Reflections on Teach-Now

I have made a tremendous amount of growth in my teaching over the course of this year and during my time with Teach-Now. I began the program as a pregnant woman in a brand new school in just my second year of teaching. Now that I am in my second year at this particular school, I have grown to know my 300+ students much better and have found a rhythm and style in my teaching that suits me. While I still have a lot of growth to make, I know that my relationships with students are stronger than they’ve ever been, and my dedication to strengthening these relationships is paying countless dividends.

My teach-now clinical has forced me to hone some of my already-existing lessons and note the different areas of improvement within them. I am confident that I will be able to take the lessons learned from these with me when I re-teach many of them next year. Meeting regularly with my mentor has strengthened my “growth mindset” when it comes to my practice and helped me to see my strengths and weaknesses on a continuum rather than feeling I am simply “winning” or “failing” as a teacher. Similarly, when I look at the videos of my peers I am able to acknowledge that none of us are perfect, that we are all struggling to find our way and develop ourselves into the better educators. I used to wince every time I saw a child off-task in my videos. Instead of despairing, I am better able to recognize that my failures are constantly presenting me with an opportunity to learn, reflect, and change.

Both within my school’s own initiatives and within the teach-now program, there is a push for more student-led learning, where the teacher becomes more of a facilitator and less of a lecturer. Because my content-area is art, my students are largely independent during their work, but I am continuously looking for different ways to help scaffold their self-directed learning so that they have the tools they need to capitalize on this time. I’m also thinking of different ways to decrease the amount of time I spend “preaching,” so that students can truly own their learning and remain engaged 100% of the time. This focus has definitely increased the quality and depth of my lessons, and more and more I am able to have a clear vision of what my ideal classroom would look like.

Pre-Assessment Differentiation in the Art Room

In elementary art class, it's important that students leave the 4th grade with a basic understanding of art vocabulary and concepts. These include: the color wheel and the difference between primary, secondary and complimentary colors, vocabulary words such as texture, pattern, repetition, shape, line, symmetrical, abstract.

I like to begin the year in fourth grade by giving students an opportunity to "show what they know" through an art assessment. In it, students get to draw and demonstrate their knowledge of the color wheel and many of the above mentioned art vocabulary words.

You can view the assessment closely here. 

Based on the results of this assessment, I can cater my future lesson plans and units to their learning needs. I created this mind map to brainstorm ideas for different groups of students following a pre-assessment, and here I will expand on the activities I mentioned so that they are relevant to the students in my art room.

Students Who Did Very Well

These are students who clearly have a great basic art vocabulary and understanding of color. That means they're ready to learn about even more complex art concepts, like color saturation, hue, contrast, and composition. I would give these students a new list of vocabulary words to research and create an "experts" assessment about. 

Students Who Knew Some of the Material

These students may understand some concepts but have gaps elsewhere. For this, I love the idea of having students grade and correct each other's quizzes in groups, and give them a chance to do a re-do. This will allow them to help each other close their learning gaps collaboratively. 

Students who knew very little of the Material

These students need a whole lesson on color theory! One lesson I love to do involves putting different colored paint in plastic bags with shaving cream, and having students mix them together to discover what colors make what. It is a fun sensory activity, and I can do it with them to help them understand what makes a primary color primary, a secondary color secondary, etc. These students could have their own color wheel to fill in as they're working.

For the vocabulary, I could give the students a list of the words where they have to match the word or image to the definition. The visual might help them jog their memory or improve their retention. Later on, I would have them retake my initial assessment to see if the gaps in learning still exist. 

Assessing PBL - Totem Poles

One project-based assignment I do with my 4th graders is a totem pole collage project. Here is my rubric for the Totem Pole Project.

Project Objective: Students will be able to design a piece of a totem pole that represents an animal of their choice. Students will use construction paper, scissors and glue to collage their designs. Students will demonstrate an understanding of symmetry and be shown a specific technique they can use when cutting the different pieces of their design in order to keep the design symmetrical. Students will self-evaluate themselves based off of a rubric.

