Comically Me

Stephen Smith is a graduate students pursuing his Masters of Education. He contacted me recently about answering some questions for him for a research project he is conducting on graphic novel use in the Ontario social studies / history curriculum. He intends to present his findings in "a hybrid of academic text and graphic storytelling" (to use his words). As part of the project, he tweaked photos of his interview subjects and added a quote or two in speech bubbles using Be Funky. This is what he made after my interview:

 

I like it! I also like learning new things from new contacts (just like at Library Camp OTF in early July) like this Be Funky site Stephen mentioned. As I've said before, the learning doesn't have to stop just because it's the summer. It's just a different environment for learning.

Putting it in perspective

I heavily edited this blog post before I scheduled it for publication. The initial draft was raw, emotional, personal, and had the unintentional potential to reflect badly on some people and some organizations. Writing can be cathartic and the process can lead to learning. Since shared learning is one of the purposes of this blog, I chose to rewrite, edit, and share.

Recently, I applied for a central position in my school board. This was the third time that I've attempted to earn a spot doing this specific job. My (former) principal was absolutely wonderful. She helped prepare me more thoroughly than I ever had before. She ran through mock interviews with me, proof-read my resume, reviewed the job qualifications ... the results of my application are by no means a reflection of her efforts.

As you might guess, I did not get the job.

Naturally, I was a bit disappointed and upset. "What's wrong with me?" I asked myself. "Don't I have what it takes?" I felt like I had let down all the people who had encouraged me to apply.

I discreetly let my friends know via email and Twitter the results of the interview. As I spread the news, I re-read a Twitter exchange between me and @thenerdyteacher, otherwise known as Nicholas Provenzano. Our discussion began with this blog post from Rick Hess' blog, Straight Up. He had a guest writer, Florida teacher Zak Champagne, talk about "opportunities to grow" for educators that often lead to removing great instructors from the classroom. He bemoans that practice as a loss to students. Nicholas and I talked a little bit about Zak's point. I pointed out that in my board, we have demonstration classrooms, where other teachers can visit experienced colleagues, to watch them in action with real students. We also have funds allocated for new teachers to spend a day with another teacher with a similar job description, so they can job shadow them, pepper them with questions, and gain a mentor that will help them with their first years teaching. Nick liked the ideas. We cc'd Arne Duncan in our discussion, who turns out to be the U.S. Secretary of Education. Wouldn't it be amazing if this sort of professional learning model spread?

It took a couple of days to sink in, but eventually I realized that I don't necessarily need a special title bestowed on me by my employer to make me an "educational leader". I do it when I engage in voluntary conversations with fellow teachers across the continent or offer to help a new teacher-librarian with some kindergarten class lessons on using the library. I do it when I support participants at Library Camp OTF or present at conferences and bring back the information I learn to share with my PLC. Teachers can still lead while working "in the trenches", making the theoretical practical by doing it in their schools with their students. Don't get me wrong - I would still love the chance to assist my fellow school librarians system-wide as part of my day-to-day duties rather than voluntarily after school and online - but I am blessed to have a job that I love, with supportive administration, enthusiastic students, committed staff, and plenty of "leadership opportunities" in and beyond my school.

Summer PD - Leisurely Learning

July 6-8, 2011 marked my third annual work with Library Camp OTF. Every year, the Ontario Teachers' Federation, in conjunction with different subject associations, offers an incredible deal - for just $50, you receive three full days of professional learning opportunities as well as two nights of accomodation and two meals per day in the city where the PD is held. This year, the Ontario School Library Association focused on financial literacy, the newest Ministry of Education initiative. I was asked to re-do my presentation on gaming in the library that I delivered at the Canadian Library Association's 2011 conference in Halifax on Friday, but I was there for all three days to provide support and assistance to the many teacher-librarians from all over the province that attended.

I was so very impressed by the committment and energy that the participants brought to the table. Here they were, only a couple of days into their well-earned summer break, and they chose to work together and learn together. Even if conversations were "off-topic", they were "on-education", and that was just fine by me. We need to respect adult learning styles and the different professional goals that participants bring with them to these sorts of events. Each year, I think the camp improves - not just in how and what is shared, but even in the people that attend. In the past, I found that we were more likely to have some people who placed more emphasis on using their nearly free temporary residence in Toronto to play tourist; now I find that more of the recent attendees have a marvelous balanced attitude. No one begged for us to end early; it was more likely that people hung out after the session had officially ended to continue their professional conversations with their new acquaintances.

