This fall I’ll begin my 10th year as a teacher. There seems something monumental, with a dash of stoicism, and a hefty side of time-warp vertigo about that. Not sure what to think.
For traditional wedding anniversaries, the tenth year is celebrated with something of tin or aluminum. (I’m a sucker for recreating traditions.) First year is paper, sixth candy, etc. I played around in my mind what would we give teachers for their anniversaries? Paper, of course, in the form of books and craft stock. Cotton: comfortable socks, shirts, clothing, cotton handkerchiefs to wipe away tears and blow noses; leather satchels and book bags; fruit and flowers, naturally, to brighten and create health. Wood? Pencils. And lots of them. Candy –yes please. (Although I’ll take mine in the form of cashews and crisps.) Iron? Iron to stay strong, when our blood depletes, becoming anemic, because we don’t have time to take care of ourselves. Wool: mittens, hats, scarves, hobbies–yes! Knitting as a hobby to relieve stress. (That may have been the year I made the World’s Longest Scarf.) Pottery? Replacing cracked classroom objects–the baskets, the desk lamps, the pencil holders? Freshen up desk items, replace tape dispensers and red Swingline staplers? And now we’re back to willow/pottery: willow? Maybe a bamboo plant or something green to work its freshness and vibrancy, a little corner of zen and hopeful feng shui? But tin and aluminum–I’m stumped. All I can think about are cans of Diet Coke or tin-can telephones. I don’t drink pop anymore, really, and tin reminds me of rhythmic, dull, thudding sounds.
But maybe I am not thinking about this correctly: tin is the Tin Man, of course! Sometimes, due to his own misguided notions about what’s important, loses his way, and loses his heart. It takes courage and honesty to get it back, and cannot be done without friends. I had a draft of this post: its timeline bored me. Counting the number of principals, achievements, classes, contributions and connections is a valuable exercise, however that historical record is a little dry. (And no one cares about when I was curriculum leader, or on what committee, or consistent contributions I’ve made: everyone wants results, and to be acknowledged for their heroism. Personal histories are dull and rusting.)
But I can count my friends and colleagues: babies born, death, loss, joy, marriages, excitement and trepidation about change and transitions (I’ve friends whose children went to college before my older son, and some who have children about to go this fall: it’s not a road we’re traveling together, but crossing a bridge). I think I’ll go buy myself some WD-40 an put it on my desk, just as a metaphor of keeping the flow going. These friends of mine: they keep my heart beating.
The Common Core-aligned Smarter Balanced exams, Elijah was told, were grueling — but Washington state didn’t require this year’s juniors to pass them to graduate from high school. In fact, the only thing compelling Elijah to take the tests this past spring was No Child Left Behind, the federal law. And, by federal standards, Elijah’s school was all but certain to be labeled “failing” whether he passed the tests or not.
When something doesn’t matter, why bother?
Testing Revolt in Washington State Brings Feds Into Unchartered Waters: this headline hit home. Last year my younger son was a junior, and many of his friends opted-out. We sat on the fence too long, mostly due to the fact I felt conflicted and indecisive–and at that time I wish I was ‘just a mom’ and not a teacher, too. I envied other parents who could boldly make this choice and help their students children take a stand about their lives. This is not the first time my teacher-life and my parent-life were at odds.
The thing is: those kids did not sign up for that. It was a broken promise in a way. They started kindergarten in 2003,(?) and will be the graduating class of 2016. They were raised on EALRs/GLEs, and then cut to CCSS late in the game. They were not left behind while racing to the top, and now they’re going to achieve. It’s all about the money, always has been, and our children are the commodity. And I am not being idealistic or capricious when I speak of money: money is important. Getting adequate funding for our students is the only political job we have. But please: can we remember that it’s our tax dollars, our public trust that our children are entitlement (wow, is that a loaded word) to a free, public, and excellent education. If the test serves no purpose to help them achieve their goals in the world, it serves no purpose at all. It needs to go. If it doesn’t inform a child in his or her path for their strength and weaknesses, and help them clarify their path, again, it’s a waste of time and money. To be clear, I am not against CCSS, nor the SBA: the two are not working in concert, however. The CCSS are flexible, but in the wrong interpretation can be too ambiguous for some educators; the SBA is too new, and not as transparent as it should be.
