What Sign Hangs on Your Door?

Christmas break in Kansas always offers something special. Some Christmas breaks have been white, with inches of snow piled up and the roads slushy and sloppy. Other years, break has been windy and cold, but dry. This year, a week after Jack Frost made a bold entry with lows around -10 and blowing snow, Kansas did what Kansas does, and flipped the script entirely. What does that mean? It means that highs in the 50s and sunshine made it really difficult to put off exercising over break. So, I hit the streets to try and combat the effects of my students' amazing generosity with food in the days leading up to break.

As I was walking my route through the streets of Hutchinson, I was faced with a decision as I came to an intersection. I looked right and saw one sign.

I then looked left and saw another sign.


The decision was obvious and easy, and I hung a sharp right. And then I started thinking. Walking on a pleasant Kansas afternoon lends itself to doing that.

I tend to see meaning in things. A metaphor in a line of poetry, a lyric in a song, colors in a setting description in a novel, the clothes a character in a TV show wears, the angle from which a scene is shot in a film. My son and daughter have inherited the habit, and I am happy about that; it causes them to think more deeply about what they read, hear, and see.  Sometimes, I think my school kids think I overdo it a little bit. I am an English teacher, so cut me some slack.

So, I started thinking about those signs. They were positioned so closely, on opposite sides of the same intersection, and yet, they are so different.

Which sign would I want someone to hang outside my classroom door? The choice, for me anyway, was simple. Obviously, I would want "Children at Play" adorning my classroom door, if I had to choose. "No Outlet" is just the opposite of what I would want a kid to think of when he or she walks into my room. That sounds like torture to me. No way to let anything out. No way to get out. A trap, a cage, a dead end. If a student feels that way about a classroom, or about school in general, why in the world would that kid make any effort, or see any purpose in being there?

Let's look a little closer at that "Children at Play" sign. That sign is there for the drivers. It is an announcement to look out, be careful, and pay attention. Kids are being kids. They are playing. Don't mess that up and turn something so perfectly child-like into something scary and tragic because you are in hurry or too preoccupied to notice what is going on in front of you, to see children doing the very thing that children are supposed to do.  The sign is there so the children can play and can feel comfortable enough to let themselves play. It might be tossing a ball, playing roller hockey, jumping a homemade bike ramp, or creating chalk masterpieces at the end of a driveway. It might be playing some new game that doesn't even have rules yet, and just develops as they play it. That's what kids do.

So, if I had to choose, I would want "Children at Play". I know that not everything we do in my classroom is going to be 'fun', but I want kids to feel comfortable in my classroom, comfortable enough to play a little. To skin an intellectual knee now and then because they feel they can take a chance and try something new, or stretch themselves in something they are good at without the fear of being blindsided by some thoughtlessness that barrels through. I would want the sign to remind me to pay attention, to see what is going on in front of me. Maybe to even take part in the game, or help prop up the ramp so they can catch a little more air.

The choice is obvious and easy.

So, as the new semester kicks off, what sign would you want hanging in your classroom?

Reading, Like Winning, Is a Habit

Vince Lombardi once said, "Winning is a habit. Unfortunately, so is losing."

He was right. One could easily plug in other habits, both positive and negative, and the statement would hold true. Take, for example, reading. Earlier this week, during a Senior Exit Interview, I found it hard to restrain my excitement when one of my students uttered the words "Reading is becoming a habit." I cannot think of a better Christmas present from one of my students, although Sydney's coconut dessert bars and Allyson's homemade cookies do come close.

Today was the last day of classes for the fall semester at BHS. We have experimented extensively in our hallway this semester, trying or expanding flexible seating in several classroom, diving headlong into student-guided project-based learning, implementing a 10 minute sacred reading time in some classrooms, and, in general, just trying to find new and effective ways to engage and learn with our students. I am blessed to have a team full of brave souls who will kick the side out of the box, explore what possibilities exist, and then either rebuild the box into a boat, rocket, or terrarian or burn the dang thing, whichever makes the most sense for our kids. It makes life in our hallway exciting, for me and for our students, and it is incredibly freeing.

In our senior classes, we have long used project-based learning to extend research and "doing something" with what our students have learned in areas that they are particularly passionate. We are in the midst of this process as the semester ends, as seniors have completed the initial research and have written proposals of what they hope to do with or springboarding off of that learning. Greg Froese and I decided that we needed something other than a traditional final at this point, something that would allow us to engage with the students and entice them to reflect on their second to last semester high school life.

We settled on a form of Senior Exit Interview. While somewhat exhausting over these last few days of the semester, they have been something I wish I had been doing every year.

The one-on-one conversations that I have always found worthwhile are happening with each student. As they prepare to present evidence of growth and learning and answer questions about how they could improve, the anxiety levels rose, but not excessively high. Questions were raised about the need to "dress professionally", resulting in my giving up one of the teacher's most treasured days, Jeans Day, as I agreed to forego that luxury and maintain my professional dress as well. They gathered evidence and wrote a letter of application, stating their current grades and explaining what adjustments were in order, and why.

During these interviews, I asked each senior about our 10 minute time, a  period of sacred reading time we have at least four days a week. In one senior class, we call it Tyna Time, in honor of one young lady who complained about how much she hates to read when we started it. Not a single student, not even Tyna, expressed negative feelings about the time. I learned a great deal about their thoughts about reading as well as what we as a school may have been doing to our kids' love of reading.

"I'm in a lot of activities and sports, and I work. I don't have very much time to read. Reading time gives me a chance to actually read." This statement was from a wrestler, but it was echoed by multiple students. In our conversations, a common thread emerged. At the very time when our students should be reading more, and at higher levels, than any other time in their school careers, they are reading less. Look at our examples of the "best" students in our schools. These individuals are "well-rounded", which means they are involved in activities, they play sports, they hold leadership positions, they take college and AP classes, they work weekends and evenings, they take part in youth groups, and they help out at home. We want them to do those things, and we celebrate those that do. Think about that. Is it any surprise that those kids are giving only the quickest skim of reading assignments and abandoning reading for pleasure completely? Over and over again, students echoes that for them the most positive aspect of our 10-minute Time was just that: 10 minutes of time.

Those 10 minutes allow a seed to grow. It allows the habit of reading to regenerate for many students. "I find myself reading more during the day now." Be still my heart. Oh, and for you fuddy-duddies who complain about the ubiquitous cellphone? "I used to play on my phone a lot in school. Now, I find myself reading instead." She might have a book in her hand as opposed to her phone, or she might be reading an ebook on her phone, but she is reading.

One major component of our reading time has been student choice. Some of my kids read classics like Gulliver's Travels while others sang short story collections off my shelf. Some read graphic novels. A few read technical articles about topics ranging from fish habitats to welding techniques. I honestly do not care, as long as they are reading and reading closely. After listening to my seniors and after having a "So, what are you reading?" sharing day in my on-level sophomore class, I am more comfortable with this. My sophomores were talking about their reading much as they talk about movies, TV shows, or popular music. How cool is that? Some related the books they have reading the first semester to particular movies or TV series. Some admitted that they had started and dropped multiple books because they cannot find something they like. This resulted in peer-suggestions for books that might be appealing. "Oh, you would love..." began more than one conversation. I am not naive enough to think every kid is 100% invested in their reading, but more students are now, and some who are all in are surprising.

