To my comrades...

    Another academic year is right around the corner.  Some of us are starting this week, some next, the following, and so on.  But we all know it's coming.  You may be dreading the end of your family time, rest time, vacation time, or you may be anxiously awaiting this next year because of the myriad of ideas that you are ready to implement in your classroom.

   I'm pretty excited, probably mostly due to my new role.  But then again, I'm usually pretty enthusiastic about returning to a new school year.  I normally have thought of something (or some things) the year before or during the summer that I want to try, so I'm ready to get to it.  I'm a bit of a dreamer.  I think of these wonderful ideas about how to really get students thinking and participating and how to establish a rapport with them as quickly as possible to get some real productivity going.  Some of the ideas are unconventional compared to the norm, but it usually doesn't bother me.  With the population I've worked, I've thought outside of the box for a long time.  I used to come back with these ideas, and then hit an unseen brick wall where my intentions take a pretty big hit.  This formidable foe to my creativity is fear.  Now I don't mean some kind of sudden, crippling feeling.  It's more like the slow apprehension that builds during the school year as time passes on, and you fall behind in your lesson plans, or aren't on pace with your peers.  Those new ideas seem like they could be working, but not at a speedy pace.  You start to get nervous when work conversations and PLC discussions come around to what you're doing, and then you start to weigh the importance of your new practices compared to the content you have to cover for the *gasp* end of year test.  And when it comes down to it, you sometimes give them up, or loosen up on the fidelity of their practice.  If this has happened to you, read on, because this post is for you.

    Now obviously we can't change the system in which we teach.  We can't help that we are held to standardized tests (not getting into that on this post).  It seems fairly natural that when you have a built-in end goal of your students showing proficiency on a test, that it ends up feeling like priority number one.  And so when data starts rolling in, you start comparing numbers and the reluctant sense of urgency gets stronger.  And it doesn't help that so many people are relying on those test scores, does it?  Parents, administration, district leaders, legislators, the list goes on and on, and it's hard to fault them, because those test scores have been deemed the "mark" of proficiency and success.  But, (and it's a big but), they aren't in your room every day.  You are the teacher in the room.  You are with your students every day for a year.  You are the one who sees their strengths and weaknesses.  You are the one who sees the big picture and knows what they really need to know in order to be productive, knowledgeable citizens and respectable people.  Because others aren't there, or have other priorities they have to keep in mind, there are some things that you don't hear often enough.  So I'm going to make sure you hear/read them today.



     First of all, thank you for wanting to know your kids so well and wanting to do what is best for them.  Thank you for staying in a field where you are not always respected and valued enough, because you see the importance of our next generations' knowledge and success.  You are appreciated more than anyone is ever going to say, and you'll see that appreciation in notes and conversations from students, parents, and colleagues.

    Secondly, the test is only one assessment for one day of yours and the students' lives.  When it's done, it's over.  I know you know this, but I want to tell you that one day of testing is not going to override or change the skillsets you have developed in your students over the year.  You've made a massive change in them that one test score (even if it's awful) can't erase.

    And finally, as you are preparing and *hopefully* getting excited about the coming year and your new ideas for your class, let me tell you this, and it's really important: it's okay.  It is okay if you decide that working on perseverance is more important than one small piece of a huge curriculum.  It's okay if you teach math, but realize that your kids can't read and it's making it hard for them, so you work on that too.  It's okay if you feel like making experiences for the kids to learn is more important than chapters in a textbook or slides on a presentation.  It is okay for you to think of the whole student instead of just the small piece of that student that enters your room daily.

    

We often feel like we don't have enough time to help the students who came to us with gaps in their knowledge because we have too much to teach them.  We get so frustrated that they don't have the prerequisite skills they need, and we stew in that throughout the year.  But it's okay to refuse to do that.  Why not work on filling those gaps, especially if they can't move forward without them?  It's okay to say that you are not going to let a student pass through your class for a year without helping them catch up.

     That's it.  I don't think we are ever told enough that it's okay to change priorities and teach our kids what they need to know for the future.  But I'm telling you, it absolutely is.  Not only is it okay, it's imperative.  You have no idea where your students will go after they have you.  But you can help make sure they are ready for wherever they end up.