The tug of war of control between federal and local governments over education, union and school board, parents and school districts, teachers and administrators, are ever-present in any discussion of education reform or transformation. But the control issue that seems to come up most often in my discussions on both #edchat and #langchat is the issue of student control.
It is evident that in order for students to have more control of their learning, teachers must give up some of their control. For many teachers, this is a very scary prospect. The idea that good classroom management equals a quiet classroom filled with obedient students is a traditional view that has been reinforced in teacher education programs for decades. Then again, I have also seen tweeted and retweeted, even by educators I greatly respect, the sentiment that noisy classrooms are where the most learning is taking place. Judging from my own three-ring circus (read: classroom), depending on what activities are taking place and how many activities are going on at any given moment, the volume can range from a dull roar to almost pin-drop quiet (which I find almost unnerving) but in either case, students are engaged.
I have students who choose to work alone when they have the opportunity. I have students who choose the low-tech options when they are available. With guidance, this is how they learn which learning methods work best for them. Do they have completely free rein? Of course not. Am I endorsing classroom anarchy? Never. But students respond positively when allowed to make choices within a system of structure.
I was prompted to post on this topic by an experience I had with my students last week. I had just introduced them to their electronic portfolios in wikispaces. They were setting up accounts, embedding their first speaking pieces, when the buzz began among them that there was a chatroom in the wiki. Now, I had planned to introduce this in the future, so having them discover it on their own, saved me quite a bit of direct instruction. Of course, my little angels thought they were putting one over on me, but because I let them be in control, I have some found time with this group.
The day after I drafted this post, (but before I had a chance to type it), I had another experience with students that made an even bigger impact on me. In a class of novice French students, one group was working on being able to count out loud up to 20. I had selected two different counting songs (here and here) for them to use to model their pronunciation, and use for memory aids. I was working with other groups for a few minutes, and when I went to check on the counting group, they were watching a youtube video I had never seen before (here). They knew from a previous class that my teacher account (which was logged in on the computer they were using) did not have youtube blocked, and they took it upon themselves to try to find a better alternative to what I had offered. They were successful. I subsequently used the video they found with other classes, who also enjoyed it. Here was a group of students who were allowed some control of their learning, realized there were better alternatives out there, found them, used them, and LEARNED. I couldn't have planned it as well myself.
Giving students choice will not bring the world to an end. In fact, it just might make your classroom manageable. You might even find your students teaching YOU a thing or two.
My challenge to you: Find one area in which you are willing to give up some control to your students -- homework, seating, practice method, assessment method. Let them surprise you.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
On Failure
Having finished the first week of school as a teacher of novice students of French, this post (that has been percolating in the draft pile for weeks now) seems very timely. All learners benefit from this message. I've often seen the message "Failure is not an Option" as a motivational bumper sticker/poster type message designed to raise expectations, but the fact is, that failure MUST be an option in order for learning to occur. This blog is normally intended for the audience of educators passionate about making the changes they have the power to make in order to transform education, but I am writing this also to share with my students, because I believe it is a message they need to hear.
I am normally confounded by the alphabet soup that edjargon has become, but I've seen this acronym tweeted numerous times in the last several weeks, and it really touched me:
FAIL: First Attempt In Learning
Thomas Edison said:
Brad Flickinger expanded on this philosophy in his blog about how great ideas are born from failures. Learning can be increased -- perhaps exponentially -- when failure is embraced as part of the process -- something to be analysed and transformed. Like Henry Ford said: "Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently. "
My favorite point from Abhijit Kadle's blog is how he puts failure in to the context of video gaming -- a concept most of our students understand quite well. If you've ever played a particular video game for any length of time, reflect on the number of failures required to move from level to level. Probably the first two or three levels can be moved through rather quickly, maybe even failure-free, but as you move forward, you may be stuck on a particular level through numerous failures until you finally succeed. Put in the context of learning content in a classroom. Some concepts come to some students very quickly, others require numerous failures, but boy what a great feeling when the success eventually happens.
I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.
My favorite point from Abhijit Kadle's blog is how he puts failure in to the context of video gaming -- a concept most of our students understand quite well. If you've ever played a particular video game for any length of time, reflect on the number of failures required to move from level to level. Probably the first two or three levels can be moved through rather quickly, maybe even failure-free, but as you move forward, you may be stuck on a particular level through numerous failures until you finally succeed. Put in the context of learning content in a classroom. Some concepts come to some students very quickly, others require numerous failures, but boy what a great feeling when the success eventually happens.
Alina Tugend quoted a teacher in her post on Edutopia as lamenting that students have become "victims of excellence". They have become afraid to fail. Teachers have the responsibility to reassure them that
1. It's Ok not to know something, as long as you are willing to find out
This is one of the most powerful things a teacher can model. We are not the "keepers of the knowledge". It is guaranteed every class we walk into that every student has something s/he can teach us that we didn't already know, so when we say "I don't know.", we make it OK for them to do the same.
2. It's Ok to take a while to learn
This is a particular point with me, and it bears repeating. Students need to be allowed to learn at their own pace. When we allow them that comfort, it may come to bear that the pace picks up as students gain confidence, and realize they will not be shamed or penalized for taking a little longer to absorb the information
These excerpts from this post by Scott Dinsmore sums up the message I'd like to send with this post.
It’s ok to not be the best at something.
In fact there’s huge power in being a beginner. Here are a few:- Keeps you humble
- Gets you out of your comfort zone
- Removes expectation or comparison
- Connects you with people on a new level – gives a window into their world
- Gives you a chance to find something that lights your heart on fire
So, for a dual audience, a dual challenge:
Teachers: I challenge you to tell your students directly that failure is part of the learning process. Make your classroom a place where failure is embraced as a mile marker on the road to success, not something cloaked in shame.
Students: I challenge you to play Angry Birds, and the next time you feel like a failure in French class, remember Angry Birds. Remember how many failures it took to get to that next level. The, remember how great it felt when you finally got there.
Teachers: I challenge you to tell your students directly that failure is part of the learning process. Make your classroom a place where failure is embraced as a mile marker on the road to success, not something cloaked in shame.
Students: I challenge you to play Angry Birds, and the next time you feel like a failure in French class, remember Angry Birds. Remember how many failures it took to get to that next level. The, remember how great it felt when you finally got there.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
The Power of Gratitude
I've started watching more TED talks lately -- many on the recommendation of another of my favorite tweeps, Terry Woolard. The most recent TED talk I've watched was by Adam Grant, and had to do with the effect of gratitude on teacher burnout...and wearing dark suits, but you'd need to watch the video to understand that last bit.
Teaching, particularly in the current political climate, can be an isolating and thankless job -- especially if you teach secondary school, and have contact with far more students for a far shorter amount of time. (And let's face it, spontaneous gratitude is not part of the general makeup of most teenagers). "Teacher gifts" at the end of the year and holidays usually become a thing of the past as soon as parents figure out "You want to buy gifts for HOW many teachers?", which is as it should be, because after all, it really is the thought that counts. And although there have been relatively few true expressions of gratitude I have received in my career, I cherish those I have gotten -- flowers from a student who passed after long hours of remediation, a guidance counselor thanking me for my hard work on behalf of students, an administrator telling me he was impressed with how I handled myself in a meeting with an irate parent. We all like to think we go the extra mile for selfless reasons but the truth is, it matters when someone notices and says thank you.
Two years ago my school district moved to the PBIS system of student discipline (Positive Behavior Interventions and Supports). At the high school, part of this new system includes paper tickets known as "fist bumps" that are filled out by students or teachers who "catch a student being good". Yes, there are monthly drawings for small prizes, but I have a hunch that the real prize is the "thank you" that is the fist bump. The PBIS committee, made up of fabulously enthusiastic educators, had the wisdom to include faculty in the fist bumps, so students and faculty can give fist bumps to faculty as well. To many of my colleagues it seems kind of silly, I know, but to me, a personalized thank you from a student or colleague -- even for something as simple as always being on time for lunch duty -- means someone is paying attention and, yeah, it matters.
So my challenge to you, as you go through your first weeks of school, is to sincerely thank a colleague for their hard work, or for helping you, or just for being on time.
It matters.
Teaching, particularly in the current political climate, can be an isolating and thankless job -- especially if you teach secondary school, and have contact with far more students for a far shorter amount of time. (And let's face it, spontaneous gratitude is not part of the general makeup of most teenagers). "Teacher gifts" at the end of the year and holidays usually become a thing of the past as soon as parents figure out "You want to buy gifts for HOW many teachers?", which is as it should be, because after all, it really is the thought that counts. And although there have been relatively few true expressions of gratitude I have received in my career, I cherish those I have gotten -- flowers from a student who passed after long hours of remediation, a guidance counselor thanking me for my hard work on behalf of students, an administrator telling me he was impressed with how I handled myself in a meeting with an irate parent. We all like to think we go the extra mile for selfless reasons but the truth is, it matters when someone notices and says thank you.
Two years ago my school district moved to the PBIS system of student discipline (Positive Behavior Interventions and Supports). At the high school, part of this new system includes paper tickets known as "fist bumps" that are filled out by students or teachers who "catch a student being good". Yes, there are monthly drawings for small prizes, but I have a hunch that the real prize is the "thank you" that is the fist bump. The PBIS committee, made up of fabulously enthusiastic educators, had the wisdom to include faculty in the fist bumps, so students and faculty can give fist bumps to faculty as well. To many of my colleagues it seems kind of silly, I know, but to me, a personalized thank you from a student or colleague -- even for something as simple as always being on time for lunch duty -- means someone is paying attention and, yeah, it matters.
So my challenge to you, as you go through your first weeks of school, is to sincerely thank a colleague for their hard work, or for helping you, or just for being on time.
It matters.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
First Day Homecoming
I'm home!!
Back in the day...after I completed my middle school student teaching placement, I vowed to do my best to avoid teaching middle school again. Ever. Of course in real life, we take the job that is offered, so newly married and expecting my child, I took a job teaching eighth and ninth grade French. Well the undeniable thing about middle school age students is that they grow on you...perhaps like a fungus, but nevertheless it's a truly unique experience. After several years, our district shifted the ninth grade to the high school, and I became a traveling teacher. I adapted. Several years after that, due to a scheduling change, I was teaching exclusively at the high school. I adapted. Now, again several years later, another scheduling change, and I will be four classes out of five back at the middle school.
The first two days before students begin their school year are reserved for professional development. The first PD handout to catch my eye as I walked into the middle school cafetorium was a Thinking Map with "Teacher as Facilitator" at the center. That was the moment that my apprehension fell away, and I truly felt like I was back home. I am thrilled to be back in the midst of a group of teachers and administrators looking at the learning process in this way.
Now although I was pleasantly surprised, I admittedly was not entirely looking forward to these two days. Although billed as PD, what they usually are, in total honesty, are a series of long meetings that accomplish little. Still, several years ago, having sat through countless hours of minimally valuable PD, I made it a personal goal to walk away with at least one new and useful tool or concept to run with.
So that is my challenge to you. Your school-sponsored PD may not give you a feeling of homecoming like I had this morning, but at your next PD gathering, make a point to find at least one new and useful tool or concept you can add to your teaching bag of tricks.
Back in the day...after I completed my middle school student teaching placement, I vowed to do my best to avoid teaching middle school again. Ever. Of course in real life, we take the job that is offered, so newly married and expecting my child, I took a job teaching eighth and ninth grade French. Well the undeniable thing about middle school age students is that they grow on you...perhaps like a fungus, but nevertheless it's a truly unique experience. After several years, our district shifted the ninth grade to the high school, and I became a traveling teacher. I adapted. Several years after that, due to a scheduling change, I was teaching exclusively at the high school. I adapted. Now, again several years later, another scheduling change, and I will be four classes out of five back at the middle school.
The first two days before students begin their school year are reserved for professional development. The first PD handout to catch my eye as I walked into the middle school cafetorium was a Thinking Map with "Teacher as Facilitator" at the center. That was the moment that my apprehension fell away, and I truly felt like I was back home. I am thrilled to be back in the midst of a group of teachers and administrators looking at the learning process in this way.
Now although I was pleasantly surprised, I admittedly was not entirely looking forward to these two days. Although billed as PD, what they usually are, in total honesty, are a series of long meetings that accomplish little. Still, several years ago, having sat through countless hours of minimally valuable PD, I made it a personal goal to walk away with at least one new and useful tool or concept to run with.
So that is my challenge to you. Your school-sponsored PD may not give you a feeling of homecoming like I had this morning, but at your next PD gathering, make a point to find at least one new and useful tool or concept you can add to your teaching bag of tricks.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Examine your Assumptions
I recently watched Sir Ken Robinson's 2010 TED talk in which he encourages educators to "disenthrall" themselves from what they take for granted. This clip begins with a quote from President Abraham Lincoln:
I was reminded of this clip earlier today. In the process of giving some well-deserved kudos to Todd Whittaker and John Bernia, I commented that I had come to Twitter with quite a jaded opinion of administrators. John asked me why. This is one of the reasons I feel blessed to have John as a member of my PLN. He challenges me to think and question. Shortly after tweeting a brief response to John about having been evaluated for four years by an administrator who has never set foot in my classroom (more on that...) I had the luxury of a twenty minute drive. (If I could find a safe way to blog and drive, my life would be so much easier! -- My best thinking happens in the car.) As I drove, I pondered John's question. A lot of bitterness was taking hold. I revisited my early Twitter days, and I am ashamed to admit to the number of times I rolled my eyes and said to myself "administrator" when I would see a tweet posted by a man in a tie. Talk about assumptions!
I don't want in any way to imply that I have only worked with "bad" administrators -- on the contrary. I actually tend to understand (often more than many of my colleagues, ironically) that when building principals put pressure on teachers to raise test scores, they are responding to pressure from superintendents, who are responding to pressure from the state, and so forth. I have worked with several administrators for whom I have immense respect, despite the fact that I may not always agree with them. Still, somewhere along the way I allowed myself to slip into an "us" "them" mentality, even though consciously I know how counterproductive that is. So thank you again to John and Todd, Patrick Larkin, Bill Burkhead and other administrators in my PLN for sharing their passion for continuing to learn and grow, but mostly for continuing to challenge and question their tweeps.
Going forward, I will be teaching 4/5 of my day at the middle school with three administrators I have not worked with in that capacity. I am entering this new school year with optimism, and hopeful to develop positive professional relationships.
So given all of this, I need to remember the title of my own blog, and identify my realm of control. To the end of breaking out of the "us" "them" mindset, here are my goals:
1. invite the two assistant principals at the middle school to join Twitter
2. join the communication committee at the middle school
3. actively invite administrators into my classroom
Here is my challenge to you:
Challenge your assumptions. Disenthrall yourself from what you take for granted. Go for a drive and think about how you would finish one (or all) of these sentences:
administrators are
students are
parents are
I was reminded of this clip earlier today. In the process of giving some well-deserved kudos to Todd Whittaker and John Bernia, I commented that I had come to Twitter with quite a jaded opinion of administrators. John asked me why. This is one of the reasons I feel blessed to have John as a member of my PLN. He challenges me to think and question. Shortly after tweeting a brief response to John about having been evaluated for four years by an administrator who has never set foot in my classroom (more on that...) I had the luxury of a twenty minute drive. (If I could find a safe way to blog and drive, my life would be so much easier! -- My best thinking happens in the car.) As I drove, I pondered John's question. A lot of bitterness was taking hold. I revisited my early Twitter days, and I am ashamed to admit to the number of times I rolled my eyes and said to myself "administrator" when I would see a tweet posted by a man in a tie. Talk about assumptions!
I don't want in any way to imply that I have only worked with "bad" administrators -- on the contrary. I actually tend to understand (often more than many of my colleagues, ironically) that when building principals put pressure on teachers to raise test scores, they are responding to pressure from superintendents, who are responding to pressure from the state, and so forth. I have worked with several administrators for whom I have immense respect, despite the fact that I may not always agree with them. Still, somewhere along the way I allowed myself to slip into an "us" "them" mentality, even though consciously I know how counterproductive that is. So thank you again to John and Todd, Patrick Larkin, Bill Burkhead and other administrators in my PLN for sharing their passion for continuing to learn and grow, but mostly for continuing to challenge and question their tweeps.
Going forward, I will be teaching 4/5 of my day at the middle school with three administrators I have not worked with in that capacity. I am entering this new school year with optimism, and hopeful to develop positive professional relationships.
So given all of this, I need to remember the title of my own blog, and identify my realm of control. To the end of breaking out of the "us" "them" mindset, here are my goals:
1. invite the two assistant principals at the middle school to join Twitter
2. join the communication committee at the middle school
3. actively invite administrators into my classroom
Here is my challenge to you:
Challenge your assumptions. Disenthrall yourself from what you take for granted. Go for a drive and think about how you would finish one (or all) of these sentences:
administrators are
students are
parents are
Friday, August 19, 2011
Beyond the Rhetoric Part 1
I've been slowly putting together a series of posts for this blog called "Beyond the Rhetoric". They were initially going to be the introductory posts for the blog, until I exploded my pen in the Promethean workshop and, well....read the previous post if you want the whole ugly story. This post wasn't even going to be part of the series until I read Dan Brown's post "After the Save Our Schools Blown Opportunity, Where Do Progressive Educators Go From Here?" Family commitments kept me from attending the SOS march, and quite honestly, I do not usually participate in highly organized productions such as this because they seem to me to be machines of rhetoric rather than vehicles capable of meaningful change. Yes, most of the message is good, but what do they really accomplish?
