All posts by Roxanna Dewey

AI, Oh My!

As a lifelong learner, I’m always learning new things. It keeps me young. About five minutes ago, I learned about Craiyon, an AI illustrator which will create anything you type into it. I’m in awe, and more importantly, I can see how I would use it. On Tuesday, I used a thinking protocol called See-Think-Wonder, learned from Betsey Wheeler, where students had to procure or draw an image which represented their research topics and discuss the image by answering the following questions: 1. What do you see?; 2. What do you think about it?; 3. What does it make you wonder?. I use this protocol to help students visualize their topic as an object, so it imprints in the front of their mind as they begin their scholarly investigations. The next time I do this, I’m going to have them use Craiyon. Oh! Maybe after my 101 students write their memoirs, I’ll have them generate an illustration with their own descriptions to see what happens when they literally create a picture with words. This is the extent I’ve used AI in my classroom.


We discussed the use of AI on the first day in one of my classes, and I asked students to use it as a tool to support what they are already creating but not to supplant it. A student offered feedback about how she uses it to finesse her sentence structure and typos in her writing, beyond Grammarly. Our first Writer’s Workshop is next week, so I think I will offer students that option. Of course, I’m thinking about how if they post their own work into ChatGPT, then they are adding to the proverbial “machine,” and I’m uncomfortable with the ethical implications, like how much is too much? Somewhere out there, Aldous Huxley must be saying, “See! I told you so!”


Beyond the classroom, I’ve used ChatGPT to generate a “strengthening and conditioning exercise routine for a middle aged woman,” “recipes to boost metabolism,” and “a healthy eating menu for a family of four and corresponding grocery lists.” On Linkedin, I’ve contributed to AI generated articles with my “human” professional expertise. I’ve also started to read about how it is being used to support neurodivergent students in breaking down potential barriers, which is important to me. Moving forward, since AI has clearly claimed permanent residence in our world, I’ll utilize it as a tool in my classroom, personal life, and research, but I will remain in ethical quandary.

 

A Few of My Favorite Things (Tools & Resources)

I have a few favorite resources and tools I use in my teaching practice. They’ve made it to my favorite list because they are functional, well-designed, and essentially make life easier for me and my students. My first favorite tool is Google docs, slides, websites, forms, and spreadsheets. As a teacher who started my career with chalkboards and overheads and paper files…ALL THE FILES, Google suite has been this writing gal’s dream come true. I can create a document that saves automatically, can share it with anyone at any time, and they can edit it, too?!? I use Google docs for EVERYTHING: peer review, writing workshop, class voting, embedding syllabi into Canvas, surveys, student information forms, student book selections, e-portfolios, demonstrating MLA and APA formatting, class projects (right now my EDU221/ENG102 Learning Community students are working on creating presentations specific to various stakeholders), showcasing student work like my ENH112 students’ stories about identity, and housing my millions (maybe billions?!?) of files.

My second favorite tool is PearDeck. PearDeck makes my life easier as an instructor because it makes formative assessment interactive and fun. I can ask thought provoking questions or ask how everyone is doing before class starts, and I can garner an immediate response from all students simultaneously. The drawing option certainly livens up things. Imagine 18 different images representing research topics or, for fun, 18 different interpretations of adding a costume to a jack-o-lantern. Other tools along the same vein are PollEverywhere, Padlet, and Kahoot. To sort groups, I like to use Random Team Generator, and to keep time during collaboration, I like to use any version of an online Egg Timer.

My third favorite resource is Spotify. I use it to create a playlist for each class based on responses about songs they find uplifting and have used it in the past to create theme-based playlists for different writing projects like This I Believe. I’ll play it while students are trickling into the classroom, grabbing snacks, and getting situated or in-between tasks. Spotify makes it easy to embed the playlist into Canvas, too.

Finally, my last favorite tool is Loom. As a Chrome extension, it makes it super simple to record a screencast or a video and embed it into Canvas to support instruction or weekly tasks. I’m sure I’ll think of something else as soon as I post this, but these are some of the tech resources and tools I use regularly.

