Today, we tried something new.  

Last week, students wrote a first draft of their definition essays and posted it to their blog.  

Today, they answered the following questions:
1. What are you trying to say about yourself in this essay?
2. What would you like to improve in your essay? (not spelling/grammar)
3. What questions do you have about the essay?
4. How emotionally connected are you to your topic?  Will it bother you if someone is critical?  What advice do you have for your partner when they read their essay in order to help you most?

Then they got into the computer lab and made a google doc to which both partners had access.  They chose one essay to start revising, and I showed them how to make comments and gave them some guidelines on working together.

What I saw happen:
--students were talking about the structure of the essay and how successful it was
--students giving each other advice and taking it all constructively, not as personal attack
--students enjoying the process of writing together in real time, and couldn't get over how easy it was to save and access work in google drive
--real feedback meant that students were engaging with their own work at a deeper level
--arguments happened, but they were all friendly ("You have to choose: past or present!  Which one?" "I can have both!" etc.) and all were productive
--some students had very little written, and many of those students benefitted most from this because they got to explain their idea and have a partner help them put words to it


I'll write about the collaborative humour writing my students did later.  But this was pretty revolutionary for us.  It's changed the way Andrew and I write professionally, and I can't wait to see the improvement that our students see in their writing as a result of collaborative writing.

There are a lot of people who will tell you that mastery grading won't work with English.

Andrew Thomasson and I disagree.  We're doing it, actually, and it's working pretty well so far.

Here's our video explaining the philosophy and basic principles of Mastery:

Our Mastery system is based in large part on an idea stolen from Jon and Aaron.  Here's our latest grade table:

In this first unit, we are assessing the following things for mastery:
1. Process of posting to their blog, accessing and using all their Google accounts
2. Making an inference based on evidence
3. Writing an essay that defines who they are through a transformational experience
4. Developing a project that shows mastery of a concept
5. Having a conversation with a group that shows their ability to come to a collaborative definition
6. Reading a text and finding patterns
7. Making meaning of those patterns to determine author's intent

Some of those are processes, and some are about content.  This whole first unit is built on the idea of Explore Flip Apply, and all of those skills and processes were developed throughout the unit in that way.  As an example:

Patterning
Explore: Students read a text and find any repeated ideas or patterns.  Discuss with group to find commonalities.

Flip: Students watched this video:

Apply: Students went back through the text and made meaning from the pattern we found but didn't explicitly trace in the video.  They had to have a group discussion with us to demonstrate that they understood the pattern and how it affected the meaning in the text.

We patterned several other texts in that way (some with a video, some with live in-class modelling of the patterns we found), and the final assessment will ask students to pattern a new text and make meaning of it on their own.

***

Now, we still live in a point-based reality.  So somehow, we need to give students points for getting to mastery.  The way we decided to make it work is to give students all the points for showing mastery, and none if they didn't.  At the end of the unit, the assessment is graded on a rubric, but all other strands are all/nothing.  So 20 out of the 55 unit points are graded on a rubric.  That means that about 1/3 of the unit points are in the assessment and NOT all/nothing.

If students get all the points for the classwork, the most they can get is an 85% - to get the other 15%, they need to complete the Blank White Page project work for the unit.  This is straight-up stolen from Karl Lindgren-Streicher.  Thanks, buddy.

The last thing to mention is the Behind Line.  That's the date on which work should be completed, but students are not "late" until the unit is over.  I don't think we'll take work after the unit is over, but we need to see how it shakes out before deciding for sure.  It's all based on the idea that students can work ahead, but not fall behind.  Often, we will still do synchronous work in class, so we want students to stay near the same point through this unit.  Again, we'll reassess later.

The students are responding positively to this - in fact, they've stopped asking about their grades now, and seem to trust that this is as straight-forward as we keep promising. The true test will come at the end of the unit.

Every year, I have the same anticipation leading up to the school year.  There are unlimited ideas and possibilities.

And then we hit week 4.

And I'm suddenly aware of how much less I can actually do than I wanted and planned to do.  And that silences me. 

So I stop blogging, just in case someone can read in between the lines at how much I'm failing.  

I stop going on Twitter, just in case someone asks me how things are going and I have to tell the truth.

Colleagues stop me in the hallway, and I tell them that "I'm fine" - which is a total lie.  Because I can't tell them the truth:  I'm afraid that what I'm doing isn't good enough.

I start hiding.

