2021 in the rear view mirror – not the bin fire it could have been

After a 2020 where our worlds were turned upside down, it was hard to predict what 2021 was going to morph into. But, then again, isn’t it always? While the whole globe may not always catch a virus, we never know, on a personal level, what bumps we’ll have in our road in any given year and we just live with an illusion of predictability and forward planning that could be thrown at any moment.

This is not a blog about 2021 being a bin fire. For me, at least, it really wasn’t. Yes, the world still has the COVIDs and all that goes along with it and I recognise that, for many, many people, that brought illness, lost jobs and missing opportunities. For those people, I really am sorry and fervently hope that 2022 can provide something better.

For me, 2021 was actually a year of growth in all sorts of ways:

  • I reacquainted myself with teaching early years after a long time in Years 5/6 and have loved the challenge and reward it has brought. It really has given my teaching self a much needed boost of refreshment and renewal. It has provided ample opportunity to reflect on my practice and learn from and with the 5 and 6 year olds in my class about what they needed and how I could help them access that.
  • My first year of (another) Masters degree has ticked by relatively painlessly but with ample moments of ‘wow’. As much as assignments and deadlines are still not my favourite things, I have relished the access I have to research in my field and dedicated time and brain space to explore it. Remind me of that later this year when I whinge about a full day of teaching then a 2 hour online lecture!
  • Having a colleague at school also doing her Masters has been brilliant – we both understand the excitement of wanting to share, question and consider new ideas and having someone to talk to about that over coffee has added so much to the richness of the experience.
  • I’ve been so fortunate to work with a fabulous team of educators at school who have supported, challenged and encouraged me and each other. Watching and being part of my students’ learning is one thing but being part of a Prep-2 team that learn together and watching our practice evolve throughout the year has been equally exciting.
  • Remote learning wasn’t easy but I took on the challenge and did the best I could. It was a very different experience for me from 2020 as facilitating learning online for Prep/1s is a world apart from Year 4/5/6s however there were some definite golden moments amidst the groundhog-ness of it all. And, despite it all, they really did grow and achieve and I have felt so privileged to be a part of that journey.

And 2022? I’m looking forward to:

  • more exploring, learning and growing in Prep/1. My heart really is in the early years of school and, as much as I enjoyed my years teaching upper primary, this is what I need right now.
  • participating in the Teaching Excellence Program which I’ve been accepted into this year. It’s been an active choice to not pursue Principal class roles but instead to look for opportunities to develop my skills in teaching within the classroom and I am really looking forward to seeing what this new program offers as well as the chance to work with colleagues across sectors.
  • my second year of my Masters, one that will be more focused on research subjects in preparation for a thesis next year. More immersion in current research, more questioning and wondering and learning – yay!
  • another year with the same fabulous team of teachers in Prep-2 and my colleagues in other year levels and roles at our school. When people ask where I teach, I often say ‘Utopia’ because it does feel like that on many days. Teaching is never easy and often tiring but there is nowhere else I’d rather be right now and nothing else I’d rather be doing.

Ongoing conversations and explorations in reading. Not debates.

I’m a little nervous to write this blog post because it’s about a topic that seems to garner such passion and rich discussion. And sometimes, name calling and unprofessional behaviour but let’s put those aside for a moment. I’m talking about how we teach reading, specifically in the early years of schooling.

This has always been an area of interest for me but two things have brought it more to the front this year – I have moved back to a Prep/1 grade and I have started studying for (another) Masters, this time in Literacy. As such, I’ve been fortunate enough to sink my teeth into both the theoretical, in the form of research and the practical, in the form of daily interactions with my delightful students.

From my theoretical musings, I don’t see that the research paints as unequivocal picture as is often claimed. Yes, I’ve read the big 3 reports from the UK, US and Australia that influenced reading policy and have also read many of the studies that underpinned them. All the research I’ve read highlights the complexity of teaching reading and the need for multiple facets to be incorporated to ultimately grow a well rounded, competent reader. None of the research I’ve read clearly defines when, how much and specifically which brand of each of the facets should be introduced to produce the best results. There are lots of quotes floating around that make it sound like it has, but all the research I read clearly indicates that, while certain things show promise and we’ve moved on from our previous understandings of what to focus on, there’s more to learn and discover.