Some people may also argue that the open choice aspect allows students to take "the easy way out". Maybe, but one of my final interviews opened my eyes even more as to why we are doing what is right for our kids. One young lady, one of those quiet kids who has magic behind her eyes that she hides if she can, told me why she loves our reading time. "I'm a slow reader," she told me. She said she always felt like she could not keep up with some of the more difficult books classes have read. She went on to say that the nature of our reading time allowed her to pick books that are "too hard" for her to read in class. She is not worried about keeping up or passing a particular reading quiz. Her worries about being behind the other students or getting lost trying to keep up are gone. So she reads more difficult books, rereading as needed, and she actually enjoys them. She reads them more often, and she understands what she is reading. If she doesn't she goes back and rereads parts of the book, or talks to the another student or her mom, whoever recommended the book. Reading, rereading, reading more challenging texts, finding ways to overcome struggles, and talking about the reading.

And we have not even touched on what "learning" and reflection that comes from all of this reading.

So, I guess in the end, I just want to say that I am encouraged, to say the least. I know this approach to reading is not really new, even in our school, but it seems to always come with some sort of strings attached. Thank you to NerdCamp for reigniting the conversation last summer. Thank you to Sam Neill for her enthusiasm. Thank you Sam, Greg, Amber, Kiley, and John for being the greatest ELA team, and for providing the most amazing hallway collaboration on the planet. Thank you for our supportive administration. Thank you to Janea Gray for not only providing our kids a place they can land in the library, but also for suggestions, support, encouragement, insight, and expertise, not only for our kids, but for us.

And thank you to the young people who walk through my door each day and who stream through our halls. Have a Merry Christmas.

"Love the Way You Lie" and Other Surprising Learning Moments

"Imma tie you to the bed and set this house on fire."

Do I have your attention? Good.

The line above is the closing line of the final verse of "Love the Way You Lie" by Eminem featuring Rihanna. It definitely caught the attention of many of my students when we listened to the song in class a couple of weeks ago. Many of them, when I first hit play on the radio edit version of the tune, belted out the hook along with Rihanna, only to fall increasingly silent as they listened to the verses that followed, growing more aware of just how masterfully the artists crafted their words, and, as a result, how violent the images presented in the lyrics truly were. As one student Tweeted after class: "this song will never be the same."


We had delved into the figurative language, allusions, symbolism, and themes of the song as an extension of our study of the short story "Like the Sun". I love using music and movies in my classroom to try and make our literary studies more relevant for our students. I have known several amazing teachers who share my interest and passion. Sometimes the approach works, and sometimes it is, well, less effective than I hope. Often, I learn more about and from my kids during these lessons than any other time. We examine the video "Crossroads" by Bone-Thugs-N-Harmony as we explore allusion and symbolism. We use "Another Brick in the Wall" as a springboard for a reflective project (I actually found that lesson in an issue of The English Journal during my time at Baker University many moons ago.) Sometimes we examine the ending of Gran Torino during our discussion of tragic heroes and symbolism. Usually, the lessons are initiated by students. Several years ago, while we were studying Romeo and Juliet, a young lady asked if I had every heard Ludo's "Love Me Dead". I had not, so she played it for me. I was just a little confused. She explained that she thought of the song while we read Juliet's speech as she waited for Romeo to visit her, not knowing her new husband had just killed her cousin. She utters these lines:
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, 
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine 
That all the world will be in love with night 
And pay no worship to the garish sun.  (III, ii, 1739-1743)

The discussion with this young lady in my class that followed was insightful. When we speak of love, she explained, we so often speak of destruction, of consumption. "I just love you to death." "I love you so much, I could just eat you up." Here was a young woman in love, if you want to call it that, or in a deep state of infatuation at the least, and she poetically muses about cutting up her lover into tiny pieces and scattering them across the sky to make the stars jealous. That is how much she loves him, supposedly. Ludo croons lines of intense contradiction that somehow fittingly describe such love amazing well. The two pieces have nothing in common, except for everything.

Last year, as we studied the poem "Metaphor" by Eve Marriam, a student suggested looking at th e video Five Finger Death Punch's "I Remember Everything".  We pulled it up on Youtube. The student told me that the poem reminded him of the video because he felt the poem's theme of starting with a new, blank page each day was similar to, and yet starkly different from,  the idea of the video, which he felt expressed the idea that while we all start with a blank page or canvas, every event of our lives, each and every moment, leaves its mark, and the splatterings, sketches, scrawls, blotches, and smears, whether beautiful or gruesome, all become part of the masterpiece that is one's life. That discussion after class became a writing assignment, and an interesting classroom discussion.

Not all of the lessons such as this connect with each and every kids. Some are monumental flops. And, I must admit, I have seen my share of eye rolls and heard the "knowing" sighs when I have talked over the years about a lesson amongst some of my teaching peers. I am blessed right now to be a part of an amazingly supportive ELA team. My colleagues ask the right questions, make suggestions, and support not just me, but everyone on the team as we work to get better and stretch as learners and teachers. It has not always been that way. Maybe I have done it too often, and perhaps sometimes I have reached a little. Maybe. I do not mind defending the choices I make in my classroom.

As part of our recent study, the students had an option of responding to a writing prompt regarding whether it is appropriate or inappropriate to examine songs such as "Love the Way You Lie" is an Honors English class. As I graded papers earlier this week, the work of several students stood out in their arguments for why we should continue such lessons. After reading several of them, I decided it was time I let one of my student's voices be heard. I could have chosen several pieces. One young man's essay struck me, so I spoke to him on Friday and asked if he would be willing to let me use his response in my blog. I wanted to use him as a guest author, if you will. The young man is modest, but he said that he was not opposed to the idea. So, with no further ado, I will allow Mr. Paddy Qiu, a student in my Honors Sophomore English class at BHS, to reinforce just why it is ok to hear songs coming from Mr. Kohls's room, or any room in fact, during class, and that maybe, just maybe, something 'educational' is actually occurring.

Paddy Qiu

Mr. Kohls

Honors Sophomore English

September 20, 2016

“Love The Way You Lie” Thematic Analysis

In society, there is a general consensus on certain discussion topics. As we experience constant breakthroughs intellectually, our attitudes on these topics still remain static. This type of orthodox self-censorship has remained prominent in the general public. A commonly taboo subject for discussion is domestic abuse. The general public deems discussion of this topic inappropriate, despite the fact that it’s one of the most prominent issues affecting the world around us. To bring light to the matter, discussion is a must if we want significant change. In the narrative of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem, featuring Rihanna, there is a plethora of figurative language and themes often missed as a whole. Through analyses, I found underlying messages hidden within the lyrics. In this paper, I will be touching upon significant themes scattered throughout and further clarifying my perception of them, because change doesn’t begin with a shout, it begins with a whisper.

In the song’s lyrics, it has a comparatively realistic representation of interactions within an abusive relationship because they express not only the physical aspects, but also the psychological ones. For example, evidently after a negative encounter, the male character states that “But your temper's just as bad as mine is, you're the same as me. When it comes to love you're just as blinded” to imply that the female character abuses him equally. In certain abusive relationships, the dominant party attempts to justify their actions by pointing out the behavior of the other, thereby taking attention away from their own. As a result, it makes the other behave compliantly within the relationship. Another example of a more realistic portrayal of abuse within the song is the attitude acquired from it as stated by Rihanna’s verse, “Just gonna stand there and watch me burn. Well that's all right because I like the way it hurts.” It’s a common myth in society that because an individual is in a destructive relationship, that some part of them must enjoy being in them. That’s partly due to the fact that, as stated in the lyric, the abused tend to convince themselves of that attitude. Many factors contribute to their stance of the situation, but a significant correlation is the abuser’s influence on their victim. As stated in the first example, the abuser takes attention away from themselves and brings it to the negative aspects of the abused, thereby persuading them that they’re not a victim. Therefore, the song not only shows the negative implications of physical abuse, but also the effect of mental manipulation.

