Placing Students at the Center of Change

She’s been a fellow of the WNY Young Writers’ Studio for three years now. Every August, she devotes a week of her life to the study of what learning communities are and how she’s grown as a result of her participation in ours. She comes back every other month throughout the school year. She visits our ning almost daily. She connects herself to those who can help her, and she reaches out to do the same. She writes about what she is learning. She publishes her discoveries. And people are paying attention.

She’s also sixteen years old.

Last year, she made perseverance a goal. She also began defining what she’s come to understand about herself and her work and the difference she might already be making. She’s becoming more than a writer. She’s becoming a teacher. She’s becoming a leader. I know this because she told me so, and this gave me great pause.

So, I asked her to share her stories with me.

“Well, I’ve learned so much about how to give and receive feedback on my writing and learning here,” she told me. “I’ve learned to advocate for myself with others, too.”

“What do you mean?” I asked with pleasant surprise.

“I mean that I asked my teacher to use the same protocols we use here in Studio,” she told me. “And that was really helpful.”

She did?

I began wondering how many other kids were taking similar steps to ask their teachers for what they needed, so I started asking a lot more questions. It turns out that this young lady wasn’t alone in her self-advocacy work or in her efforts to influence change.

I’m learning a lot about what can happen when we immerse kids in collaborative learning cultures that are guided by research-based and student-centered practices. I’ve been surprised to notice what can happen when we help young people develop a new context for what quality teaching and learning can look like. In my experience, it doesn’t take too long for them to start expecting and respectfully asking such things of their teachers.

They say that life is defined by a series of moments. Careers are as well. The conversation I detail above stopped me in my tracks. It made me realize that maybe I don’t need to work so hard to lead change. Three years ago, it dawned on me that if classrooms work best when the teacher leads quietly, perhaps facilitating shifts in school cultures could happen this way as well. I realized that I could do more than simply act on behalf of kids as a literacy coach and service provider. The time had come for me to work beside or even behind teachers as they offered young people experiences that would empower them to act in their own best interests. I wanted to pursue a different kind of leadership that would effect change in a different way at a different level within the system. I guess I didn’t think that any of this would begin happening for a very long time, though.

How rewarding it can be to simply listen.

So, while I’ve been absent from this space far too often, and while I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep up here as much as I’d like to in the new year,  I’ve uncovered some exciting pathways to pursue, and I’m finding myself consumed by all that I’m learning in my travels.   The support and services that I’m providing to schools has begun to change in response to this. Over the years, I’ve worked with administrators to design strategic plans and frameworks that leverage collegial learning and build internal leadership. The sort of staff development I’ve come to provide isn’t typically event-based. It’s long-term, job-embedded, and focused on professional learning that can be sustained. Much of this work happens inside of classrooms beside teachers and kids right here in Western New York. Studio complements that work. It provides added opportunities for learning and connection. It gives kids and teachers a place to realize how learning could happen inside of their schools and how they could be a part of making that a reality, even in the smallest way.

When I founded the WNY Young Writers’ Studio in 2008, I was eager to establish a sustainable learning community comprised of young people and educators who were eager to support one another and grow over time. I was excited to see what could happen if we created a thriving  culture that existed outside of the school system and that positioned kids as teachers and teachers as learners. While I was (and always will be) working to facilitate that kind of shift inside of schools, I didn’t want to wait on the system either. In a big way, I wanted to see if accomplishing this would influence that shift in ways that I remain unable to as a teacher, a staff developer, a coach, or a consultant.

Over the last three years, over one hundred kids and forty teachers have had many stories to tell that suggest that this may in fact be the case, and as I face the new year, I’m looking forward to seeing what we accomplish together. I’ll be sharing some of what we are learning here and in other places too. So, happy new year to those of you who have kept up with me in this space and on the ground as well. Thank you for inspiring me to work harder, for challenging me to think and plan in clearer and more innovative ways, and for helping me keep my eyes focused in this new direction. It’s going to be a great year!

Real Change

Two years ago, a writer I know showed up to one of our Studio sessions looking pretty glum. As one of the editors of her high school’s literary magazine, she was nothing short of disgusted by the behavior that some of her fellow editors were exhibiting. Having crowned themselves the school’s elite writers, they had taken it upon themselves to stand in harsh judgment of their peers, mocking the work that others submitted, and making their selections for publication in a pretty ruthless way.

At the time, she was ready to quit. Instead, she decided to advocate for change. She suggested that they adopt better protocols for looking at student work, and she even did a bit of homework to find one that worked. Some supported her. For a time, things began to function a bit better, although the change that she inspired was far less dramatic than she intended or hoped for.

