My Summer Mission: Writing to Celebrate by Erin Vogler

I’ve been spending a lot of time looking through my old notebooks as I am already thinking ahead to next school year. My notebooks are the place I go to define, describe, process, stumble, and rumble through my thinking, my curiosity, my emotions. I would be lost without this space to be me, wholly and completely, without filter or fear of judgment. My notebooks are one of my life’s touchstones.

As I was paging through, a pattern emerged that I did not expect. So much of my writing during the last few years has been focused on trying to fix things - lessons that went badly, other people, society’s ills...me. It wouldn’t be accurate to say that the writing I’ve been doing is all negative. Some of it definitely shows moments of negativity and frustration. It also wouldn’t be accurate to call it judgmental, although, even though I write without judgment or fear on those pages, there are certainly moments when I am making judgment or trying to work through a set of beliefs that make me uncomfortable. It would be most accurate to characterize much of my writing over the last several years as heavy. Serious. Intense.

Life is heavy, serious, and intense every single day. Admittedly, I’m a person who abhors and avoids small talk. I love getting lost in a big question. I adore wrestling with difficult ideas. I am set aflame by problem solving. I am intense. I’ll never be the person you sit next to for an easy, breezy conversation. If you sidle up next to me and we click, the conversation will go deep quickly.

I think that’s something people appreciate about me. Colleagues and friends come to me often for help or to run through thinking. But you know what they don’t do? They don’t come to me with their fun. I often feel like I’m on life’s sidelines watching other people have fun, and I finally understand why.

I’m intense. Serious. Heavy. Just like my writing. Much of that will never change.

But some of it can.

And that’s where summer writing comes in. This summer, my focus is on moving my writing and thinking forward to include writing to celebrate - myself, others, the world. I’ve had a recent opportunity to do this when tasked with writing a short speech to celebrate a student, and guess what? It felt AWESOME! Recently, I was the recipient of some writing that celebrated me, and I cannot tell you what a precious and surprising gift those words were.

I am in the middle of  another opportunity to write to celebrate as I draft my youngest sister’s wedding ceremony. When she asked me to officiate, I was terrified because this type of writing (and public speaking) is not in my wheelhouse. But in the end, I feel like it is exactly the opportunity I needed to push myself and my writing forward. It is a chance to celebrate.

So, for me, this summer’s writing is about celebration. Intentionally noticing and writing about the joy and beauty that surrounds me. Does that mean that it will all be light and breezy? Nope. Not a chance. I’m still me, afterall.

What it does mean, however, is that when I push myself to write to celebrate, life doesn’t feel as heavy. I don’t feel as intense. It allows me moments of brightness and escape in a world that is already serious enough.




Erin Vogler is an 8th and 10th grade English teacher at Keshequa Middle/High School in the lush, green, and glorious Genesee Valley of Western New York. She’ll be spending her summer hiking local trails, wrestling with two overactive boxer puppies, giving lots of love to her 13 year old Boston Terriers, reading and writing next to a quiet lake in Canada, and loving every minute of it. She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024 Instagram @mrsvogler3024, and at her blog https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/.

Living a Writer’s Life by Erin Vogler

I had glorious plans for a tightly written and polished post on something significant I’ve noticed in this life of teaching, writing, and reading.

Ah, the best laid plans…

The last couple of weeks have been a menagerie of highs and lows, all of which have left me pretty tired, constantly questioning, and just about ready to go into shutdown mode as my means of coping.

Instead of shutdown, I went to my notebook, and over a couple of days, I created a list of the things I was noticing. It’s messy, and not all of the thinking is fully flushed out, but if you bear with me, I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.

Recently I’ve noticed…

The more I write, the more I notice, and the more I notice, the more I write.

When I read the work of smart teacher-writers, I have to remember that I’m one too - that I don’t have to change everything, or that everything I want to try is necessary RIGHT NOW. I get excitement overload and I want to try all of it. When I try trying all of it, I’m left exhausted by the overload of ideas and enthusiasm. I’ve noticed that in these moments, I’m losing myself.

I’ve noticed that I need to come up with some sort of plan for taking in all of the smart writing and ideas from these teacher-writers I respect. I need to figure out a way to take it all in, to process it, and to differentiate between what might work in the “right now” and what I want to put aside and save for later - but in a place or way that is easy to access later, while planning lessons and/or while working on my own writing.

