"Done is Better Than Perfect"

Good afternoon! I am writing to you from my little tranquil historic home in Fort Worth, Texas, as the sun is peeking through the blinds and Ed Sheeran is gracefully crooning over my computer speakers. Today is MLK, Jr. holiday, and my fellow coworkers and I have the blessing to stay home and enjoy this beautiful day in January, where the temperature is 71 degrees and the sky is a periwinkle blue. I love days like today, where I get to just stay in my pajamas and slippers all day, sip hot herbal tea, see my husband on his lunch break, not put on a stitch of makeup, and just have some time to enjoy breathing, living, and thinking. Oh boy, do I do a lot of thinking on these kinds of days.

Some days of thinking are healthier and more productive than others. Some days of thinking leave me in a big ball of stress or self-doubt. Today is one of those thinking days that is the former- healthy, productive, and positive.

I have spent the past 5 hours or so once again rearranging my class's scope and sequence for the rest of the year, planning out a PBL on historical figures in the US, contacting a teacher in Pennsylvania about Skypeing with her class to share information about our beloved states, and creating several documents to go along with everything. This year has been such a whirlwind of trying to combine elements of Gifted/Talented education and strategies into the Texas state standards and expectations. I have clung to my precious Bloom's Taxonomy verb charts and higher-level question stems, built a PLN on Twitter to connect with other educators across the world for their expertise, filled journals with pages and pages of ideas- to only then be frustrated to have to choose between the ideas!- and spent many dear hours piecing together units that try to be as cross-curricular as possible. Evidence below:

I have learned so much this year, and have grown tremendously as an educator. I admit that some days are easier than others, when I revel in the fact that I get the chance to use my own innovativeness and creativity to create learning experiences for my students that I would have loved as a child. Some days I wonder if the work will ever end. Sometimes the thought that I have so far to go and so much to do and build can paralyze me into inaction. I then don't take any steps forward, and end up even more behind than before.

But the other day I saw this when perusing Lara Casey's blog, as well as a blog by my friend Casey Chappell.

DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT

And my life, once again, was changed.

So often as a woman, wife, friend, and teacher, I think that everything I do needs to be done perfectly. And sometimes, this disables me from doing anything at all. I find that if I can't do it to the fullest extent that it could be, I shy away from doing it completely- and time passes, days go by, and I still haven't done it. This manifests itself in so many ways in my life.

"I can't sit down and write music...I won't have enough time to make it a good song." "I can't start the laundry...I won't have enough time to fold it all so it won't have any wrinkles." "I can't cook that meal...it won't taste as good as that blogger made it taste." "I can't teach this unit...I don't have a perfect lesson plan stuffed with higher-level Bloom's questions and GT strategies and Thinking Hats and FFOE and art/writing/any connections and I won't do this topic justice..."

Sigh. Paralyzed from taking any action. But now...I recognize that getting things DONE is better than getting them done PERFECTLY. Because, frankly, I'm teaching myself this as I write it- nothing ever will be, or can be, perfect. Ever.

Getting things DONE doesn't mean that I do them half-way or in an incomplete, lazy fashion. I get them done to the best of my ability and celebrate the fact that I at least tried. I at least completed the task, put in my best effort, and am moving forward.

This, my friends, is my theme for 2015. Make it Happen. Done is better than perfect. It is so growth mindset- don't you think? We can't keep growing if we are stuck in the same place disabled by our own perfectionism or self-imposed standards. Growth happens when we make things happen. Despite them being imperfect.

My colleague and saving grace this year, Jeanette, taught me about Growth Mindset, a philosophy created by Carol Dweck, earlier this year on the second day of school when I was crying hopelessly in her office. Growth mindset has utterly and indefinitely changed my life forever. You see, the whole idea is that we as humans are continually growing and changing. Where we are now is not where we will always be. The lesson we screwed up on today isn't the measure of us as a teacher- it doesn't mean that we are terrible and should never teach again. The fight I had with my husband isn't the measure of our marriage- it doesn't mean that things are in disrepair and that we will never come out of it, or that I am a failure as a wife. 

No, these minor setbacks, these mistakes, these experiences, are all to serve the purpose of helping us to GROW. That lesson I messed up in the classroom? Because of it, I now know: What to not do in the future, what TO DO in the future instead, and how to change or tweak the lesson to be more successful. Now the next time I teach it, it will be better. That fight I had with Andrew? Because of it, I now know: what hurts Andrew and what to avoid doing in the future, ways I can love and respect Andrew better, things I need to repent for and ask for forgiveness for, and a deeper appreciation for him as my spouse.

Growth. Viewing mistakes and failures as opportunities for growth and change. This not only has changed me as a wife, teacher, and friend, but also as a daughter of the King. He doesn't look down on me with utter disgust and disappointment like I've always wrongly pictured him doing. He looks at me with compassion and love, teaching me and constantly using my sin and failure to conform me into the image of Jesus, gently leading me back as his lost sheep to his grand pasture.

And honestly, the biggest charge I'm taking from all of this is to "set my mind on things above" and not on things of the earth. Just like Romans 8 tells me, setting my mind on the flesh- death, despair, failure, sin- worry, stress, setbacks, disqualifications, accusations- whenever I set my mind on those things, you bet they sure don't bring me peace. It is when I set my mind on things above- love, hope, growth, sanctification, beauty, trust, rest, life, endurance, perseverance, character, all wrapped up in my beautiful Savior- that is when I do experience true peace that comes from Jesus.

So, as I continue on this journey of life, growth, and change, I am following Lara Casey's charge to reflect on a few things: What worked in 2014, what didn't work in 2014, and my yes and no list for 2015. I can't wait to post these things as I reflect and think on them all, and for 2015 to be the year where I am no longer paralyzed by inaction, but invigorated and inspired to do, be, create, learn, explore, LIVE.

My Night With a First Grader

Every year, my school has a silent auction to raise money for our school's PTA. The items to bid on do not only include trips to DisneyWorld or massages at a local spa, but the teachers themselves offer up a night out (usually in a group or with a team). Children then have the opportunity to happily bid on an evening spent bowling, getting pedicures, or catching the latest G rated film with the person who earlier that day taught them a math lesson.

Along with my vertical gifted/talented team, we created a "Game and Movie Night" that children were able to bid on. I remember laughing out of surprise when I received word on who won a night out with me, the ol' teach.

*Charlie is a student who I can honestly say has the ability to challenge my own thinking while at the same time make me melt into a puddle. He is a bold and bright leader, the kind of kid who can rule the school. All the other kids like him, want to be around him, follow his lead, think he is funny, and so forth. When I go around in a circle each day telling my students individually "good morning" and "I love you," he is the student that doesn't say "I love you" back because it's just not cool for such a cool guy to do so. But every now and then he will let it slip without thinking and quickly cover his mouth and turn bright red and pretend like nothing ever happened. Oh, and his MIND...he is one of the most well-spoken, intellectual children I have ever come across at the age of 7. He has the communication skills of an adult and can explain some of the most intricate topics or define higher-level vocabulary like it's nobody's business. He is just all around a cool kid, and a joy to teach.

So imagine my surprise when he bid on a night with me! I, not being very cool, got the chance to hang out with this super cool kid along with my coworkers and their winning bidders. I was really excited for the opportunity to get to let loose and have a laid-back night with a student- to see him more in his element without the pressures of school and work and projects and such. The night came, and there Charlie was in the library, waiting for me with a wooden chess board in hand.

We ate pizza, had lots of chocolate, watched a movie about math (which our highly gifted kids couldn't get over and kept talking about afterwards...no need for Frozen when you have Donald Duck in Mathematics Land, you know), and played hilarious games. And we laughed. A lot. I don't know if I've laughed that hard in a long time. At one point I was actually crying and wiping my eyes. Charlie totally let his walls down too and had a blast with the other children, teachers, and me. And when your student's parent comes to pick him up at 8:30 pm and he says he doesn't want to leave or go home...you silently cheer on the inside because you know that means they find time with you, or time at school, valuable.

I write about this night on here because I just don't want to forget how cool it was to spend time with a student outside of school hours and just be real in front of them. It made me reflect on how I want to be more "real" and transparent on a daily basis in the classroom, to let my students see the real Mrs. Rubinson- that I am a human being that can laugh, make mistakes and learn from them, have fun and relax and not constantly succumb to the pressures of test scores or perfectionism. I will never forget last school year when one of my students saw me laughing one day and mentioned, "Mrs. Rubinson, you're laughing! I never see you laugh." It struck such a powerful chord with me and I was determined to never let that be the case again. This year, laughing is a daily occurrence in our classroom- I make sure of it- because it's okay. Building relationships and classroom community isn't just about everything being perfectly timed and scheduled, or about rules and expectations constantly being followed to where humor and laughter can't be a part of your daily routine. I know my tendencies to always want to prove myself, to always want to appear to have it perfectly together, to always want to be in control of my surroundings- and those are tendencies that I don't want to pass on to my students. I want to pass on laughter. Love. Kindness. Honesty. Respect. Joy. Thankfulness for each day, even if a lesson goes awry or something falls apart.

My kids have taught me so much this year, as my students always do every year, and I thank them deeply for it. The perspective of 6-7 year olds can rival my own at times when their simplistic realities defeat my complicated tangle of distractions and mess of thoughts.

The Right Thing is Not Always the Easiest

Ever heard this before:
"What is the right thing to do isn't always the easiest thing to do." 
Or some version of that type of saying?

I feel that this is a lesson we teach our students as they travel through our classrooms- teaching them to have courage, to stand up for themselves and for one another, to do the right thing even when it is hard. I know that I say things like this at least weekly, if not daily- and sometimes choosing the right thing to do is super difficult and it takes a lot of self control, perseverance, and understanding on one's part. These are things that we as educators should be teaching and empowering children to be able to do on their own, so that when the time comes and they are alone with a choice to make, they can make the right one.

However, I don't think this life lesson is one that needs to be forgotten as an adult, especially in the teaching profession.

A buzzword and common practice among educators today is collaboration. Collaboration is a beautiful thing that, if done well, can make the phrase "two heads are better than one" come to life. I had the pleasure of collaborating with an incredible colleague for 4 years at my past school, and it was a joy and immense opportunity for growth and learning to have someone next door to me to reflect daily with, share ideas with, bounce lessons off of one another with, share struggles and triumphs with. I know that because of the time spent putting our heads together I became a better teacher for my students, and we took our learning experiences farther than I could have on my own.

This being said, collaboration is a thrilling process that can result in brilliance, and is something that I miss this year being on my own little island. (I teach a self-contained class of highly gifted and talented first graders, and it is the only class of its kind in my district). However, collaboration is only worthwhile when it is done well. Collaboration is only true, worthwhile collaboration when members involved leave with new knowledge/understanding, a task to try, or learning of their own that they only could gain by the practice of respectfully sharing and creating new ideas with others. Collaboration is when every member of the group respectfully contributes meaning and experience to the task or discussion at hand, where ideas and thoughts of members are heard and respected by other members, where any existing problems are solved and solutions are created. Together.

How unfortunate it is when collaboration takes a wrong turn and a teacher's voice is silenced. It seems that doing the right thing for our students is often the unpopular thing amongst many others around us; where actually being positive about our job and teaching children, or desiring to try new lessons, or attempting a unique idea is frowned at, laughed at, scoffed at, or brushed off. That sometimes it is just the easier thing to stay quiet and aloof in a meeting instead of asserting your thoughts or ideas. That sometimes it is just the easier thing to go with the flow of a group instead of doing what you truly believe is best for children. True collaboration shouldn't result in those things, and when "collaborating" causes a member of the group to have to choose between what is right and what is easy, it shouldn't be called collaboration in the first place.

Today, I charge us, the educators of children, to just do it: do what is best for children, no matter the cost, no matter the opposition. In the words of Taylor Swift, haters are gonna hate- and we just need to shake it off. Because these kids are worth it. They are worth us doing the right thing for them, even if it means facing disapproval or unpopularity from others. When it comes down to it, what we do everyday affects lives. A student's life is precious. Think about that a second- it's a LIFE! A life, a mind, a soul, a heart, a person. This is a life that we are helping to build and shape, and if we truly value it, we need to fight for the very best for them.

It will take a lot of courage and confidence to be able to do this well and to always try to do what is right for children, instead of what is easiest.

Imitation

I will always remember this moment. It was in March 2013 right after our annual Texas Public Schools Week celebration. You see, during this particular week every year, the school would invite parents and guardians to come and enjoy a morning in our classrooms, to watch their children engage in a typical morning routine, see how they interact with each other and with me, and get a glimpse of what life is like in our little first grade classroom. My mother also came on this particular morning because she always delights in seeing my students and me in action.

As the visiting time was coming to a close, the children were excitedly shuffling about, and the parents were making their ways to the door to leave, I had one parent mention the following to my mother before she left. "Now that I've spent a morning in the classroom, it is so clear to me that my son completely imitates everything that Mrs. Rubinson does back at home. From her mannerisms to the way she says things, the vocabulary she uses to the songs she sings, he does it all. Now I know where he's picked it all up from!"

Imitation. We, as teachers, will be imitated by our students. For 9 months a year, 5 days a week, 7+ hours a day, our students will imitate us. And what they imitate will aide in developing them into who they will become.

You see, as educators, we are so. much. more. than just implementers of the state standards.

We do so much more than analyze data, group students for RtI purposes, and document our daily minutes spent in small group intervention.

We give so much more than tests, quizzes, grades, projects- we give ourselves. And the thing is, if these children are truly imitators of the people around them, our job does not simply call us to develop lessons, but our job calls us to develop children.

My favorite thing about being a teacher I can sum up in these few words: I love getting to develop children into who they are meant to be. And this means that I must, must, must be someone worthy of imitation.

(This cannot be achieved for my-particular-self apart from my Heavenly Father, and I've learned that the hard way.)

Mistakes will be made, and I've learned this year how to discuss them with my students instead of hide them. To learn from figures such as Thomas Edison: "I haven't failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." And they imitate that, too. They imitate how we not only as teachers, but as adults, respond to failure or mistakes, how we react to change, how we celebrate growth and progress, how we speak towards others (children and colleagues), how we process through a think-aloud, how we persevere through difficult tasks...the list goes on.

I wish that more educators would recognize this incredible opportunity to shape young lives forever. I wish that instead of students sitting in desks doing mounds of worksheets that they would be sitting at the feet of their teacher, stretching their minds and growing their character. I wish that instead of teachers watching the clock for lunch and dismissal, or anxiously counting down the days until summer break, that they would see time as precious and fleeting, and that we only have so much of it to spend with these little ones before they continue on their way, our classroom a mere stepping stone on their life journey. Because our children may learn to watch the clock or count down the days, too, because we do- and in that, they may grow to believe that neither school nor learning are experiences they want to be a part of. You see? Everything we do...

I hope that I never undervalue my role as a developer who is imitated by young children.

2013-2014

People always told me to keep a blog, so that when the going got rough, I could look back on all the wonderful memories and be reminded why I love teaching and everything will be ok.

Whenever they would tell me this though, I would kind of shrug it off and think, it will never been that bad to where I am hopelessly grasping at straws, at any memento or blog post or note from a student or picture, that will give me hope back in this profession.

Well, guess what I just did?

Read my old blog posts.

And it reminded me to love again. To laugh again. To thank God for the gifts he has given me by giving me these 22 students. To remember that it won't always be like this...or like that!

Because honestly, it has been like *that* this year. I just read back to my second year posts and saw where it said, "We have finally found our groove..." and I've just been waiting, waiting, waiting for that groove to be found with my current group of kiddos. My heart cries out in pain each day for the small handful of students in my room who are just as confused as I am as to why things just aren't clicking. Just aren't working.

Working myself into a pit of anxiety and despair, I have become bitter. The other day I thought about the story of Naomi in Ruth, and how she changed her name to Mara (which means bitter) due to the hand that God had dealt her and thought, maybe I should be named Mara. Which then made me think that she lost her husband and her two sons, far greater despair than I have ever known, and then compared to my unruly field day experience or math lesson gone wrong, I am no longer convinced that I am even worthy of such name change.

And thus the cycle starts again. Beating myself up for feeling the way I do, telling myself I shouldn't be feeling this way, but then still feeling that way, and then being angry at myself for multiple reasons. It's a continuous spiral that I would rather not continue, but then the days pass on and the sun rises again and for the rest of my contracted 180 days I am expected to return, with a smile, to my front door at classroom P104 for another 8 hours of educating the most challenging group of children I have taught. There's nothing else to do, and I am faced with the daunting task of making it through another day. I ask myself, am I going to have anything thrown at me today? Is ______ going to make it through the day? Is ______ going to fit and tantrum all day or not? Is _______ going to yell at me or others? Are they going to learn today? Are we even accomplishing ANYTHING?

And then the moments happen. They are rare. But when they happen, they are AMAZING. The moments when we make it through a lesson without anyone yelling at each other, at me, or tantruming in the corner. The moments of disbelief when I am individually testing and I look up and everyone is actually doing what they are supposed to do, not destroying property or picking on someone else. The moments like this: yesterday we had a science day where we did volcano experiments and simulations. My kids were beyond ecstatic, their joy was real and felt, their intrigue and enthusiasm were unmatched. The laughter, excitement, and thrill that pulsed through each of my students was real, was authentic, was raw and made me remember WHY I love teaching again.

This year I've tied more shoes, wiped more tears, given more hugs, called more parents, high-fived more hands, tutored more, cried more, questioned more...but ultimately, I feel like I've given more. I've expended every single bit of myself that I could have. I've done all that I could do for these children. I've tried more ways than ever before to help them succeed, not only academically but behaviorally. But it still doesn't feel like I've given enough. At all.

Do you know why?

Because I've tried to do it on my own. And this is one reason why God is so important. Because it doesn't matter what we do. It doesn't matter what we try, what new ideas or approaches we use, how long we stay at school, if we stand at the door every morning or not, if we wear jeans one day and dress down from our usual professional attire. All of these elements I have tried to control for so long, and as much as they matter (if at all), God matters A WHOLE lot more. And He is going to do what He sees fit. He rules this world and all that is in it, and if He doesn't find it fitting or pleasing for our class to "find our groove" before the year is over, there is a reason. And I need to keep remembering this sobering truth, that God does as He pleases, and His will is going to be done, and I can't try to finagle things without Him and His beautiful outstretched hands.

And I can't forget that He loves me. That it is all done for my good according to His purpose. So all I ask is that Lord, you will bless the last 22 days I have with my 22 students at Foster Village Elementary, the last 22 days I will spend in this school. Help me to not be self consumed or inwardly focused, but create for us 22 days of beautiful learning and joy that we will look back on for years to come with fondness and reminiscent favor. All I want is for my current 22 students to know the Lord, love one another and find joy in life. Use me as an instrument for that purpose.

All of this to say, keeping a blog, having a place to store cherished thoughts and memories about what we do...teaching...is worth it. Because even though this post may be depressing, it felt good to let it out and it is part of it all. And there are also pages of past entries that fill me with gladness and remind me that the teaching profession is not hopeless, but FULL of hope. Bursting with hope at the seams.

Mrs. R is Back in Action...with the Arts

It is INCREDIBLE the amount of thought I have put into this blog. The past 2 years were filled with cute stories, adventures of interestingly named students, moments of vulnerability and vented frustration, and memories of times abroad and times in classroom P104.

I can't tell you how many blogs I have begrudgingly perused in haste as I try to find the latest and greatest way to teach or introduce new content. I think there are a lot of people with great ideas out there. But more times than none, I would browse until I was blue. "How do other teachers REALLY do all of those incredibly time consuming, high-preparatory activities with many, many 6 year old children, and still have their sanity?" I would ask myself.

Nevertheless, I love all the ideas that people have and share so openly and freely with others. I knew I wanted to do somewhat of the same, but still maintain my blog as more of a confessional space than one to post freebies (yet, who knows, maybe one day this will lead down that road!).

So, here is my confession today: CHILDREN LEARN THROUGH THE ARTS SO WE SHOULD BE DOING THEM MORE IN THE CLASSROOM.

I don't mean have a full day of 15 art activities and get no instruction taught. The trend that education is taking under its wing is to only look at the Texas Essential Knowledge Standards, known as the TEKS, pick and pull them apart until you are sweating about each verb and description in each standard and figuring out how you are going to assess that standard, then planning out learning activities along the way.

