So, one of the big ideas we talked about in my class last night was the idea of the process of learning being an active, creative process, rather than a passive, receptive process. We've talked a lot about the failings of what the scholars call the "banking" model of teaching, in which students are the passive receptacles of a body of knowledge which teachers must pour into them. But while this intuitively makes sense, I've struggled with it because sometimes there are things that are simply facts which the students must know, and which they don't know already.
I don't want to go too far with saying one thing or another is true based simply on theory and readings, but the connection which makes sense to me is the juxtaposition of classroom teaching and Professional Development days that you often see in many districts.
I don't want to speak for every Professional Development system in every district, but what I've seen so far has been executed in a mode very much casting the teachers as passive recipients of the knowledge presented by some speaker. The things I've identified about this mode, at least as I've seen it done so far...
* Learners (who are themselves professional teachers in this case) are cast in a passive, receptive mode
* Material presented is simplified to the point of being demeaning to our intelligence and expertise as professionals in this area
--- composed of rigid, "one-size-fits-all" lesson plans or discipline/classroom management plans
--- cover the equivalent of the ABC's of pedagogy
--- present answers instead of questions
* Demands time that the participants feel resentful of and unrewarded by
By contrast, I also had an experience with the Mills Teachers Scholars, and am currently having an experience in my master's program, where each individual learner becomes a researcher as well, framing an inquiry project of their own design and carrying forth the research to study the topic and ultimately, present on it. This model...
* Casts learners as active experts who are creating knowledge through hard work, research, and personal insights
* Assumes intelligence on the part of the participants
--- presents questions, and learners do the work to find the answers themselves
--- tackles challenging questions of interest to the learners (rather than one-size-fits-all)
* Provides time, and so creates opportunity, for participants to pursue vigorous and meaningful learning opportunities according to their own interest and motivation.
So, in comparing these two modes of teacher learning, it's clear that there's no contest. One is a winner and the other isn't.
So why do we use the receptive mode in our classrooms?
Simply stating the theory, "students should be cast as creators of knowledge, not recipients," isn't as compelling to me as seeing the advantages and disadvantages of each model in action. The words themselves raise questions, complications can be found, edge cases--it's just not as clear. But comparing a model that works to a model that doesn't work gives me a more complete vision of not just the theory of what works and what doesn't, but an example of the practice that makes that possible.
So the question, then, is how can I create an environment in my own classroom in which students are creators of knowledge rather than recipients of knowledge?
Research projects are an obvious choice. And, to be fair, some of the most memorable moments from school come from research projects. (My data on that being personal experience and anecdotal.) When I hear students or former students talk with interest about a subject they studied, it's often one that they personally performed a weighty research project on.
But can this be executed in smaller, more daily ways? I mean, this ties into how it's good pedagogy to raise the question in the students mind before you answer it. Every day I give warmup questions. A lot of times the students don't know the answer, and they ask me. Does that count as casting them as creators of knowledge, with myself as the resource they turn to for answers? It seems roughly parallel to a mode in which students turn to encyclopedias or google for answers. But are they really motivated to answer that particular question, or are they simply carrying out rote behavior?
Moving away from rote behavior is key to putting students in the role of creators of knowledge. But...
Okay, here's another example. I'm trying to teach them grammar, right? So I have this set of powerpoint slides. They're wonderful and I'm doing one presentation a week, introducing a concept and then later reinforcing it with activities. This is basically casting students as passive receptacles of knowledge, right?
Is this an activity where it's appropriate for learners to just be passive recipients? Or is there a way I could cast them as the creators of knowledge? Have them do a research project on sentence structure, or something? Would that actually be any more successful?
Friday, November 14, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Days of Wonder
Today has been a wonderful day. Yesterday was Veteran's Day, and we got it off even though it fell on a Tuesday. This meant, for me, that I had one day off, a single, precious day that was unscheduled and un-spoken-for, in which to catch up on those things which need doing but don't fit in my regular schedule.
In this case, among other things, that meant getting two couches to put in my classroom, and a metric dumpton of food and snacks for the kids. So... well, naturally it was a good day :)
I like the idea of making the room comfortable for my kids. I feel that it's easier to learn if your basic needs are met--food and physical comfort. Sleep too, but I can't do much about that. (The couches are not for sleeping--at least not during classtime.) Previously, I had the two soft armchairs, but with them in the back of the room around a little table, that area became a magnet for students to gather and socialize--sometimes at the expense of class focus.
What I'm doing instead, this time, is lining up all the best seats, the two couches and the two armchairs, in a broad curve as the front row of seats in the room. Behind them are a couple cool little tables, and then the very last row is composed entirely of the least-desireable conjoined seat/desk hybrids that are so ubiquitous--and so unpleasant--in classrooms. The experiment now is to set the class up this way, so that the most desireable seats are in the front, and offer open seating. If all goes according to plan, this will draw students to fill up the front row of their own volition, without me having to either assign seats or crack the whip to explicitly call students to move forward.
