Action Research Project

Final Reflection

When I started my journey with the High Tech High Graduate School of Education, I had been ignorant to the types of “traditional” teaching practices that were occurring in my classroom. What I thought were promising practices, were indeed the same mundane experiences I had as a child, they were just packaged differently, with a fancy name and an expensive price tag. High Tech High’s progressive movement was a new concept to me; it painted a picture about education that I had no idea could be possible. The pure exposure of attending a graduate school embedded in a K-12 environment, allowed me to build a new expectation for teaching and learning. The products that are created by the students of HTH are absolutely amazing. Walking the halls of each school will give you a feeling of being surrounded by museum quality artifacts. Often I would have to remind myself, that these products were created by students, students who were part of an expectation and culture that allowed them to produce such beauty. It is reflective moments like these, where a flame and drive ignites in my heart, that push me to ask myself, “Why can’t my students experience this? Why aren’t I giving them the support to create beautiful products? What am I waiting for? Why not today?”

A year and a half ago, I asked myself those same questions, and it was during that time where I had decided to change, to fight, to stand up for my students rights to receive a better education than what I was providing them at that moment. I dove in, head first, right into the awesome craziness of Project Based Learning. Drowning as a neophyte, I slapped my arms around looking for support, and instead of receiving one helping hand; I had seventeen life-preservers thrown my way. The colleagues that I have worked with through my graduate program, had not only served as critical friends, but they were also my lifeguards. Teaching in a “traditional” environment can get tricky, especially when you purposely plan to break the rules. But every now and then, the poison could pull you under the water, and it is during those times, that this program, and especially this cohort, pulls you out, and rejuvenates your spirit.

So throughout the first year of our graduate program, I acted, every Wednesday class, like a kid in a candy store. With my bag wide open, I was throwing every idea and new concept right in, sometimes asking, sometimes borrowing, and often times, stealing amazing ideas, from phenomenal teachers. Everything I had experienced in our courses, I brought into my classroom. My transformation had started, and my students’ new journey had begun. In trying to bring PBL into our routine, I had noticed that my students struggled with sharing their learning with an audience. It didn’t matter if it was with a partner, or if it was with our community during an exhibition, when it came time to sharing, my students were not all confident nor were they all comfortable. The birth of my research inquiry had found its home, and throughout this past year, I had made it my mission to create an environment, based on student voices, that was conducive for building confidence and raising the comfort levels of my students’ ability to share their learning. But what I learned, was that even though my research question was focused on our classroom and our environment, it had really become about our classroom culture, and how I was creating, for my students, a new vision of learning and producing.

Ron Berger (2003) believes that building “strong school communities means fighting the social trend of bigger everything, the trend of super-stores and massive shopping malls,” and that in building a community, teachers are able to “strengthen the character of students to make them more thoughtful, polite, honest, and courageous individuals.” Through the course of this study, I maintained my role as a researcher and examined, experimented, and analyzed data, all the while focusing on the support systems I was trying to put in place. Along my journey, an inundation of “super-store” assessments pushed its way through our barricades and suffocated our time to produce beautiful work. Fighting against our “traditional” system became exhausting, and at times I felt like I had lost, and that all I could do was ask my students to do their best, test, after test, after test. But throughout this time, we continued our work, and it wasn’t until after the half way point of the year, where I realized that my study had evolved. It was no longer about supporting academic discourse, the focus shifted to a new culture that was developing around us. Regardless of receiving the worst testing regiment in my history with Finney, my students persevered, pushed themselves to their absolute limits, and created for themselves a new sense of school and learning. We had become a family, a family of reflective thinkers and active learners.

I had been so focused on my students, their environment, and the supports that I was providing, that I had never once stopped to reflect about how I was growing as an educator and a person. There are many areas that I have made progress with, in particular, I have learned that too much complaining gets you no where; it is much easier to roll up your sleeves and get right to work. In large part this year, I had battled with pacing out the ridiculous amount of testing my students had to endure, and I would often find myself in conversation with other colleagues or our principal about the negative effects from over testing. Feeling like I was in a stagnant mud puddle, I had decided to pick myself up, close my doors, and focus on working with my students.

Another aspect I learned about myself, was that I was nowhere close to teaching at my full potential. I used to think that feeling like that was not good, but now, those thoughts keep me hungry, forcing me to push myself beyond my capabilities. There is so much more to learn, so many more authentic practices to put into place. It was important to understand where I was, where I was going, and what were the goals that I wanted to accomplished.

Most importantly this year, my students have taught me that they are capable of producing beautiful work, worthy of finding a spot along the hallways of High Tech High. I have never doubted their abilities; I just hadn’t given them a chance to show me what they could do. Throughout our entire Blurb Book Project, I was completely amazed at the sophistication in which my students treated their own work and each others work. I had witnessed my students selflessly help each other through countless critique sessions. Their new found openness and willingness to share their work, their learning, and their expertise with each other left me speechless. Their discovery of writing to an authentic audience created a drive within, that turned them into craftsmen that were prideful of their work. After we finalized each page, and sent it in for Blurb to produce, my students were filled with excitement, counting down the days for delivery. When that day arrived, I found a quiet place in the office, and unpackaged their books, and as I flipped through the pages, admiring the beautiful work, their message had been stamped in my heart: Give your students an opportunity to show you how great they are, you will be amazed by the talents and beauty that will be created.