My husband and I married when we were sophomores in college transferring to the University of Washington. He was pursuing architecture and I was in education. We arrived in our little red Subaru at the married-housing office and were told that we’d need to pay $50 for parking.
“For the year, right?” I asked as I was making out the check.
“Ah, no,” the assistant said. “That’s just for the rest of this month.”
The next weekend we drove our Subaru back to park at the family farm and purchased a tandem bike that would become our primary source of transportation, along with trains and buses, for the rest of our schooling. Our Saturday ritual was riding the Burke-Gilman trail to the PCC Natural Market in Fremont to get our groceries for the week. In the beginning, we would get fresh produce, baking supplies, and frozen goods based on what looked appealing. Then began the challenging task of getting it back to our little apartment. Once the panniers (bike bags that attach to the frame) were full, we had to stuff the groceries in backpacks, water bottle holders, and pockets. When a pomegranate popped out of my pocket while riding, I thought, There’s got to be another way.
The next week we tried something new as we took the panniers into the store. As we shopped, we placed the food right into the bags. When they were full, we were finished. With a better grasp of our capacity, our rides back from the market weren’t so uncomfortable.
This was much the way I felt about my overstuffed coaching schedule my first two years. There’s got to be another way. As I had done with those fruits and vegetables, I packed teachers and classes into my schedule with a desire to nourish all, but I didn’t truly understand my schedule’s capacity. Although my intention was pure, I know I dropped a couple of pomegranates along the way.
Time to Plan
One of the most difficult things for me was planning time to plan. It went something like this: I had a writing class coming up that was two hours after school. Even though it was something I’d never taught before, I’d think, It shouldn’t take me that long to whip it together. Over and over again, it would take me an awful lot of time to “whip it together.” I was staying up late or going into work in the wee hours of the morning to make sure I was delivering the quality I expected of myself. The problem was that some weeks I had two or three of those classes. Burnout was on the horizon.
Byron Katie writes personal self-help books that I was reading about this time. One of her quotes from the book Loving What Is: Four Questions That Can Change Your Life goes, “I realized that it’s insane to oppose it. When I argue with reality, I lose—but only 100 percent of the time.” I laughed out loud. Yes, 100 percent of the time I was losing my argument with the reality of planning. Regardless of what I thought I “should” be able to accomplish, the reality was that planning took a long time.
I started to study myself and to make notes about the reality of planning/preparation. “Planning” includes all the time it takes to complete a learning task (before, during, and after):
- setting up the class on our electronic professional development and evaluation system
- scheduling the location
- sending personal invitations to individuals or groups
- creating the agenda and pacing template
- creating the visual media if needed (PowerPoint, Prezi, etc.)
- copying the participant materials
- reviewing the feedback
- following up with communication or other needs
- organizing all materials into a post-PD folder for next time
Professional development planning includes the following:
- one hour to prep for a simple study group
- one hour planning per one hour presenting for something I’ve taught before with low material prep
- two hours’ planning per one hour presenting for something for a new class with materials prep
- three hours’ planning per one hour presenting for a “train the trainers”-type class (i.e., large group, high materials prep, high level of communication)
Using these ratios, I could now see how much time I’d have to schedule and how many classes I could reasonably offer. If, for example, I had a math problem-solving class coming up that was going to be taught from 3:45 to 5:15 p.m., I knew I needed to schedule about three hours for all the planning pieces. I was beginning to better understand my capacity.
Working with Teachers in Classrooms
Along with understanding how much professional development I could put in my literacy coaching “panniers,” I also wanted to understand my capacity for in-class coaching with teachers. My first year I started out meeting with teachers about once a week. Although I was able to work with many teachers, I felt “out of the loop” with what had been going on. We also weren’t able to go as deeply as I would have liked.
My second year of coaching, I tried out three-day coaching cycles. I would meet with teachers for three consecutive days over a period of weeks. This ability to share a common context was an improvement. But I found that as I balanced my program work, professional development classes, planning, and “other duties as assigned,” it was difficult to keep up with the intensity as well as the flexibility I wanted to offer teachers.
This year as I set up my classes, I clustered them together. For example, I’m teaching three all-day release classes in integrating science and literature for third-, fourth-, and fifth-grade teachers. Those classes are all happening within the same week. In addition I’m leading scoring workshops to look at our student writing; those are also clustered within the space of a week. Those professional development clusters have become my “no intense coaching” weeks.
When I started to get requests for my time this August, I knew I had spaces for three to four teachers and two mentees (our first-year teachers) for September and October. As we met at coffee shops and in classrooms as school started, I knew exactly what I could offer them.
When Do You Have Time?
As I type these words, it’s only the second week of September, and already I have teachers asking when I might work with them. One has just set up her writer’s workshop and asked me to come co-teach a specific lesson about notebooks. Another switched grade levels and wants me to come collaborate and discuss tips for first graders during math. These are temporary connections that I can easily pop into open spots on my calendar.
Another teacher wants to strengthen her classroom management this year. Whereas the old me would like to start right away, the new me knows I can offer her more consistency and focused time if we start on November 2. She will become my new “Teacher A” for the next block of weeks. A team of writing teachers wants to do lesson study, and they too will get scheduled in for November right after conferences.
It’s way too early to evaluate how this new system of clustering time for professional development and blocking more time for fewer teachers will work, but I do have a much better sense of my schedule’s capacity. I should be able to see results in working less late into the night or waking at dawn. I hope teachers will be getting the time and energy they need from me. It feels good to be able to say, “Yes, I have this much time to offer.”