Twits Tweets Twoots Twerps: I Get It Now

I made myself a badge, since I was just that inspired by #badgechatK12.

Well, I suppose the time has come to admit that I was wrong. Pull up a chair, make a cup of your hot beverage of choice (FLAMIN' HOT CHOCOLATE! JUST BURN IT!), and listen to this one, general public, because sincere public apologies over the Internet are a rare treat.

When I took my Education 504 class during my master's program 4.5 years ago, I was introduced to Twitter. In fact, there was a whole class session devoted to teaching my classmates and me to use Twitter. The instructors showed all of us how Twitter could be utilized as a great networking tool, as a quick and useful way to interact with other professionals and exchange educational resources with other teachers from around the world. Later that day, my classmates and I were required to write a reflective blog entry about using Twitter, and I came up with this.

Back then, I professed my annoyance with the fact that the name of everything related to Twitter contained a horrible bird pun. Back in 2010, my only prior experience with Twitter was using it with my sister. We had made accounts that we never intended to seriously use; had made crazy, fictional personas for our accounts; and had made our fictional characters/personas argue back and forth about nothing. Why? Because it was summer, we were 18 and 21 years old, and we had nothing to do one afternoon. Back in 2010, I had a hard time understanding why other people enjoyed Twitter so much and used it professionally, even after using it during class with my instructors.

This past Sunday, everything changed. My entire world (or, at least, the small part of it that consists of my thoughts about Twitter) was turned upside down. I updated my professional Twitter account for the first time in a while, and I then did something monumental: I participated in my very first Twitter live chat! As soon as the chat started and I submitted my first tweet, I knew I was hooked.

The best part about education-related chats is the fact that one can simply jump right into the conversation. Participants are friendly and open-minded, and the conversations are so engaging. I felt very welcomed by the other teacher/administrator participants, and the love and passion that each participant had for his/her career really showed. I enjoyed sharing ideas and interacting with other professionals on #geniushour (Sunday) and #badgechatK12 (Monday). Both chats introduced me to new ideas and really got me thinking about the practices and procedures at my work place. I even had an opportunity to show off my MS Paint talents on #badgechatK12:

So here it is, Twitter, here is my official apology that was four years in the making: I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for thinking you were useless. I'm sorry that it took me this long to understand your value; you're actually rather addictive. I'm sorry that I have been teaching for this long without knowing what a great professional development tool you are. I'm sorry for dismissing you before really giving you a chance. I was 21 years old back then and clearly so naive. I am much older and wiser now! (Don't let my love of cartoons and pretty colors fool you!)

With all that said, though, I'm not entirely sorry for what I said in 2010. I'm not sorry about laughing at Twitter's terrible bird puns. I'm not sorry for cringing when I hear references to the "Hootsuite". It doesn't make sense, though; owls hoot. Owls don't tweet. If you're going to call it a "Hootsuite," then "tweets" should be called "hoots" and the "Hootsuite" should be the place all the "hoots" go to "chillax" together. What would "hoot" "chillaxing" look like? That's an entry for another day!

Twitter, take the apology and run with it; that's probably the best one you're getting from me until I figure out this whole "Hootsuite" ordeal.

In the meantime, follow my professional self on Twitter, since that actually means something now.

Student Motivation: Am I Actually Evil?

How I probably appear to some of my students.

Each student enters the classroom with a strong yearning to absorb new information. Students are not motivated by grades, prizes, or competition, but rather, by their own curiosity to understand the world around them.

...Okay, we ALL know that is a lie. 

Let's face it: A lot of students don't see the value in learning for the sake of learning. Some would rather spend their time taking selfies on their phones (Side note: why on earth are parents giving phones to middle schoolers?!) or playing video games for hours of the day than understanding how to balance a chemical equation or learning why the United States functions as a democracy.

I have found that a lot of middle and high school students think only in terms of the here and now. College is far away, so how I get there is irrelevant right now. Having a job in the future? Psh. I'll have the skills I need for a job when the time comes; it's too far away. If these students don't see the relevance or the value of their education, how does a teacher motivate them?

Over the past few years, I have experimented with student motivational techniques and have found a couple particularly amusing techniques that have worked. While deep down, I don't know how ethical these techniques really were (should I really have to "trick" students into learning?), they produced great results and maximized learning for students who were not necessarily motivated by the desire to learn for the sake of learning.

Young Teacher Challenges: Did I Say Too Much?

I am the only teacher at my school who does not give out my cell phone number to my advisory (otherwise known as "homeroom") students. While the other teachers at my school have assured me that their students only use their phone numbers to text them and tell them that they are not coming to school on a given day, I don't trust that my students wouldn't abuse the power of knowing my phone number, so I don't give it out for any reason.

