A lot of things contributed to the timing and outcome of those five minutes. First off, I didn’t think I would cry. Do not get me wrong. I’m a cryer, but not in front of several hundred of my peers. The tears felt right, though. They were already part of the story. I cried the night that my friend told me her daughter had “overheard” our conversation and wanted to help. She wanted to start the book drive with books of her own. I bawled. Sweet release. Her innocent charity cleared my mind and softened my heart. I needed to share that same sentiment, again.

Once my heart took his place on my sleeve, the rest was all feeling. I felt the words of the story for the remaining thirty seconds.

And then it was over. Our hearts were full.

The next day my principal had asked me to post the video to YouTube so he could see it (he had to leave early) and share it with our staff during our afternoon meeting. So I did, but I didn’t realize that once I uploaded it, that it would send a tweet out. I had planned on writing a blog post and then sharing the link with others. I didn’t anticipate to have that unexpected tweet to be retweeted and then shared and then posted to Facebook.

Friends and family were commenting and leaving messages about it before I even realized that it was “public”. Totally unexpected. I don’t like self-promotion. I don’t feel I have a lot to prove. I do what I do and I love doing it. That should be evidence enough. That said, I did send a few DMs with the link to some folks because I knew that they would appreciate this special story. My sister left a comment on my blog. I didn’t think she even knew I had a blog. My mom left me a very heartfelt message, before calling me. Friends from home shared the video. I wasn’t expecting all this.

Best of all, I have a community now that wants to help. Our school counselor is planning on taking my student to a few local business to help find more donations for her book drive. Friends and family in town are asking where they can drop of books and how they can help.

As for my student. She is excited. She offers to show me her backpack each day. She wants to regain my trust. She understands that she made a mistake to take the books. We are talking about how to set up and manage the book drive and eventual book-trade. She sees that there are better ways to share and serve than to “robin hood” her way into acceptance and friendships.

I thank everyone for helping me share this story. But again, this is about learning to lead with our hearts in the moments that students need us to the most. I am still learning to do this. It’s easy to stick with tradition, the norms, the expected. Sometimes I like things to be easy, but in those moments I’m only thinking of me. I will continue to work on this. I will hope and pray for patience, clarity, compassion, and empathy. I know that’s asking a lot, but the trials will only help me grow. What about you, though? What experiences have you had that required a soft heart instead of a clenched fist? I would love to know how you have done the #unexpected and changed the course for a child or for yourself.

We were coming back from ITSC 2012 (#itsc12), there in Portlandia. I’ve been going for about four years now and I have always preached to the interwebs and the twitters that it gets better each year. This year was no different — by far the best year yet. What sets ITSC apart is the sense of community that accompanies the sessions and workshops. It literally encompasses the entire conference.

As a part of the conference’s evolution, this year’s program included a Soirée of Slides. The premise was based on the Ignite style presentations — five minutes, 20 slides, 15 second transitions. I had known about it for some time. I had several ideas fermenting in my mind but none of them called to me. So I procrastinated like any other overworked and underslept human being. I prepared most of the slides at the hotel, between sessions and the many late night hangouts.

But where was I going to go with it? I had no idea. Well, that’s a lie. I had a couple ideas, but wasn’t sure which direction to take. I had the fortune of having dinner at Tim Lauer‘s house with several of the ITSC cast. And that’s where I met Rushton Hurley. We shared our plans for the Soirée and he convinced me that my two ideas were not entirely separate, but parallel and powerful.

See for yourself.

It was a special story that I had to share this past Tuesday. I still get emotional when I think of the compassion and generosity of Ivy — her immediate willingness to give of her own to someone that may never understand what all this means now to so many.