I ignore the evidence that learning is happening and that students are making connections between what we're doing and what I want them to learn.  I ignore the opinion of the person who knows my classroom and curriculum better than I do and believes in me far more than I believe in me.  I ignore the parents who left my room on Back to School Night telling me how "inspired" they felt and how "exciting" it was to hear about flipped class and blank white page and all the other amazing things we're doing.

I ignore all of that.  Because the voice in my head keeps telling me it's Not. Good. Enough.  And that voice turns into a chorus of every bad experience from my eight previous years in the classroom - from overbearing principals, to judgemental colleagues, to critical students.

That's The Narrative.  The voice in my head that repeats every negative thing anyone has said about me, my classroom, and my educational beliefs.  The voice of colleagues who never ran out of things to complain about.  The voice of administrators who just didn't get what I was doing.

The Narrative says that I'm failing.  And for eight years, I had no idea how to stop it.

But now I do.

****

Now, I don't think a reflective teacher can ever stop believing The Narrative entirely, because it comes with wanting to do a great job and knowing that it is impossible.  The classroom has too many variables, there is too little time, and there is always too much we want to do.  We want to change the lives of our students.  We want to make a difference.

And we do.

But life change doesn't happen overnight.  It's a series of small decisions, small actions, small words.  And when we show up every day and put our heart and effort and time into teaching our students everything we can, we change their lives...in small increments.  Trust and community are not built overnight, and no amount of wishing or planning can make them appear.  

The only thing that can build trust and community is love.  Love for our students, love for our curriculum, and love for our profession.  It is the only thing that can change anything.

Love is the only thing that can stop The Narrative.  

I know that sounds a little like I'm singing Kumbyah while holding hands with fairies and dancing around Stonehenge.  

And frankly, I don't care.  

Love is wanting your friends and colleagues to succeed so much that it's more important than your own success.  And paradoxically, having so many people to root for has made me more successful as a teacher than ever before.  And with that many people cheering for me, I can't hide.  

Having so many people on my team means that it's impossible to let The Narrative win.

I have colleagues at Redwood who check in on me to make sure I'm okay.  Before Back to School Night, I had over half the department come to see me to give me advice and see if I needed any help.

I have students who work hard and make me want to work even harder.  Who write about the tragedies that shaped them in a completely open and honest way.  Who can't quite believe that I really mean what I say about there being "no anxiety" in my classroom.

I have administrators who go out of their way to understand what I'm doing and support me so I can continue to do my job.

I have friends in the #flipclass community who give me advice, send me resources, and offer support when I need it.

And best of all, I'm team-teaching with Andrew Thomasson, and he won't let me fail.  He also knows me well enough to see when I'm letting The Narrative take over a little too much and he Won't Let The Narrative Win.  The impact Andrew has had on my classroom and my life is a little ridiculous.  It's been postulated in the #flipclass community that we may even be the same person.  

I can't help but be overwhelmed to have so much support, especially in a profession where isolation is just the accepted reality.  I have never had so many people cheering for me.  All of those things are small decisions that people make, and that adds up to a transformation in who I am as a teacher, as well as how much power The Narrative has over me.

When you have that many people who care about you, it's impossible to close your door and pray that no one notices how much you're failing.  

So it's time to Flip The Narrative:

You can't do this alone.  And when you're not alone, and you have people who love you and root for you, you can't fail.  And when it feels like you are ready to give up and shut up and admit defeat, you look at all the small decisions people have made to show how much they care.  And that's enough to keep going.

In the Flipped Narrative, we all win:
Our students get the best version of us we have.
Our colleagues get the passion and excitement we have for our classroom.
Our PLN gets more resources, more support, and more of us.
And we get people to help us recognise all the small decisions we make every day, and how those decisions are a far better measure of our success than The Narrative would like us to believe.

So flipping my classroom really has changed my life...in small increments.  

And it's Not Over Yet.

The way Andrew and I have been teaching is new for our students.

It's new for us, for that matter.

It's not the Teacher Lectures and Student Studies the Textbook paradigm.  And our students really struggled with the transition.

So I decided to ask them what they were learning in my class.  We've been working on these three playlists.

I wasn't expecting much because it really seems like they weren't "getting it" and making the right connections.

Here were the results for the topic:

What are you learning in this class?  What do you think we want you to know/be able to do?


Wordle (all classes combined)

Original notes from the 1st period discussion:

Sorry it's not super legible.  The check marks indicate when another group said something that was already up there.

I'm really proud of them.  

They ARE learning! :-)

As teachers, we have lots of opportunities to think about, plan for, and look back on first days.  We're trained to think in terms of "starting strong" and told to "not smile until [insert fall/winter holiday here, depending on how strict you are]" - that if we don't "set firm boundaries" that we can "never be more strict than we are on the first day."

