faulker008

The GIR Model is a fluid description of how coaching changes over time. The way we apply it is contextualized and based upon the needs of the teacher we are coaching. Every teacher is different, so as we plan for support, we keep in mind what we have learned along the way about that teacher’s needs. I was reminded of the importance of keeping these needs in mind as I met with Cindy this week. Cindy is a very hard worker. She is pleasant, loves her job, and wants to do what is best for kids. She wants to be better at what she does. And, quite honestly, she needs to be better at what she does. I’ve noticed, though, that Cindy takes feedback very personally; an insensitively-delivered comment can burst her happiness bubble and set her back for weeks. She can be very hard on herself. Knowing this influences how I use every single move on the GIR model. Because she needs it, I open every conversation with praise , and I usually close it the same way. But I know praise isn’t going to inspir...

Usually, I talk with mentors and coaches about the meandering walk they take among the coaching moves. Although one move is usually dominant at any given point in the coaching cycle, often two or more coaching moves are part of the scaffolding being provided. A recommendation might be followed up with a question that helps the teacher to make a strategy her own, for example. But at times it’s important to intentionally let go – completely – of a coaching move that has held on for too long. This week I talked with Leslie, a coach who is working with an over-reliant teacher. Marie sought recommendations frequently, even though Leslie felt this teacher was more than ready to go it on her own. Leslie decided it was time to call off the recommending. When the teacher texted and said, “You haven’t given me any recommendations about.....,” Leslie replied simply, “I know.” Marie texted back, “Oh, okay.” And then Marie went about designing the lesson. When Leslie told me the story, she said, “M...

As April’s mid-point passes and the final stretch of the school year is in sight, we begin thinking about how we will wrap up the school year. I like that phrase, “wrapping up” because it can bring to mind not just finishing, but packaging, beautifying, and then giving a gift. In a coaching cycle, the “wrapping up” includes plenty of opportunities for teachers to share their own thinking as they demonstrate their growing aptitude with instructional decision-making. Because coaches are experienced folks with lots of successful ideas, it is easy to make recommendations when meeting with teachers. And often, especially with new strategies or new teachers, that is just the right thing to do. But when we over-rely on this mentoring move, we sometimes rob the teacher we are working with of the opportunity to expand her own thinking and increase the responsibility she is taking for instructional decision-making. It is easy to recommend too long. This week, I caught myself wanting to make reco...

As educators, we are all too familiar with the pendulum swing – not what happens in a clock, but what happens in our schools as the winds of change blow one direction and then back again. Is it whole language or phonics? Open classrooms or graded? Creativity or scripted lessons? The role of praise has also been victim of the pendulum swing. My sense is that, with this issue like most others, best practice lies somewhere in the middle. Aristotle, I think, had the right idea when he suggested moderation in all things. The positive parenting movement of the late 80’s that was supposed to boost self-esteem has given way to warnings about the evils of praise. And those warnings have extended beyond parenting to other interactions, like coaching. We certainly don’t want to create “praise junkies,” but neither do we want to withhold warranted adulation. We don’t want to reduce internal motivation by offering an external motivator. We don’t want our praise to feel manipulative, but neither do ...

When I was a child, my friends and I regularly played the game, “Mother May I?” Although I don’t remember all the rules (they probably changed as we went along!), I know we had to make our way across the room with steps of different sizes. “Mother, may I take two giant steps?” we’d ask the mother designee. “Yes, you may,” was the answer she’d give, and then we’d stride forward. For some reason, we also had to include baby steps in the game, closing the gap little-by-little to reaching our objective. I’ve been thinking this week about the role of baby steps in coaching. I met with a teacher who truly wants to improve the discussions in her classroom, but she has quite a distance to travel. The change that is needed felt daunting to me, and I sensed that if I shared all the things I’d been thinking about in terms of improving class discussions, the teacher would become overwhelmed. What she needed, I thought, was baby steps to move her in the right direction. So I suggested a very concre...