I’ve noticed that I go really hard trying to be like the person whose work I’ve just read, and that’s where it really goes off the rails. I can’t be Erin Vogler trying to be Penny Kittle (just one example of so many whose work I find myself considering and emulating). I have to be Erin Vogler trying something that came from the wisdom of Penny’s experience. I have to try things when, where, and with whom, they make sense - not just because I’ve read or seen this great new idea.

I’ve noticed that I undervalue my own experience and creativity. In 19 years of teaching, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve come up with an idea that really helps kids and not written or told someone else about it. I’ve noticed that, for some reason, I figure other people won’t be that interested. I have some work to do here...

I’ve noticed that my students grow as writers when they have choice, individual support, time, space, a volume and variety of opportunities, and focused group lessons that scaffold skills that serve as a way to give both roots and wings. It’s not a formula or a recipe, there is no set amount of any of these ingredients because the needs of each individual and group are different. I’ve noticed that I am my best, and my students are at theirs, when I am constantly tinkering.

I’ve noticed that every move I make as a teacher is better when I lead with and give grace to others, and especially, to myself.

I’ve noticed that a To Do List and plan of prioritizing what needs to be done has helped prevent that “in the weeds” feeling that used to happen in both my personal and professional lives.

I’ve noticed that holding myself accountable and being consistent trickles down to my students - when they see me being consistent in my skills and habits (both ELA related and not), they find ways to do so as well when working toward accomplishing goals.

I’ve noticed that I say “but” a lot more than I say “and” - and I’m working on changing that.

I’ve noticed that I spend a lot of time teaching, reading, and writing, and not as much time on the other habits and activities that also fuel me, like spending time with friends, hiking, yoga, cooking and baking, hunting in antique stores for the Pyrex pattern and Longaberger baskets I collect, traveling, doing creative projects…


Which leads me to the place I promised I’d get. I can still write well when I lead the life of pattern that I find myself frustrated and exhausted by lately. I can live inside that bubble for long periods of time and feel like I’m growing as a person, as a teacher.

Until I can’t. Then, it feels like I can’t breathe. That I need a long nap. That I need to run away. That I need to do anything to break out of the routine that is stifling me.

I was struggling, really anxious, actually, about getting this post written. I’d been in my bubble for too long and was stuck.

So I went outside, set up a little workshop space, and stained the pieces of the shelf my dad and I are in the process of designing and building together. I broke out of my pattern, and cracked open my thinking, and that leads me to the most important thing I’ve noticed in all of this:

It is impossible to live the life of a writer if you’re not out there LIVING a life.



Erin Vogler cannot believe she is in the final weeks of her 19th year of teaching at Keshequa Middle/High School in the Genesee Valley of Western New York. She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024, Instagram @mrsvogler3024, and at her blog (that has been radio silent since the March Slice of Life Challenge, but will soon speak again, she swears) https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/ .

A Letter to Reluctant Writers by Erin Vogler

Dear Writer,

Yes. I’m talking to you.  If you’re here and reading these words, this message is meant for you.

You don’t write every single day? So what? Maybe you just don’t write daily YET. Maybe you are tired, or busy, or scared. 

That’s okay. 

And it’s also not okay.

If something in you is telling you to write.  Listen.  Ideas and inspiration come to us for brief visits.  That story you want to tell? Write it while it’s with you.  Before long, the details will fade, your schedule will interfere, and your fears will tell you that you can’t write it...that your words aren’t good enough.

But they ARE.  We all have stories to tell, memories that we want to capture, poems to write, songs to sing - you get the picture, right? The truth is that our words matter.  Our stories, memories, and imaginations matter. In fact, I believe they are an essential piece of human connection.

I’m guessing that if you’re struggling, it’s because someone or something along the way made you feel like what you have to say doesn’t matter, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

And if you’re sitting there thinking that my first guess was wrong, maybe my second guess will land closer to your heart - perhaps your struggle is with feeling like you can’t possibly write well. That you’ll make mistakes, or that the writing will be terrible...and that can be paralyzing. 

But guess what? You WILL make mistakes. You WILL write things that are terrible.

That’s okay. As it should be, in fact.

You see, you have to write to get better at writing.  You have to experiment, and you will, often, fall flat on your face.

Eventually, however, with patience, a little grit, and a whole lot of grace, those words will start to sing. Your pen will fly across the page, you’ll feel the glory of that moment when everything begins falling into place. 

The only way to grow, as a writer and as a person, is to show up. Consistently, no matter how busy, fearful, or doubtful you may be feeling. 

So, what’s next?

Find tools that invite you to sit down and dig in.  If you want to jump beyond journaling or reflecting on your day, but aren’t sure where to begin, a simple internet search for writing prompts will give you plenty of fodder for ideas. Search your favorite social media platforms for writing and sketching challenges.  Write beside and in response to the words of other writers whose words resonate with you.

Take the leap.

A writing life is a life of intentional noticing.  The more you write, the more you’ll notice, and the more you notice, the more you’ll have the itch to pull out your notebook and write.  Be willing to embrace the bumps and imperfections, and remember that every writer feels the way you do, and much more often than we’d all like to admit.

If it helps, imagine me, in my classroom or my little house in Western New York, staring at the blank page along with you, probably frustrated, but having faith that the words will show up if we do.

Now, let’s open those notebooks (or docs) get to it!



Erin Vogler teaches middle and high school English at Keshequa Central School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York.  She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024, often when she is avoiding her own writing due to self-doubt, an overbooked schedule, or by spending time with her three demanding dogs.

Never a Day Without a Line by Erin Vogler

I am a person who struggles with maintaining momentum. There. I said it. I am great at ideas, I’m even great at getting started. The middle, however, that daily focus on a commitment, it gets messy. Really messy. Especially in a classroom when you are being pulled in a million other directions.

With year 19 on the horizon, I think back to the dozens of commitments I try to make at the beginning of every year, and I see both a pattern and a problem. I’m sabotaging myself, and therefore, sabotaging my students. And I just have to let that sink in for a moment. My choices and commitments set us up to falter or flourish.

Too many goals and commitments force us to move quickly, we sample skills rather than master them. We become cogs in a curriculum wheel rather than individuals whose needs matter and are met.

So this year, in an effort to keep my momentum going in the two most important areas in an ELA classroom, our goals are simple.

There are only two: we will read and write every single day.

The added bonus is that to do that well, we will also have to listen to and talk about what makes writing good, as well as how to improve it through revision. It allows us to create and share pieces that matter to us, intentionally crafted for an audience beyond school.

We will learn from mentor texts and independent reading. We will tackle book club choices and, perhaps, a whole group text (a novel or a play). These choices will be made as student interests and needs reveal themselves. And yes, we will, in our work together this year, also do the things others say we need to do: meet the standards and prepare for assessments.

One thing is abundantly clear to me, more so than in any other year, the only way to do any of these things is to make that simple, initial commitment: We will read and write every single day.

With that commitment as my foundation, I cannot wait to see what year 19 brings!


Erin Vogler teaches middle and high school English at Keshequa Central School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York.  She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024. 

Did I Write Today? by Erin Vogler

I struggle with consistency and momentum in my writing life.  I’ll be all in for a short period of time, writing and playing in my notebooks or adding ideas to my notes app on my phone, and then a busy or difficult day happens, and the writing stops.

It wasn’t until recently that I figured out why that happens.  I think I make it too hard, set my expectations too high. Writing daily is writing daily, whether it is a single line of reflection or page after page of winding narrative.  The reality of this writing life is that some days warrant that single line while others lead to the winding narrative. Some days I have ten minutes to sit down with my notebook, and others I have hours.

I would love to be the kind of person who gets up early and writes for an hour every single day or even the person who stays up late each evening and writes page after page.  I am neither exclusively, and sometimes I’m both.  The ideas don’t come at the same time every day, but ideas do show up every single day.  So I need to show up as well. 

My best strategy for capturing them is making sure that I have my phone or a notebook with me everywhere I go.  The more consistent I am about having a tool available to record my writing and thinking, the more consistent the writing becomes. When the writing is consistent, a quiet momentum builds.

But it’s still hard, and sometimes I make it harder than it needs to be.  I turn skipped writing days into criticisms and create a battle for grit when the solution probably lies in extending myself a bit more grace. Instead of beating myself up over how much (or how little) I’ve written, I think I just need to rely on my response to a simple question: Did I write today?