Another aspect in “Love the Way You Lie” that’s a necessary point of discussion is the deception, not only to each other, but themselves. For example, the male character stated to his partner that “Baby please come back, / it wasn't you, baby it was me. / Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems.” In the situation of the verse, the abused character is planning on leaving the relationship once again, and he attempts to bring them back by instilling a false sense of security and hope. As a result, the author presents a situation more commonly portrayed within media. Another example of deception in “Love the Way You Lie” is when the author portrayed deception of one’s self. After the previous lyric, Eminem rapped, “Guess that they don't know you cause today, that was yesterday. / Yesterday is over it's a different day. / Sound like broken records playing over.” In this verse, the male character acknowledged that their relationship was going to a cycle like a record; however, he still is attempting to convince himself that the status of it was still preservable. This aspect of a destructive relationship is something that popular culture often miss. In such partnerships, the abuser, as stated in the previous paragraph, attempts to justify their actions. This is another form of this phenomenon. This denial and deception of one’s self, which the authors cover in many verses, plays a major part in justifying abusive actions. Therefore, though romanticized at some points, the song as a whole puts forward another perspective not commonly touch upon.

Within the song “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem, there were many underlying messages hidden within the lyrics. The song itself presented a completely new perspective on not just physical aspects of destructive relationships, but also the psychological ones. It also conveyed the point that deception, in most cases, can occur within the abuser, usually to justify their actions. The discussion of this topic in particular, is taboo in most communities. Having dialogue about this subject is a step outside of the social norm, and it brings about reform that will have a significant impact on our future. Change doesn’t begin with a shout, it begins a whisper, and I hope that this allowed you to not be afraid to speak about it.

Get Out of the Way and Let them Learn

A while back, I wrote a blog post titled "Get Out of the Way and Just Listen". It focused on how sometimes, I just need to step back and listen to my kids. My son and daughter teach me on a daily basis, and listening to my schools kids is the most rewarding part of my teaching. Some of you may be saying, "Well, duh. Of course we listen to our kids." Think about it though: how often do we truly listen to them, as opposed to listening for what we want to hear? Did they deliver the "right' answer? Are they asking the same question as was asked yesterday? Are they on task? All important in the listening process, but is it truly LISTENING to what they have to say, actually grasping the nuggets that fall from those fertile minds. Nuggets that might sometimes look like petrified horse dung, but once rolled around a discussion start to gleam and shine. Or not. You never know.

This week, Greg Froese and I are trying something new.  He suggested it and prompted it. He is my partner is asking "Why not?" quite often. This one is a stretch even for both of us. It is scary. We want to listen to our seniors, not just as they answer a predetermined prompt or discuss an open-ended discussion question. We want to listen to what they have in their heads and hearts stemming from our Heroes Unit. So, we stepped back. This is what the assignment looks like on Google Classroom:

I can guess that some of you are critical. Where are the clear expectations of what is to be completed by the deadline? Well, show us what you learned. What rubric will be used to grade these products? Honestly, I do not know, mainly because I do not know what the products actually will be. And that is ok. It is a little scary, but it is ok. What if a student needs accommodations? Is that clearly written into the plan? Actually, yes, it is. The entire process is just that.

In the spirit of disclosure, we did do some discussion, review, and brainstorming before turning the kids loose. There was a bit of guidance. But then it was "Ready? Go!"

Some stared at me in fear. Some stared at me in confusion. Some stared at me in disbelief. And then they were off.  Some slowly, cautiously, as if they were waiting for me to say, "Just kidding. Here's the test!" Some awkwardly, confused by this odd freedom, but somehow feeling it was, maybe, a good thing. Some, well, some didn't actually go. They just stared. They wanted to be told what it was they were supposed to know so they could reproduce it, and they wanted to know the form that such a reproduction should take so they could get it 'right'. They needed to feel their way forward a little.

By the end of first hour, every kid was moving. At least a little. Here is the kicker. They were moving toward the same goal, in every possible direction. One student did not want me to know what she is going to do. It is going to "amazing" and it will be even better if I don't know. I also know for a fact that she dived headlong into her idea and was still swimming in it at the end of second hour. I may need to apologize to her math teacher. I will never, however, apologize for her reaction. Kids were asking about ideas, wondering if pulling in thoughts they had had about movies or books that related to our study but were "not part of the lesson" could be included in their products. Could a creative writing idea be used, or a new comic book hero idea?

I am darn near giddy at this point.

Part of my excitement is fueled by my honors sophomores, who did an independent research activity this week to learn about Edgar Allan Poe. They needed to present the twelve details they learned about his life, lives, and literature in some engaging way. They had to cite their sources and write (PIs). Other than that, they were wide open in their approach. Two students asked me if they could possibly extend the deadline. Why? Well, they write and create music, and had begun writing a piece and wanted to produce a music video that presents their research. By all means, go above and beyond.

I am not sure exactly what will become of this week's approach. I know that for at least a few kids, the freedom is, well, freeing. They are excited, and they are stretching themselves. And I am getting out of the way.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Collaboration - An Exciting Beginning

I have not blogged much recently, but sometimes, no matter how busy a person is, something happens that demands to be shared. Today was one of those days.

"What happened?" one might ask. Well, this happened:



Before I detail today's events, let me track back to the their genesis. Several years ago, budgets were cut for education (an occurrence that would be be repeated, unfortunately, repeatedly over the last few years). Our districts' elementary students would not be allowed to go on their year-end field trip due to cost restraints. One kindergarten teacher, Sandy Rempel, contacted me, and we come up with the idea of making BHS a destination for our "littles". Our district is rather spread out, so establishing an a connection between our elementary students with our high school can be somewhat challenging. We want our kids to grow up dreaming of being "Crusaders". We promote that in sports with youth camps. We wanted, and still want, to find other opportunities to build our district identity. This was one of those opportunities.  Our kindergarteners from UV traveled to Buhler and spent time with my English students, among others. We read together, told stories, and played. They spent time doing art activities in Mrs. Smith's room. It was a great experience. Over time, the school year was shortened to allow for bond construction, and the day was eliminated from the schedule.

Last summer, during a Twitterchat, I mentioned those days. Sandy Rempel replied that we needed to revive them, somehow. Cindy Couchman, our assistant superintendent of curriculum and instruction, was also taking part in the Twitterchat, and she supported the ideas. From that exchange, Sandy and I began planning a collaboration. Today, the first meeting of that collaboration took place. In short, the kinders came to visit, and my sophomore English students interviewed them. The goal was to get to know them, their interests, and their personalities. With that information, my students will write children's stories as part of our short story study. They will develop protagonists based on their "littles", and the plots will be built upon what they learned from their time with the kindergarten partners. After writing the stories, we will once again get together. The students will share their stories with their kinders, and the kinders will then illustrate the stories. Finally, we will print these books, and come together for a celebration at the end of the semester, with each student, both HS and K, receiving a copy of his or her book.