I think that's all crap.

Am I anti-structure?  No.  I think you'll find that beneath the seeming-chaos in my room, there is a definite order and structure to what's happening.  In the next few weeks, Andrew and I will be writing in depth about, and sharing all our resources/plans for our course.  There has to be order for the chaos to function effectively.  You will see a few of our resources at the end of this point so you have more of a framework to understand what our classes look like.

****

At one time, my ideal classroom looked a lot like an example from a Harry Wong book.  Students were conditioned (some would say manipulated) to perform actions by rote to the point that class runs without teacher guidance.  

It's funny how close the end result is to flipped class, while being on the complete opposite pedagogical scale.  In a flipped class, students take responsibility for their LEARNING, which leads them to use behaviours that make the classroom function seamlessly, whereas in a Harry Wong class, students take responsibility for their actions, which is supposed to make the learning function seamlessly.  

But what often happens is that students learn to act that way in one context, at one time.  How many students sit in a classroom like that and by the end of the year permanently morph into compliant, disciplined learners?  No, they go to the next class, and if the teacher has different structures, they start all over.  Even if the teacher is similar, at some point, they will be expected to do more than show up, take notes, and follow procedures.  And they won't know how to do it.

In a flipped class, the idea is that when you teach students the habits of mind, the skills, and the knowledge they need to be responsible for their own learning, they also start to learn that certain behaviours are more conducive to them reaching mastery, so they start regulating themselves without even thinking about it, in order to push themselves and their peers to learn more.  This is exactly what happened in my class last year - they went from unmanageable to self-managing.  In a matter of weeks.

So both Harry Wong and flipped class reach similar end results in terms of behaviour, but vastly different in terms of learning and attitude.  And if we really think about it, as educators, which should we value?  Should we value teaching students to be compliant, while explicitly managing their behaviour for them through the use of punishments and rewards?  

Or should we be teaching our students how to engage in the messy and beautiful process where making mistakes, failing, trying again, and finding their own way out helps them find not only what they were looking for, but something that is far more valuable: the ability to find, manage, curate, and create information in any discipline, situation, or venue?


****

As someone who values backwards planning, I like to start with my desired end result before I know where to begin.  If I want students who can think critically and creatively, who can build and use with skill a toolkit more vast than just the one used in my own discipline, and who refuse to give up when they fail, but instead reach out to find different solutions from the resources available to them, then starting the year with Harry Wong just won't cut it.

It's why I'm starting with Blank White Page, a project where students generate questions, then find answers to those questions.  They can work on their own, or with peers (from their own school or from three others around the country).  They can use any resources they can find.  They have complete freedom on what to study, how to study it, and how to demonstrate their knowledge.

It's why I'm starting with a video introducing not only myself, but Andrew as well.  Where we explain why we've decided to team-teach their class from 2,500 miles apart.  Where we model what it looks like to have your ideas become something better than you ever could have imagined.   

But most of all, it's why I flipped my class.  I don't know of any other way to teach students to be who and what I want them to be...no, who they NEED to be to succeed in the "real world" outside my classroom.

There are lots of things I want my students to understand about me and about the class on the first day.  But I'm not the centre of my classroom anymore.  If I stand up and talk about my rules and policies on the first day, then I'm still trying to be the centre.  I am communicating to them that what's really important is ME and them following MY rules, MY procedures, and fitting into MY world.  I am telling them that I have all the answers.

That's why I'm not going to talk much on the first day.  I am going to assess my students on the first day - who they are, what they know, what interests them, how they interact, what they expect from school, who they like/hate, etc.  I am collecting evidence and making inferences...which is exactly what I'm teaching them how to do in the first unit.  Because THEY are important.  And the end goal is for THEM to learn, to grow, and to succeed.  

I want them to see that NO ONE has all the answers.  That there will always be blank white pages ahead of them, and it is their job to find ways of filling them in most effectively.  I want their life to be a Blank White Page project - prompted by curiosity, driven by a constant search for answers, and always building towards becoming a life-long learner.

So as I plan for the first day, I ask myself if I'm backwards planning for that end goal.  Will our students walk away equipped with a toolkit that will transfer from the content taught in our class to the content of the rest of their lives?  Will they learn not just compliant behaviours, but habits of mind, skills, and how to be a critical and creative thinker?

****

First days are important, sure.  But what's really important is the LAST day, and thinking forward to One Day, when they leave our class and go on to whatever comes next.  The time when routines and structures are gone, and they are left facing their future.  Will they see something that is chaotic because they have no one imposing structure on them?  Or will they see a blank white page that is just waiting to be filled in and expanded and created?