And in saying this what will happen is the powers that be will ‘make it count,’ and the only narrow way to get out of high school into something else is by passing this test. Scylla and Charybdis must be cracking up. These words are used as a curse, as a ‘be careful what you wish for,’ because we are not going to let you go that easily. So what looks like safe passage may be an illusion. I’m not sure how the new mandate is going to help. There are these dire warnings:
“After we were clear of the river Oceanus, and had got out into the open sea, we went on till we reached the Aeaean island where there is dawn and sun-rise as in other places. We then drew our ship on to the sands and got out of her on to the shore, where we went to sleep and waited till day should break.”
My younger son’s odyssey with public education tells as many tales as Odysseus, including cyclops (there’s always that “one” teacher), sirens (Minecraft, Kerbal Space Program), eating of the lotus (Diet Coke and gummy bears), and even respite and relaxation (drum line, robotics, and geology next year).
He’ll graduate next year; maybe without the best GPA, and his HSPE and SBA won’t “count” for colleges. What a waste of time. Only his GPA and perhaps his higher-than-average SAT.
What angers me is how many things “don’t count” for him or hundreds, maybe thousands of other students. He’ll have to move mountains and boulders to find his young adulthood path, and after years of being told what he was good at, where he excelled “didn’t count” no wonder he feels fatigued. I imagine he is not alone. Where are those creative and grand ideas that others speak of, and do? Why can’t his and every other school in our nation offer the very best in excellent, authentic curriculum and opportunities to show mastery?
Writing to visual prompts is one of students’ favorite and most engaging things to do. It generates fruitful opportunities for a variety of perspectives, questions, mode (genre) and forms (delivery system) of writing.
To that end, I’ve been collecting visual prompts for years, and have fallen in love with Pinterest (late to the party, I know) as a means of collecting ideas:
I am a proponent of the well-timed anecdote, the personal connection that makes content relatable and relevant.
There’s been a movement, or perhaps a misunderstanding of the new standards, to make the classroom so student-focused it’s lost sight of the other human in the room: the teacher.
Consistent with these NAEP recommendations, the Common Core Standards for Language Arts now call for an “overwhelming focus of writing throughout high school to be on arguments and informative/ explanatory texts” and that the distribution of writing purposes across grades “should adhere to those outlined by NAEP” (NGA/ CCSSO 2010e, 5). This de-emphasis on narrative writing is a mistake.
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 1870-1873). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
But here is something we all know – we know we don’t start off in life as “teachers” (at least I didn’t, far from it) but simply ourselves. No matter what we end up doing for a profession, we have our stories first.
The best teachers, doctors, lawyers, salespersons, managers, nurses, CEOs, taxi drivers, scientists, football coaches, and politicians have one thing in common: the ability to connect with people through storytelling. Being able to tell a good story is not a school skill, it is a life skill, and as such, it should be given greater, not less, emphasis. If we want our students to be good storytellers, they need to read and write more narratives.
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 1873-1876). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
And if you need more proof that “yes you will use narrative writing in ‘real life,’:
Using Narratives and Storytelling to communicate science with non-expert audiences: Abstract:Although storytelling often has negative connotations within science, narrative formats of communication should not be disregarded when communicating science to nonexpert audiences. Narratives offer increased comprehension, interest, and engagement. Nonexperts get most of their science information from mass media content, which is itself already biased toward narrative formats. Narratives are also intrinsically persuasive, which offers science communicators tactics for persuading otherwise resistant audiences, although such use also raises ethical considerations. Future intersections of narrative research with ongoing discussions in science communication are introduced.
Keywords: persuasion, ethics
From Writing Narratives About Science: Advice from People Who Do It Well by Maryn McKenna: To me the most important tool for telling narrative is time. Not just time within the narrative, which is what allows you to tell the story as a chronology, but time for research and reporting before you begin writing. Really good narratives are grounded in memorable characters confronting difficult problems, and it takes a lot of research time up-front to identify them.
“Confronting difficult problems:” the mothers who choose not to have their children vaccinated, or the husband who supports his wife during breast cancer treatment, or the teenage girl struggling with an unwanted pregnancy. Real stories, with wide implications. And as we share our own stories, consider the same parameters we provide students: audience awareness, risk taking, language, and intent.
There are many scholarly articles about the use of narrative in multiple professions if you need additional research-based rationale if you’re ‘caught talking during class.’ Balance, of course, is always the rule of the day.
What do you write about when you write as a ‘person’ and not necessarily a ‘teacher person?’
Teachers need one for Shame, Student Success Joy, Professional Guide, and Data Wrangler.
Come on old brain, learn some new tricks! Is it possible to re-program a brain to think differently, not focus on the negative, but wash away shameful thoughts and quickly suture confidence? Hope so. Remember, there’s no such thing as overnight success, people! I have faith–I’m a writer, after all. Whatever that means. (Maybe I need Journalist Inner Voice, too?)
The other day I had a gift of an opportunity to discuss ideas for next year: it was a good chance to listen to new directives and possibilities. My local professional circle is characterized by folks of immeasurable generosity, new connections and long-time colleagues. I have been attempting to do planning now for next year, anticipating and adapting for students’ needs. I have a lot of questions about new directions, and am desperately trying to sort out the most important things. But me and my big mouth. Unfortunately, I wrote something in an e-mail that was too strident in tone, and I wish I could have the chance to say it differently, because what I was trying to say matters. Because I said it in a matter-of-fact way the perception (and understandable) may have been that I was being petulant and stubborn, not action-oriented. From that point, what got lost, because of my own stupidity, was the potential for a great discussion about the bigger ideas. I mishandled it, and made it worse. Talk about the alarm bells going off! There isn’t a homunculus personified emotion representation for how it feels to feel ashamed at allowing the conversation to veer off into personality ditches. Where is the “Beating Yourself Up” inner voice?
My new homunculus: Inner Monk
Here was the big idea: there are solid concepts, enduring understandings, and pedagogical foundations that transcend change. A few examples may be the concept of Name, Voice, Identity, Social Justice, History Repeats, Monomyth Studies/Archetypes, Storytelling Over Time, etc. These themes in the Humanities are transformative for generations of students. The time and place, however, for these deep discussions about instruction is something I need to work on, big time. But what steps to take, which direction to go?
As we shift toward focused, skill-based conversations about instruction and less about the means of delivery, I know I’m blessed–the empowerment of teacher choice and autonomy is huge, and that message was clearly communicated, for which I am grateful.
Keep in mind, the standards are helpful in guidance, but not necessarily these ‘big view’ ideas:
Before we myopically fixate on any set of new standards, teachers and administrators would be well served to remind themselves two things about the new standards: (1) teachers who religiously follow them are being asked to do things that are not in the best interest of our students, and (2) these new standards will one day be ushered out the door to make room for the next generation of “improved” standards. When first introduced, new standards come with a certain gravitas— a gravitas, however, that is unlikely to persist. One study, How Well Are American Students Learning? The 2012 Brown Center Report on American Education, notes that “standards with real consequences are most popular when they are first proposed. Their popularity steadily declines from there, reaching a nadir when tests are given and consequences kick in.
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 157-162). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
Most of the time I am in the role of listener. I listen to directives, agendas, targets, and translating subtext. (Translating subtext is a skill I wish I could shed, however. Blessing in the classroom when I’m listening to a student, a curse when I recognize others are not synthesizing or integrating concepts, or I’m failing at communication.) I am the receiver of others’ decisions and discussions, and no longer at the local ‘big kids table.’ And that is totally okay.
