Matt Renwick's Blog: Matt Renwick

This is a follow up to an article I wrote for Choice Literacy. I highly recommend signing up for a subscription to access all the smart thinking and writing from literacy teachers and leaders. I also appreciated Ruth Ayres’s thoughtful lead essay that builds off of the piece.

Earlier this year, my parents dropped off a box of artifacts from my childhood.

It was your typical collection: certificates of achievement, newspaper clippings of box scores from my athletic events, artwork from my primary years.

And report cards.

I didn’t need to rifle through them to remember what they stated. My report cards were always a bit of alphabet soup: a couple of As, a few Bs, a C here or there, and once in a while a D or even an F. The comments were equally diverse; “Hard Worker” might be printed directly above “Needs to apply himself better.”

At the time, I didn’t think much of this feedback, other than to chalk it up to my need for relevance with whatever work I might do and being pretty absent-minded.

But for whatever reason, revisiting these artifacts from my past prompted me to pay attention to some of my current challenges, for example:

Starting projects but only getting halfway done with many of themMisplacing my keys and my wallet on a seemingly rotating basisRegularly missing grammar and spelling errors in my writingA struggle with boredom

Also remembering that ADHD runs in my family, I finally decided to get assessed for it.

Not long after, I was diagnosed with ADHD combined type: inattentive and hyperactive, with the former quite prominent.

After feeling relief in an explanation for some of my challenges, a question came up for me:

Why didn’t I seek this assessment sooner?

The simplest answer is, I didn’t know what I didn’t know. Certainly, there were environmental cues that told me something was off. But the pernicious part about ADHD, at least for me, is the limited capacity for self-awareness and critical thinking – the very skills I needed to start addressing this challenge.

Now that I have started taking medication and engaging in counseling, things became more clear.

A short story to further explain this idea of not-knowing: In high school, we were preparing for the upcoming baseball season indoors. I was a pitcher, and I was throwing a simulated game off a wooden mound in the gym. The catcher started complaining that I wasn't throwing the pitches he was calling, for example a curve instead of a fastball. Shortly thereafter, I got my eyes checked and I was prescribed glasses. Oh, this is what I was missing, I remember thinking when I tried them on for the first time. For me, it was a somewhat similar experience once I started treatment for ADHD; it was almost like a new reality.

This leads to the second reason I pursued support: it was only until I began journaling and meditating that I could see my thoughts and experiences more objectively. I started this a couple of years ago when I applied strategies for being more present; I slowly realized how tired I was from working to improve and not seeing significant progress in comparison to my efforts.

To be clear, I cannot say that either journaling or meditation significantly helped me in terms of being more mindful and calm. But both activities did start to give me a sort of feedback loop, in which I could better gauge my ability to sustain these and other tasks. Conclusion: It was difficult.

And a final reason for delaying:

I didn’t want to admit that I might have ADHD.

It contradicted how I saw and presented myself: a productive educator, writer, and family man. Our culture accelerates judgement and rewards achievement, especially with the advent of social media. We are encouraged to portray ourselves to be Pinterest-perfect. Instagrammable. To acknowledge that I may not be who I thought I was would require not only being open and vulnerable; it would require an identity shift. I think at some level in my subconscious, this shift felt like too big of a change.

However, as I have reached this stage in my life, especially with the increasing realization that my time on this planet is limited (and no, it was not a mid-life crisis :-), the urgency to improve felt high.

Thankfully, the identity shift I have to make is one I am starting to welcome: an imperfect person who is still a successful educator, writer, dad, and husband, with the added benefit of being able to use this knowledge and self-awareness to better help myself and maybe even others.

Three things I have learned after being diagnosed with ADHD.#1 – Admitting that I might have this challenge was the first step to seeking help.

I see this initial reluctance with others too, especially parents who are hesitant to have their child evaluated. I believe it goes beyond not wanting their child to take medicine, although that is certainly part of the issue. It goes deeper, particularly (I suspect) to a need of avoiding the perception of appearing flawed or feeling like a failure as a parent. It’s not an accurate narrative but it can still feel very true for someone.

This understanding is something I will bring more consistently to my conversations with others.

