This afternoon, I had a great conversation with my wife, who is a Civics and Economics teacher (she teaches Psychology, too, though that didn't enter into our conversation).  She's taught C&E for nearly 8 years -- 3 times a day, 2 semesters a year -- which amounts to having taught the same class almost 50 times. 

God, grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I can't change, 
courage to change the things I can, 
and wisdom to know the difference. 

A very animated conversation in class today about the meaning of school left many students excited, but just as many frustrated.  The students generally divided between two positions.  Some said that school was boring, inhibited creativity, and we should Definitely Do Something About This.  The other group, generally speaking, also expressed frustration with the structure of school, but thought we should keep our heads down, mouth shut, and do what whomever in charge told us to do, because it wasn't going to make any difference anyway.

In a post-class tweet convo with Cheryl and Brian Bennett, I recalled the Serenity Prayer, and was surprised and gratified by the obvious applications to our in-class discussion. 

Some kids wanted us to Accept The Things We Cannot Change. 

Some wanted Courage to Change The Things They Can.  

I want wisdom to know the difference. Because contained within the kernel of this prayer and this conversation is also the inverse principle: if we can change they way things are, we have the responsibility to try to do so. 

And the way these things change is teaching students to not necessarily accept the status quo.  In pushing them outside their bubbles. In teaching them how to disagree in a non-confrontational manner--to disagree without screaming or hating your opponent. And by teaching kids to think for themselves. 

Over the past couple weeks, I have engaged with what Seth Godin calls the Dip-- and what Cheryl and I call The Wall.  A lull, a hard stretch, a seemingly immovable object standing between me and Real Flipclass Funtimes. 

There are many reasons for this, among them my natural inclination for Not Much Structure as well as a very full life.

I have also, however, engaged in multiple conversations with Cheryl, as well as Karl, Brian, and Crystal, with respect to these difficulties.

And the conclusion we've come to is not particularly glamorous, but it needs to be shared:

Flipclass is hard. 

We don't want to lie to the wide world about it -- it's not a panacea. It's a step. And it's a very difficult step.

It's difficult for the students, who have had everything they've ever learned about playing school in the last 11 years ripped away from them (in just one class, mind you).

It's difficult for the teachers, too-- the building of infrastructure, finding the balance between giving kids freedom to follow their passions and making sure that they are actually learning how to read and write and think in a powerful, critical kind of way. 

What the Theory of the Wall says (which echoes Godin) is that better things lie on the other side of the Wall (the Dip), and the reason that not many people are able to enjoy wild successes in their (professional and "real") lives is that most people don't have the fortitude and patience and support from friends and colleagues to ride out the Dip and break through the Wall. 

So thank you to those people who have shared experiences that echo my own--difficulties with student engagement, student buy-in, exhaustion and eyes-crossing-at-the-computer-screen-late-at-night kinds of work. 

The Wall is breaking. And it's because of you all.