I also had my master's class tonight, and instead of the usual exhaustion, I felt happy, even buoyant. When I'm not drained and braindead, this class is so wonderful for sparking ideas. Something about getting together, hearing other teacher's perspectives, and bouncing ideas around really gets the old brain juices flowing. But... in the spirit of trying to stick to one idea per blog post, I'll save those for future posts!
In this case, among other things, that meant getting two couches to put in my classroom, and a metric dumpton of food and snacks for the kids. So... well, naturally it was a good day :)
I like the idea of making the room comfortable for my kids. I feel that it's easier to learn if your basic needs are met--food and physical comfort. Sleep too, but I can't do much about that. (The couches are not for sleeping--at least not during classtime.) Previously, I had the two soft armchairs, but with them in the back of the room around a little table, that area became a magnet for students to gather and socialize--sometimes at the expense of class focus.
What I'm doing instead, this time, is lining up all the best seats, the two couches and the two armchairs, in a broad curve as the front row of seats in the room. Behind them are a couple cool little tables, and then the very last row is composed entirely of the least-desireable conjoined seat/desk hybrids that are so ubiquitous--and so unpleasant--in classrooms. The experiment now is to set the class up this way, so that the most desireable seats are in the front, and offer open seating. If all goes according to plan, this will draw students to fill up the front row of their own volition, without me having to either assign seats or crack the whip to explicitly call students to move forward.
I also had my master's class tonight, and instead of the usual exhaustion, I felt happy, even buoyant. When I'm not drained and braindead, this class is so wonderful for sparking ideas. Something about getting together, hearing other teacher's perspectives, and bouncing ideas around really gets the old brain juices flowing. But... in the spirit of trying to stick to one idea per blog post, I'll save those for future posts!
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Teaching Math vs. English - Skills, Interest and Learning
Today was gratifying. For the last two weeks, I've been running a special CAHSEE math study group. Today, in addition to the normal meeting, we had 1.5 hours optional after school. Not only did most of the class stay for it, but two students stayed an additional half hour after that, just because they were having fun.
The really cool thing? Those two who stayed were the same two black girls (and only two black girls in the school) who were the most disillusioned and disaffected at the beginning. By the end, they were laughing, solving complex problems, and saying things like, "I feel smart!"
It's been interesting doing this math study group. First, I've enjoyed it enough that at this point I feel really excited about pursuing a math credential, which my school wants me to do, but previously I'd been feeling a little leery of. Second, and perhaps more importantly, it's made me think about teaching English.
In math, there's a right answer. There's a tangible, demonstrable skill, attempts can be quickly iterated, and answers can be provably right or wrong. In a way, that makes it so much simpler than teaching English!
Looking at my English practice (and commonly the practice I've observed in other classrooms) there is little building of skills. A lot of the measure of success seems to be "did they understand what happened in this book/movie/poem?" While, sure, checking for understanding of the text seems to be a core aspect, it's hardly sufficient on it's own. That should be the /starting point/ not the end.
I have also seen classes where skills were emphasized to the exclusion of appreciating the story... and that was no better. All too often, an excessive emphasis on grammar or whatever quickly becomes overwhelming and undendurably dull.
So where's the happy middle ground? How do I teach hard, tangible, measurable English Skills, in a way that is both fruitful and fun?
I think a lot of the reason teaching math can become fun, even for struggling students, is when it becomes accessible enough that a) they feel a measure of success and triumph, and b) each new problem becomes another opportunity to triumph over a puzzle and get that rush again. Can that model even work in English?
Or, going back even further, what essential skills should I be trying to teach in English? I feel like the work we've been doing is worthwhile, but I also feel like it could be more.
The really cool thing? Those two who stayed were the same two black girls (and only two black girls in the school) who were the most disillusioned and disaffected at the beginning. By the end, they were laughing, solving complex problems, and saying things like, "I feel smart!"
It's been interesting doing this math study group. First, I've enjoyed it enough that at this point I feel really excited about pursuing a math credential, which my school wants me to do, but previously I'd been feeling a little leery of. Second, and perhaps more importantly, it's made me think about teaching English.
In math, there's a right answer. There's a tangible, demonstrable skill, attempts can be quickly iterated, and answers can be provably right or wrong. In a way, that makes it so much simpler than teaching English!
Looking at my English practice (and commonly the practice I've observed in other classrooms) there is little building of skills. A lot of the measure of success seems to be "did they understand what happened in this book/movie/poem?" While, sure, checking for understanding of the text seems to be a core aspect, it's hardly sufficient on it's own. That should be the /starting point/ not the end.
I have also seen classes where skills were emphasized to the exclusion of appreciating the story... and that was no better. All too often, an excessive emphasis on grammar or whatever quickly becomes overwhelming and undendurably dull.
