Wednesday, June 5, 2013

I Can Haz a Bike? (prequel to A Lesson in Biking)


My Sweet New Ride
I recently bought a bike, and, although I’d ridden bikes over the years, my most recent experience was mostly on those cruddy, non-geared “beach cruisers”. In fact, I hadn't had a 10 speed since I was in 5th grade and my best friend bequeathed hers to me upon moving to another state….over 30 years ago!! (Where does the time go??)

My husband lucked into a sweet deal on Ebay about a month ago leaving me the only member of our family without a bike. I searched periodically on Amazon's and Target's websites hoping to find THE bike that would be just right for me. I diligently perused pictures and read the customer reviews, but nothing ever called my name. The next thing I knew my husband had affixed a bike rack to the back of my car. Things were getting serious. It was time for me that to take the plunge. At Target. Not exactly a bike shop with experienced salespeople.

The shopping process was a little scattered because we had both children with us and I was wearing a dress which makes test riding in the aisles of Target even more precarious than usual. After looking at a few of the women’s bikes and confirming my choice with customer reviews on my phone I settled on a Schwinn Hybrid. It’s brown. Hardly the cute, mint-green ones I’d been eyeing online, but  the time had come to make a decision and the family had just about run out of patience. (Also, the bikes are dangerously close to the toy aisles and my husband and I had already declared this a No-Toy-Trip into Target.)

It was the last week of school, plus I’m in graduate school so I didn't actually take my new bike for its initial spin for 2 whole weeks. I was excited and nervous because some of the reviews from Target.com claimed the in-store assemblage of bikes to be less than reliable.

I hopped on one afternoon in my driveway and was immediately faced with decisions when trying to choose a gear. There are 3 on one handle and SEVEN! on the other. That adds up to like 456 choices of gears I think…way more than the 10 I’d never mastered in fifth grade.

I needed help.

To be continued...

A Lesson in Biking....and Collaboratively Blogging


This post is a 2-parter! My "student side" of a recent biking lesson is at the top and my friend's "coaching side" of the story follows. I LOVE collaborating like this with other educators. 

Me....after just one lesson! Okay...not really.
Faced with numerous gears and trepidation about the "proper" way to ride a bike, I recalled reading an educator-friend’s many updates on Facebook about bike rides and thought she might be game for a riding lesson. One message to her and the date was set.

Heather is working on her Ph.D. and has been in a coaching position with our county for several years. I've always enjoyed her relaxed manner with the students as well as the teachers I've seen her work with. So from the get-go I wasn't too nervous about our meet-up even though I knew she was light years beyond me in biking experience.

Having joked about this experience being great fodder for a blog I couldn't help but draw comparisons between our “lesson” and those that we face every day in the classroom.

First of all, I sought out the help of someone I knew had already mastered the content. How many times in our classrooms do we squelch conversations without realizing that our students are actually seeking help from their more experienced peers?

As we unloaded our bikes Heather assessed my experience level with one question, “So, when’s the last time you rode a bike?” I reassured her that I knew that I could ride a bike, but it was “that gear-shifting stuff” that had me worried. Plus, I was concerned that my bike, having been assembled by an unknown person in the backroom at Target, could possibly have been put together backwards and I wouldn't know it until a wheel fell off.

Heather chose the local college campus which was a great area for our initial ride. We were able to start out on level pavement so I could practice shifting gears. She gave me simple, short instructions as we practiced - basic things that I could have read about or Googled, but that were easy for me to grasp with an expert by my side.

We made several laps around the campus on pavement. I had to stop a few times in the beginning to get my seat height worked out. Heather was quick to lend a hand, tightening a screw that I had no idea existed. Already this free lesson was worth gold to me! She also pointed out that I should take my bike to a real bike shop after a few weeks to have everything tightened up and checked. I never would've thought to do such a thing, but it made total sense, especially given my paranoia about the initial assembly of the bike.

We chatted about school and our possible dissertation topics as we cruised around. All the while I became more and more comfortable shifting gears and braking without throwing myself over the handlebars. When Heather suggested trying out a trail I was confident in her experience as my coach that I would be able to manage whatever she led me through. How many times have we been told that trust is critical in student-teacher relationships? Because I trusted her, I had confidence in myself.

