Mary Poppins of Education

Mary Poppins has long been one of my four favorite philosophers. Well begun is half done. Enough is as good as a feast. Practically perfect in every way. Well, maybe not the last. But the first two, certainly. I want to be the Mary Poppins of education. I want to swoop in mysteriously, dazzle with my antics and be flagrantly self-possessed without being pretentious. Then, after I’ve ducked out, teachers find that the wind isn’t the only thing that has changed. Teachers feel revitalized and happier. That, more than anything else. I want my work with teachers to leave them happier. From happiness comes everything.

My other favorite philosophers? Mark Twain, Pippi Longstocking and Bob Dylan. I too don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

"Kids' Brains Are Sponges. Adults' Brains Are Bricks."

This is what one of my students told me one day, and, after I caught my breath, I paused. Crap, I thought. He’s right. Adults’ brains are bricks. Man, those adults, thinking they know everything already, that they’re done, that they don’t need to be down here in the trenches with the rest of us trying to figure out what it means to be a person in this world. That they — wait, hold on a second.

And that’s when it hit me. Double crap. I’m an adult! Albeit, I’m not a very good one —irreverence and tactlessness driving way too many of my actions — but still…

This is a tough brick to swallow. I want desperately to be right all the time. I need it. I need people to think that I’m the smartest, most insightful and most correct person around. I regularly tell my students, “The worst that could happen is that you’re wrong, and if you are, the world will keep spinning.” But, how okay am I with being wrong? Not okay. Not okay at all.

I’m no scientist, but even I know about all the synapses and axions and dendrites in a child’s brain — clicking and clacking away by leaps and bounds, thinking and questioning and wondering. When was the last time I did these things? I thought about adding the word “dendrite” to that previous sentence. I questioned what a dendrite actually was. I wondered if someone who did know what a dendrite was would comment on this post and make me look like an idiot.

Somehow, this doesn’t seem like the same thing.

When It Comes to Professional Development, We Need to Treat Teachers like Children

I’m not sure when “getting treated like a child” got such a bad rap, but I’d like to set the record straight. As a teacher, when it comes to my professional development, I would love to be treated like a child. In our classrooms, students’ needs and interests are considered. We recognize the importance of options, the need for buy-in and the benefits of joy. If they have already mastered a skill, we don’t make them sit there and do it again and again until the rest of the class catches up. Most of all, students (because they’re people) know when something is disingenuous or prescribed.

Let it be proclaimed from this mountaintop (or living room) that I am brimming with excitement and creativity, determined to change the face of teachers’ professional development forever - and for the better - by treating more teachers like children. But first, a nap.