Project Description: Building off of a previous lesson on symmetry, students will watch a video about totem poles as a "spark." Students will then select a particular animal they would like to use as a basis for a totem pole design. They can get an image of the animal itself, or use an image from a totem as reference. On a piece of construction paper, students will have to cut out identical or symmetrical shapes to create a collaged totem pole block. Students will be encouraged to "stylize" the animal - to add in decorative shapes and details that they may not necessarily see in the reference image, or to change and make additions to the totem pole design they are looking at for reference.

Assessment & Feedback: In order to provide feedback throughout the project, I will provide students with the project rubric on the first class, and throughout class time ask the students to assess themselves. Melissa Ghelman mentioned having students self-reflect in a journal entry, but I prefer the in-the-moment discussion with a student as it allows them to immediately get to work on the things they recognize need improving. One way I could closely monitor and track this would be to simply carry around a clip board throughout class and write down the scores the students are giving themselves. If a student has ranked themselves quite low, I can find ways to support that student, or ask a student who's farther along to help out their peer.  

At the end of the project, I will ask students to give a final self-evaluation in one color pen, and I will circle my own evaluation in another. The works will be displayed on the wall, so everyone can see each other's designs. Once I have handed back the rubric for the last time, I will ask students to reflect why my evaluation might have been similar or different, and give them an opportunity to ask questions. The feedback they receive with regards to their use of materials and implimentation of different techniques can be transferrable to future projects. 

Reflections on Formative Assessment

 I was in a PD session earlier this week on Formative Assessment and I made the argument that, as a K-4 Art teacher, virtually my entire class is a kind of formative assessment. Every single time one of my students engages in creating a work of art, they are providing me data on their capabilities. Simply by circulating around my room and looking at the student work, I will be able to tell which students understood the directions or, in some cases, which ones are simply choosing not to follow them because they did not find my assignment engaging for them. I will be able to see which students chose to use colored pencils and which ones prefer markers. I can see which students enjoy working quietly and which ones are eager to share their work with friends. What is important is not just that I notice these things, but also that I use this data to inform my teaching. 

As a "specials" teacher (aka arts, music, dance, PE) I have many unique opportunities when it comes to formative assessment. Probably the biggest one is that, while a homeroom teacher will be teaching a given lesson 1 time, I will actually be teaching the same lesson to different classes across a grade, sometimes multiple times in a single day. This gives me a chance to use the knowledge I've gained from a given class and immediately implement it. If I know one class struggled with a given direction, the next time I teach the lesson I can be more explicit about that direction so as to avoid the confusion my last class encountered. 

While I have not yet received feedback from my Cohort on the formative assessments I've submitted to Teach Now, I wanted to highlight a few things that I thought about based on the things I learned in my own school's PD, and how I used them during this assignment.

Improve Accuracy of Assessment: 

Just like Leana - I used to do a kind of "show me on your fingers" "thumbs up/thumbs down" in-the-moment formative assessment to see when students clearly understood my directions or not. At the PD, another teacher told me about "Shake, Shake, Show" which is where students also show answers on their fingers, but they do it all simultaneously, like you would in a rock, paper, scissors, shoot game. I am modifying my assessment to this in order to make sure students are just copying each other's answers in the moment, so I have a better understanding of who is actually understanding my directions and who is not. 

Better Supporting Students with Special Needs: 

I brainstormed with other teachers in my PD about how to incorporate special needs learners better in my formative assessments. I have little to no experience with students who have physical disabilities, so I specifically asked about that. Luckily at my school, my peers pointed out that the students with severe physical disabilities would have a Para with them, so I realized that was a relationship I could use to support the students learning. For example, if the student could not themselves raise their hand with a number of fingers, they could tell the number to their Para who could act as their representative. 