#2 – Counseling and medication are only part of the solution.

Don’t get me wrong – these two interventions have been crucial for becoming and feeling more successful.

Exhibit A: I had two teachers tell me how smoothly the first couple days of school went this year. While recognizing an awesome faculty, staff and group of parents to help make this happen, I do chalk up some of this smoothness to my improved capacity to get things done more efficiently and to do them well.

In addition to these hoped-for changes, I’ve also noticed that I have increased patience for the people in my personal life. I don’t feel myself getting as annoyed with issues we all deal with. There’s this lessening of reactivity to the events in my life when they don’t match my expectations. Self-regulation has improved.

And yet counseling and medication are not the complete solution to a challenge like this. Although pretty new to this situation, what I’ve noticed is they help lay the foundation for forgiving my past self, being at ease with my current self, and more likely reaching that future self I want to achieve.

It’s also not all about me, which leads into my third understanding…

#3 – When we take care of ourselves, we can better take care of others.

I’ll be honest: I was not totally sold on self-compassion as a strategy for improving myself. Journaling, meditation, etc. felt a little woo-woo.

What I’ve realized is that by addressing my needs first, I can better respond to the needs of others. A smooth start to the school year, less frustration at home…the benefits I receive from taking care of myself seem to have a multiplier effect. Self-compassion and compassion for others are mutually inclusive.

Okay, I will leave you with one more question that you may be wondering:

Why am I sharing this with you?

First, writing is how I process my thinking and experiences. Like the journaling I did before my diagnosis, I can see how I view reality right now and respond accordingly.

Second, by writing publicly, I hope that others who might struggle with similar challenges will seek out support and get answers. Maybe the challenge is internal, external, or a mix of both.

Finally, I want to do my best to represent how the world actually exists instead of perpetuating the myth of perfection that social media and other online platforms encourage. It’s unhealthy to constantly feel this need to meet expectations that simply aren’t attainable, at least without sacrificing our well-being. I write online to support others and to offer solutions to their challenges.

By openly sharing my own challenges and sharing the solutions that have helped me, maybe that’s the best way to help you, too.

Take care,

Matt

The post What I’ve learned after being diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 45 appeared first on Matt Renwick.

I had to choose between two frames for new glasses. My wife wasn’t with me at the eye care center. She is a better judge on these matters, so I took out my flip phone to take a picture of my options and texted it to her for her opinion.

The technician helping me commented: “Oh, I didn’t know they made those anymore.”

My efforts to disconnect never fail to surprise. As a fully functioning adult without a smartphone, I am an outlier. It is normal now to be tethered to the Internet, to be “on call” to all during waking hours (and at all times for those that keep their smartphones in their bedrooms).

Using a flip phone is not without its challenges. For example, I actually have to flip the phone open to see who is calling or texting – another layer to this communication process. And speaking of texting, yes: I have to push the number button three or even four times for each letter. It has forced me to ask others to call me or email me if the conversation goes on beyond a sentence or two.

(Sidebar: The coolest flip phone I ever owned was the Quantico by Motorola. It could be submersed in water, had great reception, could take a beating, and even looked cool within its obvious constraints.)

These intentional obstacles are part of creating space between myself and the world that wants my attention. With my iPhone X I was only too happy to oblige. The seamless barrage of messages, notifications, and reminders was a draw that I could not resist. Not to mention the sheer design of the iPhone, for example the visual attractiveness of the apps: colored buttons nudging my brain to push them.

If you feel resistance to these ideas, some designers at Apple may have agreed with you. Except one: Steve Jobs. He was reluctant to fully embrace the iPhone as more than just a tool for improving your life. As computer scientist Cal Newport describes:

Mr. Jobs seemed to understand the iPhone as something that would help us with a small number of activities — listening to music, placing calls, generating directions. He didn’t seek to radically change the rhythm of users’ daily lives. He simply wanted to take experiences we already found important and make them better.

The iPhone and other smartphones have now become for many of us “constant companions”, as Newport notes.

Under what I call the “constant companion model,” we now see our smartphones as always-on portals to information. Instead of improving activities that we found important before this technology existed, this model changes what we pay attention to in the first place — often in ways designed to benefit the stock price of attention-economy conglomerates, not our satisfaction and well-being.

