OneWordx12: Are you in?

It's almost here.

2021

So many people seem to be holding on to BIG hopes for the new year. 

I, personally, have always felt that New Year's Eve (much like prom and other big party-type events) are never as great as the build up. It's almost like the preparations hold all the fun and then actual event never lives up to the hype. I suspect this new year will be much the same. Call me a pessimist (I've never been called one before but there's not time like the present) but I can't imagine waking up on January 1st, 2021 feeling all that different than most of 2020.

We will still be in a pandemic. We will still be in a lockdown. We will still be watching the cases counts go up and the vaccination roll out being bungled.

But we can control how we react to our current reality.

After choosing to try out the One Word style resolution (is it a resolution??) for a few years, I wanted something different last year. I decided on trying to do one word each month for all 12 months. 

As Doug Peterson as mentioned a few times when my blogs were highlighted on This Week In Ontario EduBlogs I might be a genius! LOL! I can assure you that I am not. What I am is naturally reflective and I always found that my one word faded into the background and it didn't really fit a few months into the year.

This past year, my OneWordx12 was always in the back of my mind. I was constantly thinking about what my word might be and why it would fit. It took my natural reflections and ramped it up a notch. 

I am very much looking forward to completing OneWordx12 again this year. In 2020, I choose 13 words and wrote 11 blog posts. Most months my words were chosen last into the month and a few times I had them ready on the first. I do know what my word will be for January 2021 (at least I know right now! As I learning in 2020 my word can change multiple times in any given month and to be honest, I liked that part, too.). 

I'd love for others to join me this year. 

What words might you pick to reflect on your journey through 2021? How might picking 12 words help keep you focusing on moving forward with any goals you have and learning from your past experiences?

Here is a list of my 2020 words from OneWordx12 and each month is linked to the blog post (should you care to go back and see why I picked each word for the month. If you do join me and are one Twitter please use #OneWordx12 to help connect with others who are joining. It will be interesting to see and learn from the OneWordx12 choices of others. 

January- Renew

February- Motion

March- Appreciate

April- Breathe

May- Grace

June- Unlearn

July- Forward

August- Conscious

September-Connection

October- Impact/Moments

November- Wellness

December- Journey

Last Post of 2021. Looking ahead. One Word for 2022

 I didn't write a #OneWordx12 post for November.

I didn't write for December, either. 

But I thought about them a lot. I thought about what my word(s) might be. A lot. I almost sat down to write a number of times. But I didn't. The last 2 years have been so heavy. Have been so much. Have carried so much baggage into our daily lives. 

I started my #OneWordx12 posts back in January of 2020 when it was somewhat pre-pandemic times. COVID was around but it wasn't here yet (it probably was...). Schools were still open. I went out to dinner with friends. I attended OLASC. I became the OSLA VP and spent a weekend in Toronto at a table with with other people. I shopped. It was the end of life as we knew it and the start of now. 

When I started choosing and writing my one word per month Doug Peterson thought it was a great idea. The world was changing so rapidly and how could one word ever hope to encompass and entire year? Choosing a new word each month allowed me to reflect on what I was feeling, where the world was, how education was changing and (puke) pivoting to this new reality. 

But after 2 years of choosing words and thinking about where I was, where we were, and where we were all going ... it started to feel heavy as well. My #OneWordx12 project started to feel connected to the pandemic even though it didn't start out that way. I started to feel like I was always reflecting on the things we'd lost, the negatives that were part of our new routines and not on the joy that still exists in our world. The joy that still exists in schools and the school library. 

The word "normal" is such a weird word. It barely describes anything if you really think about it. One person's normal almost never matches another person's normal. There is no central normal that fits society. Normal is about as far from normal as we can get. It's a lazy word used to describe the past that wasn't ever normal but maintained a certain comfort level for a small percentage of people. 

Normal is definitely a colonialist construct. 

Matthew R. Morris wrote a thought provoking blog post about being "Back to Normal. Sort of." and I found myself re-reading it and being drawn into the ideas from it a number of times throughout November and December. Being back at school feels almost normal but not. The library is open and students are getting books but they can only come in whole class groups, every other week which is not normal. They are so happy to be in the space choosing books and tinkering with small stations but I am constantly reminding students to pull up their masks and to maintain distance which is not normal. Some of the kids ask about whether the library is safe, is it clean, is it okay to be in there since they weren't allowed last year... which is not normal and devastatingly sad. 

And always on the back of my mind is the question of whether the "normal" of the library was ever good enough to begin with? Were all students able to access the library in a way that supported them and their learning needs? Was free flow an equitable model when not all educators supported and allowed students to come to the space? How might the return to free flow book exchange look different after COVID in order to create a more equitable space for all learners? 

You could say that my word for November and December was normal. Or the reflection on the word normal. What might normal mean? Do we even want to return to normal? Is normal a word that we even want to use in relation to the school library? 

I will not be continuing my #OneWordx12 for 2022. 

I guess you could say I'll be returning to the "normal" of choosing just one word for year... or I won't. I haven't really decided. I like the idea of choosing a word for myself personally but can't wrap my head around how it might encompass all that is my professional life as a teacher-librarian. I'd like to write more about the everyday happenings in the library, about the books I'm reading, the resources I'm curating, the thought processes that goes into all of it. I'd like to blog more. I'd like to set a goal to blog more and stick to it. I'd like to find a way to be intentional in my blogging and reflecting. The #OneWordx12 did help with that... how might I adapt the process of choosing one word each month to maintain my intentions as I reflect on the school library and education? 