This year, she’s found herself standing at the same crossroads again. Things aren’t going as well as she hoped they would, and she’s assessing her options and deciding how she might proceed. Some of her friends describe her as discouraged. She claims she’s simply resigned. I hope she doesn’t feel that she’s failed in her attempt to inspire change.

But what if she does?

Is that a bad thing?

Does this mean her effort doesn’t count?

That we can’t be inspired by her?

That she didn’t make a difference of some sort?

That her efforts were wasted?

I know that many people who are working toward change have stories like this to share, and I know that others–especially those like this young woman–might be inspired if they read those stories. Sure, they might be different from the glory-filled tales of those seasoned souls who have moved mountains to influence great big change for masses of people, but that’s okay. In a lot of ways, I think these other stories are even better, and  I wish more people were writing them, because it certainly seems like more and more people are living them. What do you know about change that looks and feels like this? What story would you share with this young woman?

On a Quest for Least Invasive Practices

Over the last few years, I’ve come to realize that my greatest duty as a teacher in any capacity is to create the conditions that enable relevant (or at the very least meaningful) and engaging learning and work. These words possess a distinct and critical meaning, too.

This conclusion led me to another important discovery:  I need to become very critical of my own practices and processes as well as those that are imposed upon me. More and more often, I’m finding myself stepping back, slowing down, and thinking very carefully about how I might coach, teach, plan, problem-solve, and even parent in the “least invasive” way possible. What does this mean?

Well, for one thing, it means that while I rely on data to drive many of the decisions I make, I must be careful not to capture that data in ways that might feel invasive to the learners I’m working with or others I am serving. For instance, photos like the one above (taken during last summer’s Studio sessions) can provide me with very meaningful information relevant to our outcomes, but I don’t have to disrupt student-centered learning in order to capture it. In fact, I’m realizing that I rarely need to be invasive in order to assess learning. I also don’t need to stand at the front of the room or direct the train. If meaning and engagement are priority number one, then those things can’t be sacrificed to the gods of assessment or data-driven instruction. We’re losing too much time to this. We’re losing too many kids. I truly believe that we can’t improve what we do not measure, but I also know that the way we measure must be improved if we’re to truly create and maintain conditions for learning.

Many years ago, I actually thought this might be an either-or proposition. I’m realizing that it isn’t though and that in fact, skilled practitioners are often quite stealthy in their approach around assessment and the collection of meaningful data.What they learn enables them to be even less invasive teachers. It empowers them to put learners and learning at the center of their work rather than themselves and their own stellar but still teacher-driven plans. This has been one of the most exciting discoveries I’ve made, as it’s provided a lot of resolution around issues that have always seemed to plague me.

Teachers and leaders who get this give me so much hope, and more and more of them seem to be.

We’re teaching in profoundly exciting times.

I’m interested: how do you teach or lead in quiet and less invasive ways?

I’d like to learn more from others who are striving to seek resolution here as well, particularly literacy coaches, teachers of writing, and those charged with leading assessment initiatives. Who can you recommend?

A Framework for Continuous School Improvement

Over the last several years, I’ve come to rely on the ARCS framework, created by Communities for Learning, for nearly all of my professional planning. I use it to establish a baseline assessment of the groups I work with, to determine entry points into our work together,  to strategically plan, and to assess the influence of our efforts over time. This framework has also transformed the shape and structure of the professional learning experiences that I facilitate, and it’s helped me think in critical ways about the difference I might make in the field. The framework is comprised of four dimensions:

  • Alignment is all about coherence. When I ask educators to define this word, they typically refer to their standards, or what’s worse–to their deficits around them. Alignment is bigger than these small things. It’s about establishing a vision for the work we will do, the people we will be, and the difference we will make. It’s about ensuring that our actions and the way we invest our time and our resources align with our vision as well as our goals.
  • Representation involves cross-role collaboration. It’s about putting those who will be influenced by our efforts at the table in meaningful ways as we plan, implement, assess, and revise our work. It’s not about filling seats, punching time cards, or asking people to jump through hoops so we can say we sought their input. It’s about opening a forum where everyone can share their thoughts, their expertise, their ideas, and their concerns. It’s about having a greater number of eyes and ears and minds and hearts involved in the work and learning. Accomplishing this is often my greatest challenge, particularly when time and resources are short.
  • Attending to Culture requires that I  think deeply about the values, dispositions, and beliefs I wish to nurture and perpetuate in the individuals I work with, in addition to practices. Whenever I’m designing a program or initiative,  I rely on this dimension of the framework to consider how my plans might influence the culture of a classroom, school, individual, or organization. What we do in our efforts to foster learning and growth often works against us when we don’t consider this essential element.
  • Planning for Sustainability challenges me to first define what it is I’m eager to sustain and then plan in strategic  ways that might accomplish this.

