This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Christa Miller

When I was asked to be part of a ripple group, I really didn’t know what to expect, but knowing that it was with an amazing group of educators, I embraced the opportunity.  Our first four sessions with the initial group were with teachers I didn’t know well.  Over the course of the sessions, we discussed agency and worked to define it for ourselves.  Agency was the core value of the Fluency Project that I struggled with the most, as I didn’t feel I had a true understanding of it.
  
Over the course of our discussions, I felt like I truly came to own the definition of agency.  Not only did I understand it, but I was ready to own it, defend it, and make sure it was developed in my students.  It was wonderful hearing all of the different perspectives and contributions from others.  

After the initial group, my first ripple group began.  I gathered a group of 6 passionate educators that were on board with having a conversation about wonder.  Wonder is what stuck with me after my first group on agency.  Wonder in the classroom is so powerful.  To me, allowing students to wonder and to explore those wonders passionately is what defines student agency.  Our conversations were great, inspiring, and thought provoking.  We discussed the idea of authentic wonder, as opposed to a one size fits all type wonder.  It was certainly great food for thought.

“Ripple groups” were a great description for what happened.  From my group, more groups were formed.  Each person of my group joined in a conversation with even more people with conversations around the same topic. This grassroots movement began to take effect as one person talked to one group and those people spread the word to others who in turn spread it even further.  It was inspiring to see how the conversation continued to ripple out.  

After my group, I joined another group, and then another.  Before long, the initial group of six led to focused conversations among well over one hundreds educators.  From the conversation, passion and ideas were grown.  People became excited about the power of agency and wonder and the potential of growing it in our students. 

From the groups, I know of a few school-wide conversations that were held.  So now, these ideas are flowing through entire buildings.  Out of our groups, I also built relationships and found allies.  I now have a group of second grade teachers that I regularly text for ideas, encouragement, and camaraderie. I also developed stronger relationships with teachers in my building by having these open conversations with them.  My co-teacher, Heather, and I are beginning a student study focused on wonder next week. The ripple effect of our initial group grew much wider and much stronger than I ever envisioned. 

Christa Miller graduated from West Liberty University in 2005 with a major in Elementary Education.  She later pursued her masters from West Virginia University. After spending a few years as a substitute, teaching a wide variety of subjects and grade levels, she began her full-time career as a teacher at Warwood School in 2010, teaching 1 st  grade.  Christa currently teaches 2 nd  grade.  Christa is National Board Certified and constantly seeks out ways to learn and grow. Christa currently is a member of Cohort 4 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab (situated in Carnegie Mellon University). Christa’s special interests include traveling, running, and spending time with her family.

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Anna Malone

Each of us has a story, an amalgamation of experiences spun together to create a unique lens that is undeniably our own. When one person takes the courage to open up, sharing their vulnerabilities and strengths, we grow collectively, deeply, and authentically. Learning about the life of another opens our worldview, challenges our thinking, and illuminates new pathways previously unreachable. This process can take place in our households, churches, and social circles as well as our classrooms if we as educators foster a conducive, safe environment.

In my first year as a Graduate Assistant (GA) in the Teacher Education Program at West Liberty University, I collaborated with Gabrielle Burriss, then also a GA for the Teacher Education Program, and Dr. Sarah Schimmel, Teacher Education Program Director, to redesign the undergraduate course Instructional Technology to better suit the needs of current pre-service teachers. We decided to introduce the students to video editing and reflection, two critical skills needed for the summative assessment during residency, and task them with creating a video that explains why they would like to become an educator.

In co-teaching this course, I was cordial to students, making small talk before class began, often about The Bachelor, of which we had a love hate relationship; however, I simply did not know them very well. What started as one assignment, a five-minute video, ended up teaching me more about these pre-service teachers than any conversation ever could.

While watching their videos, I was amazed by the authenticity, depth, and creativity on display by each individual; their voices were filled with passion, hope, and optimism as they spoke of the teachers who inspired them, becoming the role model they did not have, their volunteer experiences that turned into a career path, and more. One student discussed their transition from the military to civilian life as a parent, while another spoke of the positive impact of being adopted. Yet another student recounted experiences with the inequity and racial divide of school districts in their hometown.

I came to understand that each individual sitting in this class has a powerful voice. It was not my original intention; my objective was increasing exposure to filming, editing, and reflecting to prepare them for an assessment down the road. I am so thankful, however, that the results were much more significant because I learned a great deal about the importance of increasing student voice in the classroom that have left an indelible impression on my heart. Additionally, I am grateful to be a part of a group such as the Fluency Project cohort that fosters voice and inquiry amongst professionals and students.

Links to Example Videos:
Video 1
Video 2

Anna Malone is currently a second-year graduate student in the M.A.Ed. Reading Specialist program at West Liberty University. She also works as a Graduate Assistant in the Teacher Education Program at WLU and a substitute teacher with Ohio County Schools. Anna graduated from WLU with her Bachelor’s in Elementary Education with minors in special education and early childhood education in 2019. She is a member of Cohort 3 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab (situated in Carnegie Mellon University). Anna’s special interests including spending time with family and spoiling her niece and nephews.

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Kristen Fischer

In this time of remote learning, as I sit in my empty classroom, heavily beige and completely windowless, it strikes me that I could really be sitting anywhere. Likewise, so could my students.

Where would I like to be, if geography, travel,  and other factors were not an issue? If I had no restrictions or obligations otherwise? Where would I go if I could teach from anywhere?

I allowed my mind to wander on this topic for a while, and realized that my choice—shared and justified—revealed a lot about me. Likewise, I predicted I could learn a good bit about my students by asking them that question: Where would you choose to learn from, if you could be learning from anywhere? So, I decided to ask my incoming 11th grade American Literature students that question as our opening writing activity. 

There was one more thing, though—I didn’t want to be the only audience for their thoughts. I wanted to be able to collect all of our answers on a map that all students could then access. I pictured a map full of pins and the option to click on any one of them to learn about the person who put it there and why. 

With the help of Jess Kaminsky, I figured out how to make it happen with a Google Map; now, I have a map with an array of student posts, each with some media like a picture. And, not only have I learned about the students’ learning preferences and favorite places, but they have connected with each other in this way, too. The final part of the assignment involved reflecting on the map after browsing the pins and posts. Students recognized the quirky thinkers who want to learn from a zoo, and the introverts who want to learn in the mountains—or from the top of one; students recognized the beach-lovers, who want the white noise of the waves and warmth of the sand, and the adventurers, who want to work by day but hike glaciers or watch the aurora borealis by night. 
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Teaching remotely has presented no shortage of challenges, constraints, and disappointments; lots of outcomes have fallen short of my visions and what used to be easy (showing a dvd! performing scenes from a play! jigsaws!) present unexpected and sometimes bewildering difficulties. However, in some cases, I’ve created activities and adapted assignments that I’m really happy with—activities and assignments that are better than their predecessors, and only emerged due to this unique set of circumstances.
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It’s these successes that are more important than ever to recognize, and reflecting on this one reinforces to me the value of learning opportunities rooted in authentic experiences and authentic questions. Sometimes, the debates I’m having in my head or the questions I’m asking myself are great inspiration for classroom inquiry.

Kristen Fischer teaches English (and electives including Photojournalism) at Carlynton Junior-Senior High School in Carnegie, Pennsylvania, where she also coaches track & field, especially triple jumpers. She is a graduate of Clarion University and Georgetown University, and a member of Cohort 1 of the Fluency Project. She enjoys biking and hiking, especially when joined by her husband and three kids. 

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Autumn Troullos 

As part of the Fluency Project and having gone through the National Board process, I have discovered that good practices look the same in each platform.  What is different is the person I am at each moment in time.  The National Board process planted the seeds for reflection; the importance of knowing my students; setting goals, evaluating my progress, then setting new goals.  Through Fluency I was able to look through the lens of educators who taught students and subjects far different than mine and use strategies I had not imagined in my own corner of the world. During the spring the connections I made launched me to another level as I worked with my Fluency colleague Jess Kaminsky to co-write a blog which inspired workshops co-hosted along with MaryLu Hutchins entitled #thenewhomeroom.  To date we have recorded or scheduled five (!) different versions!  I am so thankful for each opportunity that I have been given as each one is a fresh chance for me to grow upon the work I have already done.

