Before You Plan a Single Lesson...

At some point in August, the school year begins to feel real. I don’t know why, really. I mean, August is SOLIDLY summer in my neck of the woods, but for some reason every year I start thinking about fall. (This year I’m even thinking about the fall sweaters I want to knit!)

Even if your first day of school is weeks away, your mind starts to turn toward lesson plans, classroom preparation, and the long list of things you hope to accomplish before the children arrive.

The temptation is to begin with the curriculum. Because, yeah, that’s the fun part. (If my younger self knew how much absolute delight I get from lesson planning, she would do some big-time eye-rolling.)

And it doesn’t hurt that I’ve got a thing for stationery. I mean, the joy of opening the planner. Finding the stories. Taking notes with my favorite fountain pen. Sounds like a delightful way to spend a too-hot summer afternoon.

But over the years, I’ve found that my best planning rarely begins there.

Instead, I come back to three relationships that shape everything else: my relationship with the children, my relationship with their families, and my relationship with myself as a teacher.

Begin with the children.

Before I write a single lesson, I write out my class list.

As I write their names, I spend a few quiet minutes with each child.

Sometimes I simply write their name. Sometimes I jot down a memory from the previous year, something they loved, a challenge they were working through, or a question I’m carrying about what they might need this year.

The notes themselves aren’t particularly important.

What matters is the time. In the same way that writing out my story each day gives me time to slow down and live into the images and enliven my own imagination, these notes bring the child to life for me.

Those few minutes help me build a living picture of each child again. When I begin planning after doing this, the lessons no longer feel like something I’m creating for an imaginary class. They are written for these particular children.

That changes everything.

Then think about the families.

Every child arrives surrounded by a family who is placing an incredible amount of trust in us.

As teachers, our primary work is with the children, but that work is possible because of the relationship we build with their families.

Before the year begins, I like to ask myself a few simple questions:

• Which families may need extra reassurance?

• Who might appreciate a phone call instead of another email?

• Who would love to have a meaningful role in the life of the classroom?

• How can I help each family feel connected to our community?

I don’t have perfect answers to those questions, and I certainly can’t meet every need perfectly.

But asking the questions and thinking deeply about the families’ needs is a powerful way to start the year.

Finally, prepare your future self.

We often think of teacher self-care as something we do outside of school.

A new notebook. A favorite cup of coffee. A haircut before the first day.

And those things certainly have their place. (Who doesn’t love starting the year with a new do?)

But I’ve found that the greatest gift I can give myself is creating rhythms and systems that will support me long after the fresh new start of September has faded.

Of course, I think about my planner and the physical items that will help me create structure and rhythms in my life. But I also think about the practices and structures that already exist, and then build new routines around them.

Things like making a big pot of soup on Sunday so you’ve got lunches all week. Or planning to go to the local burrito place on Tuesdays because that’s cello lesson night.

Find the household rhythms that make busy weeks feel manageable.

Because here’s the thing, I think burnout isn’t about having too much to do.

It’s usually about having no predictable rhythm in which to do it. When tasks come at you fast and furious and somewhat randomly, it’s stressful. When we can plan for them, anything’s possible.

Don’t let cello night surprise you . . . every single week.

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This week, take fifteen or twenty quiet minutes and create three simple lists:

• your class list, with a few notes about each child

• your family list, with one intention for connecting with each family

• a list of three rhythms or systems that will support you throughout the school year

You don’t need to solve every problem before school begins.

Come share them in the comments of this post. Let’s give each other ideas for the little structures and rhythms we can create to get the year started right.