Growth mindset

Each department at my school has been asked to do the same activity certain days this week to provide a cohesive beginning to all our students. We as a department chose to cover the topic of the growth mindset today.

I showed a short clip and had some discussion topics ready. Truth be told, I wasn’t really expecting to hear anything astounding, as this is Day 2 and people are still quiet (that won’t last long). But I hoped to get them to think and to self-analyze a bit.

As usual, the kids were more impressive than I gave them credit for.

There was one question that was answered so eloquently in various classes that I got goosebumps throughout the day just listening to my students articulate their thoughts. The question was: “What would it look like if teachers bought into the growth mindset? Students? Parents?”

Some of my favorite answers:

If teachers bought into the growth mindset, they would be more willing to learn from their students.

If students bought into the growth mindset, we would risk more.

If my parents bought into the growth mentality, they would encourage my passions–not their wishes.


They got that after a five-minute video and a short lecture?

What was really interesting to me was a conclusion that came very organically in most of my classes: that when they become parents, they need to be very intentional about encouraging a growth mindset in their kids so as to break this cycle of fixed thinking.

That part was not in my notes, friends. That was all them.

I think I’ll keep this group.


Day 1…

I’m lying comfortably in my bed with freshly washed hair, sweat pants I’ll never retire, and feet that ache.

The good kind of ache.

The kind of ache that reminds me exactly what happened today: that I made it through another first day. Me. The introverted girl who doesn’t even have a real high school diploma herself made it through another first day in a high school that boasts 3500 students.

No day gets more attention than the first day of school. You never have to answer the question “How was today?!” as many times as you do Day 1. And I’ll never know quite how to answer it. Nor do I feel I should.

Because I’m not here for Day 1.

I’m here for Day 6 when we get to celebrate our first birthday.

I’m here for Day 11 when the Unit Circle comes to life.

I’m here for Day 32 when a calculus student realizes she’s actually very gifted in mathematics.

I’m here for Day 51 when a hug can help carry a burden–even for just a moment.

I’m here for Day 68 when we cheer our boys on to another state championship.

I’m here for Day 82 when we come back from travels with stories.

I’m here for Day 93 when we finally learn how derivatives and integrals are related.

I’m here for Day 112 when we laugh so hard we can’t breathe.

I’m here for Day 131 when the kid that’s been quiet all year is teaching a group of peers how analyze a motion problem.

I’m here for Day 160 when I hold my breath and pray that all they learned will be remembered.

I’m here for Day 165 when I watch them walk across that stage proud, nervous, and as happy as they’ve ever been.

And I’m here for Day 172 when the last bell has rung, the desks are empty; and I remember that 171 days ago, the hearts for whom I long were mere strangers.

And that’s why I love Day 1. Because I can’t have the rest without it. Because it reminds me of the beauty of new beginnings. Because it brings to the forefront of my mind that I am–and always will be–in this for the long haul.

I know this works. I know because even today I got messages of love from past students via text, email, or sibling carrier.

They’re all with me for a reason. We will blossom together this year. Of this I am certain.

I explained to my freshman today that I don’t give homework because research does not show that it’s effective, that I want them to practice around people and me instead of alone, and that I wouldn’t want them to give me homework after a long day at school. “Man I wish all teachers felt like that.”

I played a Kahoot today to remind/introduce procedures and where stuff is at in the room. I think the kids have more fun coming up with nicknames than actually playing the game but one kid called himself Mr. Miller and I just couldn’t stop laughing. Another kid somehow had the computer entering random names for him so it kept changing from ‘lightning’ to ‘partridge’ to ‘congo’ and we could not stop laughing.

Yesterday a girl mentioned she was concerned about class this year and I mentioned I was worried about her in our Google Classroom private comments. Today in the hallway she told me I didn’t have to worry about her and everything is fine.

For our very first INB page, I asked the students to color and it just felt so relaxing for everyone to quietly be coloring. A student said “You should read us a story book”.  lol


Effort Is Attractive

I’ve been surprised on how many students have commented on my new trash cans (gray instead of green) and especially how many boys. A student pulled out my new dry erase books that I spent forever making and commented on how I was getting fancy.

I love that I picked up my relationships with students 3 months later as if no time has passed. High fives, conversations, and routines just carried over from last year.

This morning I did’t get copies made that I needed and my computer wouldn’t log in. Luckily I forgot how long it takes students to do stuff and overplanned so that I didn’t even need my copies.  I’m so glad that I’ve done this enough times to wing it without anyone noticing.

I got a new computer for my SMART board and I have the option to get a new ipad as well. Yes, I love technology (in my Kip singing voice).