 

You Belong Every Place

While age and enrollment status are key, the other demographics here also speak loudly: over half of our students are female and first generation with no or limited prior college experience, our occupational awards are equal to our transfer degrees, and, as an HSI, Hispanics make up more of our student population than any other ethnicity. Furthermore, we know our classrooms are also serving neurodivergent populations and those impacted by the current and severe mental health crisis. This is our community, and as a community college, our purpose is to serve the community in making all decisions with the following foresight: “How does this support our students?” A sense of belonging on campus is a paramount part of the puzzle, and as faculty, staff, and administration, we play the most essential role in fostering it. It starts with us. According to Sparks (2021), “A Review of Educational Research analysis of 46 studies found that strong teacher-student relationships were associated . . . with improvements on practically every measure schools care about: higher student academic engagement, attendance, grades, fewer disruptive behaviors. . . .” Furthermore, Maslow (1943) asserts belonging is one of the five basic needs associated with human motivation. We know our students are more likely to feel motivated and will be more likely to succeed and fulfill self-efficacy when they feel belongingness. A very wise special needs parent advocate once told me, “The child will always determine the place.” Meaning, if the student feels belongingness, then they will only thrive in the right place. Angelou believed in belonging to herself: “You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great…” (Goodreads, 2023). So, what does it mean to belong, and more importantly, how do we foster it on our campus?

To me, belonging means fitting in through: feeling a part of something greater, being respected and valued for my contributions, being recognized for my strengths and allowed weaknesses, and trusting my identity is also recognized and accepted. It isn’t new, and it is more than a buzzword. Thus, belonging is something I actively think about and plan for in my work as faculty at GCC. I’m not great with small talk, and I’d much prefer to simply get to work, but I try to make an effort to talk to my students when they come to class, know their preferred names and pronunciations, meet them where they are, offer referrals to other campus resources, welcome each one when they enter, offer them snacks, craft assignments which connect them to the content and their communities, constantly post campus events and happenings in Canvas Announcements, craft warmer-toned emails, use messaging in Canvas if they have fallen off of the radar, offer diverse readings, demonstrate gratitude and empathy when they share their circumstance with me, use music and humor, offer flexibility, maintain high standards and clear expectations, recruit for ENH112: Chicano Literature in hopes that it makes again (pero sin éxito), be real and do my best to be vulnerable and human if I make a mistake (post-COVID brain fog is real) or share a learning from my own experience. I have also been using Pear Deck to do emotional temperature “Check-ins.”

I’m not alone in these things. They are happening all over campus every day, all day. I know my colleagues and their commitment to the shared responsibility. I’m thinking to foster belonging on campus even more, possibly bolstering the concept of students belonging every place, it would take a team-approach where all of the current efforts are centralized, and we really seek a shared understanding and visibly address the invisible barriers for our students we may not be aware of.

References
Goodreads. (2023). A quote from conversations with Maya Angelou (literary conversations. Goodreads. Retrieved April 12, 2023, from https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/904289-you-only-are-free-when-you-realize-you-belong-no

Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review, 50 (4), 370-96.

Sparks, S. D. (2021, September 17). Why teacher-student relationships matter. Education Week. Retrieved April 12, 2023, from https://www.edweek.org/teaching-learning/why-teacher-student-relationships-matter/2019/03#:~:text=A%20Review%20of%20Educational%20Research,fewer%20disruptive%20behaviors%20and%20suspensions%2C

 

Literature: The Technological GOAT

I don’t know what I think about AI in education. To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. I know I should. Last night, I was grading an essay and “Ugh, what if this was written by AI? More importantly, what if I don’t know?” scrolled across my brain. Honestly, I don’t feel like I have the mental capacity to grapple with all the complications about this right now. It takes me time to process things. I did spend a little time with this article about using it to save time, though. 

So, what if I wrote, for this post, about another type of technology? In his Wonderworks: The 25 Most Powerful Inventions in the History of Literature, Dr. Angus Fletcher asserts one of the most powerful of technologies is literature. Yes! It’s true! With a background in neuroscience, Fletcher writes about different inventions in the technology of literature which function to offer different salves for the brain.