It's all about planning with the end in mind. The end is the standard being met through a means of testing or assessing that the children know it. But...what about the stuff that gets you there?

This is what I'm talking about. I was that kid who really, really sucked at soccer. I couldn't dribble a ball, and anything coming at me whether thrown or flying was automatically ducked. I still get pretty bothered with myself that my 3-year-old nephew can swing at a golf ball and actually make contact with it, where I still swing and get air. *sigh*

But what I DID do well were the arts. Art. Drawing. Painting. Sculpting. Oil pastels and colored pencils were my loves. Singing. Music, beats, rhythms, rhymes, poetry, playing instruments, reading notes on a page, making melodies. Dance. Movement, rhythm, ballet, tap, spinning, twirling, you name it. Dramatic play. Acting, being dramatic, playing house and coming up with Barbie doll scenarios and full-on performances a little too well.

Kids love these mediums and can learn through these mediums too. We don't need to ban them from schools or be told that they are a waste of time and don't correlate with curriculum. We need to find legitimate ways to integrate them into the content we are teaching to reinforce the skills that need to be taught, learned, and mastered.

Let the artistic flair begin!

The Nostalgia of my 2nd Year

It's so funny the things that make you nostalgic. For me, just now, it was putting in a load of laundry and deciding which work pants I needed to wash and iron for the week. Then, I remembered that we are allowed to wear jeans all week on our last week of school. And I stopped, and slowly lowered the pants into the washer, and started to cry.

As women, we get emotional over things that we just don't understand. Last week I couldn't stop crying over how much I love my fiance. Today, I teared up 4 times during worship at church, barely choking out the beautiful lyrics about our Savior's redeeming love. Those two are understandable. But today, I could barely lower my grey pair of J. Crew chinos into the washing machine without losing it.

I can't believe that I only have 5 days left with these incredible 20 children. This year has been so unexplainably challenging for me. I have had so many days where I've wondered if the teaching profession is for me. I've spent countless days after school wondering when their reading levels would go higher, questioning my teaching methods of the day, going crazy about all the paperwork that I still hadn't done. I went from a class who came to me with little respect for others and hardly any discipline, to a class who is serving one another, loving one another, actually loving to learn and all performing in math and reading at exceptional levels. We have come. so. far. It's hard to explain to outsiders exactly how far we have come, but to break it down for you would be impossible.

There were moments when I couldn't take another minute and I wanted to get out as fast as I could. I had visions of me ducking behind a large trashcan and not coming back out to teach. I had a hard time finding funny or cute things my kids would do or say because I was so immersed in correcting their behavior. But those months of endless redirection have paid off, and they are maturing into sweet, caring, respectful children. I am experiencing an immeasurable amount of joy and pride for my kids. They have done it. They are ready for 2nd grade. They treat others the way they want to be treated. They show interest in learning and are beginning to self-motivate themselves to learn and do and create and be. They have learned how to serve others and put others before themselves. Where there was once no light at the end of the tunnel, it is so clearly seen now...

Now, that I have to let them go.

I thought I'd be ready for the year to be over, and I am in many ways (getting married this summer, being a pool rat, being able to learn more and create things over the summer and start fresh). And yes, I am ready for the year to be over, but I'm not ready to pass on these children. Just like last year, the thought of passing them on to someone else scares me, but I know that they are not my children. They are the Lord's, and all I've been in their lives is a small light of his love, which has been entirely through his grace on me and the spirit within me. I have been a small part to play in the grand scheme of their lives, and all I can do is continue to put them into the Father's hands and pray for their little hearts and lives to grow and mature and know Jesus as their savior who loves them more than anyone ever could.

So as I put the work clothes away and reflect on another year of teaching, I know that God has given me exactly what, and who, I needed. My 20 students of P104, I needed you this year. You have allowed me to learn amazing lessons of patience, endurance, strength, courage; dependence on the Lord and the giving up of human power and strength; how to let God be the king of my classroom, instead of myself; how to love others for exactly who and what they are; and so many more. I love you, and I will always believe in you, be here for you, and care for you.

Until next year...when I become Mrs. Rubinson and my students have a difficult time with that last name...I pray for this last week to be filled with sweet moments with my precious little ones. Thank you for reading and allowing me to share my life with you.