I was delighted to reconfirm that I learn just as much from the participants as I do from the "experts" and presenters. As the people who blogged about attending the International Society of Technology Educators conference in Philadelphia showed (especially through their tweets - check the hashtag #iste11 for proof), some of the richest learning happens in the hallway conversations, the talks with others during breaks. I felt the same way during Library Camp OTF. Here are some examples of structured and leisurely learning that occured for me:

Just as I benefited from Elizabeth Gordon's review of creating norms in the introduction, I was enriched by Cyndie Sirsi's passion for using dance in the library as a tool for deepening understanding that we had in the parking lot, and Mary Catherine Doyle's insights into determining the best people to buy from as we drove to a vendor for some "after-session shopping".

Just as I benefited from Roger Nevin's instructions on how to create (and delete) webpages using Google Sites and ways to create and share videos with ease via Smart Board's recording tool and Google Docs, I was enriched by Artemis Manoukas (and the new teacher-librarian at Heritage Park P.S., whose name I have totally forgotten!) who shared with me their experience with the impact of pets on students and plans for incorporating financial literacy with ecological stewardship, and Lucia D'Arrisso's delightful uses of costumes to engage her school community (and retelling how her kindergarten students patted her and cooed "you are so beautiful" when she dressed as Snow White).

Just as I benefited from Joanne Laforty's pre-retirement presentation on assessment and evaluation in the library (remember the new paradigm as explained in Growing Success states that the main purpose of it all is to improve learning) I was enriched by Christy Den Haan-Veltman's writing and publishing experience and willingness to help with the magazine, and Karen Fong's expertise as a kindergarten teacher shaping her library program (using a "glow and a grow" to give positive feedback, for example).

Just as I benefited from Ruth Hall and Elizabeth Gordon's connections between financial literacy and the Together For Learning document I was enriched by Cindy Mohareb and Karrie Smith's reflections on their gaming experience and the benefits it showed them, and Bonnie Moffat's group plans to create QR code t-shirts ("scan me") and scavenger hunt activities for their school libraries, and Heather Sheehy's courage to try new tools even when they are less-than-successful on the first attempt.

Thank you to everyone that attended. As I said after distributing the certificates, let's keep the learning going, and the connections we've made with other educators alive and thriving.

Changing of the Guard

On the Thursday before the last week of school, our principal had an announcement - she was transferring to a new school. The news was quite a shock to most of us. Our principal had been leading our school for six years (and I've been there for seven). Many of us incorrectly guessed that she'd retire from the position, as all of her predecessors had done before her. I was once told about my current school that "the only reason people leave are if they either retire or are promoted". It's a great school. The students are pleasant, eager, and hard-working; the parents are supportive without being overbearing; the staff are friendly and cooperative. As my principal explained at our staff social on the second last day of school, she felt like she should challenge herself - it would be very easy and comfortable to stay in a school in which she had established herself and her routines and expectations. She mentored staff and encouraged teachers to take on new leadership opportunities and she felt she had to do the same for herself.

The changing of the guard can be an uncertain time. What will the new person be like? How will things be different? My principal was far from perfect, but there is one specific practice that I will definitely miss.

Every July, after the frantic last days of school pass away, my principal would take me out to lunch at a lovely hotel restaurant. There, just the two of us, we'd sit and she would read my school library annual report and flip through the scrapbook I compile each year. The visual record of the year's accomplishments presented in the scrapbook, combined with all the quantitative data I compiled in my report (like circulation statistics, amount of partner units taught, budget, etc) provided a well-rounded overview of what went on that school year. Then, my principal and I would talk about what she had just viewed and read. How could we improve the school library program for next year? How could we duplicate or increase our successes?

What I love most about this tradition (other than the free lunch) is that I have my principal's undivided attention. She is not distracted and she truly listens and thinks and reflects on school library issues. This annual gathering was my principal's initial idea: she felt that in June she was just too rushed to truly digest my photo album and my annual report. In a relaxed environment with just the two of us, we are able to speak frankly and chew over ideas as we chew our lunch. With this small gesture, she demonstrates, even when I sometimes doubted it, that she considers school libraries important enough to devote exclusive time and thought.

