If you follow any of my other social feeds, you know that Braeden made a new Bunny puppet for his mother. So, naturally I used TACKK, an amazing digital storytelling tool to share the story. I love Tackk because it’s the perfect way to share the details beyond the images and videos that I load across the web. I especially love the instragram integration. If you haven’t checked it out…you should! I’ve embedded it below. You can also view it on TACKK, here.

Today, as we were prepping for Sunday Morning service, I stood watching my niece do her hair. I had just arrived at their home after a store run for hair products…a trip that I’ve made many times over the years. I had "a moment" at the store upon finding the one small corner shelf for products meant for ethnic hair. It’s amazing how much of the world is blind to us when we aren’t "in a place" to see it. One shelf…amidst an entire aisle… When my daughter was younger, we had many disagreements about hair. She didn’t live in a world of noticeable differences. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t use the latest fruit flavored scents from the other shelves. In her mind, she was no different than her other friends…why would she think any differently? One moment between us gave me pause. We arrived home after her getting yet another relaxer and a friend invited her to go swimming. Even with the tightest of swim caps, there was no way on earth that she could swim in a pool of chlorine after her chemical straightener. She was 16 and we had a nice long discussion about her hair compared to her friend’s. After a few minutes of talk, she looked at me and asked… "Are we really having this discussion about hair mom? I’m not going to limit my life because of my hair." Amazing how much life was loaded into that one statement. One small shelf….amidst an entire aisle No daughter, you are not your hair…

Tonight, I read an article that gave me pause on the use of the word "articulate". I believe that the intention was to pay a "compliment" to students at a conference who were speaking up about their needs for technology in the classroom. Aside from the fact that students pictured were of color, which I knew had no real correlation to the meaning, the implications of the word in the sense that "students were actually poised and articulate" rubbed me the wrong way. I cringed upon reading the word. It bothered me and I needed to explore why. (I actually started this piece and restarted this piece on several occasions throughout the night. I talked to members of my family and had deep moments of pause…and enlightenment.) Some Personal Background Both of my parents attended segregated schools and in both of those schools learning to speak articulately was embedded within the curriculum. My mother says that this was the case because her teachers understood the world that they would face if they did not have this skill. My father agreed. Growing up, my mother trained us to be "speakers" too. It was important that we understood how to speak with authority, eloquence and clarity. We learned this skill through church and community speaking events. To my parents, being "articulate" wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity. They also BELIEVED it to be a compliment Reflecting on being Articulate Neither of my parents have ever really been immersed in professional circles. My mother is a retired educator but our circles of involvement were much different. Our experiences are not the same. My mother even echoed the phrase, "Being articulate is a compliment. Maybe it’s you. Why does it bother YOU? Maybe this is something that you need to have reflective pause about?" I told her the story of our family friend who upon being appointed HS principal at a nearby school was cackled by a group of admins about being a "rapper" principal who would probably walk the halls of his school sagging. Upon meeting him, they’re tune changed to "Oh, he’s actually pretty articulate". It was as if they heard him speak and decided to accept him. My mother was shocked. I told her about the times that I listened to a state winning UIL speaker speak amongst a group of speakers. He was the only black speaker and the only one that members in the crowd referred to as articulate. Again, my mother was shocked. I told her about the times that I spoke and was met with, "oh you’re so articulate" and the time that even my nephew spoke followed by, "wow, he’s articulate". Shock…not compliment. My mother said that maybe this has more to do with the obvious rift within our own race…that we have some who are very articulate and some who are not. Like it or not, there is some truth to this statement. Within our own race, there is often an aura of "class" associated with articulateness. She reminded me that for years, black folks had to learn such skills in private because it was frowned upon publicly. Not everyone learned how to speak. Not everyone could. My mother said…"Maybe people still expect us to not speak well." The more that we sat and talked, the more that she realized that sometimes this phrase was filled with more condescending tones than even she recognized. We also agreed that even with a "racial divide", we don’t refer to each other as articulate. There is a sense of pride but not one of shock. This phrase is almost always one that is used from a place of "privilege" to one of "less privilege". It’s the black exec in the office, the leader, the student speaker, the keynote, the teacher or even the brand new principal. It’s too often the person of color sitting in the gray area where being "articulate" becomes the "pass key" to acceptance…privilege. No one calls the white speaker articulate. They expect him/her to be. No one calls the white quarterback "well-spoken". It’s expected. Yet, when I speak…you feel the need to "compliment" my articulateness. Oddly enough, when I speak…I do so with the echo of my mother’s voice demanding that I speak with purpose and clarity. I guess some might consider this as articulate. I consider it an expectation and maybe others should do the same.  

I’m working diligently on a book about the missing voices of edtech, which is a look at diversity from multiple lenses. Every time I think that I might just be finished, a new layer shows itself. A few weeks ago  Stephanie Sandifer, in all of her twitter "rant" greatness, kicked off "INVITE", a facebook group aimed at tackling the issues of diversity at edtech conferences. There was no way that I could publish a book without including this because the impact of that conversation was so hugely inclusive and important… that leaving it out would have been blasphemous, in my opinion. I love that fact that others are coming out of the woodworks to say that not only were they thinking the same thing, but they wanted to help by finding ways to help our community be more inclusive. I also love that so many have said that they had not even realized that this was an issue and were willing to listen. It’s easy to sit and complain about what’s wrong in a situation but to purposefully discuss and listen is the only way that change begins. Warrior Women in Tech A little over a month ago, another tech in my office told me about a new high school tech club aimed at women in technology. I made contact and through twitter connected with the student initiator of the group. She’s an amazing young lady who loves technology and had her own vision to change the landscape of it. With the encouragement of a teacher, she started a club at her school aimed at women in tech. Thinking that very few girls would show, she was pleasantly surprised to find that 24 girls were interested. 24 girls from disproportionate computer science classes were not only interested in the club but also wanted to change the world. Their first order of business was to encourage more girls by reaching out to their junior high feeder schools. Once a week, the ladies of "Warrior Women in Tech" teach coding to a room full of junior high girls. You could not sit in that room and NOT "get" why such a venture was necessary. The conversations that these girls were having, the relationships that they were building and the skills that they were learning…were possible because of being in an environment created to cater to their needs. I have never been as inspired in my entire life at seeing a room full of middle school girls learning to code apps from high school girls. I talked to them about blogging and sharing their story. Last night, a blog was created. We even talked about video which I’m sure will be on the way. Another project that the ladies of WWIT are doing is building an app aimed to have impact on their community. This is a part of the technovation contest where teams of girls compete in coding activities. Technovation How can you NOT be inspired? Perhaps my greatest takeaway from the entire evening was learning that 24 girls got together to change the world and they are doing it with skills that their passions have led them to learn…on their own. Empowered by one teacher and their google apps account, the world became their classroom. The world, within reach of the tips of their fingers, is theirs to disrupt and we all get to witness it. So, maybe the answer to getting more women in tech was right in front of us all along. They’re sitting in classrooms waiting on permission to be the change. Now, with pleasure, I get to rewrite this portion of my book.

