Developmental Designs approach

Seek Wise People

by Ann Larson Ericson

Teaching can be an isolating profession. Some days our only adult contact may be the teacher we pass in the hall as we’re rushing to the restroom between classes. I can still vividly recall my first year of teaching 30 years ago and how lonely I felt. I rarely interacted with other teachers at school. I went home after school to roommates who worked at banks and hospitals and law offices, and they had no concept of what my days were like. I frequently found myself overwhelmed and unsure how to approach challenging students or challenging lessons, and I didn’t know where to turn. It was hard, and I drove home many days in tears wondering if I had chosen the right profession. What I needed was a wise person in my life, but I didn’t know that I needed to seek that person out.

The Difference a Word Can Make

by Edna Attias

It never fails to amaze me how some words can be taken so literally by middle school kids. Yet, as a teacher, I don’t always think of capitalizing on it. Each year, when I start a new advisory I wonder how am I going to get my students to bond and connect with one another. How am I going to build a community in which they learn to care about each other rather than a fragmented group of individuals who end up bickering and then paying lip service during advisory? I believe cultivating a community is essential to meeting my students’ needs for productive relationships. My hope is that they will be able to work together across genders, race, and socioeconomic backgrounds without the need for cliques and bullies, and that they will come to accept each other without categorizing or making judgments. In other words, they become like members of a family.

With-it-ness

With-it-ness
by Ann Larson Ericson

 

How with-it are you? What do you see happening in your classroom, in the halls, and on bus duty? Are you a teacher who notices everything? Development Designs’ philosophy says that we can never not notice things. We always have to be aware of the kids in our room and all the overt, as well as covert, behaviors that are going on. It can be exhausting, but what a difference it makes in your classroom when you’re with-it and your kids know you’re with-it.

Where We Are and Where We Want to Be

 

by Edna Attias

I stood there trying to tolerate the deafening silence. I finished a Mississippi countdown in my head, to make sure I was giving students enough call time, but there were no responses to my question. Were they paying attention? Did they understand the question? Was I an alien who just landed from space? I thought my lesson was engaging and fun, but my advisory group was not grabbing onto its hook.

Lately, I had noticed that during my teaching time and class discussions, students were very quiet, yet when it was time for partner or group work, the classroom buzzed with voices that were a few notches higher than what I would have wanted. There was also more giggling and off-topic conversations (such as who was dating who) than necessary. Our CPRs were no better. Side conversations and attention-seeking behaviors started to cloud and poison our meetings. I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. I’d tried to isolate each of these behaviors and address them with my students. I was sweating the small stuff, yet I was failing to make an impact on my social butterflies.

The Gift of Reflection

By Scott Tyink

For my March birthday, I asked my son to give me the gift of time—time doing something together. We both enjoy running, so he signed us up for an 8K race in his university town. I was happy for the gift.

We had been trying to do this race for the entire four years he attended, but something always seemed to get in the way. We ran side by side, weaving in and out of the mostly college runners. We hadn’t intended on it being a way to close out his college career, but we naturally fell into talking about his tenure. There was no arranged agenda and no assigned questions—just a dad and his son having a moment.

We talked about the good friends he made and how he might keep the relationships going even though they would now be hundreds of miles apart. We discussed his choice to attend that university and why it was a good one. We discussed what he learned from school, both socially and academically. And of course we talked about the fun he had: life in the dorms, going to football games, and weekend trips. 

Minding Our Mindsets

by Ann Larson Ericson

Aaron interrupts the class for the fifteenth time. As soon as I turn my back, he’s out of his seat, clowning around and disturbing his neighbor. He stays on task only so long as I let him know I’m tracking him. When I move to focus on another student, Aaron stops work and begins distracting his classmates. I am losing patience and hope.

And then there is Seth. I notice that his head is down on the desk again. He’s ignoring the materials in front of him. His lab notebook is on the floor. His experiment is stalled out on step one. Rousing him, I hear my own nagging voice and frustration. Have I given up on Seth too?

And let’s not leave out Tasha, who dances into the classroom, circulating her giddy chatter and teasing playfulness as the rest of class settles in to learn. How many more times must I redirect her back to her seat and to the task at hand?