We won't be having our annual lunch meeting because she'll be busy preparing for work at her new school. I hope she'll remember those conversations we had with fondness - I will.

Mario Kart Frenzy!

Who says that the "June slide" must occur? Just as much learning and discovering was filling my library on the second last day of school, thanks to the efforts of teacher extraordinaire Julie Johnson. Julie is a special education teacher at Goodfellow Public School with the Simcoe District School Board. We attempted a little experiment this year with our school's Nintendo Wii systems. We wanted to see if we could help some of our male students that struggled with appropriate social behaviour by playing video games together. The hope was that the students would internalize positive social traits that they honed while playing in the comfortable and enjoyable game environment and be able to apply them to situations in the school yard and with other students. The two groups met each other several months ago and participated in a Tribes (c) activity to help build community. We then spent the intervening months with our separate school clubs, gaming, encouraging, and modeling. We weren't able to synch the Wiis so that we could directly play each other, so instead we hooked up via Skype and recorded our times. Our five boys faced their five boys and we played. There was lots of cheering and at the end, when the competitors turned to the webcam to look at their fellow player, positive comments were exchanged (like "good game" and "congratulations").

I wish I could report that my school's Wii Social Skills Club was a magic bullet (or Bullet Bill, for those who know the Mario Kart game) and that all my students' social awkwardness disappeared after playing together. I had to talk to one boy who knocked away the hand of another boy who was only trying to pat him on the back to say "good job". I had to remind one of my other players that he could not threaten another player to withdraw his friendship because he was in the way. However, I think it was an excellent step in the right direction. The students were a bit shy when conversing with the kids from the other school, but they did offer kind words and praise. The students really enjoyed being part of the club; they felt honoured and special.

I want to thank all the folks over at Goodfellow P.S., especially Julie, for organizing our first-ever tournament and I look forward to working with her more on projects like this in the future. I also want to thank my teaching partner in my own school, Renee Keberer, for joining me on this crazy journey. Renee has been promoted to a central position in our board, so she and I will no longer be in the same building. Naturally, this is very bittersweet news for me. It's so important to have like-minded teachers around you to be willing to try out innovative and possibly bizarre ideas in the name of helping students. I hope all of you have a Renee in your school.

Comic Clubs and "Who's the Boss?"

Way back when (May 20, 2011, to be precise), I gave up my Professional Activity day and instead of marking in preparation for report cards, I took my school's Graphic Novel Club to visit Borden Business and Technical Institute. Dr. Peggy MacInnis (person on the left in my photograph) is the teacher-librarian at Borden. She and I participated in a study by Dr. Elizabeth Lee from Queens University (person in the middle in my photo) on graphic novel processing vs traditional novel processing. My school club was the elementary school study rep and Peggy's group was the secondary school study rep. We said we wanted to get our groups together to meet one day, and we were finally able to arrange a gathering.

My students thought they had died and gone to manga heaven. See the shelves behind us? Those are all manga, and that's just a small selection of Borden's massive collection. The Borden GNC (Graphic Novel Club) did a wonderful job of welcoming my club. Despite being two very different groups (elementary vs secondary, mostly female vs mostly male, university-graduate "leanings" vs skills and trades "leanings"), my students overcame their shyness because they were able to "talk comics" with this enthusiastic and eager bunch of students. Borden's principal paid for the pizza lunch. Dr. Lee brought cookies. The students planned all sorts of activities like "name that manga character" and sketching in the manga style. There was even a comic book sale in the school of which my students took full advantage.

A little "foot-in-mouth disease" on my part made me once again see the possibilities of a learning commons and notice the differences between elementary schools and high schools. When the adults were making their final comments to the students, I said I wanted to acknowledge the person they called "The Big Boss", Dr. MacInnis. All the high school students laughed at me - "Big Boss" wasn't their teacher-librarian; it was Candace, one of the student members of the club. I was a little embarrassed by my slip-up and talked/apologized to Peggy afterwards.

