5 Minutes Uninterrupted

The image above is used under a Creative Commons attribution license - credit goes to the creator, Live Life Happy, (c) June 25, 2012 and can be found at https://www.flickr.com/photos/deeplifequotes/7440757078 No changes were made to the original and this is for non-commercial use. The image contains the words "The most precious gift you can give someone is the gift of your TIME and ATTENTION". 

I have 19 students so far in my Grade 6-7 class. I was fortunate enough to consult their teachers from last year to gather some insights on how I can best serve them. I really appreciated how Lisa Daley and Brenda Kim took time to share their knowledge about the students that they led last year. A common refrain was that many students did not like to ask for help, even when it was needed and even when they realized they were floundering. I had dozens and dozens of questions as I rapidly prepared for my new teaching assignment, and a huge one was how I was to offer and provide assistance to students who were embarrassed or afraid to ask for it. 

I figured out a process that would destigmatize and normalize individualized teacher-student conversations. I haven't given it an official name yet, but I alternate between calling it "Exclusive Time" or "Uninterrupted Individual Time" or just "The 5 Minutes". I introduced it to my students like this: I told them that I wanted to conduct an experiment. I realized after the first few days of school together that it was possible for me to not actually have a meaningful interchange with a student beyond just a question and short answer unless I monitored myself. I declared that I wanted to ensure that I spent 5 minutes (meaningful moments) with each student. I asked them how long it would take for me to do this with everyone in the class and some replied that it would be nearly 100 minutes (5 minutes x almost 20 students). I pointed out that this would be nearly impossible to accomplish in a single day, so my goal was to spread out these "appointments" over the course of a week. Every student would receive 5 minutes of exclusive, uninterrupted, personal time to talk with the teacher.

Some students did not like this idea at all.

"What do we talk about?"

"Do we HAVE to do it?"

I reassured them that they could decide what the topic or focus of our conversation would be, and I insisted that everyone had to have a turn. I made myself a chart on paper, half-hidden behind the interactive white board, and I wrote a 5 beside a student's name after I'd have a chat. I used my cell phone as a timer and I would declare to the class that I was "off-limits" when I was about to have one of these talks.

I met my goal. I had private, uninterrupted conversations with every single student in my class. At the end, even the skeptical, reluctant students were comfortable. Some began their allotted time by stating "I don't know what to say". They were uneasy because they had never done something like this with a teacher before, but casual questions that weren't meant to be interrogations often jump-started the conversations.

What did we talk about? Once again, I want to respect the privacy of my students, so I can't go into detail. Some asked me questions about what this school year will be like. Some used the time to express their concerns. Some shared their passions and pastimes - for example, I discovered I have several gamers in the class. Some talked about their friends. Some asked for help with current assignments. A few asked when they could have their second 5-minute exclusive time. Many expressed astonishment that the five minutes went by so quickly.

I plan to keep doing this every week. It's said that we make time for the things that are important and if I claim that building positive relationships with my students are key, then I need to prove it by devoting time to it.

Appreciations and Accessories

 Alternate title: Affirmations and Expenses

Today's blog post can't be too long. I have too many things to do in my new role as the Grade 6-7 teacher to what-started-as-24-but-changed-to-21-and-possibly-19 students. I will also need to be very selective in what and how I write this blog in the near future. I must respect the privacy of my students. 

There are just too many people to thank for all the kind words, supportive texts, DMs and emails that have been sent my way over the past two weeks. People are so encouraging and understanding. I've had so many offers of pre-designed units and lesson ideas and files curated and collected by some talented teachers that, as my friend Wendy Burch Jones has commented to me, it is almost overwhelming. I know something about myself as an educator, which I actually said in a conversation (that turned out to be an interview) - I'm like a dog; I need to pee all over a lesson plan to mark it and make it mine. That's a good and a bad trait - it would be a lot simpler if I'd be willing to follow a script, with less preparation and more guaranteed results ... but if teaching was like movie-making, I'm more of a screenwriter/method actor than just a thespian that simply shows up and delivers lines. Having said that, I really liked the activity guidelines in This Book Is Anti-Racist (it's our non-fiction read-aloud) as well as the teaching suggestions from the TDSB's Grade 6-8 Integrated Unit with an Inquiry Focus. Who wrote that resource? They need some serious thanking themselves!

