Skip to main content

Courage Needed

I’ve been an Innovation Specialist for one year; here’s what it has taught me.

I have been an Innovation Specialist for one year. In this time, I have only scratched the surface of what it means to have this role. I am beginning to understand teachers and students at higher levels. On a given day, I have brief moments in which I believe I have cracked the code: I know what to do and I know how to help and I can acutely see how one small pivot will make a difference in our school district. And then, a little hiccup hits the next day and I realize just how little I know. In the past year, I have been in 5 schools, dozens and dozens of classrooms, and held individualized learning sessions with teachers and teachers and teachers. I love it.

I work in Google Drive and Facebook and Twitter. I work from my phone, and my MacBook, and my iPad. Every day is different because every day is focused on meeting the needs of my teachers. There are quiet days where I can focus on the projects that are on my to-do list, and days that extend well beyond contract hours. There are days that I have a chance to create and share good news and there are days that are dominated by troubleshooting.

This year, I have lead 9 group meetings for our Personalized Learning leads. I have hosted 12 Adobe Connect and 12 Face to Face learning sessions for new teachers. I have began to rally teachers around micro-credentials and worked to craft policy and procedure around such.

I broke our district website for a weekend and lost several hours of sleep over it.

I spent a transformative week in Cupertino at Apple Academy, where I learned how to tell stories, connect with others, and take risks.

I became Google Certified and earned my Swift Playground badge.

For a hiccup example: on a Friday in May, one that looked like any other, I broke our district website. I clicked a simple button on the backend that rendered the front end basically worthless. No articles. No links. No pictures. All weekend long I dreamed about our homepage, having nightmares about pushing refresh and seeing nothing. I had to take a step back and acknowledge my own lack of knowledge and ask for help. It required a large dose of humility.

And sometimes, moments of clarity. This year, I have earned 5 micro-credentials. I have supported teachers as district-wide we have earned over 40. Those 40 badges represent growth and courage and learning. I understand now just how much we are asking when we ask teachers to engage the platform. We are asking for courage and we are asking for trust. Trust us enough to come with us on this journey. Trust YOURSELF enough to take the first step toward a better you. Leave your comfort zone and join me as you take a risk. 

Micro-credentials feel risky because you are submitting evidence to a stranger. You are holding up your baby Lion-King style and letting the whole savanna take a look. Each time I submit a micro-credential, I hold my breath for just a moment. But I do it because I know that this role requires bravery. I have to engage if I am asking our teachers to do the same.

My dear friend, Kiera Beddes, was featured in a podcast on Soundcloud. As I heard her speak, I am reminded of what we are doing and why. We are trying to improve our culture of learning. We are trying to create a personalized, flexible learning environment for students. 

Last week, I met with the assistant superintendent and we talked about what might go on a t-shirt. What message do we want to give our stakeholders? What is at the heart of what we are doing? I answered that we are trying to improve learning district-wide. In contrast, he believes that we are trying to personalize learning so that we can make school “work” for a greater number of students. If we make it JUST about learning, then the standardized test at the end of the year is the metric. And we know that is not the goal. The goal is the create a structure in which multiple measures of success are celebrated. Multiple measures of success are recognized. It’s not just about a final score.

It’s been a formative year, one where I have very much had to internalize the idea of #growthmindset. It has been a year of courage and trust and grit. And more courage is needed.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Most importantly

I have been a Primary teacher for the past few years. I like it a lot because it gives me a chance to know kids in the ward that otherwise would be strangers to me. And, I am learning all sorts of lessons about love and patience and what it might be like to teach my own children gospel principles. Last week during the final meeting, we had a mini-lesson that gave every person in the room a chance to stand up and "fill in the blanks" of the following phrases. It was beautiful, and I decided that I would use it to frame tonight's blog post. My name is __________________.  I [like to] __________________, but most importantly I am a child of God.  I like the idea of it, this one simple [and enormous] thing that everyone could testify of. Tender. My name is Krystle. I like to wash dishes and organize things, but most importantly I am a child of God. My name is Krystle. I make mistakes more often than I would like, but most importantly I am a child of God . My

Littles

Today, June 29, is the year mark from the day I became a mom. My entire life has been a series of tender mercies. I am still convinced that I was given my scholarship to Westminster simply because Heavenly Father knew that as a teenager, my tendency was to give up if things were too hard, and He knew I needed to be a teacher. When I moved to Nephi, I was given a great job simply because the Lord knew that I needed to be HOME in order to sort out the mess I was making of my life. It worked. Shortly after falling in love with Blaine, I became his Mrs. without hesitation. Our relationship is now and always has been EASY. We knew that we could build a happy life, that we could build a beautiful forever and so we did. We are. We found an incredible home with room to grow. Purchased at auction, we marveled at the home and tried to think of how we could possibly fill five bedrooms. A tender mercy. In February of last year, my sister called and talked to me about a possible

Valentine's day, kind of

Today is Valentine’s day, kind of. As I began to get ready this morning, I was struck with a feeling of familiarity, a bitter-sweetness that was striking and unshakable. I have celebrated Valentine’s day as a single woman. There is a loneliness that latches on, a cloud of something missing that looms over the day. On that day, above others, a single person FEELS single. And those feelings can go a few ways: a) Bitterness at those who have someone to share the day with OR b) Hope that next year might be different On every single Valentine’s day, I would always take special care to get ready: do my hair, carefully apply makeup, choose a strategic outfit, all because I wanted to look like someone who could be loved, to look like someone who believed her life could change. And one day, it did. Now, as a married woman, hoping, praying, and waiting to adopt a child, it’s Valentine’s day all over again. I got ready this morning and looked in the mirror, hoping