being a teacher

Quiet, ordinary, enough

I’m on my second cup of tea of the day.

Waiting for my husband to come home so I can head out into the world with our youngest, giftcards burning a hole in her pocket.

We woke up in the dark, but knowing that we gained 5 minutes of sunlight already. We lumbered into awakeness through pages read, quiet conversation, and a plan for this second to last day of the year. A plan that will inevitably change, much like it always does.

We continued at the kitchen table, laying out hopes and dreams for the year to come but also reflecting on the year past. We are walking into 2026 with gratitude, dragging our tired bones behind us, but also reveling at the strength that sometimes comes from just surviving the challenges that were embedded in our lives.

2025 will be remembered for some of the darkest days I have had as a parent, searching for answers in how to give a child hope enough to last into the next day. Leaving my home not knowing what I would come home to. Waking throughout the night and wondering whether someone is truly okay or just pretending and whether the tomorrow we wake into becomes a break in our timeline, the before and the after.

But we didn’t.

And so I continue to seek out the ocean as I winterbathe tellling myself that I am okay. That we are okay. And I walk into 2026 with this in my head. I am okay. We are okay. Reveling in the little moments of calm. Of my second cup of tea looking out into my frost covered garden, waiting for the sound of nearly all teenage feet to inevitably stumble into the kitchen demanding my attention.

Our lives are lived in these moments.

In quiet contemplation, in quiet joy that is right there detectable but only if you look. In late night movies, in pages turned, in situps and pushups (nearly anyway), in marveling at the stars although we have seen them so many times, in the taste of a well-cooked meal. In a child waking up for one more day with the fortitude and strength to continue living. In getting dressed and heading to spaces where we get to be part of the quiet joy of other peoples lives. Where for a moment we can help others feel seen, feel understood, and feel like being there, together, actually does matter.

Some of the children we teach are not striving. They are surviving. And on some days, so are we. It is a truth rarely spoken out loud, tucked beneath the language of goals and growth, beneath the expectation that learning must always look like progress. And yet, sometimes the most meaningful thing that happens is simply that someone returns. That they show up. That they choose, once again, to be part of the day.

At its heart, education is not about fixing what is broken. It is about being there. About becoming one of the quiet, steady places in a life that may feel anything but. A pause, a familiar routine, a story that asks nothing in return. About recognizing that survival is not a failure of ambition, but often the bravest work being done.

And so we show up. Not because we have answers, or because presence will solve everything, but because it matters.

Because sometimes what carries us forward is knowing that someone will notice if we arrive, that there is a place where we are expected, where we can sit for a while and simply be. Our lives, and our classrooms, are made of these moments. Quiet, ordinary, enough.

being a teacher

Boost you read aloud with drawing prompts – some ideas

I’m a doodler.

Facing long meetings or tasks where I need to intently listen, I instinctively reach for something to draw on—not as a means of escape, but as a way to focus. I know I am not the only one. 

Doodling, when done mindfully, has been shown to boost attention and cognitive processes. It helps in information retention, reduces mind-wandering, and provides a creative outlet that promotes stress reduction.

I think we could all use some of that. And so with the Global read Aloud kicking off on Monday – are you joining? I thought why not share this post again on some ideas for using directed drawing prompts during read alouds.

Now, these are not necessarily for during the reading; after all, we want students to be able to relax into the text, and if you are asked to do something simultaneously often it is the attention to the text itself that gets lost. But, it can be used as a way to dive deep into the story, to showcase critical thinking, and to start conversations about what we noticed and what we know.

To further enhance this practice, consider incorporating a few best practices for mindful and directed drawing:

When we bring drawing into our read-alouds, the goal isn’t just to keep kids busy with pencils and paper. It’s to help them see, feel, and process the story in new ways. Here are some ways to make drawing during read-alouds both intentional and joyful.

Start with an intention. Kids do better when they know why they’re drawing. A simple, kid-friendly goal—“today we’re trying to show what the main character is feeling” or “let’s draw the setting so we can picture it more clearly”—gives focus without shutting down creativity.

Connect drawings to the story. Anchor the drawing to what you’ve just read. Maybe it’s a character’s choice, a key object, or a powerful scene. This helps kids process and remember what matters in the text.

Slow down and notice. Encourage kids to pause and pay attention to the details in the words before they draw. What did the text actually say? What clues help us imagine it? This practice builds careful readers as much as it does careful artists.

Leave room for choice. Prompts are great, but don’t box kids in. Let them interpret the scene or character in their own way. This freedom is where their personality and imagination show up.

Share and talk it out. Build time for kids to show their work and explain their choices. “I drew the sky dark because I think the character felt scared.” These small conversations grow community and deepen understanding.

