A Colt Named Carl

I spotted him across the aisles of baskets of ferns and Christmas garland. There was something distinct about this colt. Maybe it was the crayon scribbles across his saddle or the way he leaned precariously to one side or the missing strands of yarn from his mane.

All the same, I left my local Goodwill with a Clue game and a Star Wars puzzle (which I discovered later was missing an edge and two pieces from the Death Star), justifiably for my classroom, but not with the lopsided horse.


Maybe it was predestined, but I left my wallet on the counter and a spunky, auburn-haired girl wearing a badge named Nan was waving it in the air just as I re-entered the store.

I thanked Nan and then the words every bargain shopper this side of the Mississippi can't resist blared over the intercom, "For the next hour all orange tagged items are half off."

There was no turning back. I grabbed my wallet and was caught up in a stampede of other bargain shoppers in the direction of "orange tagged" items. It didn't matter if the orange tagged item was a set of golf clubs, ubiquitous painting of snow-covered mountains, mismatched set of holiday dishes, or a personalized cookie jar, for that matter.

The sheer rush of adrenaline that coursed thru my veins created a borderline hoarder mentality which is the reason seasoned thrift shoppers like myself must be careful and ask, "Do I really need this item? or Do I want it because it has an orange tag and I don't want anyone else to have it?"

Which is exactly why I ended up carrying an over-sized, over-stuffed, pony which  I purchased for a whopping $3.50. I didn't need it and I didn't want the lady wearing the gray sweater to have it.

As with most teachers, our car's interior holds numerous ungraded papers, at least two umbrellas, a crumpled fast food wrapper or two, stapled notes from last summer's professional development we swear we are going to file or scan (depending upon our technology comfort level), and at least 45 cents (most likely made up of dimes, nickels, and pennies) just out of reach between the driver's seat and console.

A few crumpled wrappers I could live with but not a stuffed animal the size you might win at a carnival. And so it was that a Colt named Carl made its way into my literacy classroom. What happened in my classroom in the years that followed, is undeniable.

Since finding his way into my classroom, I've witnessed a reluctant 8th grader who would rather play Call of Duty than eat or breathe, choose Carl as a reading backrest and lose himself in a book. I've seen a stressed out eleven-year-old whose parents were going thru a divorce, relax while fidgeting with the yarn on his mane. I've even heard kids called "dibs" on him; which is the highest honor when it comes to pre-teens' territorial nature.

And so I've developed a theory about comfort objects like stuffed animals and middle schoolers. I believe there is still a child-heart in these learners in spite of how cool and worldly they try to act. Eleven and twelve year olds are in an awkward phase of life. They're too old to play with dolls and robots, build blanket forts at birthday parties, or wear capes and pretend to be Spiderman. On the flip side, they have a whole life ahead of them to lose sleep over whether or not a Senate house bill will pass or the collapse of civilization as we know it.

I believe that the middle school years should be a right of passage, if you will. It's the period when kids can secretly believe that Santa climbed down their chimney in the wee hours of the night and that there is still a chance they will one day be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's a window of time when they can hold on to the magic of their childhood while building skills to survive high school.

Carl has taught me the importance of designing a learning environment that feels safe and taking risks are encouraged. As the years go by, I have had high school learners come back to say "hi" to Carl. I've even heard of kids posting "selfies" on Instagram with none other than Carl himself.

I don't pretend to understand how or why this odd purchase made such a difference in the culture of my classroom. Sometimes magic just happens.

(Author's note: Carl received his official name and became known as my class mascot before I was aware this had happened. Word just spread somehow. This group of 6th graders in my Flex class actually threw him a birthday party. Obviously, I was the only one who didn't know it was his birthday).

Click here to learn more! How important is building a positive learning environment?'


Confession Reflection:

• What are some characteristics of a positive learning environment?
• Research shows that optimum learning happens in a safe environment. What does this mean?
• How can teacher entitlement (my room, my rules) be a barrier to building a culture of learning?
• Do you agree or disagree with this statement? Learners should have a voice in designing their learning space.