Today is the last day of 2021 and while the new year typically brings thoughts of renewal and hope it seems very muted and far from hopeful this year. Omicron has become a normal word in our vocabulary. We still use pivot and unprecedented (puke) way too often. The education system (especially here in Ontario) feels like a raging dumpster fire most days. But there are the moments and small pockets of joy. And without falling into the dangers of toxic positivity I do think we need to share and revel in those moments... and the reflection they should prompt. How might we recreate these small moments for others? What actions might help to spread joy? How can we learn to live within our current reality without constantly obsessing over it? 

Maybe that's where the intentional nature of blogging will come from- normal/not normal and pockets of joy? Perhaps two posts each month?

Time will tell. 

OneWordx12 - January 2024

 Well, it’s been a minute since I blogged. 🫣 

I decided I wanted to redo my OneWordx12 challenge from a few years ago for 2024. Pick one word each month through the year that represents my thoughts, ideas, goals, plans, experiences, etc. 

The last 12+ months have definitely been a transitional period for me, mostly professional but some personal, too. As I moved back into the classroom last year and onto Kindergarten this year I’ve really been thinking about what I want my time away from work to look like, what I want it to be filled with, what I want to occupy my time, energy and space. 

As I’ve already attended my last OSLA meeting I no longer have any obligations to any volunteer or outside educational focused endeavours. Our podcast has been on ice for quite awhile as I found I couldn’t really keep it up the way I wanted on my own. I also decided not to attend any conferences this year. I quit Twitter/X and only occasionally post on BlueSkies or IG/Threads.  My time for the most part is mine. 

That’s a pretty new experience for me. 

I don’t know why but I don’t feel any urge or drive to push or cultivate any professional experiences beyond what’s happening in my own classroom with my students, books I’ve chosen to read for myself, or a few asynchronous opportunities I’ve taken advantage of recently.

Is it screen burnout from the pandemic? Maybe. Is it a desire to be the learner and not the facilitator? Likely. The TL role in schools and if you take it farther into the public sphere, like I did, creates space where people are often looking to you for ideas, advice, support and advocacy. Which was awesome. Until it wasn’t. 

I spent a lot of the pandemic alone (professionally). Either at home or in a closed library. There was very little scope for collaboration as I had known it previously and people were drowning in their own worries, learning and planning for online learning. I think in many ways it destroyed my desire to be in the library. To be a team of one. And yes, as a TL I was connected with other TLs and many of my colleagues in my school but I was still the only one. And due to the unprecedented situation there were a lot of demands on my time, energy, resources etc and without collaboration in the sense I was used to it felt like very little was coming back to me. 

I’ve written before about going back to the classroom and missing kids and that true. But I think it’s important to also recognize that in education educators take a lot from each other and don’t always give back. Teaching is a social sport. A team sport. A group effort. But not all team members pull their weight. That’s true of all teams, groups, clubs. It can become a weight though on those giving, giving, giving. 

In the classroom, and especially in a new grade, I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to come up with new, innovative ideas all the time. I don’t have to walk people through my initiatives and convince them it’s a good idea. The last 4 months have been about curating sparks for what I might want to try in my class. Talking every day with my partner. Reflecting in the moment as we see learning happen, as we see growth, as a provocation sits and fails. 

I see friends and colleagues that have continued to give and give. Either through podcasting, presenting at conferences and workshops, joining in for new volunteer experiences, social media, etc. I’m happy they do because they are brilliant and talented educators but I also worry if they feel like I did/do. Are they getting enough back from others to keep up the pace? Or are the drowning but worry if they don’t help than no one will? 

So to get back on track with the purpose of this blog, my OneWordx12 for January with be Start. Or perhaps re-start is a better choice. 

Start to pay attention to those glimmers in my professional life. What sparks joy for me? Starting asking myself “Why am I sharing this photo/thought/etc on social media at this moment?” Start focusing on opportunities where I feel balanced in what I’m sharing versus how I’m growing. Start reflecting again through blogging? Or perhaps re-start my bullet journal habit? 

Here’s to the start of 2024. May your time be filled with moments that fulfil your spirit and kindle your love of teaching. 

~Beth 

One Word x 12

My first post on this blog was about my One Word for 2018 and you can find it here.  I talked about how my word for 2017 was conquer and my word for 2018 would be nourish. I didn't blog about my word for 2019 but it was evolve. 

All good words.

All good intentions when I picked them to start off the year. 

I love the thought behind choosing a word to represent your goals and your plans rather than a New Year's Resolution. I like the idea of being more intentional throughout the entire year and being able to encompass a number and variety of goals. 

Writing a New Year's Resolution seems very small and narrow. Or too large and too vague. 

Choosing one word feels more open to actual change. More open to follow through. More open to adaptation and flexibility as the year shifts and changes.

Twelve months is a long time, however. So much can change in a single year. 

This year I want to be responsive to my year as it ebbs, flows, changes and spirals. 

I've decided to choose One Word for each month of the year in 2020. 

I am not going to choose the words ahead of time, meaning that I will not have all twelve months planned right now. I am going to choose January's word and focus on that for now. 

I have started a list of possible words that I might want to use throughout the year. I've been looking on Instagram and Twitter to see what other people are choosing. I found a great resource from BookCampPD where educators are sharing their One Word using an image and in some cases their reasoning for choosing their word.