Being the oldest of three children, I have always considered myself a natural teacher. I thrived on helping others in and out of my home on all things academic. Instinctively I knew the content but I also knew the stories of my “students.” I knew what worked to motivate each one to do better-- for my brother it was shaming his laziness (Definitely not a good practice, but I was a child!) and for my sister it was praise because even attaining “average” was a struggle for her. In all seriousness, though, I understood that I needed to have knowledge of each individual person in order to try and help each one. 

Fast forward several to my teaching career and my bright idea to go through the process to become a National Board Certified Teacher. It was there that I received confirmation that, yes indeed, knowledge of students is the gold standard for accomplished teaching. Being a math teacher with no wiggle room for anything that was not math, I knew my kids as best as I could (or so I thought) through some interest inventories administered at the start of the school year, paying attention to who was involved in what activities outside of class, and listening to my guidance counselor give valuable information about students having traumatic experiences. The best information came from my best friend and coworker, who happened to be the Reading/Language Arts teacher. She always had the best, most intimate details about students through journal entries, class discussions, and essays. I was so jealous that she could work that into her content so easily and seamlessly. Although I was thankful she shared such information so I could know and understand my students, it did not feel authentic.  They were not sharing that delicate material with ME.  I received it secondhand and I felt like an eavesdropper. But because of the tremendous pressure I felt as a math teacher to have students achieve their very best, I could not justify taking precious class time to ask these questions myself. 

Nope, I could not spare any time at all getting to know my students and allowing them to get to know me because I could definitely teach so much more by utilizing every second of my class time for math. That is, until I was invited to join the Fluency Project. I began talking to other teachers from different subjects, different grades, and different states. I talked to people who were not classroom teachers, but were vested in education. The energy and inspiration I acquired just from one day every other month was invaluable to me and my students. I spent a year pouring over National Board standards, videotaping my classes, writing papers upon papers after analyzing every single breath I took, but that was not as powerful to me as the Fluency Project. 

Through the Fluency Project I learned from teachers who took the time to genuinely know their entire students, not just who they are academically. That’s right--I took CLASS TIME (!) to talk with my students about what was going on in life, how they were doing, and the like.  I allowed myself and my students to breathe and acknowledge that we are humans with feelings, ideas, and worries that did not revolve around math. Through our communications, my students started to see me as a real person, too.  With all my imperfections, worries, shortcomings, and trauma that I shared with them, I allowed myself to be vulnerable. This was the most powerful strategy I have ever used in my room. Genuinely developing communication between me and my students, and although it took a little time from math class, the positive return on OUR learning was extraordinary. 

Take for instance Declan*. He was new to the district and did not come with a glowing reputation. It took some time, but Declan let his guard down and told me all about his absent mother, his love of hunting, his desire to be a runner and to own his own garage where he fixes cars when he grows up. Declan spent time in a juvenile detention center at the beginning of the year for crimes he committed the previous spring.  In preparation for his time away, he asked me to give him extra math work so he didn’t fall behind while serving his time. He came back from the detention center and he fell right back into step in math class.  He actually was one of my best math students in the class. The following year he used his one elective class to sign up for my Mindfulness class. He put as much effort into mindfulness as he did math, and I could not have been any prouder of him. 

Michael* is another great example. Michael was nowhere on my radar for being at risk for anything negative at all. He had a loving and supportive family, great grades, and was very active in a baseball team outside school. He and I got along fine, but I didn’t realize the extent to which he grew to trust me. It wasn’t until I went to pay my utility bill that the man noticed my very uncommon last name and asked if I was a teacher.  A conversation followed and he told me that his neighbor, Michael, started loving school again because he really connected with his math teacher--me! 

Shayla* was a very quiet girl in school. She rarely contributed to any discussions and would never ask questions. Her work was far below average. No matter what approach I took, Shayla was not making much progress. So, I privately asked her to come up and have lunch with me one day. She revealed to me that she started falling behind in math around fifth grade because of a lot of turmoil at home.  She was always playing catch up and felt like she was always treading water in math because she was lacking a strong foundation. Shayla and I started having a working lunch together once a week so I could do some background work with her for the upcoming week. If she felt overwhelmed, she would slip me a note asking to come in and work some more, or ask for work to take home. To an outsider her grades may have looked mediocre at best, but she worked so hard for the grades she earned and we both were extremely proud of her progress.

I share these three stories although there are many times more successful stories just like these. Without the research shared, the people involved, and the support provided from the Fluency Project, my students and I would not have grown academically and humanly as much as we did.