Teaching is complex, whatever the topic. I experience that every day in my classroom. The biggest reason I see for this complexity is that students are humans with all of their richness and diversity. They arrive at school with a backpack full of knowledge and experience, despite having been on the planet for only 5 years. They aren’t empty vessels to be filled, starting at page 1 and moving through required curriculum at a pre-determined speed. Some know lots about letters, sounds, print and texts before they walk through my door. Some can speak multiple languages. Some don’t know much about print literacy but know lots of others things instead. So why I would ever think that a one size fits all approach to teaching them anything was going to be successful and not have unintended consequences (like frustration or boredom) is beyond me.

I do teach phonics explicitly as part of my reading instruction. The amount, frequency and repetition of this depends on the child – I take my cues from them and not from a scripted program. I use a range of tools and draw on my existing and newly discovered professional knowledge to provide what they need, when they need it. If it isn’t working, I try something different.

And therein lies the ultimate thing for me – teaching is part science and part art. I’m absolutely willing and wanting to keep up with research that provides information about what we know currently about effective strategies. However it’s then my job to take that, sit with it, think about it, consider it with all the other research out there about all the other things that affect the humans in my classroom. And there is lots. While researchers are, of necessity, looking at small, discrete areas, as a teacher, I don’t get that luxury. When I teach reading, I have to consider the research on reading and on child development in general and wellbeing and supporting children who have experienced trauma and a myriad of other areas. Teaching – wonderful but complex. The art of teaching is using what we know from the science in all areas and working out how and when to apply it, then checking to see what impact it has had in our context, with our complex humans and all of their needs.

To finish, I think it’s important to acknowledge that whatever the research says, it’s ongoing. All of the research I’ve read highlights, as research tends to, that it doesn’t offer a complete picture and that there are still things that need to be looked into further. There always will be. Humans evolve, learning evolves and the research about what works continues to evolve with it. It’s not ‘decided’. I believe that’s a dangerous position to take as it encourages us to stop looking and questioning. I’ve been excited this year to see how much my practice has changed and grown since I last taught Prep/1 and the results that I’ve seen. I’m more excited to continue on that journey as I continue to explore and question.

Putting the passion back into writing

Misty Adoniou: The power and passion of writing (PETAA Conference 2020)

I’ll happily admit it – I’ve been a Misty fan for a long time. I heard her at a conference years ago and instantly connected with her humanity, her humour and her understanding of the day to day life of classroom teachers. So the idea of her kicking off my Saturday morning with a keynote in a virtual conference was heaven. This is going to be one of the those blogs that is part notes and part thoughts, helping me get my head around what I heard and think about what it looks like in my classroom.

Misty eloquently talked about the power of writing and gave examples of how writing has been such an important and huge space in the tumultuous 2020. Reading other people’s writing and producing our own, even if we don’t feel like ‘writers’ – chalk messages on footpaths, replies to tweets, long message conversations with far off families. Writing is powerful.

I love this reminder, the power of writing in our world, and not in the power to give you an ‘A’ on the test. I need this reminder particularly when I’m bogged down in writing reports and assessing students’ writing against ‘standards’. While it’s a necessary part of my job, it’s the tiniest part and we need to remember that any standard, regardless of how well written, can’t encapsulate what growing as a writer looks like.

So what is the point? Why do we teach children to write and what do we want to get out of it? Misty offered:

  • transforming ourselves
  • transforming others
  • transforming communities
  • transforming systems

Do our students know this? I know I’ve asked students in many classrooms I’ve been in but I’m curious – have I asked them this year? Particularly with their experiences of nearly 6 months of remote learning, what do my students think the point of developing ourselves as writers is? Do they feel powerful?

Misty reminded us that being a strong, powerful and successful writer is about ‘will, skill and thrill’ – perhaps our NAPLAN results are more about lack of thrill and will rather than solely lack of skill?

We need to revisit what skill looks like in writing, without leaving behind the will and the thrill. In particular, we need to not put the ‘will’ on hold while we teach the skill (especially in those students who are ‘behind’) – find what students want to say and want to write about and fill the skills in as we go.

Purpose trumps structure
Practical, transformative writing in our world doesn’t fit predefined text types, yet this isn’t the situation in many classrooms where students are required to fit their text into set boxes. Powerful writers need to understand the different purposes of writing and the range of tools and forms they can use to enact that purpose. Misty gave the example of a job application – part information, part persuasive and part narrative, all needing to read as a portrait of a person worthy of the role being offered.

Craft over output
Instead of having students churn out piece after piece of completed writing, focus on small pieces of writing to allow time and space to consider and practise the craft of writing.

As the keynote ended, I was both appropriately chastised and energised. Chastised that I might have allowed myself to slip into some poor writing teaching habits but with renewed energy to use the bits that have worked and ARE on the right path and continue them with gusto. The sign of a great keynote – a balance of challenge and inspiration. Thanks Misty.

Remote learning 2.0

The last time I had the time and energy to blog, we were on our way back into the classroom after 7 weeks of remote learning. At the time, I didn’t have the energy to think about what the future held or whether we’d be remote learning again any time soon, I was just focused on getting back into the classroom and all that it would entail.

We lasted 3 weeks in the classroom. 3 blissful, hectic weeks.

This term of remote learning, our 2.0, has been different and it deserves its own narrative – 10 weeks down and one more to go as we start Term 4 online.

My learnings and thoughts (which I apologise in advance for if they’re slightly disordered – it’s been a long term and 2 weeks holiday hasn’t quite recharged the batteries!):

  • I’ve learnt a lot. Nothing provides professional learning and growth like being thrown in the deep end and knowing that we were going to be doing this all term certainly was deep. I wanted to get it right or, more accurately, get less wrong. My co-teacher and I have done hours of professional learning, reading and trying things that have pushed us a bit further and a bit further still. And I’m really grateful for that.
  • I’ve focused more on what matters. Last time, the hours were long and exhausting. This time, still long but not as exhausting. I think I developed strategies to manage things more efficiently but I also got better at really working on what mattered and putting the rest in an ‘oh well’ basket. I’ve been grateful for the support of my school and the wider Department of Education in assisting with this by reducing most non-essential things and I’ve tried to match them by being really discriminating myself.
  • I’ve realised I can’t fix it all. This is related to the above point. In remote learning 1.0, I think I tried so hard to make it not like school but equivalent to it. This time around, I’ve tried hard to make it the best it can be and not compare it to school. This has also had to extend to those students we haven’t been able to engage, despite all of our efforts. We are human and can only do so much, particularly when our interactions with students, really, are by invitation only. If they don’t log in or answer the phone, I don’t have a great deal left to get their attention. I don’t want that to sound like I gave up as that’s not at all what happened – I just realised where the boundaries were of what I could do.
  • It’s a team effort. I am fortunate enough to be in a teaching team with 3 of the best educators you could be lucky enough to meet and it has made life so much easier to have them around. We lean on each other when needed and kick each other if the leaning has gone on too long and a kick is needed. I’ve also seen more and more that our students are part of that team and we’re all in it together. They’ve become so good at being supports for each other and, sometimes, us too. Each morning, as they fill out our Google form roll, there’ll be at least one ‘thanks for what you do’ comment that makes it all worthwhile.
  • It’s awful but an adventure at the same time. Our students have been absolute superstars. Even on days they didn’t feel like it, they’d turn up and ‘just keep swimming’. As awful as much of it was though, they weren’t just biding time – they were making the most of whatever we had. We still managed to have fun and frivolity with an end of term movie day, complete with dress ups, decorations and party food. We have continued with our Lego robotics team, via home deliveries of packages of Lego and snacks so we could Webex in, build and party together. Even ordinary days were less ordinary with each day getting a more interesting name and some getting animal mascots (like Turtily tantalising Tuesday and Wacky Wellbeing Wednesday, also known as hump day). We have watched their resilience ebb and flow and know, as much as this has been a difficult time, they’ll still walk away with some happy memories and some rich learning. And so will we.

