My workspace is my classroom, and there are a couple of things that I do to make a room of computers and monitors feel more welcoming. I’m sure you do several of these as well! My unknown colleagues who share HT2 152 also add to the collection. I appreciate you!

• Supply corner for pencils, pens, post-its, stapler (when it doesn’t walk away!), tape, 5 x 8 cards for name plates, and markers
• Snack basket including some protein options and quick carbs. Students bring things when they’re celebrating birthdays or a new job.
• Kleenex
• Sanitizing supplies thanks to maintenance! We share computers so we’re staying safe!
• Oils and lotions for aromatherapy. We practice breathing exercises to help us transition and focus.
• LOTS of white board markers and erasers since we’re all adding our good ideas to the walls.

Do you have anything else in your classroom that I should add to ours?

In the era of remote work, and the habits of increased multi-tasking,  unconventional yet practical alternatives to traditional office spaces have arisen. Alas, office meet car! !  Now,  as innovative and convenient as this may be, I find this newly formed behavior of mine to be quite conflicting.  

While I love the idea of flexibility and improved efficiency in my daily schedule, I am fairly certain my  ‘73 Dodge Dart was not intended as a mobile office. Mechanically sound, but technologically challenged, my hotrod is not ideal for the multi-screened Google Meets, while shifting between gears and navigating so many open tabs on my browser with a laptop as my passenger. Don’t worry, I only turn my video on when I am at a complete stop. All joking aside,  I never would have thought that calling into a meeting, responding to a Chat, or answering an email, all hands-free while driving to my next destination would have become part of my new version of an office. 

Appreciating the inspirational moments where my office and my expressions of self collide, I cannot help wondering how I can optimally integrate these worlds into a balance that my mobile workspace simply wasn’t designed to do.  The balancing act of working and living have intertwined as I cruise in my hotrod, hearing the rumble of the engine, the chimes from email notifications, with the recognition that my office, my space, and my work will forever be changed. 

My Audible “read” of the week is Susan Cain’s “Bittersweet.” One of the topics she discusses is about “effortless perfection.” She explains it as this unrealistic state we attempt to achieve in order to fool others into thinking we have everything under control and life is cool. Underneath, we are all “train wrecks!” Okay, I speak for myself…

Yup, I do that! I didn’t realize that it was a thing and I didn’t realize that I did it! But it made me laugh. I started to conjure up images of people that appear to be effortlessly perfect! In the swimming world, Michael Phelps comes to mind, effortlessly swimming the impossible butterfly stroke at superhuman speed. Then I think of the years of grueling training to which he has subjected his mind and body. His world fame came at huge price to his sanity. But he is an icon of this era.

I think of famous musicians who sing their hearts out on stage in front of audiences all over the world. Yet, I just have to tell my phone to play their song and it effortlessly plays across the airwaves, And I think to myself, how many times have they sung that song over and over and over? How many times do you think Mick Jagger has sung “Satisfaction?” How hard that must be to tour the world and be away from home for so long. How many hours spent rehearsing and perfecting?

I look around at my coworkers who show up with a smile each day, knowing that they are making a difference, while carrying a mountain of endless stress brought on by an attempt to keep home life and work life in balance. The resilience they display is mind blowing. And they come back the next day and do it again and again and again. They seem to do it with ease.

Why do we strive for effortless perfection? Go on, admit it! You do it too!

My workspace in higher education has changed many, many times over the past 15 years. Just during my time as faculty, I moved offices seven times in eight years, if memory serves. I’m a fan of change, so each move presented an opportunity to learn about a new location on campus, meet new colleagues, connect with students in a different space, or get a new plant (spoiler alert: they all died… my condolences, plant world).  

One constant throughout all of this change, manifesting my love of putting pen to actual paper, is the Yellow Legal Pad. A note-taker’s dream come true! It’s a beautiful canvas, page upon page, awaiting all manner of thoughts, ideas, and big plans. Outlines, books to read, research topics to explore, quotes that resonated. Not to mention doodles (not every meeting can be riveting), grocery lists, and an occasional note to myself not to forget that thing I keep forgetting. I can work just about anywhere as long as I have my trusted YLP and pen by my side.  

The Yellow Legal Pad accompanied me through law school (I know, so predictable), my Ph.D. program, eight years of full-time teaching, and now many years of administration…ing. It’s my essential learning, thinking, and writing tool. I mourn for all of the never-to-be loved-by-Gen-Z Yellow Legal Pads. Maybe I’ll start a Gretchen Wieners-esque “make YLP happen!” movement.

In my current office, I have many new-to-me things, all lovely and deeply appreciated. I have a handful of ink pens at the ready. But none are more precious to me than the stacks of Yellow Legal Pads, both new and those already filled with notes to be revisited and reflected upon. 

I invite you to join me in admiration of the YLP. We can meet for coffee or lunch and share our joy in opening up a new pack, tearing off a sheet to roll into a ball and throw at the nearest trash can, or simply stacking them neatly as a reminder of the work accomplished and exciting work ahead. Here’s to you, YLP! And with that, I’m off to do that thing I would have forgotten but for you.

by Mary Anne Duggan

If I were to write a letter to myself as a beginning teacher some 36 years ago, what would I say? How could I light a path forward for the old me? How could I keep the letter from being 50-plus pages long? I have a lot of questions about this week’s Write 6X6 prompt. But one thing I have learned over the years is to just jump in – knowing all the answers is not required (and most often not even possible!)

Dear Mary Anne,
     I see you over there. You are at a high school football game in September where you are watching your new fiancé’s brother play football. But you’re not watching the game; you’re grading a stack of papers. On a Friday night. And, oh yeah, you teach fourth grade . . .

Flash forward to you leaving your classroom at the end of another long day in January, towing a luggage cart carrying five or six textbooks and a blank lesson plan for Wednesday. It’s Tuesday. A veteran teacher passes by and quips, “Ah, working more and enjoying it less, right?”

Now it’s the last day of the school year in May, and you are furiously assembling books the students created to take home for the summer. You’re using the new-fangled book binding machine the school just purchased. It’s your lunch hour, and you are sweating like a — well — a teacher who waited until the last minute to provide a special experience for her students in a room with a swamp cooler.

Dear, dear Mary Anne, the school year is not a nine-month slog with respite only allowed in June. You can’t hurl yourself against the wall year after year trying to attain teaching perfection. No such thing exists, and your health will suffer in the process.

You have ambitious plans for providing a wonderful school experience for your students. You have all these grand ideas of what makes a “good” teacher. But a “good enough” teacher who lives a healthy and balanced life will surely be enough by anyone else’s standards. Let go, at least a bit, and you’ll see that the world keeps spinning and your students keep on learning. And you will have many years in this profession you love.

The older me,
Mary Anne

As I look back on this letter, I am left with further questions: Would I have listened to this advice way back when? Is it desirable to have all pitfalls flagged ahead of time? Or are some missteps just part of the process of growth as a teacher and, perhaps more importantly, as a person?

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