The appreciations that matter most right now are ones I didn't expect to receive - from the students and parents/guardians/caregivers of Room 206. I sent a welcome letter/email to the families, based on the one sent by my teaching "partner" (we can't be partners in the truest sense because we have to stay apart, but she helps me so much with answering my questions). I got a lovely quick note from a student who thanked me for providing embedded translations in my note so her mother could understand. I also received a lengthy letter from another student, filled with questions but also with such warmth and unexpected encouragement. (I've obtained permission from her to include the first little bit of her letter here on the blog.) We had staggered entry this week and I sent some photos of my Grade 7s on their first day of school; 40% of the parents wrote back with thanks for the visuals. The Homework survey was also well-received by parents - the students were less-than-thrilled that their parents were consulted because, in their opinions, their parents are going to request that there be a lot of homework!

The students have also boosted my spirits in unexpected ways. To reduce contact, I've given students all of their individual set of supplies, including some whiteboard marker bags/erasers that I sewed myself - thanks Kiersten McBurney, aka @mrsmcb_edu on Twitter for the excellent idea!

Whiteboard kits are ready to go! Ss can use the clip to turn the whiteboard into a clipboard, the sock on a ring acts as a wipe & holds the marker, & their Plickers card is held down on the back. Hoping this helps us keep track of our materials when we take our learning outside! pic.twitter.com/OCIJnqGPB1

— Kiersten McBurney (@mrsmcb_edu) September 10, 2020

As you might expect, the students doodle on the whiteboards. What I didn't expect was that they'd doodle *about* me. (There was another board that was more specific about the student's feelings about me, but I felt like it intruded on their privacy too much to share here. This sample doesn't reveal too much about the student except that he/she/they like to do shadow lettering.)

This leads me to the second portion of my blog title - there are so many accessories to assemble, and it can get somewhat expensive! I've spent a lot already on supplies and items that will make my teaching assignment easier. I know we are told not to spend our own money but I cannot wait for the distribution centre to ship items that I required ASAP. 

Some of these items weren't technically a requirement but were helpful for making people feel valued and not forgotten.

At this point, I want to make a shout-out to all (and trust me, there are MANY of them) teachers who, whether unwillingly or by choice, are teaching virtually this year. In my school board, they are only now discovering what grades they are teaching and how many students they will have. (This information only comes from them checking their Brightspace "class shells" and finding them pre-populated with student names.) These teachers are the "forgotten ones" - cast aside and asked to wait in limbo while those fortunate enough to obtain an in-person position quickly established entry protocols, recess routines, cohort groupings, supervision schedules, and other re-opening details. As I wrote last week, I found out my teaching assignment on Thursday, September 10. That gave me 7 days to assemble my classroom, contact families, and prepare lessons. Virtual teachers find out Saturday, September 19 (if they are lucky) and begin teaching on Tuesday, September 22 - with only 4 days notice or less. They have no access to OSRs (Ontario Student Records - they indicate if a student needs accommodations or modifications, as well as their academic history) or even home phone numbers to call the parents to introduce themselves. These virtual teachers weren't even provided with much guidelines for what to do prior to this point in time. The first day of in-person school was a difficult day for many of these teachers, who ached to return to the jobs they love. Everyone, from the virtual teachers sadly following Brightspace tutorials in their empty classrooms, to the in-person teachers cautiously explaining all the new requirements to their students, to the caretakers, administrators and office assistants, received a little treat.

What else have I bought? I've purchased fabric to make the whiteboard bags/erasers, the storage bins with lids for the students to contain their supplies, rulers that won't snap like the regular school ones do, books that I can use for my language program, and satchels that can hold my hand sanitizer when I meet my students outside. I was very lucky that Dean Roberts gifted me with his voice amplification system - that's been the best investment yet, and it was free for me due to the generosity of a colleague and friend, who I am going to miss very much. Instructing while wearing a mask and a face shield makes my voice quiet and muffled, so the microphone helps a lot.

This is another selfie I took with my new paraphernalia added to my outfit. (Since this photo, I added the phone holder lanyard I got as ECOO swag a number of years ago, because my phone can't fit in the satchel.) It makes me neck/shoulders/temples tired to have so many things attached or hanging, but I really need my hands free to take attendance (with gloved hands) or complete other tasks. You can also see in the background the storage container and a few of the whiteboard bags. (I bought whiteboards before but Dean again provided me with a class set I chose to use.) 

Quick selfie on my first day with students - voice and feet are tired and brain is whirling but heart is full pic.twitter.com/kzokg2Wg4n

— Diana Maliszewski (@MzMollyTL) September 16, 2020

This post is not a "humble brag". This post lists the appreciations I've received but also extends those appreciations back to the givers - you have no idea how important those comments have been to me as a person and as a teacher. This post is not intended to itemize all the personal funds I've spent to elicit sympathy; it's an indication that there's so much more "stuff" needed to do this job safely and "effectively" (more on that word hopefully next week). Best wishes to all educators on this weird and uncharted journey!