Lessons of remote learning

It’s been a very interesting Term 2. We’ve settled into remote learning (as much as we can) and have built some routines around it. The exhaustion hasn’t shifted and the hours required to keep up with everything haven’t shortened however there is a light at the end of the tunnel – mere days left until we have all of our children back at school.

With this period of remote learning coming to a close, I wanted to reflect on what I’ve learnt & would like to keep as well as the bits I’m heartily glad to see the back of.

What I want to keep:

  • the fresh spark it’s brought to my teaching. I’m not a teacher who allows myself to get stale anyway but remote teaching has certainly forced me to try out new things, explore different tools and reflect on the success or pitfalls of elements of my practice.
  • the regular, structured feedback to students. I’ve always loved Google Classroom but have never managed to use it as consistently as we’ve done during this time. I’m looking forward to figuring out how to keep using this and other methods to keep up that personalised feedback (although, somehow, without the loooong days that went along with it).
  • embracing the variety of communication methods. I have seen a whole new side to many of my students and, when I thought about why, I think the varied communication methods open to them helped. I have received numerous articulate emails from students, asking clearly for help with different things, telling me what they’ve tried and exactly which part they’re stuck on. That might not sound unusual but these are students who find it hard to find their voice in the day to day noise of a classroom. For others, our small group Webex meetings have been an area of success as the comfort of a screen has helped them find their voice.
  • clarity of instruction. Having students try to follow instructions on our Google Classroom has brought into sharp focus the need for us to really think through what we expect and how those words and sentences might be interpreted by students. We’ve had quite a unique snapshot of how our students see things and, without us there to answer immediate questions, we’ve been given an insight into their problem solving strategies and processes.
  • giving students more choice in how they structure their day. Not sure what this might look like in the classroom but I have really seen the value in allowing students the space to manage their learning and want to continue to give them as much room to do this as possible.

What I’m happy to let go:

  • the ridiculously long days. Like other teachers, I always work longer than the 7.6 hours a day that I’m paid for but I’ve been facing days nearly twice that virtually every day for the last 7 weeks. I couldn’t find a way around it at the time but am happy to go back to ‘merely’ 10 hour days of ‘normal’ schooling.
  • having an exceptionally open classroom. I don’t mind being observed and am happy to have discussions about ups and downs of my lessons however having parents and other adults potentially listening to my virtual lessons has added an extra layer of stress that I won’t be sorry to leave behind. When another teacher or member of leadership observes my practice, they bring to it their educational background with clear expectations and boundaries. When parents hear a snapshot of a lesson as they walk past in their kitchen, it’s not only without an understanding of the pedagogical decisions behind it, it’s also out of context and could easily be interpreted in multiple ways.

Part of this post is also about ensuring I have a record of this time and one of the overwhelming feelings I want to remember is pride. I am immensely proud of myself and my colleagues, within and beyond my school, in how we managed to pull together a term of remote learning that managed to cater for the broad spectrum of students, families and situations we work with while managing our own personal issues.

This last point has been a big one for me that I think has so often been overlooked, particularly in the (very small) number of complaints I’ve had from parents about our offerings not being good enough – teachers are also humans who are experiencing this challenging time in their own ways. Many are also educating their own children at home, have partners who have lost their jobs, are dealing with illness or family difficulties and coping with the general limitations that this pandemic has put on all of us. In short, while pulling off a quite incredible and all encompassing change to our work, we have been there for our students while also managing our own challenging circumstances. So bravo educators – across all year levels and in all sectors, teachers and support staff. Bravo.

Not open. Not closed. And not up to me either way.

There is a lot of discussion at the moment about whether schools should be open or closed and whether the different stances that different states have taken is right or wrong.

Let me be clear – this is not a blog where I share whether I think schools should be open or closed.

I’m a teacher. I’m not an epidemiologist, a medical researcher or a paediatric pandemic expert. My medical knowledge is limited to a first aid certificate (which, at least, is very current). However I would imagine, even for those in such professions, their expertise in this particular arena is a bit limited, having not actually experienced a situation like this before. At best, they’re making educated guesses – definitely educated but also definitely guesses, about rates of infection and disease spread and likely outcomes. They absolutely have much more idea than I do but please let’s not pretend that they know exactly what will happen. In this situation, we’re all learning as we go. So, while it’s wonderful and completely appropriate to be guided by medical advice, let’s not pretend that it’s gospel.

