Reto para mis alumnos: Día 1

Reasons my new seventh graders want to learn Spanish...

¡Los adoro ya! ¡Bienvenidos a nuestra clase, chicos!

On letting go of perfectionism... But first, let me publish an overdue blog post!

So, I realize it's been some time since my last blog post (five weeks and two days, to be precise), despite my stated intention to post at least one per week since resuming this project.  Oh, I've got plenty of fabulous excuses for failing to fulfill this resolution:  First, there was wonderful time spent out of state with family last month, much needed after a busy school year.  And then, there were days spent working into the wee hours on essential curriculum revisions, much of which I will need to complete--or, at least, thoroughly outline--this summer, and which I'm still slowly wading my way through.  Of course, I also was delighted to finally coordinate time with friends I hadn't seen in months!  Then, there's been planning for the upcoming @PlaydateLA event on August 9th, as well as a trip to Las Vegas to participate in #EdCampVegas today (an incredible day, I might add!).  And, last but not least, I have just begun my move into a new home.  I think I've covered all of the big items here.

I could go on to list even more excuses for not writing a simple blog post--all of which are completely true, I might add!--but that's not the point of this post.  In fact, it's precisely my failure to fulfill my blogging resolution that has defined my next big challenge, both personal and professional:  the need to let go of "perfection" in order to truly grow.

Let's be honest.  Despite all of my many worthy ongoing projects, I really could have found a moment to post.  Yet, there was always a reason why it just wasn't a good time.  What could I possibly produce in a mere 20 minutes before I needed to leave for that appointment?  What could I create that would be of interest to anyone after a long day of curriculum writing, submission of administrative reports or organization of playdates (of the traditional variety, with actual elementary school-aged children in desperate need of an outlet for all of that energy they aren't currently expending on school-related activities)?  And then, of course, there is my lack of expertise.  How can I just sit down and write whatever's on my mind, when I've read so much from bloggers who actually know what they're doing, who invent wittier titles than I ever will, who include great images to complement innovative ideas, etc., etc.?  Suffice it to say that I was toting a nicely-sized suitcase of self-doubt.

This topic is quite timely, as it is also one of the major motivating factors behind my Spanish teams' curriculum development projects.  How can we expect our students to be willing to "fail up," to iterate without self-censorship, when we, as teachers, are so concerned with "getting it right" that we sometimes allow it to inhibit us from implementing change in the first place?  Aren't we supposed to be practicing what we preach?

And so, I thought it apropos to end this post--yes, I'm finally posting, warts and all--with some documentation of an area in which I have no problem "just doing it":  baking.

I LOVE to bake.  The precise measurement of ingredients, the chopping and slicing of fruit and nuts, the mixing and kneading of dough, the experimentation with each iteration of a favorite recipe, always ground me.  Don't get me wrong--I am not a master baker.  But I also know that I'm more than capable, I've acquired my personal bag of tricks after years of practice, and I never let the fear of failure stop me from doing it.

My last baking adventure--in July--was not my most successful.  It was, in fact, the second time I had attempted this peach pie recipe, after a remarkably successful first shot.  I was eagerly looking forward to another delicious substitute for "real" food as I put this into this oven:

    

However, like so many students (and humans, in general), my early success led to a bit of overconfidence the second time around.  I didn't pay as close attention to the timer as I had the first time, or remember the need to reduce the oven temperature after first browning the crust, which resulted in a finished product that looked like this:

       

I will admit that I had to fight the urge to cry when I removed this from the oven.

And yet, the truth is that this failure was really quite superficial.  No, this pie wasn't Martha Stewart Living magazine cover material.  But was it a wasted effort?  Well, I could state some platitudes about how I "learned" from this experience--and, yes, I learned--but, let's be honest, I wasn't feeling terribly grateful for the lesson at the moment.  However, if I could get past the initial "this is not perfect--it's not what I had in mind" reaction, and just look a bit deeper, what would I see?    

  

Okay, so I couldn't hold back from applying a little #tiltshiftgen blur here to convey to my dear readers the warm and fuzzy feeling I felt when I took a bite of this pie, still warm, with vanilla ice cream.  Oh, it was good.

But it wasn't a perfect pie.  I could still taste the burnt toastiness around the edges.  And it certainly wasn't the glossy magazine-cover vision I had in mind when I started.  But...it was still pretty darn good.  That pie didn't last three days in my refrigerator.