I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to learn and share with other educators. The impact the Fluency Project had on me positively touched so many lives.  I am eagerly looking forward to the next opportunity in my life which will help me to grow.  

*Student names and identifying characteristics have been changed.

Autumn Troullos graduated from Ohio University’s Eastern campus in 2002 with a major in Middle Childhood Education (concentration in Math and Social Studies) and a minor in Mathematics.  Her Master’s degree in Instructional Communication was earned at WVU. She earned National Board Certification in 2013. Autumn began her career as a teacher at St. Mary Central.  From there she taught at Warwood School and Bridge Street Middle School in Ohio County. Currently she is teaching 8th grade Math and Mindfulness at Union Local Middle School.

Autumn has been engaged in researching mindfulness and its benefits and incorporating mindfulness into the classroom.  She has joined a National Board cohort as a mentor. Autumn currently is a member of Cohort 4 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab (situated in Carnegie Mellon University). Her special interests include yoga, reading, plants, learning, and her family.

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Heidi Hohman

Connections are how I make sense of the world.  I am an observer and an analyzer by nature.  It is what I do to process new ideas and challenges.  I find ways to link them to concepts, ideas, events and past experiences.  It pleases me when I find connections between the familiar and the unfamiliar.  It does not always happen, but when it does, life is good for me.

This summer I worked with many wonderful colleagues to prepare awareness and support sessions about the National Board Certification process through the West Virginia Department of Education.  It was a bit overwhelming to plan a virtual conference, but we were thrilled that over one hundred participants joined us to learn about this worthwhile undertaking.  The work these National Board candidates are pursuing is thoughtful and deep.  They will ponder their relationships with their students, their students' families, their colleagues and their communities.  They will question what they think they know about their students’ social and emotional levels and needs as well as their cognitive abilities and possibilities.  They will analyze their knowledge of the subject matter they teach and they will contemplate how they teach and why they teach the way they do.  They will make decisions for their students and then critically examine the results.  Candidates will monitor students’ learning and use their observations to inform future learning and teaching.  Many of them will come together with other educators and participate in cohorts to discuss their practices.  They will listen.  They will write and reflect.  At times they will feel challenged, overwhelmed, excited, confused, overjoyed, and ultimately changed by the process.  

The previous paragraph was about the work of the National Board, but I could have written it about The Data and Technology Fluency Project!  The similarities are uncanny.  Think about the work we have done through Fluency.  All of us are thoughtfully contemplating our practices, we are listening to one another and learning by participating in our Fluency community, and we are making changes to open the world to our students.  We are doing important work.  

Making connections brings me comfort and helps me move forward especially now in today’s world.  Perhaps my words will help you make a connection between the work of the National Board and the work you are already doing through Fluency.  I am wishing and hoping you will find connections and inspiration throughout the school year to come.        

Heidi Hohman is a graduate of West Liberty with a major in elementary education and a minor in general science.  She earned a Masters in reading from WVU. She began a career as a fourth grade teacher at St. Mary Central in Martins Ferry, spent 14 years teaching science at Triadelphia Middle School, and has seen her career come full circle as she returned to teaching fourth grade at Steenrod Elementary. Heidi renewed her National Board certification in 2018. She is currently a member of Cohort 3 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab.

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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Over the last few weeks, even more educators have grown #TheNewHomeroom project even bigger by adding their beliefs and dreams to this conversation (you can see previous additions to this work here and here). Teachers at a school district in Ohio and another in Pennsylvania joined this work during their first days back for the 2020-2021 school year, intentionally making time to breath, reflect, and vision together. Another group of educators collaborated across districts in August to build their version of #TheNewHomeroom. 

This group was unique in bringing together teachers across grade levels an across generations. One participant, now retired but still just as invested in education, joined alongside his former student who is an elementary teacher herself. It was a strong reminder of the legacy that we can build through education, and the collegiality that's critical to the health of educators. 

Below are the values and actions generated by this cross-district group in August for #TheNewHomeroom. Thank you to T~L Rogers, Laurie Ruberg, Eric Trio, Riley Carpenter, Lori Dougherty, Jordan Robinson, Isabella Droginske, Jonna Kuskey, Lou Volpe, Quenton North, Natalie Bigelow, and Rachel Miller for sharing your dreams for teaching and learning!  

