As a new semester that promises to look quite different from the others approaches, I'm finding that blog posts are getting nudged down the list in favor of class preparation. On Thursdays, I've been taking advantage of voluntary virtual work days that put me in touch with my colleagues but set the mental expectation that today is a day to get things done.
As I prepare to teach in a hybrid fashion, flexibility is, indeed, the name of the game -- which brings me to today's post.
What I said then:
One of the things I like best about organizing by STYLE is its flexibility. Don't like binders? Try an accordion folder. Not a fan of the file cabinet? Use individual standing file holders. Have a tendency to cram and jam or put things in a "safe place"? Choose storage that supports what you do naturally -- flexible and/or see-through containers -- instead of "shoulding" yourself into using a traditional tool that frustrates you.
Another benefit of the flexibility of this method is that it automatically lends itself to change. No matter how perfect the system, it needs to be dynamic in order to meet changing demands, uses and time constraints.
Case in point: my school stuff. Each semester, I have things to sort, store and carry back and forth. Old faithful tools -- my planner, which doubles as a lesson plan book, my pencil case loaded with writing implements and office supplies, my pocket folder that houses reference materials for each class -- form the foundation. From there, I add tweaks and tools to fill any gaps that arise.
A few semesters ago, I added a clipboard to my arsenal of supplies. It came in handy during the first few weeks of class, providing a place to house rosters and seating charts as I learned my students' names, and then I set it aside. Over time, the clipboard has earned its keep, playing a role in my attendance-taking, thanks to a the online system my college has adopted. In addition, I added a single sheet of paper to my clipboard, one that summarizes my schedule and appointments for the week. It's amazing what a big difference that small change has made in bridging the gap between my school schedule and my home schedule. One piece of paper has combined my to-do lists, and appointments for two parts of my life, uniting two separate pieces of the same puzzle.
Finding a tool that works is wonderful. Finding one that will grow with the demands and changes of daily life is even better. While it's tempting to wish for a permanent solution to our organizational needs, finding ways to adapt and adjust not only refines our systems, but our overall organizational skills as well. And, since a stagnant life would be a boring life, we might just have to adjust to the one true rule of organization.
It's a process.
What I think now:
As I transition into a part online/part face-to-face semester, I'm still figuring out what tools I'll need to take with me. My planner/plan book is a definite yes and has already been pressed into service as I figure out due dates and lay out my course calendars. My week-at-a-glance pages look different in the summer (I've purchased a variety of styles over the years) as there is less going on, but they are a centerpiece year-round for home and school, and will take up residence on my clipboard so I have them handy whether I'm working online from home or face-to-face at school.
In addition, I'm also using some reference tools right now that I expect will help me to stay organized as I move into the semester. The binder I created last semester is serving as the foundation for two of my courses, and an accordion folder divided by unit topic is serving a similar purpose for my third class. When I need more space for planning than my planner provides, I use a lesson plan book with squares big enough for brainstorming.
This semester promises to be quite different from the ones before it. While I know some of my old tools will survive the transition, I'm sure my styles will lead the way toward new ones as well. After all, who could have predicted that I'd be beholden to a binder last spring?
Certainly not me.