I am even more excited about the project now than I was before the visit. The interaction between high school sophomores and their five year-old buddies was incredible. Shy kids in my class connected with their partners and began to shine. In depth conversations about Frozen and favorite foods took place. I saw patience that amazed me, I heard laughter, and I felt a special kind of energy. A young man who spent three days last week in ISS spent our entire interview time sitting next to a shy little girl, asking about her and filling a page with notes. One of my kids who has not said more than two sentences out loud in class without being prompted read not one, but three different books to his new little friend. The young lady who told me she really didn't think she should work with a little one because has no patience took pictures nonstop throughout the period, capturing some incredible moments with an expert eye. I saw another young lady look at me with eyes that said, "What do I do?" as her partner danced in circles around her; I think she was performing a scene from her favorite movie. It was a great morning.

Near the end of our time, Mrs. Rempel suggested we give the kids some time to "play" together, and we took them to the football field, which they loved. By they, I mean the kindergarteners and the sophomores. High school kids love recess. As we walked onto the field, I saw the image above, an image that summed up the day, that demonstrated why it was so worthwhile; it conveyed one of the key goals that we had hoped would be reached during the hour. Thank goodness for cellphones, or I would not be able to share that image. The sophomore girl is somewhat quiet in class, but she is bright, attentive, and thoughtful. She makes my class a better place. The young man does not speak and has an aide to help him in class. They made a connection, and they, and all of us who watched them, are better for it.

This is step one of the project, and it wa a great way to start. I cannot thank Mrs. Rempel enough for taking a risk and being so willing to work with us. Our administration, from the Central Office to our principals Paul Erickson and Michael Ellegood are supporting our efforts. Fellow teachers are diving in, such our media specialist at BHS, Janea Gray, who previously taught at the elementary level and is guiding me in and my kids in what we do. susan Jordan, an incredible paraprofessional in my class, and Laura Miller, a fellow teacher, are helping me pick up the slack in my room when we need it. And the kids. They are as excited as we are.

With all of those things going for us, how we not have an amazing learning experience that will make each and every one of us better?

So, what do you teach?"

Last week, I was moving from drill to drill on the final day of our football camp for future Crusaders when one of the Dads asked me what I teach.  The obvious answer might have been "I teach English." That would not have been incorrect, but, to be totally honest, it is not entirely correct either. I might have said, "I teach literature and composition." More specific, in a way, but not really a better answer. I might tell the parent, "I teach English and coach football." Still, not an answer that truly reveals what I teach. 

The most accurate, and to me the most important answer I can give is this: I teach kids.

Do not misunderstand me: I am not saying that our content is not important. It is. I have a a strong and valid reason for reason for teaching every piece of literary and writing content in my classes. These are important bits of information and vital skills that students will need to succeed. However, none of that means anything if I do not put the most important factor in its rightful place at the top of the list, at the front of my mind, in the most prominent position to guide my words and actions. I must remember, above all else, I teach kids.

Every day, 100 plus people will walk through my door, and each one of them carries his or her own skills and talents, dreams and fears, hopes and baggage. Those young people are who, and why, I teach. The instant I forget that, or I shift my focus to make the content material the most important consideration in my classroom, I need to find one of two things: someone to realign my priorities as a teacher or a different place to call my professional home.

Justin Coffey, the 2016 Kansas Teacher of the Year, expressed this thought well during a Voxer group discussion this week regarding how we will build deep and meaningful relationships with our students this year. I paraphrase the great teacher from Dodge City High School here, but his response was that he did not have some silver bullet or specific activity that he plans to build relationships. Instead, he spoke to the fact that building those relationships is about who we are and how we treat our students each day. It is not a line on a lesson plan: it is a part of who we are.

Mr. Coffey is right. I spent Friday in my room, making final preparations for the first week of school. The best part of my day was not writing lesson plans or selecting the first short story to teach. It was when a young lady came to my room after band practice and spent about an hour. We talked about band, her summer vacation, her class schedule, and countless other topics. we did not once talk about lines to memorize from Hamlet or how to better structure a sentence. That is not what it was about. It was about the fact that she is excited about the band's marching show and wanted to tell me about how far they have already come in learning the second movement.  It was about the fun she had on family trip and the concern she has for her friends as they enter their senior year. It is about the fact that no matter what else happens in her day, she can come to my room and laugh, talk, vent, or just sit. She is my student, and she always will be. She is one of our kids. My place is to help her grow in whatever way I can, and that has little to do with Shakespeare or research papers. That day, that young person strengthen my alignment of what is important. A few years ago, I received a message on Facebook from a former student. She told me that she had run across a copy of "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" and reminded of a day in class during Honors English her sophomore year when we discussed the poem. I love teaching that poem. It has so many layers to sift through, so many ideas to dissect that apply to our lives. However, the poem itself was not what stood out in her mind. What stood out in her mind was that I pulled her aside after class and told her that she should never be ashamed of being intelligent, that her ideas and thoughts were important. She said that she sees that conversation as a first step for her toward gaining self-confidence. With her intelligence and ability, this young lady should have been the confident person in any room; however, she had never seen herself that way, and she needed someone to give her permission to feel her own strength. I did not know that conversation was a big deal to her at the time, but it turned out it was. My daughter once wrote about "small, significant moments" in life. We never really know when they will occur, or what form they will take for the people around us. So, we need to make each moment potentially powerful in a positive way.

This week, we kick off the 2016-2017 school year. This is an exciting time across the country, for kids and for teachers. It is exciting for countless reasons, and each of us has our own fuel that will drive us this year. Hopefully, the fuel will drive us all is that each day, no matter what our grade levels, content areas, or units or subject of study, what we not only have to teach, but we GET TO TEACH, above all else,  is kids.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R34Iqsfy9kk

Can We Help Kids Love Reading?

This summer, the ELA team at Buhler High has been exploring new and exciting ways to better serve our kids when they once again pass through the doors of our classrooms this fall. Five of us ended up in the upstairs south hallway of BHS last week, and, as we made suggestions about possible classroom designs, laid claim to rolling carts, and help one another move furniture for individualized plans for flexible seating, we talked about new short stories and novels to use in class and new ways to encourage our kids to read. We had all attended either NerdCamp or EdCamp this summer, Twitter is turning into a treasure trove of experts, articles, and blogs that inspire and drive us, and Book Love is gaining traction as a book study selection for all of us, plus our middle school team members.

It is an exciting time, and it is a great day to be a Crusader.


As usually happens, however, when an idea gains momentum and begins to turn toward becoming a movement, questions arise. The question that we hope guides each and every decision in our school and our classrooms is "Is it good for kids?" If that is answered in the affirmative, the next question must be "How can we make it happen?" Our desire to use flexible seating, something that has been present in some form and to a moderate degree in many of our classrooms without it being named as such, is based upon doing what is best for each of kids, upon what will provide the best environment for each of those students to learn most effectively.

We are also considering those questions when we discuss how we approach reading in our classes. Developing the ability to read is, without argument, good for our kids. Developing a love of reading, which will help that ability develop, is good for kids. Developing live-long learners who can then tap into that love for and ability to read is definitely good for our kids. Now, how do we make that happen? Ah, there's the rub.

A friend and colleague of mine, Samantha Neill, wrote last week about how easy it is to kill a good book (read her blog). My last blog post was on reading ("Reading's for Rich People"). Miss Porter and I spent an hour this week just talking about "nerding out" about certain authors and topics and how we can transfer that to our students. I could go on. Reading and developing our kids into strong, effective, and engaged readers is prominent in our minds, and the fact that it is late June does not dampen that; it amplifies it because we are excited to embark on another journey with our kids in a few short weeks. The question remains and drives us: how can we make it happen?

