Students often display a morbid curiosity that I feel I cannot ignore, but can I lean into it? Can I use this fascination in a way that engages students, but also humanizes them?

This past year, in a small Midwest community, we lost a student to a drug overdose. We have lost many more to drug addiction, and although we haven’t attended their funerals, they are no longer the students we once knew, while some are unrecognizable.

When I told my fifth-grade class that they were old enough to take charge of their own learning, something unexpected happened.

It's nice to think of the Internet as a wonderful invention that has made our lives both richer and more efficient. It's a nice notion and it's an accurate one—the Internet has changed our lives for the better. We can now communicate with people from all four corners of the globe. We can share, swap, and gain as much knowledge as we could ever want or need. There are no negatives associated with instant knowledge—or are there?

The digital world can either serve as a confidence-enhancer or self-esteem-suppressor, depending on how it is used.

The Spread the Net Student Challenge is a friendly competition between Canadian schools to raise funds for malaria-preventing bed nets for families in Africa.

Teachers need support not only in understanding the tools, but also in managing the ethical, cultural, and emotional complexities that AI brings to the classroom.

I avidly recall a second grade class that would excitedly huddle around my rocking chair for story time. Students scrambled around sliding chairs to the carpet where I read heartwarming and sometimes zany tales, they reminded me that story time was counted among the most meaningful and cherished moments of a child’s day. Story time is a child’s portal into endless worlds, kingdoms, and dimensions.

Throughout my years of teaching, I’ve discovered that students are often more eager to read and discuss horror stories than other material.