So where's the happy middle ground? How do I teach hard, tangible, measurable English Skills, in a way that is both fruitful and fun?
I think a lot of the reason teaching math can become fun, even for struggling students, is when it becomes accessible enough that a) they feel a measure of success and triumph, and b) each new problem becomes another opportunity to triumph over a puzzle and get that rush again. Can that model even work in English?
Or, going back even further, what essential skills should I be trying to teach in English? I feel like the work we've been doing is worthwhile, but I also feel like it could be more.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
The Blackboard
For a while now I've been wanting to get into posting more regularly here, but everything always seems to be "go, go, go!" with one urgent task after another, and never any time to sit down and reflect, so I've had trouble finding the time for it. But I keep coming across these little discoveries or insights, and I'd like to record some of them here, to the best of my ability.
Hang on, my breakfast burrito is done in the microwave. This is important.
...
Okay, we can continue now. The question of course, is where to even begin. Pedagogy? The students? The school? The content?
Typically I would like to use my first regular post to do an overview, but there's so much to consider that even a weak attempt at an overview would fall well short of the mark while simultaneously being beyond the scope of a short blog post--as limited by the fact that my class starts in 25 minutes.
So instead, today, like future days (at least, according to plan), I'll focus on a single small aspect of the classroom. Today, I'd like to touch on the blackboard.
In the back of my classroom, there's a chalk board that I don't use for my teaching. It's behind all the students, I don't like using chalk anyway, and leaving it blank gives the students a space to express themselves. Inevitably it quickly becomes filled: names, dates, graffiti, and art seems to pop up there like mushrooms after rain.
Today, there is a work of art by one of the students, apparently from Nightmare Before Christmas. It's a beautiful swirling piece, with a couple standing on top of a jack-o-lantern hill. On the left side is a quickly drawn ghost haunting a house (we're approaching Halloween now) and below that the words, "Pray for Ronnie, I know you'll make it through this!" next to some graffiti. Given that at least two of my students have friends who have died of gunshot wounds, and at least two of my students have been injured by serious stabbing wounds, whatever risk Ronnie is in may be very serious.
I enjoy seeing what comes up on the board, both as works of art in their own right, and as expressions of my students thoughts and interests.
However, this question is not just one of aesthetic interest, it's also a question of practice: often the illustrations and words that appear there are, to put it mildly, not school-appropriate. Graffiti is especially challenging, as it's nearly indecipherable to my untrained eye. The stylized marks and letters, combined with a shorthand unique to that subculture, make it completely impenetrable to me.
Yesterday another teacher came into the room and gasped at what she saw in graffiti in the wall. Apparently it included things like, "kill the police" and other messages that she did not find appropriate.
So where do I draw the line? It seems unfair to ban anything I don't understand, and I want to make room for them to express themselves, but there are also certain expectations I must hold up as a teacher.
I think, as a practice for this blog, I'll be satisfied with raising a good question, even if I can't/don't answer it. So there it is.
Hang on, my breakfast burrito is done in the microwave. This is important.
...
Okay, we can continue now. The question of course, is where to even begin. Pedagogy? The students? The school? The content?
Typically I would like to use my first regular post to do an overview, but there's so much to consider that even a weak attempt at an overview would fall well short of the mark while simultaneously being beyond the scope of a short blog post--as limited by the fact that my class starts in 25 minutes.
So instead, today, like future days (at least, according to plan), I'll focus on a single small aspect of the classroom. Today, I'd like to touch on the blackboard.
In the back of my classroom, there's a chalk board that I don't use for my teaching. It's behind all the students, I don't like using chalk anyway, and leaving it blank gives the students a space to express themselves. Inevitably it quickly becomes filled: names, dates, graffiti, and art seems to pop up there like mushrooms after rain.
Today, there is a work of art by one of the students, apparently from Nightmare Before Christmas. It's a beautiful swirling piece, with a couple standing on top of a jack-o-lantern hill. On the left side is a quickly drawn ghost haunting a house (we're approaching Halloween now) and below that the words, "Pray for Ronnie, I know you'll make it through this!" next to some graffiti. Given that at least two of my students have friends who have died of gunshot wounds, and at least two of my students have been injured by serious stabbing wounds, whatever risk Ronnie is in may be very serious.
I enjoy seeing what comes up on the board, both as works of art in their own right, and as expressions of my students thoughts and interests.
However, this question is not just one of aesthetic interest, it's also a question of practice: often the illustrations and words that appear there are, to put it mildly, not school-appropriate. Graffiti is especially challenging, as it's nearly indecipherable to my untrained eye. The stylized marks and letters, combined with a shorthand unique to that subculture, make it completely impenetrable to me.
Yesterday another teacher came into the room and gasped at what she saw in graffiti in the wall. Apparently it included things like, "kill the police" and other messages that she did not find appropriate.
So where do I draw the line? It seems unfair to ban anything I don't understand, and I want to make room for them to express themselves, but there are also certain expectations I must hold up as a teacher.
I think, as a practice for this blog, I'll be satisfied with raising a good question, even if I can't/don't answer it. So there it is.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Reflections on the first month
What a month it's been! Getting into my classroom, meeting my students, establishing my procedures, getting my feet under me. Teaching is a wild ride, but I am so satisfied, it's almost hard to believe. I never thought I would be so happy with something I'm also getting paid for.
My only complaint so far is simply that I had so little warning and time for preparation before the semester started. They brought me on a week before classes started, and of that, I had only three days on site. The room I was supposed to use was still completely set up for a completely different teacher and a completely different subject--and no one was available to help me move all the things out of that room. So I spent all three days moving that teacher's stuff to another room and cleaning my room so I could use it. I didn't even have time to set it up properly after cleaning it, let alone plan my curriculum for the year.
As a result, I've been playing catch-up since then, and my students have paid the price. Instead of having a really solid plan, I've been only one-step ahead of the game. Or, as another new teacher in my class put it, "We're one step ahead of our students in a book we haven't read." Only now do I feel like I'm slowly starting to pull ahead of them. This is the first week I've had a real plan, and it's already feeling so much better.
Some observations...
On Timing
One thing I've realized is that 45 minutes is both less and more than it seems. Over 5 days, that comes to less than 4 hours. With no homework, those 3 hours and 45 minutes are all I get over an entire week. It's not a lot of time. As such, a lot of the activities I planned for to start with took longer than I would have liked. What I wanted to take 1-2 weeks ended up taking 3-4.
Part of this I think is related to what I talked about above: I didn't have a good plan. Without knowing what the next step is that you're striving towards, there's not much incentive to move briskly to get there. Instead, the incentive (subtle and unconscious though it may be) was for me to prolong activities and allow them to drag out, in order to buy myself more time to plan the next step. I don't like being in that position.
On Preliminary Assessments
So I have this idea I'm striving to bring into my classroom, which is to grade students based on accomplishment, not compliance and paperwork. The model I'm working with is that there are a half dozen areas I'm grading them in (Reading Mechanics, Reading Strategies, Writing Mechanics, Writing Strategies, Listening, and Speaking). My activities so far have oriented around doing preliminary assessments in each of those categories to determine their current skill level. (Those preliminary assessments are what took way-the-hell-too-long, and I will definitely strive for a faster way to complete them if I do this again in the future.)
So the big idea is that at the end of the semester, I can assess them again in each of those categories, and grade them based on their improvement.
This runs into a few challenges in practical application. First, students want regular progress reports. They like to know how well they are doing. Second, the school has a transient population, with new students entering and old students leaving on a semi-regular basis. I won't always have the preliminary assessments for every student to compare the final, summative assessments to, and in other cases, someone who took the preliminary assessments won't be around for the finals at the end.
The model I've landed on is this: I'll give regular activities in class a small amount of set points, for "participation" as much as anything else. These things are treated as formative assessments, so there's no penalty in grading if they "get it wrong." Instead, errors are treated only as opportunities for further learning--road signs, if you will, for me as the teacher, pointing me which direction I need to take the class. Then at the end, the summative assessments will be applied, compared to the students original scores in all these areas, and a comparatively quite large amount of points can then be obtained for demonstrated improvement in the six key skills.
I hope this will provide the best of both worlds. For students who are not present for both 'bookends' of assessment at the beginning and end of the semester, the regular small amount of points applied for everyday activities can serve as their grade. But for students who are here throughout the semester, I can apply my system and grade them based on measurable progress that they have made. Furthermore, I still have something I can show my students for progress reports, and even though those scores are just participation points, I believe the score is still meaningful, because honestly, I don't see how one would improve without participating in the key learning activities. I expect to find that participation scores will map quite reliably to improvement scores over the course of the semester.
On Planning
As I mentioned above, this week is the first time I've felt that I have a real plan in advance, and it makes a profound difference. I still haven't had time to plan for all four preps through the whole week, so I've still got some work to do on the later half of the week, but today I knew exactly what I was doing all day. Whenever I am prepared, I can feel how much more smoothly it goes.
The other thing I'm doing, that's hard to do without a solid plan in advance, is writing in transitions halfway through each period. When I have time to plan in advance, I can include two activities in the plan, and I know at the beginning of the period that I need to move the first activity along smoothly in order to have time for the second. This cuts down on the amount of time that I let slide by, getting distracted by the students or trying to corral them into whatever the activity for the day is. I'm not sure why exactly, but the transition halfway through seems to make the whole class feel more rich and focused. Instead of getting bored by spending 40 minutes on one thing (after the warmup) there's more of a variety of experiences. Some input and some output from the students, more of a multi-media, multi-channel experience that draws on more of their faculties. That's why it feels more rich.
Hopefully, I can stay ahead of my planning from now on, and keep including two activities and a transition in each class.
My only complaint so far is simply that I had so little warning and time for preparation before the semester started. They brought me on a week before classes started, and of that, I had only three days on site. The room I was supposed to use was still completely set up for a completely different teacher and a completely different subject--and no one was available to help me move all the things out of that room. So I spent all three days moving that teacher's stuff to another room and cleaning my room so I could use it. I didn't even have time to set it up properly after cleaning it, let alone plan my curriculum for the year.
As a result, I've been playing catch-up since then, and my students have paid the price. Instead of having a really solid plan, I've been only one-step ahead of the game. Or, as another new teacher in my class put it, "We're one step ahead of our students in a book we haven't read." Only now do I feel like I'm slowly starting to pull ahead of them. This is the first week I've had a real plan, and it's already feeling so much better.
Some observations...
On Timing
One thing I've realized is that 45 minutes is both less and more than it seems. Over 5 days, that comes to less than 4 hours. With no homework, those 3 hours and 45 minutes are all I get over an entire week. It's not a lot of time. As such, a lot of the activities I planned for to start with took longer than I would have liked. What I wanted to take 1-2 weeks ended up taking 3-4.
Part of this I think is related to what I talked about above: I didn't have a good plan. Without knowing what the next step is that you're striving towards, there's not much incentive to move briskly to get there. Instead, the incentive (subtle and unconscious though it may be) was for me to prolong activities and allow them to drag out, in order to buy myself more time to plan the next step. I don't like being in that position.
On Preliminary Assessments
So I have this idea I'm striving to bring into my classroom, which is to grade students based on accomplishment, not compliance and paperwork. The model I'm working with is that there are a half dozen areas I'm grading them in (Reading Mechanics, Reading Strategies, Writing Mechanics, Writing Strategies, Listening, and Speaking). My activities so far have oriented around doing preliminary assessments in each of those categories to determine their current skill level. (Those preliminary assessments are what took way-the-hell-too-long, and I will definitely strive for a faster way to complete them if I do this again in the future.)
So the big idea is that at the end of the semester, I can assess them again in each of those categories, and grade them based on their improvement.
This runs into a few challenges in practical application. First, students want regular progress reports. They like to know how well they are doing. Second, the school has a transient population, with new students entering and old students leaving on a semi-regular basis. I won't always have the preliminary assessments for every student to compare the final, summative assessments to, and in other cases, someone who took the preliminary assessments won't be around for the finals at the end.
The model I've landed on is this: I'll give regular activities in class a small amount of set points, for "participation" as much as anything else. These things are treated as formative assessments, so there's no penalty in grading if they "get it wrong." Instead, errors are treated only as opportunities for further learning--road signs, if you will, for me as the teacher, pointing me which direction I need to take the class. Then at the end, the summative assessments will be applied, compared to the students original scores in all these areas, and a comparatively quite large amount of points can then be obtained for demonstrated improvement in the six key skills.
I hope this will provide the best of both worlds. For students who are not present for both 'bookends' of assessment at the beginning and end of the semester, the regular small amount of points applied for everyday activities can serve as their grade. But for students who are here throughout the semester, I can apply my system and grade them based on measurable progress that they have made. Furthermore, I still have something I can show my students for progress reports, and even though those scores are just participation points, I believe the score is still meaningful, because honestly, I don't see how one would improve without participating in the key learning activities. I expect to find that participation scores will map quite reliably to improvement scores over the course of the semester.
On Planning
As I mentioned above, this week is the first time I've felt that I have a real plan in advance, and it makes a profound difference. I still haven't had time to plan for all four preps through the whole week, so I've still got some work to do on the later half of the week, but today I knew exactly what I was doing all day. Whenever I am prepared, I can feel how much more smoothly it goes.
The other thing I'm doing, that's hard to do without a solid plan in advance, is writing in transitions halfway through each period. When I have time to plan in advance, I can include two activities in the plan, and I know at the beginning of the period that I need to move the first activity along smoothly in order to have time for the second. This cuts down on the amount of time that I let slide by, getting distracted by the students or trying to corral them into whatever the activity for the day is. I'm not sure why exactly, but the transition halfway through seems to make the whole class feel more rich and focused. Instead of getting bored by spending 40 minutes on one thing (after the warmup) there's more of a variety of experiences. Some input and some output from the students, more of a multi-media, multi-channel experience that draws on more of their faculties. That's why it feels more rich.
Hopefully, I can stay ahead of my planning from now on, and keep including two activities and a transition in each class.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
English Teacher at Prospect High
What a journey! The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of job hunting, interviews, and, ultimately, setting up my classroom. But I'm proud to say that the intense search culminated in my receiving four offers on the same day (!) and accepting a job at Prospect High.
Prospect High is a wonderful little alternative school. It's in the Mt. Diablo school district, and they call it a "small, necessary" school. There are a few others of that ilk, and the idea of these "small, necessary" schools is that they serve students who do not thrive in a large school environment. There's a strong focus on community-building and creating a safe space, and the school seems to be quite effective at helping students recover credits and get to graduation. Unfortunately, the student test scores are not showing a high level of academic achievement, which is the main area we're trying to work on and improve this year.
I couldn't be happier to be at Prospect. There are a lot of things I'm looking forward to: small class sizes and fewer classes, for one thing, which allows more time for preparation and to give individual students a lot of attention. Because it's such a small school, there will also be a lot of opportunity to get to know each student very closely and really get involved in their life and academic progress. Furthermore, I'm in a position to help the students who need it the most.
But there are some unique challenges that come with this type of environment. Part of my purpose in this blog post is not just to announce the news of where I'm at, but to really identify what the challenges are and, for my own benefit as much as for the reader, start developing ideas for how to tackle those challenges. (Comments/suggestions also welcome!)
1) Having the same students in more than one class.
This is both a perk and a challenge. It is, in fact, one of the reasons I like this school, because I'll get to know the students more closely by having them in several classes throughout the day. There's only two teachers total in the whole school, so every student will be with one of us at all times.
The challenge comes in curriculum design, because I can't repeat material. At all. Ever. In a normal school, I might have two or three or even four periods of the same class. I only have to prepare one period worth of lesson plans for that class and I can use it several times. Then, by repeating it, I can refine it even over the course of a single day. In this case, every single class needs to use new material, which creates a huge demand on my lesson-planning time, especially since...
2) A lack of pre-existing curriculum
Again, this is both a perk and a challenge. I was looking for a place where I would have more freedom to design and use my own material, and, well... I found it!
I'm not complaining; I'm not. Because I really would rather have the freedom to design my own curriculum from the ground up. But let's be honest that that's a huge amount of work. I wouldn't have minded at least having a framework from the previous teacher which I could use. I have an idea what he didn't, but it wasn't very structured, there wasn't a sense of progressive development or building from one idea to the next over time, and it doesn't really match my style. So there you have it. Time to hit the books!
Of course, there's a reason that his curriculum didn't build over time, and that is...
3) Transient student body
Because of the nature of the school, students are entering and exiting all the time. They can be transferred to the school at any point in the year for a variety of reasons, and they also may transfer back to a regular school, or even graduate suddenly and leave, at any point in the year.
It's this fluctuating population that leads to the kind of de-centralized curriculum that has been used in Prospect in the past. When students are coming and going at all times, it makes sense to have a curriculum that doesn't build on itself in a progression over time, so that students can pick it up or leave with little warning and not be missing anything.
At the same time, I don't feel that that solution is adequate. A cohesive curriculum which builds on itself over time is so much stronger than a decentralized curriculum that taking that away for the sake of transferring students simply results, I think, in no one getting the benefit of a more structured education.
So, in essence, what I'm thinking of doing is pretty much designing a planned, progressive curriculum, and just accepting the fact that students will often miss part of the plan. At least the students who are around all year will get a stronger education, and we'll do the best we can to onboard new students who come in part way through.
4) Academically low-performing students, and wide variance of academic readiness
The students I'll have in my classroom will probably not be at their grade level in terms of reading, writing, and other academic English skills. What's more, they won't all be at some specific other grade level. Some will be at 4th grade reading level, others at 10th, and somehow I need to meet the needs of all those students.
How to deal with this yet, I'm not sure--all I know is I need to. The most important single principle in education, in my opinion, is that students need to be given material of the right challenge level in order for them to succeed. Too easy, and they get bored. Too hard, and they get overwhelmed. Either results in frustration, disengagement, and acting out.
But! If they can be given a challenge of the right level to meet their needs, they can experience the joy of learning, and that will make them want to come back for more. That moment, when I can see someone have the experience of figuring something out that they didn't know before and feeling good about it, is the moment I'm hoping to find this year.
I know that unless I can find a way to meet each student at his or her level, providing them with material of a challenge appropriate to their needs and readiness, I won't get to see that "Aha!" moment I crave.
5) Low Academic Self-Esteem Students
These will, most of them, be students who have failed in traditional schools. More than once. They will probably come in expecting to fail.
This has two challenges. First, that they won't believe that they can succeed--a self-fulfilling prophecy. And second, they will be primed for disobedience and disruption from their prior experiences in the classroom.
I'm going to have to not only be coach and mentor, cheering them on and convincing them that they CAN do it, but also be the completely imperturble adult, capable of deflecting their disruptive and anti-academic behavior, getting them back on track, and keeping the class stable and productive, all without alienating them on a personal level. Gosh, that sounds easy.
This is probably the part of the whole process that I'm most worried about, but I know that I'm not a socially weak or awkward person. I believe I have the ability to do it, but mostly I just need to go in with confidence, and pretend to any confidence I don't have. But what I do know is that making them feel comfortable, welcome, and "part of the team," is going to be the first step, absolutely mandatory before any true learning can occur.
