Slowing down is tough because we aren’t teaching leisurely six-week reading seminars, we are teaching how to read at all….
slowing down is hard because the mind can’t contend with the fact that our students are way, way, way behind in some very basic skills in addition to the skills related to “our responsibility”…
slowing down is hard because despite the hours we put in (take a look at the instructional minutes each year, maybe not in your district, but in a lot of districts in CA, CO, NM, the ones I know of) kids have a lot of time off so teachers “can plan”…
slowing down is only possible in our own lives…
The other day, the students and I (one section only) stepped outside and made a circle and sat down (lunch B was happening elsewhere nearby, so it wasn’t quiet like I had wished) on crunchy fall leaves and we did slow down… and we discussed the chapter… “who cares for those who don’t have parents who care for them?” (asked by a student) in relation to a character in a very middle grade novel. This led to a discussion on what is and isn’t a society’s responsibility.
Yes, amazing things happen when we slow down.
Slowing down is hard because that question is not on a state test.
it’s not as frustrating when we realize that the way schools are designed isn’t for learning, because if they were we wouldn’t pretend passing and pushing kids forward who can’t read is “school.”
This is remarkable and heartbreaking: “who cares for those who don’t have parents who care for them?”
Love, love, love this entire reflection, how there is hope subtly offered within it while naming the real obstacles (a much better balance than I offered in my own post!); and as always appreciate your thoughts and sharings! Happy Thanksgiving to you, too :)
Wow! What an incredible teacher-student moment! I love those conversations that are sparked by literature. I'm happy that you took this time to connect with your student.
I think you've just summed up how so many teachers feel. We know we should slow down but it just seems impossible to do. It is no wonder many teachers are suffering from burnout. Plus, I think it is just as important for the children to slow down too - racing through content doesn't lead to good learning and a crammed timetable won't help their mental health.
I had an interesting conversation with a former colleague who has since left the classroom to do educational consulting. We were chatting about how many years I have left before retirement, and whether I could make it. She said, "Teaching isn't a 30-year career anymore." I've sat with this statement since, wondering if teaching was ever sustainable, and how can help create a system that doesn't burn teachers out. The grind of crammed timetables and curriculum maps is definitely not good for our collective mental health, and it doesn't even lead to good teaching!
100% this! I think it's just expected that teachers work at 100mph. There's so much to pack into every day, I think it truly is impossible to slow down. Unless something fundamental changes, like the content in the national curriculum or removal of KS1 and KS2 SATs etc.
Slowing down is incredibly challenging for me, both personally and professionally. One way I bend time at school is doing my best to reject the elementary time schedule for lessons. I intentionally make time for student discussion and reflection, even when we "go over time."
Every afternoon, after recess, I meditate with my students. We spend 3-5 minutes being still and focusing on our breath. Some read quietly, many color, and a few actually close their eyes and breathe with me (especially when I bribe them with candy!). I find that this slowing down, although putting me behind my colleagues and our curriculum maps, allows us to reclaim some of the grind culture so present in public education.
I know that I don't "cover" all of the content; that is an intentional choice I am making in service to creating a more humane classroom experience. Still, even with me bending time for my students, I feel like I am running on a hamster wheel all day long. The endless meetings, and bites of time for planning and lunch, makes me feel exhausted, which I know affects my ability to be fully present with my students. Even with reclaiming some of my classroom time, the system puts impossible pressures on my professional time.
This chapter hit me at the perfect time. I loved the Tricia Hersey quotes - especially this one, “We cannot afford to wait for the powers that be to create space for us to have moments of deep rest and care. If we wait, we will forever be caught up in the daily grind” (p. 136). Though I recognize slowing down can feel impossible, I think there are spaces - even sometimes small moments - where I can lean more into slowing down. Even if it’s literally just taking 3 slow & deep breaths before the start of the school day and the end of the school day, that’s at least a shift in the right direction. Or not putting off a doctor’s appointment because I feel guilty about asking for the school to get a sub. I think if I lean a little more in that direction, it’ll help me to contribute more of what I want to see in the world - and what I want modeled for students - even just a little bit.
Other things I found interesting in this chapter:
-Learning about “crip time” was new and also super interesting to me. It gave me a new perspective on how I view/judge people being on time (I found the
-I relate so much to needing processing time after a big announcement is made! Definitely relate to “staircase questions” - this happens to me all the time and I love the suggestion of giving a big announcement in 2 parts
-allowing people time to grieve when a big structural change occurs. Not totally sure what this looks like, but I think even just acknowledging that people may be grieving a big change is valuable.
-taking the time (even just a few minutes) at the start of a meeting to revisit the shared vision
Lots to think about once again! So grateful for this space 🙌
This chapter definitely was incredibly generous in sharing perspectives I wouldn't have considered without reading it, and I think the "grieving" chapter was both imaginative and hopeful in reconsidering what "slowing down" can look like in that process.