I know which one I'd choose for them.





I linked to a few videos in the post, but here are some other resources for our first unit:
Mentor Mob Playlists for BWP and Strand 1
Video playlist for unit 1

School starts, for most of us, within four weeks.  What that means is that many teachers are starting to gear up, and have begun to plan their upcoming year.  That means lots and lots of people are discovering the flipped class model for the first time.

So there have been a lot of tweets sent to me and others in the #flipclass circles asking for information about how to flip their class.  Some of the most common questions:

1. What if I don't have the technology to use in class?
2. What if my students don't do homework?
3. What if the students haven't watched the video?
4. How can I flip if I can't make videos?
5. Am I already flipped? I do everything you describe except the video?
6. How can I make this work for me in x context or y situation?

I can't answer all of those. 

And these ideas are not mine.  They were developed in conjunction with several other teachers...the usual suspects really: Andrew Thomasson, Karl Lindgren-Streicher, Crystal Kirch, and Kate Baker.  Between the five of us, and based on conversations with and presentations from hundreds of other educators on Twitter, Edmodo, and in person or in Google+ hangout, we have developed a definition of what it means to flip your class.

So I can tell you what we've discussed, and what I've told people on Twitter:

There is no one right way to flip your class.

There is no How-To binder for sale.

There is no panel of experts to tell you what to do.

However, there is the Flipped Mindset. 

We chose to use the term Flipped Mindset intentionally - we don't want to define Flipped Class as a pedagogy or an instructional method or a theory. 

We want to define it not as something you do, but something you have. 

Within this framework, you can have thousands of different iterations that are all flipped, but are equally different.  In fact, I would argue that no two flipped classes should look the same; if we are differentiating for the kids in the room, then every classroom, and even every period, HAS to be different. 

So what makes up the Flipped Mindset? 

There are three pillars:

1. Teachers make the best use of their face-to-face time with students.

2. The classroom uses student-centred pedagogy.

3. There is an intentional focus on higher-level thinking, rather than rote memorisation.

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What do those pillars mean?

For the first pillar, what you're really talking about is being a reflective educator who uses the tools they have available to reach their students in the most effective possible way.  For me, that means using social media and video (both collaborative with Andrew Thomasson and on ShowMe, my iPad app) because technology is the language my students speak, and I think it's important to A) teach them how to use it responsibly, and B) show them that learning can happen regardless of what tools are used.  Additionally, I think there are some really cool things that can only be done through use of technology (see: collaborative videos with someone from across the country).

However, if the use of video is what is holding you back from flipping, then hear this: IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT THE VIDEO!  What it IS all about is your students, and how you can best serve them in the time you get face-to-face in the classroom.  If something is less important, you can off-load it to out of class time.  If your students won't do homework, then make your class asynchronous or set up stations for different learning tasks.  I should clarify: this doesn't mean that there is never time given in class to students acquiring knowledge.  If that's the best use of your class time, then that's fine.  The key here is reflection and understanding of your students.

The other thing to consider is the tasks in your discipline that would be most difficult in terms of cognitive load.  Those are the tasks that would be most productive to have students engaged in while the teacher is present.  In English, those tasks are reading and writing.  Having students read in class and write in class, while they have access to their peers, who are working on the same thing, and access to their teacher, who can help when they get stuck, gives them the opportunities they need to build those skills, make mistakes, and catch those mistakes without becoming overwhelming.  Students learn to collaborate, but they also learn that even "experts" make mistakes and have to work through them.  And using the face-to-face time you have with students appropriately lets you guide them through those processes which they will find most challenging.

For the second pillar, the teacher is no longer the centre of the classroom.  The entire environment is geared towards the student not only being an active participant in the learning, but also helping to drive the learning.  While it's not possible for students to always create content or allow student choice determine what is taught, including students in the process is key.  Rather than the teacher being the one driving learning and dragging the students along, the students are collaborative.  Rather than being competitive with each other, students share their understanding, which leads to a deeper comprehension and increased ability to make meaning from it.

When Andrew and I started making our collaborative videos, we began at the same point that most other Flipped Class educators do: with content videos.  We wanted to make videos that would allow our students to learn the information they needed to write a research paper.  However, we quickly found that what we were teaching was not content, but rather process.  We were showing students the steps and content of what goes into an essay, but we were also showing them what it looked like to compose that essay, with all the mess and all the problems, and all the real things that happened. 