Formative assessment has and will continue to be an incredibly valuable tool in my classroom. To me, formative assessment quite simply is good teaching. You check to see if your students understood the material, and if they didn't, you find a way to help them reach the understanding you seek. Using a variety of formative assessments has supported my learners in many ways and I'm excited to continue this practice. 

Reflecting on Positive Reinforcement

Once I was circulating around my art room during a third grade class, when I overheard two girls loudly gossiping about an incident with another student who was sitting not so far away from them in the room. My ears weren’t the only ones perking up to the conversation, and as other students quieted and the gossiping continued I could feel tensions rising in the room. When dealing with this same dilemma in the past, I’ve often publicly confronted the students and asked that they only speak positively of their peers. But often when I do this, students come up with excuses, or appear to harbor some kind of resentment toward me for reprimanding them. All of the sudden, instead of drawing attention away from the negativity, my entire classroom is now attentively listening to a new student-teacher conflict as it unfolds.

On this particular day, I took a slightly different approach. I stopped by the table and carefully looked at the painting of a girl next to them and exclaimed, “Sydney! These buildings are just fantastic - all the different shades of gray you used to make the windows really help to make them pop!” The once-gossiping girls paused from their conversation and leaned over to see her painting and agreed. I asked Sydney to explain the techniques she used to the other students and walked away. With just one positive comment, I was not only able to reinforce the technical skills Sydney was using to create her picture - I was also able to redirect the focus of her peers away from gossip and back onto what I wanted them to be thinking of in the first place - their art. Later on in the class, I pulled the two students aside to let them know how their gossiping made me and others uncomfortable. In this more private context, the conversation felt like less of a public attack, and the discussion was much more comfortable for all of us.

Just like in our everyday lives, when we pay special attention to the things we like, that we are grateful for, and that are going well for us, they seem to multiply and flourish. But likewise, when our attention remains solely focused on the things that bother us, we find ourselves sucked into a spiral of negativity, where almost everything appears flawed or against us. This spiral of negative thinking can be absolutely toxic in a classroom environment. It reminds me of a sign we used to have in my house growing up that read, “If mama aint happy, aint nobody happy.” You could say the same of teachers. Your relationship with students can thrive or wither depending on the attitude you carry on any given day.
 

According to research, teachers are most effective when they spend more of their time focusing on good behavior than they do responding to negative behavior.[1] This idea applies not just to a classroom but really any leadership role and even marriage. John Gottman, a famous psychologist who studies relationships and is most famous for his peer reviewed studies on marriage and divorce, found that the “magical ratio” for happy marriages involved both parties making 5 positive comments to every 1 negative comment.[2] Other research demonstrates that humans are more likely to remember negative comments than positive ones. Even when you’ve had a relatively fine day with multiple positive encounters, it can only take a single negative encounter to suddenly feel as though you’re having the worst day ever. Why? Scientists hypothesize that we are biologically engineered to take negative stimuli more “seriously” due to our self-preservation instincts.[3]

If you think about your most difficult students and the sheer amount of corrections and negative statements you and others may be making about them throughout the day, it isn’t so hard to imagine why this child might dread coming into school. Students who are already anticipating that their class time will be unpleasant and unengaging for them are not going to be particularly excited or focused when they arrive. Having already received a great deal of negative feedback throughout the day, they may be on-edge and more likely to have a hysterical reaction to your next correction. Or they could simply be defiant and numbed to your feedback altogether. Finding the one thing this student has done well or improved upon and vocalizing it can go an incredibly long way. I might surprise them by texting their parent a picture of the project they did that day, (something I’ve found to be extremely effective) or publicly shout them out for the perseverance they showed on a math problem. The more confidence you show in their ability to execute what you need them to do, the more confidence they will have in themselves.

When making corrections, I can still try and frame them in a positive way. Dozens of parenting books and blog posts encourage people to say and show kids what they want their children to do, rather than just tell them what they don’t. For example, instead of saying, “Don’t be so messy with your paint,” I can say, “Make sure you’re just using the tip of your brush to get the paint. See?” and demonstrate exactly what I want. Or instead of saying, “Stop talking,” I can say, “Once you’re standing silently, we can enter the room.”

