particular abilities with Google tools at all. Did I know stuff on my own already? Sure, but I learned all of that from Twitter and from attending various conferences such as CUE, ISTE, and GAFE Summits. So why all the hype then?

For me, it was really about getting into that room with the other 50 or so participants that have also been selected for the event. Big thinkers in the educational world with diverse perspectives from all over North America? Yes, please. I could have spent both days just talking to the other attendees and I would have left happy as a clam.

The event consisted of a combination of design thinking, session-based learning, and group activities. Throughout the academy we were exposed to different people and groups depending on what we were doing. I didn’t get to connect with every member of the cohort - not even close - but I’d say I got to talk to about half of them.

On the  second day, we had an opportunity to actually brainstorm ideas, create “SMART” goals - those which were specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and with a time limit. We got to interact with other attendees’ goals and give constructive feedback on how they could reach them. The room was plastered in colourful Post-It notes all emblazened with endless ideas about how to make positive impacts in education, free to adopt or adapt for our own needs. 

Sessions

The sessions were based around advanced Google tools and tips from our lead learners. The lead learners were an incredible group who had a lot to offer. In fact, I attended some of their sessions at the aforementioned conferences, making some of the sessions a repeat of something I’d already done. But that right there is a personal problem. Every one of the sessions had good things to offer and got us exposed to each of the lead learners and their strengths. I could honestly listen to Chris Aviles talk all day about storytelling and data and I stole an amazing amount of presentation tips from Katie Christie and Amy Mayer.

The issue I had was that the sessions were a bit disconnected from the design thinking process that we had been going through. Because of my previous personal experiences with some of the session content, I wish that we’d had the choice of continuing with our design thinking or attending the sessions. The plus was that we got exposed to different lead learners and their strength areas.

In the End…

The Google Teacher Academy is more than just a badge. I’m coming out from it having consolidated some existing relationships and igniting some new ones. I got to spend a bulk of time discussing some big educational issues with Karl, John, Matt, & Rachel. I got to have a great late-night chat with several others from the cohort, among them Stephanie, Richard, Suzie, James, and Alicia. And most importantly, our cohort finally defined how GAFE is really pronounced (I’m looking at you, short “a” people). For all of you non-believers out there, it’s now called GAFÉ. You will never look at it the same ever again. And you’re welcome.

More seriously, the goals that I set for myself and the design thinking process were the most important aspect of this experience. I can honestly say that these goals are going to be difficult to reach while being enrolled in my Masters program, but as Chris McGee would tell me, I should just say YES. On that note, if someone asked me if I would ever go again, I would say YES!

Thanks to all who supported me in getting to GTA - you know who you are!

Each of the sketches, words, and quotes on this sketchnote have held some significance for me in the past two weeks. I fully and truthfully admit: my passionate fire for education is back. While I'm still aware of the deficiencies of our system, no one is stopping me from loving my job anyways.

I think it’s important to continue to have conversations about gratitude in education. In fact, these conversations have already been happening (check out the archive from #bcedchat’s discussion on Educational Gratitude). This has stuck out to me since things have gotten so busy again: if we don’t stop to be thankful and focus on the positive, we can very quickly lose ourselves in the negatives that we all know exist.

Please comment below with some of your moments of gratitude from your job, or better yet, a link to a blog post full of those moments!

This is a post I said I’d never write. I said I’d never include politics in my blog. Ever.

However, the fact stands that my blog is also a place for my reflection on my professional practice, and this is a situation in which I feel I cannot silently sit and merely internalize what is going on. I would actually define this post more as political impact on me as an individual than anything that would define my political views, though. So, here it goes:

This BC Teachers’ Strike defeated me. I say this as I look back on many months of consciously pulling away from social media, from blogging, from doing better work in my classroom. It has pulled me away from trying new lessons with engaging tools, from collaborating with other educators, and from personally feeling gratified with my choice of career. It has, in a phrase, temporarily deflated my passion toward teaching.

This job action experience, which has stretched back since early April of this year, began to highlight the ways in which our government devalued our profession. Now, don’t get me wrong, these were facts that I was already well aware of. So you don’t like teachers? Great, that’s your call... Moving right along.

But when those facts and opinions continue to get shoved in your face day in and day out, or it affects your job every day you start to feel pretty low. Oh, and the whole letting-down-kids, public ridicule, lock-out, not-getting-paid, piece? Yeah. Pretty low.

