Social Justice Warriors: Behind the Scenes

Maybe you've heard of us -- The Heart of Texas Writing Project. Perhaps you've heard that we work to create classroom spaces where kids can follow their own agendas as writers, paying attention to their own ideas rather than following the prompts of a teacher.

Maybe you've heard us speak about the importance of writing instruction in creating a more democratic society. Perhaps you've seen us present about helping young writers consider their words as a way to protest inequity and injustice -- whether it's a blog post about the rights of undocumented students, or a letter to a principal about the unfairness of silent lunches.

If you've been to one of our sessions, you've most certainly heard us talk about the importance of seeing asset in all students, recognizing the strength and brilliance every single child brings to a classroom.

If you're reading this, you've probably met some members of our grassroots collective. I bet they'e gushed about their awesome kiddos and the amazing words students have put to paper. Probably these teachers pulled out their phones and showed you the latest publication event they hosted, where every student shined.

But here's what you may not know. And it's way overdue that I share this.

In addition to all the work I outlined above, so many teachers in HTWP work for a better world OUTSIDE their classrooms too. They dedicate countless hours volunteering to keep our collective alive. To keep this sort of teaching alive. I won't name folks specifically, as there are too many. But if you're reading this, you know who you are. I'm talking about you, social justice warrior. This is you.

We are grateful. I AM GRATEFUL.

So, thank you:

*To the teachers who show up every single Saturday workshop, no matter what...pulling themselves out of bed to be part of these conversations.

*To the teachers who volunteer to help with the registration desk on these Saturdays, taking money and checks and greeting everyone with a warm hello.

*To the teachers who field emails and phone calls, helping us figure out next steps for a professional development day or a training.

*To the teachers who email their friends, telling them about our next big event.

*To the teachers who advocate with administration, lining up more work for us or creating space for new instruction in districts and schools.

*To the teachers who coach newbies as they take on this big work, sharing their expertise with generosity and kindness.

*To the teachers who gather purchase orders from their schools, so their friends can attend workshops without having to pay out of pocket.

*To the teachers who give up time over the summer, offering to help with our Institute.

*To the teachers who give up time over the summer, offering to work as leaders as we plan our next year.

*To the teachers who give up money to hire sitters, so they can attend a Saturday or pay a visit to our Summer Institute.

*To the teachers who spend time away from partners or spouses whenever they volunteer extra hours with HTWP.

*To the teachers who dedicate hours planning a presentation for a Saturday, and then show up and kick ass with so much great stuff.  (Sometimes these folks haul boxes and books from their car in the Brazos garage to the Sanchez Building. It's not close.)

*To the teachers who volunteer their classrooms for researchers, so our work can be part of critical conversations in the field of education.

*To the teachers who form study groups, dedicating nights and weekends to learn more about their craft.

*To the teachers who offer their classrooms for model lessons, so we can videotape new stuff to share with others.

*To the teachers who hound kids after those lessons, trying to gather permission forms so we can use the video with others.

*To the teachers who form writing groups, knowing that teachers of writing must write.

*To the teachers who fill up those Amazon carts with beautiful new books, spending their own money to buy texts that reflect all the beautiful cultures and languages in our rooms.

*To the teachers who know we can't just shut our doors and do this work alone. That for real change to happen, we need a community.

And so they keep doing all of this. Every day. Every year. All the time. No matter what. Por vida.

If you see one of these teachers, tell them you see their work -- their social justice work. Tell them it matters.

And tell them thank you.

I'm writing this on my couch. My favorite tea cup sits next to me, shoes are off, and phone is far far away. This is my normal perch as a writer -- one that I know works, gets stuff bubbling in my brain. The tea is pretty important. I have a particular brand I like (PG Tips with a splash of milk), and I have special cups that only I use in the house (flowery mugs from Anthropologie).

If I were in my notebook, I'd be using this cool dotted one I found at Michael's, and these pens are my absolute faves. (If you borrow one from me, I will absolutely ask for it back.)

These are the things I need around me to write. 

Well, need is probably the wrong word. These are the things I LOVE to have around me when I write.  Sometimes I have to suck it up and write while waiting in the car, or in the doctor's office, or even during my son's guitar lessons.  All writers know how to capitalize on found moments.

But I know my preferred spot is at home, with this stuff.

Last week I wrote about classroom spaces, and I quoted Toni Morrison. Morrison talked often about the power of our writing spaces, asking herself this important question, "What do I need in order to release my imagination?" 

I know I've wrestled with this question as a writer. But I also think it's an important question to ask our students, too. 