Another key to the implementation of both positive reinforcement and responding to negative behavior is consistency. I want to avoid making empty threats and follow through with predictable consequences for infractions. Whenever I introduce a new material, I always remind students that when we repeatedly fail to use them correctly, we lose the opportunity to use them. If I fail to implement a consequence I have stated to the class - because I’m stressed or burnt out, because I don’t want to deal with a child’s tantrum if they’re forced to face the consequence, whatever it is - not only can this come across as favoritism and unfairness, it can also teach the children of your class that “no” doesn’t actually mean “no,” and that all conseqeunces are actually up for debate.[4]

In my classroom, we have a “send out” procedure in partnership with the “Culture” team at my school. If a student does something minor, they’re given a warning. If the behavior continues, they are asked to write a reflection. If they refuse, we also give them the option of completing the reflection in a different classroom and then returning. As a last resort, we call the “SFA” office, where the student will either have to miss a peer lunch (they still get to eat in the office) or recess, have a phone call home, and will be required to finish their work and the reflection before they are allowed to leave. But though these consequences are available, it is up to individual teachers to make sure they are being as consistent as possible in implementing each consequence.

One of my biggest struggles as an art teacher is how to deal with students who misbehave at the very end of class. Holding students accountable for behaviors that occur just as they are leaving the room requires maintaining excellent communication with the homeroom teacher, the students parents, and taking detailed notes. When students don’t clean up at the end of class for instance, I need to take down their name and make sure there is some kind of follow-up action if I want to see an improvement in their behavior. This is one of the most difficult challenges for me as a “specials” teacher.

I’ve been asked to make a flowchart for how I will respond to different behaviors in my room - but I don’t honestly find flowcharts particularly useful. When handling 30 different children, I’m not going to remember to consult a chart for how I respond to behavior. Instead, I’ve come up with some general rules to hold myself accountable and to make sure I’m continuing to use positive reinforcement even when the going gets tough. Here are the “Golden Rules of Reinforcement” that I have created for myself.

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[1] Walker, H., Ramsey, E., & Gresham, F. (2004). Antisocial behavior in schools: Evidence-based practices (2nd ed.). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.

[2] Gottman, J., & Silver, N. (2014). Why marriages succeed or fail. London: Bloomsbury Paperbacks.

[3] Thompson, A. (2007, September 05). Bad Memories Stick Better Than Good. Retrieved December 09, 2017, from https://www.livescience.com/1827-bad-memories-stick-good.html

[4] "No" Means "No": The Importance of Consistency. (n.d.). Retrieved December 09, 2017, from http://www.educationworld.com/a_curr/columnists/jones/jones029.shtml

Teacher Expectations: Comparing Different Classroom Learning Environments

Every teacher wants to know the magic ingredients necessary to creating a constructive and challenging learning environment. But just like a complex dish, extraordinary classrooms can be created using many different components. In this post I'm examining 3 different video examples of teaching, this Roller Coaster Physics Class, this 3rd Grade Chinese Math Class, and this teacher's use of Whole Brain Teaching.

Goals and Expectations

The 5th grade Science teacher leading this Roller Coaster Physics Class allowed her students to do a lot of the learning on their own, collaboratively, by creating a project which engaged each student in some fashion and forced them to grapple with real-world scenarios and problems. I absolutely loved how realistic these expectations were, as nothing drives me crazy than the idea that as students we are only practicing academic exercises without any understanding of a real-world application for them.

