Based off of John Hattie’s Eight Mind Frames

If I were to tell you that I don’t want to talk about teaching anymore, how would you react? What would you say? I’m sure half of your jaws would drop and some of you may even say ‘good, me too’.

As educators we eat, sleep and breathe teaching. We talk about best practices, new technology tools and updated state mandates. Society always mocks the education system as being the “easy occupation” because we get summer vacation. We all chuckle because deep down inside we know that summer doesn’t really exist.

There is ALWAYS teacher talk. We are aware of the new state mandates, we implement the best practices in our classroom, and we strive to create 21^st century learners with new technology.

I’m tired of teacher talk.

While teacher talk is definitely important and necessary at times—don’t get me wrong—it holds us back from discussing learning. That small, but oh so important word, that often gets overlooked in the educational dictionary.

Nowadays, students are becoming a statistic instead of a name. Students are hiding in the shadows of the textbook instead of reading between the lines. Students are training themselves to memorize the content instead of learning the content. Student passions for learning have shifted. Students do not know how to learn for the love of learning.

Therefore, I urge you to think about your classroom. How are your students learning in your classroom? What does learning look like to you? Do your students view learning differently? How can you encourage that itch for learning?

Instead of focusing our energy on teacher talk; we should focus on our impact of teaching on student learning. We should no longer focus on “what we do as teachers” and focus on “what the students are doing as learners” (p. 8).

With that being said, I leave you with a challenge for the week. Choose two students in your classroom at random. Reflect, mark, and monitor these students. How are they learning? How are they responding to your activities? What does their progress look like within the lesson?

After all, our students should be engaged at all times with authentic learning.

Students should be able to answer confidently about what they are learning or working on. They should be aware of what to do if they don’t know the answer or are stuck. They should realize when they have finished the task at hand and if that task is completed with good quality.

Enough with teacher talk; time for authentic learning talk.

Zegarac, G. (2013). Know Thy Impact: Teaching, Learning and Leading. In Conversation , IV (2), 18.

The first day of class I always tell my students to dream. Dream BIG. Anything is possible.

But…

Is it? 

Can my 5’3 middle school student make the NBA? Can my C average student get into law school? Can my student, who stays home to take care of siblings while working two jobs, even afford to leave his or her family to attend that ‘dream’ college hours away?

Some of my students have dreams, but some of my students have realities. Some students live in a fairy-tale land, whereas other students live in a dark-alley nightmare. And what about that one student—yes, her—who doesn’t even dare to dream?

With a generation that fears failure, how do we, as educators, keep our students’ dreams alive? How do we even teach our students to dream?

It’s simple.

We ground our students in their reality, yet push them towards their goal.

We feel their pain in disappointment, yet put a smile back on their face.

We scream with them at their frustrations, yet laugh with them through humiliation.

We preach that failure is not an option; but rather, a learning opportunity, a stepping stone, a detour.

Fail f o r w a r d.

Tommorow, ask your students about their dreams and watch their reactions. Ground those daydreamers and make dreamers out of the non-believers.

Become a dreamer.

And,

Dream on…

Just open your eyes and see.

When I was in the third grade, my grandmother urged me to participate in my elementary art show titled “Just Open Your Eyes and See…”. My art skills to this day still consist of stick figures and fundamental shapes, but that was not my grandmother’s purpose. Secretly, she was asking me to open my eyes and see. With that project, my grandmother, a retired teacher herself, taught me about life. She opened my eyes to the world in which we live. We reminisced about family members and discussed my future aspirations. We traced the memories and fantasized my dreams. It was, at this time, that my grandmother helped me to genuinely see my world.

As my world developed, however, my grandmother was no longer around to open my eyes, so I had to open my own eyes. Yet, instead of imagining happy dreams and heartfelt memories, I was living in a harsh reality. I witnessed divorce, death and failure. My third grade fairy tale seemed to quickly fade to a misty-eyed reality.

Blink.

Blink. Fight back those tears.

Blinking for me was my childhood escape from reality.

Blink.

Open your eyes.  I heard my grandmother’s voice in the image of another. She stood about 5’5” in her fragile, delicate body. She wore bright red lipstick that released morning coffee breath every time she spoke. She engaged, and challenged me beyond frustration. Dr. Barbara Buedel, my Spanish professor, kept my eyes from blinking—from escaping. She opened my eyes to a culturally diverse world, challenging me to the brink of blinking, but never letting me escape. With one simple question, “When are you going to learn for the love of learning?” she revealed the true purpose of education.

      As educators, we must open our eyes and see.

On our worst days, do we blink at a classroom full of clutter and stacks of ungraded tests? Do we see fragile students in fear of failure? Do we tirelessly blink at an empty lesson plan and a blank computer screen? Blink. Escape. Now, open our eyes and see.

In our proudest moments, we see classrooms filled with laughter, discoveries and ‘ah-ha’ moments. We see delicate students eager to learn for the love of learning. We see unfinished lesson plans crumbled on the floor, as we try again and again to script our ultimate masterpiece. Open our eyes. Open them wider. See the light.

Unfortunately in education, there are moments where we could blink from reality over and over. We want to deny those moments of helplessness. When chaos breaks loose in our classrooms or students begin to give up on themselves, we want to hide. Yet, we resist that blink when eager students continually ask questions and connect the dots from the classroom to reality. It is in these moments, we do not even think about escaping. The fact is that all educators will blink. We will feel helpless, at some point. Yet, blinking lasts one second. One second too long. One…

Open our eyes. Face reality.

In this 21^st century world, we have the ability to open the eyes of the 21^st century holistic learners. We have the capability to bridge the gap between students and the community by connecting our students with real-life learning opportunities. Most importantly, we can mold life-long passionate students committed to learn for the love of learning.

When my eyes are open, I see a classroom full of students with different visions of the world. Some open their eyes from poverty, while others come to us from lives of multiple opportunities. Nevertheless, I open my eyes to students who have the world at their fingertips. It is my daily challenge to open my students’ eyes to a community and an entire world with boundless opportunities.

I open my own eyes to students who challenge me daily to be the best possible teacher. I open my eyes to students whom I expect to practice 21^st century skills, to grasp challenges and to enrich themselves in real-life experiences beyond the classroom setting.

I am that teacher that encourages open eyes, with a hint of sparkle. I am that teacher that discourages a blink. What kind of teacher are you?

Open your eyes.

I dare you.

Close your eyes and imagine your favorite teacher. What qualities did he or she possess? Why was he or she your favorite teacher?

My mind immediately flashes back to my teacher Miss McLaughlin. While she may have been a family friend, she was more than that to me. She could make me laugh and smile; she made me work harder and think deeper; she even taught me life-long skills I never knew I would use today. She was my change agent, and it is because of her my passion for teaching has developed.

More than likely, your memorable teacher changed you in one way or another. That teacher was your change agent. Now, here we teach, impacting the future every day. Yet, how many of you see yourselves as change agents in your students’ lives? We may change one student or we may change a whole class.

More importantly, we have that power to change—that power to not only change ourselves but also our students for the better. John Hattie (2009) mentions that one must believe with the “mindset that we can affect change” (p. 6).  Do you reflect this mindset? He simply states that our role as a teacher is just that—to affect change.

So I challenge you to think about the students you interact with on a daily basis. How can you add that sparkle to their lives? How can you put that smile on their faces? How can you flip that switch so they experience that ah-ha moment in your classroom?

In the end, no matter the frustrations or distractions in your chaotic day, what did you do to affect change in your students? How were you a change agent in a student’s life?

Zegarac, G. (2013). Know Thy Impact: Teaching, Learning and Leading.In Conversation , IV (2), 18.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton