Don't do it. They're just a fad. It's not going to be meaningful.

"Hey Stevens, I have a 3D printer and I'm doing a fidget toy lesson plan next week. Wanna help me out?"

​Sure. Let's do this. But if I'm going to do it, I want to be mindful of how and why​.

The Integrated-II teacher who reached out to me is a gamer anyways, so he didn't really need my help, but he asked and I said yes. All that meant to me was that I needed to get to work.

With a couple days and some patience, I came up with a lesson plan that went along with the handout. The goal was to design a lesson that didn't get too deep into the hysteria of the "what's popular now" and more into the math of why things succeed and why they fail.

​There was some fair pushback:

To answer your question, Dan, no. Fidget spinners will certainly outlast math's desire to stay in sync with its popularity, and I'm OK with that. Just like everything else before it, spinners are popular because they're fun, they're new, and they're engaging. Meanwhile, math has a hard time being any of those three, let alone all of them together. Fidget spinners will fade into the abyss and something new will come along, no doubt.

The latest fad doesn't need math's help to stay exciting, and I'm not lobbying for it to do so. What I am lobbying for is for kids to have an opportunity to:

• Take ownership and design their own
• Understand why some designs don't work
• Understand why other designs work better
• Help kids figure out why they cost so darned much
• Relate their current interest to a course they're already in
• Use 3D printing (or any form of creation) to make a design into reality

Is this a cheap shot? I don't think so. People (including me) gripe about the cost of products on Etsy, or handmade fashions, all the time. Little do they know how much time and energy the one-off products take. "Oh that's OK, I'll just print a bunch of them and it'll be all good." This is great, as long as you have people lining up to buy.

On a personal level, this is turning into a lesson on perseverance. I erroneously measured the bearings to be 5/8" and they are really 7/8", so I'm going back to the printer to try again. While it was a boneheaded move, it's one that I know kids are going to make... no, that's not why I made it.

Happy "Giving In" Fishing

Recently, a friend and a great person posted something about feeling like a subpar teacher. Truth be told, I don't know how good of a teacher he is, how strong he is with his content, or what kinds of interactions he has with his colleagues in person.

What I do know is that he works tirelessly to create a safe space for his students, constantly looks for new ways to improve his craft, and is incredible reflective about his work.

With that, I feel like it's necessary to say that it's OK to give yourself permission to...

It's been well documented that Twitter creates a perception that everyone online is always doing phenomenal work. After all, why would we put anything but our best selves forward for the world to see? 

Do you feel like you are inadequate compared to what you see? Flexible seating, engaging lessons, makerspaces and virtual reality and robots?

Truth be told, those same folks who have an opportunity to do those things are also doing normal things. Less than amazing things. Boring things. Give yourself permission to be that from time to time.

Have you read the latest blog post from that really amazing teacher? No? WHY NOT?!

Have you figured out that new tool that everyone is talking about? No? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!

​Are you flipping your class, using vertical non-permanent surfaces, and engaging your students with technology? No? Geez, I don't know what to say.

​I'm so happy that the MTBoS search engine exists as a place for people to find new ideas, that Twitter is there to provide a spark of innovation, and that a myriad of other avenues make collaboration possible.

How many times have you turned it off and stepped away for a bit, just to focus on you? Recently, I got so fed up with trying to keep up; the election results, the ways in which the world was changing, and seeing tons of new ideas come out. Therefore, I shut it down and focused on me. Yes, it helped that I was distracted with writing a book, but it would've happened either way.

​If you don't take time to take care of you, nobody will. Step away.

Seriously. When's the last time you took a day for you?

Sure, you have lesson plans, grading, testing coming up, and the end of the year to worry about. But when have you taken the time to enjoy one of the perks of your job?

In most districts, you can amass sick time and personal necessity, having it roll over from year to year. It's almost a badge of honor to accrue hundreds of hours, so proud of your dedication to the craft. After all, we get summers, holidays, and major breaks, so why would we need to take extras?

Because we need to. This job--this profession--is exhausting. This time of year, you have that student who has checked out and nothing you seem to come up with can convince her that she's wrong. You have that student who has been digging at you all year and has finally found his way under your skin. This time of year is hard; if you have time, proudly take a day to come up for air.

Call a friend, pull in a colleague, reach out on Twitter, or slide into the booth at your favorite diner and start a conversation. What's something you could use a little help with? If you can't think of anything, keep thinking. Make something up if you have to, but find a way to come up with an area of desired support.

By our very nature, people want to help. The vast majority of us want to be helped, but simply don't know how to ask. Start with something small, something you might think is mundane at the time, and go from there. It's quite liberating to ask for help and receive it.

I give you permission to be you, the whole you, and nothing but the you that you know you can be. Here's to hoping that you can do the same.

​Happy "Self Care" Fishing