My son has always been a bit of a deep thinker when it comes to world affairs. As a matter of fact, we could talk for hours on end about pretty much anything…as long as it didn’t relate to him personally. There was always an understood wall guarding that part of him. Yesterday, this conversation took place…   Rap Communication I had no idea that my son was "free-styling" every night before he slept and probably throughout the day. The other night, he decided to type his thoughts into his phone. He’s never done that. He said that as he was sitting there, the words kept coming and he had no choice but to write them down. He said that writing felt like the right thing to do. He could focus more as he typed words into his screen. (apparently paper and pencil is not a thing) What my son did was bigger than what he even realized. Growing up, rap held such a negative connotation in our home. My brother wrote songs and rapped but his life was filled with so much negativity, that rap music often carried the blame. If we knew then what we know now, I imagine that our approach to my brother’s music would have been vastly different. The pain of our lives…his life…was deeply intertwined in his music and we didn’t listen. I regret that. For my parents, it was easier to blame the music than to look at the truth of what was happening. I wouldn’t make that same mistake. So when my son sent that text message announcing that he had written a verse, I felt nothing less than the need to hear what he had to say. He wrote… "I remember late nights talkin to granny about life. Bout how I was doin mama wrong when dad wasn’t treatin her right. How I ain’t been to church in a while and I needa see tha light. Steady arguin wit dad bout it but it ain’t worth tha fight. Seein momma struggle man that was the final strike. That sparked somthin in me man it made my heart tight. They say the sky is the limit but I’m tryna reach new heights. Hopin that I make it, motivate me more when people say I might. Nowadays you looked down on if you ain’t white. But it’s been like that forever it’s been like that forever. Been feelin sick lately but I gotta get it together. So I can get my momma a new roof for that bad weather." In one verse, I understood my son more than I had in months. This wasn’t just about artistic expression. This was him channeling his emotions into rhymes and rhythms. I wouldn’t make the mistakes that we did with my brother. As difficult as even the rest of his piece was to hear, I needed to know. My son sent me the rest of his work…his heart in rap. In two verses, he was dealing with not only the pressures of growing up but also how the divorce and tumultuous life that we lived prior… bothered him. I promised him that I wouldn’t share the rest of his words but I will say that somewhere in the craziness of adult actions was a teenage boy trying to figure out his place in life and how to handle the pressures of being him. There is a rhyme and reason to this moment and it’s wrapped in a cloak of words with rhythm. My son would go on to ask me what I thought about his work. My reply was that I was deeply touched and that I loved it. His reply, as simple as it sounded, also carried so much meaning… "Thank you mom. That means so much hearing you say that" He’s talking…I’m listening… (On another note, I’m glad that my son has my brother to help him understand how to manipulate his words. This was the first real connection that they’ve had and they both needed that.)

Anyone that wonders why technology access is important hasn’t spent time with a 9 year old driven by his artistic passion and goals to create the world that he wants to live in. They have no idea what it’s like to watch from afar as he searches relentlessly to learn something that sparks his "wonder"… only to then be captivated by an entirely new idea. Then, the cycle begins again. When the world is your classroom, you don’t see things as they are. You see things as you can create them to be. Pinterest isn’t just a page full of stagnant ideas. It’s a page full of things that people have created, shared, revised, re-created and shared again. It’s the idea hub of idea hubs and the beauty of it is that its growth is astounding. It’s not just normal for one to search a site like pinterest for ideas to create…it’s understood. When the world is your classroom, you have no problem with trying something new even without written instructions. You know that there is a "help" website, blog or in most cases…a youtube video. The other day, I handed my nephew a new app and I didn’t need to sit beside him to explain how to use it. I showed him one thing…layers. He learned everything else through youtube and trial and error. I didn’t even have to tell him that there were youtube videos…it was understood. When the world is your classroom, there are no boundaries to sharing what you do. An upload button is not cloaked in fear. It’s a window to teach someone else as you have learned. My nephew, at 9, will grow up understanding the power of blogging, sharing and publishing. Once he found search, his first thought was that he wanted people to be able to find things that he has done on the web too. This didn’t scare me at all because I knew that as we taught him to publish, we would also be teaching him about digital citizenship. His blog and my instagram feed are full of his work because when he creates, publishing isn’t a question…it’s understood. When the world is your classroom, there is no waiting on someone to grant permission to learn. There is no book or timeline specifying when the learning occurs. It’s not a matter of "can I". It’s a matter of "when" and "for how long". Every moment is an opportunity to be inspired and through that comes even more chances to try. Failure happens often and it’s a simple shrugging of the shoulders because when the world is your classroom, it’s understood that these things happen. They just do. When people say, "it’s not about the tools", I hope that they really mean that because when the world is your classroom, it really isn’t. It’s about passion and a need to share it. It’s about using what is necessary to accomplish a task. It’s about learning something new that you never even considered. These are the moments when learning isn’t a question of "tested" or "not tested". Learning comes from this unknown place called….fun When the world is your classroom, it’s understood that you can do five things… Learn Curate Create Collaborate Publish No directives…Understood Simple