My current list contains these words:

Renew

Elevate

Amplify

Patience

Embrace

Moment

Intentions

Gratitude

Present

It's not twelve words yet and that's okay. I may not use some of these words and that's okay. I may repeat some of these words depending on how my year evolves and that's okay. I may choose more than one word for a month and that's okay.

I'm hoping planning to blog about my OneWordx12 each month as I choose them. I'm hoping that this will not only help me to blog more regularly but that my word choice will continue to be intentional as I strive to explain and defend my word choices. 

I've created a list on my Google Keep with the following picture as a header. I will be tracking my ideas for future OneWordx12 there as I hear new words. Perhaps I will keep some notes about my thoughts prior to blogging. (My love for Google Keep could be an entire other blog post!)

My word for January is going to be...

I've chosen this for a number of reasons. First, the start of the year is always a time of renewal. It's a time when we set goals. It's a time when we look to the future. It's a time when we reflect and plan.

I have a number of habits I'd like to renew this year that I enjoyed in the past but due to life let them fall by the wayside.

For example, this is my first blog post since the beginning of October...

I'd like to focus more on eating healthy and exercising more consistently. Making this (and me) and priority. The girls are old enough now that I should be able to take time to do this during the day and they should be able to entertain themselves.

I love using my bullet journal as a creative outlet and as a way to plan and schedule my busy life. I've joined a Facebook group that is focusing on #100DaysofNotebooking (hosted by Michelle Haseltine @Mhaseltine on Twitter) and I'm hoping that this will inspire me to reflect more often, to write more often and to take time to express myself creatively- either through writing or doodling. 

Do you choose One Word? Do you make New Year's Resolutions? 

What are your goals for the new year and the new decade? 

The Journey Continues

 I have written this blog post a dozen times in my head already.

I'd say that's why I'm not writing my December OneWordx12 post until Dec 12th but upon looking back at the the last few months it would appear that most of my one word posts have been published this late into the month. I wonder if that's because it's 2020 and everything seems to be just a little bit harder (and somethings so very much harder) or the nature of trying to choose one word to represent an entire month 12 times through the year?

As this is my first time doing OneWordx12, I don't really have an answer.

I know that picking this word has been an uphill battle. Not in a bad way but due to the fact that I couldn't seem to settle on one word and the circumstances and emotions around the word kept changing.

The first word I wanted to pick was teacher.

The word teacher is such a big word. And it means so many things to so many people. In a recent conversation Chris Cluff posed a question about the idea of "if you take the idea of being a teacher out of your identity, who are you?" and it really stuck with me.

During the lock down last spring I wrote this blog about being (or not) a teacher-librarian  and I had been feeling similar feelings about my current role except now looking at the "teacher" part of the equation.

Many people have asked how this year is going and how I feel and for a lot of the time I answered that I no longer felt like a teacher. 

An instructional coach? Yes. A curator? Yes. A book deliverer? Yes. A storytime reader? Yes. But a teacher? No.

My access to working with students between September and now has been very limited. And I fully recognize that most educators are barely keeping their heads above water these days so inviting another educator into their space (virtual or otherwise) to co-plan and co-teach is an added layer that they can't handle. So I read a lot of books to a lot of classes. I asked some questions and discussed some ideas.

But was it teaching? I don't know. It didn't feel like it.

But then it was almost as if a light switch was turned on and all of a sudden people were looking for me to join them to teach. Perhaps they were feeling like they had a handle on this year a little more. Perhaps it was that they wanted to explore coding and had very little experience of their own. Whatever the reason, the word teacher didn't seem to quite fit in the same way for December. I had been hoping that by choosing it I would focus on the ways in which I was still teaching, even if it was small or with adults, but the sentiment didn't seem as necessary anymore.

The second word I wanted to pick was decenter.

As it always seems with December (and for the most part November) we are slapped in the face with Christmas as soon as Halloween is over. I am a big believer that all things Christmas should wait until at least November 12th in order to give space to Remembrance Day. This year it seems many people who celebrate Christmas needed the cheer and sparkle a little earlier than usual this year and started putting up their trees and decorations sooner than normal. We put ours up on American Thanksgiving which is a about a week early for us. And I get that desire.... at home. 

I understand why people might be feeling the need for more cheer and sparkle this year but as always, I struggle with the amount of Christmas that is brought into the schools.

Every activity in December doesn't need to have an element of Christmas in it. There's no need for reindeer math or Santa letters (That's a whole other blog post...). And there shouldn't be a tree or an elf on the shelf in any classroom. In my opinion.

While I hear people's reasoning that it's not the religious aspects of Christmas and that many of the children like it, I wonder what message we are sending when our classrooms continue to mimic the dominant culture of the wider society. Do these same educators who put up Christmas tree and center so many of their activities in December around Christmas do the same for every other holiday? Do they also do menorah math and dreidel writing prompts? Do they find a way to ensure that Diwali and Eid are the centre of all the activities in their classroom during the months in which they fall?

I think if we are devoted to being anti-racist educators who decolonize our teaching, our bookshelves, our assessments then we also need to be prepared to take a hard look at Christmas as ask how we can decenter it in our schools. 

So why didn't I pick decenter as my December word? 

Well, I think it goes back to my first choice in words- teacher.