Connecting what we do in the classroom to the greater world is something I strive to do often. I work in elementary school, and every child in the school is required to take art. While some students enjoy art immensely, there are others who have already classified themselves as being "bad" at art, and therefore have little investment in the work. I explain to students that art is not just for people who are "good" at drawing, but that it is for everyone. I teach them that through trying new things and brainstorming, we become more creative, and I have discussions with my classes about how being creative is something that can enhance any career in the world - whether you want to be a youtube star, or a basketball coach, or even a stay-at-home-mom. I try to set my expectations to show students that it is not necessarily all about what the finished product looks like, but the struggle and effort invested in the work that is most important.  

This science teacher has brought the real-world application of skills to another level by giving students realistic jobs and even incorporating a budget and other limiting factors into the projects her students are working on. In doing so, she is preparing them for actual tasks and problems they could encounter as citizens in the real world.

In this 3rd Grade Teacher's Math Class, students partake in chants that help them to memorize mathematical equations and encode them into long term memory. I too enjoy using chants like this to engage my younger students, and can see myself incorporating even more chants of my own that relate to concepts that need to be ingrained into long term memory for an artist to be successful, like how to mix different colors. As far as the teacher’s academic standards, these are a little less clear. I don’t see as many students being held accountable for their participation in the group work being done, and while I love the engagement I saw from some students, I’m not sure how much room there is for student creativity or real-world application of the math within the classroom routines and exercises they’re participating in.

I had a similar concern with the teacher who used Whole Brain Teaching techniques. In this case I saw students participating across the world - but in what, exactly? Repeating what the teacher has to say and reciting different chants and phrases has it’s benefits, sure, but I don’t personally think it should be the primary substance of a lesson. When I saw students speed reading for example, it was hard for me to imagine them actually comprehending the words being said, as almost all of my own brain power would’ve been invested simply in keeping up with exchanging the words aloud. In my own class, I like incorporating the use of hand gestures and some of the call and response tools offered on the Whole Brain Teaching website, but the majority of substance in my lesson takes place doing actual work, and there are no flashy or quirky ways we go about working. While these techniques can be fun from time to time, they are not how conversations and work proceed in the real world.

Behavioral Expectations

In looking at all 3 teacher's behavioral expectations, it's interesting to note that, at least within the context of these videos, student behavior was hardly spoken of or acknowledged at all. If it was acknowledged, it was largely through positive reinforcement. The science teacher had given each group of students at least one person who's job was to confirm that everyone else was doing their job. In doing so, she's essentially having the students monitor each other themselves, which frees her up to focus on giving out supplies, and probing students thinking to see where they might have any misconceptions. In the Chinese Math Class, there appeared to be several students who actually weren't participating in the chants. It was unclear, because of the length of the video, if this was ever addressed by the teacher, or if the teacher is primarily concerned with their participation in other activities outside of the chants. In any case, this was a different expectation than I have grappled with in my own school, where I have been told to halt instruction if I don't have "100%." Regardless of this, the Chinese math teacher at least didn't appear to have to deal with anyone literally interrupting instruction time, and went on with the lesson appearing enthusiastic and excited. Her positive body language and tone was a positive reinforcement of the student's behavior in it's own right. The whole brain teaching teacher appeared to have 100% student engagement and frequently praised them for their participation and work.

These are marks of a positive classroom culture. When student engagement is high, student misbehavior is generally low. Knowing this to be true, I often have to reexamine why a particular class isn’t going so well, and reevaluate the flow of my lessons to make sure I’m supplying students with enough chances to participate and engage with the material - that I am not just lecturing as I deliver the instructions for the day’s project, and that students are actually invested in the content being taught.

Norms and Procedures

Norms and Procedures were clearly a solid part of all these teacher’s videos. In the science teacher’s room, students were clearly already familiar with the process of “buying” materials, and the duties inherent in each job role assigned. In the Chinese teacher’s room, the majority of students knew how to recite the chants very well, and the pace of the class overall demonstrated their ease with the flow and the material. And of course, in the case of the teacher using Whole Brain Teaching exercises, students knew immediately to follow along with the teacher’s hand gestures and were able to do various exercises on cue. In all three cases, everyone appeared to be “on the same page” so to speak, and the teacher’s job was therefore to dispel confusion regarding actual content rather than classroom routines.

