I’m quite sure this is one of the longest chunks of time I’ve gone between blog posts in over 11 years since starting this blog.

It’s been over a year since I last logged in and recorded thoughts for the world to see. Not that many actually do pay much attention to this little old blog space any more. Inspired by my children (now both very grown-up, young men, really) and my students (currently grade 5-7 students and, for the most part, very tech-savvy), I’ve often thought about shifting my online professional space into something newer. Perhaps a YouTube channel? Or a podcast? Both are surprisingly appealing to me. The thing is, shifting into a whole new online professional space would take time and, as I’ve written about before, I’ve made changes about how I spend my time online. Committing to learning and establishing a whole new space just doesn’t have a place in my home life right now. To be honest, I rarely have time to maintain this space. Growing a new branch on my digital identity tree during my time at home doesn’t seem to make sense at the moment.

That said, there are, actually, a bunch of new branches on my digital identity tree but they’ve grown while I’ve been at work. The amount of learning I continue to experience since moving and starting a new job in a blended learning program is considerable. I learn every day from either my amazing students, their equally-amazing families, my fantastic colleagues or my inspiring admin. My dad, once again, was right in saying that making a change at the ~20 year mark of a teaching career would be a good thing. It’s quite bizarre to think about. It’s like I’ve been a brand new teacher for the past few years (because I have) but with ~20 years of prior experience. Weird.

The reason for my online rambling tonight is actually connected to how crazy the world is at the moment. A global pandemic. And, important to note, the first global pandemic with the internet and social media which are, of course, hugely influential to how people are behaving towards the crisis in both positive and negative ways.

Because of the chaos, and because I’m a mom self-isolating at home with my family (a.k.a. positive role model), I’ve been working hard not to devote too much energy to things beyond my control in the time that COVID-19 has taken over the world. I certainly have enough to occupy me day to day. But as the calendar moved past the spring break halfway point last night, my thinking moved into wondering about work next week. Surprisingly, this is no different from any other spring break; I always take the first half of the break to relax and enjoy some downtime, whereas the second half of spring break has always included a bit of school work, whether it be planning, reading or marking.

As my head started to think about next week, I at first felt very ungrounded and anxious. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around any thoughts without descending into a not-so-positive ‘what if’ spiral. But then I had a few good conversations with family members and that changed my perspective. With their support, my brain was able to change gears and now I’ve shifted to keeping my mind open. I can imagine all sorts of ways to teach and learn in the current global situation and as much as I’d like to start putting some of that imagining into action, I also know that there are many, many people with different roles working tirelessly through the decision making process to decide what next week will actually look like based on all sorts of information that a) changes every day, and that b) I don’t have. And I’m not privy to any of that, which is okay. I don’t need to know any of that because that’s not part of my job.

My job next week will be to take whatever direction is given and then do what every teacher sets out to do each day we go to work: help kids. That’s the essence of being a teacher. Help kids to learn _________ (insert curriculum-specific language here), help kids to navigate friendship or peer conflict, help kids to think, help kids to question, help kids wash a paintbrush properly, help kids to find the right book to read, help kids to open a stuck thermos at lunch…the list goes on and on. In almost any situation, however dire, teachers are there to help kids. And in this situation, I’m pretty sure the kids are going to need all the help they can get.

I hope I can help them in the way they need to be helped in such a strange set of circumstances. I’m glad that my digital identity tree has lots of branches for me to climb on and access in the coming weeks. I think I’m going to need them. We all are.

Thanks for reading. I hope you are safe, healthy and well. Take good care.

If you’ve followed along on my very sporadic blogging adventures of late, you’ll know that the last two years have been filled with big changes in my life including a huge family move and a wonderful new job. In the midst of the move, I reached out to one of my professors, Vicki, because I had a small gift for her and wanted to ensure the gift was delivered before it was lost in the chaos of moving. It just so happened that we ended up having a long conversation over dinner as a result, and a new phase of learning for me began.