My point here, however, isn't that there's always a silver lining.  Failure will sometimes truly be unsalvageable.  (I can't count the number of times I've been forced to toss a tray of incinerated cookies because I still haven't learned my lesson after too many failed attempts to multitask while baking.)  But we don't start any new endeavor as an expert and, even when we are experts, we will still make mistakes.  Period.  Will I let that inhibit me from taking on new challenges this year, as I'm asking my students to also embrace the process, to expect that failure will be a necessary step on their road to learning?  I hope not.

¿Cómo podríamos...vencer el temor al fracaso? Mi nuevo reto personal.

Empiezo esta entrada con la foto arriba, del museo MODA (@modatl) en Atlanta, ciudad donde me encuentro ahora después de participar en la conferencia #fuse14 con @mvifi (el Instituto para Innovación de Mount Vernon Presbyterian School en Atlanta). Y es ahora que me doy cuenta, ya que se me ocurre que debería compartir esta experiencia tan transformativa, de que hace muchísimo que no escribo aquí. 

Sé que mis lectores me perdonarán, con lo mucho que hay que ver y leer en todos los medios sociales (y seguramente, ¡cosas más interesantes que mis reflexiones acerca de mi propio aprendizaje!). Pero habiendo escuchado a tantos colegas tan inspirados estos últimos dos días--profesores y administradores que se atreven a exponer y documentar su propio proceso de aprendizaje al mundo, en vez de esperar ese momento siempre inalcanzable de "saberlo todo", tenerlo todo entendido, antes de escribir nada--sé que ahora es el momento de retomar el hilo. Así qué, ¡ya volví! Y gracias a Uds. por acompañarme. 

Tengo que confesar que también tengo otra fuente de inspiración. Ahora mismo estoy leyendo The Happiness Project de Gretchen Rubin, que también hizo precisamente lo que propongo aquí: se retó a documentar su propia búsqueda de la felicidad. En realidad, como su propio libro revela, su proyecto no es tan sencillo, ni tan "egoísta", como el título sugiere. Como muchas investigaciones afirman, la felicidad no es posible sin una situación de crecimiento, de desarrollo personal, lo cual da un sentimiento de "felicidad" más duradera y sostenida que cualquier otra fuente de placer (como la adquisición del último juguete electrónico, un bolso codiciado, o la llegada de unas vacaciones muy anticipadas--¡aunque no me opondría si alguien me quisiera regalar un viaje al Caribe, oigan!--). En cambio, una vez satisfechas nuestras necesidades más básicas (comida, hogar, etc.), parece que estamos más felices cuando vemos que estamos aprendiendo. 

Bueno, se está haciendo tarde, y estoy anticipando un día muy lleno en #ISTE2014 mañana con #HackedEd14, así que no pretendo aburrirles con un resumen de mis lecturas recientes, ¡por buenísimas que hayan sido! Sólo diré que estas dos influencias no casuales, #fuse14 y Gretchen Rubin (http://www.gretchenrubin.com/), han renovado mi deseo de exponer mi propio crecimiento. Así que el reto que me doy el día de hoy es el de documentar aquí, por lo menos una vez a la semana (¿o más, si puedo?) (1) las experiencias de mis alumnos (en mi clase o inspiradas por sus estudios del español y de las culturas del mundo, y lo que eso significa para su conocimiento de su propia cultura), y (2) de compartir mis propias preguntas y crecimiento, como profesora y como ser humano. 

¡Gracias por acompañarme en el camino!

Recuerda a tus seres queridos con nosotros este Día de los Muertos.

Los altares del Día de los Muertos son una muy bella manera de recordar a nuestros seres queridos, agradecer el tiempo que tuvimos con ellos y reflexionar sobre la influencia que tuvieron en nuestra vida. Nuestro altar ya está casi listo...

Casi lista para el Día de los Muertos...

Acabo de comprar los cempoazochitl que necesitamos para los altares. ¡Me encanta ver el color anaranjado por todas partes!

Mi colección para el Día de los Muertos sigue creciendo...

El Día de los Muertos es uno de mis días festivos favoritos, ¡y llega pronto! ¿Quién quiere hacer galletas calavera conmigo el mes que viene en nuestro laboratorio de Seaver?

The Day of the Dead is one of my favorite holidays, and it's coming soon! Who wants to make calavera cookies with me next month in our Seaver lab?