My classes, unfortunately, aren’t quite there yet. I just replaced an art teacher who had been there for 3 years prior, and many of my students are still becoming adjusted to the different norms and expectations I have set for them in contrast. Sometimes these routines are so ingrained, that even after I have given a distinct direction more than once, students will do what they used to do on autopilot. I am eager for the day when it is the new routines and procedures I’ve taught them that they’re doing on autopilot instead, but this takes time and reinforcement. Since it’s already nearly December, it’s difficult to remind myself and force myself to end a project early in order to practice a routine I’ve noticed hasn’t been as smooth as I’d like it to be. But once my classroom has all its procedures solidly in place, I know it will save us all a lot of headaches.

While all three of these classrooms involved students in instruction in very different ways, each one appeared to have a solid foundation of expectations and procedures on which students learning was more easily built. My personal approach incorporates aspects from all three of these classrooms, but isn't particularly close to any one in particular. I enjoy incorporating chants and whole brain teaching activities, I use classroom jobs, but a lot of our critical thinking analysis takes place in a discussion format and the primary content of my class requires students to work individually on their own art projects. But regardless of their approaches, I aspire to be like all three of these teachers, in terms of their enthusiasm and use of positive body language and reinforcement. It is my job to convey with my tone, words and actions, that I am confident my students can and will achieve the academic and artistic goals I have set for them. 

The Weather in my Room: Cultivating my Classroom Climate

In the months before I decided to transition careers and move into teaching full time, I started reading various books on parenting and education, books like Carol Dweck's "Mindset," John Holt's "How Children Learn," and Chip Wood's "Yardsticks." I had just given birth to my daughter and was excited to learn as much as possible about her development and any ways I could support her growth.

As I read up on some of the practices of the greatest teachers of our time, I fondly recalled my own favorite teachers and the unique class traditions we held. As I became more and more solidified in my decision to pursue this calling, I’d dreamily imagine what my own classroom would look like. Students would be independent and collaborative; even 6 year olds would seek out constructive criticism from each other. Parents would marvel at the intricate and beautiful projects my students would make. If my class were an elective, the seats would fill within the first few hours of enrollment. My reputation for humor and thought-provoking lessons would have students arriving already anticipating the fun and learning about to unfold.

Of course, the realities of teacher life aren’t always as rosy as we might imagine them, and I quickly discovered that being an excellent teacher is not just a matter of having great intentions. 2016-17 marked my first full year teaching in the classroom at a “high-needs” public school where 24% of the population were students with special needs, more than half were below the national poverty line, and the vast majority were not performing on grade level. So many friends and family members and even fellow teachers have wrongly assumed that because I was teaching art -and we all know “Kids love art!”- that I would not encounter the same problems a "regular" teacher might. But the art room, just like the cafeteria or the playground, was a place where students could socialize while they worked and played, and where new social dynamics and relationships could unfold. My class was also a place where students' struggles with fatalism and perfectionism could also emerge. Like most first year teachers, creating the classroom climate I had envisioned was far more difficult than I could have ever anticipated.

In the beginning, I didn’t even have my own classroom. I “pushed-in” with some supplies on a cart to different homerooms for the first half of the year. This limited the supplies I could use and forced me to adapt to different desk-formations and varied classroom cultures. In some spaces, students could get up and sharpen their pencil whenever they needed to, and in others they could not. Some classes had students whose desks had been singled out and moved away from their peers and in others, excluding students from the group was absolutely forbidden.

While navigating these different classroom environments was difficult, one benefit was that it exposed me to all sorts of classroom management styles and layouts. I saw some very specific things I knew I wanted to incorporate in my own space, as well as many things I quickly discovered did not suit my style or belong in my "toolkit." I saw classrooms where students had rotating classroom jobs which I loved, and classes where students had different stickers on their desks that the teacher could simply point to when a student needed a reminder to stay on task. I loved the idea of filling the walls and hallways of my school with student works, and decorating my desk area with pieces students had made from home and given to me as gifts. Whenever I acquired my own room, I knew I wanted to make it a safe and relaxing space, where my students and I could feel free to take risks in our creative work and share it with our peers.

