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By Ryan Mick


We are pleased to share with you today a piece from our storytelling series of reflections and noticings coming out of our convening in Tucson!


Please stay tuned for more writings from our team of storytellers and revisit the blog here to see them all in the coming months.

 

The ALP Conference concluded on February 17. 2023, and now the stories start coming in. A team of twenty-seven—including eight educators from Tucson—were a storytelling team in Tucson. For the next few months, this blog will share the stories of those folks.


Image from Wix

When it comes to running a school district, there are a million things to juggle. From curriculum to instruction to professional development, there are endless pieces that need to fit together to create a high-quality learning environment for students. And with so much going on, it can be tough to stay focused on what really matters.


That's why Pam Betten, the Chief Academic Officer at Sunnyside Unified School District in Arizona, is such an impressive leader. She's got a laser focus on what really matters: coherence. But what does that mean, exactly?


Well, according to Betten—speaking at the ALP convening in Tucson—coherence is all about making sure that all the complex pieces of a school system work together in a coordinated and purposeful way. That includes everything from curriculum to instruction to assessment and resources. And when everything is working together seamlessly, students benefit from a more holistic approach to education that takes into account their diverse needs and backgrounds.


But achieving coherence is no easy task, especially in a world where the pressures of accountability can lead schools to prioritize alignment over coherence. Alignment is all about making sure that everything is in a logical order, but it can sometimes result in a narrow focus on specific learning objectives at the expense of other important skills and knowledge.


That's why coherence is so important. When a school district is operating with a shared understanding, purpose, and language, everyone is on the same page. Teachers can promote a more holistic approach to education, and students can benefit from a more equitable and effective learning environment.


Of course, achieving coherence isn't a walk in the park. It takes hard work, mindset shifts, and an ongoing commitment to staying true to the district's comprehensive vision for student success. But Betten and her team are up to the challenge.


As Betten herself puts it, "The discipline it takes to not chase what shows up in the newspaper takes tremendous energy." But at Sunnyside Unified, the leaders are clear-eyed and committed to the long game. They know that coherence is the only way to ensure that students are seen, heard, and valued for who they are and what they aspire to be.


So, while the noise and news may try to apply pressure, the leaders at Sunnyside are undaunted. They know that the pursuit of coherence may be challenging, but it's also an admirable and worthwhile feat. And at the end of the day, it's all for the benefit of the students.

 

About the Storyteller


Ryan Mick is Chief Program Officer (CPO) of The Learning Accelerator (TLA). In this capacity, he is responsible for developing the vision for TLA’s programmatic impact, serving as a key partner in establishing overall strategy, and building and leveraging partnerships that support TLA in achieving its mission and goals.


A national leader in human-centered design, innovation, and continuous improvement, Ryan joined TLA after serving as the Senior Vice President of Program Design at City Year. There, he led the organization’s program model efforts across more than 350 schools and the launch of its school design and improvement division, which included the creation of a teacher residency program, a charter school, and several networks for school improvement across the nation.


Ryan is a first-generation college student from rural Ohio. He completed a bachelor’s degree in history and economics, a master’s degree in educational research, a law degree from George Washington University, and is currently pursuing his Ph.D. in organizational learning, performance, and change. Ryan has worked in the fields of child policy, civic education, and legal advocacy and has held roles as special education teacher, program designer, performance coach, and was a founder of the Diverse Learners Initiative at Teach For America.


Ryan joined the TLA team because he believes that students deserve equitable access to the best education, free from barriers and system constraints. Ryan is based in Denver, CO and spends his time hiking the mountains, playing the piano, and traveling the world with friends and family.

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  • Writer's pictureConvening Storytelling Team

By Ruth Hellams


We are pleased to share with you today a piece from our storytelling series of reflections and noticings coming out of our convening in Tucson!


Please stay tuned for more writings from our team of storytellers and revisit the blog here to see them all in the coming months.

 

The ALP Conference concluded on February 17. 2023, and now the stories start coming in. A team of twenty-seven—including eight educators from Tucson—were a storytelling team in Tucson. For the next few months, this blog will share the stories of those folk.