The Butterfly Effect

I confess that it's sometimes hard to see the big picture. It's easy to lose sight when things go awry, especially on days when everything seems to go wrong.  So it was on Tuesday, April 13th, near the end of my 6th period class.

It started in an unnamed teacher's room. Because she had left a box of Cheezits half-open over the

weekend, a mommy mouse had discovered the box and had decided it was the perfect place to build a cozy nest for her babies. When the unnamed teacher walked in on Monday morning, you could hear her screams reverberate in every nick and cranny of our two story building.

Within minutes the assistant principal who oversees school safety procedures had procured animal control to capture the potentially disease stricken rodent(s).

Of course, mommy mouse, sensing danger, had found an escape route for herself and her babies, and was now somewhere between a bookcase and unforeseen hole hidden behind a file cabinet along the back wall. Traps were set Monday evening in several rooms in hopes of capturing the family of mice.

Although they "say" the mice had been disposed of, rumors of a school-wide cover-up spread like wildfire that the mice had, indeed, not been captured and there were likely breeding as we spoke. A nervous undercurrent could be felt throughout the campus. Where there was one mouse, there were many, many more. However, the staff was advised to not discuss the "incident" and if the subject arose, we were told to say the mice had been caught.

Which brings me back to my story.

Tuesday, during 6th period Social Skills class, Jason, (not his real name), seized the opportunity to say that he felt certain we were going to all get the Black Plague. It was mean, but not unexpected from a student who had ED (emotional disturbance). Katy, (not her real name), had been identified as a student with ASD (autism spectrum disorder). Upon hearing Jason's comments, took him at face-value, and began to freak out. Of course, the more she yelled and told him to shut up the more dramatic he became.

As with any special education teacher, we have to prioritize when pandemonium threatens to break out. Before sending Jason to the office, I had to calm Katy down by assuring her the mouse had been disposed of which made her even more hysterical. (Unbeknownst to me, Katy had become an animal right's advocate over the weekend to the point of turning Vegan).

Katy screamed bloody murder and threw a box of Kleenex across the room. The corner of the Kleenex box hit Sheldon, (not his real name), directly on a scar on the back of his head from brain surgery and now required immediate attention and a call home from the school nurse to document. Sheldon now topped the list of priorities.

While distracting Katy and trying to get Sheldon to the nurse, I kept telling John, (not his real name), he had to wait even though he said he had to go "really bad!"

Coppell ISD Curriculum Writing Team

Seventh period I got a call from Coach Roberts, (not his real name), saying that he needed help ASAP as John had decided to drop his pants while running track to relieve himself on the grass. When asked why on earth he didn't ask the coach to go to the boy's restroom he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, that his dad had told him at a recent camping trip if you have to go and can't hold it, "it's okay to pee outside."

The events of that horrible day, have resulted in an unexpected path which I am certain I wouldn't have taken if it hadn't been for the box of Cheezits and a pregnant mouse.

You see, after that incident, I applied to become a curriculum writer and coach for 8th graders for a pilot program to help middle school students transition to the high school. Since all students involved in the mouse incident were 8th graders, I wanted to be part of a team to help prepare and ensure that my students were ready for much bigger events like understanding social language and how to make new friends.
 

As a result of working the Summer Academy, I decided to get a masters in educational leadership. As a result of getting a masters, I became an instructional literacy coach. As an instructional literacy coach, I am able to follow my passion of encouraging educators and to help them find innovative ways to integrate literacy into all content areas. It's what I believe. It's what I love.

Check out this link!
The Butterfly Effect  by Andy Andrews

 

Confession Reflection:

• Have you ever experienced the Butterfly Effect? How did it shape who you are today?
• How can we create butterfly flutters in the students and staff we lead? How can we help open doors of opportunity to inspire and help them grow to their potential?
• Why is it important to live a life of positivity and think beyond ourselves?
• How can the decisions we make today bring positive changes in the future?

 





How to Bully Proof Your Campus

Whether it's on the playground, in the locker room, or discreetly right under your nose, bullying happens every moment of everyday in our schools.

Here are 5 things you can do to decrease the odds of it happening on your campus.

1) Know the players. Looks can be deceiving!

Bullies are sneaky to say the least. In fact, one of your beloved darlings who makes straight A's and gives you Starbucks gift cards for Christmas, may very well be picking on one of your not-so-beloved students. One of the best ways to spot a bully is to catch them off guard. The cafeteria lunch line or when students are in line at recess are breeding grounds for bullies to emerge. Who cuts in line (bully)? Who typically sits alone pretending to read (victim)? Who is picked last when choosing "teams?" Instigators are highly manipulative and sneaky!

Watch!  The triple dog dare! Scene from The Christmas Story

2) Get the whole story.

 Before jumping to conclusions, stop and meet with involved parties separately. This may need to happen in an administrator's office depending on the severity. Nonetheless, before picking up the phone to call home and basically ruining the student's entire holiday, listen to all parties involved before writing the student up. This isn't to say there shouldn't be consequences for saying an inappropriate word or fighting in the boys' locker room, but there may be more to the story. Warning: document, document, document! Having the student write down in his/her own words will protect yourself and your campus administration from future headaches.



3) Don't be an enabler.

Just because you need a smaller student to play the sheep in your Christmas pageant doesn't mean you use the smallest student. Why make the bully's job any easier? Students who are typically bullied are targets for a reason. Maybe they haven't hit a growth spurt and are small for their age. They may be super-intelligent and would rather talk about computer coding or fossils over computer games. Ask a student privately before assigning them to a task.



4) Be approachable. You may appear 15 feet tall to a young child  who is in first grade.

As goofy as it may sound, practice your facial expressions in the mirror.

Find a way to diminish scowls and creased foreheads in exchange for a less scary look. It is one thing to show disapproval, it is another thing to scar a small child for life! Perspective is everything!

5) Teach students to self-advocate!

There's a fine line between tattle-telling and self-advocating. Students who learn to stick up for themselves and express their needs are less likely to fall victim to bullies. When a student self-advocates they are empowering themselves. Whining and crying are weak ways to express needs and may look like tattle-telling. Our job as teachers is to teach them the difference.

Comfort and console, but then role play to model how to self-advocate. Teach students to say, "I need to be able to stand in line without others cutting in front of me," versus (student crying) "So-and-so cut in line!" It is our job to set students up for success by ensuring them that their voice matters. Yes, it's a full time job and may not be a part of our state standards, but in the long-run this may be the one skill that gets them through life in one piece!

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Lost in Translation

 

As with most adventures in life, things don't always go as planned. It was 2007, light years away from Angry Birds, Iphones, and instagram.
Class projects relied on the good ol' #2 pencil, glue stick, colored pencils, crayons, scissors, and a trusty ruler. I was a week away from spending a romantic springbreak get-a-way with my
husband touring the city of love and lights; Paris, France. But as with all teachers, it is in our DNA to carry our students in our hearts, even on vacation.

I was walking the aisles of Hobby Lobby when a miniature passport with the Eiffel Tower on the cover caught my eye. Wa-La! The Flat Stanley project was scheduled to launch. It would be the crème de la crème of literacy ventures. I would take a class-made Flat Stanley to Paris, snap photos, and return ready to translate the photos into a journal starring our very own Flat Stanley.

 



By the way, Flat Stanley is a fictional storybook character created in 1964 by Jeff Brown. He was an ordinary boy until a bulletin board fell on him during the night flattening him. The book series has Stanley capturing burglars and retrieving keys from storm drains; feats of heroism attainable because of his flatness.

Unless Mr. Brown had a time machine, there is no way that he could've imagined the magnitude in which his loveable character has impacted literacy projects around the world.

