This is a neat four-minute tour through our home, Japan, and well worth a watch. Maybe it will encourage you to come to Japan, too!
Over the last couple of years I’ve started to get involved in #IBEN, the IB Educators’ Network, as part of the Middle Years Programme authorisation and evaluation process. After initial training as a School Visiting Team Member (SVTM), I was out on a visit as a team member for a synchronised visit (PYP, MYP, DP, CIS & NEASC). More recently I have been team leader (SVTL) for the MYP section of another synchronised visit, and have completed consultancy training, to be part of a process that supports candidate MYP schools in their journey towards authorisation. This has all been phenomenal PD – learning through authentic inquiry that can only help me in my programme leadership role at school.
So… here are seven reasons you should join #IBEN
1. It’s a community
There are lots of venues to meet others in the same role – workshops, conferences, online – but this is one that has a special focus: to help the IB community grow around you. Someone has done it for your school, you can do it for others. Along the way, we realise that the community is human, that “the IB” is not a faceless auditor and that we can share the responsibility of bringing the IB’s mission to fruition in the region.
2. Bringing the Standards & Practices to life.
No really, wait, stop giggling.
The S&P’s are our quality-control guidance as a school, yet we probably don’t learn about them or engage with them as often as we could. Being in a room with a team of people picking through them and thinking about how they look and how they can be interpreted is powerful learning – and immediately applicable in your own context.
3. Being right up to date.
Training for these roles is delivered by the experts, with an oversight of all the most relevant challenges and updates. It’s a great opportunity to clear up misconceptions and to make sure your own approach is on point. Are we using the right guidance? Is our approach in line with the expectations? How have other schools taken on this challenge?
4. It’s a privilege
The Standards & Practices set the direction of a school and the feedback from readers, consultants and site visitors helps keep the school on course. To be able to do this effectively, we are given access to a lot of information about a school. There is a lot of trust and respect in the process. We all learn and we all work with the best intentions in mind: to give our students the best international education they could have.
5. Time to focus.
How often do you really get to focus on one job for your role? Being away for a few days, with a singular role, can be as energising as it is engaging and exhausting. Even the time in the airport can be time to clear some of your to-do list. IB visits are usually no more than three days, so they’re not going to set you too far behind (some other agencies are there a week).
6. It’s free.
If you’re invited for training or to go on a visit, it doesn’t cost you anything but time, so on the learning-per-dollar scale, it’s pretty high-impact for your school. Better still, you get a little honorarium. It won’t make you rich, but it will offset the guilt-gifts you buy your family in the airport on the way home.
7. It works for your school.
It is impossible to separate your learning about the process (or during a visit) from your own context. Are we doing this right? Would this work in my school? Hey, that’s a neat idea…
By taking a careful, analytical approach to the S&P’s, we are becoming more competent as coordinators. By finding out about a school from its many stakeholders we can be inspired to be better pedagogical leaders in our own contexts.
So get involved! Find out more here. I’m not a workshop leader, but I hear those guys have a blast, too.
I included this short clip, built on a short piece of a talk by philosopher Alan Watts, in my #GAFESummit session, Ready, Steady, Flow. There was some quiet contemplation (expected) and some tears (unexpected).
It had been doing the rounds on Twitter, and I felt it captured some of my feelings about education and the anxiety we can face as we “get them ready for XYZ.” It becomes all too easy to suck the joy out of learning, to focus on the grades, to get caught on the treadmill. We risk losing our creativity and spark in the process.
At the same time, we hear so much about ‘shift happens‘ and educating students for the future, for ‘jobs that don’t exist yet’ and trying to play crystal-balls about what knowledge and skills the big innovators want in their workforce. We can’t do that; we’re probably wasting our time if we try. But we can educate the kids we have now, with the knowledge we have now, the tools and research that we have now so that they’ll become “better” people now… and for the future.
What if, by making all of us love learning now, we can make our students balanced, motivated inquirers ready for what the future throws at them?
There’s a name for that job.
As a parent I watch it and worry – am I making the most of my own kids’ childhoods? Am I helping make memories that they will love? Am I living in the ‘now’ with them? Do I have the right career-life balance?
I’ve seen this video many times. Each time it gets me.
We’ve wrecked the world.
Inequality, environmental destruction, outbreaks of disease, terrorism and economic collapse. We are (we think) aware of the problems we face – perhaps too aware – and the message can be one of hopelessness. Do we risk passing on global ignorance to our students – a connected, compassionate generation who are plugged into a media-rich stream of (mis)information? As we try to bring global issues into the classroom, there is a danger that we promote a message that all is lost; a message reinforced by media reporting on the same issues and clouded by prejudices and emotion.
We can fix it.
We can choose to educate for hope. The solutions to many of problems are out there, or on the cusp of being realised – the technological age is well established and we are reaping the rewards. Now it’s time to recognise the importance of the psychological age. George Monbiot writes that if we terrify people, they will focus on saving themselves, not others; a feeling of hopelessness that accompanies awareness of global issues is unhelpful. Yet if the focus is on the concrete and the hopeful – the actions that we can take to make a difference – then we might affect a more positive outcome.
