Must-Reads, Recent + Research-Based

Reflections on My Edutopia Binge (Part 1)


Anyone else been following Edutopia’s “How Learning Happens” video series? I just tuned in this week and have been binge-watching the series.

I’m hooked.

What’s the deal?

In Edutopia’s own words:

“More than a year in the making, the series explores teaching practices grounded in the science of learning and human development. The videos highlight the importance of a safe, nurturing school environment and positive relationships with peers and adults. Get an inside look at practices that build students’ academic confidence and foundational skills such as problem-solving and self-regulation.”

In my own words:

This series tackles the question of how holistic learning actually happens. Rather than remove all of the variables of a student’s experience (social dynamics, past trauma, and so on), these videos embrace them. They provide tangible strategies on how to leverage social-emotional learning across all subjects, grade levels, and classrooms.

Tell me more!

The series contains 5 major topics, which follow a robust introduction:

  • Cultivating a Belonging Mindset
  • Fostering Positive Relationships
  • Building Academic Confidence
  • Developing Foundational Skills
  • Establishing Positive Conditions for Learning

Within each of these topics is a series of videos that share background information, highlight successful strategies in action from real schools (read: real teachers and students). The videos are quickly digestable, relatively short, and provide small steps that can be taken in individual classrooms.

From the perspective of an educator, the strategies pack a punch. They are simple enough to use in your classroom without the pomp and circumstance required for a overhaul (a la flipping the classroom), yet powerful enough to make a remarkable difference in the classroom.

Talk Moves, a strategy fostering safe participation practice, speaks to this. In theory, small group discussions are a great idea, but unless each student is given the same set of expectations and opportunities, it’s no different than any other squeaky-wheel conundrum (one student does all the talking because they perceive no one else will; everyone else is afraid or indifferent to talk because they perceive the talker to have established the vocal territory in the class as theirs).

Talk Moves is a strategy that puts all students on the same playing field, whether they are gregarious or more reserved in sharing their opinion. It gives students shared vocabulary- and more importantly, shared strategy- on how to engage in dialogue. As educators, we can make the error of assuming all of our students know the rule of dialogue– that participation is the goal and however you insert yourself is the strategy. But, what about the students that come from an entirely different set of cultural norms and thus, conversational rules? Perhaps it’s impolite to offer your opinion before being asked. Perhaps it’s uncomfortable and uncouth to debate at all. Or perhaps a student identifies as an analyst– one who prefers to hear all opinions and facts before they decide.

Not convinced? See for yourself:

In short, this is one strategy that allows students to bring their own experiences, ideas, opinions, and backgrounds into a discussion. It serves as the map to help students dive deeper together, (mostly) eliminates competition and judgement, and creates pathways to community. (Side note: interested? Use the free template in your own classroom!)

What’s the point?

If the whole series was just Talk Moves, it wouldn’t be particularly compelling as a series, and the video series encompass a broad range of strategies and approaches, all primarily rooted in social-emotional learning and it’s unequivocal connection to the science of learning.

Check it:

My main takeaways are:

  • A child’s brain is exceptionally responsive to experiences and relationships
  • Relationships and experiences affect brain development
  • Adversity can lead to uneven development of foundational skills (think self-regulation), which will in turn affect more advanced skills required in contexts of learning; in contrast, belonging and safety can help flourish these skills
  • Intentional skill-building aids in developing both foundational and advanced academic skills, creating whole learners
  • Classrooms with manipulatives, tools, and collaborative tasks build foundational skills and encourage social-emotional learning

The video is introduced by Dr Pamela Cantor, the founder and Senior Science Advisor for Turnaround for Children. In her words:

“The 20th-century education system was never designed with the knowledge of the developing brain. So when we think about the fact that learning is a brain function and we have an education system that didn’t have access to this critical knowledge, the question becomes: Do we have the will to create an education system that’s informed by it?”

Well, that’s a hard-hitter, isn’t it? Cantor is also part of an expert cross-disciplinary team studying the science of learning and development, and has dove deep into the role nurturing plays in educational settings…and how this actually affects the very nature of a child.

Cantor is also the founder of Turnaround for Children, an organization that began following 9/11 attacks “to address the impact of trauma on New York City public school students,” per the website. Indeed, trauma-informed practices are a central tenet in the series.

Trauma-informed teaching strikes me as equal parts essential, relevant, heartbreaking, and uplifting. We see growing acts of abuse, violence, and cruelty around the world, but especially so in the USA with 288 school shootings and no efforts to stop them. It’s true also that trauma, social-emotional learning, and a holistic perspective of a child’s experience inside and outside of school are finally recognized as critical pieces to the learning puzzle and that these types of initiatives are truly tying it all together and creating effective and powerful strategies teachers can use in their classrooms everyday, regardless of the subject or grades they teach.

What’s Next?

I can’t possibly recap the entire science of learning initiative into one post, so a series of my Edutopia Binge is forthcoming.


  • Have you binged on this series?
  • What strikes you as most relevant in your classroom or setting?
  • What did the series nail, and what did it leave out?


[Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash]

Must-Reads, Professional Development

BOMish: May 2018 {“Educating Esmé”}

book-of-the-month (1)

And just like that, it’s May– perhaps the busiest and most anticipated month of any educator, as learning targets perhaps seem more improbable than nailing a bullseye blindfolded. Final papers and lab reports loom in the distance while the pile of grading takes on a magical quality of never actually diminishing- only growing exponentially, despite what your bloodshot eyes may say otherwise.

Fear not, Educators. June is nigh.

What a great time to find the time NOT to read, right? 

R I I I I G H T ? 

Wrong! Remember, you’re responsible for your own professional development. Read like your profession depends on it (it does).

Alas, it’s a great season for a lighthearted yet valuable read. My BOMish of May came to me during the May of my first year teaching by a former teaching mentor of mine, a history teacher named Matt. Matt flattered me by saying that I reminded him of Madame Esmé herself, the author/heroine/protagonist/bada$$ teacher of Educating Esmé– a compliment which I kindly laughed off as I was in the midst of confidently nearing the end of barely surviving my own first year of teaching.

In fact, Matt had extraordinary timing when he gave this to me that fateful May day. Reading Esmé’s (mis)adventures fueled me with a quad-shot of inspiration– that jolt I’d been missing since September. After finishing the book, I was running on all cylinders, confident I could make it to the end of the school year as hopeful and energized as I’d began it. (You may be wondering, kind Readers, if that confidence translated to success. I’d estimate I made it at least 50% back to my September naivete exuberance, but for a first-year teacher in May? That’s pretty darn exceptional ;))

Educating Esmé: Diary of a First-Year Teacher (Esmé Raji Codell)

Photo from
  • The Stats: 290 Pages, published September 2009
  • Who Should Read It: First-year teachers, veteran teachers, school administrators, and parents
  • My Rating (out of 5 ♥): ♥♥♥♥
  • My Thoughts: Hot out of teacher-training and ready to change the world, Esmé enters her first-year teaching 5th grade at a tough Chicago public school. It’s clear from the start the care and love Esmé has for her students and the profession, as she toes the line in class daily of giving in to her verve and joie de vivre through silly antics (think rollerskating in the hallways, renaming math class “puzzling” class, making a homemade time machine in class that involves a great deal of rolling around on the floor), contrasting the raw and heartbreaking challenges of teaching. Though the book is light, peppered with her characteristic sass, Esmé isn’t shy to reveal the underbelly of School World, such as her cringe-worthy and hands-on (literally!!) principal who sees her investment to innovation in her classroom as an inconvenience; or the abuse inflicted by a parent to her child at a parent-teacher conference; as well as the realities of an underfunded school with a district screaming for performance to weary, apathetic educators (Esmé’s fellow faculty). Esmé narrates the weird, the ugly, and the raw with heart, and I was rooting hard for this young teacher with her Miss Frizzle flair. I left this book inspired to awaken that creative, ambitious, and confident inner teacher (who I hadn’t seen since the fall) and excited to, against all odds, keep trying. At times, admittedly, I found myself jealous of Esmé because while she does face challenge, it’s never exactly related to her confidence nor competence in her career– something common in the first-year teaching trauma. I was left wondering if she left these parts out, or if she simply didn’t experience them. 

My biggest grievance with this book is that after making it through the school year victoriously, Esmé-the-hero informs us she won’t be returning to the classroom and has decided to pursue being a librarian instead. 

Say what?!

I FELT SO DECEIVED!!! If Esmé can make it, I can make it… but now Esmé’s decided not to make it; so maybe I can’t make it, or maybe I shouldn’t make it, either?! This aspect left me wondering if she left something out, something too juicy or personal for a book. The less-kind part of my mind wonders if perhaps she underwent a first-year teaching experiment, knowing she’d write a book, and thus was less attached to the career overall. Who can know? 

Regardless of the plot twist, this book is a refreshing, delicious read if you’re an educator, an administrator, or have any experience with the highs and lows of a school year. Thank you, Esmé, for taking us on your ride!

[Photo courtesy of]

Professional Development

From Failure to Success: My 3 Big Takeaways from my First-Year Teaching


As education students, we hear the unsolicited advice proclaimed loudly and frequently:

“Your first year of teaching will be a train wreck.”

“It’s hard, it’s impossible, and you’re going to drown.”

… and my favourite piece of unhelpful advice: “Good luck!”

Yet, like many defiant young teachers entering their first year, I rolled my eyes and ignored the cautions. When I received advice, I’d nod but think to myself: “It was hard for others, but I got this.”

I mean, classroom management isn’t that hard– it was a cakewalk during my student teaching. Being creative is easy for me, and all of my lessons will be unique and mind-blowing. In fact, it’s totally possible to plan, grade, teach, exercise, maintain a healthy relationship, and have a vibrant social life. I am going to prove all of those first-year teaching stereotypes wrong!

Visions of my students working harmoniously, busily solving new problems and producing novel lab reports, and whispering how fun of a teacher I was in the hallways buzzed in my head. I outlined my “Outstanding New Teacher of the Year” acceptance speech.

At last, Day 1 came, and much like a new diet, I felt inspired, empowered. The school I was at began with a 10-day backpacking trip, which I had heaps of experience doing, and I was confident. The 10 days passed easily. I built rapport with my 12 new students, established firm boundaries, yet showcased my fun side. “Next week in the classroom was going to be cake! Only 6 hours a day with students PLUS daily showers and ample toilet paper? Cakewalk,” I thought.

Then, the real Day 1 came, and it didn’t e x a c t l y live up to my fantasy where students were dying to enter my classroom and exploded to their desks with attentive bliss, eager to see the new teacher and start their learning journey as a community of motivated, excited young souls. In fact, in those first 90 minutes, there were a lot of students glancing at the clock… and one student asked if I was a student (at the time, I looked 16. Actually I still do.).

But… all good! My class wasn’t that engaged because my classroom had no windows! That was the missing ingredient! No problem- I’d take my students outside for class. I’d be such a creative teacher! All was definitely not lost. At least I’d established my authority on Day 1.

Day 2 came, and the outdoor lesson was okay… at least students seemed to be engaged! I think. Probably. Maybe.

Day 3 came, and having had to use most of Day 2’s content, I borrowed from Day 4. I’ll catch up over the weekend and wing it on Friday. No problem. I hope…

Day 4: The day of discipline! Today, I’ll show a Powerpoint that will show my expertise. I know I need to garner authority, and today will be my Authority-Of-Science Day, as compared to my Fun Teaching Day the day before. Not all the students were engaged, so I’ll go over the stuff they seem to be missing.

….and from Day 5 into winter holidays, it continued to be a slow drip in motivation on my students end. Nothing seemed to work, I struggled to establish authority, I was constantly emotional, began to Google “education jobs that aren’t teaching” at 2 A.M. after another sleepless night worrying about how my lesson might flop, and needless to say all of my fantasies of balance and harmony were thrown out the window.

I still get heart palpitations and garner severe second-hand embarrassment, complete with reflexive shudders and instinctive eye-rolls when I think about that first week, first month, and even entire first semester. I’m cringing now. AHHH! The horror!


To be direct, my first year of teaching was characterized most consistently and poignantly by my own failures.


Yet, to say my first year teaching was a complete failure is inaccurate. Call it cliche, but to fail means that you’ve tried, and fail I did; subsequently, try I did even more. So rarely do we fail without a valuable lesson there to pat us on the back whilst lying face-down in the mud of shame, and my first-year of teaching was no different.

Having had time (and therapy) to process and reflect on my first year, I see that it was merely 9 months of mostly failing every day while planting a couple of secret seeds of learning that wouldn’t actually sprout the following year. It was awful. It was hard. I lived to see the other side and can look back and nervously laugh on it.

Here’s a list of my three favorite fails that I managed to turn into my strengths that now define me as an educator: 



My students were never sure if I was going to be super hands-on or super didactic (ie: sage on the stage) or if I was going to flip the onus to them. I wrongly mistook didactic instruction as a surefire way to establish my authority and expertise as the teacher in the classroom and would bore my students with lectures. Then, it would be modelling geologic layers with food the next day, followed by a random guest speaker the next day discussing something for which the kids weren’t prepped. We’d use a textbook for 2 days and then I’d abandon it for 7 weeks, then we’d use it again. I’d make students engage in round-table discussions with little practice and scold them for their lack of thoughtful participation. I was so inconsistent that even when we did something truly inquiry-based or student-led, they were so disinterested and disengaged because together we’d seen so little success as a community and me as a trustworthy figure.