One area we are discussing at length is student choice in reading in an effort to increase reading volume and engagement, and, in turn, build the stamina and skill to allow for higher-level reading. A recent Twitterchat discussion that I stumbled into raised the question of increasing reading volume. I lurked for a bit (yes, I do that on random interesting chats, and yes, I learn something important almost every time). Much of the conversation focused on increasing the number of books students read, setting up competitions and recognizing students who read the most books, creating book races to encourage students to read more books more quickly, and the like. Many of these ideas were focused on late elementary and middle school students. I wondered if this is really what we want as we try to develop a love of reading in our kids.

When my daughter was younger, early elementary age, she and her mother both became concerned because she scored rather low on the local reading assessment. I was not frustrated with her score or her ability to read; I knew where she stood when it came to comprehension, and we read together quite often. What I was frustrated with was that the sole local assessment in reading at that level was a timed fluency test in which the student was asked to read aloud for 60 seconds and the number of words she pronounced correctly was recorded. That was it. Now, I know developing fluency in readers is incredibly important. However, my daughter was told she was a poor reader based on this single assessment. My daughter has always been a thoughtful reader. If she read "The quick, brown fox jumped over the lazy dog," she was going to stop and wonder "why would a fox do such as ludicrous thing?" If she read a passage that used the color red in one sentence, and then used crimson in a later line, she was going to go back and reread the line using red because using two different words to describe the same, or similar, color must be important. She didn't put this habit aside simply because it was a fluency assessment. That never crossed her mind. She was reading, and, therefore, she was thinking. I am to blame for this. That is how we always read. We always asked questions, and we thought about it. I refused to apologize for teaching her that.

A few years ago, I had a student in honors freshman English who told me the first day that she was the best reader in her class. She could read multiple books over a weekend. I told her that was neat, and that we would read quite a bit, so that should help her. A couple of weeks later, she came in on Monday and told me she had read three books that weekend, including one I recommended, 1984. I told her I was excited, that we could talk about the novel. I asked her how she felt about Julia. She responded that didn't really have any feelings for her. That was interesting, as most students have strong feelings of some sort toward the boisterous member of the Junior Anti-Sex League who has an illicit affair with the novel's protagonist. I asked about how the rats were used in the interrogation, and she remembered rats but not why they were used. I asked her if the bullet entering the protagonist's brain was literal or metaphorical. She had not thoughts on that matter. "I read the book!" I remember her saying. "Can I take an AR test or something?" I had no doubt that she had read over every word in that classic novel. I also knew in my heart that she had not consumed the book in any way. She had just read it. Quickly. And that had always been enough. That had always been the goal.

We started talking more about what she read. She had to slow down, which was just a difficult for her to do as speeding up just to read more quickly was difficult for my daugher. She could still wolf down some things that she read, barely tasting anything but the most prominent flavors, but she had to develop the ability to recognize when to slow down, when to savor each page and paragraph as morsel to be enjoyed for its richness. Why was it so hard for her to do that? It was difficult because reading fast was what she did. She was good at it. It was her thing. Eventually, she seemed to learn that having truly in depth conversations about what she read, from Harry Potter to Fahrenheit 451, from "The Scarlet Ibis" to "Lamb to the Slaughter", could be just as rewarding as finishing a book before everyone else. However, she was reluctant and was even angry that her speed was not recognized as the most important aspect of her reading.

So, how do we develop the ability of our kids to read, to read well, and to read fluently, without developing robot readers? How do we push our students to be excited not because they finished a book but because the book was good and made them think as they read it? I honestly believe student a shift in attitude is paramount in this endeavor. We face the challenge of nudging students away from seeing reading as something they simply have to do and need to get done, quickly, toward an experience that worthwhile, rewarding, and, sometimes, enjoyable. Once again, we face the question of "How do we make it happen?"

I believe that two aspects of reading that can help propel the shift are choice and time. We should guide kids to read challenging pieces and the greatest of literature, but I also feel we should encourage them to read what grabs them.  Beowulf and Hamlet must be pieces we make accessible and guide our charges toward and through, but graphic novels that include stellar character development and intriguing plotlines can be an effective way to engage students in the act of reading and help them begin to develop as readers. Comic artist and graphic novelist Art Spiegelman said, "Comics are a gateway drug to literacy." We should not tear down a work a student likes and wants to read as being "fluff" when that "fluff" may be the very thing that draws a kid in and allows him to enjoy reading for the first time. After all, to get our kids to be strong, thoughtful readers, we must first allow them to become just plain readers. This is something that has been discussed quite a bit by Sam Neill, Greg Froese, Amber Neighbor, Andrew Bauer, and others lately in our English Nerds Voxer group. (On a related note, the powerful learning tool that is Twitter has allowed me to follow Tim Smyth @historycomics,  a powerful voice in advocating the use of comics to teach history and improve literacy. I have not met him face to face or heard him speak, but his passion online is evident, and he is more than willing to share lesson ideas.) This idea applies not only to comics, but also to popular literature that is often looked down upon by English teachers as not worthy of being allowed in their classrooms. Twilight, Goosebumps, Harry Potter, and many offerings from Nicholas Sparks come to mind.

We must also give students the time to read, especially if they are reluctant readers. Giving them the time may allow them to discover that they can actually get into what is printed on the page, especially a page that they have chosen to read. Once they do, they will be much more willing to give their time outside of our classrooms to reading as well. If we force them to see reading as only something they are forced to do and that only involves texts that hold nearly no interest or relevance to them, they will never shift from having to read to wanting to read. However, if we can move them toward wanting to read what they have found to be interesting and worthwhile and give them the time to do it, then they just might develop the skills that will make the more difficult texts accessible, and, therefore, open the door for them to read them as well.

And once that door opens, there is no limit on where they can go.

Reading's for Rich People

Summer is a time of travel and vacation. This summer, I have taken a trip to Alabama, where I spent time with an old friend who had grown up, and I discovered that I know longer like her as much. She is kind of annoying, and her loveable and endearing naivete is gone. Later, I made a pass through Tennessee, through a land of low mountains and caves, small towns and family farms. I discovered that this part of our country is apparently inhabited by some deeply disturbed individuals. Deeply disturbed. Right now, I am on a trip through the mountains Mexico, making the trip on horseback from New Mexico south. It has been an interesting journey, and I am anxious to see what lies ahead. It reminds me of last summer when  I made another trip through Mexico and spent time on a wide hacienda. I have been on some amazing rides, let me tell you. 

In years past, I was blessed to peer into the lives of some amazing men, including the greatest football coach of his time, a man once approached during the same elections season by both the Democratic and Republican parties about serving as a vice presidential candidate.

Now, if you know me, you are incredibly confused at this point. You know that I would rather spend a summer working football camps and painting than paying for any type of vacation. My family sees a trip to Wichita as an adventure, and hitting Krispy Kreme while the Hot and Fresh sign is flashing is a major event. So what is up? Bear with me. 

In the remake of the classic football/prison movie, The Longest Yard, the character played by Chris Rock and known as Caretaker tells a fellow con, a massive manchild who cannot read, that he should not worry; reading's for rich people. Now, I put a great deal of thought into the literary value and the poetic truths that can be gleaned from cinematic offerings. This movie, while a fun 90 minutes or so of jokes, innuendo, music montages, and football footage, is not a masterpiece. However, this line actually carries quite a bit of meaning despite its comedic intentions. 

Reading is, in fact, for rich people. 

