Commonplace Books--My re-introduction to journaling

If it makes any sense to you, and maybe it doesn't, I think I had a lot more to say in my journal when I was in late middle school/early high school than I do now. I look back, and, man, was I a deep, though ridiculously idealistic, kid. Now? Psht. I have this habit of saying everything I would write in the traditional journal out loud. I know. Those of you who do not know me are probably scoffing. "No one says EVERYTHING they're thinking out loud." No. Honestly. Ask anyone who truly knows me. I do. Moving along. That said, I abandoned the traditional journal a long time ago. There were always so many wasted pages, and, very frequently, my ramblings had more to do than the boy over whom I was swooning than anything transcendent or life-altering. #Letsbereal They made for nice little love timelines, though.

After some encouragement from AND a workshop led by my department chair about Commonplace Books, I've decided to give one a try. For the uninformed (aka: me before Mrs. L told me about them), Commonplace Books are, according to Harvard University Library,

In the most general sense, a commonplace book contains a collection of significant or well-known passages that have been copied and organized in some way, often under topical or thematic headings, in order to serve as a memory aid or reference for the compiler. Commonplace books serve as a means of storing information, so that it may be retrieved and used by the compiler, often in his or her own work.

The commonplace book has its origins in antiquity in the idea of loci communes, or "common places," under which ideas or arguments could be located in order to be used in different situations. The florilegium, or "gathering of flowers," of the Middle Ages and early modern era, collected excerpts primarily on religious and theological themes. Commonplace books flourished during the Renaissance and early modern period: students and scholars were encouraged to keep commonplace books for study, and printed commonplace books offered models for organizing and arranging excerpts.

 

 

     According to Mrs. L's professional development presentation, a LOT of famous people kept Commonplace Books, including: Twain, Emerson, and Thoreau, to name a few. Many people whose Commonplace Books serve as modern examples were considered the great creative minds of their times--for good reason, I suppose. Commonplace Books are terrific ways to dump everything you're learning onto a page. In fact, we are *hopefully* going to require every student in the rhetoric (high) school to keep one throughout their four years. Imagine having pages and pages of the things that inspired your heart and mind throughout high school. Now, I would argue that's better than an enumeration of your heartthrobs. Yeah?

 

So, I've started my uber-simple Commonplace Book. It's just quotes now, maybe some reflections on quotes/ideas later? Who knows. I'm really enjoying it and encourage you to start. Every couple days, I'm looking back over it and actually RUMINATING on what I read days ago, something that, as a teacher who is required to read for work all the time, does not happen as easily as you'd think. Instead of just skimming over those little gems of knowledge or wisdom, I'm looking at them, writing them down, and then looking at them again! Glory be! I'll keep you updated. For now, I'll leave you with one of my Commonplace quotes.

 

 



Information washes over us like a sea and recedes without leaving its traces behind. Wrestling with truth, as the story of Jacob warns us, is a time-consuming process that marks us forever.

-Susan Wise Bauer, The Well-Educated Mind, p. 25

Okay, I'm a little delirious. I've been grading off and on for about 10 hours. STILL, there are two things making everything seem a little clearer: my "Feelin' Good" playlist, which includes Mumford & Sons, Kid Cudi, Matt + Kim, and Jackson Browne #judgemeicandeal, and Mike Schmoker's book Focus: Elevating the Essentials to Radically Improve Student Learning. Schmoker's book looks all serious and boring on the outside but is, thus far, a down-to-earth, quick read that addresses the anxieties most teachers are having about the nature of public education today. And, let me tell you, it is helping me to NOT have a panic attack in terms of all the things we're facing. According to Schmoker,we can do it, guys, we just need to simplify... which I think is what Thoreau stressed a long time ago... but, then, he wasn't a public educator, was he? He was a dude who lived by himself, in the middle of nowhere, a dude who was NOT surrounded by constant chaos and mandates, so let's give ourselves a break for JUST now figuring it out.

I think the craziest thing about Schmoker's book, thus far, is that the suggestions he is positing for public education sound a WHOLE FLIPPIN' LOT like what we did when I was a student at a CLASSICAL school. *Gasp!* What?! Classical models are now moving to public school? We're just gonna read and read and write and write in a beautiful, simple way, and children will learn in the normal, not-so-new-fangled way? Maybe. According to Schmoker, we need to avoid all the glitz and glam that comes with new program and that new initiative. Can we keep our focus long enough, pedagogues? I might be too young to have this much cynicism towards the people who make decisions, but srrsly, these are the same individuals who have passed every other plan.

Now, if this were something that I could accomplish by myself, I'd just go rogue, read a bunch of books, and come up with my own plans. According to Schmoker, there is one teacher who made significant gains in his classroom following that model, but aren't we SO much stronger together than alone? So, we need to have each other's backs, to support one another--'cause heaven knows, this scatterbrained girl is NOT infinitely creative to the degree that she can come up with common this and common that all by herself. I'm re-thinking so many things about my approach to the classroom, and, if Schmoker's right, I might just be able to do what  love, which is just straight-up teachin', and be REALLY effective at my job---sayyyy waaaaaaat?! You heard me. That's what he has said in the first two-point-five chapters.

 

These claims sound really good. Too good. Look at me; I'm such a little cynic. So, I'm off to finish another set of tests and then read another chapter. I'll keep you updated.

You know those unexpected moments of clarity, the ones that frequently occur when you're trying to do something else? I had one today. While trying to grade/plan, I wondered how I became a teacher. What got me into this whirlwind of a profession? If you're a teacher, you know what I'm talking about, and I KNOW this sentiment is not a new one, especially in the teacher-blogger world. On a typical day, I will make hundreds of copies (I did not want to be an office assistant.), email parents about how frequently their child gets up and wanders around a room like a cow roaming for food (I did not wish to be a micromanaging control freak.), run papers back and forth, all over the school (I do not get a cool bicycle like a professional messenger), and attend at least two meetings that determine whether or not there is a policy issue with a particular disciplinary action (...and I gave up my dream of becoming a Supreme Court Justice a long time ago.).

So... what is it? What is the draw? My mother has asked me many times. Well, in the last couple of days, I have received messages from two former students, both of whom were less-than-enthusiastic about reading, or exhibiting any academic effort, to be frank.

Message 1: "So, I am beyond late on the whole Teacher Appreciation Day... I just had to let you know, though, you were one of the absolute best teachers I've ever had. I hated English with a passion, but you changed me. In more ways than one. You gave me a wake up call. I love reading now! You really pushed me, and I owe you a huge thanks. So thank you, very much."

Message 2: "I got a 100 on my senior presentation!!!! I'm the only one to get a 100 (not tryin' to toot my own horn)..."

For now, that'll be enough. Hopefully some of the precious lambs who are currently causing me to beat my head against a figurative wall ('cause, hey, that junk'll kill some brain cells--no bueno--teachers need 'em all!) will send me similar messages.

Until then, I'm living on coffee and prayers.

FYI: There are nine days of instruction left!