Month: July 2025

It all adds up

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

In my many years of teaching, I have been “in charge” of delivering all kinds of content, mostly English Language Arts — everything from vocabulary to grammar to composition to poetry, drama, short stories, and novels. I’ve led lessons on irony, literary analysis, metaphor, meter, MLA documentation, and countless other ELA topics.

In some of my positions, particularly during the early years, I also led lessons on science, social studies, religion, sex education, PE, and yes, even math. I wouldn’t say I was amazing in these other content areas (if you are reading this and I was your teacher, please be kind!) but I muddled through. I understand the principles of teaching — the concept that first “I do,” then “we do,” then “you do,” so if I can figure something out, chances are, I can show you how to do it.

And, once upon a time, I could figure out math, but can I still?

In my new role, the plan is that I’ll be coaching eight teachers — two ELA, two social studies, two science, and two math. With each of these teachers, we will begin by looking at the curriculum — what are the broad goals for this year, how are those goals broken into units, how will each unit be assessed, what skills will students need to be successful, and what misconceptions might we be on the lookout for?

As I’m preparing for these discussions with my team, I’m diving into the curricula — this past week I dove into math.

At first glance I was like, how hard can it be — I can probably still do most of Algebra I, I mean 2x +5 = 25? No problem. But then I opened the first geometry lesson and thought, Oh, my, this is a whole different language, isn’t it? The first unit was all about triangles and parallel lines — Cool, cool, I remember this — the three angles of a triangle add up to 180 degrees, and if parallel lines bisect a transverse line, corresponding angles are equivalent – – yup, yup. But then I got to the part where you have to write the “proof” and I was immediately transported back to 1982 and Mr. Cronkright’s room. I was pretty sure my deodorant failed and a zit popped out on my nose. I shook myself — how hard can this be? You’ve got the teacher’s edition and supplemental videos! Walk through it! Figure it out.

And you know what? I did! I remembered all the things — with a little help from Great Minds Digital Learning — and was able to complete the unit assessment with flying colors! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

I was feeling pretty good about myself until the next day when I opened the first unit of Algebra II — Probability — this is an entirely different language, once again. I mean, suppose that a book store sells a book in both electronic and print format, and that customers can pay with either a gift card or a credit card. What is the likelihood that a random customer walks in the store and buys an electronic copy with a gift card.

I’m looking at the screen of my computer, scratching my head saying, Who in the world wants to know how to calculate this ? when the power in my house went out. What are the odds?

LOL. See what I did there? I’m telling math jokes.

The power literally did go out, but my computer had plenty of battery and I had plenty of daylight, so I pressed on. Certainly if I trudged through the lessons, even I could learn how to use a two-way frequency table. So trudge I did, and while the literal lights came back on while I was still hunched over my desk, the metaphorical light of understanading didn’t reach full strength. I’m not sure I comprehend enough about probability to pass the assessment — yet! — but I am confident that I can have a conversation about the unit with the instructor, and I am quite sure I will be able to identify some of the struggle areas that might take students [ahem, me] more time to digest.

Did I mention in last week’s post that I would be learning this year, too? I am certain of it.

That’s a large part of what teaching is, friends — it’s admitting that you might not know everything, but committing to getting on the bus anyway, deciding to show up, leaning over content that might be challenging, and using any means necessary to figure it out so that you can model it for your students, do it with your students, then release them to do it on their own.

This past year I had the privilege of watching someone do just that. Last August, when we realized that we would not be able to find an ELA teacher to fill the position I was vacating, I agreed to continue teaching two sections of seniors and to share the classroom with one of our paraprofessionals who would teach three sections of freshmen. Although this individual has been in our building for as long as I have, she is not a certified teacher and has no formal training in English Language Arts. Did that stop her? Not at all. She received coaching, read books, leaned into curricula, and announced to her students, “We’re going to figure this out together.” Day after day she showed up, implemented strategies, and learned lessons so that she could bring her students along with her. She knew she was responsible for what they were learning, and she took her role seriously.

And truly, that is what I plan to do with my team this year. I want to “figure it out together,” leaning over their content with them, modeling for them how to determine the best way to deliver a concept or a skill, partnering with them to try a new instructional strategy, then watching them take it from there.

The money in teaching is when the students [or this year, my teachers] take what we have learned together, personalize it, and go way beyond what the teacher could even conceive of. The student exceeds the teacher. That’s the goal.

What is the probability that it will happen this year? I’d say the odds are good.

“[He}is able to do more than we can ask or imagine.” Ephesians 3:20

P.S. We are still hiring for some of the positions on my team. If you or someone you know is interested, check out the postings here.

Rested and Ready for a new Rhythm

Featured ~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

I wrapped up school year 2024-2025 –watched another group of seniors cross the stage into adulthood, entered final grades, and cleaned up my classroom.

Next, I joined my husband in clearing the clutter in our home.

Then we left town for two short treks — one to play with our granddaughters in Ohio and another to lie on the beach of Lake Huron. We crossed the miles listening to podcasts and chatting about everything from family to politics to music to our future. With our grand girls we lazed in the pool, played Uno and Skip-Bo, and were entertained by intricately choreographed dances. Near the beach, we ate well, slept long, took leisurely walks, and lost track of time.