Rollercoaster

 "Write what you feel. You can edit afterwards."

This was my husband's advice to me, after I vocalized my angst at approaching this week's blog post. Since 2009, I collect my thoughts and reflections that relate to education here. This past week has been a week unlike any other in my career. 

Last week's blog was a very deliberate "just the facts, ma'am" sort of analysis. It needed to be, and that post was the cornerstone to what evolved into a small but growing reaction to the news about school libraries in Toronto. Wendy Burch Jones appeared on CBC Metro Morning on September 9 to discuss the issue. Quill and Quire ran an article about the issue on September 10, written by Shanda Deziel. Tanya Mok, from BlogTO, covered the topic on September 12 - the lead image for that article comes from my library.

That's not the complete story. That ignores much of the inner turmoil I've felt as we've careened through these last days before we finally see students and start the 2020-21 school year. I'm one of the lucky ones. I was told about my new teaching assignment on Thursday, September 10. There are still educators out there that have no idea what they are teaching. I'm also fortunate because I will get to teach in-person, at the site where I've been on staff since 2004. I know the students that I will be with this year. Last Friday afternoon, I phoned the families to let them know that I will be their child's classroom teacher. Most of the responses were pretty positive, albeit surprised. It's quite a change, because for what seems like forever, I've been their teacher-librarian.

This is so hard. I really worried about making my feelings so transparent. I don't want my students to think that I don't want to be with them. I do, but I'm also heartbroken, and nervous, and uncertain.

I have been a teacher-librarian for my entire career. Back when I started in 1997, my first full-time contract position was split - I was a 0.5 Grade 4-5 classroom teacher in the morning and a 0.5 teacher-librarian in the afternoon. I have always been a teacher-librarian. It is a part of my identity. I feel as if something has been ripped away from me. I've already gone over how detrimental (or, I'll say it here, devastating) the removal of school libraries will be to students and to teachers. It's earth-shaking to the teacher-librarians and other school library professionals that staff them.

I've been told I'm a good teacher. My students are in capable hands. I have a wonderful support network. I am beyond blessed that I will have the Grade 7-8 teacher, and the HSP/SERT/MART teacher to be my guides.

That still doesn't alleviate the pockets of panic that punctuate random moments of my days, as realization hits me like a punch in the gut. The last (and only) time I taught intermediate math on my own to a group of students that I was entirely responsible for was in 2004. The math curriculum has completely been revamped.  I am totally unfamiliar with what is to be covered in math. My colleagues have provided me with a tower of text books but I start to sweat whenever I glance at it. There's so much to know and so little time. 

Math is one of my three big concerns. Marking is my second worry. This is a cross-division assignment, which complicates matters (i.e. social studies in Grade 6 vs history and geography in Grade 7). The intermediate grades are notoriously heavy on assessment. I've seen the intermediate division teachers at my school lug home armloads of assignments to assess. I'm a slow marker on regular days and I fear that my evenings and weekends will be consumed with evaluations.

My third preoccupation is managing the flow of the day with the same group of students. For 24 years, I'm used to planning in 40 minute chunks and seeing students for a brief time and then sending them back to their home room. I've contributed to writing IEPs as a teacher-librarian, but never written one as the primary author. I don't know how to administer traditional formative assessments like the CASI test. (Thanks to Tracy Halliday for giving me a revolutionary perspective on this - I'm trying not to cause too much disruption but I hope I might be able to take your advice!) I've never attended an IPRC (unless it was as a parent for my own child). There are so many responsibilities that a classroom teacher has that I have not had to think about before, but now I must juggle.

Self-doubt is real, and compounded by the fact that I can't rely on some of my tried-and-true activities because of stupid COVID. One of my favourite community-building activities is to play 3-Ball Pass. Can we still play it, as long as we wear gloves? We are being so cautious at my school. We've spread out the desks as best as we can in our rooms. We have marked traffic patterns in the halls and spray-painted dots on the pavement outside to show where students stand in line to enter the building. xxx It is also super-challenging to see, hear and speak properly while wearing the face shield and the face masks.

As if there isn't enough to fret about, I'm also grieving what I feel is the usurpation of our fantastic Grade 6-7 teacher. I'm taking his room and in my heart it is still his room, not mine. He would know how to deliver this curriculum, because he's done it before. Due to seniority, I'm in and he's out. I feel awful about this.