So much in your comments that have me thinking, too—I appreciate your share here, and how you consider the big and also the small in what your reflection looks like! 🙏
I resonate with so much of your reflection! The system will always take and take and take. Unless we reclaim our time, public education is designed to wear down teachers and spit them out. How can we push back so that we can feel more human while teaching? I think about this often.
Yes, to all of this. This chapter was the perfect reminder for me, to give time, to allow people to process, to make sure I am not the one dropping the new thing without any thinking time. And also, to remember that when we say kids are “behind”…what does that mean? Behind what? Behind a line we have set that is unrealistic and in working towards that line we actually make it worse? Behind an arbitrary place where we have decided every unique human needs to get to at the same time? In saying this I am not minimizing the very real academic challenges that students face, but when we think about five minutes….5….the time of (perhaps less than) one more math practice problem. Is it not possible that that 5 minutes would be better spent sitting and slowing down? What is that 5 minutes going to get them that the prior 40 did not? But, it is possible, that 5 minutes of sitting and reflecting actually helps more? And same for me, with the to do list I have. Maybe stopping and sitting on my front porch to look at the trees is actually a better option. And guess what? When I do? The work becomes easier, more effective, more meaningful. And when I think about change and growth in schools, why does it all need to happen at once? Note to self.
I acknowledge that I am the outlier here. I left a position teaching standardised curricula so I could design my own programmes, promising myself to never teach in such a system again. I was tired all the time, there was never enough time to enjoy learning, nor to do it effectively. Both teaching and learning requires a certain amount of grace.
I still teach in the core curriculum but the design of the courses are mine. I give myself the time I need to do the work, and all work happens in the classroom (no homework!). The relief was instant, and both me and my students fell in love with the process of learning again. Such a simple fix, so hard to implement.
Having taught both ways, I can't express how important it is to slow down. Learning is a digestive process; force-feeding learners causes them to reject the process because there is simply no appetite. It's painful to consume food or information when there is no appetite. If we want to nurture our students into life-long learners, and excite curiosity, then we need to allow time to serve the process.
I relate to this so hard. Even after leaving the classroom, it's like my adrenal glands don't know they can stop pumping so hard. I fill every second of the day and I STILL HOLD MY PEE. What is that about?!?!
I've talked with some other former teachers who've talked about how the pace and always-busy mindset of teaching is a maladaptive coping strategy that follows us out of the classroom, almost in a PTSD way: the original stressor is gone, but we're still living as though we're under threat.
Currently reading Rest Is Resistance, which I highly recommend. Thanks for this post!
Slowing down is tough because we aren’t teaching leisurely six-week reading seminars, we are teaching how to read at all….
slowing down is hard because the mind can’t contend with the fact that our students are way, way, way behind in some very basic skills in addition to the skills related to “our responsibility”…
slowing down is hard because despite the hours we put in (take a look at the instructional minutes each year, maybe not in your district, but in a lot of districts in CA, CO, NM, the ones I know of) kids have a lot of time off so teachers “can plan”…
slowing down is only possible in our own lives…
The other day, the students and I (one section only) stepped outside and made a circle and sat down (lunch B was happening elsewhere nearby, so it wasn’t quiet like I had wished) on crunchy fall leaves and we did slow down… and we discussed the chapter… “who cares for those who don’t have parents who care for them?” (asked by a student) in relation to a character in a very middle grade novel. This led to a discussion on what is and isn’t a society’s responsibility.
Yes, amazing things happen when we slow down.
Slowing down is hard because that question is not on a state test.
it’s not as frustrating when we realize that the way schools are designed isn’t for learning, because if they were we wouldn’t pretend passing and pushing kids forward who can’t read is “school.”
Wishing you a restful Thanksgiving!
This is remarkable and heartbreaking: “who cares for those who don’t have parents who care for them?”
Love, love, love this entire reflection, how there is hope subtly offered within it while naming the real obstacles (a much better balance than I offered in my own post!); and as always appreciate your thoughts and sharings! Happy Thanksgiving to you, too :)
Wow! What an incredible teacher-student moment! I love those conversations that are sparked by literature. I'm happy that you took this time to connect with your student.
I think you've just summed up how so many teachers feel. We know we should slow down but it just seems impossible to do. It is no wonder many teachers are suffering from burnout. Plus, I think it is just as important for the children to slow down too - racing through content doesn't lead to good learning and a crammed timetable won't help their mental health.
I just wish I knew what the answer was.
(Let me know if you find out!)
I had an interesting conversation with a former colleague who has since left the classroom to do educational consulting. We were chatting about how many years I have left before retirement, and whether I could make it. She said, "Teaching isn't a 30-year career anymore." I've sat with this statement since, wondering if teaching was ever sustainable, and how can help create a system that doesn't burn teachers out. The grind of crammed timetables and curriculum maps is definitely not good for our collective mental health, and it doesn't even lead to good teaching!
100% this! I think it's just expected that teachers work at 100mph. There's so much to pack into every day, I think it truly is impossible to slow down. Unless something fundamental changes, like the content in the national curriculum or removal of KS1 and KS2 SATs etc.
