Kicking off Round II: Creating the Learning Space

For a variety of reasons, my blog entries during my first year of teaching were sparse at best. In actuality, paucity of posts presents as much commentary on my experience as anything I might have written. While I began last year with the best of intentions, I allowed myself to be carried away by a cacophony of currents pulling me so many directions I could barely catch my breath, let alone keep a detailed chronicle of my experiences in the classroom.

Now, after a summer appreciated more than any summer in my life, I return to the classroom a bit wiser. Realistic expectations do much for preserving ones sanity, and now I think I have a better idea of what to expect of my students, and what to expect of myself. Perhaps most importantly, I'm committed to being at peace with whatever comes. Certainly I'll do all I can, make the most of every opportunity, but then I'll make myself sit back and remember I can't do everything, can't be everywhere, can't solve every student's life problems. In so doing, I'll preserve my physical and mental health much more effectively than I did last year.

Another important lesson I learned last year is the importance of the physical learning space. From the moment they walked through the door, my students were studying, learning, apprehending--not about the ancient civilization I was trying to teach about, so much as about me, what I valued, how I felt about them, and what kind of learning space I had provided for them. Now, I tried to create a welcoming classroom last year, but somehow it fell short:

My "Historical Thinking" Posters Not much color on the walls...

It wasn't bad, but it lacked something--something I couldn't put my finger on until around about mid-April, when a sweet young sixth grader raised her hand and said "Mr. Douglas, why isn't your classroom decorated all fun like Ms. So-and-so's?"

I don't remember exactly what I said to her. Part of me wanted to say "Hey, we're here to work, not to have fun," but that wouldn't fly with a sixth grader, and it's not entirely true anyway. I realized that the appearance of my room sent an array of powerful messages to my students. How, then, could I use the walls to communicate that my classroom is a safe place, a place of learning, a place of engagement, a place in which they are welcome with all of their ideas?

So, as the beginning of the new school year approached, I descended on my room with butcher paper, borders, posters, punch-out letters, and an entire arsenal of staples. Here is the result:

Here is the view as you step through the door (the blank space on the left will be filled with class rules and vocabulary words).


My map corner


Student work will go here .






The back wall, blue and calming (with a reminder to smile posted above the door).





Punch out letters, so useful.


One may not appreciate the full effect of the transformation without seeing my entire room as it was--the picture I provided from last year really isn't sufficient. My former students certainly noticed it; today, as students returned from summer vacation, several students from last year came by to say hello and almost thought they were in the wrong room. One even accused me of caring more for this year's students, as evidenced by the decoration. Not so, I told him--but I do hope that at least some of this year's students recognize that what they see in the learning space I provide is a token of my caring for them.