This is a story of many voices. This is a story of intimacy and vulnerability. It is a retelling of recorded bits of thinking out loud shared by courageous humans who spoke their passion and truth.


My notes are a coterie of thoughts. They evoke ponderings, reflections, musings, and ruminations. He asked, “Who am I? Who are my people? See me! Speak to me! Hear me! “Who am I? Consider, who are my original caretakers? To speak is a valuable privilege.” I could not speak. “We need to be willing to stand up. We need to get away from compliance.” The words were a call to action. “How do we show up for them?” An invitation was unleashed!


“Why not our kids? Why do you do what you do? Why this work? Why this way?” He spoke about anchoring the work and lifting communities. He said, “Let’s create a village of wisdom.” The room was a village of wisdom. “Do you take your words lightly?” Followed by, “What’s the noise in the system?” There was an empty space in my notes. Again, he asked, “What are we anchored to?” There is a picture of an anchor in my notes. It is tied to a picture of a boat filled with the word equity. He talked about hurt and joy as part of the same student’s daily experience. I drew a line with the word hurt on one side and joy on the other. A simple question noted, “How do we show up for them?”

The speaker asked, “How do we honor our identity? How are student’s identities playing out inside the classroom?” The speaker said, “Voice and choice aren’t agency. When we talk of learner agency, what can we highlight and amplify?” Seven question marks filled a space on this page. I heard someone say, “Feedback isn’t feedback unless it moves the learning forward.” This sentence is circled several times. “School is something I have to do.” Then he asked, “How do we change a legacy system?”


“If this were any other business, would we be going about it like this? What data do we have that says this is working?” Someone shared, “I’m on a mission to change school. I’m on a mission to expand the notion of school. We have a scoreboard for schools. Who manages it? The student’s voice isn’t living in the data.” I thought, “Where was the student’s voice in my data?”

She stated, “We must take ethical care. We don’t encourage risk. We need to take responsible risk.” Another person said, “There is a tension that happens when you want to be seen and heard.” This was followed by, “I want intimacy and trust.” Someone else said, “I love being here. There are like-minded people who care about things the way I do.”


He said, “We are at the center of our stories. Let’s change the role of student learning and be aware enough to listen to your students.” I heard someone say, “True agency is when students take charge of their learning.” Someone asked, “How do you keep yourself motivated about learning?” Then this, “We are raised to hoard power.” He questioned, “Why must students be at the center?” I wrote, “You learn the work by doing the work.”


He asked, “How do you create an anchor? How do you ground your work?” Someone said, “We give each other support. We support each other’s ideas.” The listening journey ends with this, “When it comes, and it will come, we will need your stories.”


 

About the Storyteller


Ruth Hellams is a retired school administrator and currently serves as an educational consultant and adjunct professor. She received her Educational Doctorate in Leadership from the University of California San Diego/California State University San Marcos Joint Doctoral Program. Her most recent leadership experience was as a high school principal at an innovative nontraditional public high school whose culture for teaching and learning is predicated on the principles of Competency-Based Education, Competency-Based Grading practices and the use of Restorative Practices as the foundation for building and sustaining a culture of excellence. Her work is rooted in the belief that the principal serves as the school’s Lead Learner, one whose role is to relentlessly focus on building and sustaining school culture through collaboration and innovation.

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  • Writer's pictureConvening Storytelling Team

By Steven Martinez


We are pleased to share with you today a piece from our storytelling series of reflections and noticings coming out of our convening in Tucson!


Please stay tuned for more writings from our team of storytellers and revisit the blog here to see them all in the coming months.

 
“Follow your traditions. Your traditions are the traditions of your grandparents.”

This was a concejo stated from a Native Alaskan Elder on the last day of his chief’s funeral ceremony. He told me this 23 years ago, noting my youth, and that of his own community, after reflecting on their lack of participation in traditional song & dance. In these two statements, which were to make a lasting impact in my life, he identified who my elders were and how I should relate to them.