I would love to see an international school curriculum that produces graduates who are globally literate (as in Hans Rosling’s Ignorance Project) and who are hopeful, compassionate and active ‘fixers of the future‘. With the IB Programmes we have the framework – the ‘heavy lifting’ of the elements of an excellent education has been done for us. As schools we can choose to use that framework to build an inspirational experience.
We can start with simple actions
- Design units that connect to Global Contexts in authentic ways.
- Evaluate our own understandings of the global issues we’re addressing before we teach them.
- Use student research and examples to highlight both the reality of of the situation and the actions that can (and are) being taken to make a positive difference.
- Discuss how these actions and our knowledge can be connected to meaningful action.
We want to create a realistic hope – not ignorance, boredom or hopelessness. We can do it.
- George Monbiot: Saving the world should be based on promise, not fear.
- Business Insider: Teens are more compassionate after the recession
- Common Cause for Nature: Inspiring positive change in sustainability education
- Me: How NOT to be ignorant about the world. Should a fact-based world view be the core of an international curriculum?
This is an edited version of a post from last year.
“You teachers have it easy.”
“I wish I could muck about with kids all day.”
“Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.”
“I should get into teaching; I could really use the holidays.”
“All you have to do is tell kids the same easy stuff every year. I could do that.”
It must be that time of year again…
Cue relief from face-booking teacher friends and ‘funny’ comments from non-teaching others. They used to bug me, but not any more; we have a lot to be thankful for.
Life, as teaching, is all about choices.
If anyone asked me if I would recommend teaching as a career, I would tell them without a doubt, certainly, yes – but only if they’re prepared to give it their all. This is doubly true if they have the opportunity or take the chance to go to a good international school. We work hard but we are well compensated – in fulfillment above all else.
Although I might do routine sixty-hour weeks in term time (the equivalent of fifty-seven 40-hour weeks), we get to spend time together as a family, traveling and learning together. We live, work and go to school together, and I’m home for bedtime every night. We have friends from all over the world and a global world view. We speak two languages in the house and the kids are learning Japanese. We could more money in a different career, for sure, but we can save a little and travel a lot.
And those holidays: we are officially working for about 38 weeks a year. The holidays are time to adventure, think, recharge and study; to bond, have fun and be a family. It’s time to reconnect with the family we leave behind to go overseas. I know teachers who are able to completely disconnect from work in the breaks though most, like me, choose to work, study, learn or write for a good part of that time. Whatever we do, we come back better able to educate our students.
But holidays are not the sole reason to become a teacher.
Education is not something you can stick at if you have just fallen into it for lack of a better job prospect. It’s a vocation, a devotion and an inspiration. I am inspired by my students and the teachers that inspire them; the colleagues that do great things and those that want to do even greater things. There is energy in what we do – we are not stuck in a cubicle, repeating the same task day after endless day. I am inspired by mission and values, by international mindedness and thinking about global problems. I am inspired by the fact that so many people who have put good into the world can trace their inspiration back to a teacher or a mentor. I am inspired every single day about science in the world and think that yes, one day, one of my students will make a real difference.
It’s not always perfect; some times are tougher than others, especially when the work piles up and bottlenecks. But we do well and we need to keep perspective. This is particularly important for overseas teachers. I greatly admire, respect and am humbled by the teachers back home who to try to do all this and more: contending with decision after decision coming from the top down; with behavioural and funding problems, large classes, long commutes and excessive, often unrealistic, demands. They most certainly do not have it easy, and they deserve far more recognition and respect than they are given, especially in the UK.
So how will we respond when someone says we have it easy as educators?
“We’re happy with the choices we’ve made.”
As the jumble of words in my head steadfastly refuse to flock together into a narrative on an assignment, I am finding it helpful to get back to the books, to sort the quotes again and think about the story they are telling.
It also reminds me of the challenges our learners face when they can’t articulate their thoughts in our ‘target language’ and the importance of us providing support and opportunities for them to create conceptual understandings even in spite of linguistic limitations.
I forgot the word I wanted to say,
And thought, unembodied,
Returns to the hall of shadows.
This is printed and on my door now.
Hopefully soon enough the thoughts will flock, forming something coherent and perhaps as beautiful as this murmuration of starlings.
As I struggle through writer’s block (after a very intense couple of months of work and more), trying to organise and finish off this ULL assignment, I find myself pulled back into the literature, thinking about the quotes of educationalists past and present. Recent reading about Dewey and Vygostky has been stimulating, as I realise that we, educationalists, have been having these same conversations for a hundred years or more*.
This is quote from Dewey (1938’s Experience and Education (pdf)) makes me think a lot about the essence of my argument about MYP: Mind the Gap. Are we creating learners for the future, giving them a “moving force” of an educational experience, or are we limiting education to preparation for external exams? I like to think we’re getting the best of both worlds.