The Promise of This Year #sol18
September 17, 2018
Last week, my very wise, mentor/cyber-colleague, posted this onto her twitter feed.
I responded with my gut, my instincts, my heart…
“The Promise of This Year”
On August 30, Colby Sharp retweet his own tweet from June 27, 2018
I printed it out and hung it above my desk.
I am often chasing fixes. Trying to solve all the problems within my purview. That’s not what I coach folks to do. I coach folks to think of one thing that they do sort of well and do it better and better. I should take my own advice…
So I am declaring publicly that THIS YEAR, I am going to think in that moment, with that teacher or that student, about what we are working on right then. As Colby says, one read aloud at a time, one conference at a time. One book talk at a time. One mini-lesson at a time. One small group at a time. Every minute.
If it doesn’t work this minute, perhaps it will work in the next. After all I am just planting seeds. Planting seeds. Casting them out and seeing what grows.
Last week, I wrote down a meditation mantra from 10% Happier. It was so simple, but it spoke volumes to me. Right now, it’s like this. Right now it’s like this.
Last week, I met with the literacy team in my building. The internet didn’t work, the chromebooks wouldn’t all boot up. One of them turned to me and told me a story about how she hadn’t planned a few weeks of her young sons’ summer days. It seemed like everything was a little bit wonky. She began to say, mostly to herself, I’m doing the best I can do. I wrote than down on a white board and added… I’m doing the best I can do, right now.
So perhaps tomorrow, a minilesson will flop or SOAR, technology will glitch or work perfectly, I’ll read a book that makes us laugh or smile or think. And I’ll be thankful. Thankful for Jessica Carey and Colby Sharp. For the kids and their jokes. For my colleagues that lift me up and the ones who keep me on my toes.
I’ll remember that it’s just this minilesson, this strategy group, this conference, this read aloud. I’ll notice a twinkle in someone’s eye, a half smile, and an almost-there. Because all I want is for everyone I work with, kiddos and grown-ups to know, I care about their success. I’m still going to be here tomorrow and we can do it all again or something entirely different.
That’s where our strength lives.
I’m grateful to my social media giants who hold me up even when they don’t know it. Read their amazing slices here at Two Writing Teachers.