I recently heard a comment that infuriated me: a flippant remark about the perceived realities in our classrooms implying that everyone has low and manageable class sizes.

Sometimes numbers don’t mean much. 25 students in one class is not the same as 25 students in another. The needs, challenges, and behaviour of the individuals within a classroom certainly change the dynamics.

Regardless of your class size, wouldn’t you like to invite a politician into your class? Not just for a short visit but to hand over the curriculum and watch them teach your students for a few days… considering the needs of each individual student, managing student behaviour, planning engaging instructional tasks, preparing materials, assessing and ensuring student understanding, communicating with parents, responding to the social, emotional, and physical needs of students the whole day through. And then, just when they think they’ve survived the day, remind them to spend their evenings and weekends preparing for the implementation of three new subject area curricula (first understanding it, and then planning, finding resources, and developing assessments).

I wonder… how long would it be before they decided to postpone the implementation of the draft curriculum?

When comments are made about teaching and teachers without an understanding of the realities of our work, I get a tad defensive. I certainly wouldn’t want to be a politician and I don’t think I’d be very good at it either. But, don’t take a swipe at teachers. Teachers are amazing and they often juggle much more than seems plausible.

For many of you reading this, Spring Break is almost here. And when it arrives, be sure to take some time away from the classroom and away from your work. You deserve every moment of down time.

I’m in the middle of a writing residency. The other day, one of the teachers asked if she could speak to me after school.

She showed me the writing of a few of her students and asked, “How can I push these writers?” This was the work of her strongest writers. She recognized their strengths and wanted to challenge them.

We talked through what I noticed and what could be a logical next step. Her plan now is to meet with these writers as a small group: to teach a mini-lesson using some mentor texts and then challenge them to practice and apply what they learn.

My heart smiled at her question. Typically I’m asked about those who struggle with writing. But let’s not forget to push those who have a natural aptitude or gift. They too deserve our time!

As I was planning for my upcoming residency with students from K-6, I was reminded of the importance of including all strands of language arts–listening, speaking, reading, writing, viewing, and representing–within our lessons. In many ways, I can’t teach one without another.

These strands support each other… they build off of each other… one is often the foundation for another. Ultimately, the interconnectedness of these strands is essential for student success with language.

When I consider the new Alberta ELA curriculum scheduled to be implemented this coming fall, it is divided into Organizing Ideas which seems to imply the teaching of language in silos. We cannot be deceived by the structure of the curriculum and revert to teaching these elements in isolation from one another. Doing so would be in direct opposition to what we know about effective language learning.

Although I have given feedback to the government about my concerns about the curriculum structure, I don’t expect this aspect of it to change. That being said then, we must remember the importance of the interconnectedness of the strands when we tackle that new curriculum. I look forward to working with teachers in the process!

We are nearing the end of convention season in Alberta. Over the last month, I have had the opportunity to connect with teachers from around the province.

My conclusion from this convention season: teachers are amazing! Despite being fatigued from this second pandemic year, I see and hear invigorated teachers inspired to return to their classrooms to share their learning with students.

Our students always need teachers, of course. But they need us now more than ever. And motivated, inspired teachers? Well, those are the best kind!

Thank you for continuing to learn and hone your practice. Thank you for sharing your own growth mindset with your students. And thank you for leading your students on their learning journeys with both enthusiasm and joy!

During a recent writing residency, a student suddenly exclaimed: “A novel is like a movie mushed into a book!” I smiled, discreetly jotted down his words, and then asked what he meant.

I don’t remember his answer word for word, but it led to an interesting conversation about genre. Movies, after all, are a form of text. Students often think of text as print and only print. But really, the definition of text is much broader.

One of the things I love about genre comparisons with students – especially diverse genres such as movies and novels – is that the conversations quite naturally turn to craft: the decisions made by the writers and creators of whatever genres we are discussing.

Discussions about craft are important. When students learn that writers make deliberate decisions about their writing, we can empower our students to make decisions about their own writing, too. My favourite question when teaching writing: “Do you think the author did this on purpose?” Yes! “Now let’s explore why…”

And if a student happens to exclaim a thought or realization they’ve made (like the student in my residency), take the time to explore their thinking. You may be surprised where the conversation leads!