For example, he discusses the invention of the Sorrow Resolver through the plot of Hamlet. I reflected the following:

Hamlet was written after Hamnet’s passing? After all the years of studying Shakespeare, why have I not heard this before? It makes perfect sense. And as far as Nero goes, what exactly is a mechanical bedroom or killer yacht? If Shakespeare’s guide to grief was Cardano’s Comfort and the advice was to feel it like a man, it is interesting how he rebuffs it through Macduff in the Scottish play. I remember this part; although I didn’t think of it as a preface to therapy, only as support for Macduff exemplifying “a good man” and foiling Macbeth. If therapy surrounding grief has two parts of “acknowledging the hurt of the bereavement” and “dwelling on the happy memories,” then I understand Fletcher’s point regarding Macduff (130).  The analysis and rationale of the juicy revenge plot as a distraction from grief is also sound. However, it makes me contemplate how grieving women were treated, either in deflecting the grief or descending into madness.  When I read Hamlet, I was more enveloped in Ophelia and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern than I was Hamlet’s insufferable woe-is-me wandering. Hamlet had all the makings of a revenge plot which was never fulfilled because he fails with both revenge and the remembrance play (Fletcher 135).  Despite this, it has captivated audiences, though, because it is a demonstration of a character acknowledging grief, wallowing in grief, and moving through the actions of feeling guilty for not memorializing the dead “enough.” Grief is complicated and complex. No one demonstrates grief in the same way. It is not until the final act when grief is acknowledged as a public emotion and via Laertes, “Hamlet acknowledges that someone can feel like him” when he finds the guilt lift (Fletcher 136-37).  According to Fletcher, the “Sorrow Resolver” includes the “Grief Releaser” and the “Guilt Lifter” which work to lift the burden of feeling alone in grief which makes room for the dopamine and “happy memories” (138). 

This chapter has impeccable timing for me. My grandmother recently passed. Though she was 101 and suffering from dementia, I felt her loss acutely. She was my last grandparent and the one I was closest to. In watching my mom deal with the loss, I saw her not pausing until after the funeral, mass, and celebration of life because she wanted to be sure she created a memorial that lived up to what my grandmother would have wanted. As a grandchild, I was able to focus more on my own grief to stop and feel it, until I returned to work. It felt lonely because no one in my immediate household seemed to understand how I felt. When I was able to connect with my cousins, the burden was lifted a bit. In other ways, I have also felt grief, not through the physical loss of someone, but through the loss of life taking a different direction than what was intended or imagined. In both of those circumstances, at the time, I think I just kept moving the plot because I had to and probably was not ready to feel the accompanying intense emotions. Of course, it doesn’t mean the emotions go away, and certainly, if I talk to someone who has had a similar experience, it makes me feel like a part of something greater. There is comfort in that. 

Fletcher also explains an invention of the Tale Told from Our Future to excite curiosity. My reflection:

An example of a book I enjoyed that began with a story told from the future is The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. The book begins, “I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. . . .] That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out” (Hosseini 1). From the first page, the book is a page turner. Of course, it was used effectively to excite my curiosity the first time I encountered it because I love the line about the past clawing its way out. It’s perfect. It sets the stage for the entire novel because Amir spends his life attempting to atone for his decision that day. His choices and actions, at times throughout the novel, are despicable. Though, the reader has to grapple with the truth that he was an immature, spoiled child when he chose to leave Hassan. We are left questioning whether he can ever redeem himself into adulthood, even when he is beaten almost to death by Assef and rescues Sohrab from taking his own life; therein is the curiosity.  My subconscious must be attracted to this concept of “exciting the curiosity within” because many of the works listed in the chapter I have read, and I definitely enjoyed from riddle to thrill:  Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Macbeth, Gone Girl, Twilight, The Lovely Bones, and The Bourne Identity

Furthermore, Fletcher discusses the invention of the Stress Transformer to energize your life to which I reflected:

I found similarity in Fletcher’s description of “horror different” with what Stephen King asserts in his essay “Why We Crave Horror Movies.” Essentially, he says we watch the most aggressive of them because it keeps “the gators fed.” Horror movies are the raw meat we feed to the gators, our dark, nasty thoughts swimming around behind our “civilized forebrain” (King). I also liked the description about the concept that stress is not always harmful, and there can be good stress (that won’t kill you!). The concept reminded me about how when students are learning a new concept,  there may be struggle or resistance, and through the struggle, learning will emerge. I think the motto is, “Embrace the struggle.”

