My students were surprised the other day when I told them I was rushing out of school with the kids at dismissal on Thursdays in October because I needed to get home to take a ‘class.’ Why on earth, many of them asked, was I still talking classes? I’d taught for almost thirty years.
I love learning. Far more than when I was a kid, as an adult I’m fascinated by it. Yesterday, for example, we had an inservice day in my district. In the morning I listened to Chase Mielke talk to us about burnout. I attended another session from Chase about growth mindset. (He’s fabulous, by the way, if you’re looking for a presenter.) After Chase’s second session, I attended one from two teachers in our district talking about how we learn and how they’ve shifted the way they teach over the years. It was rejuvenating.
But that Thursday class I’m taking? It is one that reminds me of what I know to be true. I can’t attend NCTE this year like I normally do. Although my district would pay for the conference, I pay for my own travel and a plane ticket to Boston is not in my budget this year. So, when I saw Penny Kittle, Linda Rief, and Tom Romano were holding a series of Zooms on the teaching of memoir, I signed up immediately.
Last week we heard from all three of these mentors. They each guided us in writing of our own, modeling what this looks like in our classroom. I sat, pen to paper, scribbling down memories as fast as I could, my mind pinging once again at what I could transfer to the classroom.
Learning never stops, as I’ve told my students so many times. Long buried lessons emerge, as they did yesterday when my colleague, Jim, talked about metacognition and cognitive dissonance. I’m so grateful for all of the chances to shake out the cobwebs on a regular basis and become a student once again.