During February we often read books about love and kindness with our students. These are some of my favourites: Love by Matt de la Pena, My Heart by Corinna Luyken, What is Given from the Heart by Patricia C. McKissack, and Each Kindness by Jacqueline Woodson. This week, after you read one of your favourites, put on some music and ask students to freewrite to someone.

Instead of the regular type of prompt, use “Dear ______,” and then “I want to tell you…” or “Did you know…?” Remind students that they do not have to share this writing (with the person they are writing to or with you) unless they choose.

Reading the book beforehand, and with music playing, you may find that your writing and that of your students, is a little more raw than usual. Let it be. Go where it leads…

And if you and your students choose to share, appreciate the beauty of the feelings in the room.

Earlier this week I set up a new email address to connect to this website. Easy right? I thought so. I confidently moved through the first few steps and then suddenly I was confronted with language I did not understand. Was it English? It was. But the technical terminology was completely foreign to me. I felt both frustrated and overwhelmed as I attempted to decipher the instructions. Ultimately, I couldn’t complete the next steps because I didn’t understand what I was being asked to do. (Thankfully I knew who to call…)

The experience made me think of the students in our classrooms who don’t understand the written or spoken words we are using. They too must feel frustrated and overwhelmed.

How can we ensure that our words are being understood by all? Which students might need more explanation of the tasks at hand? What scaffolds and supports do we have in place to prevent frustration and ensure understanding?

Remember, fair isn’t everyone getting the same thing… fair is everyone getting what they need.

Our dog is almost seventeen. He is now completely deaf and his sight has deteriorated significantly. As with most dogs, he likes being with his humans. If we’re in the living room (the kitchen, the bedroom), so is he. If one of us happens to be in another room though, he will always check in. Sometimes he splits his time between us, but regardless, he checks in periodically.

He reminds me of the importance of checking in with our students. To get a general sense of how they are doing, class discussions can be effective especially after a read-aloud such as Today I Feel by Madalena Moniz, In My Heart by Jo Witek, I Am Human or I Am Courage by Susan Verdi.

There are often students who need a more personal check in, too: questions within their journals, private conversations, or perhaps surprise notes in their desks.

The gesture of checking in can lift moods, provide encouragement, and offer hope. Sometimes a kind word is everything…

I have been facing a difficult choice. Do I give up my contract with a school district where I’ve spent all of my career as a student and most of my career as a teacher? Do I give up the financial security, the comfort in what I know, the people I love working with, so I can work with teachers and students throughout the province and also pursue my writing career?

For months I’ve been considering the pros and cons. Then, not long ago, I listened to Seasons of Love from Rent. You know the one. “525 600 minutes: how do you measure a year? …in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife…”

For whatever reason, hearing that song when I did confirmed my decision. 525 600 minutes. How is it that I want to spend that time? I know the answer.

I could measure what’s to come in numbers of a different sort: income. And yet, I know that those numbers are not the most important ones. Not for me anyway.

If I want to pursue this dream, if I want to fulfill my purpose, now is the time. No more minutes to waste.

On my desk, I have a fortune from a fortune cookie of many years ago: “Your most important work is yet to come.” I want to do what I love. I want to share what I love. I want to do my most important work.

So, my decision is made. I have resigned.

A friend of mine sent me this video saying that it reminded her of me… she might have a point!

I spent the week with hundreds of young writers from kindergarten to grade nine. One of the things I love about my job is that students are so eager. They don’t know me and yet many of them are willing to voice their thinking and share their writing. I am humbled by their openness, sincerity, and enthusiasm.

But you know, I think their teachers are to thank for that.

To all of you — I am grateful. Thank you for taking the time to establish a climate of trust. Thank you for honouring the individual personalities and dispositions in your classroom. Thank you for forging connections especially with those who need it most. Thank you for being stability and security in their young lives. Thank you for getting up each day ready to give of yourselves.

Teaching is hard work. I know. But don’t forget… I appreciate you and so do your students.