We went from being teachers with all the answers to students who were actually learning from each other, collaborating with each other, and composing an essay that was far better as a result than one we could have written alone.  That element is key in the shift we made to a more student-centred approach to video in our flipped classes.  It also pushed us to go even farther than that, and develop something we're calling the MetaFlip, or making the process we go through when we read, talk, write or think visible and transparent to students.  It takes us one more step off the stage, and shows students that we make mistakes, that we have to work to understand material, and that collaboration is the key to all the good ideas we ever have.  We'll talk more about MetaFlip later.

The third pillar, engaging in higher-order thinking, is based on Bloom's Taxonomy.  At the top of the pyramid are the higher-order thinking tasks: application, synthesis, analysis, and evaluation.  At the bottom are the rote tasks of comprehension and knowledge.  A class using the Flipped Mindset does deal with facts and basic information, but the priority is taking those facts and working with them, transforming them, and making meaning out of them. 

********

Those three pillars are the three things you need to flip your class.  And guess what: YOU DON'T NEED VIDEO!  And guess what: YOU DON'T NEED TO HAVE STUDENTS DO HOMEWORK!

If you really want to know whether your class is flipped, ask yourself these questions:

1. Do I intentionally plan my face-to-face time in order to allow for the tasks that require the highest cognitive load?  Do I use that information to guide my students as they learn the content and processes?

2. Are students at the centre of my classroom?  Am I in a "guide" role, rather than a "sage on the stage" role?  Am I emphasising collaboration over competition?  Can students see me as a learner, including when I make mistakes?

3. In the assignments I create and assessments I give, is the emphasis on knowledge that is not "google-able"?  Am I asking students to analyse, apply, synthesise, evaluate, and create, rather than just know and understand?

If those questions can be answered yes, you have the Flipped Mindset.  You HAVE flipped your class!

That being said, while I believe that using technology is essential for ANY modern educator, the three things that define what it means to flip your class do not have to include technology.  There is no reason that equity, technology access (or lack thereof), or teacher familiarity and skill with technology have to be barriers to flipping your class.

I know that most of the ideas that build the three pillars returns to the constructivist pedagogy of the past.  And that's why I believe that using technology is important for all teachers.  Students "live" in the world of technology, and if we speak their language, we can help them transfer all the skills they use every day and make them work for their education as well. 

When you have the Flipped Mindset AND you embrace the technology you have available to you, your students will only benefit.  But flipping isn't and shouldn't be synonymous with video.

******

Wow.  That's a lot.

You can read Andrew's post on this subject here.  We will be making a video about this soon, because I think talking about it on screen, with multiple educators, using real examples of how it looks in their class, makes this subject much more clear and comprehensible.  We also will be covering the tools in the toolkit for each discipline and how those apply to our flipped classes.

I know that there is a lot of work to be done before the start of school in a month.  But it's exciting work - and it has helped me become a far better teacher than I was before I flipped my class.  I flipped in the middle of the year.  I wish I had started over the summer, preparing and getting things ready so that those first few months weren't so chaotic.  So if you're looking at this and wondering where to start, find us on Twitter!  Leave a comment!  Get in touch in some way.  There are loads of us willing to help you get started, because there were people before us who helped us get started, and you will in turn help others when you've on your way.  The collaboration I've found through the #flipclass community is amazing, and I am blessed to count my co-authors/originators on this post not only as collaborators, but as friends.

*****

Thanks to Jon Bergmann for the shout out/Friday Follow in this tweet a few days ago:

There are exciting things happening.  And not just on my vacation.  But I'll start with those:

1. I got to meet Karl Lindgren-Streicher!  In person!  In Seattle!  Not just on Google+ hangout!  We spent a fun day talking Flipped Class and General Life Topics of Interest.  I also got sunburned...at a beach...in Seattle.  Will wonders never cease?  And since Karl and I live, like, fifteen minutes from each other, we will certainly be doing that again....although next time, probably closer to home.

2. Andrew and I have some big, big ideas to debut soon.  None are really ready for Prime Time, but the afternoon I spent with Karl yielded some amazing things when Andrew and I debriefed.  Yes, this is totally vague and general.  But you'll all know soon enough!

3. Blank White Page has gone meta.  I'll talk more about this as we get the site built, but Andrew, Karl and I have been working on our VERY OWN BWP project.  Since Andrew has never been to the Pacific Northwest, we were talking about what the armpit of California looked like (the answer? Corning).  Then we realised that instead of describing it, I could just start texting him pictures along the way - the BWP question was "What is the West Coast of America like?  How have those places shaped who you are?".  And thus was a BWP Satellite project born.  So when I met Karl in Seattle, he gladly offered to join the cause of "Show Andrew the West Coast" and the project went from "fun distraction" to "a whole new level of awesome."  We will be cataloging and posting this project when both Karl and I get home.