It’s this framework that enables me to push the “stuff” of staff development away from the center of whatever work I am facilitating and to place learning at the center. It’s removes me from that position as well.

This spring, I began using the ARCS framework to help me define better purposes as a blogger and a user of other networks.I’m still working out my answers to these questions. I’m wondering what others might be added……ideas?

There is much to consider:

  • What is my vision for the work that I will do here and the influence I hope it will have?
  • How will I define quality and what success looks like?
  • How can my blogging practices better align with this?
  • Who reads this blog most often? How can I use my stats and other data provided on my dashboard to define who that audience is and seek their input? How can I seek it from those I work with day-to-day in order to make this space more valuable to them?
  • What values and dispositions do I hope to perpetuate through my work?
  • What, if anything, am I eager to sustain here? How can I plan for this?

Considering Relevance and Meaning

“Meaning, like beauty, lies both within and outside us. The same experience might be more meaningful for some students than others because of differences in their interests, personal experiences, readiness, and existing relationship with the teacher and with what is being taught. That said, as learners, we all derive greater meaning from experiences that are engaging, relevant, and authentic.”

“Meaningfulness relates to but is not the same as relevance. It concerns the extent to which students perceive the lesson/unit as significant, even if the material learned or the skills acquired are not immediately relevant. Significant learning experiences promote depth of knowledge and skills related to a theme, problem, or issue; they require students to use what they learn to form opinions, solve problems, make decisions, or create real products or performances. The most meaningful learning experiences are authentic, requiring that students engage with real-life problems and issues for real purposes and an audience that can benefit from their work. Following are some examples of meaningful and engaging learning experiences.”

Changing the Way You Teach, Improving the Way Students Learn, Giselle Martin-Kniep and Joanne Picone-Zocchia

Is it possible for any of our teaching to have meaning if learners do not perceive it to be significant?

And if meaning is influenced by interest, readiness, personal experiences, history, and relationships, how is it possible to set purposeful learning outcomes for learners without including them in that process?

Does it really make sense to impose our interests, personal experiences, and history on learners of any age or in any position?

Is it about moving people where WE want them to go, or is it about creating cultures that nurture learning?

What’s the difference?

I’m wondering how I can better align my actions with my answers to those questions.

Bridges to Cross

We crossed this bridge in Connecticut on Sunday night, landing once again at the Trinity Conference Center for our annual retreat. This is where my year ends and begins.

What will your legacy be?

This was the question that greeted me upon arrival my very first year, and it’s the one I return to now.

I’m wrestling with some questions right now. They’ve kept me quiet here and everywhere online this summer, and this is a good thing. Sometimes, it’s hard to reflect on the stuff that matters when new information, ideas, and conversations continue to unfold all around you. It’s important for me to stop doing sometimes and take the time that is needed to simply be.

Blogging matters to me, but how I do it in this space hasn’t felt like a good fit for some time now. Connecting with other professionals matters to me too, but how I do that will probably evolve a bit as well. There are plenty of phenomenal bloggers out there who are sharing their work, their own resources, and hundreds of thousands of interesting web tools and links. I don’t think I can make much more of a contribution there. There are plenty of consultants like me who use their blog to share what they are up to out in the world, who they are meeting and learning from in their travels, and how they might be of service to those who may be compelled to hire them. That hasn’t been my greatest purpose here, either. That isn’t the sort of work that I do now or anticipate doing in the future, either. How I use this space should be aligned to my vision and my goals inasmuch as it is meaningful to an audience, right? I know how to increase subscribers, entice followers, and create killer content–I’d be doing that if I wanted to. I’ve taught others to do the same. Those guidelines work, I know. But to what end? I know I’m a bit of a “rule breaker” here, and that’s okay. My goals and purposes are a bit different than others, perhaps. I’m not sure I’m interested in extending my reach or sphere of influence via this blog, really. I’ve been fairly successful with that in other ways.

What will my legacy be? How can I use this space in ways that are better aligned to what that might be?

Here’s what I know: several years ago, I developed some hunches around what it would take to truly begin shifting school cultures. I took some substantial risks and began acting on those hunches in some pretty big ways, and a lot of good has happened. There are some compelling findings to share and respond to. I have some decisions to make and some pretty big bridges to cross. Those choices will influence outcomes and lead me and others to very different destinations with very different kinds of rewards and realities.

It’s overwhelming, considering where you hope to arrive, isn’t it?

Engaging in different learning environments online has been an education in so many ways, and I don’t want to abandon the network I’ve established here or miss out on the conversations that take place. My work has evolved substantially over the last three years though, and I haven’t had the time to capture that here. It’s compelling me to connect in different ways now, though.

I’m not interested in sharing tools or promoting programs or events here. If I’m going to be of value, I’d like it to be for different reasons.

