When students are absent from school, there are many implications: they miss instruction, their learning is interrupted, and they often feel behind and overwhelmed. For some, the longer they are away, the harder it is to return.

I recently saw an Instagram post by Pernille Ripp. She has “We miss…” written on the top of her classroom whiteboard. Each day she adds the names of the students who are absent. “We miss Isaiah and Phoebe,” for example. This response to student absences values the individual students.

As a teacher and administrator, I took a similar approach. If a student returned after a day or more away, or if they arrived late (one day or many), I always greeted them with, “It’s so good to see you.”

Often–especially for our young students–their late arrivals or absences are not within their control. Placing blame or guilt does nothing to entice them to be present. It is much more effective to show that we care for them as people and value their presence.

Every day counts.

We’ve had our new puppy for two weeks. As you might imagine, our world now revolves around his needs. With the puppy energy high, many of our previous routines have changed: I now enjoy my morning coffee while sitting on the floor tugging on a toy, for instance.

Charlie’s learning curve is steep: each day there are accomplishments, challenges, and a minor setback or two. We expect them, of course. After all, he’s only 11 weeks old.

When we think about the students in our classroom, we know there will be accomplishments, challenges, and sometimes minor setbacks too. We’re about 100 days into the school year. This may be an ideal time to ask students to reflect on the year so far.

Consider asking questions such as:

• What have you accomplished this year that you are especially proud of?
• What do you find challenging, in school or out?
• How does it feel to persist with something that you find challenging?

“A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence.” James. N. Watkins

Last week, I encountered a few students who said “I can’t” and “I don’t know how” when I asked them to write. That belief is debilitating. And yet, with support and scaffolding, those students were able to write. Was it at the same level of their peers? No. But they wrote. Something.

It can be frustrating to have students in our classrooms who do not have the skills we would expect in the grade level we teach. In these moments it helps to remember that reading and writing are complex skills, and unlike oral language, they are not innate. When we better understand the complexity of what we are asking them to do, we have more patience to provide the support they need.

If we have students who truly believe they can’t, they may shut down when given a task. It’s on us to have confidence in them until they find a little of their own. Teach foundational skills, yes, but also expect and believe that they can.

I can’t think of the word pivot without thinking of two things: the massive instructional shift during Covid, and yes, that Friends episode.

The word came to mind this week as I was working with students. I felt the need to pivot in the moment and also for the upcoming lessons I had planned. “This isn’t what they need right now… What do they need?” It forced me to think on my feet. The spontaneous lesson was certainly not as polished as I’m used to, but even so, it was more effective than what I was originally doing.

As teachers, we are continually learning. Continually learning about our students. Continually learning about best practice. And continually learning how to use best practice to meet the needs of the students in front of us.

I often talk to teachers and students about having a growth mindset. So instead of looking at my lesson as a flop, I consider my pivot necessary and responsive. And I don’t know about you… but Ross will forever be in my head!

I’ve decided that my “one little word” for 2025 is breathe. I write this thinking about my jam-packed January: a six-day school residency, seven PD sessions of varying lengths, and many writing deadlines. I love all of the individual tasks but when I look at my calendar as a whole, I wonder how I will get it all done. That’s when I remind myself to breathe. Each breath is an opportunity to find strength and resolve on the inhale before exhaling any anxiety within me. Breathe. It will get done. There’s power in my “one little word.”

This week, as you return to the classroom with your students, talk about the year ahead. Lead them through some brainstorming: What attitude(s) do they want to project in 2025? What goals do they have? What “one little word” might be a good reminder for them throughout the year?

Once they have their “one little word,” give them an opportunity to represent the word visually in some way: a drawing (on paper or digitally), a vision board, even a bracelet with letter beads spelling their word. Whatever form of representation they choose, encourage them to think about how the size, style, or font of their word might convey meaning. Invite them to consider images connected with this word. Perhaps you also ask students share their word, their visual representation, and the reason they chose this word with the class or a small group.

Words are powerful when carefully crafted one after another. But a single word can be powerful too. Breathe.

As Christmas Eve approaches, I wanted to share this Icelandic tradition: Jolabokaflod, “a Christmas Book Flood.” The idea is to gift books on Christmas Eve so the evening can be spent reading and drinking hot chocolate. Now that’s my kind of tradition! The only thing to make it better… the gifting of banned books!

Wishing you a restful break, a Merry Christmas, and perhaps an enjoyable Jolabokaflod!

This morning I was working to return the typeset version of my manuscript to my editor so the book can go to print … soon! As I was reading, one of the quotations looked incorrect but I didn’t have the book with me to check. I sent an email to the local library for our teachers’ association asking if someone was willing to call or email me about the source. 40 minutes later, I received the scanned page of the book so I could check what I needed.

As Sarah McIntyre once said, “A trained librarian is a powerful search engine with a heart.” It’s true! So true.

I love librarians!

This is an interesting time of year to use “I wish…” as a freewriting prompt. Engage your class in this freewrite based on your regular routine and without a lot of talk beforehand.

Later that day (or even the next day), read students a book such as Those Shoes by Maribeth Boelts, Last Stop on Market Street by Matt de la Pena, Each Kindness by Jacqueline Woodson, or The Big Umbrella by Amy June Bates and Juniper Bates. After reading, and again without discussion, freewrite with students using the prompt “I wish…” once more.

After writing, ask students to read the second freewrite to themselves, and then reread the first. Invite them to make observations about their two freewrites. Ask, “Was there a difference in content even though the prompt was the same? Why might this be?”

This activity is a reminder of how reading the words of others can affect us. After reading the book, we were likely thinking about its content, considering another point of view, and making connections to our own lives. After all, “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” Malorie Blackman

Kids are kids. When we want them to listen, they sometimes seem distracted. And yet, when we’re talking to others, they seem to hear every word. It’s true in our homes. It’s true in our classrooms.

But what is it they are hearing? Words of encouragement and an appreciation of effort can be motivating for students. On the other hand, an overheard comment about presumed ability can be deflating. I’ve seen it happen. When a teacher doesn’t believe that a student is capable–and voices this within earshot of the student–the results are devastating. These comments often lead to a lack of effort: “I can’t do it? Well then, why try?”

We should always assume our students are listening. So what is it that we want them to hear?

It’s certainly not about misleading comments or false praise. It’s about using words to lift students and inspire them to be their best. Your words matter!

Last week I finished another writing residency. When I walked into the school the first time a few weeks ago, I immediately felt a sense of community.

Students are invited to share and participate in cultural traditions. They attend dedicated Cree classes and are encouraged to practice recently learned words during morning broadcast. Also on broadcast: the teaching of sign language. Everyone is learning sign language to communicate with a student with a hearing impairment.

Noam Chomsky once said, “A language is not just words. It’s a culture, a tradition, a unification of a community, a whole history that creates what a community is. It’s all embodied in a language.”

Language can be the instrument by which community is strengthened and individuals are valued: no matter who you are, no matter your role. And when we find ourselves surrounded by community, we are all stronger.