Why am I writing this personal entry? Well, it is not an attempt to gain any sympathy. It attempts to show what is possible if a clear intention and goal serve the learner's needs. In May of 2022 just near the end of another fantastic school year, I do not remember what happened. But, I was unable to finish the school year and was unable to teach the following year. Why? On May 21st, 2022, I fell down a flight of 16 stairs (luckily carpeted) from the 2nd to 1st story of our home. I was found at the bottom of the stairs. I was found foaming at the mouth. This would lead to a 2-month hospital stay which included an induced coma because my seizures would not stop, several rounds of lumbar punctures, and relearning basic physical movements like something as simple as being able to roll in the hospital bed. Simply put, when I was admitted to the hospital, I was diagnosed as being “critically ill.” Please take a moment and read those words: critically ill. They are not terms that are
"Innovation Ecosystem: the culture, values, vision, and policies that influence the learning context and the development of desired knowledge, skills, and mindsets."
Martin, Katie. Learner-Centered Innovation: Spark Curiosity, Ignite Passion, and Unleash Genius (Kindle Locations 820-821). IMPress, LP. Kindle Edition.
An ecosystem is a combination of many factors that create it but also the many pressure that drive change within it. Those pressure can come from students, peers, and administration. Have you ever heard distant rumblings about what’s going on in your classroom and how others (at any level) may not think it’s not the way it should be done? How does these distant rumblings affect you?
I can think of a few situations in which this has happened to me. But, I’d like to focus on one specifically. When I first started teaching physics, I had been teaching our lower general science course for a few years. It was a course with a significant number of students with IEPs. That gave us the latitude (and legal responsibility) to change the format of the classwork and assessments to meet the needs of struggling learners. We quickly discovered that the changes made for a specific population were going a long way to benefit all learners, not simply those with identified learning disabilities.
So when I “moved up” to physics, which was then a Junior and Senior course, I looked to implement some of the strategies I found useful in the freshman general science course. This didn’t go over well with the other physics teachers, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I never heard this to my face, it was more second hand. Specifically, it was over my test retake policy (there were previously no retakes in physics) and use of a formula sheet on unit assessments (previously formulas were expected to be memorized). I could write a book about why I pushed for these, but this is not the post for that.
Did we have an ecosystem which made us feel free to share what we were doing in our classrooms? No.
Did we have an ecosystem in which we were free to defend our thoughts on instruction? Well, I remember the heated debates between two veteran science teachers about what the course should follow breadth or depth. And as a newbie, I felt that I was in no position to enter this conversation. At the end of these conversations, no progress would be made and we’d each end up still in our own silos.
To ensure that I was ok in my thinking and wouldn’t be reprimanded for giving retake opportunities, I approached my principal. I told him about my beliefs and my grading practices. He said he would back me up 100% if anyone had any objections to the way I assessed my students. Later that year, he invited me to a 2 day workshop by the Marzano Institute about assessment practices. A couple of years later he would nominate me to be a part of the uncommittee process in our district.
In my district’s uncommittee program, each year a number of teachers were invited to put forth proposals defining what their ideal learning environment would be and what they would need to get there. As a part of the first uncommittee, I was amazed to be asked this question as an opportunity rather than a mandate. Rather than looking for a series of buzzwords strung together, the district leadership was looking for well researched and actionable steps. That first year, all proposals were fully funded.
Over time, the uncommittee process morphed. As new cohorts went through the process, some became more focused on the stuff as opposed to the opportunity to change classroom practice. I don’t want to make this sound universal, but I think it lost some of its luster as it became something staff were asked (not required) to do rather than being invited to. Being a part of the process began to feel like an eventuality rather than an opportunity.
There is a fine balance in education between having the opportunity to change and being given a mandate to change. Is it better to be in an environment where you can test boundaries and only know that you are ok if you ask, or do we want to be given that invitation to change? But when does that invitation begin to feel like it’s a mandate? When does that hands off approach by administration begin to feel like a lack of vision or concern for what is happening in our classrooms?
Like any ecosystem, there is always a process of finding balance and new balance when there are fluctuations in our school. But unlike organisms in the wild, we have the ability to adapt to view large scale shifts in our surroundings and change to them. As a classroom teacher, I often simply focus on changes in my classroom environment. I fail to realize that I am part of a greater ecosystem that I affect, affected by, and can effect change in.
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