The Teacher’s Addition
homophones: words that sound the same but have totally different meanings
Over the years, I’ve filled notebooks and journals with endless ideas and thoughts about teaching. There are days when I feel that I have enough experience and knowledge to fill a swimming pool. On other days, I find myself reading the works of Penny Kittle, Jo Boaler, or Susan O’Connell and I feel like my knowledge base couldn’t fill a raindrop. I read through stacks of books by educators with social media followings that are larger than life. I listen to podcasts that so eloquently express all of my feelings about teaching children. I start to think about how much more I have to find out; how much more I need to know in regards to making my practice better.
But no matter how much I think I know or need to know about teaching children, I am clear about my heart. I am certain that I am willing to grow and learn and progress as an educator. I do know that. Reading new research and writing curriculum is something I have loved since I began teaching. For years, I have wanted to find a way to share my ideas and my perspective in a way that felt right for me. I’ve wanted to do this while learning alongside others. I’ve spent many nights tossing and turning about how to do just that. Is it necessary? Is what I have to say even meaningful? If I share out my thoughts, ideas, and resources, will other teachers think I’m trying to say that I know it all? Will others share their thoughts and ideas too?
At first glance, the name “The Teacher’s Addition” may seem like a cute name for a math teacher blog. I have to be honest. I love teaching math, but this is not a math website. The name is a play on words. A homophone. The name came to me when thinking about what a teacher adds to the classroom. Throughout my career, I’ve observed many classrooms. The ones that live in my brain are those where teachers are veering away from their teacher “editions” and believing first in their teacher “additions”- those things that we add to our classrooms and our lessons based on the faces in front of us. The little things that we know they need. The ones who are with us for multiple hours in a day, and not the ones that the teacher editions imagine. When I think about a teacher’s edition, I imagine my first experiences as an educator. I imagine my reliance. And I imagine a tight grip. But then, I start to think about the years where I began knowing my people; knowing the people holding space in those little brown desks. And I start to think about my teacher “additions.” I remember when I started to break away from that thick, red, spiral-bound book, and I began adding moments and meaning to my instruction.
I want to be clear. I am not stating that a teacher’s edition is not helpful. I am constantly researching new books and resources to supplement my instruction. I look to teacher’s editions for guidance, mapping, and practice. I just find that what we add holds much more value. This little venture is not about complaining that the district curriculum choices are weak or protesting the scripted programs that are available. That’s not what this is about.
This is about learning together. Growing together. Breaking away a bit together.
It feels like I have dropped and picked up this idea 100 times. Because of those sleepless nights I mentioned earlier, I started praying for direction. I started reaching out to mentors and family, colleagues and students, administrators and friends. Their encouragement has bolstered my confidence, and so I’m going for it. I don’t know where it’s going or what it will look like in a year, two years, or even next week. I just know that I feel a tug at my heart to share. I’m planning to use this forum to share thoughts from other educators, resources, ideas, pictures, and relationships. But then again, I don’t know what this little community could grow into. I just know I’m starting it for one purpose: let’s trust our teacher additions as much as our teacher editions.