When you have two opposing sides with opposing positions, and both sides continue to publicly build the walls of rhetoric ever higher, ever louder, the only thing accomplished is further isolation and the promise that no change will come. This premise was clearly illustrated by the fact that SOS march organizers turned down an invitation to meet with President Obama's Education advisors before the march. They chose rhetoric over conversation and potential compromise. What did they really accomplish? Is the situation any better for students as a result of this march? Isn't that what this is supposed to be about?
On a smaller scale. When we complain to and with our colleagues about various situations in our departments, in our buildings, in our districts, we create our own rhetoric. It can grow, and bring down morale. My challenge to you is to choose one area of your professional life that you are prone to complain about, and be proactive -- that may mean changing something on your own, working with colleagues to make a change, meeting with admin or union leaders, but make a change. One small change can change your outlook, raise your morale, and lead to bigger things.
When you have two opposing sides with opposing positions, and both sides continue to publicly build the walls of rhetoric ever higher, ever louder, the only thing accomplished is further isolation and the promise that no change will come. This premise was clearly illustrated by the fact that SOS march organizers turned down an invitation to meet with President Obama's Education advisors before the march. They chose rhetoric over conversation and potential compromise. What did they really accomplish? Is the situation any better for students as a result of this march? Isn't that what this is supposed to be about?
On a smaller scale. When we complain to and with our colleagues about various situations in our departments, in our buildings, in our districts, we create our own rhetoric. It can grow, and bring down morale. My challenge to you is to choose one area of your professional life that you are prone to complain about, and be proactive -- that may mean changing something on your own, working with colleagues to make a change, meeting with admin or union leaders, but make a change. One small change can change your outlook, raise your morale, and lead to bigger things.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Why We Need to Individualize Instruction
I've decided to start a new blog, not because I need one more thing to do, but because my other professional blog is intended to discuss technology in the foreign language classroom, and the more time I spend with my PLN, the more I find myself wanting to write about broader ideas about changing the way we go about "business as usual" in education.
My first post is an attempt to answer the question why do we need to individualize instruction. The answer is becuase I'm still "that kid". You know the one I mean. I sat in a workshop this morning -- Promethean Boards: The Basics. I got bored. If you've read any of the posts on my other professional blog, you're probably wondering why I would bother with a tech course entitled "The Basics" -- it's just asking for trouble. Here's the backstory. I am one of the few teachers left in my district without a Promethean Board. So I made it my mission to find ways to use other technologies to do what I needed to do. Then we were told that this fall everyone would have a Promethean board in their classroom. So, in an attempt to play nice, and since our admins have been known to randomly stop teachers at random in the hall to ask "Have you used technology today?" I decided to learn how to use the Promethean properly, and signed up for the workshop. Thank God for the internet, because I could have learned all the material covered in the workshop in about 20 min.
So I headed to hootsuite and followed a half dozen hashtags. I filled out my paperwork, and exploded my pen (that's when I truly realized I was "that kid"). I browsed Promethean Planet. I read a few blogs about using IWBs in class (incidentally finding many teachers of the opinion that they are merely expensive overhead projectors. -- See my other blog in a few weeks for my opinions.) I also helped the teacher next to me who -- despite step by step instructions for everything we did, repeated at least once each time -- still just didn't get it.
This is in no way a knock against that teacher. She's probably a math teacher, and I can barely count to ten -- on my fingers. My point is that we all have our strengths and weaknesses -- just like our students. This workshop did not meet my deeds, nor did it meet my colleague's needs -- she will likely be unable to replicate most of what was presented on her own. I don't think the presenter was at all aware of the disparity in our learning, because we were all presumed to be beginners.
It is true that we may have started at ground zero, but we all came from different backgrounds, with different comfort levels regarding technology, and different learning styles -- just like our students. As a professional, I was able to use the internet to quietly and independently expand my learning. Johnny Brilliant in my class, however, might alternatively use his boredom to text his friends to coordinate a flash mob in the admin suite at noon when the educators from Japan are due to visit. My colleague, as a professional, was willing to ask me for help, while Nora No Food in the House might get frustrated and just shut down. We aren't all the same. Neither are our students.
My challenge to you: Try flipping a lesson on one small concept. Create a 5-10 minute video or podcast for students to consume outside class. Come prepared the next day to teach each student individually where they are.
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