Every October, my fiancé and I use the month to watch a different horror movie every night. He chooses one night; I choose the next night. My choices are always lame and tame or hilarious dark comedies like Sean of the Dead or What We Do in the Shadows. His are always the scariest:  Friday the 13th, Halloween, Salem’s Lot, or the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (THE most terrifying movie I’ve ever seen). The last horror film that energized me was probably Get Out or Open Water.  For a book, it will always be The Stand. Though, I recently read I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, and that one stuck with me for a while. Anything dealing with real life horror typically resonates heavier with me. As far as a film that took me beyond dangerous and made me laugh, it was either Midsommar or the end of the original Friday the 13th. The last scene in Midsommer was just…I have no words. As a child, I  used to love Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and reading about ghosts like the Amityville Horror, too. When I think about the difference between the horror that energized me, there was real fear ingrained in me through the experience, and the plots, characters made me think. The horror that made me laugh was because I didn’t have another reaction as I was beyond shock.

Additionally, he explains the invention of the Fairy-Tale Twist to rid pessimism. My thoughts:

I am a Disney kid. Growing up, I loved all the movies: Cinderella, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, Lady and the Tramp, and The Fox and the Hound are some I remember specifically from childhood. From books, I recall my fascination with Aesop’s fables, “Rumpelstiltskin”(oh to be able to weave gold!),  “Hansel and Gretel” (if I was ever lost in the forest with my little sister, I would know what to do), “ The Golden Touch of King Midas” (the golden touch would become somewhat cumbersome after awhile), “Jack and the Beanstalk”(where can I buy magic beans?), “The Emperor’s New Clothes” (how did he not know he was naked?), “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” (Goldilocks is a brat, but I admired her confidence),  “Rapunzel” (oh to have hair like Rapunzel!), “The Princess and the Pea” (I felt I could relate when walking with a rock in my shoe),  “Thumbelina” (I wanted to put her in my pocket),  “The Ugly Duckling” (as a redhead in a family of brunettes, I felt the odd one out),  “The Three Little Pigs” (the best house to have is one of bricks…duh),  “The Hare and the Tortoise” (slow and steady),  “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” (he got what he deserved), and “Little Red Riding Hood” (I was caught up with how a little girl was allowed to prance through the woods). Later, I was exposed to Brothers Grimm and was engrossed with their dark and grotesque approach like Cinderella’s step-sisters cutting their feet to fit in their shoes. I’m surprised Fletcher did not mention these as they certainly would undo Perrault’s thorn. Also, as an aside, I found a similarity between the “catastrophizing” like-begets-like logic and self-judgment with the effects of social media. 

When Fletcher writes about the modern twists and Superman, I annotated in the column, “Annie!” prior to reaching the mention of it on page 123. Annie was probably my favorite. I loved all things Annie, likely because she looked like me, and of course, how amazing would it be to find a beautiful dog and be plucked by a Daddy Warbucks and thrust into wealth beyond wealth with everything a heart desires? My aunt even bought me an Annie wig for my sixth birthday.  Ok, as a kid, this seemed really cool. As an adult, I see it’s a bit problematic. I do see how the lucky twist included as a plot device can offer hope and work to fend off pessimism. 

Overall, Fletcher proposes 25 of these literary “inventions.” My favorite was the one regarding the Choose Your Own Accomplice through the work of Maya Angelou. I have a presentation on that one, so it doesn’t work for this purpose. Also, none of this post was written using AI.  

Thanks for reading!

 

Strategies to Open the Door

How do you talk to students about current events? Or do you avoid these discussions? Is there a place for these discussions in our work on campus? If so, what strategies can we use to open the door to these sometimes difficult conversations with students?

In the classes I teach, it would be a Herculean feat to attempt to escape discussing current events. One of the tenets of my teaching philosophy is engaging students in content which affects and impacts the issues in their lives, so in ENG101 and ENG102, they will typically write about issues of importance to them and their communities, with parameters. In ENH295, the core content of the class pulses to and through the heart of banning, challenging, or censoring literature. In that class, discussing the current landscape and groundbreaking onslaught of book challenges is simply unavoidable.

To build classroom community and create a space where inquiry is encouraged and all perspectives are respected, I use a norm setting activity on meeting day one or two. These student led norms guide the way students interact with each other and me during our class time together. Typically, through consensus, students will decide to use a norm like “Be respectful to peers and instructor.” Then, if a conversation about a controversial issue transpires, we know the steadfast norm works to balance the group and maintain collegiality.

Another strategy I have found success with is using a Four Corners activity with signs of Agree, Strongly Agree, Disagree, and Strongly Disagree posted in each corner of the classroom. I will read a statement pertaining to the content, and students will move to the corner which best represents their position on the statement. Then, as a collective, we look at the trends. Did the whole class move to one side? Is it split equally? Are there more people who feel strongly agree or strongly disagree about the topic? Usually, I ask students from both perspectives to explain their stance. Then, to stir it up more, I ask if anyone has changed their mind after hearing the other side’s perspective.

