When Appalachian State’s College Access Partnerships was presented with the opportunity to replicate Empowering Teacher Learning (ETL), a professional learning research project, with teachers in Athens, Greece, I was thrilled. This was the dream! Years ago, one of my graduate professors asked us to write down our wildest dream job, and working in education internationally was at the top of my list. I deeply believe in the work of the ETL project, so traveling to Athens and working with their teachers on this type of professional learning felt like fantasy becoming reality. At the same time, I felt a sense of anxiety. I knew the ETL project had shown very promising results within the context of the study: teachers in small, rural Appalachia.
Western North Carolina seemed very different from Athens, Greece. Even more, I had little knowledge about the Greek education system. How would their teachers respond to such an innovative professional learning model?
The ETL project is a 5-year study on teacher-directed professional learning (TDPL). We examine what happens when we hand professional learning back to the teachers by providing voice and choice. Throughout the program, teachers craft self-directed learning plans based on a needs assessment and they select and complete digital micro-credentials that align with their professional learning goals. These digital micro-credentials are online, competency-based badges that teachers earn for proving proficiency in a particular skill. For example, a teacher may want to take on more of a leadership role within their school so they might select and complete the micro-credential Collaborating with Administration. Throughout the program, ETL teacher-participants have the support of a Navigator, who is a thought partner, a peer collaborator, and a professional learning coach. As suggested by the job title, the Navigator’s role is to help guide the teacher on their professional learning journey, but we believe that ultimately, the person in charge is the teacher. A Navigator helps teachers through the ETL program, including helping them select the right micro-credential, assisting with collecting student work examples, facilitating teacher self-reflection, and providing feedback on teachers’ writing. I have been a Navigator for a little over two years, proudly serving teachers in Cherokee, Macon, and Polk counties.
TDPL makes a lot of sense in rural Appalachia, where opportunities for professional development may be limited. Teachers in rural communities may not be offered a variety of options for professional development, and conferences are often hosted in larger cities that are far away from rural towns, requiring teachers to take significant time for travel. TDPL seems to be an innovative solution that not only allows teachers to take ownership of their learning but also gives them a chance to apply what they’re learning right in their classrooms. Teachers can utilize online resources as well as the teachers right across the hall to improve their instruction.
It’s fitting that the city named after the Goddess of Wisdom herself would be so interested in seeking out innovative approaches in education, but I still wondered how this program might transfer from rural Appalachia to the large, bustling city of Athens. In my mind, the two areas could not be more different from one another. However, when I landed in Greece and blinked my sleepy, jet-lagged eyes at the bright blue sky contrasting with the ancient, mountainous terrain, I was stunned to find myself somewhat reminded of the Appalachian mountains back home. After a necessary meal of gyros and french fries (which I still dream about), I returned to the hotel for a nice long sleep before the real work began: day one of our TDPL training.
When I rolled up to Athens College the next day, I saw a gorgeous neoclassical building with billowing Greek and American flags surrounded by a coded gate. As someone who grew up in Western North Carolina and attended a small rural mountain school, this was the kind of K-12 school I had only seen in movies. We set up for training in the school’s library, the largest school library in Greece. The participating teachers filed in and began chatting about the beginning of their school year in Greek, a beautiful and passionate language. Like teachers back home, they were eager to meet their students and excited about the upcoming school year while still reminiscing and holding onto the freedom of sweet summertime.
As I got to know the teachers over my four days with them, I started to formulate an answer to my question: What do teachers in rural Appalachia and teachers in Athens, Greece have in common? Well as it turns out, quite a lot.
Both groups of teachers live in gorgeous, mountainous terrain with a rich history.
At over 1 billion years old, the Appalachian mountains have an ancient air about them. Archeologists can trace Native American ancestry in Western North Carolina to 12,000 years ago. The Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians, a sovereign nation of 15,000 enrolled members, boasts a unique and rich history of storytelling, dancing, and ceremonies. The Qualla Boundary holds stunning views, including gorgeous waterfalls, mountain elk, and mountains whose ridges appear purple and blue from a distance. Visitors to Western North Carolina may find themselves asking what these mountains have witnessed over the last tens of thousands of years. Those who have hiked the Appalachian Trail wonder which footsteps came before them.
Athens has the same quiet, ancient air about it. The rocky, clay loam of the mountains brings forth images of the rich timeline of Athens: the Mycenaean Civilization, the Classical Period, the Roman Empire, the Ottoman Empire, and now modern Athens. The sandy, silty clay invites you to picture the footsteps of those who walked before you. I imagined conversations about democracy, philosophy, and art that happened on the soil thousands of years ago. On the first evening of our trip, my husband and I visited Mount Lycabettus, the highest point in the center of Athens. From this pinnacle, we could see a stunning view of the Panathinaiko Stadium, the Temple of Olympian Zeus, the Hellenic Parliament, and the Acropolis. The deep blue of the Aegean Sea sparkles in the distance, and it’s easy to picture ancient ships rolling in.
