Thesis: Introduction
I thought it was the perfect plan as a fresh college graduate: I would work as a classroom aide to gain experience while I started the coursework to earn my teaching credential. I prepared for my interview, rehearsing answers to the questions I was likely to be asked. However, when I sat down with the principal, the first question she asked was one I had not prepared for: How would you feel about teaching first grade?
The Supernovas: 2002
My first year of teaching was a mess. I had no idea how to teach 1st grade and, as the only first grade teacher at this tiny charter school, I had no one to model after. There were no books. No books! How would I teach students to read?! The kindergarten and second grade teachers reached out to me a bit, but my days were spent frantically trying to manage an unusual class: thirteen girls (no boys), four of whom were later identified as having extreme special education needs. The school had the tradition of creating a class name. We voted to become The Supernovas, but we were more like the super-no-idea-what-to-doers. I was lucky to have a part time instructional aide, but neither of us had a clue what she should be doing either. Many afternoons were left as unstructured play time because I was so exhausted and overwhelmed and just couldn’t think what else to do with my class of young ladies. The days were very long, my home life was saturated in web searches for ideas and resource scrounging; I quickly gave up on trying to juggle credential classes too.
Over the course of the year, I managed to build a library of books and find ways to put my aide to work. My girls were reading, writing, and solving mathematical problems. I confess, however, that my students were sorely prepared for second grade. I felt uncomfortable asking for or receiving help and cocooned myself in my classroom. When my principal finally visited my room in May, I was relieved (and surprised!) to receive a glowing evaluation. Deep down, however, I knew my principal’s positive review didn’t really reflect what was happening in my classroom, but I wasn’t sure how to do better or where to get help.
The kindergarten and second grade teachers did reach out to me, in their own way. I recall one of the first things the second grade teacher said to me when she saw my classroom set up: “Is that how you are going to put your desks?!” And then she laughed. I know she probably made less judgmental efforts to help me, but that one experience killed my trust and respect for her as a resource. I always felt judged and was guarded around her. The kindergarten teacher was more compassionate and, having had many of my students herself, did try to offer insights. With over a decade of teaching experience, she was one of those teachers who made it “look easy” and, unable to articulate what it was she did to make her class run so smoothly, often gave advice out of frustration: “You need to establish better boundaries!” Or she asked questions I knew nothing about: “Are you using phonics or whole language?” I tried to work with her but felt like I was always letting her down and that I didn’t have the right answers. Or worse, I didn’t know the right questions to ask. Eventually, I just felt happier trying to figure things out by myself and being my own judge.
I never figured out what that second grade teacher thought was wrong with the way I set up my desks for The Supernovas. She had definitely communicated that she saw fault, but I really wish she had been able to collaborate with me to design a layout that met the needs of my students and my own teaching style. I remember changing the desk layout about ten times that first year trying to find a set up that worked. It didn’t help that I doubted myself because of her words. I honestly didn’t gain insight into the finer details of classroom layout until I took a two-day seminar on classroom management one summer. How sad that I had to learn from an outside professional what my more experienced neighbors could have helped me develop all along.
Mentoring: 2009
After two years, I moved on. I finished my credential program but no longer qualified for any beginning teacher support programs or student teaching requirements because I had “too much” teaching experience. My husband and I moved back to San Diego and I began teaching English at Magnolia Science Academy, a small start-up charter middle school. We opened our doors with four full-time teachers, a principal, and a part-time secretary. We were so swamped trying to get our school up and running there was no time, much less any sort of structure, for sustained mentoring to happen.
After four years, Magnolia had grown to full capacity and was able to start more formally supporting their staff. I took on the additional role as a lead mentor supporting interns and first year teachers in the state BTSA program (Beginning Teacher Support and Assessment). I think I was largely driven to help mentor others because in six years of teaching I had not had someone to mentor me. As a mentor, I have helped my “mentees” with all sorts of needs: classroom set up, emailing parents, grading papers, planning field trips, drafting behavior contracts, setting routines, managing interruptions...all the things that I wish someone had helped me through in my first years as a teacher. But it is not too late for me. The beauty of the mentoring relationship is that it is not a one way street. I do not feel as if I am the wise sage waiting to pass my knowledge on to the new teachers. I feel like a partner, learning just as much from my mentees as they are from me. Every time we problem solve, I discover new ways of thinking about teaching and learning. Every time I work with them on lesson planning or classroom management, I pick up a new tidbit of information or a new way of doing things.