This begs the question: who is driving how you live your days?

While Newport calls for taking a minimalist approach to your smartphone, such as deleting apps unless they truly add value to your life, I have taken a more extreme approach: treating my iPhone as an iPod.

It’s freeing to separate my personal connections from my professional ones. I use my iPhone now as a personal digital assistant.

Things for creating to-do lists and remindersEvernote for scanning documents and notesKindle for reading when I have the opportunityA couple of news apps for staying current with the world

I’ve been tempted and even tried out the more tantalizing apps on the device, such as Twitter. But before long my brain was addled by the mental draw to check what was being posted. I have learned that I need to make it hard to engage online, as well as easier to be present in my physical reality.

My kids and I now call it my “almost phone”. They will also pick it up at times and play games that they downloaded.

Recently, my son asked to create an Instagram account. He is an avid artist and wants to post pictures of his work. “Just to share your art?” I asked. He also requested following other artists and appreciating their posts. We agreed. He has an intention that is value-added. There are no false equivalencies here; the tool serves his larger purpose.

The post Your iPhone is Not Your Friend appeared first on Matt Renwick.

If possible, I would like to switch to a less robust, more basic cell phone for work. Specifically, not a smartphone. Do you have any suggestions?

I sent this email to our cellular provider representative after 24 hours of not finding my school-issued iPhone X. My goal is to go back to a simpler device for phone calls and texts by the new year, which will be my Day 1.

What was the straw that broke that camel’s back? Not that I lost it, but that for those first couple of hours without my smartphone, there were several moments where I was not sure what to do with myself.

I wanted to check Twitter for updates on the Russian government hack. I wanted to see how many steps I had for the day. I wanted to assess how much time I had spent on my iPhone. Not having it available, I resorted to watching a rerun of Jessie on Disney+ with my kids (who happened to also be on separate screens at the same time). I laughed at a few of the scenes in spite of myself. When’s the last time I laughed due to my phone?

This unintentional break revealed how integrated my life was with the smartphone. Even my attempts at reducing screen time required a brief moment of screen time. Absurd.

There are benefits, for sure. I can snap a picture in the moment or listen to a podcast while driving, as examples. These are positives. The question remains though: do they outweigh the costs?

The primary cost of having a smartphone is my attention. What am I ignoring when my mind is fully engaged with the screen? Studies show that even when a phone is not in use but within proximity, our minds still devote at least part of our attention to the potential it offers for digital connection. (This is sometimes referred to as “continuous partial attention”.)

I do not want this post or future reflections to be a general critique of the Internet. We have benefited so much from being able to communicate online. For example, once scientists in China mapped the RNA sequence of COVID-19, they posted it on the web. Not long after, pharmaceutical companies had developed testing kits and started working on the vaccine we now have today, in record time. Between then and today, I doubt these scientists were checking their Twitter feed or their step count on their iPhone. They were too busy engaged in this important task.

That is my purpose here. How do I want to allocate my time? (I am using the verb “allocate” instead of “spend” to avoid money metaphors – more on that in a later post.) My priority is toward my family, my work, my interests and passions. But is it truly a priority if our attention is constantly elsewhere?

I have made strides toward untethering myself from the digital world and have written about it in the past. But these tools are insidious. They find new entry points into our worlds, like water flowing down a leaky roof. The surest way to addressing the issue is to act on our awareness of what the real problem is: our attachment to staving off boredom with a constant flow of information. My attention is no match for the all-too convenient access to all things digital. In other words: “iPhone, we have a problem.”

I’ll be writing more about my process on this site, with future posts rounded up at my newsletter. Sign up below – it’s free.

The post iPhone, We Have a Problem (Day -12 Without a Smartphone) appeared first on Matt Renwick.

We have another free digital event happening on Tuesday, December 1, at 6:00 p.m. ET. We hope you will join us! https://t.co/VhwqsG9t0u pic.twitter.com/1JScWPqqzg

— ILA (@ILAToday) November 25, 2020

I will be hosting a chat at my newsletter to discuss the ideas presented during this webinar. We hope to continue the conversation afterward. If you have not already, sign up today to receive the email for the discussion.

The post Equitable and Comprehensive Literacy Instruction: Join the Discussion appeared first on Matt Renwick.

In this article for MiddleWeb, I highlight how remote learning has shined a light on the importance of speaking and listening skills. Two examples of technologies + strategies are offered for teachers to consider as they prepare for the upcoming school year.

The post A Renewed Interest in Speaking and Listening Skills appeared first on Matt Renwick.

In this post for The Stenhouse Blog, I write about literacy instruction also supporting the social and emotional development of students. These ideas are inspired by the blog’s upcoming book study choice, Engaging Literate Minds: Developing Children’s Social, Emotional, and Intellectual Lives, K–3, starting June 15. Read contributors’ posts throughout June and July, plus join our discussions every Wednesday at 4:30 P.M. CST at the newsletter (sign up for free below).

The post SEL and Literacy: A Natural Combination appeared first on Matt Renwick.

“What is labeled as ‘fluff’ is more often the stuff of leadership and culture.”

—Terrence Deal, Kent Peterson, Shaping School Culture

While the word “community” may be last in “Professional Learning Community,” it should be the first priority when schools start on this journey.

Organizational leader Peter Block defines community as “the structure of belonging”. He describes belonging in two ways:

“To be related to and a part of something. It is membership, the experience of being at home in the broadest sense of the phrase.”“To act as a creator and co-owner of that community.”

How can schools create a sense of belonging that reduces isolation and increases connectedness in the name of learning for all? In response, I offer tangible ideas that any school leader—principal, teacher, staff member—can implement for lasting impact.

Gifts

Historically, gifts were considered a contribution, an offering of one’s possession to another. Euphemisms such as “the gift of time” speak to the deeper meaning of gift-giving: that we part with something in order to improve the lives of others. This act is essential for community building.

What school leaders might part with or contribute to the school can be inexpensive or even free. For example, 30 minutes of prep time certificates can be distributed to teachers. A school leader can then cover class while the teacher uses this time for other tasks. More typical gifts popular in our school include sticky notes, notebooks and pens, and, during the cold and flu season, sanitizer. Gifts show we care.

Food

Family dinners are a staple in many cultures. Food is a community builder that goes beyond a simple meal. It is an event for coming together and sharing our lives and learning about others’ experiences. Food is a connection between home and school that can evoke feelings of togetherness and belonging.

In our school, we have monthly luncheons in our staff lounge to recognize staff birthdays. People bring in desserts in addition to the main course. This tradition offers everyone regular opportunities to come together and celebrate. Food lifts our collective moods and provides people the chance to socialize with others without all the stress that can come with our work.

Recognition

When I talk with teachers outside of my school and I ask what they would most like from their leaders, a common response is, “Do they think I am doing a good job?”

The desire for recognition is especially needed in education. Our jobs are so complex that it is hard to tell if the direction we are heading with kids is the right one. Sometimes we don’t know our impact on a child until they have moved on to the next classroom. So, it is imperative that leaders recognize teachers’ efforts in moving everyone toward the school vision.

Getting into classrooms can be a great opportunity to appreciate their work. Verbal affirmations and short notes about what they did and why you found it impressive can go a long way in confirming for teachers how their work positively impacts student learning. To not recognize teachers’ efforts regularly can leave them wondering and worried about their performance. Why not tell them about the positive contributions we observe them making? They feel acknowledged and we feel good. It’s a win-win.

Environment

Our hallways and classrooms communicate as much about our beliefs and values as do our instructional practices and resources. For example, does the front entrance convey feelings of welcoming and inclusivity? If not, consider posting positive messages on the walls conveying what the school is all about. In our lobby, we have our Model PLC banner hanging proudly on the wall by the front doors.

The rest of the school should encourage the behaviors we desire to see in our work. For instance, if a school values collaboration and communication, then it makes sense to invest in tables, chairs and modern space utilization. Students and teachers can only achieve these specific goals if they have the opportunity in which to participate in social experiences.