My biggest problems:

1. I had no control over anything that was happening to my students, my colleagues, or myself.
   
2. I was addicted to reading about it. 
   
   

I read everything I could get my hands on… about all of the things I couldn’t control. The latest move by the BCTF, the latest press conference by the government, opinion blogs, news articles, you name it. I would silently chastise media for focusing so much on wages and signing bonuses (which I could give a rip about) and their lack of focus on class size & composition issues, especially in the beginning. I would be glued to the #bced Twitter feed in all of its disgusting BCTF-vs.-Liberal-troll: Who’s-gonna-win-tonight glory. It was one of those things that you just shouldn’t look at.

But I couldn’t look away.

The things I read silenced me. Mean things. Nasty things. Lumping teachers all into the same, greedy, only-6-hour-workdays, only-work-9-months-per-year, lazy category. The worst part is… I  began to believe them.

Despite working on the professional development of others for much of the summer, I did very little to professionally develop myself. This was unusual for me. I started getting blocks in my thinking patterns every time I tried to imagine new lesson ideas in my head. My motivation for the program design work I had set up for myself at the end of last year began to evaporate, and quickly.

I started to quiet myself. Slow down. I did very little to add value to the online communities that I continue to hold in high regard. The social media outlets that I used to share prolifically to, I do no more. My blog archives became relatively empty when compared to the same time last year. I had nothing more to give, lest I be criticized. False hope pervaded every turn that we would be back again soon. I was hurt.

They defeated me. And I let them do it.

This week, real hope showed its face in BC education. Naturally, things started to change as the need to be prepared for the school year kicked back in. I have started reworking my grand plans that I hatched at the end of last school year. I am becoming excited once again about designing new programs for my classroom. I am cautiously regaining my optimism toward my career choice. The future certainly looks brighter. The time to start healing is now.

As we wait for the results for the potential ratification of an agreement, I can say I have begun to do just that. I know so many teachers in BC are hurting right now and that I am not alone. 

If you are not yet feeling on the road to recovery, join this challenge with me: take note of that first moment this school year where you burst with absolute joy in your classroom, school, or district because of your job. Write down a gratitude list for those moments that remind you why you love your career. Even for just the first week. 

I am using this strategy to heal the wounds; as deep as they have become, they shall heal. I look forward to sharing my list very soon to continue healing with BC educators… together.

I’ve always known that I’m NOT the best teacher for every kid in my class. However, I've always been someone who’s worked to be the best teacher that I can be for them. At different times in the year, I've learned that I'm falling short of being the best that I can be for some of my kids. So what can I do? ...It’s not like those kids are going to disappear from my class!

Like any effective teacher, I will change my approach for them. I will mold. Adapt. Flex. Find new and exciting projects or activities that will pique curiosity, motivate, and engage those students. We all know that these changes don’t come easily, or even quickly. They take hard work and determination.

But what happens for me when I try these new things… these new pedagogical tricks and strategies? When I give the integration of a new technology a go? When I experiment with passion-based projects and their associated organized chaos?

Well… here’s the long and short of it: It just might not work.

Actually, most of the time it doesn’t work. Sometimes this is because I am a self-proclaimed ‘program skimmer’; I don’t like to read the instruction manual before attempting to build the model. More often than not, it’s because the technology that I’m tinkering with doesn’t work the way I had envisioned it to (the NERVE!). But the bottom line is that I fail in my classroom in front of my kids... ALL THE TIME.

So why am I sharing this? Isn't a teacher's blog a place where shining and celebratory ideas are shared? Where pristine examples of lessons are glowing with positive commentary and reviews?

Umm, nope. Nope, nope, and nope. And if yours is like that, you’re not sharing the hardships. We all have them… And we need to share them.

Just like me, you’re probably not the best teacher for every kid. That’s okay. Remember: that which we share is that which will allow us to learn, grow, and expand. Let’s celebrate and embrace moving out of our comfort zone in teaching. 

Bill Selak and I have been chatting a lot on the topic of modeling innovation and educational risk-taking on Voxer. We both feel that it is important to innovate within your teaching practice, reflect, and have a space to share and feel supported in BOTH your eduwins and edufails. Join us on Twitter by using the hashtag #EdFailFwd as we try to help ourselves and others to deal with the everyday obstacles we encounter in our jobs and move forward. Let’s #EdFailFWD together! 