These strategies are useful when we discuss current events to help students see multiple perspectives and to realize that even if we disagree, we can still respect each other. I do have to say, though, if there is a current event which strikes us all with its enormity, then I may just say, “Did you see this?” or “I know we are all feeling…” to give them space/time to think and discuss before we move onto content. For example, when the pandemic shifted us into a parallel universe, I found it necessary to allow space for students to express grief, complexity, sudden transition, and subsequent trauma. I think the more authentic we are with recognizing how these external events may affect us helps support our students in validating their own feelings and navigating complex issues.

 

The Science of Belonging

In my research regarding neurodivergent students, current studies indicate student success is tied to supportive, understanding instructors. Negative faculty attitudes and lack of awareness are the major barriers to success for students with disabilities (Dowrick et al., 2005 as cited in Sniatecki et al., 2015, p. 260). To succeed, students with ASD, for example, will require support from understanding faculty members who are responsive to the unique academic and social needs of students with ASD (Austin & Peña, 2017, p. 18). Another factor in pursuit of equity and inclusion amongst student populations is the sense of belonging.

In his book Belonging: The Science of Creating Connections and Bridging Divides, Cohen (2022) discusses his research about how to establish connection in all areas of life. Recently, I attended a webinar, sponsored by Norton Publishing, where Cohen discussed his book and strategies to bridge barriers. One effective strategy he discussed was the concept of wise feedback, based upon his and others’ research. According to Yeager et al. (2014), “Wise feedback increased students’ likelihood of submitting a revision of an essay (Study 1) and improved the quality of their final drafts (Study 2). Effects were generally stronger among African American students than among White students, and particularly strong among African Americans who felt more mistrusting of school.” In the study, in addition to commenting on the students’ essays with suggestions for improvement and typical words of encouragement, wise feedback consisted of the statement: “I’m giving you these comments because I have very high expectations and I know that you can reach them” (Yeager et al., 2014). The result? The simple intervention “closed the racial achievement gap in this sample by nearly 40%” (Yeager et al., 2014). In addition to wise feedback to foster belonging, Cohen also indicated students need to feel a sense of three things in our classrooms: “You are not alone. You have potential. We are going to do this together.”

Now, I’ve started to include wise feedback in all of my comments on student essays. Additionally, I have included the three statements about belonging at the top of each of my Canvas course home pages in hope of fostering belonging and supporting success for all students.


References

Austin, K. S., & Peña, E. V. (2017). Exceptional faculty members who responsively teach students with autism spectrum disorders [Abstract from ERIC]. Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 30(1), 17-32.
Cohen, G. L. (2022). Belonging: The Science of Creating Connection and Bridging Divides. New York, NY: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
Sniatecki, J. L., Perry, H. B., & Snell, L. H. (2015). Faculty attitudes and knowledge regarding college students with disabilities. Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 28(3), 259-275.
Yaeger, D. S. et al., (2014). Breaking the cycle of mistrust: Wise interventions to provide critical feedback across the racial divide. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General. 143, 804–824.

 

“The Greatest Love of All”

“The Greatest Love of All” by Whitney Houston, The Voice, represents my career in education. As a kid, my favorite musical artists were tied to the music my parents listened to: Michael Jackson, Paul Simon, Tina Turner, Willie Nelson, Jim Croce, Elton John, Dolly Parton, Julio Iglesias, Carly Simon, Bob Seger, Whitney Houston, and anything from Andrew Lloyd Weber, among others. My mom, a teacher, used to play “The Greatest Love of All” all the time, mostly while cleaning house and belting along. She used to say, “See, Roxanna, always love yourself, depend on yourself, and never walk in anyone’s shadows.” It goes without saying that my mom is my hero. As a child, I wanted to be just like her (as an adult, I can only hope to be just like her).

In our house, like many, school and education were paramount. In fact, I had a kid table set up in the kitchen with four chairs where I used to sit my dolls, Hermosa (my beloved first Cabbage Patch Kid purchased at Smitty’s on Baseline and McClintock) and Lupé (a life size child mannequin my great grandmother from Mexico gifted me), in the front row while I would “teach” them and play school. I always imagined being a teacher like my mom and following in her footsteps, especially when Whitney croons:

I believe the children are our future
Teach them well and let them lead the way
Show them all the beauty they possess inside
Give them a sense of pride to make it easier
Let the children’s laughter remind us how we used to be.