I'm not with students all the time. I'm not creating a community classroom space for these discussions. I don't feel as those I have the leverage in which to enact direct change. I can discuss the ideas with my colleagues (I have). I can add ideas and link articles in my library weekly update (I have). I can join in with Twitter threads and post my thoughts (I have). 

But if I'm not a teacher in a classroom space can I actually create meaningful change? 

I don't know. 

I don't know how much or even if many of my colleagues are reading my library weekly updates. I don't know if they are looking at the articles I am linking and taking the time to reflect on their practice. I don't know if they are seeing it as another add-on and skimming past. I don't know. 

And so upon reflection it felt like journey would be a better word for the last month of 2020. Because what a journey this year has been. And what a journey we are still in. 

The pandemic is nowhere near over. The journey of dealing with that and the far-reaching affects on the education system will be something we are dealing with for many years to come. The cultural reckoning that has taken place this year as people grapple with ideas about white supremacy and being antiracist need to continue to be pushed to the forefront of our consciousness and confronted every day in all spaces. 

By choosing the word journey I can continue to reflect on both my roles as a teacher and as a librarian and how I use those roles to push forward the need to decenter the dominant culture in our school spaces.

 

A New Year. A New Word.

 It's my second year attempting to choose a new word each month in order to stay reflective about what was happening around me and in my life. I threw out the idea of #OneWordx12 last year in January with the hope I'd do it all year long. 

In retrospect, it might be one of the only goals I accomplished that I set for myself in January 2020. 

I did a 20 in 2020 list. 

Much of it involved visiting places. Obviously much of it didn't happen. 

I haven't even looked back at it. 

I am working on a 21 in 2021 list but with a different focus. I want to list habits to make and habits to break and then track if I do (or don't do them) 21 times. Things like yoga, not ordering takeout, walking a certain distance each week, hiking with the girls, a week without spending, etc. A few years ago I was seriously into fitness and healthy eating. I was as fit as I've ever been and then a knee injury. And then physio. And then I got nervous every time I felt a twinge. And then I got lazy.

And so,

NOURISH.

I want to nourish my body with healthy food and better fitness routines.

I also think it's a good word to apply to my professional personal life. In the last year, I have gotten much better at setting boundaries for my personal time and not feeling guilty about saying no. I have gotten better at turning off the computer and reading books of my choosing. I have gotten better at picking up my crochet and working on a project. 

I want to continue to nourish my time and use it to do things I want to do. 

I also want to nourish my professional learning and participate in opportunities that intrigue and interest me. I want to nourish my professional relationships with people who sustain me and push my thinking forward. I want to read books that open my eyes, create new questions and nourish my mind.

I am excited to see where this year's #OneWordx12 takes me and that others are along for the ride. 

I loved this tweet from my friend, Alanna King this week:

My goal for January is to nourish the old me with an eye towards a new me.

One Word. My Word.

 I didn't write a post for June. But I did pick a word. 

I have been working to live my word since the start of June and now into July. I felt many times that I "should" write a blog post but I never did come to the computer and start to type. I wrote it a couple of times....but it was only in my head.

My word for June, and now July, has been listen. 

When I decided last year to pick a word for each month it had a lot to do with being more intentional about how I was feeling each month, reflecting on my professional goals and activities, the new learning I was undergoing as a teacher-librarian and an opportunity to share. As 2020 gave way to the pandemic and the entire world shifted it has changed to be more of a personal practice. My word for each month was often more about how I felt personally in my role as a teacher-librarian dealing with the pivot to remote and virtual learning than any professional learning I might be doing. 

I wrote a post last year reflecting on whether or not I was actually still a teacher-librarian if I wasn't in fact IN a school library. Looking back over that post it's easy for me to still recognize many of the same feelings and questions are swirling for me. I spent the entire school year as a virtual teacher-librarian. I worked very hard to find teachers who were interested in having me join their class for lessons and story times, I read many, many, many books to the school community as a whole, I curated, and curated, and curated. 

But it still wasn't the same. 

Looking back at my post from last year it's painful to see the start of the grieving process. 

And to know we are still in it. 

I have seen many posts from other educators on Twitter sharing their grief, pain and experiences as they attempt to heal this summer. Educators are working to take this summer for themselves. To read books. To be with family. To step away from the mess that was the last 18 months.... while knowing we face so many unknowns and so much chaos in the weeks to come as we slowly inch towards September.

My word for June and July is listen. I imagine that I will be keeping this word for August as well. I know when I started this journey I called it #OneWordx12. A word for every month. But as it is MY journey and MY process, I feel that if I want the same word for a number of months I can bend my own non-existent rules. 

I picked listen as my word for June because I had stopped listening. I had stopped listening to my body, to myself and to what I needed. 

May was hard.

I was trying to keep on as though things were back to "normal". I attempted to complete a PD certification through Nat Geo. I was still reading out loud 3-4 hours a day. I was curating and creating resources for up to 6 picture books a week to spark inquiry, learning and questioning. I was reading, reading, reading for my own unlearning. I was receiving and answering many emails a day from educators asking for help, to co-teach, to support tech needs. I was supporting both of my own children's online learning. I was re-teaching lessons and helping with assignments in the evening because they didn't feel comfortable asking their teacher's for help in a virtual space as they were both learning from their 5th teacher of the school year and no relationships had been formed. 

I wasn't sleeping. I had a headache every day. All day. My temper was short. I would fly off the handle for the smallest of reasons. Yelling. Then crying. Staring into space and feeling numb. 