The goal is to answer yes more frequently than no. It means pushing myself to write even when I feel like there isn’t much to say, and knowing that some days a line or two is enough. Small daily steps build a habit. Baby steps build momentum.

Never a day without a line. Some days that will be literal, and on others, many lines will turn into pages.  For a writing life to have any momentum, both have to be okay. 



Erin Vogler teaches middle and high school English at Keshequa Central School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York.  She can be found on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024. She is spending her summer regaining her writing momentum and reading as many books as she can.  

Finding Our Voices by Erin Vogler

This year was a good one.  But it was also hard.  Really hard.  It is one that has been defined by struggle, disappointment, fear, anxiety, heart-wrenching loss, and, most importantly, celebration.

I started the year with the goal of fostering and empowering voice and choice in my students, students whose stories are as varied as those that sit on the shelves in my classroom library. We told our stories more this year than ever before.

This year I didn’t just assign academic writing, and our work wasn’t just about figuring out the formula for formal literary analysis and argument. This year, the writing that was front and center was the type of writing that doesn’t get nearly enough attention in our schools. 

We told our stories.  We wrote about the people, places, things, and ideas that matter to us.  We argued passionately and we told our stories honestly. As amazing as this sounds, it was also hard. Sometimes my students wanted to quit.  Sometimes I wanted to quit because there just wasn’t enough time or enough of me to go around to help every one of them in the moments they needed feedback.

You see, asking students to open their hearts and tell the stories that matter to them is not for the faint of heart. It can run the gamut from joy to heartache in a matter of moments, and you have to be prepared for that.  You also have to model that range, and that takes a level of vulnerability that, at times, feels impossible.

I shared more of my writing this year than ever before, and my students made me brave because they always handled my writing with the care I modeled for them.  Sure, at first they doubted whether or not I really wanted their feedback, but then they started to ask tough questions and pushed me to clarify things I thought were perfectly clear. They asked me to dig deeper to help them understand not just what I meant, but who I am at my core. It is because of the work we did together this year that I was finally brave enough to add my voice to this blog.

My favorite moments this year were the moments when we shared our writing, when students proudly read either a favorite line or a whole piece after working hard to get their words just right.  They were proud and respectful, and so supportive of the work, thinking, and bravery of their peers. There were spontaneous rounds of applause, high fives, and lots of WOW! moments.

I cried more than once at the beauty of these words and the care my students displayed for one another. We celebrated everyone’s voices, voices who don’t get heard nearly enough in these places that are supposed to be all about fostering and empowering our students to go out into the world and share their voices.

This year, even though it was nowhere near perfect or pretty, it was nothing short of amazing. I received an unexpected thank you note from a student on my last day that said, “Thank you! I appreciate you helping me this year no matter what. You’re a great teacher and I’m glad I could help you even if it’s not nearly as much as you helped me.” I spent a lot of time this year wondering whether the work we were doing was really giving my students the tools and practice they needed to become more effective, insightful, and focused writers.

That unexpected thank you was just what I needed. It reminded me that celebration often comes after the struggle.  We may have struggled to find our way, but we found and used our voices to say what matters to us.  I celebrate the strides we made individually, and the leaps we made together.



Erin Vogler has just finished her 18th year of teaching at Keshequa Middle/High School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York. She has taught grades 7-12, and has loved spending this year reading and writing beside her wise and witty 8th and 10th graders. She will be spending her summer reading, writing, doing yoga, and relaxing with her two Boston Terriers and a rambunctious Boxer who are excited for her to be home everyday. Erin shares her thoughts on teaching, reading, and writing at https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/, a place where she is not quite as consistent as she’d like to be (yet). You can also find her on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024.

Returning to my Writing Life by Erin Vogler

I can’t really predict where my summer writing will go, but I do know it will be different from the writing I do during the school year.

For me, summer writing is the writing I want to do, when I am untethered and can let my words take me anywhere.

School year writing, though still something I approach with joy, is often for a defined purpose and specific audience. I never really have the time I need to craft my message with the care I’d prefer.

What I love most about summer writing is that I have time to allow my mind to weave and wade through the deep waters of trust, fear, vulnerability, faith, and wander the grassy meadows of beautiful words like joy, reflection, and wonder.