I love mentoring.
At the same time I began mentoring, I began the graduate program in School Leadership at High Tech High. At first, the two were not intentionally connected. I chose to pursue my Master's degree because I saw such amazing potential and enthusiasm in the charter school community but a sad lack of experienced leadership. My hope was that, after two years of studying school leadership in HTH's innovative setting, I would be better able to handle the many responsibilities I was accumulating as an "experienced" member of the Magnolia family. Interestingly, the purpose of going to graduate school matched the purpose of the BTSA mentoring program: staff with amazing potential and enthusiasm, but a lack of experience, are better able to handle their many responsibilities after two years in the program. Of course, I did not see this parallel at first.
In my first year of the GSE, I thought I would focus my studies on "school culture" because Magnolia seemed to lack a real identity or anchor. I tried various ideas to define our culture, create professional development, and build interactions amongst staff. What I discovered was that "school culture" is a complex and living system of values, actions, and experiences--much too broad for a single Master's thesis. Simultaneously, the mentoring program was proving to open doors and develop relationships that were impacting the culture of our school. Gradually, I began to realize the collaboration and communication skills I and others used as mentors were rubbing off not just on our mentees but amongst the staff in general. Mentoring was becoming a growing part of our “school culture.”
Magnolia Teacher Intern Program: 2011
In the spring of 2011, Magnolia asked me to help develop the mentoring component of an intern credentialing program they hoped would be approved by the state. The Magnolia Teacher Intern (MTI) Program would ultimately impact the family of fourteen Magnolia schools, from San Diego to San Jose, by training both mentors and new teachers. I would be designing the training, supports and guidelines for mentor teachers at any of Magnolia’s school sites. When the program launches, in fall of 2012, these mentors would be partnered with intern teachers, brand new to the classroom and working towards their teaching credentials. With this powerful blank slate in front of me, my thesis question became: What structures and supports help mentors be successful in their mentor relationships?
The Magnolia Teacher Intern Program is built around my experiences as a teacher and mentor, the experiences of my staff and peers, the work of other successful mentoring programs, and the latest ideas about “school culture” as it pertains to mentoring. Although I have crafted mentoring within the MTI Program to fit Magnolia’s needs and culture, I believe the that online hub of resources will be useful to others who are developing formal or informal mentoring programs of their own.
The Supernovas: 2002
My first year of teaching was a mess. I had no idea how to teach 1st grade and, as the only first grade teacher at this tiny charter school, I had no one to model after. There were no books. No books! How would I teach students to read?! The kindergarten and second grade teachers reached out to me a bit, but my days were spent frantically trying to manage an unusual class: thirteen girls (no boys), four of whom were later identified as having extreme special education needs. The school had the tradition of creating a class name. We voted to become The Supernovas, but we were more like the super-no-idea-what-to-doers. I was lucky to have a part time instructional aide, but neither of us had a clue what she should be doing either. Many afternoons were left as unstructured play time because I was so exhausted and overwhelmed and just couldn’t think what else to do with my class of young ladies. The days were very long, my home life was saturated in web searches for ideas and resource scrounging; I quickly gave up on trying to juggle credential classes too.
Over the course of the year, I managed to build a library of books and find ways to put my aide to work. My girls were reading, writing, and solving mathematical problems. I confess, however, that my students were sorely prepared for second grade. I felt uncomfortable asking for or receiving help and cocooned myself in my classroom. When my principal finally visited my room in May, I was relieved (and surprised!) to receive a glowing evaluation. Deep down, however, I knew my principal’s positive review didn’t really reflect what was happening in my classroom, but I wasn’t sure how to do better or where to get help.
The kindergarten and second grade teachers did reach out to me, in their own way. I recall one of the first things the second grade teacher said to me when she saw my classroom set up: “Is that how you are going to put your desks?!” And then she laughed. I know she probably made less judgmental efforts to help me, but that one experience killed my trust and respect for her as a resource. I always felt judged and was guarded around her. The kindergarten teacher was more compassionate and, having had many of my students herself, did try to offer insights. With over a decade of teaching experience, she was one of those teachers who made it “look easy” and, unable to articulate what it was she did to make her class run so smoothly, often gave advice out of frustration: “You need to establish better boundaries!” Or she asked questions I knew nothing about: “Are you using phonics or whole language?” I tried to work with her but felt like I was always letting her down and that I didn’t have the right answers. Or worse, I didn’t know the right questions to ask. Eventually, I just felt happier trying to figure things out by myself and being my own judge.