I wasn't me. 

My husband and I agreed that I needed help. I needed it long before I asked for it. I needed it long before I let myself listen to my body. I needed it long before I got it. 

I reached out to my doctor and shared what was happening. I cried through a telephone appointment trying to explain my feelings.... feeling so, so guilty that I couldn't be all things for all people. That I couldn't be enough for me. I still feel guilty. He agreed that I needed help and prescribed an anti-depressant. He warned it would take awhile to take affect but it would help. We spoke about taking a leave for two weeks from work to let the medication settle in and for me to feel better. 

Through all of this I had a few friends that I reached out to and let them know what was happening. They checked in daily. They listened to me. They grieved with me. If they are reading this, thank you. I didn't know how much I needed your friendship until it was there are and a light for me. 

As May rolled into June I started to feel better little by little. The meds helped me to sleep. The headaches slowly eased off and a wonderful friend drove to my house to drop off some essential oils. She continued to check in. I waited and waited and waited for the paperwork to take a leave and have some breathing room.

The paperwork didn't come until the second week of June. School would be done in less that 15 days.

And so I continued to work. Until the end. 

I continued to reflect on my word. I listened. I found ways to slow down. I pulled my children out of virtual school. Each morning when it was time to login they would be sitting and crying in front of the screen and it wasn't worth it. If I was working on listening to myself then I also needed to listen to them. 

It's getting better. But it's not better. Yet. 

Too many people asking for something all at once still sets me off. I feel fractured and broken and unable to focus on their needs. My children's bickering is a daily stress that I often feel powerless against. My youngest has woken up in the night and come to sleep with us almost every night since March 2020. I miss sleeping through the night. 

But slowly I am feeling more like me. I am listening. 

When I need a minute I leave the room. I am voicing my needs to my children and breathing. I am asking for help when I need it. 

I am listening. 

It has taken me one and half months to share this post. I knew I would write it but I didn't know when. I wanted to feel strong enough to share it. Strong enough to own it. Strong enough to be vulnerable. 

I don't know if I'll write a #OneWordx12 post for August. It's creeping up on us and with it... September. The thought of what September will bring is scary.

But I will continue to listen. To myself. To my body. To my needs.

If you are educator who is using this summer for healing please know you aren't alone. 

It's hard for many educators to separate their self from their job. I am the worst at it. 

But if there was ever a summer to try, this is the one. 

Take time to listen. 

Maintaining Connection: September OneWordx12

 

It's almost back to school. We are now 4 days into September,

We've had three days of professional development here in my school board, plus one more next Tuesday before the students come back to the building. 

Many educators still don't know what grade or subjects they are teaching.

Many educators still don't know which physical classroom they will be in. Many educators don't know if they are going to be teaching virtually. There are so many things still unknown across the province as we head back to school.

I have been very lucky and blessed to learn that I will be remaining in the teacher-librarian role. While the physical space of the library learning commons in closed, I can still deliver books to classrooms. I can still do virtual story time. I can still co-teach using virtual tools. 

I can work to re-invent the teacher-librarian role and find ways to connect with the educators and learners in my building. And I'm hoping with the staff that will be working with students online as well.

My school is approximately 50% face to face and 50% online. This means 18 of our educators were moved from working in the physical building to teaching at the online school in my board.

That's a lot of educators that I won't see in the halls. I won't have a passing moment of connection when we discuss a moment from their class, someone asks a question about student, someone is looking for a book or resource to support their teaching. And when I reflect about the staff that will be in the building we will be so spread out as the classes are being placed in every other room, where possible, to maintain physical distancing in the halls. 

How might we actively work to maintain and 

build connections during this school year?

 

How will we lift each other up and be available to support each other when we are already feeling the stress of unknowns, the pandemic and life as we have known it for the last 6 months.

The world, and education, is starting to open it's eyes to the realities of racism, the harmful legacy of the colonial-settler history that has built our society, the ever-widening gaps in equity, resources and needs across our communities.

As we go back to school this year, I want to actively look at my role as the teacher-librarian and consistently be asking-

How can I work to create deep and meaningful connections with educators, students and their families?

The Great Pause. Or the Push Forward.

So June.

Specifically June 19th.

Is it just me or do each of the months just get longer and longer this year?

2020. For real.

Back in January I decided to do one word for each month of the year based on what was happening, how I was feeling, and the goals I wanted to accomplish. Doug Peterson mentioned back in May that I just might be a genius (Well.... wink wink!). In all seriousness, if there was any year in which to do this, 2020 was definitely the year. 

And here we are in the 6th month of the year. Halfway done. 

But does it really feel like half? 

Or does it feel like an eternity. 

In truth I've had this blog post rolling around my brain for 19th days now. I knew going into June what my one word would be. I knew mostly want I wanted to say and to share.

So why did it take me 19 days to sit down and write it?

Because 2020. 

A look back at my OneWordx12 for this past year before we get to June's word(s) and why. 

January- Renew

February- Motion

March- Appreciate

April- Breathe

May- Grace

It's an interesting progression of words. Discussing it might be a whole other blog post.

Back at the end of May I heard a colleague say that in a meeting they had someone in yet a different meting describe this time as "the great pause". 

That we'd all look back and see the time as when we stood still. 

When we took a pause. 

When we had time to spare.