4. With Andrew's encouragement, I've started writing some creative non-fiction.  It has been really rewarding and I want to (again, as always) publicly thank him for not only encouraging me, but making the first draft of what I wrote readable to someone who is not in my head.  Writing is something I gave up on years ago, and it's been fun to remember all the reasons why I loved writing so much.

Here are some NON-vacation updates:

1. The Research Paper Writing series is pretty much done!  I'm still editing the final conclusion videos (and I'm half done!), but all the prewriting, drafting, and introduction videos are posted to our YouTube channel.  We think they started getting better around video 4, but we're proud of the progress we've made.

2. Next on the agenda is the first in our flipped reading strategy collaborative video.  We will introduce a writing strategy and then walk through a text and a literary analysis essay.  That series will start soon...as soon as we can get a functional wifi connection and some time.

3. We have posted another Conversations in Flipped English video on YouTube.  This time, it's about keeping the humanity in flipped English class.  The first in the series is found here (on Content vs. Process flipped videos).  We hope you find them helpful!  Here is our ENTIRE Flipped Professional Development archive as well.

4. As we finalise our plans, we will be posting the first unit plan Andrew and I plan to teach (that we wrote together).  It covers the basics on technology, what a flipped class is (for students/parents), reading and writing basics, blogging, working in a collaborative group, using peer feedback and group evaluation to develop norms, etc.  It's in (near) final draft, so you should see it here soon.  It is our intention to post our curriculum material and videos for free, so that as many teachers as possible can see that English is flip-able, and is something they can do without throwing out everything they've ever done. 

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That's about it for now.  I'm looking forward to a few more days on the road, then the Flipped Class workshop in San Jose on the 2nd (and meeting Crystal Kirch in person, finally!), followed by a mini-retreat to have some time in solitude, then coming back rested and throwing myself into preparing for school!

I have loved reading all the comments from people here, and I'd also love to hear any questions you have about flipping English, or topics you'd like Andrew and I to cover in our next Conversations video.  And I really hope you all are having a beautiful summer, which is at least as full of family, friends, and fun as it is of flipped class work. :-)

Here are some things we've accomplished in the last few days:

Planned the first unit for two of my courses.  

Have a really good idea about where it goes next, as far as unit planning

Finished filming the Research Writing series, except for a tiny part about quoting vs. paraphrasing

Edited the Introduction videos 

Expanded the Blank White Page project to two cohorts


And here are the things that are even more important:

Bonded with a friend and had the kind of conversations that define the next 30 years of our friendship, not what has already been.

Planned an epic roadtrip up  the California coast to Seattle (with a day trip up to Victoria).

Took a walk late at night in Marin, with a good friend, and talked about everything we don't normally make time to talk about.  And there were times of silence, listening to the owls and watching the bats fly over.  And those silent times were just as important as the talking.

Started reading The Things They Carried.  Not because I am teaching it.  Just because I want to (okay, and Andrew assigned it to me).  But 99% because I want to read it.

***

That last list is WAY more important than the first.  And it's the reason I am having the best summer of my life.

A few hours ago, something happened.  Well, a lot of things happened, but this is one relevant to this blog:

I sat down to work on a few things (like the video on content vs. process videos), and I saw that Jon Bergmann wrote a blog post about Andrew and me and the videos we're making.  

I just don't have words for something like that.

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There are some experiences that words just fail to capture.  Like ion lucidity.  Or ubuntu.  Or friendship.  

And there are some friends who don't just get close enough to see your metaphorical demons, they help bring in the light to chase them out.  I am blessed to have those kinds of friends.  I realise I write about them a lot.  But they remind me that there is nothing so dark that it can't be walked through together.  

And that's something I never want to stop writing about.

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Something else I never want to stop writing about is music.

There was a long period in my life where I intentionally did not listen to music.  It wasn't that I didn't love music; it was that music has a transformative power to reach beyond what is rational and cognitive and grab you in the inner being.  And there have been times in my life, where being ripped out of the rational world and into the inner being was just so painful that I couldn't allow it to happen.  I needed those worlds to be separate, so I could maintain some semblance of order.  

So my iPod was abandoned and I filled my commute with words - NPR, podcasts, whatever.  I told myself that it was about being a "life-long learner" and that I was "modelling learning for my students."  And I was straight-up lying.