For my sixth grade most famous person project, I even wrote Whitney a letter to let her know of these important matters and my plans to teach the children well. My memory does not serve me, but I’m fairly certain she sent me a signed glossy 8X10?

Today, I believe this song is subconsciously woven into the forefront of why I pursued a career in education. That, and I failed out of pre-med my freshman year… but, that story is definitely for another time.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYzlVDlE72w&w=560&h=315]

 

The Risk and the Reward

Does great risk equal great reward? I guess it depends on the risk. Though, despite my rebel tendencies, likely due to my fascination with Star Wars and wanting to fly an X-Wing and fight for the Rebel Alliance, I’m really not that risky of a person in life. Overall,  I like to stay in balance; taking risks feels unstable, dangerous. Professionally, and yes, I’m hip-with-professional-jargon, taking risks equals growth. I mean, look at all the books written about this very concept. Throughout my years (almost a decade!) at GCC, my favorite risks would be the following: applying and surviving the interview process to be hired full-time; leading a team to create and implement a campus-wide mentoring program for developmental students; presenting at conferences, especially about how to support students with executive function differences; teaching in a learning community of ENG102/CRE102 with Sherry Wangen; putting my students into learning teams at the beginning of the semester to achieve the course competencies by solving a community issue and creating real-life deliverables where students tangibly connected the classroom and their community; serving as an Assistant Chair; leaning into the hybrid and, then, hyflex modalities; trying all the shiny, new tools with students: PearDeck, Weebly, Prezi, Voki, Animoto, SoundCloud, FlipGrid, Kahoot, etc. etc. etc.; and most of all, being vulnerable with students in teaching by providing models from my own life experience, constantly learning, being open to feedback from students throughout the semester (What’s working? What’s not? Stop-Start-Continue), and not being afraid to make mistakes.  As I look back, I think I answered my own question; indubitably, the risks I’ve taken while serving as faculty at GCC have been some of the greatest rewards of my professional life.

 

Where the Unfamiliar and Familiar Join

On Thursday, my students and I were chatting before class as I prompted them to respond to the Poll Everywhere word cloud: “Finish the sentence: I spent my Spring Break ______________.” Soon, words began to populate the screen: “Sleeping, family, Disneyland, beach, Six Flags, Universal…” While the dominant responses were sleeping and relaxing, most responses were a flashback to pre-pandemic life. Where the familiarity and unfamiliarity join quickly left its impression upon me; aloud, I jovially remarked, “Wow! Look at that. It’s looking like things are returning to life as we knew it. It certainly feels like we’ve all been dealing with a proverbial psychological hangover from the past two years. I think this year, we just held our breath, hoping to make it through break without anything crazy happening. So far so good! Knock on wood!” as I knocked loudly on the top of the desk. A student, smiling while raising her eyebrows, pointed and looked at me as if to say, “You better find some wood to knock!” This, as they return from break with a “masks encouraged” policy, and me, relieved to see their smiles, yet feeling like I don’t recognize them without their masks on. It’s such an odd in-between space.

Returning to the classroom in-person this Spring felt like an alternate reality. Do I pass out handouts? Can students work in groups? Can they walk around? Do I have to clean everything in the classroom every time? What if I forget something? What if I mess up? For my students, I noticed how eager they were to TALK to each other. When they discuss in class, the energy is palatable; I honor the space for them to have it. This anecdote may sum it up best: last week, I checked out about ten books from the library to cart to Banned Books and Censorship, offering resources for students to use on their projects. The books were heavy and uncomfortable to lug across campus. I even required special permission to check out so many, but I did it because I thought that’s what my students needed. When class started, I was proud (and I’m a bibliophile) to show them how many resources are available to them in our amazing library, lifting up each book, explaining its contents, and pointing to where the information may be applicable to them. Afterwards, students met to plan projects. The books sat there; students didn’t go to the books, look at them, or give them any attention. Confused, I thought, well, maybe I should take the books TO the students. When I enthusiastically said to one group, “Oh, The Handmaid’s Tale is in here, look, a Summary and Background of Censorship!” 

