I came home still energized and invigorated from conversations at school that day. This time, not about who were are so much as who we are not.
We are not page-turning practitioners. We are not curriculum cronies.
In fact, when curriculum is described as Google Maps and “they” tell you that you are free to turn left when it says to turn right and your team decides that
it was never a left-turn-right-turn decision,
but rather an
are-we-headed-to-the-right-place-in-the-first-place kinda thing,
it restores my soul.
We are not an IB school. We are not a PBL school. We are not a Blue Ribbon school.
Does that mean that we don’t know who we are?
On the contrary: to be able to say what we are not, to be able to say “no” to the shiny packaging, the glitz and the glitter, to be able to stand firm when the winds are whipping all around, says that we are clear:
We are PLC. We are dual-language. We are Title 1. We are workshop. We are relentless in our pursuit of what works for our kids.
We know them and so are in the best position to lead this work and determine our own journey. One focused on the process, not the product, found in the network, not the curriculum.
So then how do we wrap it all up in a word when we are asked to describe our identity?
What comes to mind comes from #raisingareader: The best of the factions, not the fractured or fixed. The strength of the many, not the merited or the mighty:
We are different. We are developing in different directions, leaning into our strengths, all the while strengthening our core, our common vision.
We entertain a variety of premises, points of view, perspectives. Our kids get all we’ve got. We welcome the unfamiliar and we advocate to annihilate assumptions.
We are divergent:
We come together in what sets us apart.
Today’s is the 17th post in a month-long series for the Slice of Life Story Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.