Those days and circumstances are long gone, thankfully.  And now that I have both musical friends AND emotional health enough to access my iPod again, I've discovered new music, like Mumford and Sons and The Avett Brothers.  And when I say "I've discovered" what I mean is that my friends have assisted in that discovery process.  Sometimes with youtube links randomly thrown into conversations.  Sometimes with long lists of albums I have to buy "RIGHT NOW" when I ask for a single recommendation.

Both of my new-found bands have the ability to hit what Andrew and I call "physical resonance" - you don't understand it, but you GET it.  Like, at such a deep level that you feel it.  And every time you try to capture that feeling so you can try to explain it, it eludes you, taunts you, escapes your grasp.

So here's a part of song by the Avett Brothers called Salvation Song.  I'm posting it not because I have something to say about it, but because it physically resonates with me right now.  I don't understand it, but I get it.  And that's enough.

And I would give up everything 
No, this is not just about me 
And I don't know a plainer way to say it, Babe 
And they may pay us off in fame 
Though that is not why we came 
And I know well and good that won't heal our hearts 

We came for salvation 
We came for family 
We came for all that's good; that's how we'll walk away 
We came to break the bad 
We came to cheer the sad 
We came to leave behind the world a better way 

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As teachers, we could make those last four lines our mission statement and not miss much that's important.  

We all start off believing that we can do good and that our small presence will impact the entire world.  And most give that up within five years, leaving the profession for something that doesn't demand such a high price.  Few people are willing to be so consumed by something that has so few tangible rewards...and I totally understand that.  But I don't GET it.

There is little about my life that does not connect to my classroom.  There is little about who I am at a fundamental level that does not reflect my choice of profession.  It has a high cost in time, energy, and emotion.

But here is the payoff: I love what I do.  I love the long hours.  I love the intensity and overwhelming nature of the start of school.  I love February, where my students inevitable fall apart and I'm there to catch the emotional shrapnel.  I love June, when I send them out into the world with what I've taught them (and which is never enough) to live the life they choose.  

And I love the way in which it opens me up to other people getting involved in my "mess" - both professionally and personally.  There are few professions that allow for the kind of honesty and intimacy that are possible in education.  Students trust us with their mess and we are blessed that they trust us enough to be vulnerable.  What happens in the classroom, especially in a flipped classroom, is meta-rational.  It is beyond what can be described in words.  Like good music, or friendship, what we do in our classroom cannot be captured in mere words.  It is, as my friend puts it, concerted chaos.

And we invite in that chaos, knowing that bringing order to chaos is a privilege reserved for us, and something that we may not understand, but we GET.

And that's enough.

I don't know a single teacher who hasn't, deep down, wondered if they were doing a good job.  I don't know a single good teacher who doesn't think that constantly.

Some doubt that more than others.  In fact, some of the best teachers believe that they are failures, and wonder if they even should be in the profession at all.

I stake no claim for being a great teacher; I've never been happy with the job I'm doing in my classroom.  For years, I've masked it with a completely fictitious act of over-confidence or with a tendency towards perfectionism (the socially acceptable form of always feeling not-quite-good-enough).  But deep down, it's there.  Lurking, rearing up whenever I feel most vulnerable.

It's the blessing and curse of the reflective teacher: you are always thinking about how to make your classroom better, but you're always struck by just how far you have to go before you are where you want to be.  It's an exhausting place to be in, emotionally, physically, and professionally.

And while I don't trust teachers who say their class is perfect, I also don't trust teachers who say they are doing a bad job.  Because here's the thing:

Learning is messy.  Teaching is messy.  Life is messy.

When we hide that, we hide the reality of who we are and what we do.  In a weird way, we have to show how much of a mess we are to show what a good job we're actually doing.  And in a flipped class, if your class is not a little chaotic then it's not truly student-centred.

Part of the partnership Andrew and I have built is on the premise that we never "hide the mess" - from each other or from our students.  We believe that it's essential to show students how we fail and then try again and then fail again and then eventually (maybe) succeed.  We want them to see us fail because it shows them how NORMAL it is, and that the acceptable response is not to give up, but to get up.  To slip and not be buried.  To fight and not be defeated.

In any educational movement, including the flipped class movement, there are people held up as "experts," but here's what I have learned: there are no experts.  We are all constantly learning, and if we stop learning, we stagnate.  And if we stagnate, we become irrelevant and ineffective...which is death to the classroom, and certainly does not an expert make.

While I see the value in there being people who are willing to put their information out there (I am a blogger who claims to know something about teaching in a flipped English class, after all), I think it's also vital to stop perpetuating the myth that they are (and I am) doing an amazing job and should be revered and held in awe. 