It is a time when I slow down, preferably with a cup of peppermint tea, and most definitely sitting in my gazebo or on my front porch just after sunset. The lights twinkle, a light breeze flutters, and the orchestra of my rural surroundings guide my pen across the page.

I’m a night writer, so my style gets cramped between September and June when bedtime is 9 p.m. most evenings. During the school year, the writing is rushed. I’m hustling to get it all done and still have time to be well-read and well-rested.

But oh, those summer nights! That’s when my notebook, my writing, starts to breathe and move. It comes to life. I am more intentional. I breathe deeply and let myself sink in. My notebooks get beautiful again.  I have time to sketch and play.  I experiment with collage and take the time to add and write beside others whose words inspire me to take new leaps in my work.

I never forget to write in the summer. I know inspiration can creep up at any moment, so I carry my notebook everywhere. I’m always ready to open the door to invite an idea in to stay for awhile.  I don’t push my notebook to the side during these months.

So, how do I make that summer habit stick? How do I make sure writing doesn’t get placed in the unnecessary indulgence category, or worse yet, just another item on that September to June To Do list that rarely gets finished?

I think the answer lies in reminding myself that I AM a writer and that writers write.

Every. Single. Day.

It is about remembering that BOTH reading and writing are essential - like breathing - one, reading, the deep, delicious inhale, and writing, the necessary other, the space-making, life-saving exhale.  It’s not something I merely want to do. It’s something I must do.


Erin Vogler is about to finish her 18th year of teaching at Keshequa Middle/High School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York. She has taught grades 7-12, and has loved spending this year reading and writing beside her wise and witty 8th and 10th graders. She will be spending her summer reading, writing, doing yoga, and relaxing with her two Boston Terriers and a rambunctious Boxer who can’t wait for her to be home every day. Erin shares her thoughts on teaching, reading, and writing at https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/, a place where she is not quite as consistent as she’d like to be (yet). You can also find her on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024.

Write for Us! The #TeachWrite Twitter Chat Blog is dedicated to providing a space for our community to connect and share their voices about writing and teaching writing. We are looking for guest bloggers who would like to blog on topics related to being a teacher-writer. Educators and writers of all levels are invited to join us in this space. More information can be found here.

Notice What You Need to Feed Your Writing Life by Erin Vogler

I am a better everything: wife, dog mom, teacher, friend, colleague, reader; when I write.

This is something I know in the deepest parts of me.  I have also come to notice that I am a better writer when I regularly take time to care for myself.  For me, this means taking advantage of the beautiful hiking trails in my (finally) green and lush corner of the world. It means time on my yoga mat where breath and movement become one, and I allow all of the stressors that are part of life and teaching to scatter with each deep inhale and exhale. Often, it is the simple joy of grabbing a great book and heading out to my porch or gazebo and escaping into someone else’s world while I allow mine to fall away for an hour or two.

The end of the school year is upon us. This is a time when we get caught up in the rush of all the things we need to do, the places we need to be, the to do list never seems to end.  I notice that this is the time of year when I often feel so busy that I make myself believe I don’t have time for that hike, mat time, or to escape with a great book.

When I’m not taking care of myself, holding myself accountable for taking and savoring that down time, I don’t write often.  Sometimes not at all.  Looking back at old notebooks, I notice that many of them have a gap that begins somewhere around May 1st and ends once I’ve embarked on summer vacation in late June.  It is no coincidence that I am more stressed, less focused, and have a much more difficult time processing and dealing with new information during that two month stretch. I’m not practicing the things that help me do that well: self-care and writing.

I’ve challenged myself to do better this season. To notice the importance of finding joy, space, and peace, even for a few minutes each day. To notice how that time leads me to more focused and insightful writing, writing that makes me proud and that I am proud to share with others.  I am a better everything when I write, and I am a better writer when I take care of myself by taking time to breathe deeply and celebrate the things that feed my soul.

I challenge you to do the same.  You won’t be sorry.



Erin Vogler is in the final weeks (seven to be exact) of her 18th year of teaching at Keshequa Middle/High School in the Genesee Valley in Western New York. She has taught grades 7-12, and is currently reading and writing beside 8th and 10th graders. Erin is working on becoming a more consistent writer who shares her thoughts on teaching, reading, and writing at https://fosteringvoicesandchoices.wordpress.com/. You can also find her on Twitter @vogler3024 and Instagram @mrsvogler3024.