I've been having an immense struggle this year. It's a real case of FOMO, pedagogy-style.

I've been stopping, observing, and listening in awe of what my colleagues are doing with their students.  I've been watching, sometimes helplessly, as opportunities to do more amazing things with my kids pass me by. Or even more than that, seeing strategies that could make my current practice better. As I see all of the incredible demonstrations of learning going on in the classrooms on Twitter, I can't help but feel like I'm not performing to my full potentials as a classroom teacher... But I simply cannot take on any more commitments this year.

I know I'm hard on myself. I know that we are our own worst critics. I know it's a marathon, not a sprint. I'm only a third-year teacher, after all; I have a lot of career ahead! So I'm going to say from the outset of this post that I know it needs to stop. But I think that the idea behind this is worth sharing.

When this feeling of FOMO is happening, I become increasingly aware of the things, both big and little, that are not working in my classroom. I've become so acutely observant of this fact that it sometimes feels torturous to deliver any semblance of poor pedagogy. However, I cannot address every one of those "things" because it's just not feasible to do so at this very moment. Maybe it will happen by the end of the year, but I cannot address it with the immediacy that I wish to. 

For example, I still deliver math drills in my Grade 3/4 room... Guilty as charged. In fact, I delivered one today. Here's my thinking:

• Is this the best way for students to showcase their learning in a student-centred way? No. 
  
• Does this method lend itself to some, if any, formative assessment on procedural numeracy strategies? Not likely.
• Is my students' thinking visible? No. 
  
• Is it helping them to reinforce some form of immediacy and procedural knowledge for their future in education as far as numeracy skills are concerned? Kind of. 
  
• But if I think it's so wrong, why am I doing it in the first place? In our math lessons, there is immense difficulty with fact computation for several students. Some need a lot of extra practice with the basics. The drills only take up 5 minutes of the week.
• Can I fix this all RIGHT NOW? ... No. 
  
• Why can't I fix it right now? Because I'm trying to fix other things in my classroom that take priority over this issue.
  

Welcome to the hyper-analytical cycle that occurs in my brain. This is a problem. And I've been reflecting on this... A lot. I'm not looking for an answer to fix that example I just provided. I just can't say "yes" to accommodating that right now. It's not a priority over other things that I can effect and make change on in bigger ways.

I used to think that people were weak if they didn't say "Yes" to cool opportunities for their classroom that crossed their path. I'm now learning that prioritization and balance are one of the most important skill sets that an educator can possess. I am highly considerate of the things that I say "yes" or "no" to now because I have to be. But it shouldn't take a forced hand to consider that balance for oneself. 

This post is intended as a confession that my personal skills in this area are weak. You just cannot do it all. I'm building those prioritization skills up as I balance work, grad school, extracurricular commitments like the EdTech Mentorship Network, presentations, #bcedchat, and sharing my classroom. Oh, and that little thing called a personal life. :)

In closing, I'm sure this is something everyone already knows, but it never hurts to be reminded of:

It's okay to say "No". It's just not always easy to.

Virtually every member of our society today has an experience with public education in some form. Whether you’ve worked in education, worked alongside it, or received your education in a public system, you are very likely to hold an opinion of what that experience did (or didn’t) do for you.

I’ve been reflecting on this concept after several conversations with Shawn, my administrator (he’s actually the one who planted this bug in my brain, as he usually does). The fact that we all have different opinions of what education is and what it can be creates an extremely convoluted mess of politics, preferences, beliefs, and leanings for each individual in the system itself. It seems that even in the world of educational professionals, there are a million and one reasons to disagree on every aspect of education: pedagogy, assessment practices, evaluation, communication… may the list go on. Then you add in educational stakeholders, students, parents, and support staff and BOOM: you have one hot mess of an institution right there.

Based on my experiences, I have come to the conclusion that there is somewhat of a continuum in the communication of these opinions. There are aspects of our beliefs that may sit in one camp or the other, occasionally swinging based on our current realities. I know that I have both static and dynamic opinions about particular issues in my own classroom. I challenge you to reflect as you read on where you are most rigid and where you are most flexible in your own approach to educational issues.

Static opinion-holders are the types of folks who hold onto their educational experiences hard and fast. On one hand, it allows us to develop philosophies and practices based on solid foundations of our opinions and beliefs. On the other hand, it may cause us to be inflexible, rigid, and not open to new practices, beliefs, or ideas.