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Natalie Bigelow

We are all someone’s Cinnamon Coffee.

As if last year wasn’t complicated, confusing, and challenging enough, many of us are entering the 2020-2021 school year facing more anxiety, pressure, and uncertainty than ever. Toward the end of summer, I reopened my classroom door to piece back together what used to be. It was an eerie feeling. My calendar was still set on March 16, 2020. Some unfinished projects from last year’s students sat on the shelf. Boxes of completed packets from our “extended school closure” were next to my filing cabinet. I sat down at my desk, still feeling the impact of last year’s chaos while the sense of anxiety and uncertainty surrounding the 2020-2021 school year began creeping in to join.

“How will I reach each student?”
“How will I prepare them for the state test?”
“Will the students be behind in their skills?”
“How can I ensure I’m doing enough for my students?”
“How will I have enough time to teach in person and virtually?”
“What are other teachers doing that I should be doing too?”

As education professionals, I assume we are all asking ourselves similar questions. 

While the stress and tension inside me rose, I glanced around my disheveled classroom, and my eyes stopped on a framed piece of notebook paper I keep on my desk. It’s two sided and houses two student written poems. And in that instant, I felt a sense of relief. It was a reminder that I didn’t know I needed at the time. Both pieces of poetry were given to me by former students who each wrote about the impact I made on them. Neither of whom included lines or stanzas about the content I taught them, the tests they aced, or the academic goals they achieved. Instead the first poem was titled “Cinnamon Coffee” and included lines such as the following:
“Sweet like cinnamon, strong like coffee...”
“Sunlight, glimmering hope. A smile of understanding. Ambitious array put on display. Something I wish I could do...”
“Pride filled smile. Determination coats the overlap of calm...” 
“Encouraging tone and words stronger than the strongest of gems...”

Poet two wrote: 
“I will miss you now. I will miss you later. Later never comes, but you do.”
“When I am in school, you are always there when I need you. You help me when I need it.”
“I will miss you. We will all miss you.” 

Don’t get me wrong, when I first received each of these poems (in year 1 and year 6), I was undoubtedly touched and even brought to tears. However, they hit me differently after having joined the Fluency Project and experiencing what we all endured last year with the extended school closure. What an astounding reminder! As educators, we have a lot of responsibility, and educating children is definitely a priority. However, one thing the Fluency Project has brought to the forefront of my mind is that there is much more to educating a child than academic content driven by state standards. Now more than ever, children need us. We are not just educators, and we do far more than just educate the mind. 

Prior to receiving those poems, I didn’t realize that many of the lessons that students learn from me often have nothing to do with the Pythagorean theorem or scientific notation. I didn’t realize that my determination, my ambition, or my shoulder to lean on would be what stood out most to my students. I didn’t think that’s what they would cling to or remember about me. The Fluency Project has helped me realign my perspective on how to approach education, our students, and our priorities. I’ve learned so much about what our students really need. While content is important, without looking at students as a whole and as human beings- we could be missing some key components and some vital aspects of their education and their lives. 

So if you’re like I was, sitting at my desk with the fear of the 2020-2021 school year looming, let this be a reminder that YOU are someone’s Cinnamon Coffee. Perhaps now is an opportune time to pull out some old student cards, art work, or other reminders you have kept. Because regardless of what happens this school year, regardless of what your students learn or don’t learn, regardless of how awesome or lame your Google Classroom is - just know that someone this school year will NEED you. You will be someone’s Cinnamon Coffee. You will be someone’s “sunlight glimmering hope”. And to be honest, that might be all he or she needs out of the 2020-2021 school year. That might be just enough. I wish you and all of your students the best!

Natalie Bigelow graduated from Ohio University in 2013 with a major in special education (k-12, mild to moderate).  Natalie began a career as an eighth grade intervention specialist at St. Clairsville Middle School in 2013. This will be her eighth year working at St. Clairsville Middle School as an eighth grade intervention specialist. Natalie is currently is a member Cohort 3 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab (situated in Carnegie Mellon University). Natalie’s special interests include crafting, running, and baking.