The trail was great fun! I’d never ridden off pavement before and although my hybrid was not as adept as her mountain bike at handling mud, I made it through without incident. Again, as we navigated puddles, gravel pits, roots, etc. Heather provided concise tips when I needed them. How often do we front-load students with all the instructions for an activity only to find ourselves repeating information later? No one wants to eat a steak in one bite. It's much easier to digest information one bite at a time.

After an hour we returned to our cars and parted ways. We’d rode about 6 miles which was great for me as a beginner. I’d come light years from where I started an hour earlier thanks to Heather’s support. This experience further cemented my belief in programs like The Daily Five and C.A.F.E. by The Sisters. Students learn by doing.

Heather could’ve met me at a coffee shop and we could’ve talked about biking. She could have explained how to change gears and maybe even presented a PowerPoint about proper bike assembly. I bet she could’ve found a worksheet online that would’ve quizzed my knowledge of how to shift gears and adjust my seat.

Instead, we biked. 


Heather's Coaching Side of the Story and a link to her blog...

Not long ago, a teacher friend of mine, Jennifer, emailed me to announce that she’d just splurged on a new bike for herself. She was excited about the prospect of riding, but hadn't ridden much since she was a kid, and asked if I’d be willing to meet with her somewhere to go over the basics. She knew I love biking and asked if I could “coach” her into getting started.

Afterward, it occurred to us that this coaching/learning experience could be blog-worthy, and so we each have posted based on our own perspectives. Coaching, it turns out, is not quite as intuitive as falling off a bike, but the parallels between our ride together and coaching in general were difficult to ignore:

1. Market yourself – In this case, Jennifer had identified me as someone who could help with her new-found hobby. I’d “advertised” my passion for riding bikes through Facebook, and so she sought me out. As a coach in a building, only rarely will the Jennifers of the world seek us out – most of the time, we have to look for opportunities to coach. We have to advertise our wares – through weekly newsletters sharing proven teaching strategies, responding to emails to offer specific support, or even drop-in “cold calls” visiting classrooms to listen for teacher frustrations. We need to advertise our passions.
2. Let the student guide you – When we met up in the parking lot, I still wasn't sure what Jennifer’s previous biking experience consisted of or what sort of help she wanted from me. But a few quick questions helped me know that it was mainly the shifting she wanted explained. If I’d jumped in at a too basic or overly advanced level, I’d have wasted time for both of us, and likely frustrated her as well. Don’t make assumptions – ask questions.
3. Gradual release is universal – No matter the activity, gradually releasing responsibility while simultaneously increasing difficulty is always the best plan. In our case, we started off on level ground in parking lots, then gradually meandered around the college campus drive before eventually tackling a dirt road with loose patches of gravel and mud puddles, and finally a rooty dirt path through the woods. Each time we stepped up the difficulty I asked Jennifer if she was game, and she always was – she even mastered the steep downhill with a hidden S-curve over a narrow culvert at the bottom. By then she’d gotten the hang of her overall goal for the outing – to master shifting and knowing when to use which gears. If we’d started out the day on that downhill she could have gotten hurt, both in ego and in body, and the prospect of her new bike would have seemed much less inviting. Start slow, and always stay within the learner’s zone of proximal development.
4. Be aware of the curse of knowledge – This idea comes from Chip and Dan Heath’s book “Made to Stick” [link] and has to do with our tendency to forget just how hard it was to learn something once we've mastered it ourselves. I found myself having to think through processes and steps (down-shifting gears before an uphill, using both brakes on a downhill) that I've done so often I’m unconscious of them . As a coach, it can be very easy to make assumptions about prior knowledge – I sometimes think assumptions are the curse of coaching – and so we inadvertently leave out crucial, basic information. In coaching, step back, empathize, and empty yourself of what you know. Make yourself conscious of everything involved.
5. Be a learner – Donald Graves once said, “The teacher is the chief learner in the classroom.” As a coach, I try to model constant learning, mainly because life is more fun that way. On my ride with Jennifer I came away with a bit more knowledge about hybrid bicycles and their surprising capabilities, but I learned much more through our discussions about popular blogs, her possible dissertation topic on social media as professional development, and the surprising fact that she used to race cars! This she told me after the S-curve culvert incident, which totally explains why she didn't crash.