And while I can see certain aspects of that, I'm not driving my kids around to activities, we aren't rushing home from school to eat dinner and head out again, we aren't making weekend plans just to wish we'd stayed home and relaxed, etc, there's so much more to this that is not a pause.

Of course, I must acknowledge the wide path of privilege I have walked in during this time. 

Both my husband and I are still fully employed and getting our full paycheques. We have fully functioning wifi (for the most part). Our children have devices on which they can learn or entertain themselves. No one in my family is sick, got sick, or was hospitalized. We own A LOT of books. We are not food insecure.

But I don't see this as a pause at all. If anything this has been a huge push forward. 

When I think of the learning gains undertaken by educators and support staff across the world to pivot to emergency distance learning and completely change the way in which we deliver the education system as never before. 

That is not a pause.

Considering the duality of the roles taken on by many parents and caregivers to not only do their own work and see to their own responsibilities but to become homeschool parents to multiple ages and grades of children when in most cases they hadn't taken part in an education setting since their own days in school 20 or more years ago. 

That is not a pause.

The door, the lock, the unspoken knowledge of the wide gap in equality of education, food security, wage inequality, home life, access to health care, and systemic racism was blown wide open during this time. Never again will people be able to say "I didn't know." 

If you don't know after this, it's because you don't want to know. 

This was not a great pause for many people.

This was stress. This was heartache. This was illness and death. This was wondering which bill to pay and which meal to eat. This was continuing to see how society treated you differently because of the colour of your skin. 

Inequality did not pause for COVID 19.

Food insecurities did not pause for COVID 19.

Racism did not pause for COVID 19. 

I hope this is the push forward.

I hope this is the point from which we unlearn. From which re-educate ourselves.

And that is my commitment. My word for June is unlearn. 

To confront my place in the truth of anti-Black racism and 

white supremacist structures here in Canada. 

To acknowledge my role and responsibility to 

understand the settler-colonizer history of this land that is now called Canada. 

To work to learn and take action to support the communities that live with the 

trauma of this daily oppression  and marginalization.

Given the importance and necessity of this work I think 

I will keep this word or choose a variation of the idea. 

This work will take a lifetime.

Impact/Moments

  I had my onewordx12 chosen for October.

I had it picked. I was ready.

Then I listened to Season 4 Episode 3 of Rolland Chidiac's and Chris Cluff's DeCodEd podcast. 

So many good gems. So much #thoughtfuel.

My original plan was to have my one word for October be impact as a follow up to 

September's one word which was connection. The return to school has been so different than any other year and I knew that having the library space closed to the students and

 educators would require an extra effort to build and maintain relationships. 

I have tried over the course of the first few weeks of the school year to reach out to all the educators, both in face-to-face and online school, at my school to find ways to support them and their learners.  

I wanted to keep moving forward with this idea and focus on how the programming from the library might be able to impact the learning of others and their journey. It's such a different experience being alone in the library all day compared the last three years where we have worked to create space that is open and available to all learners during the day. 

At the start of October I had a few days of feeling a little sorry for myself. 

I miss seeing kids and working with them on their learning on a regular basis. 

I love being able to do read alouds with classes and chatting about the books but it's not the same.

I know there are other educators feeling the same way that are in much tougher positions than me.

I am very privileged to be in my library role and to have to opportunity to be a support for the educators and learners in my school. I know I don't have to deal with the ups and downs of tech issues, reaching students who aren't engaged in this "new normal" of school. I know I don't need to worry about being in a cramped classroom without adequate distancing and trying to reimagine learning when so much of what educators are being asked to do goes against their knowledge of best practices and good pedagogy. I know I am fortunate that I was not reallocated from my library role. I know I am fortunate that I didn't have to wait to find out my assignment for the year and then still only have a few days in which to plan.

But I sometimes wonder if I should have volunteered to teach an online class and 

spend my day exploring and learning with a group of children.

All of this was swirling through my brain as September ended and October began. 

I could see how impact would be a good focus for the month.

How might I use my role in the library to 

impact the learning of others?

How might I be able to support educators and learners 

as they reimagined their own learning spaces 

and began to explore inquiries in this school year?

How might I begin to curate a rich collection of texts, 

both physically and virtually, to have an impact 

on the learning of our school community?  

And then I listened to Rolland and Chris' podcast over the course of two days as I drove to work. 

Perhaps a focus on moments would better serve me this month?

How can we seek out those moments of impact in our day to celebrate the 

connections we are making with learners?

How might we dive deep into those moments of doubt and create lasting impact from our learning?

What can I learn from my moments of sadness and loss? Because there is a lot of loss still to be processed about this school year and the end of the school year in the spring. How might that help be to become a better educator for my students and community?

And so I am choosing two words-

Impact.

Moments.

At this time, I see myself keeping these words through November and checking in with myself. 

What impact do I see my role in the library having on the education of those 

working and learning in my school community?

What moments will I embrace and use to drive learning forward?

How might I use these reflections to create more moments of impact?

The one with all the questions.

 Reciprocity.

Courageous for whom...?

Prove. Improve.

Knowing. Not Knowing. 

It's been an interesting few weeks leading up to choosing my #onewordx12 for May. 

(And as I write this... without a title... I'm still not sure I have picked it. 

I guess we'll see what happens at the end of the post. )

My usual process involves starting towards the end of the previous month where I reflect on the word I picked, where I am at that point and what might my goals be for the coming month. I am often influenced by an event or a spark that gets my mind going. Leading into May, however, it seemed like sparks were all around. 

