Are You My Mother?

One of my earliest reading memories is reading the book Are You My Mother? with my own personal mom. It's written and illustrated by P.D. Eastman, and it was published in 1960. It must have been a book that was passed down to us from older cousins, but gosh it was one of my favourites!

If you're not familiar with the story, a little baby bird is just about to hatch when his mother goes off to find him some food. When he hatches, his mother is still away, and the little bird goes all around his area, hopefully asking everything that he sees, "Are you my mother?" After meeting a kitten, a hen, a dog, a cow, a boat, a plane, and a 'snort,' the little bird finally meets his mother and all is right again.

When I first started teaching, I felt just like the baby bird. Looking from one teaching resource to the next, asking (internally of course) "Are you my mother?" The resources never answered back to me, thank goodness - but that feeling of searching for the right fit persisted. I wanted to find that magical resource, the thing that would make sense to me and make learning easier for my students. I found some very high-quality resources along the way, things that are evidence based and super helpful for both teacher and students. But I was still left feeling that something was missing.

I've also felt this way in advocating for students. Always looking towards the next specialist visit, or assessment tool, or strategic support, again asking that same hopeful "Are you my mother?" And again, often feeling that same feeling of 'not enough.' People that work in education are my absolute heroes, it takes immense amounts of hope and bravery to continue to be our best for the people that we serve in the face of constant lack and messages of 'not enough.' The problem, of course, is that good, true learning was never meant to be done in isolation. There was never going to be one solution that fixed all problems, no teacher or specialist who knew it all, no strategy that made everything perfect.

Learning is such a distinctly human goal - who else but humans would look up into the night sky and endeavor to learn all they could about it? Who else but humans looks at an unending expanse of ocean and wonders what's past the horizon?

Being a part of a curious community that's comfortable with trying, and failing, and trying again; this is what make great learners. That feeling of finding community is what I imagine the baby bird felt when he finally found his mom - safe. Safe to grow, safe to take risks, safe to come back to the nest. When we work as a team of adults to surround learners, when we have collaboration between home and school, we are actually building a community that is specifically designed to support learning. Parents, teachers, specialists, family members, we all have great insights into our learners - and we were never meant to do any of the hard work of learning alone.

I have some wonders to wrap up:

I wonder if there is a person that you want to call into your learners' community?

I wonder who makes that struggling learner feel safe?

I wonder who may be waiting to be asked the question; what are your aspirations for this learner?

I wonder who may also be feeling like they're doing this work of education alone?