I Don’t Spin Plates Anymore.

I can close my eyes and I’m instantly there. My fourth year of teaching. Standing, on the verge of tears, amongst a bustling third grade class during reading block.

Oh yes, I had read and employed everything the Teacher Ed books had said. Create a class contract. Select relevant material. Incentive charts hung on the walls. My classroom felt like a community, and even subs LOVED coming - the kids were wonderful to work with and systems ran seamlessly.

But I felt like I was drowning. 

That feeling pushed me to make a change that has undergirded the past 26 years.

I reflected. I was confused because I LOVED my job. It was a PASSION. I often got to school at 6:30 am and didn’t leave school until well after 6 pm. I often went up to school on weekends. Was I just working too hard? 

Actually yes, but no, working less wasn’t the change that needed to happen. That was a  symptom of a bigger problem.

At the time, I thought engagement, a foundational piece in motivation and learning, meant kids were interested, had good feelings, and were busy. I was (I hate admitting this) really concerned with them “getting it” and “liking school” (which probably meant liking me). 

I realized that I was putting my energy into trying to hold everyone’s learning up like spinning plates. I was the one running around, and they actually DEPENDED on me doing it.

I refocused on my one BIG goal in teaching: students who pursue learning without needing me to motivate them.  At the time, I called them “lifelong learners,” but now I know I wanted students to build autonomy. To reach this goal, I needed to provide learning experiences, tools, and support - not  activities, management, and control.

So what now? How do I do that? What if I can’t change? What if, by giving them more of the reigns, it all goes haywire?

In order to get past my fear, I thought about what was driving my current choices. There’s always a good reason, right?

I thought about how my current systems and routines helped me feel like I was a good teacher. I considered student scores “my scores,” and those were good. I was getting good strokes (again, I’m cringing to admit this), and externally everyone was pleased.

OK, so what I was doing made sense, but I was starting to see how, if I keep connecting myself that way, I am always going to put kids in the dependent role. 

Time to grow.

Again, I thought engagement meant kids were interested, having good feelings, and were busy. I had been assuming that kids couldn’t be engaged with learning if they faced discomfort, ran into roadblocks, or had to sit with unknowns.

Digging that deep still causes me to gasp.

I know, and research shows, that we learn - our brains are the happiest - when they are challenged. They like to puzzle, to problem solve. And we learn by working through things - OURSELVES. 

And the changes began.

Instead of having them line up with their work and wait for a teacher conference, I trained them to be “critical friends”…and they work through and hold each other accountable. I lead them in making resources in notebooks, anchor charts, and mentor texts…tools they can go back to and use when they’re stuck. There are so many ways my classroom has shifted to true student centered learning. Those are just a few.

And now, after 30 years, I have better balance. I don’t CARRY them. They’re working hard, celebrating success…engaged and joyful learners. Me too. I am able to leave school at a reasonable time and not think the world will fall apart. And I’m definitely NOT at school on the weekends.

I also have a new definition of engagement: challenge, discomfort, community, realizations, agency, autonomy…