In reality, coaching is simply one adult sharing ideas with another and, ideally, vice versa. In the best coaching situations, both participants get fed. People shouldn't leave the interaction feeling demoralized, angry, or tempted to give up, but rather empowered - and perhaps a little sore around the edges from stretching beyond their normal range of motion.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Teachers, Believe in each other, plz!

I woke up before my alarm this morning (thanks to flappy dachshund ears). Instead of working out I decided to catch up on my dvr'd Oprah. I watched the Life Class she co-hosted with Iyanla Vanzant. The topic was "Terrible Things Women Do to Each Other" - a fantastic episode that was way too short, in my opinion.

It stirred up a brief series of tweets this morning as I thought about the ways in which teachers tear each other down. 

The four main ways in which women treat each other badly as outlined by Iyanla are:

  1. Lying
  2. Betrayal
  3. Gossip
  4. Competition
Any bells ringing for anyone already? They were for me. Working in a school with mostly other women it is easy to fall into these behaviors. It is not as easy to avoid them. Specifically gossip. 


How Iyanla Defines Gossip:

Gossip is when you have a malice of intent or mindless, third-party conversation to someone about someone, something you haven't said to that someone. 

As a fourth/fifth grade teacher for 12 of my 14 years I've had plenty of opportunities to gossip about the teachers before me with regards to my students' struggles. It's easy to make blanket statements about what we perceive is going on in other classrooms. Usually something along the lines of...."Well, you know they don't do diddly-squat in x grade EVER" or "They're fine in x grade, but then when they get to so-and-so's class nothing happens". I've made those statements. Did I attend classes with those struggling students?? No. Did I bother to talk to "last year's" teacher?? No.

Last year I had the amazing luck to teach 1st grade. At first I didn't see how this was lucky because I've always told people "there is NO WAY I'd teach any grade below 3rd!". The one year I spent in 1st grade completely changed my perspective on what goes on in those primary grade classrooms. 

First of all, 1st grade teachers do NOT sit down. Ever. From the moment the first student walks in in the morning until you walk them to their buses in the afternoon you are on. the. move. (A corollary to this law is that 1st grade teachers also do not check their e-mails during the day.)

Second, in my experience at a predominantly Hispanic Title I school, the performance levels of the students are VASTLY different. In upper elementary I had students that ranged from 2nd grade reading level all the way to 8th+, but they could all at least READ a little. It's different when you're faced with students who don't know their letters, numbers, or colors lumped in with students who were already reading and ready to move on to short chapter books. 

I felt guilty all last year because of my inexperience with 1st graders. I'm seasoned enough to know that I wasn't getting it 'quite right', but I persisted. My teammates were a huge support and willingly shared everything they had. And yet...most of the year I felt like a failure. 

And then, this year, I got bumped back to the Land of the Familiar. Fifth grade. Oh how I love this age group. I know them. I have loads of experience with them. I'm in my groove. 

But still, I see those kids I had last year. Every day. I think of them. I think of what I couldn't do for them...despite everything that I DID do for them. I've begged forgiveness of the second grade teachers. I'm sorry they don't have giant, thick folders of documented interventions and monitoring because they should. Honest to goodness I worked with those kids. 

It finally hit me as to why I didn't have those gloriously thick folders with beautiful paperwork. My Tier I instruction included just about every intervention that I could imagine to provide. Whole class. Small groups. One-on-one. Extended time. Extra everything. Floods of books on their levels. Physical breaks. Music. Preferential seating. Elkonin boxes. Phonics. Experiential learning. Pencil and paper. Art. Movement. Manipulatives. Flash cards. 

No wonder I was exhausted all the time. 

My point is...I hope that my peers won't tear me down. I hope that they understand that the lack of a paper trail does not equate a lack of interventions and work. I hope they show me the kind of understanding that I have failed to show my peers in the past.

The reality is that they will...or someone will...eventually question what I did all year. I've been that teacher. I've been the 4th grade teacher sifting through a file and tsk-ing over how previous teachers "didn't do anything to help this kid!". 

But now I know better. Thanks to my first graders. I know that sometimes teachers do everything they can to help. I know that teachers eat, sleep, and breathe for their students even if they don't write it down. Now I know why gossip is so horrible in the school building...I don't want to be the target of the maliciousness. 

As teachers we need to stand up for one another. Believe in each other and know that we're doing the best we can...even if there isn't a paper trail.