My student was at school today. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to approach the situation and my (our, thanks Jen and Ivy) plan for a book drive. She met me in the principal’s office. I asked the school counselor to be there as well. Just the three of us. We sat almost knee to knee, her and I. And we began to talk. I asked her about the recent events. We discussed her thought process over the past several months and what had happened to so many books. He answer was simple. She didn’t know. She was not sure why she took the books other than that she wanted to read them. She talked about taking books that she thought her two year-old sister would like to hear or books that she could share with her neighbors. As the conversation went on I could see in her eyes that she really did not know what she had done was “wrong”; that the currency she had used to buy social interactions was not earned but stolen.

My heart broke again. This time, however, it was because I knew my reaction was the right one. Her eyes grew larger and brighter as I explained what her new responsibility would be in light of this situation. She said things like, “I’ve never done that before.” and “I get to be in-charge?”, and “I wonder who else would want to help.” So starting Monday, she will head our community book drive and organize a book-trade in which anyone can take or leave a book.

She may not have left the room fully understanding the moral dilema she perpetuated, but instead she left knowing that there is a better way to share her love for books with others.

As I stood up to hug this little girl my eyes met the teary eyes of our school counselor. Just moments before this meeting, she had asked the usual questions regarding punishments, detentions, and possible suspension for stealing. The unexpectedness of it all was more than she anticipated. She then saw what I saw — a little girl that already lived in a world of turmoil and confusion. Today was our opportunity to bring her out of that world, if only for a moment, and empower her instead of the expected belittling we so often justify.

I think my heart grew yesterday and even more today. I may need a bigger sleeve to wear it on after all this.

To do the unexpected leaves us vulnerable; vulnerable to unwanted criticism; vulnerable to the judgements of our peers; sets us up for failure; and often challenges tradition. That’s why as teachers, as humans, we often live for the predictable. We crave habit. It’s easy. It’s comfortable. I could have raised hell, I could have had the principal, SRO, and parents all in there to yell at her. That was the expected response; the easy way out for anyone involved, except for her.

And that’s why the unexpected can be so powerful. Today a little girl walked out ready to serve instead of walking out afraid of what awaited her.

It started with a handful of students not reading during an independent reading time this morning. I like to give my students opportunities to read throughout the day; read things that excite them or just interest them. A lot of my students enjoy these pockets of reading. Others apparently do not. A few students were off task–flipping pages, chatting with a neighbor, staring into oblivion–doing the usual things fifth graders do when avoiding something. After several suggestions and a few pleas to read, or even find a new book, these students still could care less about their reading. Or at least it appeared that way.

Then I wrote this:

My question about reluctant readers soon became a much much bigger frustration. It wasn’t the fact that a number of students weren’t reading at the moment, it was another issue; an issue of student perseverance and patience in the learning process.

So how do you teach that?

I work at a Title I school. We average about 94% Free or Reduced Lunch. Our kids come from poor homes. There is no question about it. Most of my students live in the now. If they have a dollar, they have to spend–even if that means buying something for someone else. For many it is about instant gratification. Sadly, many come from homes where if they don’t take advantage of something today, it most likely will not be there tomorrow. They are impulsive. It is how they survive.

So how do you teach with that in mind?

And there isn’t much that motivates them unless they get to enjoy it now, now, or now. “Mustang Bucks” (fake money put into baskets for drawings) are a joke to most. Missing recess is an even bigger joke.

So how do you teach with that in mind, realizing that little motivates them other than the instant extrinsic novelties?

I truly am at a loss here. I spoke with them. I asked them. I tried to discuss it. I got nothing. I’ve been at this school for six years and this is the first time I’ve ever felt like this.

Where to now?

Update: I feel I need to provide a little more context. Last quarter we did a fairly substantial Solar System project. Students drew, at random, their topic–they genuinely enjoyed the thrill of not knowing what they would learn about. Then, each group designed two guiding questions. The questions were to guide their research and inquiry. We then let them loose. They were given expectation of what the final product should contain, but the form in which they presented that was up to them. They dove in. Many go lost in the oceans of Google results and found themselves mindlessly wondering from link to link. They need help focusing back on their questions as the process continued. This took a lot of time away from other things we had hoped to do. Focus and refocus became the words of the day.