I have been listening to Robin Wall Kimmerer's book Braiding Sweetgrass on my twice daily walks with the dog. The word and idea of reciprocity is a very central theme in the book, especially how it relates to nature, the land and Indigenous knowledge of the land. This led me to listen to Chey and Pav's episode of The Staffroom Podcast where they discussed reciprocity. I knew they had also read Braiding Sweetgrass and were delving deeper into how reciprocity might be embedded into their classroom practice. 

I like this word and this concept a lot. I think my philosophy of the role of the school library and the practice and pedagogy of being a school librarian is neatly encapsulated in the word reciprocity. The school library is not mine. I curate it on behalf of the community. (Thanks to Jenn Brown for that learning early in my journey as a teacher-librarian). My role is to build a collection that represents the community it serves and provides an opportunity to stretch in their learning. The users of a school library and the text collection is a reciprocal relationship. The books and materials exist to support the learners and the learners decide on the books and materials that need to be in the space.  

So it really looked like reciprocity might be the word for May. 

Until...

A new word and a new idea sparked in my head. I was able to tune in and listen to Chris Cluff and Rolland Chidiac's podcast on YouTube last Saturday morning while I was crocheting and drinking my coffee. A rare Saturday morning treat. Sitting still. Creating. AND listening to something of my choosing. Chris and Rolland's convos are always a treat and an assignment. An assignment because they send my thoughts spinning. Chris often refers to things as "thought fuel" and that is a great term for their podcast. 

They were discussing issues around leadership in schools, diversity in leadership, opportunities for leadership, power imbalances, conflict that arises and more. Chris at one point said "collaboration is the room and conflict is the table" which is a metaphor I'd really like to sit down and discuss with him one day. But it was when the idea of courageous conversations came up (and reminded me that I still need to read Glenn Singleton's book) and the question of "courageous for whom..." that I really took notice.

As a white, cisgender woman in the education system are these conversations around diversity and anti-racism courageous for me? Am I risking anything when I am a part of the conversation? How might my presence make another educator less comfortable and less willing to be part of a courageous conversation?

Am I bringing reciprocity to courageous conversations? Am I part of a reciprocal cycle of learning?

What is my role as a teacher librarian to model courageous conversations? Is it my role to model courageous conversations? It is undeniable that the teacher librarian role is often a leadership role within a school community. As a white cisgender woman how should I approach the possibility of courageous conversations with my colleagues while being cognizant of the fact that I am not risking anything compared to their experience and their journey within the education system? 

How might reciprocity and courageous conversations be connected? 

To add to the thought fuel mix (because there wasn't enough swirling) I listened to an episode of Brene Brown's Dare to Lead podcast that featured Adam Grant called "The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know" . The phrase "I'm not here to prove myself, I'm here to improve myself" was repeated throughout the episode. And what a mantra that is. I truly believe in and having been trying to to centre the voices of the authors, podcasters and educators of the global majority that I have been privileged to hear speak, to read the works of and to follow on social media. But is that enough?

Is sharing and amplifying the voices of those I am learning from part of a reciprocal relationship? Is it enough action? Is it action at all? Am I sharing my learning on social media as a means to help others or as a way of saying"Hey, look at me! I'm doing the work. See how good I am"? Is being aware of what you don't know, seeking to read and learn about it and then share with others part of reciprocal learning? Is it courageous?  

So. 

All these questions. 

So many questions.

More questions than answers. To be sure. And maybe that's the point?

So what shall the word for May be... ?

Let's go with query and see where it takes us. 

The Value Of

 

This year has brought a lot to our doorsteps and into our homes. 

The uncertainty and strain of job action and strike days. The constant attacks from the provincial government on the education system. 

The pandemic. 

The shift to emergency distance learning. The lockdown. The reopening plan that wasn't.

Increasing cases numbers. Increasing death rates. Multiple re-organization of classes and school assignments. The daily press conferences. Masks. 

Hand sanitizer. And so much more...

But I also think the year has brought some clarity. At least it has for me. 

I started the year by deciding to choose a new word each month instead a word for the whole year. 

What a year to pick.

I really enjoyed having the opportunity to reflect forward each month 

and be responsive to how I was feeling, the goals I wanted to achieve 

and the emotions I was having. 

I will be doing OneWordx12 again in 2021 

and I'd like to invite you to join me. 

In looking back over my blog posts and the words I picked 

I wanted to end the year focusing on the good things that 2020 brought into my life. 

I am an optimist by nature and usually look for the good in most situations. 

So what has this past year taught me?

The value of a hug. 

I am hugger. I hug my kids and my family a lot. I still hold hands with my mom when we go places together. I usually see my parents once a month (which doesn't sound like a lot until you know that we live 3.5 hours apart). I call my mom almost every day. Keeping distanced from my parents has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I've watched my children struggle because they miss Papa and Gram and talking through a screen is just not good enough. We are some of the lucky ones, though. COVID hasn't affected our family personally at this point but as I hugged my parents in a rest stop parking lot yesterday (while wearing a face shield and mask) I was struck by how important hugs are.

A hug says hello. A hug says goodbye. I missed you. I love you. You are important to me. I can't wait to see you again. I'm never letting go. I love you. I will never take the opportunity to hug people for granted again.

The value of a partner. 