While all of this is going on, I'm also trying my best to support my fellow teacher-librarians who are floundering. Confidence in times of uncertainty draws people to individuals like moths to a flame. I realize that I can keep a pretty level head in times of crisis and exude calm even though inside I may be not as composed. (Ask me about my first day of class when I took my Mentoring AQ.) I may not know about what it means to be a Grade 6-7 teacher, but I do know how to be a teacher-librarian and have been keeping abreast of the latest developments regarding school library decisions, so people turn to me because it looks like I have answers. That's not 100% true, but I can often provide advice when I cannot offer answers.

In 2016, I wrote about stress on my blog. I've become better at noticing the signs. Lately, stress responses manifest in certain new ways. In addition to running my fingers through my hair, I massage my hands a lot. Unlike others who are suffering from insomnia, I take long naps - partly because I'm exhausted, and partly because being unconscious means I don't have to deal with the thoughts zinging through my head. I giggle nervously when I speak, and sigh a lot. I ask my son, daughter, and husband for more hugs than usual. I have more headaches, and there's tension in my neck. 

I hear on Twitter from teachers in school boards that have already resumed classes that it will get better. We will rejoice in reconnecting and somehow forge new ways of learning and being together despite all these health and safety protocols. I hope it's true. In the meantime, I thank Queen's University for giving me a project that has kept me busy but stable, Animal Crossing New Horizons for allowing me to have fun and maintain a sense of order and predictability, and my family, friends and colleagues for reaching out, even when some of them are hurting or involved with their own personal problems. 

No School Libraries

 Let's get straight to the point - in elementary schools in the largest school board in Canada, the library allocation has been removed.

I'm trying to use terms that are factual and are neither hyperbolic nor emotionally manipulative.

I'm also working very hard to describe the impact this decision will have on others, not just me (a teacher-librarian).

This is difficult to do on many levels. My OAC English teacher once told our class that it is much more understandable for an audience to grasp the awful aspects of a situation if the story is told from one individual's perspective, instead of attempting to describe the magnitude of the situation for hundreds of thousands of people. It'd be easy for me to talk about how this will impact me - but it's not about me. It's not about teacher-librarians; it's about school libraries.

Another challenge is to find the right analogy to help those who are not in education understand the ramifications. This is where I wish I could borrow the brain of Jenn Apgar, who is so skilled at coining the perfect allegory. I don't want to attempt to say it's like a Kia dealership employee having to sell Jeeps and being expected to learn the ins and outs of these new vehicles in a week. I don't want to compare it to a heart surgeon who must transition to being a cancer specialist - because I don't know how those professions work, and I don't want to be presumptuous and claim that the comparisons are legitimate. Too many individuals do this, including our own premier who has complained that grocery store employees "stepped up" and teachers need to do the same.

I got a nail in my tire on Friday (the day I learned about this turn of events). Could that work as a metaphor? Or is it just "bad things happen in sets"?

So, despite these obstacles, let me try to explain why eliminating the allocation is extremely detrimental.

As I write this post, the day before Labour Day, school personnel will have less than a week to create classes, assign teachers to classes, design timetables and schedules, and devise the particulars to their COVID protocols (e.g. fire drills, entry procedures, recess routines, lunch duties, bathroom visits, hallway flow, etc.). Many educators will be moving to teaching virtually or teaching a class that was not their original assignment. Who might help them find resources to support their students? Usually educators turn to teacher-librarians and other school library professionals. No school library staffing means no support for classroom instructors. It's a shame because teacher-librarians and other school library professionals were ideal people to help with these transitions and changes, because of their training in digital tools, copyright compliance, literacy, and collaboration skills. The changes were supposed to reduce sizes. In many cases, class sizes have not become smaller. Instead we have a lot of stressed educators uncertain about who or what they are teaching, and no one officially to help them out with their mental health and well-being or any curriculum planning.

My board shared a fantastic document called "Library Learning Commons: Considerations for September 2020 - Teacher-Librarians, Library Collections, Library Spaces" and I thank the individuals who created it. It is extremely thorough in considering all the logistics related to accessing books and resources for learning, the physical library space, and how the teacher-librarian can work within the new realities of programming/support/leadership in a school that must take COVID into consideration. The great thing about this document is that it provided several options for operations, understanding that there is no one set formula that will work for every school community. The key, however, is to have designated school library professionals to ensure Health and Safety Protocols are followed. Spaces will become unsafe if they are not adequately staffed.

What about the students? Book exchange and instruction was going to be possible, albeit altered, both for in-school learning and online or remote learning. The document called "Strategies for Schools: Student Borrowing and Return of Books from School Libraries" outlined several possibilities - but none of this is possible without a school library professional. We can't have volunteers or students run the school libraries - it's unfair and unwise.