It's not a common question in schools, however -- asking kids to think deliberately about their work places. I mean, most of the time kids are asked to just settle down and get to work. The system often seeks pure compliance. So when I've done lessons asking kids to consider their writing spaces and tools, I've found that sometimes I have to convince them a little bit -- get them warmed up to this line of thinking.

Lately I've been showing kids some pictures of famous artists' and writers' workspaces, to help make my case. This summer my son and I were fortunate enough to visit Casa Azul -- the house where Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera did so much beautiful and important work.

Look at their studio space. It's flippin' gorgeous, not to mention purposeful. 

The windows with the particular light. The organized tools. The easels that leave space for Frida's wheelchair. I've found kids are really inspired by what Frida and Diego made in their own home, and it starts us on a great conversation. I ask the students: "What do you need to have around you to do great work in this room? Think about it. What do you need?"

I did this lesson a month ago in a 5th grade dual language classroom, and the kids really ran with it. Look at this young writer's beautiful desk! I think Frida would absolutely approve. 

Sometimes when I talk to kids about their spaces and tools, I mention the rituals I've seen athletes use. Michael Phelps is a great example. He is so particular about his space and his tools before he swims in a meet. He has his hoodie up, ear buds in, and from what I can tell, he refuses to make eye contact with anyone. He just looks down, walks to his bench, sits there till it's time to move, looking down still. Once he's on the starting block, he shakes his arms, looks down, and waits for the gun. It's all very purposeful and super intense.  I'd love to know what songs he's got playing in his ear buds!

There's a really important belief system underneath these conversations with kids. When we ask kids to be purposeful and deliberate about their writing tools, their writing places and their writing habits, we are inviting them to take up a fierce writing identity. We are asking them to consider themselves as makers, as creators --just like Frida and Diego. Like Toni.

We are asking them to be picky about their work, about their lives in school. We are asking them to want more than a broken nubby pencil they found in the hallway a few minutes before. 

I think that's something to teach. 

Classroom Spaces: Beautiful Opportunities

This week I had a chance to visit the classroom of my friend Nick Pippins. Nick is a HTWP alumni, and he works at a private Montessori school here in Austin. His classroom left me speechless! Gorgeous rugs. Framed art prints. Fossils and bones on display against wooden shelves. So many plants! Look!

Nick's classroom may seem like a dream for many of us, but I was inspired. The folks at Nick's school have clearly invested a lot of money and time into making school spaces gorgeous. I know many of us in public school also care deeply about making our classrooms beautiful and inviting, even with limited funds and resources. After all, doesn't a pleasing classroom space honor the important work students do? Doesn't an attractive space send a powerful message? 

I thought about this a lot when I taught reading at Akins HS and Travis HS. Kids came in feeling like reading was a punishment class. I wanted the room to feel special -- the coolest spot in the building. Here are some pics from my classroom at Akins. I still think about that space.

None of it was break-the-bank expensive -- a few dollars for colored chalk from Michael's, some thrift store furniture, bookshelves from the City of Austin's office furniture surplus spot on Bolm Road. African violets propagate easily and bloomed readily near my window. Once I bought some of those suction-cup sponge holders you can get at Target and converted them into bird feeders, stuck to the outside of the windows. Kids often gasped in wonder when a tiny bird stopped to eat. Those moments were magical... inspiring our minds further while we read, wrote, thought. As the year went on, the walls grew cozier with so much kid work -- drawings, charts, sticky notes, stories. We built the room together. 

 My friend Tracy Spruce has turned her classroom into a gorgeous, bohemian literacy salon. I know Tracy thrifts like I do, so I'm certain a lot of this came from scavenging Houston's best second-hand shops. Some of these pics are from this year; some are from her previous school in Houston. 

Tracy even has an old record player in her room, and kids can put on Miles Davis or John Coltrane or Charles Mingus for inspiring work music. Pretty sure they take turns as DJ each week. Who wouldn't want to be in this classroom? How could anyone turn down the invitation to read or write when the digs are this cool?

In an interview with The Paris Review, Toni Morrison spoke about the power of environment when writing. "What does the ideal room look like?" she asked. "What do I need in order to release my imagination?" 

The question deserves our attention. I know it takes time, money and extra work to create beauty within those cinder block walls, not to mention huge doses of creativity.  I think it also takes vision: to not settle for over-flowing recycling bins, broken mini-blinds, or corners with random jackets wadded up...or even gym socks that stay stuck in those corners for the entire semester.  Our rooms matter.  Maybe one day we'll all have enough funding to do this, like at Nick's school. Until then, I celebrate my friends and colleagues who continue to create beauty and warmth in their classrooms, no matter what.