"All I do is buy the books" Peggy said. "They do everything else. They run the meetings. They choose which books I buy. They do it all. Sometimes it takes them a long time, because of the types of kids I have here. It took them a half an hour to figure out the seating plan for lunch. I let them do it."

Those were pretty powerful words for me. There were several times during the get-together where I wanted to dive in and get things progressing a little quicker or suggest a rule to the game that would make it smoother or more fair, but I sat on my hands (with difficulty). Peggy was right - the students had to learn how to organize things, how to handle a talkative crowd of fellow students, how to select teams in a way that mixed both groups - if I jumped in to "fix" things, how would that help their learning? I thought I was doing a pretty decent job in my school club of letting my students lead the way (by letting them pick which books to read and having them lead discussions) but I saw that I have so much farther that I can go with allowing them more say and power in the club (by letting them decide if or when a club meeting needs to be cancelled instead of choosing to do so myself because I was too busy, or by letting them determine the content of club meetings/activities). I know things are a bit different because it's a high school and these are teenagers, but why is age a barrier? When I admired the excellent condition all of the comics were in, I learned that the students use special book cover materials and they themselves volunteer to coat the covers and preserve the books. One of the high school students offered to have me send my collection to him so he would repair it. I think, if I can arrange it, that he should come to my school and teach me and my library helpers how to do it.

Our comic clubs had a great time socializing. My students didn't want to leave. We hope that we can do it again next year, and maybe I'll have learned a bit more about loosening control of things so that onlookers will wonder who truly is "the boss".

The KISS principle and the best reps

This past weekend, I attended an Ontario School Library Association council meeting. I couldn't stay 'til the end of the session, as I had to drive my children to a birthday party, but we did get quite a bit accomplished (although the to-do list is still pretty long). The group is working on a shared document (in Google docs) that will help us with talking to both political candidates in the future provincial election and to media outlets interested in the future of school libraries. We call it our "elevator speech", based on something that someone (Carol Koechlin? Ross Todd? Ken Haycock?) once advised - you should always have ready a brief and clear description of what it is you do and why it's important that you can share at a moment's notice, just in case you happen to share an elevator with someone important or influential.

That's easier said that done! When I was interviewed by Global TV a few weeks ago, I found it hard to articulate in just a few words what makes me unique (and by extension, worth preserving). I was struggling with a Twitter friend with this topic as well - how do you describe exactly what a teacher-librarian does? How is a teacher-librarian different from a classroom teacher? How is he/she difference from a public librarian or a library technician? We need to be super-clear and avoid edu-babble or edu-jargon as much as we can. Even when we think we are providing a direct message, it doesn't always work out that way. During the recent flurry of news on school libraries, it seemed like some people were trying to twist the message of "Together For Learning" (the OSLA vision document that describes how the school library of the 21st century is like a learning commons) in a way that justified the staffing and budget cuts they are making. That's completely contrary to the message of that document - in this world full of information, you need someone who knows what's going on to help you sift through it all - but even that description reeks too much of the old "resource manager" and not enough of the "instructional leader". If / when I figure out exactly how to KISS it (Keep It Simple, Stupid!) I'll share my "this is what a teacher librarian is, and this is why we need them" in 3 sentences or less.

What I am clear about, however, is that we need the best representation possible. We need to showcase teacher-librarians who are great at what they do, not the ones that enter the job to "get out of marking" or the ones who are placed there by administrators because that's "where they can do the least damage" to the unfortunate students around them. We don't want complainers; we don't want techno-phobes; we don't want people who lack people skills. At an awards ceremony I attended recently, I met the antithesis of what we want to see in our teacher-librarians - sadly, the person was the recipient of an award. Her acceptance speech was so unspeakably horrible (and she ended it by insulting the company representative that sponsored the award) that this quote from the Adam Sandler movie "Billy Madison" came to mind: "What you just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I've ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response, were you even close to anything that can be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points and may God have mercy on your soul."

I won't spend any more "screen time" discussing this less-than-ideal situation (note to self: remember the positive position, Diana!) - but just try to be the best representative you can be. The damage a specialist teacher can do will radiate beyond their own job and possibly result in a principal or set of teachers believing that there's no need for that position in a school there or elsewhere. Don't do damage - be the best you can.