Choosing time and place is tricky. It was a great discussion about logistics and philosophies, and that’s really important. I listened, and listened deeply, to the bigger message. It’s possible, and perhaps preferable, to keep those big idea conversations in my own head as I clean out the mental teacher clutter. I am an ambivert, and need processing time. However, that internal monologue at some point needs to be external: I love my partnerships and collaboration, and am so grateful for PLNs (Professional Learning Networks). So the take-away: not all conversations should be about the means of delivery of instruction. This is where a PLN (Professional Learning Network) is a lifesaver.
Ah, but what a gift that is: I am free to create on my own, and collaborate with whom I choose. One of my passionate PLN connections has, and will forever be, with the National Writing Project. I can’t wait for the first of two workshops starting tomorrow. I have things to pack my lunch, and extra snacks! (I might even write myself a note to put in my lunch bag: they’ll command, “Make Me Proud!” and “Make Good Choices!”)
PSWP Writing Workshop | One of the pillars of the National Writing Project is that teachers of writing should write. In this class we immerse ourselves in the writing workshop, focusing on ourselves as writers. We spend time writing, working in writing groups, sharing craft lessons, and reflecting on our writing process. Genre for your writing is open; craft lessons focus on memoir, article writing, and fiction. We welcome anyone who teaches.
PSWP Reading and Writing in ELA and Social Studies | This class focuses on language arts and social studies content and how to approach the new thinking and skill demands of the Common Core. We explore strategies for teaching students to think, read, and write in English, social studies, and/or humanities classes. This engaging class is inquiry-based, hands-on, and practical.
This past June, one of the nicest things an exiting teacher told me was to keep her on my ‘tech tips’ e-mail list; she loves those tips, and wanted to make sure she was still included. No one pays me for those, and oftentimes I thought they were either annoying folks, or being sucked into a vacuum. This local PLN heartened me greatly.
I strongly encourage you to curate your own PLN: Three Steps for Building a Professional Learning Network by Brianna Crowley. My own Twitter account, @mrskellylove, has a wide variety of interest and friends, as well as professional connections. (I am not so great at delineating knowledge and curiosity from multiple sources.)
There are hundreds of potential PLN connections, from politics, to social studies, authors, researchers, science, math, current issues to history. Caution: once you fall down this rabbit hole it’s tough to get back out. But you won’t want to–it’s a safe place to discuss big ideas. And the coffee is just how you like it.
My brother-in-law (my husband’s brother) possesses a skill that fascinates me: he understands personality assessments better than anyone I know, and how to apply his knowledge adroitly. He is not some flash-in-the-pan self-titled self-help guru, nor does he pontificate unless the audience (me) is a willing listener and learner. He came out to visit recently, and over breakfast I shared some of my reflections about my past year of teaching, and some issues that were still causing me anxiety. After careful listening, he summed it up this way:
“You’re the black sheep.”
But not nearly as cute in a PLC meeting…
His findings derive from Stephen R. Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, but I’ll be darned if I can find any reference to the black sheep personae in the work place. (I’ll read it for myself, because there is always something to learn.) In any case, the black sheep is the one who stands out, stands up, puts their neck on the block, cries wolf, (but real ones) and instead of the intentional help and support, merely ends up losing trust of those they love and respect most. I thought I was a crusader, a paladin/protector, but turns out I am just annoying people.
How to turn back to grace? My brother-in-law mentioned there’s a formula of sorts: 8:1 ratio of positive things to one negative, and the voila! Trust is regained. What about the wolf?! No one cares: his advice was to get a witness. Don’t go after it alone.
Well, crud. My words and advice are heard as the bleating of sheep. (He mentioned unsolicited advice is never, ever listened to. There goes my mom talent.) Great. My anthropomorphic glory resides in stinky fleece, not lions’ manes or peacock struts. Last fall he said I was a ‘traditionalist’ and now I’m a ‘black sheep.’ (After reading a description about traditionalists, however, I am not too comfortable with this label, as I slouch toward speaking in generalizations while my guard is down.)