I never figured out what that second grade teacher thought was wrong with the way I set up my desks for The Supernovas. She had definitely communicated that she saw fault, but I really wish she had been able to collaborate with me to design a layout that met the needs of my students and my own teaching style. I remember changing the desk layout about ten times that first year trying to find a set up that worked. It didn’t help that I doubted myself because of her words. I honestly didn’t gain insight into the finer details of classroom layout until I took a two-day seminar on classroom management one summer. How sad that I had to learn from an outside professional what my more experienced neighbors could have helped me develop all along.
Mentoring: 2009
After two years, I moved on. I finished my credential program but no longer qualified for any beginning teacher support programs or student teaching requirements because I had “too much” teaching experience. My husband and I moved back to San Diego and I began teaching English at Magnolia Science Academy, a small start-up charter middle school. We opened our doors with four full-time teachers, a principal, and a part-time secretary. We were so swamped trying to get our school up and running there was no time, much less any sort of structure, for sustained mentoring to happen.
After four years, Magnolia had grown to full capacity and was able to start more formally supporting their staff. I took on the additional role as a lead mentor supporting interns and first year teachers in the state BTSA program (Beginning Teacher Support and Assessment). I think I was largely driven to help mentor others because in six years of teaching I had not had someone to mentor me. As a mentor, I have helped my “mentees” with all sorts of needs: classroom set up, emailing parents, grading papers, planning field trips, drafting behavior contracts, setting routines, managing interruptions...all the things that I wish someone had helped me through in my first years as a teacher. But it is not too late for me. The beauty of the mentoring relationship is that it is not a one way street. I do not feel as if I am the wise sage waiting to pass my knowledge on to the new teachers. I feel like a partner, learning just as much from my mentees as they are from me. Every time we problem solve, I discover new ways of thinking about teaching and learning. Every time I work with them on lesson planning or classroom management, I pick up a new tidbit of information or a new way of doing things.
I love mentoring.
At the same time I began mentoring, I began the graduate program in School Leadership at High Tech High. At first, the two were not intentionally connected. I chose to pursue my Master's degree because I saw such amazing potential and enthusiasm in the charter school community but a sad lack of experienced leadership. My hope was that, after two years of studying school leadership in HTH's innovative setting, I would be better able to handle the many responsibilities I was accumulating as an "experienced" member of the Magnolia family. Interestingly, the purpose of going to graduate school matched the purpose of the BTSA mentoring program: staff with amazing potential and enthusiasm, but a lack of experience, are better able to handle their many responsibilities after two years in the program. Of course, I did not see this parallel at first.
In my first year of the GSE, I thought I would focus my studies on "school culture" because Magnolia seemed to lack a real identity or anchor. I tried various ideas to define our culture, create professional development, and build interactions amongst staff. What I discovered was that "school culture" is a complex and living system of values, actions, and experiences--much too broad for a single Master's thesis. Simultaneously, the mentoring program was proving to open doors and develop relationships that were impacting the culture of our school. Gradually, I began to realize the collaboration and communication skills I and others used as mentors were rubbing off not just on our mentees but amongst the staff in general. Mentoring was becoming a growing part of our “school culture.”
Magnolia Teacher Intern Program: 2011
In the spring of 2011, Magnolia asked me to help develop the mentoring component of an intern credentialing program they hoped would be approved by the state. The Magnolia Teacher Intern (MTI) Program would ultimately impact the family of fourteen Magnolia schools, from San Diego to San Jose, by training both mentors and new teachers. I would be designing the training, supports and guidelines for mentor teachers at any of Magnolia’s school sites. When the program launches, in fall of 2012, these mentors would be partnered with intern teachers, brand new to the classroom and working towards their teaching credentials. With this powerful blank slate in front of me, my thesis question became: What structures and supports help mentors be successful in their mentor relationships?
The Magnolia Teacher Intern Program is built around my experiences as a teacher and mentor, the experiences of my staff and peers, the work of other successful mentoring programs, and the latest ideas about “school culture” as it pertains to mentoring. Although I have crafted mentoring within the MTI Program to fit Magnolia’s needs and culture, I believe the that online hub of resources will be useful to others who are developing formal or informal mentoring programs of their own.