To add a bit of context, when I did my graduate coursework, one strand of research was Métis and Cree epistemologies. This continues to be a topic of deep interest and meaningful connection for me. I have come to wonder if my hunger to know about traditional indigenous ways is proportional to the knowledge lost or hidden away by my great-grandmother’s time at residential school. The phrase ‘blood will out’ comes to mind. While I still have a passion to learn about my other two thesis topics (art and how to use arts-based methods with my students and my reluctant fascination with technology and digital citizenship), my continued exploration into indigenous learning sits at a different level. It’s more personal. More meaningful. More conflicted. Certainly much more complicated.

I left dinner with a long list of things to do (mostly people to meet and books to read). I think of that list as a solid chunk of informal post-graduate coursework and trust that Vicki is leading me in a direction I need to go. One thing she recommended was that I read all books written by Richard Wagamese, in order, beginning with his first book, Keeper’n’ Me.

Ever the eager student, I quickly began reading through the books. Not surprisingly to me, knowing Vicki (one of the most quietly and humbly brilliant people you could ever meet), I loved Keeper’n’ Me and wondered how it was that I’d never read any of his books before. I’d read parts of Indian Horse with my older son when he was in Grade Ten English, and I had been lucky enough to see Richard Wagamese at a conference as he was the keynote, years ago. I knew of him, but reading Keeper’n’ Me felt like coming home. It had a sense of discovery and comfort at the same time and I absolutely loved the story. I quickly moved on to the next book I could find, A Quality of Light (very different from Keeper’n’ Me), and then For Joshua.

I’ve been careful to read the books slowly and thoughtfully. While they’ve all stayed with me, a few (Keeper’n’ Me, Dream Wheels and Ragged Company, so far) worked into my heart and soul. I feel that I carry those closely. They’ve become a part of me, clicking like puzzle pieces to the edges of the indigenous blood that finds itself mixed into the outer edges of the Irish, Scottish, Métis and Cree puzzle that is my identity.

I think one reason those particular books stay close is that they are stories. Richard Wagamese wrote stories, short stories and essays but it’s the stories that I prefer and that stay. Perhaps that’s because storytelling is a traditional way to pass along knowledge so that method resonates the most. It’s an ancient tradition and remains powerful largely because, I think, our brains evolved to learn in this way. Storytelling certainly resonates with my students, but that’s another topic for another day, and now that I think about it, the times that I remember Nanny, my great-grandmother, actually talking about her past, she told stories. She rarely spoke about her childhood or early adult life but when she did, it was framed as a story.

Today I had the luxury of a professional development ‘flex’ day and chose to spend it with One Story, One Song, the Wagamese book I’m currently reading. I’ve been ‘currently reading’ it for months now. I was stuck in the middle of it, an unfamiliar feeling for me as I prefer to avoid not finishing books. Unfinished books are unfinished business and things like that nag at my conscience. So, because of the flex day and the need to complete some self-directed pro-d today, I forced myself to re-engage with the book.

I realized awhile ago that the reason I was stuck was because of one of the essays in the book called The Path to Healing. In this essay, Wagamese speaks to being a victim of Canada’s residential school system. I’ve been stuck by this topic before during my MEd year with Vicki at SFU. Sometimes the distance of generations and time isn’t enough to cushion the hurt felt when thinking about residential schools.  As soon as I start reading or thinking about residential schools, my mind turns to my great-grandmother. I imagine how it must have been for Nanny, then nine, to leave her family and her home and never return. I imagine her mother, her father, her Cree grandmother, my family, grieving her absence. I think about the fact that if Nanny hadn’t kept her Cree blood a secret, that my grandmother and her sister, and then, if they’d still been born, my mother and her sister, would have been forced to attend residential school as well. It sounds strange, but it hurts, physically and emotionally when my mind goes to that place. So I avoid it, out of self-preservation, and, maybe, out of a need for extra time to process.

After dreading returning to the book, I was happy to find that I really enjoyed reading his words and experiencing his powerful but smooth writer’s voice once again. I love his writing for many reasons and will finish the book tonight. It will be good to move onto his next book and move past the point where I was stuck. I realize now, after reading today, and thinking, and writing this, that it’s because there is a piece of me, or a few of those puzzle pieces I mentioned earlier, that also connect, indirectly of course, through Nanny, to being a victim of Canada’s residential school system.