In conclusion, I've certainly bitten off a lot in accepting this position, but I couldn't be more delighted. This is exactly what I wanted. The kind of position I almost didn't dare hope that I would get. I have the freedom to do things my own way and put into practice a lot of the ideas that have been bouncing around in the back of my head (more on some of these ideas and practices in future posts.) I have extra prep time, to help with the extra demand on curriculum building. And I'm in a school with low student population, where teachers are expected to develop strong personal relationships with students--my favorite part of teaching.
I feel like the cat who got into the cream. I feel like I'm cheating--like I've managed to trick them into letting me be a teacher, and I need to make sure no one finds out!
I feel like I'm ready for this year.
Prospect High is a wonderful little alternative school. It's in the Mt. Diablo school district, and they call it a "small, necessary" school. There are a few others of that ilk, and the idea of these "small, necessary" schools is that they serve students who do not thrive in a large school environment. There's a strong focus on community-building and creating a safe space, and the school seems to be quite effective at helping students recover credits and get to graduation. Unfortunately, the student test scores are not showing a high level of academic achievement, which is the main area we're trying to work on and improve this year.
I couldn't be happier to be at Prospect. There are a lot of things I'm looking forward to: small class sizes and fewer classes, for one thing, which allows more time for preparation and to give individual students a lot of attention. Because it's such a small school, there will also be a lot of opportunity to get to know each student very closely and really get involved in their life and academic progress. Furthermore, I'm in a position to help the students who need it the most.
But there are some unique challenges that come with this type of environment. Part of my purpose in this blog post is not just to announce the news of where I'm at, but to really identify what the challenges are and, for my own benefit as much as for the reader, start developing ideas for how to tackle those challenges. (Comments/suggestions also welcome!)
1) Having the same students in more than one class.
This is both a perk and a challenge. It is, in fact, one of the reasons I like this school, because I'll get to know the students more closely by having them in several classes throughout the day. There's only two teachers total in the whole school, so every student will be with one of us at all times.
The challenge comes in curriculum design, because I can't repeat material. At all. Ever. In a normal school, I might have two or three or even four periods of the same class. I only have to prepare one period worth of lesson plans for that class and I can use it several times. Then, by repeating it, I can refine it even over the course of a single day. In this case, every single class needs to use new material, which creates a huge demand on my lesson-planning time, especially since...
2) A lack of pre-existing curriculum
Again, this is both a perk and a challenge. I was looking for a place where I would have more freedom to design and use my own material, and, well... I found it!
I'm not complaining; I'm not. Because I really would rather have the freedom to design my own curriculum from the ground up. But let's be honest that that's a huge amount of work. I wouldn't have minded at least having a framework from the previous teacher which I could use. I have an idea what he didn't, but it wasn't very structured, there wasn't a sense of progressive development or building from one idea to the next over time, and it doesn't really match my style. So there you have it. Time to hit the books!
Of course, there's a reason that his curriculum didn't build over time, and that is...
3) Transient student body
Because of the nature of the school, students are entering and exiting all the time. They can be transferred to the school at any point in the year for a variety of reasons, and they also may transfer back to a regular school, or even graduate suddenly and leave, at any point in the year.
It's this fluctuating population that leads to the kind of de-centralized curriculum that has been used in Prospect in the past. When students are coming and going at all times, it makes sense to have a curriculum that doesn't build on itself in a progression over time, so that students can pick it up or leave with little warning and not be missing anything.
At the same time, I don't feel that that solution is adequate. A cohesive curriculum which builds on itself over time is so much stronger than a decentralized curriculum that taking that away for the sake of transferring students simply results, I think, in no one getting the benefit of a more structured education.
So, in essence, what I'm thinking of doing is pretty much designing a planned, progressive curriculum, and just accepting the fact that students will often miss part of the plan. At least the students who are around all year will get a stronger education, and we'll do the best we can to onboard new students who come in part way through.
4) Academically low-performing students, and wide variance of academic readiness
The students I'll have in my classroom will probably not be at their grade level in terms of reading, writing, and other academic English skills. What's more, they won't all be at some specific other grade level. Some will be at 4th grade reading level, others at 10th, and somehow I need to meet the needs of all those students.
How to deal with this yet, I'm not sure--all I know is I need to. The most important single principle in education, in my opinion, is that students need to be given material of the right challenge level in order for them to succeed. Too easy, and they get bored. Too hard, and they get overwhelmed. Either results in frustration, disengagement, and acting out.
But! If they can be given a challenge of the right level to meet their needs, they can experience the joy of learning, and that will make them want to come back for more. That moment, when I can see someone have the experience of figuring something out that they didn't know before and feeling good about it, is the moment I'm hoping to find this year.