Use drawings as conversation starters. Ask, “Why did you draw it this way?” or “What made you notice that detail?” Their answers often reveal big insights about how they’re making sense of the story.

End with reflection. A quick question—“What did your drawing help you notice in the story?”—can turn doodles into deeper learning.

When we approach directed drawing in this way, it’s not about pretty pictures. It’s about creating another doorway into the story, one where creativity and intention work together.

I placed them into a slideshow, but here they are as well 

being a teacher, end of year, reflection

Sliding into break by stopping the teacher thought train

An oldie but a goodie as many start to slide into summerbreak. Here in Denmark we go all the way until the end of June, with “just” a month off, before we head back in August. Perhaps like me, you need to find a way to stop the teacher thought train?

As an educator in the US, it normally took me weeks to finally relax at the end of the year. In the countdown to goodbye, my body took on more and more thoughts, as it got ready to finally have the time to process the whirlwind of a ride I had just been on.

Those thoughts churn into late evening, meticulously turning over the last school year, analyzing needs, reflecting on mistakes, and, of course, planning for the next year. Is a teacher’s brain ever truly at rest?

So while the calendar may finally say break, my body takes a long time to believe it.

A few years ago, I realized that if I was ever going to get to a point of relaxation faster, I needed to somehow stop this process of thought pile-up my brain otherwise jumped into. And so I started reflecting in a way that felt opposite of how I normally reflected. In a way that focused on reclaiming my identity beyond  teaching, as a way to find a better footing when, inevitably, the rush of the school year would swallow me whole again.

It didn’t always work and I go through many questions, sometimes they work, other times they don’t. Perhaps a silly exercise, but in so many ways these questions allow me to recenter, give myself permission to say “good enough” and also make some promises to myself about how I want to face another year that is bound to be even crazier than the last (at least, if the last couple of years have been an indicator).

So here are a few I have tried that seem to help me unlatch from the mania of teaching. That allow me to find myself again as my kids wait for me to become present once more. Perhaps they can help you as well?


Perhaps you have your own to share?

PS:  I don’t always write the answers down. These can also be used in  discussion or simply thinking about them. If writing feels like more work then I don’t do it.

being a student, being a teacher, reflection, Student Engagement, Student-centered

Would I like being a student in my own classroom? A reflection tool

One of my driving questions for the past 15 years has been a simple one; at the end of the day, would I like being a student in my own classroom? And as I have one month left of school, I feel the question pressing in on me as I think of next year and both the joy of continuing with my current class, as well as becoming the classroom teacher for a different class.

Would what we do make me feel safe? Help me engage? Make me feel like my voice was heard and respected? Would the way we learn, grow, discuss, and assess make sense to me?

This question is a conversation starter, an invitation into meaningful reflection where you get to craft the path for what you may need to shift or tweak your day-to-day practice.  Because ultimately it is about creating conditions for shared power as a way to show children just how much power they can have over their own bodies and minds, even within the confinements of a publicly mandated and government decided educational system.

In fact, this question is at the core of my newly published book, Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students, now in its 3rd edition! But it’s not the only question, I ask. In fact, the books has more than 100 reflection questions embedded throughout, some big, some small, all meant for you to carve your own path into a more sustainable, meaningful practice.

But as a way to get you started, I decided to pull together a reflection sheet for you, modeled after questions in chapter 2 of the book.  It’s 3 pages with 12 questions, that can be used by itself, as part of a larger reflection, or a book study, individually or with others. You can do some of the questions or just a few. You can write, discuss, or simply think. It’s a tool, use it as such and make it work for you. 

👉 Link to the tool right here

And if you are interested in diving deeper, I highly recommend my book. I poured my heart into it, making it a practical invitation into co-created spaces that are not exhausting to be in. And right now, it is on sale.

The book is written as a companion to the practice you already have. It is not meant as a long list of abbreviations or new systems, but instead a way to help you reflect, while also offering up a major array of practical strategies and tools that you can use the very next day.  It is meant as an affirmation, while also giving you access points to grow your practice so that you may feel better about the time you spend teaching, the students feel like what you do together matters, and that everyone is given tools to continue being critical questioners and thinkers outside of your learning space.

Is it worth it? You can see the reviews from other educators here

Whether you buy the book, or simply follow my work on Instagram or Facebook, just know that I am here to help.

👉 Access the PDF right here

being a teacher

This is How We End the Day

Today I ended class much like any other day.

 

I change my questions based on what we have seen, and what they may need to just sit with for a moment before we say goodbye. The students are ready to say goodbye, and I share a few words about the day, mostly the great and then something we are still working on as a class. Today, it was that we need to trust ourselves before asking an adult for help, and perhaps also notice a bit more when we are interrupting others.