My student responded, casually, “Cool. Can’t I get that electronically, though?”

It took me a second to adjust, and I said, “Yes! I think so. Let’s look.”

We did. She could, a juxtaposition of “let us talk to each other, and let us use our tech.” 

We all know the effects of the pandemic have forced us to evolve as teachers, as humans. In fact, TYCA (Two Year College Association of National Council of Teachers of English) created a taskforce to study the impact of 2020 on instructors. In crafting the survey, our questions began to sort itself into categories to include: instructional modalities, cognitive/emotional/self-care, impact to workload, institutional support, and teaching. We are just beginning the literature review and hope to start collecting responses in Fall 2022. Overall, collectively, I don’t think we’ve processed the impact 2020 had on us. We may still be running on the adrenaline it took to get us through to the other side. 

My work has changed because my life has changed. I have changed. The logistics, of course, are the easiest to talk about. In a forced instant, we learned how to live in a world of Zoom and Google Meet and WebEx and Live Online and HyFlex and work from home and vaccines and masks and sanitizing and social distancing and how many times we could tolerate hearing the word “unprecedented.” My dining room table turned into my office space and my classroom. Now, instead of a centerpiece and placemats, it’s filled with two monitors, a ring light, my laptop, and a wireless keyboard and mouse. Underneath all the vocabulary, though, I think we also learned to be even more patient (like the judge when the lawyer was a cat: “Sir, I’m not a cat.”), flexible (“Anyone need an extension?”), compassionate (“I am so sorry to hear that you are sick. Please take care of yourself.”), and expert with referrals (“Find free Wi-Fi here. Drive-Thru Food Distribution here. Counseling here.”) I learned we can do hard things (like having to work while home-schooling a kindergartener, a sixth grader with ASD, and a sophomore…Ay!). Though I will never stop learning, and I could likely talk about it a long while, these are some of the lessons I’ve learned from living and teaching in a pandemic.

 

At the Heart

The belief at the heart of what I do in my teaching practice is to always do what is in the best interest of students. This belief goes back to my first days of teaching at Tolleson Union High School in the chalk powder, maps-from-1952, musty-carpet smelling Old Main.

One of my colleagues, Patricia “Pat” Gordon, was a spindly, former nun, tough as nails, the New Jersey kind, 40 year plus veteran of teaching. She was not easy on me, and even though my last name was Solley, she would deliberately say in her commanding raspy-from-being-a-smoker voice, “See Sully? This is what you have to do,” when referencing anything she thought I did not know how to do. Apparently, I knew nothing.

Pat would take on anyone from administrators to students, pointing her finger, and they would end up thanking her for it. Her toughness paired in equal measure to the compassion she showed her students. They, simply, loved her. One of Pat’s To-Dos (given over teacher’s lunchtime lounge conversation in-between the ones about the good ‘ol glory days) for me was to read The First Days of School: How to be an Effective Teacher by Harry and Rosemary Wong: “Sully, you gotta read this before every school year. It’ll get you ready.”

Out of curiosity and open to anything that would calm my I-just-graduated-from-college-first-year- splotchy-neck-red-in the-face-“I’m teaching seniors in high school” teacher nerves, I found the book at Barnes & Noble. Initially, I thought, what kind of old school antiquated crap was this? It was so rigid and matter of fact, definitely distorting my textbook-ripping John Keating perception of what teaching could be (“Oh Captain! My Captain!”). The Wongs’ book contained such crazy notions like: set clear expectations, be organized, be consistent, what you do on the first day will set the tone for the whole year, and, oh yes, classroom management is paramount. Looking back 23 years later, I have to laugh because I don’t know what I was thinking or why I scoffed at it.

It turns out, Pat was right. Of course she was. She knew that by practicing these matter-of-fact things in her classroom, she indubitably kept her students’ best interest in the center of her classroom. Eventually, Pat became my mentor, and, in her retirement, asked me to take over as sponsor of Interact Club, a service organization paired with the local Rotary Club, “Sully, you can do it. It’s easy. You sell the popcorn. You raise the money. You go to meetings. You volunteer. The students love it. Win-win.”

In 2003, Pat passed unexpectedly after a long day of teaching; at her memorial service, I had the opportunity to publicly acknowledge her enduring impact on my career. To me, she is one of the first people, professionally, who guided me, albeit many moons ago, into the belief that the most effective teaching is always doing what is best for students.