I know that unless I can find a way to meet each student at his or her level, providing them with material of a challenge appropriate to their needs and readiness, I won't get to see that "Aha!" moment I crave.
5) Low Academic Self-Esteem Students
These will, most of them, be students who have failed in traditional schools. More than once. They will probably come in expecting to fail.
This has two challenges. First, that they won't believe that they can succeed--a self-fulfilling prophecy. And second, they will be primed for disobedience and disruption from their prior experiences in the classroom.
I'm going to have to not only be coach and mentor, cheering them on and convincing them that they CAN do it, but also be the completely imperturble adult, capable of deflecting their disruptive and anti-academic behavior, getting them back on track, and keeping the class stable and productive, all without alienating them on a personal level. Gosh, that sounds easy.
This is probably the part of the whole process that I'm most worried about, but I know that I'm not a socially weak or awkward person. I believe I have the ability to do it, but mostly I just need to go in with confidence, and pretend to any confidence I don't have. But what I do know is that making them feel comfortable, welcome, and "part of the team," is going to be the first step, absolutely mandatory before any true learning can occur.
In conclusion, I've certainly bitten off a lot in accepting this position, but I couldn't be more delighted. This is exactly what I wanted. The kind of position I almost didn't dare hope that I would get. I have the freedom to do things my own way and put into practice a lot of the ideas that have been bouncing around in the back of my head (more on some of these ideas and practices in future posts.) I have extra prep time, to help with the extra demand on curriculum building. And I'm in a school with low student population, where teachers are expected to develop strong personal relationships with students--my favorite part of teaching.
I feel like the cat who got into the cream. I feel like I'm cheating--like I've managed to trick them into letting me be a teacher, and I need to make sure no one finds out!
I feel like I'm ready for this year.
Friday, August 1, 2014
My Story
I have always been called to teaching, for the simple reason that education is the critical foundation of any civilization. It is education that raises us up to be more than animals, to teach us how to get along with one another in a peaceful, organized society. It is education which teaches each generation of the accomplishments and discoveries of previous generations, allowing the sum of human understanding to passed on, and to grow over time. Not to mention current social ills: education for women is the silver bullet that can absolutely, guaranteed, end skyrocketing birth rates and curb overpopulation, if only it could be reliably provided around the world.
How could one not be drawn to education?
It was always in the back of my mind that I wanted to come back to education someday, to become a teacher, maybe go into research, perhaps even start my own school (in the long run). But I knew that I couldn't go directly from student to teacher. That's why I took my twenties to explore. After graduating college, I worked a variety of odd jobs, saving up for an overseas trip. I spent almost a year in Asia, over two separate trips, teaching English and, ultimately, founding a small non-profit organization to raise environmental awareness among children in Nepal. That organization continues today under local leadership, Children for Green New Nepal.
Now, in my early thirties, I feel that I have the diversity of life experience to justify becoming a teacher. There's more to teaching than academic knowledge. I hope I'll never stop learning, but at last I feel like I'm a step farther than I was right out of college, ready to go back and have something unique to offer my students in high school.
In the long run, I still have grand visions of changing the face of education, but I know that that dream, while a wonderful star to reach for, can come neither quickly or easily. There is no fast track. While I may return to research some day, with an aim toward developing a new model of education, I know that there are many years teaching ahead of me before I'll feel prepared to take that step.
Today, my goals are much more grounded, but no less difficult: provide a space where every student in my class can grow and learn. Meet the needs of a diverse body of students, each of whom is unique in cultural background, social background, and academic readiness. Make my classroom a safe space.
I can't wait to meet my class!
How could one not be drawn to education?
It was always in the back of my mind that I wanted to come back to education someday, to become a teacher, maybe go into research, perhaps even start my own school (in the long run). But I knew that I couldn't go directly from student to teacher. That's why I took my twenties to explore. After graduating college, I worked a variety of odd jobs, saving up for an overseas trip. I spent almost a year in Asia, over two separate trips, teaching English and, ultimately, founding a small non-profit organization to raise environmental awareness among children in Nepal. That organization continues today under local leadership, Children for Green New Nepal.
Now, in my early thirties, I feel that I have the diversity of life experience to justify becoming a teacher. There's more to teaching than academic knowledge. I hope I'll never stop learning, but at last I feel like I'm a step farther than I was right out of college, ready to go back and have something unique to offer my students in high school.
In the long run, I still have grand visions of changing the face of education, but I know that that dream, while a wonderful star to reach for, can come neither quickly or easily. There is no fast track. While I may return to research some day, with an aim toward developing a new model of education, I know that there are many years teaching ahead of me before I'll feel prepared to take that step.
Today, my goals are much more grounded, but no less difficult: provide a space where every student in my class can grow and learn. Meet the needs of a diverse body of students, each of whom is unique in cultural background, social background, and academic readiness. Make my classroom a safe space.
I can't wait to meet my class!
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