The Bad

This, unfortunately, is a very typical place for folks to be who do not involve themselves in getting to know the educational system beyond what they have experienced. They often don’t communicate enough to grasp a firm understanding of what works and doesn’t within the existing system. They don’t have a solid understanding of what kind of conversations need to take place in order to fix the brokenness that exists.

Bad static opinion-holders tend to be unyielding. I have run into these folks in the form of colleagues and parents particularly. (I’m sure I would run into them as students if my students were old enough to be so - something to ask my high school colleagues for sure!) I find that the problem is that they do not carry and possess a growth mindset as far as educational awareness is concerned. And it doesn’t mean that the opinion they carry of education is necessarily negative; it just means that they hold it in the same regard with whatever experience they may have had in their past.

The saddest part of this for me? I know for a fact that most of these opinion-holders still place a high value on education. The fact that they may get involved just to speak in conversations, but not to listen, breaks my heart. Taking the initiative to get in the know and to model learning is so very important for education to find its progressive stride within our society.

The Good

Now that we have an idea of the negative side of holding static opinions, let’s bring in some good news! Here it is: That which is static is grounded, solid, and stable. It is a foundation for all of our firmest and fondest beliefs on what education can and should be. Static opinions allow us to make progress in our passion areas because we believe so strongly in it. They also allow us to make calls on what belongs in classrooms and how it is delivered. We can then better decide what is best for kids - the whole child, not just strictly academically.

I firmly believe that static opinions are the reason that I found my passion for education in the first place. As I shaped my philosophies and saw what personalized learning could do for students, I knew right away that this belief would be a fixture in my pedagogy moving forward. Even today, 3 years later (and I hope far into the future as well), I can say that meeting a student where they are at is something that I will not stop working towards. This static opinion is the roots to a solid philosophical foundation for me.

Dynamic opinion-holders are just that: dynamic. They change and morph their opinions on education based on their latest experiences with it and/or reflections on it. They may approach each situation differently based on the needs of the people within it, whether those people be their own child, a student in their class, or a colleague they’re working with.

The Bad

If one is dynamic at all times, they are arguably inconsistent. In my opinion, being too dynamic can hurt kids because then they never know what to expect from you. If you’re always flexing to a need, you can never “put up the wall” that the child (or teacher, parent, administrator, etc.) may need to run into. Lessons are supposed to be difficult sometimes. Without a certain amount of rigidity, or staticness, there is no difficulty presented to a person and arguably, then, no authentic learning.

From another perspective, you may never actually advocate for what you need in a given situation if you are always going with the flow. Advocacy for self and others in education comes from a place of static beliefs, those which are both necessary and good. Being dynamic in all areas does not lend itself to progressive change.

The Good

Dynamic opinion-holders are, above all else, open-minded. They possess a growth mindset and understand that there is learning in every given human situation. This understanding often comes with an increased ability to empathize, relate, and move conversations forward. To progress. And that’s what education needs, right?

I’ve worked with a lot of educators, both offline and online, who possess this mindset. I’ve worked with administrators and parents who give teachers the space to practice this dynamic approach with their students/children. Understanding that both adults and children will make mistakes SAFELY in educational settings is important to help change the system. I think that a lot of static opinion-holders cringe when we say the words “fail” or “risks” because they imagine the absolute negative value of those terms. The dynamic opinion-holder is not so quick to judge the meaning behind “failure” or “risks”; instead, they look at it as an opportunity to grow. After all, isn’t every experience in life an opportunity to grow? Why should education be any different?

I think I am most dynamic in my ability to assess students' learning. I am open to new and different interpretations of assessment practices, data (preferably qualitative), and subsequent changes to my teaching as a result of that data. This has been an area of growth and change for me since I began teaching and is, again, one I hope to continue solidifying in years to come.

It is important to keep in mind that while we all approach education with individual biases, beliefs, and opinions, we must be open to learning, shifts, and changes in the system. Education cannot and will not progress without that openness. That does not mean we have to sacrifice what we believe in, but rather that we need to listen, learn, and share for the sake of ourselves and others as we work together to progress effective practices.

As I’ve written this, I have been trying to keep in mind ALL perspectives of my words. But alas, I am human, and I do hold the perspective and bias of a classroom teacher and technology coach, so that may be present within this piece. Please leave a comment to add in your perspectives where you see fit.