They were luxurious and welcome — these two little trips back to back — and now we are re-entering real life. Since we’ve returned home we’ve been in the business of unpacking, doing laundry, tending to yard work, and taking stock of the new rhythms we are noticing since a) my husband transitioned from an almost four-decade-long career in church work to a private counseling practice and as b) I am making the shift from classroom teacher to full-time instructional coordinator. Some of the work each of us does in our new roles is similar to what we have done in the past, however, the routines and workloads are quite different. While he has been adapting to his new rhythm for over eighteen months, my real shift begins this week as I embrace the responsibilities of my new role.

How will it be the same? How will it be different?

What won’t change is my morning commute — I will still drive 30 minutes east from Ypsilanti to the edge of Detroit. I will park my car in the same spot, work with many of the same colleagues and students, and follow the same daily bell schedule and school year calendar. I will also continue to serve on our school’s leadership team, meeting at least weekly to plan initiatives and events, troubleshoot current issues, and collaborate toward best practices for our building.

However, many things will change — I will no longer have my own classroom. I will no longer have my own students or a grade book or lesson plans or the responsibility for all that happens inside a teacher’s classroom through the course of the day — behavior management, attendance, organizing materials, and managing the constant flow of information.

I will have plenty of new responsibilities on my plate. In addition to coaching the instructional moves of a handful of teachers like I did last year, I will also be partnering with those teachers to unpack curriculum, analyze assessments, and plan instruction. Further, I will be our building’s testing coordinator, responsible for all things PSAT/SAT, ACT Workkeys, and MSTEP.

All of this, of course, is in the interest of our students. I came to this position because I recognize the systemic inequities in American education that have benefitted some students (mostly white and affluent) and have disadvantaged others (mostly low-income and/or students of color). I wanted to lend my years of experience and expertise in service of closing the gap that continues to widen; I wanted to provide a high level of instruction and rigor for students who have, through no fault of their own, fallen multiple grade levels behind their peers who live sometimes just a few miles away.Over the past five years, I feel I have had limited success. I have, within my classroom, provided glimpses of rigor, moments of engagement, and small gains for individual students.

However, individual teachers in isolation cannot overcome centuries — literal centuries! — of harm. They do make a difference, of course, but for the sweeping change that is needed, we need a broader — a more systemic — solution.

I joined the team at my school in August of 2020. Covid had sent all of our students home the previous March, and because of the disproportionate impact on low income communities of color, particularly Detroit, our district provided instruction virtually for the entire 2020-2021 school year. The administrative team was making it up as they went along, and I — a teacher returning to the high school classroom after a six year hiatus — was enthusiastic about giving it my best. I popped into Zoom rooms, chatting with any students who would talk to me, leading lessons, and providing office hours every afternoon. We didn’t close any systemic gaps that year; we merely did what we could to slow the ever-widening distance between our students’ academic progress and that of those in neighboring districts.

The following year (2021-2022) , fully masked, we returned to in-person learning, bouncing back to virtual instruction several times throughout the year. It actually took us that year and the next (2022-2023) to re-establish routines within the building. We were on pretty solid footing as we started school year 2023-2024, but some mid-year leadership changes kept us from moving too far forward.

The standardized test scores told the story — about a tenth of our students were proficient in English Language Arts and none — 0% — were proficient in math. Our staff took in those realities as our newly appointed principal delivered them before the return of students in the fall of 2024. She gave us the hard truth and then cast a vision for us — we, the staff and our students, would activate excellence. We could no longer allow this to be the reality for the students in our building — things were going to change.

And, over the year I did see evidence of shift — in attitude, in practice, in thinking. However in order to overcome systemic inequities of the proportions that I have witnessed, we need a reimagining of what school likes like in our context. The principal sets the tone, and she has. The leadership team has come alongside our principal, supporting her vision, agreeing with the need, and implementing strategies. Staff members have also caught the vision, to a degree, but the kind of transformation that is needed is going to take the whole team — every teacher, every paraprofessional, every custodian, every social worker — to activate excellence, consistently and continuously, day in and day out.

Certainly in my own classroom, I have strived to provide excellent instruction, to have high expectations, and to inspire my students toward greatness, but I will admit that my efforts have sometimes been inconsistent. I have grown tired, and I have from time to time been merely mediocre. However, as I step into this role, I have been given an opportunity to activate excellence beyond my classroom — taking care to do my very best with the responsibilities I have been given, and to bring other staff members along with me.

I will push my team of teachers — some of whom are experienced, some who are brand new — toward excellence. Together, we will grow this year, beginning by building relationships, but then quickly moving into strategies, into accountability, into doing whatever it takes to activate excellence for our students — to give them the tools they need to move forward into their futures.

It’s a big job, but I’m rested, I have the vision, and I’ve been equipped. May God grant me the strength to persevere, the compassion to both see and inspire my team, and the heart to sustain my insufferable belief in restoration.

He is faithful, and He will do it. I Thessalonians 5:24