A lot of people joked about being in lockdown with their partner. Driving each other up the wall. Never having space of their own. Small little habits that grate on their nerves. Being home with my husband from March until September when I returned to working in my school is by far the most amount of time I have ever spent with the man I married 13 years ago. I mean, we were in school and then had jobs for our entire relationship. The most time we'd ever spent together before this was our two week vacation to Disney with the girls in 2017. It's something to really think about- we marry people or commit to long term relationships with people we really only see on the weekends and for fleeting hours during the work week. The pandemic and the lockdown really showed me how much I have come to depend and rely on my husband. As my mom always says about my dad, "I'm not trading him for anything."

The value of a network.

As you get older and life gets busier and kids are thrown into the mix your friendships and networks shift. You only have so much time in the day. I am so grateful for the network that I have cultivated has an adult. Say what you will about social media but for many of us it was a lifeline this year. Being able to connect with friends and family at a distance through technology was necessary and vital. I'm thankful for friends who checked in on us. I'm thankful for #eduknitnight and the crafters I share my Tuesday nights with each week. I'm thankful for podcasting and the opportunity to speak with other people and learn their story. I'm thankful for Twitter and meeting educators who value the same things I do. 

The value of knowing your passion. 

I've written many times on this blog about my role as a teacher-librarian. I wrote in the spring that I wasn't sure I was still a librarian if I wasn't in the library. I wrote in the fall about whether I was still a teacher since I rarely see students these days. This year has taught me how much I love being an educator... in a role that gets to work with students. I have long been advised by many people what I should think about moving into admin, or a resource, or or or. I have long said it's not my path. I value the importance of good admin and resource roles. They are needed to drive change in a school. For me though, those role are too far away from students. I became a teacher because I love kids. Being a teacher-librarian, while I no longer have "my own" students I do get to interact with many, many students. I miss that more than I can explain. This year has taught me that being a teacher-librarian is the farthest role away from students that I want to have. 

The new year will be here in a few days. 2021. What will it bring?

Teaching Loss and Recovery.

I've been thinking a lot about teaching loss lately. It's an idea that has been weighing heavily on my mind. Pav Wander wrote a great bog post called "Is Teaching Loss a Myth, Too" that really resonated with me and has been sticky in my mind for the last month. (There's also a link to an episode of the Staffroom Podcast within Pav's blog that's totally worth a listen.)

The first month back to school this year has been hard. 

In many ways it's been harder than September 2020. 

There seems to be more emphasis on a return to "normal" even as the fourth wave of the pandemic is knocking at the door. In the school library learning commons I feel as though I have been walking a tight rope balancing act of what I know and believe to be good pedagogy and learning experiences for students against the current COVID protocols. Our space is set to open this week for the first set of students to test out the new routines and while I am beyond excited to have students in the space again I also know that every question related to making, tinkering, loose parts, Lego, Keva Planks etc is going to add a small new crack to my heart. I hope we can get back there soon. I hope once we see the routines in place and people are feeling more comfortable we will get back there. 

But my biggest fear is that we wont.

It's already been determined that I can't co-teach and collaborate in our space due to the size and shape of the tables. The students must all face forward and with pentagonal shaped tables that means only one student per table and I only have 13 tables. Once again, I am hoping that once the library routines are in place and I can better understand the time commitment needed to re-shelve and deal with book exchange without the benefit of helpers that I will be able to visit classes in their space to co-teach and collaborate. 

But my biggest fear is that we wont. 

People keep saying that we will get back to having a maker space. We will get back to having a free flow exchange system. We will get back to a school library that hums with students and excitement. 

But my biggest fear is that we wont. 

So how does this relate to teaching loss? 

Well, in my experience most educators' social and professional support circles contain a lot of other educators. And those in your circle who aren't educators don't always understand the nuances of the issues we are facing. So in my opinion, one of the biggest issues of teaching loss right now is the lack of a support system from within our own circles. Normally, educators would be able to be the shoulder to lean on, the ear to listen, the one to cry to, etc. But as we look back over the last 18 months of the pandemic and beyond that as public education has been under attack here in Ontario for almost 4 years people are wiped out. 

Exhausted. Depleted.  

I know that I often feel like I don't have the reserves to adequately support my friends when they are struggling at work and I always feel like I don't want to be the one to burden them with my own worries. I think we can describe this as teaching loss. Usually educators would be chatting in the hall, sharing ideas, thinking up unique ways to collaborate and co-teach. But the halls are quiet. People are trying to find a place they feel comfortable enough to un-mask and eat. Staff meetings and team meetings are virtual so there are people in my building I haven't even seen in person yet this year. No one is interested in the extras- teams, clubs, committees, etc. Everyone is tired. I also think many educators have rethought their priorities in terms of family time and volunteer time. If the extra that you gave in the past hasn't been valued or respected then how in times of stress and depletion do we keep on giving?

I'm worried for my colleagues and for myself. 

How do we get back to the joy of teaching when it seems like there isn't an end in sight to the struggle? 

How do we support ourselves and each other when it feels like we are already at the bottom? 

How do we trust that what we have lost isn't lost forever?

I think because of these thoughts that I am struggling to come up with my #OneWordx12 for October. In September I went with embrace and I did make a list of things I was grateful for and that made gave me moments of happiness. 

Perhaps a good choice of words is RECOVERY. 

What will be uncovered as we re-open the library? What new ways of connecting will be discovered through our virtual story times. How might we recover our joy?