Sharing Our Reading Lives

It can be challenging to sell some students on reading without being readers ourselves. So it is important as teachers and leaders to share our reading lives. As a school leader, I believe making my reading life more public is influential on students, staff, and even families.

With students, I am sometimes seen walking around with reading material in case of a “reading emergency”, a term coined by Donalyn Miller that describes those small moments without anything to do. Reading can fill that gap. Plus, the students and staff often notice.

With staff, I will often read aloud at staff meetings. Right now I am starting each meeting with a poem and related response from Teaching with Fire: Poetry That Sustains the Courage to Teach. In my agenda, I include the entire poem from the last meeting so they can reread it and take it with them. I’ve also started sharing what I am reading in place of my weekly staff newsletter once in a great while.

For the list of books I shared with my staff today, sign up for my free newsletter. You will receive it tomorrow.

With all stakeholders who communicate with me via email, they might find my Goodreads email signature at the bottom. It is a widget that showcases what book I am reading right now. I know from seeing what other people are reading who use the same widget, it sparks my interest as a possible next book to read. Also, I feel like I know that person a little better, seeing what they are reading. What we read often reveals what we value, beyond the act of reading for its own sake.

How do you share your reading life with staff, students, and families? If you currently don’t, what approaches sound intriguing to you? Please share in the comments.

Being Connected is Not the Same as Connectedness #CEM15 #edtechchat

This past weekend, my family and I headed south to visit family in Illinois. This is where I’m originally from, and most of my family members still reside there. The highlight of our trip, besides the “really awesome” pool our two kids enjoyed at a hotel in Rockford, was the Halloween party hosted by my aunt and uncle in Seneca.

12182435_10156289603010595_3597715382384628058_oCell phone service was very limited. It was just as well. Everyone who was there I rarely got a chance to see in person. We spent time with each other next to the night fire, sharing our news and our personal highlights. More than once, a relative referenced a picture and/or comment one of us made on Facebook (usually about our kids). We shared a laugh about the event that we would not have known without social media. These connections served to bring us closer together.

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Online interactions are a mere shadow compared to the connectedness we experience when we physically come together as people. It’s not always easy, especially for introverts such as myself. But it doesn’t mean I should avoid it. Contrast this with my first day back at school: I started the week by leafing through the latest issue of EdTech: Focus on K-12 magazine. In one of the front pages is a highlight of tweets reposted within a section titled “Connectedness”. Here is a sampling I found, collected from a recent “#SatchatOC” chat:

How should we be defining connectedness? Many of us view this concept through the lens of social media and online networks. Do we prioritize our digital connections over the those we are in close proximity to every day? Can we be simply connected and still experience a feeling of connectedness?

My preferred definition of “connectedness” within the education profession comes from Parker J. Palmer, in his classic resource The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life (Jossey-Bass, 1998, 2007). Palmer defines connectedness as the ability of teachers “to weave a complex web of connections among themselves, their subjects, and their students so that students can learn to weave a world for themselves” (pg. 11). This web extends beyond our online connections.

While there is no question about the role of social media in education, we may view these digital networks as the main way for educators to pursue new knowledge and skills. Unfortunately, this mindset might lead to further distancing ourselves from the possible relationships right in front of us: Our colleagues in neighboring classrooms, departments, and schools. Have we successfully mined the possibilities that these potential face-to-face interactions will provide? My guess is no.

In her new book Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age (Penguin, 2015), MIT scientist Sherry Turkle documents studies describing the negative effects of keeping a largely online network of human connections:

  • The mere presence of a phone changes what people talk about, for fear of being interrupted by a text message or notification. (21)
  • Online messaging leads to less emotional connections compared to in-person conversations. (23)
  • People who use social media the most have more difficulty reading human emotions, including their own, when compared to those not as connected. (25)
  • For young people, online life is associated with a loss of empathy and a diminished capacity for self-reflection. (41)
  • People don’t like posting things online that their followers won’t agree with – everyone wants to be liked. (50)

This concerns me. What do we unknowingly give up when we add on and delve more deeply into online connections? Do we reduce our capacity for connectedness in our efforts to become “more connected”? I’ve attempted to counter these tendencies in my own role as a school principal. For the last two days, teachers have come together in face-to-face conversations regarding professional goals for the school year. When I listened to their ideas, I put aside my digital tools and gave them my full attention. Full disclosure: My phone was still present. :-/ Still, as I offered suggestions, I paid attention to how they responded physically, such as facial expressions and their eyes, as well as what they had to say. These verbal and nonverbal cues guided our conversation.

One of the best feelings is knowing that you are being listened to. It’s hard to articulate, but you know it when it happens. You feel appreciated, acknowledged, and supported. There are certainly situations where online connections are the best option. Usually it is in the absence of in-person conversations. But when the opportunity for a real conversation presents itself, is it a priority or merely a formality?

My mom and me
My mom and me by the campfire at the Halloween party

The Courage to Lead

81rS7W0DJ1LA group of 21 educators in my district just started a book study for The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life by Parker J. Palmer (Jossey-Bass, 2007). This book club consists of teachers, administrators, and professional support staff.

We are facilitating this book study in a Google+ Community. My hope is that this online forum will provide a safe space for everyone to reflect on our chosen profession and renew our purpose.

My role is to pose questions in the community and recognize others’ responses with “+1’s” and comments that acknowledge their thinking. I am also charged with setting dates in which we should have read a certain number of pages. If you have read The Courage to Teach, then you know this is not a text you can speed read through in a couple of days.

As I reread the introduction to start posting questions, I was struck by this powerful statement on page 4:

In our rush to reform education, we have forgotten a simple truth: reform will never be achieved by renewing appropriations, restructuring schools, rewriting curricula, and revising texts if we continue to demean and dishearten the human resource called the teacher on whom so much depends.

I am going to share this quote with our group. I thought it would be appropriate to share here as well.

For more on Parker Palmer’s thinking, check out his most recent post for On Being as we embark on a new year:

Five Questions for Crossing the Threshold