 Before internet gizmos and gadgets, hash tags, and Avatars, Flat Stanley was a simple paper cut-out, shaped like a boy with reddish-brown hair, fair skin, and rosy cheeks. He traveled via the United States postal service or was physically carried by a kind and willing soul, or he stayed put. Thankfully, there are more options today!



As fate would have it, the day my literacy class was scheduled to discuss our global project, I bit down on a cherry jolly rancher and cracked my back molar. I went to the dentist and was told I needed a root canal. I scrambled sub plans and wrote detailed notes on Flat Stanley literacy circles, mapping out his adventures to famous landmarks, and of course, using paper templates of Flat Stanley.

When I returned on Thursday, teachers would vote anonymously on which Stanley would go. It was a lot to ask from a substitute, but visions of the project trumped any common sense.

Dreams of French pastries and desserts kept me strong through the ordeal, and I was confident the Flat Stanley project would prevail. I would not...could not...let a jolly rancher take me and our class project down. 

The swelling was worse than expected and  a dry socket would keep me out until Friday...the last day before spring break. I emailed my substitute who assured me the students were "highly engaged" and the students' characters were "coming along nicely."
I returned to school to find a plethora of paper creations lining the walls, only none of them looked like Flat Stanley.  I opened my book bag and a lump formed in my throat. The crispy white sheets of Flat Stanley templates, were tucked neatly inside my school tote bag, along with my project plans. 

I looked around the room. There was a Harry Potter look-alike (scar and all), a transformer, a Justin Bieber, and even a Pegasus. I wanted to cry. What have they done? I cursed the jolly rancher. In the absence of templates and lesson plans, the students didn't know that they were creating a Flat Stanley replica that would actually go to France.

My substitute wasn't to blame either. I had forgotten to take the templates out and half of the plans were paper clipped to the copies. She only knew to read books and have students create a character using their imagination. It was the best I could've expected, really, given the circumstances.

I confess that I blamed the jolly rancher for years for the project gone bust. But there was a bright spot in the Flat Stanley Fiasco, as I called it for years. His character was unmistakable. Except for the rosy colored cheeks and Flat Stanley clothes, it was Kenny to a tee.

 He had also designed a passport with a hand-drawn Eagle on the cover with black marker. I pulled him aside, "You did a wonderful job drawing your character. What is his name?" (I excepted for him to say his name). "Mrs. Dollar! He already has a name...Flat Stanley!"

After class, I quietly asked Kenny if he'd like for me to take his Flat Stanley and he answered, "Duh!

That's why I made a passport!"

I confess that I wanted to create an authentic Flat Stanley, the one Mr. Brown would be proud of (or so I thought), but my teacher inner voice screamed no! I guess you could say it's one of the moments when, as a teacher, I had to let go of preconceived notions, my ideal lesson, the crème de la  crème project.. and go with the heart.

 

Confession Reflection:

• Has there ever been a project/lesson that didn't go the way you planned? What did you learn from the experience?

• Can you think of a teacher who affirmed you in some way? Did the experience shape how you relate to your students?

• How can administrators nurture a climate that affirms risk-taking and celebrates "jolly rancher" moments?

 

 

 

 

 

 

How I Found My Genius!





Miss Margaret Romper Room

It was the cornucopia of childhood moments. Plastered to the black and white television screen along with children everywhere, I waited with baited breath for Miss Margaret’s daily epilogue. It was Romper Room. The year was 1969. The stage was my living room, gold shag carpet and an untouched peanut-butter-jelly sandwich within reach.

 

Miss Margaret raised her magic mirror and blazingly looked through the screen. Would today be the day she saw me? One could never tell. It had been days, weeks, no months since I’d mailed my fan letter with a Polaroid of the marshmallow castle meticulously put together with marshmallows, toothpicks, and crushed potato chips.

Yes, I could feel it. Today was my lucky day.

 

“I see Bobby, Susan, Johnny….” I held my breath.



Just as I thought the final name had been called, she said, “And I see, Tamra.”