Now we are in another quarter. We have started another project. This time they chose their topic as a team. We are looking at natural disasters historically and learning about their impact on those who suffered through them and the impact on science today. For this project though, we provided each group with a list of links and videos to use for their research. No Google for this one. We had hoped to focus their reading and learning. But for some reason, most (if not all) have fallen flat. No excitement. Minimal effort. It could be the content. It could be a number of things, I suppose. It just seems uncharacteristic of these students. Like I said, I’m at a loss.

I guess my other question is this: How do you provide students with choice in the direction of the next project without getting too far away from the content that you are obligated to present them throughout the year? It is difficult enough to expose them all to it. How do you determine what they need to master and what they need merely be exposed to? I refuse to look at “the test” and teach from that, but I also want to make sure my students feel confident every time they go into the lab to test. I’m torn between what I know my deserve in my classroom each day and what I feel obligated to “teach” them by the end of the school year.

Technology has become an important tool in our classroom. It has, quite literally, changed the face and focus of learning for many of my students. Our class has an opportunity this year to have 1:1 iPads. It’s working for us. You can see it in their faces. Their attitude towards “school” has shifted from one of obligation to enthusiasm. Kids are engaged, genuinely engaged.

Now we get to share that with a lot more of you. My class, along with several others at my school and in my district, will be participating in Digital Learning Day on February 1, 2012. The Alliance for Excellent Education, in conjunction with a number of sponsors, educators and civic leaders, have organized this day to help improve the quality of learning for all students. And for several months a workgroup consisting of Education and EdTech leaders have come together to assist the Alliance in planning and promoting Digital Learning Day.

Education is evolving and technology is one of the catalysts that seem to be positively affecting change. We hope that through this effort we can provide educators, parents and the community with more resources to provide a higher quality of learning to each of our students. Events will take place on various levels, from what you are doing in your classroom to a National Town Hall Meeting in Washington, DC.

When you go to the Digital Learning Day site to Sign Up you’ll find resources, ideas, and strategies in the Toolkits, and be able to see what others schools across the country are doing in the Showcases.

There are so many ways to participate this coming February 1. Sign up so we can count you among those working towards improving our students learning. Start a conversation with your peers, your family, and your neighbors. Try something new that day. Use a digital tool to reshape a learning experience for your students. And please, share your success. We know you are doing amazing things. Showcase them to your friends across the country.

This school year has brought with it more than I ever knew I could handle. I’m not claiming to be handling it well, but I suppose I’m making progress.

I’ve struggled a lot this year. I’ve struggled with confidence in myself. I’ve doubted my leadership. I’ve doubted my ability to see this year and my goals to fruition. It’s been tough to say the least.

Have I mentioned I passed on what may have been THE opportunity of my lifetime back in July. That doesn’t help.

I have a great group of 32 kiddos. They are all eager to learn. They enjoy seeing me each day and I can’t wait to see them smile each morning. But yet I still struggle.

I love reading, when I get the chance. There are a lot of great thinkers out their blogging, tweeting, and sharing their ideas and learning with others. I could list several dozen, but fear offending the other five or six dozen I will forget to mention. They write. They write well. They have ideas, challenge our thinking, and try to find reason in an unreasonable system and time. How? How do they do that? I can’t make it home without my “box-o-stuff” each night…that sadly sits on our piano (the one I have yet learn to play)…that often goes untouched because it’s so daunting. I can barely remember what I have to get done before tomorrow, let alone perseverate on anything that anyone else might find insightful or worth reading.

I find myself on the grid less and less. Not because I don’t want to be, but because I don’t know how to. Maybe it has something to do with having four kids now. Could be.

No doubt my Klout score is suffering, right?

So there I am. I’m struggling with “making it”. We’re doing a lot in my school this year. But sometimes, with such a prolific edublogosphere, if you’re not sharing and putting it out there, does it really matter on the grander scale of things?

That’s dumb of me to ask. Of course it matters. One day I’ll “make it” but until then I’m good with being this; whatever this may be. “Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.”