But our professional lives have to be more than just archetypes and personification, right? Maybe? The question I asked my husband this morning hit at the heart of what is on my mind now: in his years of of being a digital pioneer, teaching himself every conceivable programming and computer design nuance, code, application, and creating original games and apps, how does he sift through what’s most important to mentally keep, and what’s not? He is going to get back to me.
I wish there was another word for ‘overwhelmed’ right now, because to say I feel overwhelmed is an understatement. I am desperate for a deep conversation about what is MOST important to pull from the flotsam and jetsam from my nine years of teaching, over 1,215 students, 1620 days, three different state tests, two Federally mandated programs, six administrators, racing to the top while leaving no child behind, and one new teacher evaluation system to rule them all. Is it hot in here or did I just see two Hobbits run by?
Well, dang–time to visit the wizard, Kelly Gallagher. I just started reading his new book, In the Best Interest of Students, Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom, and I feel a huge sense of relief. Already his clear, honest organization of what has transpired, and what is positive and negative about the current state of affairs in education provided true clarity and validation. Here are my first impressions:
All Good Things Come to Holistic ELA Instruction.
Writing and reading in the curriculum remains interconnected, co-dependent, and in harmony. He says it, he restates it, and underscores it in ways that others will listen to. (I haven’t built up my 8:1 ratio yet.) He remarks that many teachers (when writing was not being tested), didn’t teach it, and now students are paying the price.
Writing instruction should be a nonnegotiable, core value in any classroom, and teachers should not have to be concerned with fitting it in. The question “How do you fit in writing instruction around the new standards?” is the wrong question. The correct question should be, “How do you fit in all of the standards around your writing instruction?”
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 243-245). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
All Good Things Come in A Continuum
I am reminded of my Costa’s Levels of Questions work, and where I’ve always said no one should expect students to swim in the deep end of the pool all the time, to please respect all the levels of thinking, to show a continuum, the ‘not yet,’ and please don’t put obstacles in good teachers’ ways.
This is a great lesson idea, one I can easily adopt in practice:
Deeper reading starts with a literal understanding of the text. If students cannot figure out what the text is saying— if they cannot retell what is happening— then moving into closer reading and deeper understanding will be impossible. You have to recognize who is a Capulet and who is a Montague before any rich understanding of Romeo and Juliet can take place. When it comes to making sure my students know what the text says, I start by introducing a series of summary activities. The ability to write summaries is an often overlooked and underrated skill. They are hard to fake, and they give me a quick, formative assessment of what my students understand (and what they are missing in their initial reading). When introducing the skill of summarizing, I start very simply and scaffold my students up from there. Here are some activities I have my students do to sharpen their summary skills: 17-Word Summaries My students were just beginning to read Lord of the Flies (Golding 1962). I walked them into Chapter 1 by reading the first few pages of the chapter to them and then asked them to complete the reading of the chapter on their own. Before we really dove into the later chapters of the novel, I wanted to see if they understood what was happening in Chapter 1, so I chose a student at random and asked her to pick a number between ten and twenty. She chose seventeen, so I asked my students to write seventeen-word summaries of the chapter. Not eighteen words. Not sixteen words. Seventeen, and exactly seventeen words. Here are some of their responses: Ralph and Piggy are stranded, but with the help of a conch shell, they discover more kids. —Alicia
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 427-440). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
All Good Things Come to Those Who Read. Books.
Do not feel once moment of guilt, hesitation, or concern if someone comes in your room and observes a teacher read-aloud or students silently reading. Not every thing needs to be a ‘close reading’ lesson. Don’t buy into the hype. Close reading is a skill for students to employ in order to enjoy texts more, not less, to give them the independent a-ha moments and connections, both literature and non-fiction. But that’s it.
Because close reading of short passages is valued by the tests, some teachers are overdoing having students analyze short passages. Conversely, the tests do not measure a student’s ability to hold his or her thinking across 300 pages, so less emphasis is placed on having students analyze longer works.
Gallagher, Kelly (2015-02-28). In the Best Interest of Students: Staying True to What Works in the ELA Classroom (Kindle Locations 338-340). Stenhouse Publishers. Kindle Edition.