That can be taken a number of different ways. First, reading makes a man, makes any person rich. Knowledge currency, and knowledge is power. Reading allows the acquisition of knowledge. To read is to learn. This summer, I have read blog entries on teaching strategies, flexible seating, engaging reluctant readers, motivating today's young athletes, defending the no back, and so many other topics. I am growing more professionally now than at any time on my career as a teacher. Twitter, reading in 140 character bites, has opened up a world of learning opportunities for me, and I am invigorated. I am rich. 

Reading also allows me to experience moments that I would never experience otherwise. That trip to Alabama? I booked that through Harper Lee (RIP). The disturbing jaunt through the mountains? Cormac McCarthy guided me down those dark roads, as well as the horseback rides rides through Mexico. A few summers back, I met Vince Lombardi in a somewhat intimate way through a volume titled When Pride Still Mattered. Each time I read, I go somewhere, I experience something, I meet someone that is most likely far beyond my pedestrian reach. But through the pages of a book, through the artfully crafted words of masters, I can go anywhere, and I can experience almost anything. I am rich. 

The way I look at it, I was given my inheritance early in life. My earliest memories include books and newspapers.  My dad, a carpenter whose best high school yearbook picture showed him drooling and asleep with his head on a desk, was one of the most educated men I have ever met. Sure, he took some college classes through Barton County outreach over the years, but that is not even part of what makes him such an impressive individual, education-wise. At any given time. anywhere from three to seven books would be stacked up next to Dad's chair in the living room. Biographies, historical accounts, and political texts would sit open, marking the page where Dad had paused in his reading. Each day's newspaper was scanned by eyes that absorbed ideas and rhetoric from text and filed it away for discussion and consideration later. I do not remember sitting in Dad's lap as his finger tracked the words of the Mobile Ledger, but I do remember having my own spot on the floor, where those papers and my books would be scattered. Mom's chair had its own mountain of reading material; historical fiction novels were more her style, but the stacks were no less impressive, and the turnover was just as consistent and constant. If Dad was busy reading in the evening, it did no good to go to Mom; she was reading too. My parents opened an account for me and my siblings early in life, and they made deposits faithfully as we grew up. The reading habit was own trust fund, and, believe, me, we were rich. 

I have done my best to give my daughter and son the same type of early inheritance I was granted. Their mom's side table usually has a book. Heidi reads the daily paper before I get up each day, and Heidi and Emily pass magazines back and forth. I was third on the list when Go Set a Watchman came in after Heidi pre-ordered it. Emily has her own blog and many of her paintings and drawing as inspired by her reading. Dylan reads and writes an hour each day this summer because he wants to be a writer, and that is his summer workout. His Christmas list was a bookstore shopping list. My hope is that their inheritance can be even close to the one passed to me. 

In addition to my blessed progeny, I am also blessed to work a number of other young people who each year become "my kids". It is my duty to do whatever I can to pass on a love of reading to them. Unfortunately, I do not have a lifetime with each of them. So, what we do has to be powerful, and it has to effective. That is the rub, as the Bard would say. How can I help each student who passes through my door make deposits into the trust fund that reading provides. Some have wealth when they walk in. I need to help them invest and build their capital. Others are nearly broke. I have find a way to help those young people invest. It is vital that they do so. 

I want them to be rich. 

Teacher Treasure

Today, I was given something that can only be described as a Teacher Treasure. If you are one of the fortunate souls who finds himself happily immersed in the world of teaching, living the lifestyle, you know exactly what a Teacher Treasure is.

What exactly is this prize? A young lady emailed me and asked for my help. The help is honestly nothing, but it was the motivation for the request that is a gold deblume of the highest purity. The young lady making the request was a student of mine this year in Honors Sophomore English, and she is a poet. She filled me in on a little project that she and a friend, another student in HSE, were working on. The poet, M, thrived during our study of spoken word poetry, and her partner in rhyme, L, is a bit of a videographer. They had developed this project in which M's poetry might come to life through L's gifts with visual storytelling. They are almost finished shooting the footage they plan to use but were in need of one more location: a classroom. M wondered if I would be able to help them out. They hated to ask, but they also knew I would not be able to say "No."

A request to let two students into a classroom to shoot footage for a spoken word poetry film project, a project being undertaken not to complete some assignment and earn an A, but to feed a hunger to create, to produce, to grow.

That, my friends, is Teacher Treasure.

How can I view it in any other way? Two students are learning and growing, on their own, tapping into strengths that they have discovered and that they are letting me in on. I won't make a penny more from the experience, and I cannot claim it for professional development points that will help be relicense when the time comes. And yet, that email is as rewarding as anything one could imagine. The poet and filmmaker probably have no idea that I would see the email not as an imposition or duty but as a blessing. They will know how much it will mean to me view the finished product. I won't pretend not to be immensely proud of them both. After all, I try to be sincere with my kids, and to hide that pride would be unfair to them. Besides, when it comes down to it, I owe them, and every one of those kids who have filled my life with these moments.

We have to remember that, and never forget to collect those glittering moments, whether they be a note from former student who has reached new levels of success, a graduation photo of a paper tiger, a clipping recounting a championship run, a post on a creative writing blog, or simply a smile on a morning when you tell a kid "Nice job". We need to rummage through the treasure trove from time to time,  peering into the golden surfaces and the clear diamond depths, remembering what makes them so valuable and why they so effectively purchase the passion that makes this more than a vocation.

When Kids Make You Tear Up

I am going to admit that this is one of those posts that rambles a bit. I am not sure exactly where I was headed, but I felt compelled to write about this, so I did. - JK

"Are you crying?"

That was a question posed in my classroom a couple of weeks ago. And yes, it was lobbed my way. Actually, I was not really crying. I just had a little moisture on my lower eyelid that resembled a tear.  If you had been in my room, you would understand.

At that point, I was laughing so hard, water fell out of my eyes. One student had just completed a reading of his Spoken Word Poem, a masterpiece titled "Mr. Kohls". One of the kids looked up at me and queried, "Mr. Kohls, are you crying?"

I answered honestly. "I've teared up several times this hour." Why lie? It was their fault.

We were wrapping up our poetry study as the school year wound down, and I had challenged my honors sophomores to pen a spoken word poem which they would then present to the class. Of course, "Do we have to say it out loud?" was the first question. I am not sure what part of "spoken word" the student was missing, but I answered, "Yes, but I won't make you stand up."

"Oh, ok then," he responded. It was the easy. As long as he didn't have to stand up, it was all good.

My kids are weird sometimes.

At other times, they are amazing. That day, I told them to get out their cell phones and place them on top of their laptops. I then told them to leave them there was we left the room and headed out to Crusader Field. I was going to lock the door, and everything would be all right. We were going outside, and we were going to write, on paper, with pencils. We spent the next 45 minutes scattered around the green turf and maroon endzones, kids sprawled out on the surface or leaning up against up against the goalposts. And, for the most part, they wrote. When one student said he could not come up with something to write, I told him to write about that. One young lady asked me to read what she had started; it was a piece on how the world might change if we didn't have cell phones.

"The room is lit up like a blazing fire had just been ignited.
But not a single light switch is turned on..."

Some would not let me see what they had written, while others asked me multiple times to check out what was scrawled on the notebook paper. One class was even a little late getting to their next hour because we lost track of time because they were into what they were doing. On the way inside, Raegan thanked me. When I asked her what for, she told me it was the longest she had gone without looking at her phone in as long as she could remember, and she felt good about that. She had written more, and better, than she had in a long time.