No two countries can agree on the best way to manage anything in this pandemic so it stands to reason that the states of Australia can’t either. I know the theory is that we’re one country but we never really act like it and for good reason – we share lots of commonalities but also have a great deal of diversity and that’s why we have multiple layers of government to manage that. Therefore it also should not come as a surprise to find that states are seeking advice from different sources and are interpreting what they hear in a way that supports their circumstances and population while not being too bogged down in what other states are doing.

Having said that, the most important reason I won’t tell you whether I think schools should be open or closed is because it doesn’t matter – it’s not my decision. I’m an employee of a state Education Department and I do what I’m told. I was told, at the end of Term 1, to prepare for the possibility of remote teaching. So I did. And continued to prepare during school holidays. At the end of the holidays, I was told to begin remotely teaching my students which I’m now doing to the best of my ability. I’ve worked harder in this last 2 weeks than I ever have before, something I didn’t actually think possible. I was also asked if I was willing and able to go on a roster to supervise children of those who are unable to work from home (while continuing to remotely teach the rest) which I have also done and continue to do.

I’m sorry that the Prime Minister, the media and a bunch of uninformed people on social media have given you incorrect information – teachers don’t get to make decisions about opening or closing schools. I know my grade think I’m pretty special but those sorts of decisions are way above my pay grade.

Please also don’t be under any illusions – schools most definitely are not closed. The buildings may have a lot less people in them and my classroom may be empty but the cogs are continuing to turn as furiously as ever and staff continue to work as hard as we can to provide learning, support and some sort of routine in these odd times for our students. When those in authority decide the time is right, whether that’s next week or next term, I’ll be just as eager as my students to walk back through those classroom doors. Until then, can those of you who want to debate it please keep the noise down – I’m trying to teach.


A day in the life of remote teaching

Social and conventional media has been overflowing in the last few days with pictures of kitchen tables covered with assorted books, pens and laptops with accompanying text about how parents are coping with their new role as direct supervisors of their child’s education. (Please note, I didn’t use the term ‘home schooling’ which this blatantly isn’t.)

This is completely understandable – I can imagine how overwhelmed many parents must feel, particularly those who are juggling multiple children and who are attempting to work at home themselves. For some parents, their own experiences of schooling may not have been completely positive which also could be providing an added layer of potential stress.

I thought I’d put out there a snapshot of the other side of the equation, to balance out the narrative and provide a well rounded picture. I will acknowledge that this is only my snapshot and that this looks very different for many colleagues who are attempting to do this while also supervising their own children’s learning – a whole other overflowing kettle of fish.

My first day as a ‘remote learning’ teacher:

  • I manage to enjoy a run before school (almost unheard of on a non-remote learning day) and then breakfast before making it into my home office by 8am.
  • Review the learning material that I’d planned previously and post it to our school remote learning website & to my grade’s Google Classroom.
  • Within 2 minutes of posting to Google Classroom, I had students adding comments and sending emails asking questions about the day’s learning. I reassure them that we’d unpack it all together at our online meeting.
  • Jump on to my online meeting with my team teaching colleague and 40 ish wonderful smiling students. Go through our day’s activities, trying to keep up with questions being thrown at us in the chat and desperately trying to carefully look at each face to read how they were really.
  • Once most of our cherubs leave the meeting to get started on work, we stayed online to work with, reassure and go through the entire thing again with several students who were anxious and unsure and, really, just missed us and needed us to ‘sit’ with them in a virtual sense.
  • Notice that my inbox is pinging and find several emails from staff with various technological issues to be resolved – Webex problems, things to be uploaded to the remote learning website, Seesaw questions, student password queries. Our staff have embraced opportunities to connect and I’m keen to answer them as quickly as possible so that they can get back to the important job – connecting with kids. Put together a ‘how to’ guide for some of the queries I’ve had multiple times to get them through.
  • Meanwhile, my Google Classroom rolls along with lots of comments from students that need replying to – questions about the learning tasks, submission of bits of their learning that they need feedback on and many who just need reassurance that they are on the right track.
  • By now, there are 10 tabs open on Chrome and messages accumulating in Seesaw – this time from 3 parents with issues ranging from Webex technical issues to not having enough books for their child to read. Have to do a search to figure out how to solve the technical issue and made myself a note to go into school and handpick some books for this child.
  • Phone rings – Principal updating me on what’s going on at school, how many students of essential workers have turned up and what the plan is going forward. Discuss some of the children we’re especially worried about and talk through options that might work to support them.
  • Teaching colleague pops up on messenger – we need to look at tomorrow’s planning and tweak it based on what we’re seeing today. What went well in our meeting this morning and what can we change? Who seemed engaged and who was yawning? What do we do about the 10 students who didn’t log on and haven’t replied to emails or messages – how do we make sure they’re ok? We formulate a plan and add phone calls to the list of things to do.
  • Can’t leave the email too long – more have pinged in from students asking for help, advice and reassurance and it’s important to respond quickly so they feel like we’re there with them as much as we can.
  • Take a call from the ES staff member who works in our classroom, planning how she can continue to support the students she works with.
  • Notice that a few students (and parents) are asking about uploading tasks on Google Classroom so create a quick screencast to show them how to do this and upload it. Am grateful that my technology skills are up to this challenge – not sure how I’d be managing right now if they weren’t.
  • Realise it’s now 2pm and I haven’t eaten yet but don’t really have time so rush to the fridge and grab whatever I can find to eat back in my office. Have had some requests from parents to borrow laptops for home learning so I add this to the list – will have to find time amidst all of this to go to school to get them sorted.
  • Afternoon check in with the students to see how they’re going and a message out to parents to thank them for their work, both of which see us receiving further messages that need replying to.
  • Check the washup in Google Classroom – most students have submitted their assignment for the day which now need to be given their final feedback and returned to them, ready for the next day.
  • Webinar to attend ‘after school’ being run by the Department on tools for remote learning – nothing like building the plane while you’re flying it.
  • Still can see comments coming in from the kids and another email from a parent so jump on and reply so that it doesn’t get added to tomorrow’s list.
  • Decide I’d better look at tomorrow’s list to see what the day might look like – lots of tasks that will require me to be at school so I need to time it carefully so that both the tasks and my remote teaching load can both happen.
  • 7pm. My eyes are done from all the screen time, my head is reminding me that I didn’t have enough water today & I’m a whole different kind of exhausted to that which I normally am after a day of teaching. And this is the first week of term. Time to log off, rest up and get ready to do it all again….

The evolution of remote learning or ‘What the heck is it?’

As a student who went to school in country Victoria, remote learning isn’t a new concept although for me it was called ‘distance education’. It involved a pile of material being sent through the post, work done and faxed or posted back and dial in lessons (in an era before the internet) which allowed us to interact with others in our subject. I did 3 out of my 5 Year 12 subjects by distance education and learnt a lot, mostly about my inability to manage my time when unsupervised and how I could complete requirements as quickly and efficiently as possible without actually permanently retaining information or developing skills.

Over the last week, many teaching staff have been spending time thinking about, researching, talking about and planning ‘remote learning’ in case we don’t head back to school after school holidays thanks to coronavirus. A lot of time has been spent discussing and debating what we mean by ‘remote learning’ and what we envisage it looking like.

I’ve really valued the experiences fellow educators have shared on Twitter and documents and suggestions I’ve seen. In the rich information landscape we live in, it’s a potential problem of too much and is a challenge to filter through and work out the best tools when it feels like my inbox is full of educational providers trying to ‘help’ me. Instead of tools and worksheets and schedules, I’ve tried to focus instead on what students need at this time, what myself and my colleagues are capable of providing and what range of needs, backgrounds, support networks and circumstances the students bring.

