What is a Teacher?

On Tuesday, a little before 5 pm we were standing outside, waiting for our students to fully disperse to nearby homes, Kennedy's Fried Chicken, and where ever else they chose to spend the remaining daylight hours. There was an energy in the air, and down the block we could see there was something starting. Two teachers crossed the street to break it up, and for a while the sidewalk was clear and calm again.

But not much later, maybe a minute or two, the crowd had converged again and we could hear yelling and screaming. As soon as the traffic light changed I took off to break up the fight. By the time I got down there kids were scattering in every direction and the only people left were an angry mother and a few neighbors.

On Wednesday, returning from a field trip to the offices of Google, several students asked me why they still had school after the state exams were over. The final round of tests end next week with the state math exam. In their estimation, this means that the school year should end as well, their learning having culminated.

"The only job of a teacher is to tell us what to do on the test," one miniature-sized sixth grader with a special talent for getting under his teachers' skin said. This hurt more and more the longer I thought about it. And at the same time, how could I blame him for such an assessment considering the culture we've built in our schools today?

On Thursday, I got onto the 4 train, and immediately noticed two students locked onto each other. They weren't much older than my students. They maneuvered back and forth, halfway between playfighting and pummeling each other. All of us on the train, including a large group of students, watched. One woman next to be started recording it on her phone. 

As an educator, I felt an uneasy tension. Anyone who's inadvertently used his or her teacher voice or stare outside of the classroom knows that sometimes teacher instincts take over without warning. Here I was actually fighting that impulse, frozen by some mix of indecision, self-preservation, exhaustion, cowardice... choosing instead an unsettling role of bystander as it continued for several stops.

I'm thinking of these three interactions, and contemplating what a strange, confusing experience it is to be a teacher today. Some days it feels like my student's proclamation is right on. Our society seems fixated on simplifying our work and worth to what we can get kids to do on a test. But then how do you explain what happened on Tuesday and Thursday? We're more than test preppers. We have no choice. We have to be peace makers, role models, mentors, guardians, and even if that's not a part of our official job description we feel a deep urge to do so, even when we're no longer at work. I wish we could ensure students and policymakers valued these aspects of our work at least as much as the outcome of six days of testing.

What Happened at the WOW!

There are a lot of moving parts to the Citizen Schools program model, but the "special sauce", the element we highlight most of all and the one that brought me to the organization is the apprenticeship. Twice a week students work with volunteers from across the city to explore 21st century skills in a project-based setting. At my school students participated in apprenticeships as varied as mock trial, blogging, sign language and writing a children's book. There were also a number of "non-traditional" apprenticeships that really focused in on students' individual passions and dreams.

All of these apprenticeships culminate in an event we call the WOW! Needless to say, it's hard to understand a WOW! until you've been through one yourself. And while the last 11 weeks were all building up to last night, it was the last month that really began the serious push of preparation for my team and me. There seemed to be an endless list of questions to consider, both logistical and big picture. There were a lot of hours agonizing over the cue-to-cue.

Ultimately though, with constant reminders that the thing that mattered was letting kids shine, everything came together. Roughly 60 families showed up to celebrate the success of our students. We had an amazing performance of the "World's Greatest" from the Talking Hands sign language apprenticeship and throughout the building students had a chance to talk about what they learned and showcase their newfound professional skills.

All in all, it was also a reminder of the many components that go into successful leadership. I often felt during this project that we were "building the airplane while flying" which was a pretty uncomfortable experience. Having been through this once, I've been given a much more clear vision of what needs to happen. For today though, I get to relax and enjoy a little satisfaction that the kids were happy and their successes were celebrated.

When the Going Gets Tough...

I'm sorry to add yet another cliche to this blog, but I can't believe it is December. There is something about the work cycle of an educator - especially a first year educator - that creates some sort of calendar vertigo. Each work week is dizzying in itself, and suddenly you look around and realize that some 14 weeks have passed since you started.

I'm not a first year educator any more, but I am a first year manager which feels eerily reminiscent of my first year in the classroom. The fact that the majority of the teachers I coach and manage are in their first year only heightens this sense of deja vu. The ups and downs of their teaching are vividly familiar, and as they struggle through the phases of first-year teaching, I feel myself following a similar trajectory.

That said, there is a crucial difference between my experience this year, and my experience as a novice teacher. I know why I am here. I know exactly what I have set out to accomplish. I know what I have survived, and as a result I know what I am capable of.

My first year was difficult because of the myriad external challenges of first year teaching, but it also involved an ongoing internal battle. What was I doing in this classroom? Was I doing more harm than good by staying? Was it worth staying through to the end? The answers only started to come together by getting to the end of the year.

Having gone through that process, I now feel myself buoyed by a faith in the value of an uphill challenge. I can remind myself that the pain and struggle of learning new skills, working long hours and being completely outside of my comfort zone will pay extraordinary dividends in the form of new strengths and countless lessons. 

I also find myself tapping into an unshakeable commitment to this work that is only possible because of the four years of teaching and my year of study at Harvard. The work is hard, and that's what makes it worth doing. I know my experience in education is limited at just five years, but it has already taught me that much.

How Do You Lead Learning?

This, my first experience in a role of management, has been a learning experience. It has been as challenging in many ways as my first year teaching, with similar lessons about setting clear expectations, building relationships and earning confidence.

It has been jarring to move from the study of leadership to the practice of it. But of course, we learn by doing.

One of the common characteristics of successfully led organizations I studied last fall was that they were learning-oriented. That is, for example, a children's hospital choosing to examine misdiagnoses and mistakes in the OR carefully and step by step, to seek improved practices rather than assign blame.

It sounds good, right? But how do you build a similar culture on your own? It seems instinctive to point fingers when things go wrong. Maybe out of self-defense, or maybe because someone genuinely screwed up. But it ultimately doesn't help people improve much. Nor does it encourage people to take risks.

Like I said, this year has already offered countless learning opportunities. These have been possible because each day holds a number of mistakes and missteps, but I'm not discouraged by them as long as I'm learning from them. The question for me now is how do I ask the rest of my team to join this process. What learning am I missing out on without their perspectives? What lessons and new ideas might we come to together? I won't know until I try.

Update and Quick Reflection

I have not been in hiding nor have I given up on writing. Rather, I have been inconceivably busy transitioning into my new role as Campus Director for Citizen Schools at MS 331. Luckily the Jewish calendar in its infinite wisdom has forced me to stop what I'm doing long enough to take a deep breath and record some of my reflections on this space.

Early last year at HGSE I realized my interest in ed policy was more of a hobby than an ambition. I didn't want to feel removed from the work. I wanted to be on the ground, with the kids.

This new role offers me a great opportunity then to take on a new challenge, without leaving the work happening in schools.

My new school isn't far at all from where I used to teach. The 6th graders I work with are from more or less the same neighborhood as my 4th graders. It feels incredibly gratifying to have the chance to return to this community with a new perspective and a renewed sense of purpose.

One distinction between my old perspective and my new is how I would describe my work in the Bronx. Formerly I would have said I taught to "give back". Now I believe that the power and potential for change resides in the community where I work. Rather than giving, I now consider my job to serve the community.

To end, I want to make a commitment to write more regularly. There is a lot I am learning each day in my new role. For that I am grateful. I hope to document it more regularly. For now I will just say that the transition from theory (my studies at Harvard) to practice (the new job) has been difficult and incredibly humbling. My obligation now is to take one lesson from each day and apply it to the next.