 

I'm sure my mom eventually calmed me down after days of dancing and jumping up and down during Romper Room. Nothing after age seven could possibly bring more contentment and reassurance as the day Miss Margaret said my name. Whether I realized it or not, the day Miss Margaret said my name was the day I learned my life had significance. I was noticed. I mattered.

 

There is a new movement sweeping Twitterville and schools across the world called, “Genius Hour.” Fueled by the inspiration and voice of Angela Maiers who, I am convinced, is the Miss Margaret to this generation of children who desperately need to hear the words, "you matter.”

They need to hear their name.

 But unlike Miss Margaret, there is no magic mirror, or final episode, because Angela is carrying her message of hope and inspiration to the heart of educators who then, in turn, can take this message onto their campuses and into the classrooms.

 Can you imagine what kind of revolution could start if this generation begins to believe that they have something to give, that the world is better off because they are here? Think about that one student who seems withdrawn, who has bags under their eyes from lack of sleep, and they’re only ten? Think about the trouble maker who fails to turn in assignments and they are dubbed a failure, a goof, in middle school? What if something happened to change them? A kind word or a hug to add sparkle and life to the ten-year-old? Forgiving a slew of zeros and patiently re-teaching a student until they "get it?" 

 I confess that I have been relying on the razzle-dazzle message of a demi-god educational guru or the growth mindset of a handful of high-powered administrators to change our educational system. But what if the change doesn't begin with policy and procedures, or a new grading system? What if change begins on a much simpler note? What if it is as easy as saying a child's name?

Please check out the following link:  Angela Maiers on You Matter!

Confession Reflection:

1. What are the benefits of scheduled time within the school day for students to investigate and explore their own interests?

2. How can educators break the pattern of failure in students especially at the secondary level? i.e. alternative graduation plans, career readiness training, flexible grading policies.

3. Why is it important to build relationships with students beyond the classroom?\

 

 

Creating Global Citizens in a Digital Age

A few years ago I volunteered to mentor a student club, America 4 Africa, or A4A for short. I wish that I could say that this was because I was passionate about raising money for mosquito bed nets, but I confess that I signed up as a way to clock hours during my graduate school internship.

The following year, I signed up again but this time it was because I was asked by students. If it weren't for the fact that they reminded me that every 30 seconds a child dies from malaria and the other teacher sponsor was in dire need of help, I would have opted out. But something tugged at my heart. Maybe it was guilt. Whatever the reason, I lasted a second year.

By the 3rd year, my graduate studies behind me, I continued to sponsor A4A but with a change of heart. Since our campus had moved to a digital model, stacks of notebook paper and other supplies had built up in supply closets throughout our campus. As a service learning project, our A4A kids decided that they wanted to send school supplies to a middle school in Kenya. And the project took off!

Our Coppell Middle School North teachers ran with it! Notebook paper, pencils, rulers, markers, construction paper and about every other imaginable school supply landed in a trunk. One of our parents went twice a year to Kenya and volunteered to take the trunk with her. The students took donations to raise the $50 needed to send the trunk overseas.

As part of this mission, America 4 Africa, set up a facebook account. We marveled how students who didn't have money for a pencil were able to be on facebook until we learned that internet cafes dotted the continent of Africa. Students, rich and poor, were able to go online!

Months past, and our efforts were rewarded. One of our A4A students was monitoring our facebook when he yelled, "Mrs. Dollar...they told us thank you!"

I bolted to the computer and what I saw made my mouth drop open and my heart race! On the screen, seemingly bigger than life were five students holding up construction paper we sent with the words: Thank You America 4 Africa drawn with colorful markers. Their faces spoke volumes!

As the new  year begins, I am thrilled to continue being an A4A sponsor, but not out of a sense of obligation but because I have seen with my own eyes how a simple act of kindness can impact the world.

Confession Reflection:

•  What are the benefits of teaching global citizenship to our students?
• Why is it important to empower students to find ways to help others?
• How does service learning build the capacity for showing empathy in students?

SpongeBob SquarePants to the Rescue!