Time

Schoolwide schedules are often dictated by programs and mandates. Little teacher input is typically requested when developing a structure for our days. To build a sense of belonging, time has to be allocated for community to thrive.

Intentionality and creativity are key here. We may find that the challenge is not in the schedule itself but rather in how we frame our existing instructional time. While there are many ways to craft a schedule that works, one promising approach is to identify the school’s values and then address those first.

As an example, what periods of time are devoted to extended writing experiences? In this situation, maybe readers workshop should be combined with writing. These scheduling innovations can help us rethink how we allocate our limited time while improving academic achievement, i.e. connecting reading and writing.

Talk

When a community is strong, people are more likely to talk with one another. Teacher talk is critical for idea-sharing and implementation of promising practices. A strong community has developed criteria for how we conduct ourselves in an effective manner, such as norms and commitments. The school becomes safer for mistake making, a prerequisite for learning.

These rules of engagement, or what I have heard described as “the dance of conversation,” is a deliberate process. School leaders can model it by demonstrating professional talk for faculty. As an example, during classroom visits, principals can engage in dialogue with a teacher about what he or she did and why they chose this course of action. When teachers mentally run through their process and thinking, they can recognize how their actions led to student learning. In addition, through reflective dialogue they are more likely to identify opportunities for improvement in the future.

I understand and agree with the importance of conducting ourselves as professionals as well as collaborating effectively on behalf of our students. These actions are essential for building a PLC. Yet this work does not leave the starting line if a school does not first develop a school community that fosters a sense of belonging for all. If we expect professionalism, we need to treat each other as professionals. Learning can only occur when trust is high and our collective purpose is clear. That is why community should be our first priority when beginning this journey.

References: 

Block, P. (2018). Community: The Structure of Belonging (2nd Ed.). San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers.Deal, T. E., & Peterson, K. D. (2016). Shaping School Culture (3rd Ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

This article was originally published on the All Things PLC blog here via Solution Tree.

The post The PLC Journey Starts with Community appeared first on Matt Renwick.

Technology is not a tool for learning. As I described in my first book for ASCD, it is a tool to help facilitate a learning experience. People can discover new information through the Internet, they have access to software for collecting ideas and receiving feedback on their work, and they can share new and original content with a wide audience. Technology in and of itself is not the purpose of learning; it mediates the process.

So where might technology best fit within the flow of a lesson? Consider three phases: connect, curate, and communicate. I’ll be sharing more about authentic technology integration at this workshop on March 12 and during my session at ASCD Empower 2019.

Connect

This first phase typically happens at the beginning of a lesson or a unit of study. What content do we want students to explore? How can they access and interact with this information? Why is what we are discovering worth knowing now and in the future?

Ideas for Technology IntegrationPadlet: Pose a provocative question on this digital wall and have students respond online to the inquiry and to each other. This gives students an opportunity to engage in online dialogue and practice digital discourse.QR Code Menu: Create a board with QR codes that link to online videos, audio, podcasts, articles, and creative content that connects with a topic of study. We can differentiate our delivery in a relevant way for today’s students.Twitter lists: Create a Twitter list of other classroom accounts and reliable sources of information to learn from others and pose questions online about our studies. Students can take new perspectives on issues while developing media literacy.Curate

At this stage, students are immersed in the organization and selection of information that will support the development of their final product. What is the best way to manage different ideas and content? Are there specific skills and strategies for effective learning? How do we know if we are making progress?

Ideas for Technology IntegrationFlipgrid: Have students respond to a question or task using video recording and publishing for others. The teacher and students can both observe their answers and assess their speaking and listening skills (if that is part of the work).Google Forms: Typically we see these used as exit slips or pre-assessments. What if you asked kids during the lesson how things were going with their learning? Teachers could adjust their instruction when it really mattered.Kidblog: Blogs can be presented as online journals that can be used by students to reflect on their learning and invite others to comment on their visible thinking. Time should be spent teaching students how to provide feedback effectively.Communicate

Student products need an audience beyond their teacher. Where could students post their work as an appropriate forum? How might the concept of “publish” increase student motivation to produce their best work? How should their work be housed?