So here’s what I think is important to consider and think about with remote learning:

  • It’s not school. It’s not even close to school. It won’t look like or sound like school. And that’s ok.
  • It needs to consist of smaller chunks of meaningful, motivating learning that is fun to do. This might mean one or two open ended activities a day rather than 5 strictly timetabled and scripted subjects.
  • Students need a routine but it has to be one that fits and that’s definitely not ‘one size fits all’. We can’t assume all families and all households work like our own so accept and provide flexibility to allow every family to create the routine that works for them. Timetabling specific lesson times could be putting pressure on parents already close to the edge and don’t guarantee any better quality learning than a more open ended approach.
  • It needs to be learning that can be done independently by all learners as we can’t assume that there are adults or older peers at home with unlimited time or patience available to assist. We also can’t assume that adults or carers are all literate, numerate or fluent in ‘eduspeak’ that many of our children are. So keep it simple and make sure it’s something the child won’t need any or much help with.
  • The biggest reason to engage our students in remote learning at this time is to continue some structure and routine for them and keep their active brains ticking over in different ways. Our students’ mental health is being sorely tested and a daily check in with their teacher and some learning activities to engage in could make all the difference, allowing them to focus on something else.
  • It is not the end of the world that we’re not going to meet every curriculum outcome and I think it very unlikely that any child is going to be severely disadvantaged educationally from this disrupted time. Firstly – everyone else is in the same situation and secondly – it’s naive to think learning only happens at school. Learning happens anywhere and everywhere and the learning that happens while sitting on a plastic chair in my classroom is not inherently more valuable than learning that happens anywhere else.
  • Giving kids more screen time isn’t automatically the answer. There are going to be so many times in this that kids turn to a screen – for entertainment, for socialising, to maintain family ties – and yes, there is space there for learning. However it also makes sense to provide as many rich learning opportunities as we can that don’t involve screen time – it’s all about balance.
  • Consider your goals – at the end of this, I hope to have helped my students through it while feeling safe, supported and cared for while also helping them develop some skills in resilience, flexibility, independent learning and time management. I’m not particularly concerned if they haven’t met a particular outcome in the Victorian Curriculum – this is a mere blip in their 13 years of compulsory schooling so there’s plenty of time for that.
  • It’s not school. It’s not even close to school. It won’t look like or sound like school. And that’s ok.IMG_0399

‘For the greater good’

I had strong intentions this year of being more active on my teacher blog. Having just ticked over into my 15th year of teaching, I have as much enthusiasm and passion for this career as I did when I first stepped into the classroom and so many new ideas, big and small that I had on my list for this year. I love having this forum to share them beyond my classrom and, while I haven’t used it much, this year I was coming into it with renewed fervour.

Then the bushfires came. They didn’t directly affect my school….this time. But indirectly they affected all of us and they definitely affected my students, even if none were there at the time. I pushed on with all the things I set out to achieve with my beautiful and energetic grade but found myself working, if at all possible, just a bit harder to ensure their mental health was catered for in challenging times. Children can’t learn if they don’t feel safe and loved and, for many, the bushfires shaved some of their sense of safety with the ‘what if’ questions floating into their heads at random times. In small ways that I didn’t notice at the time, my job was a little harder. It’s always been about more than curriculum planning and assessment but the balance towards wellbeing tipped a little further and put new pressures on me. I was ok with that.

And now the world has got the coughs and sneezes. If I thought my students were troubled before, this has shown me that I didn’t even understand what troubled meant. Sometimes it’s showing itself in obvious ways – students who can’t stop talking about coronavirus or washing their hands compulsively or constantly asking questions. For most others, it’s the less obvious but just as powerful signs that I notice because I see these humans every day – anger that flares when it never used to, inability to remain focused on things that used to bring them joy, friendship bubbles where they’ve never had them before. The effort it’s currently taking to make my classroom that safe space where our shared purpose in growing minds happens is getting harder and the balance has tipped so much further to the wellbeing side.

I don’t want this to be a debate about whether or not to keep schools open – I don’t feel either qualified or experienced in that area to be able to comment. As a Government employee, I’ll do what I’m told – if schools stay open, I’ll keep working as I am and helping my students be their best selves. If schools close, I’ll do what I can to help support learning beyond our classroom walls. I just wanted to let those outside of teaching in to see what our days look like right now.