 It’s a teacher’s worst nightmare.

 

I'm standing outside the Pearly Gates only to be confronted by angry parents of a student I once taught! And I think to myself...SpongeBob...he ruined me!

I was a first-year special education teacher hired to teach reading and social skills. As a case manager, I had to know as much about the law, as I did teaching. The newest law on the books was Indicator 13 which translated to mean: when a student turned 13 it is the district’s responsibility to begin the transition process to prepare them for life after graduation.

Well, Casey (not his real name) had just celebrated his 13^th birthday. He had been diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer and was terminally ill. But as most parents do, they had chosen to fight. A new bout of chemo treatments had caused his brown hair to fall out in patches and had weakened his arms and legs and he had begun using a wheelchair.

 

(While he did qualify for HomeBound services, it was decided that the social benefits of being in school outweighed what he would be able to learn one-on-one with a teacher who came to his house).

 

Some days it was all he could do to stay awake during school. It felt almost cruel asking him Indicator 13 questions about the future and what he saw himself doing one day. But it was my job to complete the paperwork: dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s (or so I thought).

Much to my surprise, Casey seemed to like the idea of answering questions about his future and interests like whether or not he would like to go to college or a vocational school. I learned that he made a mean grilled cheese sandwich, and I also learned that his best friend was SpongeBob SquarePants. He said it with all the sincerity in the world, even after rephrasing my question about who was someone he looked up to, Casey didn’t waiver. Not only did he know SpongeBob...they were “best friends.”

In case you don’t have a child or a student who watches Nickelodeon, Spongebob SquarePants is a cartoon sponge, with eyes, nose, mouth, arms and legs who goes on adventures with other “likeable" characters under that sea. He eats crabby patties and has his own movie. But he is not real. I knew it. Every other middle school student knew it. Everyone….except for Casey.

Visions of Casey going to his Science inclusion class the next period telling his classmates that SpongeBob was his best friend, made my stomach turn. Middle school students can be cruel (to say the least); even to kids with cancer.

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 So I did what I thought was best for my student. I made the decision to cut off any future jokes by telling him the truth. “Casey, the students in our class are real, your neighbors are real, your parents and brothers are real, but Spongebob SquarePants is a cartoon. He isn’t real.”

 It was one of those moments you would do anything if you could take back your words. But it was too late. Had I known the back story that his family had been flown to the Island in Hawaii by the Make-a-Wish Foundation, and that he did, in fact, meet SpongeBob and even had a luau complete with all of his favorite characters, I would have known to have kept my mouth shut!

All I knew was that I had made a BIG mistake!

His lower lip began to quiver and tears welled up in his eyes. “Mrs. Dollar, he is real! I met him on my summer vacation!”

 At our parent conference the following morning, which included the principal and counselor, I told the story. His dad confessed to writing personalized “letters from SpongeBob” to hide under his pillow if he’d made a good grade at school. They even cooked “crabby patties” (which is a SpongeBob hamburger) on the weekends. They had planned on sharing this information with his teachers, but felt shame for feeding his fantasy.

They were ordinary people who had been dealt a bad hand. If believing in SpongeBob gave their son joy and helped him believe in miracles…then so be it. Suddenly, all the Indicator 13 paperwork and transitional files took a backseat to the hopes and dreams of a boy who had, in many ways, been rescued by SpongeBob SquarePants!

 That very day, we all agreed it was in Casey’s best interest for me to encourage more conversation. I spent our student/teacher conferences listening to letters he had written and received from SpongeBob. He talked about wanting to fly airplanes so we researched aviation schools and he delved into learning about how airplanes are built and how to fly them. I was invited over for "crabby patties" and Casey even promised to introduce me to his best friend in the world!. That is, as soon as he learned to fly!

 

Confession Reflection:

• How would this situation have been different if there had been better communication between school, parents, doctors, community?
• Are there "exceptions to the rule" in cases of terminally ill students?
• What can schools/districts provide more socialization for Homebound students?