I overheard my freshmen talking about how they are going to like my class, just from organizing our binders and decorating our notebooks. I’m telling you, effort is attractive and everyone wants to see it.

I already have 12, 942 steps for the day!!!


Serve+Create 2018

Today is my favorite (and also least favorite) day of the year. My calc kids presented their Serve+Create Projects (directions: serve someone and create something). As usual, they did not disappoint. In turn, I read Oh, the Places You’ll Go! You’ll be proud and impressed that I managed to mostly hold it together post-first hour.

I love ending the year with this show-and-tell kind of day. I love seeing how creative my students are via mediums of which I am often oblivious. I love the unique ways in which they serve. I love that when they present, their peers are always so supportive and genuinely impressed with their classmates’ talents.

On the flip side, seeing so much good from one group in just one day reminds me how unique each year is…and how saying goodbye means forfeiting a little piece of myself. A year of your life; a year of your career…gone. It’s the best and worst part of this job: sending students out as our representatives, knowing that they are going to make a positive impact on our community, and yet knowing that for most of these students, our role will–at best–diminish.

In celebration of this year, here are just a few things my students did to serve others:

  • Donated clothing
  • Cooked meals
  • Bought food for the homeless
  • Volunteered at nursing homes
  • Volunteered at the humane society
  • Wrote notes of encouragement and gratitude
  • Payed for the next car’s meal at a drive thru
  • Donated hair for children with cancer and alopecia
  • Taught the class how to properly throw a baseball 🙂
  • Helped neighbors with lawn care
  • Helped teachers around the school
  • Cleaned debris on Devil’s Den
  • Made goodie bags for teachers
  • Gave rides to friends
  • Made care packages for friends going to college and traveling overseas
  • Made a signed helmet for a coach

And many, many more.

And here is just a taste of the create part. There were many other wonderful ones that don’t lend themselves all that well to photos, such as writing code to encrypt a message by changing pixels on an image; a thank you video; and cookies and cake balls and more cookies!

I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again. For those who claim the world is getting worse, I beg to differ. I wholeheartedly believe the world is being restored and renewed. And I believe that we play a vital role in relieving the current suffering. The reason I assign this project as my kids’ last assignment is that I want them to practice service and art because they can go hand-in-hand in that process of restoration.

I am so sad to see another group come and go…

And still I know: our influence is expanding; they are taking the good with them.

Goodbye, to my wonderful calculus class of 2018. Thank you for your tenacity, your kindness, your encouragement, and your generosity. Thank you for sticking with me through a tumultuous year in Oklahoma public education. Thank you for greeting me with a smile every day. Thank you for making me laugh, for being my one good thing.

I am so grateful to have shared Room 2704 with you. Its door will always be open to you.

Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.


Jonas’s last day of daycare was today, which has turned out to be an unexpected gift. It’s given me a reason to take a couple personal days to be with him before I leave him and his daddy for eight days to help score three hundred thousand AP Calculus Exams.

I’m both thrilled and terrified.

All that to say, today was my last day for a while as I’m taking tomorrow and Tuesday off. That meant I had to say a couple early goodbyes and got to listen to a couple early Serve+Creates. And I wasn’t quite ready for that.

This group is so incredibly generous and loving and passionate. And it hurts me to have to say goodbye. Yet again.

A student wrote me a beautiful note today. In it he said:

“I now have so much more faith in my abilities in not just math, but also in my personal life…You have helped me become more aware of my best qualities; even when I do not see these things, you do, and I thank you.”

As I held back the tears, I thought about how accurately those words described just how I felt: these Loves bring out the best in me; and even when I don’t see it, they do.

And I thank them for it.

And will miss them tremendously because of it.


One of my student’s moms was on campus today and my student asked if they could stop by during lunch. When they came in, her mom said she wanted to personally thank me for this year. Then she handed me a card from her and her daughter, saying she wished she could do more…

I struggle to find the words that describe the bond I feel with these parents that I often never meet. I know that for the majority of my students, no one loves them more than their parents. No one has sacrificed more or worked harder for them than the individuals that chose to make them part of their families. And while my work and my sacrifice for these kids pales in comparison, I adore them all the same. I want to see the very best for them. And while my role is much smaller than that of a parent or guardian, I take it seriously nonetheless.

And so when a parent thanks me for the work I’ve done, I can’t help but shy away from the compliments because I know the truth: they’re the ones who raised the amazing kid standing with us.

And yet, I also can’t help but accept the thanks because I know from whom it’s coming. The gratitude of a parent is something so deep and so holy. And to be told, “You’re a part of our story” is something I don’t lightly.

So thank you, parents. Thank you for trusting us with your kids. Thank you for supporting us. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for letting us be a part of the story.

Partnering with you to help your kid achieve her goals is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.