This week is one of the longest I’ve experienced in my education career with each day of uncertainty and change feeling like a week. We are trying to keep things normal and our routines stable in an education system where everything is changing – excursions and camps going ahead one day then cancelled the next, sports days and assemblies cancelled, all the things our students were looking forward to taken away. Our students run around at playtime looking like life ticks on normally but teachers and ES staff are working hard behind the scenes to smooth over the cracks, support and encourage students who are feeling anxious, reassure those who have absorbed incorrect messages from the media and try to inject some fun, even when we’re not feeling much like it ourselves. I have colleagues who worry about their own health and that of their loved ones, unable to go into lockdown ourselves as we’re needed to care for our students who may, as time goes on, unknowingly pass the virus on to their teachers and school staff. Social distancing in a primary school may as well be something in one of the fantasy stories they write – it can’t happen. And as for hand washing? We try, we really do but children of all ages have a complete inability to keep their hands out of…well, anywhere and anything.

None of us want a big deal made and most are willing to do whatever is deemed necessary to get through this as painlessly as we can. ‘For the greater good’ and all that. No one would argue that health care workers aren’t putting in long hours in demanding conditions and at great risk to their own health as part of their contribution to containment efforts. While not in the front line in a medical sense, school staff are under pressure in different ways, trying to provide learning for those at school as well as those who’ve opted to stay home, managing the mental health of our students (and helping our colleagues) while also dealing with our own stress and anxiety like that which every other adult is feeling. A little acknowledgement, particularly from leaders who are talking about whether or not to close schools, that children aren’t alone in those buildings and aren’t those most at risk in this scenario would go a long way towards making us feel like the significant contribution and risk we’re taking is being seen and appreciated.

Growing teachers

I have been fortunate this year to mentor a variety of pre-service teachers in my classroom. Yes, I genuinely mean ‘fortunate’ because the experience is one I’m grateful for, despite the undisputable extra work that it adds. As well as being an opportunity to support and influence the next generation of teachers, it also allows me to see my own teaching through their eyes. It has equally made me reflect on the experiences I had as a pre-service teacher and how they helped me grow into the teacher I am.

One of the most powerful things we can do for our pre-service teachers is give them room – to try things, to flounder a bit, to explore their interests and skills (as well as the things that make them uncomfortable), to make mistakes, to figure out how to fix them. I always hope my pre-service teachers will arrive full of ideas, enthusiasm and an eagerness to jump in and try things. If they don’t, I encourage them with gentle-ish nudges and reminders that this is a safe space with my support for them to work on honing their teaching craft. I reassure them that I don’t expect perfect lessons (not from them or myself) but I expect lessons where they try things and then reflect on their successes and next areas of learning. As much as I want to, I try not to help them out too soon when things go wrong, just give them space and ask the questions that might help them dig their way out of the hole themselves.

We also owe it to our pre-service teachers to give them useful, honest feedback that helps them recognise their strengths and be realistic about the areas they need to develop. Whenever I’m having conversations that involve feedback for my pre-service teachers, I think of how I’ll feel if they end up being a colleague in a couple of years and what support and guidance I’ll wish they’d been given at this crucial point in their career. Telling a pre-service teacher that their tone when speaking to a child contributed to the child’s reaction is the perfect teaching moment, especially when thinking how this may help them in the future and what strategies they can use to change their thinking and behaviours before they become entrenched.

I’m also a firm believer that we need to help our pre-service teachers see how their learning at university provides a solid foundation on which to build their teaching, rather than teaching rounds and university being two separate and distinct sets of learning. I get frustrated when I hear teachers comment that university wasn’t helpful and that they learnt everything they needed once they started teaching. Obviously I’ve only been through one teaching degree so I can’t comment on the preparation from every university but I can say I felt as prepared as I could be. Of course there were things that I didn’t know and my first few years of teaching were the most intense period of induction but I felt like the learning I’d done at university gave me a solid foundation and an understanding of the bigger picture of education into which my day to day teaching fitted. My teaching rounds had helped bridge the gap for me while also giving me access to some outstanding mentors from whom I soaked up every bit of knowledge, experience and guidance I could.

I can only hope that I am providing as successful and useful an experience for my pre-service teachers as I was lucky enough to receive on my teaching rounds and I look forward to continuing to strive to be an effective mentor to our growing teachers.

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