If you’ve read through, thank you. And if you find yourself stuck in life, maybe it’s because there’s a lesson to be learned and some insight to gain that can help with self-discovery, a tiny ‘aha’ moment, or a powerful bit of learning.

For the last month or so I’ve found myself spending a lot of time reflecting on the first half of the school year. My reflections have led me well beyond the start of the 2017/2018 school year so I might as well start way back with a conversation I had with my mom as a new teacher.

My mom was a primary teacher for over twenty years. When I was new to the profession, she told me a story of how, when she was hired, she became ‘the’ grade two teacher at a small school in the interior of BC. She told me that, although she loved teaching, after working in the exact same grade for over seven years, she was more than ready for a change. She still loved teaching and she was magical when working with children but teaching the same grade in the same classroom in the same school for seven years became repetitive and boring. From that experience, she believed teachers should move grades or teaching assignments or schools or something at least every five years to stay fresh and avoid boredom.

I’ve often thought about that conversation. The best example I can recall about seeking change in my teaching career came when I was halfway through my sixth year teaching high school art and photography (amongst a couple of other courses). I loved it. It was a really great job. But after 6+ years of teaching in the same room and having the same teaching assignment, I felt like I was in a rut. Work was too repetitive, even with different kids and different admin and all sorts of other changes. My mom, I remembered thinking, was right. A change was needed every so often, even in a good teaching situation, to stay engaged.

Fast forward almost ten years. Last year I was loving my job but, due to my husband’s work, we made a huge move to a different part of the province. I was lucky, as mentioned in my previous post, to secure a teaching position at Navigate NIDES, a really interesting school with all sorts of distributed learning and blended learning programs and some very innovative educators.

Talk about a change.

When I was in the process of accepting the new teaching job, I had a long talk with my dad, who was also an educator (mostly in high school as admin) for over 30 years. He told me that a big change at this point in my career would be really good for me. He was very encouraging and excited about the opportunity at Navigate for several reasons, and specifically talked about several positive aspects of a big career change at this point in my life.

I can’t help reflecting on the fact that both my parents, over 20 years apart, offered very similar advice on the positive aspects of change. And I’ve been thinking about how the big change has impacted me for the last six months or so.

One thing I’ve noticed is that I’m in a constant state of processing. I empathize with the little primary kids I spend my time with each week. They are constantly processing and learning how to draw, sing, count, be kind, read, write, etc. Just when they think they’ve figured something out, something new comes along. There are so many steps and levels and parts to their learning. I work hard to protect the level of input they are experiencing so as not to overwhelm them. I’ve made so many comparisons to my learning in this new position and my young students’ steep learning curve. It’s been an unexpected comparison that fits surprisingly well.

The shifting and stretching of my pedagogy is noticeable. I’m in a new place with new colleagues; it’s like I’m a brand new teacher all over again. I’m doing my best to pay attention to what my defaults are and when I should rethink them. This uses much more mental energy than I expected but it’s a good exercise and neat to see what’s staying, what’s shifting and what’s being thrown out the window.

In order to have the best year possible, I’ve made self-care my number one priority. While change is good and exciting and fun (one favourite weekly lesson involves learning letter sounds through using alphabet puppets – oh my gosh, so much fun!!), change is also often exhausting, uncertain and sometimes downright scary. Eating well, ensuring I sleep enough each night and establishing a new exercise routine has been really helpful in staying healthy and maintaining energy levels.

I’m living a growth mindset. All those quotes that are tweeted out and shared on Facebook have a whole new meaning since last fall. I love it. Even though I never stop processing and find myself rethinking things to the point that I’m sure I must, to others, seem indecisive, I like the push beyond what was known and comfortable. It’s new and interesting. It’s a breath of fresh air. It’s like I’m living again for the first time in a long time.

I can’t help thinking of a conversation with a colleague about a year ago. At the time I told her that, for the first time in my teaching career, I actually kind of, sort of, most of the time felt like I almost new what I was doing. Teaching, I said, was finally easy. As soon as the words popped out of my mouth, I remember thinking I’d jinxed myself somehow. And I had I guess, in a good way, well before the big family move was even a possibility.

So, now that all those ideas are out, I guess the big ideas at this point are that change is good and parents are always right. Not surprising, but definitely a fitting end for a post written on the Family Day Long Weekend.

Sent from my iPhone

I recently began a whole new adventure in life and in teaching. After living in the interior of BC for over twenty years, my family made a huge move this summer. We now live on Vancouver Island and I love it here. I lived by the ocean for many years when I was young, so in many ways, I feel as if I’ve finally come home.

I am very excited to be working in a new job with School District #71 at Navigate NIDES. I’ve known about this school for a very long time as many of the people working there were early adopters of educational technology many, many years ago. I’m super excited to be working with younger children once again (I have a lovely, energetic and insightful class of kids in Kindergarten, Grade One and Grade Two!) and I’m enjoying the professional challenge of updating my practice in this new learning community with new students and the new BC curriculum.

While I expected to love working with the kids every day in this new job, I didn’t expect to love working within the blended learning model so much. One pleasant surprise (although, in retrospect, I don’t know why it’s taken me by surprise…) is how much I enjoy working within a blended learning model. I love working with the students face-to-face in my classroom for part of the week and I love being a teacher facilitating online learning, online portfolios and other technological aspects of teaching/learning for the other part of the week. Even though I’ve never done this exact type of teaching before, I’m really enjoying it for a number of reasons. A good topic for an actual blog post at some point, I think!

Finally, one piece of the new job that feels very familiar (and that I also love) is that I am once again a member of a collaborative team of educators. I can’t say enough about these amazing people. They have been so supportive, answering all my 100s (if not 1000s) of questions, accepting me, helping me and being there when I needed them. I’m humbled by their passion, their knowledge and their motivation to do really cool stuff to inspire kids.

Now that the big family move is finally almost done and life is feeling more settled, I’d like to blog, tweet and post more online as I have in past years. There’s lots to talk about and I know the reflective aspects will help me with this new role and new chapter in life.

Somehow, it’s May. I can’t believe it. I think the very long and very cold winter has something to do with the fact that the months have slipped by quickly. Today is the third sunny, warm day this year. The third. That’s unusual in recent years. There’s still snow on Fountain Ridge which means it’s not time to plant your garden yet (according to the elders, who know what they’re talking about) so instead of working in my garden like I usually do the first weekend in May, I decided to write instead.

With the nice, sunny weather came a shift in the classroom. PE outside. DPA outside. Anything we can sneak outside, we do. I finally heard the familiar “Ms Gregory can we go read/draw/play outside?” from students several times on Friday. Also, a retired teacher of mine was in Friday as a TTOC and, during my prep, took the students for a nature walk around the school grounds. We are lucky to have a ravine with a creek flowing behind our school property. It’s a great place to take the students for all sorts of outdoor learning. I was prepared for the “He took us on a walk” comments when they returned. I was not prepared for the “We ate dandelions and he showed us how to eat certain cacti” comments! Lucky kids…I’d love to have tried the cactus. Apparently it tasted like cucumber!

With the shift we also have the year end craziness setting in. One or two major events happening every week from now until the end of June. This week there is a fish dissection demonstration (the students can’t wait!), the St’at’imc Gathering and our school carnival. Next week there are student led learning conversations one evening after school. The week after there is a really cool learning event happening at the local spawning channels called Walking with the Smolts.

And then it will be June. Poof, May will be gone.

I love the end of the year. So many fun activities. The weather is nice. I know my students well and have more fun teaching them because I do know them better and feel that I can help them to learn more efficiently and effectively.

I hate the end of the year because there is always so much that I want to finish up and do with my students and there is never enough time to fit it all in! I’ve figured out, after 21 years of teaching, and having taught many students for more than one year in a row, that teaching a student for one and a half years is the perfect amount of time for me to do all that I want to do. Anyone up for changing the school calendar?!

Anyway, the sunshine and spring breeze (not mention the hammock chair on my deck) are calling to me. Thanks for reading and hoping you have a lovely spring day!