I have taught at a charter high school since the beginning of the 2014/2015 school year, and while my overall experience in this school environment has been positive and comfortable, I have occasionally had students make awkward comments to me. Students have asked me to go to parties or have asked for permission to call me by my first name. I have to remind them that no, none of that is okay, because I am their teacher and not a fellow student. In talking to my co-workers about these comments, I found that one other young female teacher has dealt with similar awkward/invasive questions from students, and she has also reminded students to respect the student/teacher boundaries.

One of the challenges of my teaching career so far has been maintaining the aura of being an adult authority figure around all of my students for the full duration of the school year. The beginning of the school year is fine, but over time, when my students get to know me, some of them seem to start seeing me as more of an "older sister" figure than that of an adult who is trying to guide them towards achieving academic success. This has happened both last year at the middle school level and, to a greater extent, this year with high school students.

In some ways, I get it: I'm small, soft spoken, and have an overall non-threatening demeanor. It may be difficult for my high school students to view a person who is only 8-11 years their senior as a parental figure, as a person my age is too young to have a child in the high school age range. Add to that the fact that this person looks like she could be one of their peers, and we are left with some confused students.

I often find myself in an odd predicament at work. Although I am an adult authority figure, there are times when I feel I can relate better to the students than to the other adults. All of my co-workers are older than me and are married, whereas I am in my mid-20s and am still at home with my parents and adult younger sister, saving money for my own house. I don't know what it's like to be married or have my own family, but I do know my video games and colorful cartoon shows. Just say the word "Pokemon", and I can talk for a very. long. time.

Sometimes, I feel uncomfortable when students ask me about my interests because I fear that revealing too much to them would cause them to further view me as a peer rather than an adult. I was warned by my mentor teacher last school year that as soon as a teacher lets his/her guard down and allows the students to get too comfortable, that teacher has a much more difficult time with classroom management because the students will no longer see that teacher as an authority figure, but rather, a peer. Peers do a poor job managing a classroom. On the other hand, we, as teachers, are always encouraged to share who we are with our students. Students form a deeper emotional connection to the person they see as more than just the adult in front of the classroom trying to teach them comma rules. Deeper emotional connections with the adults at school can ultimately lead to greater student success.

What are some effective strategies that younger teachers use to further assert themselves as authority figures? Where do you draw the line when determining how much information to share about yourself with students, and why?

I Love You, Snow Day... You Stupid Jerk.

I have lived in the Midwest for my entire life and am therefore accustomed to winters that include the bitter cold breezes, copious patches of slippery ice, and snow - inches and inches of snow, demanding to be shoveled. Challenging you to get to school and work in the morning. Beckoning you to throw your cares away by staying outside and playing a while.

The last couple of winters have brought the Midwest not just heavy snow, but snowpocalypse after snowpocalypse! In January 2014, most schools around my area had an extended winter break because of the snow fall. In fact, most schools around this area had more snow days than actual days of school in the month of January. After I started working at my last full-time job, which I started mid-way through January 2014, there was a point in which I had had more snow days than actual days of work on the job. If I'm being perfectly honest, I was not displeased about the large number of snow days at that point in time; the snow days ultimately reduced my level of stress because they gave me more time to plan lessons, which was helpful because I started working in the middle of the school year and didn't have a lot of time to prepare lessons before I started teaching.

Flash forward to now. January 2015 passed with minimal snow days, but over the weekend... Well, the snowpocalypse returned and has put most schools around here out for two days (and counting! There are rumors of more snow tonight!) While I have enjoyed sitting around in my pajamas the last couple of days, I am slowly getting stressed out thinking about what I have to do before Friday - tasks I can only accomplish while at work! And I feel like I have barely moved a muscle this weekend, too. Walking to the living room didn't used to feel like it took this much effort!

Like students, when I hear that a snowstorm is a'brewin', I stay up late checking news websites to see if school has been canceled. Then, if school is called off...well.... I'm not sure how I react. It depends.

I have always had a love/hate relationship with snow days. On one hand, it's an unexpected (and paid, for teachers) day off. Sleeping in never hurt anybody, right? No rush to get to work, no sarcastic comments from students, more time with the cats... Not a bad deal.

On the other hand, AHHHH, AN UNEXPECTED DAY OFF! How am I going to change my lesson plan to make up for this? Should I move the quiz to Thursday or Friday? Is it really important for the students to do that writing assignment? Can we still get this project done before the end of the quarter if I shift the entire lesson plan over a day? Do my students and I have enough time in the next two days to put together my class' booth for Friday's cultural fair? Basically, snow days are a planning nightmare! How can I relax when there is so much to think about? And what if there's another snow day tomorrow? Then I have to redo the lesson plan YET AGAIN.

I guess snow days, like anything else, are what you make of them. I could, for instance, choose to be stressed out, or I could choose to relax. Or a little bit of both, for the sake of variation and excitement on this day when I am otherwise stuck indoors. Yes, stuck inside...after I ate the last of my Girl Scout cookies (a story for another time.) Ugh.

What is the consensus, fellow educators: Do you embrace snow days with open arms, or are they simply too antagonistic to your lesson planning?