I've probably mentioned it before, but giving up control of my classroom was probably that hardest part of adopting a more personalized approach. Once upon a time - and even a little still - I was the teacher that would plan a semester at a time. mapping out months of curriculum at a time.

As I grew in my teaching, I learned quickly how futile it is to plan so far in advance. Good instruction is responsive and flexible - two words that I would never use to describe my young practice. I would attribute my change in mindset to attaining my National Board Certification. The reflective process required for this made me really focus on how I am reacting to students and creating intentional next steps throughout the year.

In each manifestation of my personalized approach... (I think we're on Version #294594 at this point)... I loosened my grip a little more. Version 1, I let them decide artifacts to show their learning. Version 2, I let them set their own pace. Version 3... and so forth. Each new approach gave up one more small piece of the control I obsessed over as a young teacher. 

I would say I have grown into the responsive and flexible teacher I set out to become, but there is one challenge in giving up control that still holds me back:

How can I sit back and watch a student fail?

As teachers, we are told to do everything in our power to make sure that students are successful, often at our own expense. We stay late to let them come in and get things done. We extend the deadline, knowing it'll mean a fast turn around for grading. We pester and nag until we're just as annoyed as the kid. 

This mindset has been problematic all along, but it's become the norm and unfortunately, the expectation of teachers. That we sacrifice ourselves in the name of student success. 

There are so many things that have created this dangerous mindset: high stakes testing, incentives, toxic teaching martyrs, and more. It is so deeply embedded in our culture as teachers that we feel that we aren't "allowed" to let a student fail.

That said, they still do.

Often times, I need to remind myself that a student failing is not my fault. I'll recount all the different things I did to avoid the inevitable, but because of the deeply ingrained shame, I'll pick out a handful of additional steps I could have taken. I obsess over that one thing I didn't do.

I talk through this frustration not to complain or whine. Instead, I mention it so that what I say next doesn't come off as hugely callous or unfair...

Sometimes. Students need to fail. 

As I said, stating this goes against everything I have been taught, everything I see in media, and the teacher I pictured myself to be 10 years ago. It isn't a jaded response to years of apathetic students, but a realization of how learning really happens. We learn from our mistakes. 

Right now, I have about 5 students across my three sections of AP Language that are failing. They are missing assessments from previous units and they are behind on the current unit. While the majority of them will get back on track and pull it off in the end, I know I need to stomach that some of them will not. The best I can do is give them reminders, reach out to parents, and offer time outside of class. Beyond that, I have to draw the line. 

They may blame the flexible pacing. They may blame the self-designed assessments. They may blame a lack of direct instruction. But the bottom line is that all of these could have been altered by a simple conversation with me. By reminding them of their options frequently, I am also instilling the core premise of personalized learning: that they are in the driver's seat. 

If the intention of building student agency is for students to take more control of their learning, that control has to come from somewhere else. In other words, I have to give up control so that they can have more. And giving them control will mean mistakes and failures.

Accepting this fact is, in all honesty, the real first step in adopting a more personalized format. As long as you take steps to help students along the way, you cannot blame yourself when they fall short. Instead, you can talk through the choices they made to end up there and help them evaluate what needs to change. 

I'm going to start by being very frank. These have not been good weeks. 

Fortunately, it has nothing (as usual) to do with class or the students. Instead, it's been days and days of frustration with what I perceive as a toxic attitude sweeping across teaching at the moment. I don't want to dig into this too deep right now, but my frustration has really been draining me: keeping me up at night, leading to poor choices, and just creating a heavy metaphoric burden.

That said, I am happy to talk about class. Always. :)
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Classroom management in a personalized learning environment is something that frightens a lot of teachers away. The thought of leaving students to make their own choices and manage themselves is impossible in some classrooms. While I would argue that personalized learning is possible in any context, self-pacing is one aspect that doesn't suit a class that has high classroom management needs. If possible, however, self-pacing can transform your class.

I'm going to acknowledge the obvious: My position as an Advanced Placement teacher may suggest that the kids I have aren't going to be the ones to create problems, and for the most part, that is correct. However, if you are a teacher of students in advanced classes, I am sure we could share war stories about clever cheating methods, off task behavior, and argumentative questions.

What I'm getting at here is that every classroom has management issues that can be exacerbated by some aspects of personalized learning. Honestly, I feel this is the biggest objection to personalized learning that I hear. Self-pacing (which, I remind you, is just one method of personalization) frightens people away because as we all know... teenagers aren't great at managing their time.

Today, I'd like to share some of the ways I keep students on pace and intervene when needed. Just like I try to give them options and adapt to their learning needs, I do the same with intervention. Some things will work on some students. The same ideas will likely fail on another.

Here are some things I've done in the last weeks...

• Negotiations: I have a group of three boys in my second class that prefer to work out in the hallway in our FTLAs (flexible learning areas). To be completely honest, I know they aren't working all that hard out there, especially when students on an alternate schedule fill the halls. On occasion, I'll float out there to remind them to be on task, but for the most part, I trust that they are working. That said, a couple weeks ago, I found out they were all pretty behind when I checked in. Knowing these three value the freedom to be out in the hall, I struck a deal with them that if they met the next suggested deadline, they could continue to sit in the hall. If not, they would have to stay in the room. Two out of the three met the deadline, and the third (after some friendly heckling from the other two) got caught up within 24 hours. 
• Required Time: Our school offers some flexible time in the schedule that I often use as an intervention tool. In class, I will announce a weekly expectation to define who will or won't be required to come to me during that time. This week, I announced the day before our flexible periods (Wednesday) that if they did not submit an item in 24 hours, they would come and do it with me during the flexible time. While I know not everyone has that option, a similar intervention could be before or after school. If students don't come to these required times, I email their parents (which for teenagers is seemingly the ultimate punishment).
• Pinky Swears: Yes. I mean holding up my pinky finger and making students promise to complete something. Last week, I had required a few a couple girls for that flexible time, but they had other obligations they wanted to complete during that time. Each of them promised to get something finished that evening, so I made them pinky swear they were going to follow through. They both did. Furthermore, one of them asked me the following day if she could work in the hallway, and when I asked if she was going to be productive, she immediately put her pinky up. Pinky swears still go a long way with 16-17 year olds, I guess.
• Proximity: I have a group of girls in my last class of the day that consistently distract one another, sit on their phones, and talk too much. In their own words, they've been "in the doghouse" with me. Because there were a couple other pockets of off task behavior, I put together a seating chart for that class. However, as soon as learning time started, they have the choice to move around and the same people gravitated back to one another. Because I didn't want to go back on my word about my expectations for learning time, I simply moved to an empty seat nearby and occasionally reminded them about being focused. I'd give them one look, and they'd immediately defend what they were working on. 

So as you can see, different kids respond to different interventions. As the year goes on, I'll see more and more what is going to work and what won't. I know there is validity in consistency - (I mean, I've had my CHAMPS training like the best of them) - but absolute rules and expectations are just plain unreasonable. I do have clear set expectations for when I am lecturing, reading time, or for it we are doing something together, but beyond that, everything is determined by the individual student and situation.

If you walk away from this post with anything, I hope it is the belief that self-pacing is possible and that some flexibility and creativity with your intervention practices can go a long way. The bottom line is simple: different kids need different things. And that includes different classroom management strategies.


I hope this post finds you well and... honestly, surviving. We do this work because it is important. Know that your impact on kids is worth the tough days (or weeks, in my case). Be well!