I am going to try

Our district’s “theory of action” this year is summed up in the acronym IDEA.  Make your classes Irresistible, Deep, Exciting, and Authentic. “Engage your students,” they cry, “make learning electric.” Adding to that idea, I am now in the Instructional Leadership Cadre, which in all honesty I did not understand before I signed up. The cadre’s mission seems to be to take risks, to push our lessons to incorporate deeper thinking, increase student agency and the authenticity of our lessons, to find ways to better leverage technology, and then to share those efforts. It seems I have thrust myself to the forefront of this initiative.

But how does one do all  that? While the district message is loud, it is short on details. What does one put aside? What about common assessments, state standards, and the scope and sequence we’ve built over the years? Is this just another slogan that will join the stack of slogans that have been championed for a year and then pushed aside? How does this fit?

To me, IDEA is really just a fancy way to say engagement, and the idea that our classes should be relevant and interesting whenever possible is not new. In fact, it is a constant target for teachers. The thing is though, it is also really hard to do. I am trying to make reading and writing interesting to teenagers whose focus has shrunk to the size of hand held screen. So many of my students have ZERO interest in reading and writing. I have to scrap and claw for their attention and effort. It feels like people removed from the day to day  classroom forget this, or are just unaware of it. They seem to believe that students are just waiting for inspired teachers, that if we would just be better, they would willingly bask in the glory of learning. That just hasn’t been my experience. It’s very possible that my practices and shortcomings are a significant factor for my students’ apathy for education, I admit that. But it is hard to think about letting go of control and investing in being deeper, more authentic, and more exciting when such efforts in the past have often fallen on deaf ears.

We also work in a system that is universally recognized to be flawed. The six period day that isolates different subjects is silly. The A, B, C grading system for evaluating student learning and progress is completely inadequate. Standardized testing has become a monster we have to feed, but that does little to nothing to better prepare our students for life success. At the national, state, district, and even building level, decision after decision seem to be driven by factors and agendas that I don’t understand. I feel at the mercy of short sighted politicians and the iron bonds of tradition. There are beacons of light for sure, but I do not understand a majority of the decisions that are made that directly effect my ability to be different and engage my students.

I do not mean to be a complainer. I am trying to be honest. I care about my job. I want to be a great teacher. I work very hard to make a positive impact on the kids in my classes. I want to inspire and engage my students. I want my class to be compelling and authentic and something they look forward to. I want to develop problem solvers and deep thinkers who ask compelling questions and who seize control of their learning. I want all of that, but the reality is that 95% of my time is spent alone in the classroom. It is just me and the kids. Well, me and the kids and five 50 minute classes a day and my three preps and a stack of essays to grade and  daily work to get in the grade book and the assortment of issues and agendas students bring and the SBAC and our common building assessments and practices and parent concerns and cell phones and my comprehensive evaluation and the current climate of hostility in our society and Chromebooks that don’t always work and now the Leadership Cadre. . .

I feel like I am climbing a mountain with a backpack full of rocks, and I am weary.  I am just weary. But I will go forward. I am daunted and doubtful, but I will go forward. The woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. Forward.