I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions.

I’ve gone through the motions in the past, trying to set goals and get excited about the new year, new ____! But they’ve always seemed somewhat hollow – people declaring they’ll give up a habit as strongly rooted as an addiction, or master a skill that others spend their lifetimes honing, just generally promising a complete transformation in who they are and who they have been. It’s not that resolutions are not admirable, or important, and I’m glad that there is a cultural tradition that encourages people to think positively and move forward with goals in mind. I’m just not good at them. 

For one thing, being a teacher, the year doesn’t start on January 1st, for me. It starts in September, and my reflections and resolutions are continual, year-long practices. Also, the goals I do set rarely resemble the specific, measurable – dare I say, S.M.A.R.T.? – goals encouraged by everyone from lifestyle bloggers to Department of Education administrators. My fuzzy goals should not yield success, but generally I find I make more progress with a vague resolution (“I’m going to write more” = this blog not being totally abandoned) than with a clear, specific goal (“I’ll write for 15 minutes each day” = I’ll write once in my brand new notebook and then accrue daily guilt over not writing in it ever again). This approach isn’t really conducive to sharing New Year’s resolutions; when people say “What are you going to do this year?” all I can really think to say is, “Better.” 

But even though I’m not great at resolutions, I do believe in reflection and improvement. So, I’m making some New Year’s resolutions for my classroom.

I will remember to have fun. Not every day. The notion that every single lesson of every single day can be “dynamite,” as they say in New York City, is a foolish one, I believe. Learning can and should look differently, happen differently, as befits content, mood, class size, etc. But I’m resolving to have fun with my students, even if it’s only for a few moments in a class, because I’ve seen the positive effects of fun. I know that when we’re enjoying ourselves, we all feel better, more connected to the class and one another. I know my students remember more when there is room for fun, and that they’re more motivated, and want to come back again. I have the students that I have. They are struggling with a lot, their lives outside of school are rarely stable, and they are more aware than I was at their age of how easy it is to walk out of the door. I want them to know that coming to school is important, but I also want them to know it is enjoyable. I’m resolving to do my part in communicating that.

I will step out of the center. I generally run a student-centered ship. That phrase has become buzzy in recent months, but it’s true. I try to put a lot onto my students, to make their voices and questions and choices a large part of the direction of our class. Looking back on the past 4 months, I see that I haven’t done as much of that as I feel needs to be done. It’s easy to be pressured to make things look good, or to “help” too much. But I’m resolving to step back this semester. I’m revisiting our lessons on questioning, and I’m going to check in with my students more. Most importantly, I’m going to listen to feedback and adapt accordingly, even if that means moving more slowly or changing direction. I’m resolving to remember that I don’t teach English, or grammar, or To Kill a Mockingbird; I teach 11th grade students. 

I will make sure that we learn what matters. I know that there is an overwhelming and harmful focus on test scores in our education system. It enrages me, and it interferes with my job. And I can attend conferences with like-minded individuals, and share videos like this, and like articles on Facebook, and blog here about how a student is more than a test score. But that doesn’t help my students, the ones I have right now, understand that they are more than their test scores. So I’m resolving to stick to my guns and help my students discover what is valuable. That may be communicating through writing, or reading books that move them, or developing integrity, or telling a great story. I resolve to continue creating an environment where those things matter more than the state test.

I resolve to be kind. To my students, to my colleagues, to myself. I will make sure my students know that they can be themselves, be vulnerable, and be honest with me. I will not take out my frustration at the system, or at the teenage brain, on our classroom. I will not avoid colleagues who seek, or need, help. I will respect my own boundaries, though. I’m not going to surround myself with negativity, or indulge someone who disrespects me or my time. I will read what nurtures us, I will write when I can. I will be grateful, and share my gratitude. I will do what I want to do this year; I will do better.

What are your teacher resolutions? Share in the comments. Happy New Year!