In a matter of weeks, we’ll all be saying goodbye to bright smiling faces and yet another year of learning. In a year’s time, we planned activities, wiped tears, gave hugs, attended trainings and even implemented new technology. We made a point to address the needs of learning and purposefully made sure that students were reached beyond the limits or constraints of standards. Somehow in the middle of a field of projects, devices, crayons and posters…we’ve also managed to teach them life lessons that will serve to frame the people that they will become. Learning That We All Have Value I remember being in a training years ago and as we worked collaboratively to develop content. We were asked to consider that each person brings a level of expertise to a conversation. We had to set aside our differences to work together to reach a goal. It wasn’t easy but we learned so much about each other in doing that. It changed the way that I approached my own teaching. I started using phrases like "you all have expertise" when helping students to establish building collaborative relationships and my gosh, it was like seeing light bulbs glow at once! Collaboration isn’t an easy skill but it’s a necessary one and as difficult as it can be, it’s fulfilling to see kids own their journey and recognize, for themselves, the value that each brings to the table. This is such an important life lesson for all of us to learn regardless of age. Power of Perseverance One of my students, E, was told for years that he was incapable of being anything more than a thug on the streets. He was told this so much that he actually believed it. This one was one of my toughest walls to break. He needed someone to believe in him without question and I was happy to serve that role. It wasn’t easy but as long as he was willing to push through, I was going to push him. (I probably didn’t give him much choice in the matter) For three years, he came to school early and stayed late. We worked on every subject that he had beyond my class. His graduation was one of my most cherished moments as a teacher. He understood the power in pushing against naysayers and I grew as a witness to his journey. Thinking about it still gives me chills. You Can Fall, But You Must Get Up! Years ago, one of my students, who I will call B, did not pass her state exams to graduate. As someone who struggled in math her entire life, this was devastating. She had multiple opportunities still left to pass, but her confidence was gone and she didn’t want to try again. I went to her home and sat down with her and her mother. We talked about all that she had accomplished up to that point and that quitting was not an option. Over the next few months, we worked like crazy in small sessions so much that she could literally teach. Needless to say, she passed the test but the greatest lessons were those that happened along the way in getting there. Many of you may be feeling beat down from the mandates and requirements throughout the year. Trust me. I know. For a moment, I don’t want you to think about test results and other data. Reflect on the journey and the moments that really mattered with your students. These moments, beyond the standards, are what truly matter most.

I’m sitting here watching the kid problem solve his way around creating a stage for his puppets. There are boxes, baskets, shoes and just about anything to hold the stage up. I’m not helping him. My role is that of observer and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Today, Braeden took his puppet, Lenny, to school to share with his classmates. His friends, now familiar with most of his furry friends, were fascinated with Fancy the Flamingo and have demanded a new episode of the Lenny the Lizard show. So, while I finish the last remnants of book writing and practice my DEN Virtcon session for tomorrow…this is what I get to see in my peripheral vision… In case you missed it…This is normal when the world is your classroom.