And there was one major thing I saw often at my last school that I absolutely wanted to avoid having in my classroom: an angry dictator.

If I asked all of my peers in Teach-Now how they want to behave in their classroom, I strongly doubt anyone would say they’d like to be a cold and steely drill sergeant. But in moments of great distress, when lesson plans aren’t going as planned, when we’re exceptionally tired and find ourselves at wits end, that nasty dragon/teacher we see in children’s books and on TV might emerge. We may raise our voices or say things we later regret. We may invalidate a student’s feelings, or not treat individual incidents with the care and attention they rightly deserve. 

I'm an amateur meditator, and have lately been reading several books on the subject. On the bus-ride to school the other morning, with the topics of classroom culture and bullying swirling around in my mind, I was particularly struck this passage from Sharon Salzberg's, "Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness." Salzberg writes: 

"A friend of mine once traveled to  Sikkim, hoping to see His Holiness the Sixteenth Karmapa, a great Tibetan lama. The trip to Sikkim was quite arduous, demanding the crossing of great mountain passes and the fording of rivers. Having made this effort, my friend was delighted to be actually granted an audience with His Holiness. He was amazed to find that the Karmapa, an eminent spiritual leader known the world over, treated him as though his visit were one of the most important things that had ever happened to the Karmapa in his life. This treatment did not manifest through grandiose gestures or ceremony, but rather through the simplicity and completeness of the Karmapa's presence, which offered my friend an experience of being completely loved."[1]

Reading this passage, I thought about the hundreds or even thousands of opportunities to provide a different child my attention each day, and the different messages my attention could send them. Would I choose to make them feel loved or loathed? Would my face convey joy or contempt? Was I sending the message to them that their voices and their feelings mattered to me, or that I could not be bothered, that I was already too busy worrying about the next lesson, or eager for my lunch? Was I trying to bend students to my will, or actually helping them build the character and qualities they needed to make positive choices outside of my presence?

I love this quote from the late Haim Ginott, a famous school teacher and child psychologist. He states,

"I’ve come to a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or dehumanized.” [2]

In constructing my own classroom environment, I of course think about strategically placing the pencil sharpener so that it is easily accessible, and making space to hang student work. But my biggest focus and biggest challenge is centered around preparing myself to be a calm and collected leader, mentally, emotionally and physically. In this way, creating a warm classroom environment requires my daily practice and reflection. I’ve been practicing taking a moment for myself before I discuss a difficult conversation with a student. I’m practicing asking the question, “What happened?” instead of the accusatory, “Why did you do that?!” After difficult conversations with students, I practice asking them, “Would you like a hug?” It’s crazy just how much this simple gesture has transformed some of the relationships I have with my students.

When i've made a mistake, I'm practicing openly admitting it to my students, and asking for their forgiveness. But often I find that my own inner-critic that has the most difficult time forgiving! At the end of a difficult day, I have to remind myself that no one is perfect and renew my faith in myself. I've learned that this kind of self-compassion is as essential to my ability to function in my classroom as the pencils and the paper are. (That's why I'm reading books like "Loving-Kindness," as cheesy as the title might be!) 

I recognize that creating a classroom culture of equity, of kindness, and of mutual respect, begins with my own presence. So in my quest to cultivate the climate I'd like to see in my room, I begin and end with cultivating myself. 

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[1] Salzberg, S., & Kabat-Zinn, J. (2008). Lovingkindness: the revolutionary art of happiness. Boston: Shambhala.

[2] A quote by Haim G. Ginott. (n.d.). Retrieved November 10, 2017, from https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/81938-i-ve-come-to-a-frightening-conclusion-that-i-am-the