This is the latest in a series of blogs by partners of the Fluency work.
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By Gail Adams 

In November 2013, I earned certification as a National Board Certified Teacher. One might think that such an accomplishment could be construed as being on one’s “A game,” but what I quickly realized was that I had only begun my journey as a reflective practitioner. From that point on, nothing I taught was ever viewed through the same lens again. Lessons were tweaked, retweaked, and even scrapped in favor of trying something new, especially when it meant incorporating new technologies into my classroom. 

The Common Core Standards came about during this time, and the saying “an inch wide and a mile deep” resonated with me. The units I created could be called massive rabbit holes, where I challenged my students to construct their own knowledge surrounding the themes of the literature we studied. For example, when we read “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury, we studied the origin of the phrase the “butterfly effect.” We learned what is meant by a carbon footprint. We created infographics using Canva to educate others about ways to reduce our carbon footprint, but only after we had studied visual aesthetics, color composition, and font styles. Needless to say, my units took a lot longer to cover than my colleagues’ teaching of the same literature. I always felt like an anomaly because they couldn’t understand why I was so far behind them. Yet, in my heart, I knew what I was doing was in the best interest of my students. They were given the opportunity to construct their own knowledge, to develop their voice, and to have their voices heard by more than their classmates in my classroom. 

Enter the Data and Technology Fluency Project (Fluency). When I first heard about it, I realized it was a way to revolutionize our thinking about our teaching, but—more importantly—about how our students learn and encouraging them to construct their own knowledge. The National Board for Professional Teaching Standards Core Propositions focus
heavily on teachers: Proposition 1: Teachers are committed to students and their learning. Proposition 2: Teachers know the subjects they teach and how to teach those subjects to students, Proposition 3: Teachers are responsible for managing and monitoring student learning, Proposition 4: Teachers think systematically about their practice and learn from experience, Proposition 5: Teachers are members of learning communities.

 Fluency brings a fresh perspective to teaching: one of exploration and discovery through “deep inquiry, case-making and advocacy.” The focus shifts from teacher-centered to student-centered learning, with teachers taking on more of a coaching role to help facilitate learning. No longer do we have to have all the answers; in fact, it is perfectly fine that we don’t. With Fluency we team with our students to gather information, help them make connections to their personal experiences, and have a voice for a much wider audience. In the Industrial Age education model, rote learning was perfect for an industrial society, but that age is gone. Our society, more than ever, demands citizens who are critically thinking, active members of society who will be unafraid to challenge the status quo through the use of their voices. 

Take a look at the value statements of the Data and Technology Fluency Project.
Our shared belief in compassion means that we approach our relationships with respect and acceptance, striving to understand and support each other, making space for vulnerability in service of our full humanity.
Our shared belief in equity means that, in design,  we prioritize accessibility first, being  intentionally inclusive, eliminating the barriers that prevent the full participation of all peoples, and ensuring the accessibility of information and technology.
Our shared belief in authenticity means that we are transparent in our purpose and process, aiming to be genuine to who we are in our work and with each other.
Our shared belief in agency means that we copower each other, promoting each person’s voice and recognizing their impact.

Seriously, isn’t this exactly what our world needs? If you were to read those value statements through any lens—as global citizens, as racially diverse people, as people of varying socio-economic statuses, etc.—they would be germane to how we build a better society. Now, imagine cohort after cohort of passionate teachers bringing the values  of Fluency—compassion, equity, authenticity, and agency—to their classrooms. To quote a phrase from the 60s, the thought of this blows my mind. 

While I still find value in becoming a National Board Certified Teacher, I find my worth as a Fluency educator. The two programs complement each other, and I have grown from being part of both, but I feel a deeper connection to Fluency because of its holistic and humanistic approach to empower our learners. The world needs compassionate, empathetic, and articulate citizens who are unafraid to have their voices heard, and Data and Technology Fluency Project educators will play an integral role in preparing those citizens for the world they will inherit and, I hope, make a better place.

Gail Adams graduated from West Liberty University in 2004 with a major in Secondary Education--English (Grade 5 through Adult). She began a career as a teacher at Wheeling Park High School in English and Fine and Performing Arts. She currently serves as an Innovation Coach for Ohio County Schools.
Gail is the 2015 West Virginia Teacher of the Year and currently is a member Cohort 3 of The Data and Technology Fluency Project with West Liberty University and the CREATE Lab (situated in Carnegie Mellon University). Gail’s special interests include family, fitness, and friends.