I now carry this simple, yet incredibly valuable, concejo from my youth into my adult life. Consequently, I view the elders of my family with great esteem, and although I cannot take my 102 year-old Mama Sele to all corners of my life, I tend to make other upright human beings my elders after weighing their example and words with careful thought and reverence. In light of this cherished memory, I now share a moment in my life when a lady who attended my ALP Shared Learning Session, who was both stranger and sister to me, became my elder.




It was the last morning of the Assessment for Learning conference and breakfast was coming to a culmination too quickly. It was a breakfast characterized by camaraderie and restful fatigue that follows a retreat or similarly satisfying experiences, so when the MC said, “Last call for this morning’s Shared Learning Session” I shoved the last spoon of oatmeal into my mouth and efficiently bussed my side of the table with my still-steaming Earl Grey tea latched onto my pinky.


The session I chose to attend had just begun. I discreetly slipped into a seat at the rear table which had handouts waiting for me. The session was titled, Revising the School Profile: How Can We Design an Equity Centered Process and Product? The session facilitators were describing their protocol for revising their school profile; they decided to reseat the eight attendees to an intimate circumference of one round table, putting my counterparts face to face with me and each other. This was a move which, in retrospect, mimicked the duality of my ALP Conference experience; the luxury of the hotel setting gravitating me to a restful countenance, yet inevitable contact, if not immersion with intellectuals who forced me to bring both my A-game of wits and emotion to the present situation.


Reading James Madison High School’s profile was the first task with a set of reflection questions. I inwardly rejoiced at the presenters’ practice of building in quiet reading and thinking time. So, I embarked in what I have been classically conditioned to do through various public education school improvement committees and reports and protocols; I looked for what could be improved.


When asked, “Who wants to share?” I was precisely the third participant to comment, in my opinion, violating the disposition of my elder Karol Wojtyla who used to say, “What you have to tell me is more important than what I have to tell you.”


I didn’t catch the name of the woman who spoke after me, but she could’ve passed for my sister from another mother but… a sister… and that is not what made her my elder. She hailed from the same region of the country as myself and worked with the same demographics of whom I work with; nonetheless, none of these details enthroned her as my elder. She may have been born prior to me, if so, not by much, but that didn’t make her my elder, either.


“First of all, I want to recognize the amazing work you have done.” she began with. “You have a lot to be proud of.” She went on to comment on the robust AP offerings Madison had to offer as well as the emotionally safe space the school had created for students. The vibe of what she had to say was different from my spiel. It was congratulatory. It was recognizing the assets that the representatives of Madison High School were bringing to the room. It was showing gratitude in an otherwise thankless profession. It was medicinal to me.


This sister gave me access to appreciate the heart of the presenters. Although I have presented at conferences and been in those shoes myself, had it not been for my sister's unlocking I would be stuck in a world of numbers, quantification, and the anxiety-inducing cycle the education system could sometimes entrap us in where there is a constant need to do better. I was liberated, and although I have not talked to this sister since then, she became my elder.


She recognized the labor of love the presenters had poured into their schools and reassured them that it was good. She taught me, at that moment, and became my elder. She brought out the assets in these human beings who were leaving themselves totally vulnerable to a group of strangers. Why would these presenters leave themselves vulnerable to a room of strangers from different backgrounds and from different parts of the country? Why trust that our words would be more beneficial than damaging to that which they worked so hard for? At that moment my sister, the stranger, revealed to me the presenters’ courage and love for their work. There was no other explanation of why they would be doing what they were doing. She became my elder. I want to make her asset based discourse and humanizing words my tradition.

 

About the Storyteller


Steven Martinez
Master Teacher, Culturally Relevant Pedagogy & Instruction Department, Tucson Unified School District

Parents from Mexico, born in Chicago, and growing up in Tucson, Steven Martinez is a son of God from Aztlan. Steven is a student of life which helps him work on a team of educators trying to set up sustainable systems of culturally relevant mathematics classrooms in Tucson, Arizona. Steven is married with five children and enjoys outdoor adventures to recharge his battery.


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