Ideas for Technology IntegrationGoogle Sites: Students can develop their own website and post their best work from their Drive account. This portfolio can move with the student throughout their educational career if a district adopts this technology.FreshGrade: For more immediate opportunities for students to post products of their learning, this tool has a social media feel that parents find engaging and mobile friendly. Comments and online dialogue are encouraged.HaikuDeck: If students have to deliver a presentation, this slide tool is web-based and guides the user to be brief and visual with their content. There is also a feature to record audio and create a self-guided tour or module.

The post Three Points for Technology Integration appeared first on Matt Renwick.

You’ve probably experienced this before: While checking out at a local store, the clerk asks if you would like to donate $1 to an important cause or organization. With others in line, you feel a sense of urgency along with a bit of guilt while making a decision.

Recently, I have countered this request with a question of my own:

“Does (insert name of franchise) match my donation?” Every time I have asked, I get one of two responses: “No” or a look of confusion. For the latter, more than once the sales representative has commented that if their store does not, maybe they should.

Our beliefs and our values in schools and districts are too often two different things. For example, schools post their mission and vision in the hallway about offering the best education for all students. Yet they fail to adequately support our most marginalized students. Policies and procedures are developed that cluster low SES students in poorer neighborhoods. Scripted, one-size-fits-all programs are purchased at once instead of investing in ongoing and embedded professional learning. Classroom libraries and school librarians are viewed as ancillary instead of the essential resources that they are.

Source: Flickr

Of course, no school or district is going to proclaim that, due to limited funding and support, not all students may have access to the same high-quality education. Yet is that what is truly stopping us? If we are finding distance between our beliefs (what we say we agree upon) and our values (how we live out our beliefs daily), I have found it helpful to have real conversations and ask honest questions about the current reality. If everyone involved is invited to the table and is allowed to speak candidly about the issues, this can only lead to the start of a better learning culture for our students, staff, and families.

Testing season is upon us. In our Title I elementary school in Central Wisconsin, we have had students preview the computerized assessment. The Chromebooks have been configured and the wireless tested. For the next six weeks, all 3rd through 5th grade students will be taking the Forward Exam, our third different standardized test in as many years.

All of our students except one: My son. He will be sitting this one out.

Our reasons are many. As a parent, I don’t believe the test will glean any useful information about his abilities as a learner. As our school’s principal, I want to set the example with regard to my position on this issue. As a person, having a student sit for multiple hours taking an examination that will have no bearing on his school career makes little to no sense. Students at this age cannot advocate for themselves.

This is not a simple or straightforward decision. Our school has been the recipient of $100,000 in state-level grants for the past three years in large part due to our student achievement results. We have taken pride in receiving these awards, in spite of the reality of how we received them. If other families in our school elected to opt out their kids, our school could lose federal funding – 95% of a school’s student body has to take the test to avoid sanctions. As I said, not so simple.

For these reasons, we are not only opting our son out of this year’s standardized test; we are also opting him into a performance portfolio assessment.

While the rest of the student body is testing, my son and I will be working together to develop an online repository of different artifacts that demonstrate his progress and performance during the school year. Each artifact will be accompanied with a personal reflection about why he included the piece and what knowledge, skill or disposition it showcases about him as a learner. We are using Google Sites for this process. He can take this digital portfolio with him throughout his school career, adding to it and replacing artifacts when appropriate.

I have no problem with families electing to opting their child(ren) out of the standardized test. It certainly makes a point and, collectively, can lead to some much needed change in education. At the same time, when we express our dissatisfaction with something currently happening, I believe we should also be offering some alternatives and creative solutions. Otherwise, we may create a vacuum that gets filled with something pretty similar to the problem we were trying to get rid of in the first place.

If we are opting out our kids of the standardized test, let’s be honest about why with them. When I spoke to my son about this decision, I explained that I believe developing a performance portfolio of his best work from the school year was a better way to showcase his learning than a standardized test. (He responded with, “I’m not sure what you are talking about, so I’ll just go with it.”) I also shared with him that this decision was both taking a position on an important issue and offering a solution to the problem.

Opting out is easy. Coming up with solutions is harder, yes, but it is also an essential part of advocating for equity in public education. Why not be a part of the solution?