Losing school library staffing in elementary schools will have a huge impact on the Canadian publishing industry, vendors, authors, and other literary agents. I will not be able to run the Ontario Library Association's Forest of Reading programs if I am required to teach a class of students. I will not be able to research, examine, and purchase new resources. I will not be able to book author visits, even remote ones, when my priority is the group of learners I must care for and educate, especially with a curriculum new to me.

Let me make a few things clear. I am not angry at administrators. (On the contrary, I feel terrible for principals who are faced with horrible decisions to make.) I am disappointed but not furious with my school board (or other boards that have made this decision). Other school boards have been able to arrange to retain their school library professionals (such as Peel DSB) and I am not clear why this wasn't possible to mimic elsewhere. I am also not dismissing the other incredible programs that exist - e.g. music education. (My school's music teacher is devastated. So much joy comes from making music, from singing, from putting on performances - and all of these elements have been eliminated. I wrote about the positive mental health benefits to music in my blog a few weeks ago.) The difference, I contend, is that the position of a school library profession was not only possible to uphold in this environment, but more necessary than ever because of our current COVID environment.

I'll share some of the reactions I've seen on social media to this news ...

Without Library Learning Commons, our students lose so many viewpoints on the world, ways of learning, and countless tools to support their learning - and well-being. I am so sad to hear this.

— Jimmy Steele (@broadwayprofe) September 5, 2020

A school librarian is an educator who connects our school to the best resources in our library & online. They build a collection of engaging & thoughtful learning materials for our community. They are tech experts who team teach with staff & students. We need teacher-librarians. https://t.co/DmtwEXb1j3

— Lesley Pysklywec (@KinderclassNPS) September 6, 2020

For many years as a teacher-librarian -- besides helping students & staff w/ print & electronic resources -- I've tried also to curate a space that is a centre for equity and human rights. Where children see themselves & their families. I feel the loss of school libraries deeply.

— Gordon Nore (@gordonnore) September 6, 2020

We will be fine, but as noted by many, it is a blow to the love of reading, literacy/tech initiatives, mental health, equity and school community building to not staff (and close) school library hubs. Students will be so disappointed. https://t.co/Flft0kmsj2

— Diana Will Stork (@TLWillStork) September 5, 2020

This decision is felt by the school community. Students, staff & parents will miss access to print resources, the teacher librarian’s insight & a space to meet, to collaborate and to read. #libraries

— Lisa Lewis (@MmeLisa_Lewis) September 5, 2020

Still trying to wrap my head around it...the impact is quite far reaching even beyond our own school communities (as I discussed with @scholasticCDA yesterday when I cancelled my book fair). It’s a true shame. Hugs to you- know you’re strong, but we all need support through this.

— Jen Byrne (@jenniferkbyrne) September 5, 2020

So disappointed, gutted, sad and angry. This doesn’t only impact Teacher-Librarians it impacts all students because it means no more access to print resources for the whole school community. 😔

— Larissa Aradj, OCT (@MrsGeekChic) September 5, 2020

So, now what? As tempting as it is to try and make everyone happy by keeping the school library collection open and available, this just isn't possible. 

I'm relieved to hear that people are not taking this news lightly. Different groups are organizing and attempting to make it loud and clear that they have serious objections to this plan. I do not want to reveal anything that I do not have permission to share. I will update the blog if/when I am allowed to share more information about these efforts.

And I want to thank my friends and colleagues who have reached out to me, via text, DM, tweets, and more, to check to see that I am okay. This includes (but is not limited to) Fiona H, Andrea P, Beth L, Andrea S, Diana H, Kelly I, Larissa I, Munazzah S, Jenn B, Carrie C, Denise C, Dawn T, Jess L, Michelle S, Chelsea A, Tracey T, Wendy B, and more. Like many other educators in the same boat, I do not know what I am teaching. I am grateful that I still have a job physically in a building (unlike others I know), that I am not in a financially unstable position (unlike others I know), that I currently have my health (unlike others I know), and that my spouse and children are safe. As I said at our equity training last Thursday, it is possible to recognize two viewpoints that may appear to be at odds (back then, it was that it is unfair that BIPOC educators are often expected to do the heavy lifting and lead equity training, and/but/yet, it is problematic to have white educators take the lead during equity training; right now I can state that I am unhappy with the way that school libraries have been "shelved", while simultaneously expressing how difficult it is to adequately staff schools in a safe manner.) We will survive, but at what cost?

In the meantime, enjoy virtual photos of my Webkinz school music room and school library, since you won't see some of those spaces in action for a while.