(On a side note, I geek out about tech in our classrooms. We are 1:1 laptops, and I love it. We are nearly paperless. I let my kids use their phones to do things in class, and I let them listen to music when they write or read. On this day, however, I felt like leaving it all behind was worthwhile.)

The next day, my second hour begged to do it again.

Now, I won't try to tell you that each and every one of the kids produced a masterpiece worthy of high literary praise. and not every topic was earth-shattering, at least not on the surface, but they were their topics and their words, and not a single kid balked at producing and presenting. Some of the pieces stood out, however, and, yes, they caused moisture to collect across my bottom eyelids.

One young lady wrote about how horrible she felt as she thought of having to present what she had written to our class. Her voice quivered as she began to deliver her lines, and her eyes never rose from the page that shook in her hands. She uttered one of the greatest lines I have heard as she personified her anxiety:

"He is the weight on my back telling me to stand up straighter as he holds me down."

She finished, and as she took a deep breath in the silence before the first class member started the traditional snaps, I heard someone across the room whisper, "Wow." The activity for the day would not appear explicitly anywhere on a state assessment report card, but it was a victory, not just for Emma, but for so many of the kids who had a chance to shine that day. The girl who wrote that family is not everything, at least not for her, because her family situation is something she must overcome, the boy who penned a piece about his social anxiety and presented for the first time all year in any class, the multiple young ladies who wrote about doubting their self-worth because they question whether what they see in the mirror each day will be seen as pretty. I am not sure if it is because I am the father of a daughter or because these girls are truly good and beautiful people who should never doubt their value, but that one bothered me. One student wrote passionately of the love she has for music, painting a picture of little girl dreaming of being a lead singer in a rock band, only to discover that she couldn't sing. Another wrote of her love of 'home': 

"Home-grown

Like a seed planted in the soil

Watered and weeded

We grow taller and taller

Our buds aching to find the sun

Twisting around to be graced by the bright

Warm

Light

But still anchored firmly in the ground..."

One poem was inspired by Hakuna Mutata of The Lion King fame, and another explored the importance of eye-contact. One young man wrote about the feeling of hurling pitches from the mound while another penned an ode to the weight room. I could go on and on. The topics were as diverse and wide-ranging as, well, the personalities of the people I am blessed to work with each day.  I was given a brief glimpse into the hearts of some of these kids, a little shutter flash that many struggle to allow. It makes them vulnerable, and for some of those kids, that is the last thing they want to feel when they come to school. If they are going to let me in, if they are going to sincere and genuine with me, I owe it to them to be same. So, if I tear up listening to them read, I am not ashamed to let them see that. My "football coach" status does not preclude me from letting them see me as vulnerable. It is not always fun or easy for me, as was put on display when my fifth-hour seniors demanded I read them the poem I had handed them just before class ended on their last day, a piece titled "A Letter to my Seniors". I wasn't planning to read it outloud to them because I knew I would struggle to make it, but when Tiffanie said, "Hey, you made us read our stuff," I had no way out. They deserve my sincerity. Every one of my kids does.

And they continue return the investment many times over.

The PLN at Our Fingertips

In the last year or so, I have had the distinct pleasure of taking part in something that invigorates me as a teacher and supplies me with a seemingly bottomless treasure chest of resources and motivation as I try to work more effectively with my students. If this was an infomercial, now would be the time when the enthralled host would breathlessly utter "And what magical experience would that be, and how can our viewers get in on this?" The answer is simple: I discovered the modern tools to help me develop my PLN, or Professional Learning Network.

Before you click the X in the corner of the page and abandon this page, let me beg you to bear with me just a little longer because "WAIT! There's more!"

I am proud, and a little embarrassed, to be honest, to say that I am a 2016 Kansas Teacher of the Year Semi-Finalist. This program has allowed me to spend several days visiting the districts of truly talented teachers from around central Kansas. We get to ask each other questions, laugh together, learn what the world outside of our classrooms looks like, and explore the different ways we can work with our kids each day. It has been an amazing experience. Getting together, talking about what they do, learning from one another, and exploring ways we can continue to stay connected even after our tours are over has been a gift. These are amazing teachers and people: why wouldn't we want to stay in touch and continue to draw on one another to become better at what we do?  Without the KTOY program, I probably would not have met these exemplary people. I am truly blessed to have this opportunity to become part of this circle, to be able to build my Profession Learning Network. Everyone should have this chance.

On the way home from Council Grove after our last tour, I commented to Jenn Keller, our elementary KTOY nominee and fellow Semi-Finalist, about a fact that struck me during this process. I coach football as well. Actually, the way I look at it, I have the pleasure of having multiple classrooms where I get to teach: Room 202 upstairs at BHS, the weightroom on the north end, and the practice and game fields where our boys play. Something is different though. As coaches, the PLN, while not called that, has been the basis for success and growth for ages. Coaches have been developing and building PLNs as a natural process and never think twice about it. Coaches seek out one another. If Bo Black runs a no back, no huddle system before everyone else in Kansas does, then Coach Warner makes a trip to Great Bend after we move to Buhler and they discuss how they do it, and more importantly, what might stop it. Coaches in Wichita mention how their LBs read the zone, and Coach Warner and I drive down to NW Wichita after school one day and talk football for three hours. Wisconsin runs the power play to perfection in the Rose Bowl, or Kansas State abuses defenses with run-pass options, so we get on the phone and set up ways to pick the coaches' brains about what they do in their programs.  Coaches talk, and if more than three are in a room for more than 12 minutes, a dry erase board is going to turn into what might look like a modern art piece as plays are drawn upon plays and defensive counters are diagramed out and adjustments are made.

And yet, a recent attempt to draw teachers from neighboring districts together in an effort to share, learn, and support one another was met with everything from skepticism to outright rejection. That is frustrating.

The desire to share and be a part of a bigger community of positive thinkers and innovators is present in all great professionals. Teachers are no different. In 2016, we have incredible opportunities to do just that. It is literally at our fingertips.  We can connect, not only with those teachers in our districts, but throughout the state, across the country, and beyond all borders. Thanks to some of my colleagues, I have been thrown into the community pool of Twitter Chats, Voxer, and the like. And, I can honestly say, "Come on in. The water is fine."

Thanks to these tools, I have, at my fingertips, the ability to not only share my thoughts, but to tap into the gifted minds of thousands of educators who have different experiences, varying resources, altered viewpoints, and extraordinary imaginations. Sometimes, this simply allows me to renew and recharge. I have selected three Twitter Chats that send up smoke signals for what is becoming my professional tribe (outside my hallway, building and district, which are still a source of terrific pride and energy. I am blessed to teach in Buhler): #leadupchat, #ecet2, and #ksedchat. Each one has its place, and I was drawn into each one by different people. One Monday, I was having a truly Monday Monday. I was grumbling, I was dark, and I was frustrated. I did not even intend to take part in the #ksedchat discussion that evening. However, at 8 pm, I opened up my tweetdeck, and took a glance or two at the feed over the next 10 minutes or so.  Soon, I was reading about how Ts (Teachers for those saving their 140 characters) engaged reluctant students. The ideas were flying, and commitment was clear. A couple struck a nerve with me, and I read more closely. Then I was engaged. At 9, I was disappointed it was over. I felt so much better. I could actually breath easier. My jaw was relaxed. And I began planning anew for the week.

Our district has been discussing how we can use Twitter Chats to help teachers develop and grow. The question was posed: Do Twitter Chats really offer anything more than a chance to toot our own horns? That is a legitimate questions. Twitter is, after all, SOCIAL media. What real good can come from it?

