Seven years ago I got to do something that many teachers never have a chance to do: open a school. I was a part of a newly formed team of educators who were embarking on something new, a novel kind of elementary school that Detroit had never seen before. The school is University Prep Academy Elementary Ellen Thompson Campus.
At my interview I was so excited because I was told the school was going to have small class sizes: 16 students! It couldn't get much better than that for me since I was coming from a classroom that started out with 19 in the fall and jumped to 35 mid-year.
There were several of us who had taught in public schools and those who had not yet taught. We started on a journey as 22 teachers and one principal who were not quite sure how things would turn out, but were were sure of one thing: we wanted to teach and innovate the way that teaching was done for urban children. There were three weeks of training, team-building and culture building. The three weeks were well worth it. Even though our building was not ready for us to even walk into until three days before we were set to open in the fall of 2005, we were ready for something new. We'd spent the three weeks across the street at one of the district's high school buildings (the high school was already up and running), watching the construction workers walk in and out of the renovated warehouse that would soon be our home. Above, you can see a photo of what our building looked like before it was finished.
I can imagine that some teachers would not want to be apart of three weeks of professional development that happens prior to the start of school. However, the time was well-planned. The training was intentional. Time was spent on learning about our instructional programs, but there was also time spent on developing relationships.
Our instructional programs got me excited about teaching through inquiry and at varying levels for more individualized instruction. We were going to be implementing a balanced literacy program that not many schools in urban areas had adopted: Fountas and Pinnell's Guided Reading & Writing. Our math program was a familiar one that I was not yet convinced would work: Investigations. There were a lot of hands-on lessons to be done. I was so excited.
The focus was on "one student at a time." We were going to create individualized learning plans for each of our students and they would present an exhibition in front of family, classmates, teachers and anyone else who was apart of their learning team, based on project of their interest. How cool would it be that each kid could do an inquiry project about something that s/he truly cared about? As it turns out, it was very cool--at least when they got enough help from their families outside of school to create and learn about the project.
This was the first time--in my two seemingly long years of teaching--where I did not have to worry about anything. The materials were there: books, folders, pencils, paper, notebooks, whiteboard markers, overhead projector and film, and copy paper. For someone who had spent two years in classrooms where I wrote letters to companies asking them to help me stock my classroom with basic items that all teachers need that were not being provided for me, this new school was heaven! My mother, also a teacher, was impressed when I said, "I have everything I need to teach the way I was trained to teach in college." A comment similar to this would be later echoed by one of my fourth-graders at our first Back to School Night, "Mom, my reader's response journal has everything I need."
Unfortunately, for teachers, having everything we need is not a feeling that all of us share. Seven years ago, I was one of the few teachers who has had this experience of having everything I needed and doing something that not many of my colleagues have had a chance to experience. We did not know if we would be successful, but everything pointed toward an answer of "yes."
At my interview I was so excited because I was told the school was going to have small class sizes: 16 students! It couldn't get much better than that for me since I was coming from a classroom that started out with 19 in the fall and jumped to 35 mid-year.
There were several of us who had taught in public schools and those who had not yet taught. We started on a journey as 22 teachers and one principal who were not quite sure how things would turn out, but were were sure of one thing: we wanted to teach and innovate the way that teaching was done for urban children. There were three weeks of training, team-building and culture building. The three weeks were well worth it. Even though our building was not ready for us to even walk into until three days before we were set to open in the fall of 2005, we were ready for something new. We'd spent the three weeks across the street at one of the district's high school buildings (the high school was already up and running), watching the construction workers walk in and out of the renovated warehouse that would soon be our home. Above, you can see a photo of what our building looked like before it was finished.
I can imagine that some teachers would not want to be apart of three weeks of professional development that happens prior to the start of school. However, the time was well-planned. The training was intentional. Time was spent on learning about our instructional programs, but there was also time spent on developing relationships.
Our instructional programs got me excited about teaching through inquiry and at varying levels for more individualized instruction. We were going to be implementing a balanced literacy program that not many schools in urban areas had adopted: Fountas and Pinnell's Guided Reading & Writing. Our math program was a familiar one that I was not yet convinced would work: Investigations. There were a lot of hands-on lessons to be done. I was so excited.
The focus was on "one student at a time." We were going to create individualized learning plans for each of our students and they would present an exhibition in front of family, classmates, teachers and anyone else who was apart of their learning team, based on project of their interest. How cool would it be that each kid could do an inquiry project about something that s/he truly cared about? As it turns out, it was very cool--at least when they got enough help from their families outside of school to create and learn about the project.
This was the first time--in my two seemingly long years of teaching--where I did not have to worry about anything. The materials were there: books, folders, pencils, paper, notebooks, whiteboard markers, overhead projector and film, and copy paper. For someone who had spent two years in classrooms where I wrote letters to companies asking them to help me stock my classroom with basic items that all teachers need that were not being provided for me, this new school was heaven! My mother, also a teacher, was impressed when I said, "I have everything I need to teach the way I was trained to teach in college." A comment similar to this would be later echoed by one of my fourth-graders at our first Back to School Night, "Mom, my reader's response journal has everything I need."
Unfortunately, for teachers, having everything we need is not a feeling that all of us share. Seven years ago, I was one of the few teachers who has had this experience of having everything I needed and doing something that not many of my colleagues have had a chance to experience. We did not know if we would be successful, but everything pointed toward an answer of "yes."