Put even more bluntly: if you don't show me your mess, I'll assume you're lying or irrelevant.  Because the mess is there, whether I can see it or not.

Some of us have been lucky enough to have had some of the mess cleaned up by years at good schools.  That's where I'm coming from.  I went from being a broken teacher, disillusioned with teaching and with everything that wasn't about the relationship between me and my students, to someone who was suddenly a valued and respected colleague.  It helped me clean up my metaphorical living room, even if the rest of my house was still a mess.

But San Lorenzo was the school that taught me how much I had to give and how much I actually stole from my colleagues by not sharing with them.  It was there that I first learned that in the act of sharing your curriculum, you actually are sharing your mess alongside your ideas.  And when it isn't thrown back in your face, but rather taken and made better just by the act of sharing and collaboration, you start to wonder why you held back for so long.

There is a concept very close to my heart that drives at this same idea.  It derives from the Bantu word, "ubuntu."  It is the South African driving principle that affirms that, "I am who I am because we are." People are people THROUGH other people.  There is no such thing as being alone.  We are all interconnected, and as such, we must act accordingly.  We may not see the ties that bind us together, but that doesn't mean that they are not there.

In America, we've never really had this concept, let alone valued it the way my South African friends do.  In fact, it's so foreign to us that we are genuinely surprised when people make choices that are not in their own self-interest.  And yet, according to ubuntu, acting in the interest of others IS acting in self interest, because when someone else is exalted or esteemed, we all are exalted and esteemed.

On the flip side, when one teacher is disillusioned and broken, we are ALL disillusioned and broken.

And that is the state most of us are in.  Is it any wonder that schools are so broken and students are so disillusioned?

And yet.  By showing all of you the mess underneath my thin veneer of competence, I'm hoping to give you some hope that by embracing the mess that is our lives and profession, we can become something better together than we can alone.

Andrew and I named this blog Ion Lucidity, partially as a joke.  

But we were recording a few nights ago, and suddenly, it didn't feel like a joke anymore.  As weird as this sounds, it became the exact phrase we needed to explain what had happened in a single moment.

I'll back up a little bit.

We had spent hours planning a complicated shoot that included topics on which neither of us are experts.  When we started filming, my physical exhaustion and his mental exhaustion was palpable.  I can hardly watch the footage because of how present that exhaustion is.  

After about 20 minutes, we did our typical stop and check-in to see what else we still needed to cover.  And we did something that we do far more than work:  we just talked as friends.  It was an attempt, for a few minutes at least, to try to hold on to our last bit of sanity.  Through that conversation, it became clear we needed to start the recording over from the beginning (this is something that happens regularly in our partnership...which explains the many, many 13 GB Camtasia files on my hard drive).

So we started over.  And that's when it happened: we reached Ion Lucidity.  The ethereal moment when we went from exhaustion to clarity, solely through the act of conversation and collaboration.

Here is something I know: We are so much better together than we are alone.  By working together, we have ideas that are better than any either of us had alone.  It starts from incoherent rambling and flowers into something neither of us expected or imagined.  

And not only are we lucky enough to work with each other, we have been so fortunate as to find other like-minded educators to share our mess with us. 

But what I barely understand is that they care so much that they refuse to leave it that way.  They jump in and help figure out how to make the mess visible, and by doing so, exorcise it for good.  To loosely quote the Avett Brothers,  they love me for the person I'll become, not the person that I am.  That is something beautiful and incomprehensible.

Here is something else I know: the only word other than Ion Lucidity that makes this concept make sense is ubuntu.  

And here is what I believe more than anything: There is a magical quality to collaboration that allows you to be so much greater than the sum of your parts.  It allows you to see what was obscured when you tried to view it alone.  It pushes you beyond where you could ever imagine going.  It supports you when you feel like you will be crushed under the self-doubt and failure.  It reminds you that you are never a failure...it is just your mess becoming visible.

And it is there that we are most powerful: When your mess is visible to the world, people recognise their own mess in the midst of yours and it becomes okay to show theirs too.  And by the simple act of sharing, you are living ubuntu; the ties that bind you to everyone else go from being invisible to being so obvious you wonder how you've missed them for so long.

And you wonder how you ever lived without seeing them, because your life is so much more rich and full than you could have ever imagined.

Call it collaboration, call it Ion Lucidity, call it ubuntu...it doesn't matter.  It replaces that deeply held belief that you're not doing well enough with something even better: the realisation that when you AREN'T good enough, there are people who will love you anyway, and will help you be far better than good enough.