Structure is important. It establishes trust, anchors students to their learning community. Variety is also critical, and the takeaway is not “find the one thing that works and never deviate”… nor is it “try everything and hope something sticks sometimes” (looking at you, First-Year Sara). The magic is in in the middle. Not every strategy is going to work for every student, but if students are always left wondering what’s next, they’re far less likely to engage. I now oscillate between 5 habits I can use consistently over the semester. Why 5? It gives variety while remaining predictable in a healthy way. My go-to habits (typically introduced to my students in this order) include:  

    • 5 Es Lessons: a time where I’m in the driver’s seat and is exceptionally appropriate when introducing a new topic, concept, skill, or unit. I frequently use 5 Es instruction, as it breaks up direct instruction with direct application and experimentation for students. This may include slides, an anchor chart, multimedia element (song, podcast, video clip)– whatever it is, I cap it at 15 minutes.
    • Inquiry-based Project: a time for students to explore, tinker, question, and start seeing ideas (including possibilities and limits) in action. This may be an experiment or lab, a hands-on activity, a secondary research search, and so on. This is typically associated with a graded final product.
    • In-Class Discussions: a time for students to engage with one another as scholars. This includes asking questions, defending opinions, hearing other points of view, and practice using evidence to back up their ideas. The format may change slightly (small groups vs. whole class vs. pairs), but the strategy is expected.
    • Field Experience or Expert: a time for students to connect with someone who has direct, tangible experience with what we are studying, or will visit a place that provides a richer, holistic perspective outside of articles and reading. This might involve a trip out of the classroom or have someone come in to the classroom.
    • Individual Journaling and/or Reflections: a time for students to reflect meaningfully on their learning or experience, draw connections, tie together key learnings, and articulate their major takeaways. This often serves as a cumulative assessment of learning.

It’s important to be explicit about your strategies with students. Let them know early on what habits they can expect. Put them in the syllabus. Say them. Show them. Train to them. Practice them. Refine them. Resist changing them if things don’t seem to be “working” right away. Once your set habits have had an honest chance to run with the class, evaluate what isn’t working and what could improve.



I student-taught at a boarding school, which has a decidedly more casual community than a day school, and I was used to chatting with students about their weekends, making jokes, and generally serving as a cool-aunt figure outside of the classroom. Coupled with my unpredictable instructional strategies, my second first-year mistake was also rooted in inconsistency (do we see a theme?), and I was constantly oscillating between being strict and uncompromising in class and then overcompensating for crappy instruction by being too cheery, too inauthentically social, and generally over-eager to seem likeable.  In retrospect, I was likely looking for some type of validation that I was not completely failing. Not the right move.


Teaching is a one-way street. You mentor and validate your students– you do not, should not, can not receive this from your students in return, and if you try to, they will see through it and lose respect for you. Period. And good on them because what they need isn’t another friend- it’s a guide.

What I eventually learned a few months in is that validation can come from colleague observations and are fantastic opportunities for feedback and insight into your teaching successes and failures. When I felt utterly hopeless (hello, October), I started to ask my co-teacher for feedback. He watched my lessons, gave me feedback, and suggested I film myself teaching (not as terrifying as it sounds). I was surprised by the things he noted that were going well in my classroom, as I was so focused on the failures. I learned to foster the good and navigate for the pitfalls– clumsily and unrefined, of course, but it was a start. It took a semester, but by January, I was able to understand what it meant to practice consistency. I also changed my perception of student rapport, abandoning any hope of them “liking” me and finally understanding how that different from my new expectation- respecting me.



I’m not proud to admit it, but I was stupidly stubbornly independent, convinced I’d be the exception to all of the first-year teaching rules. Teaching is a trial-by-fire experience every single day, where your failures, insecurities, and shortcomings are on display for all to see. Until you really find your groove, it’s painfully, defeatingly hard. Once you get the groove, it’s satisfyingly hard. Doing it alone, however, is suffocating, as you play your failure reel over and over and get paralyzed by fear on how to make forward.


As mentioned in my second failure, working with another teacher in my school was invaluable. I was lucky enough to have a colegial coaching program at my first school, which involved triads of teachers posing a problem or need, asking questions, brainstorming solutions, practicing a solution, and evaluating. The process, though self-regulated, was formulaic and helped us be solution-oriented and resist falling into a complain session. I was doubtful of the process at first, as my triad had an art and English teacher, while I taught science. I wasn’t sure how their feedback would translate, as our subjects are so different, but the value of this mentorship cannot be understated. They saw patterns in my instruction I was blind to, patterns in my students’ engagement, and creative solutions. The diversity of ideas wouldn’t have been as rich or productive if I’d only sought ideas from fellow science faculty. Now, I consistently reach out to a diverse set of colleagues and former classmates for advice. I still film myself, I still ask for feedback, even if I know a lesson has flopped and even if I think it’s landed. Never stop learning about yourself and your blindspots– you never know who you might be reaching (or not).

Phew! That’s about all of memory lane I can tolerate at the moment.

Jokes aside, there’s few moments in life that you’re given where you can make a choice to define the person you’ll become, and being a first-year teacher provides this chance under no uncertain terms. You either have to work your tail off, try, fail, and repeat… or quit. There’s no coasting and there’s no hiding, and for that chance to prove myself alone made all of those cringe-worthy fails worth it.

If you’re a first-year teacher, we see you. We need you. We believe in you. Keep going. It’s an impossibly hard journey, but the view is spectacular on the other side.

[Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash]