Teacher Leaders

Like teachers all over, I’m taking time this summer to look more closely at tools and resources that might lead me to work smarter, or at least more efficiently, once back in the fast-pace of the school year.   I’ve started by going beyond my cursory understanding of a favorite productivity tool called Evernote.

This time last year, I resolved to give up the spiral notebook of notes I faithfully maintained throughout the school year in exchange for a digital solution.  I began using Evernote and loved how easy it was to get started.  I downloaded the app for on my iPad and iPhone and created my account on the web, all for free.

Within minutes, I began creating notes.  Whether I created the notes on my iPad or from a computer using my web browser, everything worked seamlessly.  I appreciated being able to create or review my notes on any computer, home or school, so that I could use a full keyboard.  At the same time, when I was mobile (walking through the hall, meeting with colleagues) it was equally simple to have full access to note taking and note viewing options on my iPad or iPhone.

Creating notebooks kept my notes organized.  I had notebooks to keep my coaching notes, various committee notes, future project ideas, and even personal notes like gift ideas or book lists.

Using Evernote is so easy!  I make one click to create a new note, choose the notebook to keep it in, create tags and then use the basic word processing functions to make my note.  It even saves automatically and syncs within a few minutes so that I can access new content on any of my devices.

With the basics covered, I’m ready to improve my Evernote skills by taking the following steps:

• I downloaded the Evernote application to my Mac (PC version also available).  Putting the application on my computer gave me added functionality that I could not get through the web browser.  For instance, with the application on my computer, I can copy webpages to include in my notes just by clicking on the iconic Evernote elephant head (web clipper) that is now on my browser’s menu bar.  A new note automatically opens up, allowing me to choose my notebook, tag it, and add my own text.

• The Evernote application on my computer as well as the app on my iPad/iPhone allows me to create audio notes.  I’m still trying to decide how I might use this to my advantage – I hate listening to voice mail and answering machine messages, so I’m not sure this is really my thing.  Still, the controls to create and save audio files are basic and easy.  A classroom teacher might find this to be more useful and notes (including the audio file) are easily shared via email.

• I plan to use Evernote to collaborate more effectively with my colleagues.  My friend Amy often sends me her notes from meetings or web clippings she’s made.  With Evernote, you can share a single note or an entire notebook.  You can share with individuals or make your note public so that anyone can access it.

• Finally, I am discovering how the Evernote trunk can expand my thinking about how I can use this tool.   In the trunk are descriptions of third party apps designed to work with Evernote to increase capabilities.  For instance, I’m looking into how JotNot can improve the pictures I take with my mobile device before adding them to notes.  There are several apps that I’m checking out that will allow me to create handwritten notes on my iPad and use Evernote’s text recognition.

I was a basic Evernote user for a year and I’m excited to take this app to new levels.  Teachers are involved on a daily basis with multiple, diverse work tasks (e.g. collecting classroom data, planning school meetings, documenting parent contacts, planning for instruction, and so on).  Committing to using Evernote can help us keep all the details together in one organized and easily accessible place.

On mornings that I do not have a coaching appointment, I walk the halls before school and casually meet up with teachers, checking in and lending a hand as my colleagues prepare for their busy days.  This morning I meet up with Lucy and fall into step as she makes her way to her classroom.  Lucy makes it easy to strike up a conversation; she’s always ready to jump in and think about work we do together even as she multitasks.

We walk to her classroom door and she jams her key into the lock.  Gripping the door handle tightly, she turns the key back and forth  We keep talking, Lucy undistracted despite her obvious trouble unlocking the door. Our conversation carries on while Lucy repositions her body against the door and continues twisting her key roughly in the lock.  I resist the urge to take the key from her and show her how easy unlocking the door is.  I can’t imagine why it’s taking over a minute for her to accomplish this simple task.  Finally, the door is unlocked.  Lucy props it open, explaining that the lock has been broken for two years despite attempts by our talented maintenance workers to fix it.

I realize I’m breathing an internal sigh of relief, thankful I resisted the urge to “help.”  I was seconds away from interfering, from taking over the unlocking of the door, believing somehow I could do the task better than Lucy.  How could I have offered real assistance without knowing all the details?

It’s human nature to give unsolicited, well-meaning advice to others.   But in truth, we are often providing suggestions for situations we know only a fraction about.

I once had a position in education in which my job was to provide unsolicited, well-meaning advice to teachers.  Based in an elementary school, I attended district “train the trainer” meetings every other week on a variety of topics such as literacy instruction, character education, and technology integration.   Back in my building, my job as the instructional resource teacher was to bring this new knowledge to the teachers.  Sometimes I held workshops after school but mostly I invited myself into classrooms to model what I learned from those district meetings.

I thought what I was doing was making a difference.  Teachers complied with directives to implement curriculum brought back from my meetings.  Some seemed genuinely invested in using the strategies I explained.  Several shared with me new projects they were initiating with their students as a result of my modeled lessons.  In many ways, there was evidence that practices were changing in classrooms.

This approach didn’t work for some of my colleagues.  They politely listened, then returned to their classrooms, unconvinced that changes needed to occur.  They were, in fact, competent teachers; clearly what I was offering was not what they needed.

Then there was Cindy.  At the request of my principal, I worked closely with her in her classroom.  I modeled lesson after lesson.  When I taught, students met the desired learning outcomes; this was often not the case when Cindy took back over.  Despite my best efforts, I was unable to provide the support that Cindy needed.  I entered her classroom every day modeling best practice instruction with high quality resources, but I lacked a way to get Cindy to make the changes that were desperately needed in her practice.

During those years as an instructional resource teacher, I truly felt I was helping my fellow teachers with this unsolicited, well-meaning, district-mandated advice on teaching and curriculum.  For some teachers, doors opened easily and we worked together in moving practice forward.  For others, however, it was like trying to force a key into a broken lock – a struggle to open the door to change.

Aside from the rare struggling teacher, I worked with great educators – dedicated, intelligent, skilled, creative, and talented.  Changes in our teaching were needed, though, as the requirements of students and their learning were quickly changing.  My district had put into place a resource to help teachers make adjustments, but as the instructional resource teacher I made too many assumptions about what teachers needed and considered too infrequently what the teacher might know that I didn’t.

I was, at that point in my career, too ready to take away the key and unlock the door myself.  Unfortunately, I was also unprepared to figure out why some of the doors never opened up.

Fast forward 15 years.  For the past five years, I have finally begun to understand what helps teachers to change their practice – and what doesn’t.  I’m one of 21 instructional coaches for a suburban school district outside of Chicago.  I’m still in the business of  professional learning for teachers, but my position is radically different from what I did 15 years ago.

I’ll be blogging my work as a coach – what it means to be a coach for educators, what it looks like and sounds like in practice, and how coaching supports teachers to make sustainable changes that improves learning for students.   I invite your comments, your questions, and your help as I use this blog to open new doors to grow in my practice.