I’m wondering:

What could I be sharing here that might matter now? What’s really worth saying? What do I want to say? What are you interested in hearing?

Learning from our Community

“If you have knowledge, let others light their candles with it.” –Winston Churchill

This is one of my favorite pictures from last week’s Studio sessions. It was just one small moment that tucked itself into a flurry of other activity, but this visual speaks volumes.

One of the interns in our program, Nate, is conferencing with two writers in our community about their vision and their goals while a local school administrator listens in.

As facilitators of learning communities, how much of visioning work is about designing and sharing our vision with others, and how much of it is about inviting others to create and share their own? Do we ground community in our own image and vision, or do the vision, work, and values of true communities emerge from them?

As leaders, what do we miss out on in our efforts to clarify our vision and share our knowledge with others?

What could we be learning?

From the Inside, Out


Photo Credit: Laura Stockman

Summer is a time unto itself. In our family, we draw deep boundaries around the months of June, July, and August. The rhythm of our life together changes, and while the pace never seems to slow, the content of our days becomes distinctly different. It’s a disruption I long for every year–one that seems to slow me down and wake me up simultaneously. Sometimes, this feels unsettling.

Over the course of the last year, I’ve been grappling with a bunch of new realities, opportunities, and shifts in my own perspectives. I’ve found myself rethinking what it means to learn and teach and lead in ways that make even the smallest difference, and much of this has given me significant pause. I’m still thinking through a bunch of this stuff.

Four years ago, I found myself compelled to step away from the podium that I was invited to stand behind most days of the week. I founded a professional learning community comprised of learners of all ages. I joined another. I began shaping a very clear vision of the work that I wanted to do and the sort of change I wanted to be a part of. This has been exciting and overwhelming work, and it’s brought me to a new place once again.

This summer, my daughter Laura has invested herself in a new project. She’s studying digital photography, learning more about creating content online, and throwing herself into an internship that allows her to share what she’s learning with others who might benefit from it. I’m learning a lot by watching her. Last month, I found myself intrigued by this picture–one of the first that she took. She’s been compelled by the influence that her perspective and position as a photographer has on the images that she captures. We’ve spent some time talking about this over the last few weeks, and I’m finding myself connecting our conversations to my own work.

On Sunday, I’ll be heading to the Communities for Learning summer retreat once again. Five days later, I’ll return to my family filled with new ideas and feeling, I know, completely wrung out. It’ll be worth it.

Whenever the topic of professional learning comes up and the topic professional learning communities in particular, we begin speaking about the importance of vision. Establishing our own. Aligning it to the work of the organizations we serve and the vision of those we call our colleagues. As I’ve learned more about professional learning communities over the years–especially as I’ve invested myself in facilitating one—I’ve realized that visioning work is perhaps the most critical work that we do. I’ve also realized that as a leader, it’s not enough for me to have a vision that I impose on others. This does little to create or sustain professionalism, community, or learning.

How I position myself within my learning communities is important. It influences my perspective. It shapes my vision.

Laura has spent the last few months taking pictures from inside the garden.

That’s where I’ve been too.

It’s changing everything.

Not sure what that means yet, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

 

Getting Back in a Blogging Groove

Wow.

I guess that certainly qualified as an extended hiatus. I don’t think I’ve ever been off the grid for quite this long, and I must admit: I really enjoyed my time off. My kids really enjoyed my time off too, I’m thinking.

That said, I’ve felt the effects of my absence here.

Blogging regularly inspires me to pay closer to attention. It challenges me to think differently and deeply about the work that I do. It requires me to consider perspectives I may not have been aware of and invites me to learn much more than I ever would if I chose to hang out alone inside this field. It seems that I discover something new and realize something important every day that I show up here.

And so I’m blowing the dust off this little space of mine and settling back in.

I have a story or two to tell from my travels and about a thousand different questions swirling around in my head, searching for a conversation to join. I’m looking forward to getting back in the groove here.

See you in the morning!

Checking In

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has been plowed over by all that is June.

This month saw the end of the 2009-2010 season of the WNY Young Writers’ Studio, highlighted by our Celebration of Writing and the publication of our first anthology (featuring 20 of this year’s 60 writers)! It’s also the end of our school year here in Western New York, which marks all sorts of endings and new beginnings. Earlier this month, I began teaching part time in the Graduate School of Education at Medaille College, which I am enjoying thoroughly–more on that another day. Last week, my youngest daughter turned ten the same day that I noticed my very first age spots. Seriously.

Summer is filled with Studio sessions, supporting new instructional coaches as they plan for their first full year on the job, facilitating several writing and teaching institutes, getting my own writing done, and watching contractors tear my roof and yard apart while I lather on the sunscreen that will prevent the darkening of the age spots.

I also need to catch up here!

Soon.