Slowing down is incredibly challenging for me, both personally and professionally. One way I bend time at school is doing my best to reject the elementary time schedule for lessons. I intentionally make time for student discussion and reflection, even when we "go over time."
Every afternoon, after recess, I meditate with my students. We spend 3-5 minutes being still and focusing on our breath. Some read quietly, many color, and a few actually close their eyes and breathe with me (especially when I bribe them with candy!). I find that this slowing down, although putting me behind my colleagues and our curriculum maps, allows us to reclaim some of the grind culture so present in public education.
I know that I don't "cover" all of the content; that is an intentional choice I am making in service to creating a more humane classroom experience. Still, even with me bending time for my students, I feel like I am running on a hamster wheel all day long. The endless meetings, and bites of time for planning and lunch, makes me feel exhausted, which I know affects my ability to be fully present with my students. Even with reclaiming some of my classroom time, the system puts impossible pressures on my professional time.
This chapter hit me at the perfect time. I loved the Tricia Hersey quotes - especially this one, “We cannot afford to wait for the powers that be to create space for us to have moments of deep rest and care. If we wait, we will forever be caught up in the daily grind” (p. 136). Though I recognize slowing down can feel impossible, I think there are spaces - even sometimes small moments - where I can lean more into slowing down. Even if it’s literally just taking 3 slow & deep breaths before the start of the school day and the end of the school day, that’s at least a shift in the right direction. Or not putting off a doctor’s appointment because I feel guilty about asking for the school to get a sub. I think if I lean a little more in that direction, it’ll help me to contribute more of what I want to see in the world - and what I want modeled for students - even just a little bit.
Other things I found interesting in this chapter:
-Learning about “crip time” was new and also super interesting to me. It gave me a new perspective on how I view/judge people being on time (I found the
-I relate so much to needing processing time after a big announcement is made! Definitely relate to “staircase questions” - this happens to me all the time and I love the suggestion of giving a big announcement in 2 parts
-allowing people time to grieve when a big structural change occurs. Not totally sure what this looks like, but I think even just acknowledging that people may be grieving a big change is valuable.
-taking the time (even just a few minutes) at the start of a meeting to revisit the shared vision
Lots to think about once again! So grateful for this space 🙌
This chapter definitely was incredibly generous in sharing perspectives I wouldn't have considered without reading it, and I think the "grieving" chapter was both imaginative and hopeful in reconsidering what "slowing down" can look like in that process.
So much in your comments that have me thinking, too—I appreciate your share here, and how you consider the big and also the small in what your reflection looks like! 🙏
I resonate with so much of your reflection! The system will always take and take and take. Unless we reclaim our time, public education is designed to wear down teachers and spit them out. How can we push back so that we can feel more human while teaching? I think about this often.
Yes, to all of this. This chapter was the perfect reminder for me, to give time, to allow people to process, to make sure I am not the one dropping the new thing without any thinking time. And also, to remember that when we say kids are “behind”…what does that mean? Behind what? Behind a line we have set that is unrealistic and in working towards that line we actually make it worse? Behind an arbitrary place where we have decided every unique human needs to get to at the same time? In saying this I am not minimizing the very real academic challenges that students face, but when we think about five minutes….5….the time of (perhaps less than) one more math practice problem. Is it not possible that that 5 minutes would be better spent sitting and slowing down? What is that 5 minutes going to get them that the prior 40 did not? But, it is possible, that 5 minutes of sitting and reflecting actually helps more? And same for me, with the to do list I have. Maybe stopping and sitting on my front porch to look at the trees is actually a better option. And guess what? When I do? The work becomes easier, more effective, more meaningful. And when I think about change and growth in schools, why does it all need to happen at once? Note to self.
I acknowledge that I am the outlier here. I left a position teaching standardised curricula so I could design my own programmes, promising myself to never teach in such a system again. I was tired all the time, there was never enough time to enjoy learning, nor to do it effectively. Both teaching and learning requires a certain amount of grace.
I still teach in the core curriculum but the design of the courses are mine. I give myself the time I need to do the work, and all work happens in the classroom (no homework!). The relief was instant, and both me and my students fell in love with the process of learning again. Such a simple fix, so hard to implement.
Having taught both ways, I can't express how important it is to slow down. Learning is a digestive process; force-feeding learners causes them to reject the process because there is simply no appetite. It's painful to consume food or information when there is no appetite. If we want to nurture our students into life-long learners, and excite curiosity, then we need to allow time to serve the process.
I relate to this so hard. Even after leaving the classroom, it's like my adrenal glands don't know they can stop pumping so hard. I fill every second of the day and I STILL HOLD MY PEE. What is that about?!?!
I've talked with some other former teachers who've talked about how the pace and always-busy mindset of teaching is a maladaptive coping strategy that follows us out of the classroom, almost in a PTSD way: the original stressor is gone, but we're still living as though we're under threat.
Currently reading Rest Is Resistance, which I highly recommend. Thanks for this post!