I struggled with sharing this story but I felt that it was one that needed to be shared. I’m an educator but I’m a parent first and sometimes I make mistakes. My children make mistakes and writing this was really therapy for me in dealing with it. I haven’t slept. I needed to write and this is it.  Yesterday, I ignored my gut instinct, intuition and experience telling me not to allow my son to go to a friend’s quinceañera. It was odd that without thinking, the only word that came to mind was NO. I’ve rarely said no and my finite answer caught us both by surprise so much that he begged even more. Against a force so deep that I can’t explain outside of the hand of God himself, I gave in. Everything in me knew that this was a mistake. A few hours later, my younger brother called and told me not to be alarmed but that my son was being detained for alcohol possession. (Don’t be alarmed???) Before he could even get out that I needed to meet him, I was on the road headed for my child. What the heck??? This is a kid who normally preaches against smoking, drugs, alcohol…wait…what?? Lesson 1: Your kids are not perfect and sometimes they make boneheaded mistakes. This was his first…of many.  Knowing what I was walking into, nothing could quite prepare me for what I was about to see. Nothing on earth can quite prepare you for seeing your son sitting on the ground in handcuffs. Nothing. As I walked up to retrieve my son, the officer handed me the bottle to smell its contents. He said that they’ve never seen or heard of my son and didn’t want to take him downtown. They were willing to sign him over to me. (Thank you) The image of my son sitting there hurts. I’ve never heard of kids being handcuffed for alcohol of such a small quantity and part of me was angry about that. The other part of me was angry at him for putting himself in that position. The final part of me was angry at myself for allowing him to go. I’m not going to lie. I fell apart at that moment in front of my son, my brother, sister and both officers. My son was in handcuffs. It could’ve been much worse. As we drove away, my son tried to deflect attention away from his actions by shifting the blame to someone else. This is where I snapped back into the reality of what we were dealing with. Lesson 2: My son’s actions are his actions. Focusing on anything other than his part in what he did, almost certainly hides the lesson that he must learn in a cloud of thick fog. My son’s "story" is that some random man offered him and his friends liquor in the parking lot. One of his friends just so happened to be carrying an "empty"  squirt bottle which would soon contain liquor with a volume equivalent to that of a shot glass. (He clearly thinks that I am stupid) Lesson 3: There is no way that his story is true. Kids typically won’t snitch. This story pretty much means that the liquor arrived inside the squirt bottle with the friend. Also…focusing on where it came from is one thing. Understanding that this action could have happened at any time…in any place is another.  A Family Affair… As a family, we’ve always dealt with crisis together. This would be no different. Sitting in one room to talk and deal were my parents, siblings, myself and my son. We may have hit on everything from drugs, to alcohol, to sex and jail. My brother would offer insight and intel that we did not have experience with. After all, I’ve never been a black male. It was important for him to be a part of this discussion. My son needed to hear and feel what my brother had to say. We all did. Going back to his version of the story…if he were willing to take alcohol from a total stranger…what else would he take? (Why am I even considering this story to be true other than the fact that it could be and that scares me) The Conversation with Dad That Wasn’t… I would love to say that this situation brought about a united front with my ex-husband, his dad. That didn’t happen. His dad’s view is that my son, at 14, is old enough to make decisions for himself and if this is what he chooses…so be it. (Yeah…wrong answer) Lesson 4: My son made a careless mistake but I care too much to sit here and allow him to let this mistake define the man that he will become. With the support of my family, I will fight tooth and nail for him…even if that means fighting HIM for him. A 14 year old boy doesn’t get to decide to become a statistic without family intervention. That’s not how we do it. I may be "green" at parenting a teenage boy but even I know that! This isn’t over. This is only the beginning. His lesson…Our lesson Lesson 5: Never…EVER…ignore your parental intuition. It’s almost always right.  

If you want to be more creative, you have to toss out the instructions and just go! - Braeden Today in the car, Braeden expressed his plan to create an animatronic puppet. Like any adult would, I suggested that he search for a kit that we could put together. Replying in the only way that he understands, he said… "Auntie, we’re not buying a kit. Did you know that even kits are made according to another person’s vision? Even if you don’t follow their directions, you only get the parts that they felt you needed. If you make it all yourself, you can try things so that you get what you want." I asked him how on earth we would know what to do because I’ve never made a robot from scratch. His response… "Auntie, I guess we’ll just keep trying until we figure it out." In case you missed it, THIS is what happens when the world is your classroom. Earlier today, I was going through my FB and came across a post by a classmate about her son. She was talking about having a hard time with seeing him break through his legos…putting stickers in random places and simply ignoring the directions. My comment to her was… "He’s cool, innovative and creative! Don’t change it. Embrace it. The world needs more of him" If I’ve learned nothing else from Braeden, it’s that our desires to place creative constraints are really a result of the stifling of our own creativity. At some point, we were ALL "tinkerers" and then someone came along and forced us to follow directions because that’s the only way…right? Wrong! Kids have a natural curiosity with the world and if we really want to foster creativity, let’s stop defining the "how" for them and let them maneuver in the way that they were created to do. This afternoon, Braeden decided that he wanted to be the puppeteer and filmmaker simultaneously. His solution was to tape my iphone to a hat and go. I’ve captured each moment in the Haiku Deck Below. Created with Haiku Deck, the free presentation app There’s also this…