And then I asked; did I have calm in my body when needed? Did I ask questions when I needed to? Did I help others? Did I notice how I impacted other people? Was I a good friend? Did I help make our school a great school to be at?

We are not in a circle when we do this, I don’t follow a script. It grew out of an organic need for reflection and also a peaceful way to say thank you for today. It takes a minute, two tops. And the questions? Well, I come up with them every day, always making sure there is at least one that every kid will be able to say yes to it.

It is a small thing. It seems a lot of impactful changes are. However, when I shared the practice on Bluesky (follow me here) many said it resonated with them. That it offers kids a way to consider their actions and themselves as a part of the whole. That this practice means we get to end in a few minutes of calm, where we reconnect with the whole day, without being lectured, without belittlement, but just a simple invitation for honest reflection and contemplation of who we are, and who we want to be.

Perhaps this is something you could use as well?

What might these questions be? Here are a few that you can use as you develop your own:

  • Was I able to find peace in my body?
  • Was I a good friend to others?
  • Was I able to not create conflict or solve it if it happened?
  • Did I participate in the learning today?
  • Did I listen when others spoke?
  • Did I ask questions when I needed?
  • Did I take any good chances today?
  • Did I help make our school a good school to attend?
  • Did I help make our class a great class to attend?
  • If Pernille saw my homeadults, would she be able to share I had a great day?
  • Did I show kindness to someone today?
  • Did I try my best, even when it was hard?
  • Did I include others or make them feel welcome?
  • Did I keep my promises?
  • Did I share something with someone?
  • Did I find something to be proud of?
  • Did I use my time well?
  • Did I notice someone who needed help and offer it?
  • Did I take care of the classroom or school environment?
  • Did I bring good energy to our class today?
  • Did I learn something new about myself or someone else?
  • Did I stay curious and open to ideas?
  • Did I make today better for myself and others?

I usually pick 5-7 depending on the day and I remind the students that they don’t have to share their answers. That this is just for them. At the end, I say the same thing: “And if your answer was no to any of these, then remember that tomorrow is a new day.” The students say it with me, not because I asked them to, but because this is how we end the day. And then we say goodbye.

On Friday’s we say “And if your answer was no to any of these, then remember that Monday starts a new week.” But in Danish, of course.

The students remind me if I am about to forget doing this with them. They take pride both in the days where they can say yes to everything, but also in the days where they reflect and realize that tomorrow is a new day and that they are not defined by their goofy choices. It helps me center the day too, because even in the wackiest of days – and trust me, we have had some that have made me cry due to fights, and awful behavior – there are kids doing good things. We, as a community, are doing good things.

So often community is built in the small moments, in the quiet reflection, so I thought I would offer this up to boost your own practice.

being a teacher, Reading, Reading Identity

Using Self-Compassion to Help Readers Grow

Another post first shared on Patreon, but one that is oh so relevant as we continue to attempt to build meaningful reading relationships.

I came across a fascinating article that discussed the three pillars of self-compassion and how actively developing it can help us alleviate anxiety and depression. Immediately, my mind jumped to reading identity and overall school affinity for students. How does self-compassion and seeing your own worth tie in with how we develop and what we are willing to try?

So I have a few ideas for how we can take this work and bring it into our classrooms as a part of what we already do. In my experience, some kids who hate reading have this reaction because of how reading makes them feel; worthless, and so when we focus on developing self-compassion, they can sometimes shift their mindsets into one of awe rather than disappointment.

Reading is an incredibly complex brain capability. It is not something that just happens, but something we have to train our brain to do, thus the need for specific reading skills teaching, as well as positive reading experiences. When kids don’t develop as easily as they see others do, they often turn that inward, seeing themselves as less-than, rather than recognizing that many components need to be in place to develop as a reader and that we inherently develop at different speeds. And we can try to speak this out of existence, but we all know that ultimately the deeper realization needs to come from the child themselves.

Adding these ideas into the reading conferring that hopefully is happening provides us with an opportunity to dig deeper into how kids view themselves as readers, and the next steps they can take in their journey. So it is not that it is one more thing to do, but rather a new lens and line of questioning we can explore with those kiddos who despite all our attempts still hate reading.

I use a lot of surveys with kids in order to see how they view themselves as readers. My beginning of the year one – which can be used any time – can be accessed here  but sometimes a quick survey like this one can also be a great way to check in and deepen conversations.

I would love to know your thoughts on this. Do we even have time for this? How do we make the time? What are the conversations we can have with kids that help them take over the ownership of their reading development?