Then I think about “mindsets.” There is a powerful sentence in the Developmental Designs 2 Resource Book that has been running through my head lately:

The growth mindset is the space of possibility that we hold for students, created by our belief in their capacity for growth toward responsible independence and achievement. (99)

Those words “the space of possibility” resonate with me and have led to a lot of soul searching. Do I believe in the “space of possibility” for Aaron when he blurts out in class and distracts the entire class for the fifteenth time in one class period? Do I believe in the “space of possibility” for Seth when he again puts his head down on the lab table and refuses to participate or interact? Do I believe in the “space of possibility” for Tasha when midlesson she dances around the room singing and laughing and shouting to her friends? The answer to those questions is a resounding yes! I have to believe in the space of possibility for them even as I dig deep to find the tools to combat my own impatience and loss of faith.

But how do I do this? How do I change from “He can’t . . . ,” “He always . . . ,” and “She will never . . . ,” to truly believing my students can grow and change? I have to actively and consistently respond to these situations in a way that lets my students know that I notice what they’re doing and that I will step in to redirect them when they need it. While at the same time, I must let them know that I believe they can grow into responsible independence. Whether it’s one time or fifteen times, I need to gently, yet firmly, let Aaron know to wait his turn to speak and attend to his work with or without my immediate attention. I have to send the message to Seth that checking out is not an option, because we both know he is capable of learning. Tasha needs to be given as many reminders as it takes that her dancing and clowning around in class is not how high school kids behave. I have to remain objective in my interactions and not take their behaviors personally while letting each and every one of my students know I care deeply and hold high expectations for them. There is so much I have to do to develop my growth mindset with my struggling students. Some days I have to take a deep breath and regain my composure before responding, but my kids need to know that I haven’t given up on their growth.

            How do I, or we as teachers, keep ourselves from slipping into a fixed mindset? How do you find the space of possibility for your most challenging students?

Download PDF:
"Language that Encourages a Growth Mindset"

 

Join the conversation.
Please share your thoughts—Post a Comment below or subscribe to the RSS Feed in the Comment box.

About Ann Larson Ericson 
For more than nine years, I've been using the Developmental Designs approach in my school. I am currently the 7–12 Instructional Coach at Community of Peace Academy, a public charter school on the east side of St. Paul, Minnesota.  Before starting my new position, I taught high school chemistry and physical science at Community of Peace Academy. Since 2011 I've spent my summers as a Developmental Designs facilitator of professional development. Previously, I've taught science at urban and suburban schools, served as a director of gifted and talented education in a rural Wisconsin school district, and taught English in Shanghai, China. I hold a Bachelor of Arts from St. Olaf College and a Master of Arts from St. Catherine University. Contact me at [email protected]

 

How Are Students Doing? Let's Ask Them!

by Erin Klug

In October, schools will have an opportunity to participate in the Gallup Student Poll, a survey that tracks the hope, engagement, and well-being of students in grades 5 through 12.

Aspirations Are Guides to Goals

For the next few weeks, adolescents have their say about Developmental Designs practices. See how declaring goals early in the year helps students stay focused.

Meaningful Goal Setting September through May

Coaching helps Developmental Designs practitioners identify areas for growth. Here consultant Scott Tyink coaches a teacher in student goal setting. He shares how weekly goals can invigorate learning and build skills for goal fulfillment.

“I will ask questions when I don’t understand.” Cultivating Growth-minded Students

By Ann Larson Ericson

At the beginning of each semester, I have students write declarations of what they want to achieve in our science class. It’s always eye-opening to see what they write and how their declarations inform their attitudes and performance in class. I learn a lot about them through this exercise, and it gives me a great lead-in to talking about student mindsets.

Three Cheers for Process!

by Erin Klug

It’s summer. School’s out, which means sometimes kids tag along with their parents to work. Recently I was in a meeting where a mom kept her daughter busy with a floor puzzle. After she completed the puzzle the first time, all the adults in the room cheered. She appeared unimpressed with the public acknowledgment of finality from the group. She tore it apart and proceeded to piece the puzzle together three more times.