The answer is simple. Growth. Several weeks ago, I commented on a picture that Greg Froese (@Froese89) had taken while his seniors read poetry outside on the football field. The irony of the Thoreau-esque activity taking place on artificial turf was not lost. Shortly after, Suzanne Rogers, an AP English teacher from Arkansas had commented on the photo and asked if I had seen how "Thoreau" the rapper Macklemore had gone on his last album. She sent me a link to a video. BOOM. Lesson on Romanticism that will relate to my students today (after I edited 2 words from the video). Last week, I connected with a teacher who will be speaking a two ComiCons and a national social studies conventions on the topic using comics to teach history (and many other things). I had shared that we use "Walking Dead Mondays" in my English classes to help draw in students who might not otherwise be interested in plot development or character motivation. The discussion was during an #ecet2 edchat about engaging boys in the classroom. How am I, a lowly teacher in central Kansas, going to exchange ideas in an immediate fashion with a creative teacher who will be speaking to multitudes at the nation's largest ComiCon in San Diego? Guess what? I am doing it regularly now when I see the lessons he is teaching posted on Twitter.  Just this Saturday, I saw a comment on my Twitterfeed about distict Twitter Chats. I replied to the poster. Her response? "DM me, and we will chat." So I did, and we did. In between stops at garage sales, she enlightened me about the process she and her district has explored in using this tool to help their teachers and district grow. We can use this expertise in our own journey. The teacher, Ms. Denko, teaches 3rd grade in New Jersey. We might have crossed paths at some point without Twitter, but the odds are slim. I don't get to Jersey much.

Great, you might say, for you English teacher nerds. But wait. There's more. I recently set up Coach Warner's Tweetdeck. I had found this little Twitter Chat called #MeshPoint, which focuses on option football. That's right: we can even geek out about football plays.

It goes beyond Twitter Chats. This week, Dr. Randy Watson, the Kansas Commissioner of Education, spoke to me. In his voice. Ok, he was speaking to many of us, but he spoke to us. I was added to a group on Voxer that is pulling together Awesome Teachers from across Kansas. Dr. Watson has replied and even liked a couple of my comments on #ksedchat. He is a regular participant. He doesn't have to be, but he is. That means something to me, as he is a part of a positive and energetic town hall meeting of educators from across Kansas, not once a year or leading up to some election, but nearly every week. We have several Voxer groups in our district at this point, each one with a particular aim, from team communication to student celebration. It is just beginning to take off.

This is an exciting time in education. It is so easy to read the headlines and grow jaded and frustrated with how our state's leadership seems to be trying to tear us down. However, we owe it to our kids to keep growing, and in turn, help them to do the same. We do not need to wait for the district to approve the funds (which are being held up in Topeka) to send a group to some conference. We do not have to wait for a PD day speaker to lift us up and energize us with new ideas. Those activities have their place and are valuable. But we have so much at our disposal. We just need to tap into them. The PLN is out there, waiting for each and every one of us to "contribute our verse."

The Powerful "Why Not?"

I have a slight problem. Not quite an addiction, but quite possibly a compulsion. On Twitter or Facebook, or even in everyday life, if someone quotes a movie line, I feel the nearly irresistible urge to follow up with the next line. If Rob Hedrick, a friend who lived across the hall at Baker, posts "You will report to the stables tonight and every night at precisely 1900 hours" I feel obligated to follow up with "And without that pledge pin!" If Lacy Pitts tweets, "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?" it is my obligation to reply, "Germans? Forget it. He's rolling." Oh, and, unfortunately, I have recited, word for word, "I, state your name..."

In short, I am "that guy".

However, not all is lost. Something good has come from this. To quote Bluto in response to the question "Pinto? Why Pinto?":

"Why Not?"

That short, explosive line has become somewhat of a battle cry.  It has allowed me to take some risks, and it has given me the freedom to step outside of the proverbial box. It has become a mindset, at times. 

I am blessed to work with some incredibly talented people. Steve Warner is a top-notch as they come on the football field, and I have had the good fortune of working with him for 12 years and counting. Several years ago, we had a tough football player that we needed to get on the field. He was not one of our top linebackers, and he was only about 160 pound soaked in the mud he carried with him from the field at Topeka Hayden. I remember commenting to Coach Warner and Kevin Ruda, our defensive line coach, that I wished we could put the kid, named Austin Ortiz, down on the defensive line, just because he was so tough. Their response? "Why not?" So, a 160 pound, tough, wiry kid lined up across from 260 offensive linemen, and he beat them. He recovered two fumbles against Hayden in our playoff victory on their field. He won all-league and all-state honors. Why? Why Not? The next year we decided to look for another player to fill that bill. Austin's brother, Levi Boman, a 2nd-team all-league free safety the year before, slid into a three-point stance. Why? Why not? First Team All-league and all-state honors. State semifinals. In the 2013 season? Scott Whitson, a 165 pound wrestler who had lined up at corner up to that point, wreaked havoc on offenses from the 2 tech position and helped raise a State Championship trophy. Why? Why not?

The talent pool of teachers I call colleagues is even deeper than just talented coaches. In the ELA hallway, I have an amazing mix of creative and passionate teammates from which to steal ideas on a daily basis. This afternoon, Greg Froese and I were discussing the "Gimme 5 Challenge" he was completing, which asked for two of his greatest accomplishments this year. He was including the Ideal Human Prototype lesson and our Sonnet Throwdown. I value the opportunity to collaborate with Greg on a daily basis. Greg makes me a better teacher, in part because he supports my "Why not?" addiction. A few months ago, Greg talked to me about this Ideal Human Prototype idea he was developing, and I loved it. I told him I was game to use it in my senior English class too. Why not? I came down a few days later with an idea that had come to me in the truck that morning and asked Greg what he thought about applying the IHP idea to Sweet 16 March Madness bracket of literary figures. His response: "Why not?" So we did. The depth of the conversations and the passion of the arguments as Atticus and Batman, Katniss and Han Solo battled through the brackets was impressive and exhilarating. When I told my classes as they worked on team rotational sonnet writing that Mr. Froese's classes had challenged them to see which class was more talented (they actually hadn't, but my classes responded as I had hoped), and my students took up the challenge, Greg and I collectively asked "Why not?" Thus, the Sonnet Throwdown was born. At this moment, the final rankings are in a sealed envelope held by Price-Waterhouse, and the trophy will be awarded at the BHS Has Talent Show on April 20. Even the trophy was basically a response to "could you somehow create a trophy?" One "why not", some collaboration with the ag-mech teacher, some time on the plasma cutter, and application of the talent of Josh Potter later, our trophy was complete.

This afternoon, I was visiting with Janea Gray, our Media/Tech Specialist. She had come to my room this morning with some ideas for "Poem in Your Pocket Day" next week. We tossed out an idea of a Hit and Run Poetry Slam in the LMC on Thursday. My honors sophomores seemed interested. Mr. Knapp thought his juniors could jump in. So, when we weighed whether we should try to make the idea into reality, Janea and I came to one conclusion: why not? If it tanked, all we were out was a little time and the effort it would take me to move back a couch or two. I am excited to see how it goes. It should be a blast. Why wouldn't I be excited? 

Why not?

Why wouldn't I try something new?

Why wouldn't I try to go a full week without complaining?

Why wouldn't I take part in a new Twitterchat?

Why wouldn't I choose to be positive if I possibly can?

Why wouldn't I sign up for EdCamp?

Why wouldn't I try to be a better, happier, more effective teacher?

"Why not?" indeed.