[Top] View of Athens from Mount Lycabettus.
[Bottom] View of Athens, including the Acropolis and the Saronic Gulf (part of the Aegean Sea) from the vista of Mount Lycabettus.
Both groups of teachers are proud of their culture.
And they should be, right? One conversation with someone from Western North Carolina, and it’s likely you’ll hear about moonshine, livermush, and grandma’s blackberry cobbler. We are a group of people who are eager to tell our story and invite others to join in the fun with square dancing and clogging. During my time in Greece, I learned that Greek teachers are also very proud of their culture and are thrilled to share recommendations for what to try while you are visiting the beautiful islands. After the second day of the workshop, a retired French and History teacher from Athens College generously took us on a private tour of the Acropolis. We spent hours there learning about the area’s rich history, and in fact, had to be asked to leave the Acropolis museum because we had stayed up until the minute they closed! We found every teacher was eager to share with us dishes to try (traditional horiátiki salad), and sights to see. They urged us to come back so we could spend more time enjoying the beauty of the islands. As they passionately shared the best of their culture, I found myself touched by their love for where they live and was reminded of the teachers back home.
Tour of the Acropolis with Angelique, a retired French and History teacher from Athens College who is a licensed tour guide of Greece. Angelique is extremely knowledgeable about Greek history and an incredible storyteller!
Both groups of teachers deeply value community.
When you walk into a rural school in the mountains of Western North Carolina, you feel a strong sense of community. Everyone seems to know everyone. Teachers are helping students as if they are their own. Students proudly represent their school colors and mascots in their t-shirts and hoodies. Indeed, mountain folks look out for one another and believe in their communities. In the last few months, Hurricane Helene proved this statement truer than ever imagined. Local civil engineers are hiking up mountainsides to survey the damage, neighbors are delivering household items to fellow neighbors, and friends are helping friends clean out flooded houses before they begin to rebuild. The tragedy of Helene showed the people of America what the folks of Appalachia already knew: we look out for each other and our communities. In Greek, the name “Helene” means “shining light.” With many lives lost, the impact of Helene was severe and devastating to our community, but the shining light we witnessed was service, love, and compassion for our neighbors. I found the teachers in Greece to have the same kind of warmth for each other during my visit. The teachers were eager to share the happenings, traditions, and culture that prevailed in their building. From International Baccalaureate (IB) field trips to kindergarten plays to European Day of Language celebrations, teachers find meaningful ways to help students connect and grow. In many ways, it can be a challenge for a school as large as Athens College to cultivate community, but each teacher cares deeply about finding ways to help their students feel connected to one another. It was clear that community was the heartbeat that pulsed energy throughout the entirety of the school.
Teachers from Athens College discuss their ideal classroom environment with one another.
Both groups of teachers appreciate relevant professional learning experiences that recognize them as experts in their field.
As I facilitated the TDPL workshop at Athens College, it became abundantly obvious that the philosophy behind ETL was universally applicable: “When teachers are given choice and support in their professional learning, they will select growth opportunities that meet the needs of themselves, their students, and their communities.” Much like the teachers in rural Appalachia, teachers in Athens appreciated the understanding that they were the experts in their fields and their classrooms. We began the workshop in Athens by discussing how they use teacher-directed professional learning all the time, without even realizing it. When they see a problem arise in their classrooms, they seek out the necessary resources to address the problem. As they address the problem, they monitor students’ responses and evaluate the effectiveness of their solutions. This is what good teachers do every day! The ETL project design validates teachers’ time and effort for engaging in this type of work with online, competency-based digital badges. So far, we have received outstanding positive feedback from teachers in both Western North Carolina and Athens College about this model for professional learning, with teachers noting their appreciation for the time, relevancy, and personalization of this approach.
Teachers from Athens College look at a sample micro-credential together.
My time in Athens was brief but deeply impactful. Although I was 5,591 miles away from the teachers I work with in Appalachia, I felt connected to them because of the teachers I met at Athens College. In both groups of teachers, I have witnessed their love for their students and their community, and a profound commitment to grow as professionals. Because of their warm, open hearts, I found myself uniquely touched by the teachers I met in Greece. Thankfully, my time with teachers at Athens College was just the beginning; the beauty of the ETL program is that teachers have year-long support in earning their digital badges. I look forward to continuing to be their thought partner and their peer collaborator as they pursue their professional learning interests. And in the meantime, I will forever reminisce about standing in front of the Parthenon Temple of Athena, letting myself imagine the stunning, 40-foot-tall statue of the Goddess of Wisdom that once stood proudly inside.
The Parthenon, where the 40-foot-tall gold and ivory statue of Athena once stood inside.