Ba Ram Ewe.
The thing is, as my husband says, no one really knows what they’re doing, and no one’s in charge. Truly. This isn’t a fatalistic sentiment, it’s actually quite liberating. I am in as much control, or lack thereof, as anyone else. This is the essence of growth mindset: ask good questions, listen for good answers, and don’t be afraid to share your own expertise.
And read a Kelly Gallagher book.
To my esteemed colleagues: how do you keep from getting overwhelmed with change, and focusing on what’s meaningful and critical for your best practices?
Over they years multiple “big projects” have been my honor to lead, collaborate, and work on: novel units, curriculum maps, and curriculum adoption to name a few. In an effort to help clarify the sometimes subtle differences between the terms, I’ve endeavored to set sail and navigate some of these stormy seas. This may be one pivotal reason why I continue to appreciate the culture of my district, because by and large it appreciates and, outwardly at least, respects qualified teachers to make flexible instructional decisions without being in a lock-step or canned curriculum. This flexibility and agency to steer instruction as needed is not without some peril, and requires a great deal of preparation and reflection. It’s work I love to do, and is my passion, and whether I’m the ‘captain’ or a dinghy rower, it’s all part of a greater armada.
So to help clarify some terms, and get us out of the rock and hard place discussion, here is the best guidance I can offer:
Curriculum Maps
They’re not called maps by mistake. Think of any great map: it doesn’t necessarily tell you where or why to go, but how to get there, and what you may encounter along the way. Consider the range or scope of maps, too: universal, global, to the smallest micro-view of any terrain. Maps have keys, legends, scales of time and distance, too. So do strong curriculum maps. My district is in the process of creating a new curriculum map/units of study guide. I conflate the two because they are using the term ‘units’ to contain a set of related standards and suggested texts.
Note: I might include place for related media, too: short films, photographs or paintings, etc. This would carry these standards:
CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.8.7 Analyze the extent to which a filmed or live production of a story or drama stays faithful to or departs from the text or script, evaluating the choices made by the director or actors.
CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.W.8.2.A Introduce a topic clearly, previewing what is to follow; organize ideas, concepts, and information into broader categories; include formatting (e.g., headings), graphics (e.g., charts, tables), and multimedia when useful to aiding comprehension.
CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.SL.8.2 Analyze the purpose of information presented in diverse media and formats (e.g., visually, quantitatively, orally) and evaluate the motives (e.g., social, commercial, political) behind its presentation.
Novel Units may focus on one novel, but that one novel may be part of a larger text comparison unit, or an even larger Unit of Study (Journey of the Hero with leveled/varying interests texts, etc.) The novel unit may focus on one thematic enduring understanding, or again, take part in a larger scope. There is really only one unbreakable rule when teaching a novel unit, and that is to read the novel first. Creating anticipatory guides, pre and post assessments, create a space for literature response groups (small group instruction, Socratic seminars, book projects, individual and group work, potential vocabulary lessons, character development, literary terms, etc. all play a crucial role in novel unit creation. But most importantly: what are students going to walk away with from their time spent on this novel?
Caution: when you read novels with the purpose of teaching novels, it’s hard to put those wings back on the butterfly:
Professors also read, and think, symbolically. Everything is a symbol of something, it seems, until proven otherwise. We ask, Is this a metaphor? Is that an analogy? What does the thing over there signify? The kind of mind that works its way through undergraduate and then graduate classes in literature and criticism has a predisposition to see things as existing in themselves while simultaneously also representing something else. Grendel, the monster in the medieval epic Beowulf (eighth century a.d.), is an actual monster, but he can also symbolize (a) the hostility of the universe to human existence (a hostility that medieval Anglo-Saxons would have felt acutely) and (b) a darkness in human nature that only some higher aspect of ourselves (as symbolized by the title hero) can conquer. This predisposition to understand the world in symbolic terms is reinforced, of course, by years of training that encourages and rewards the symbolic imagination.
Foster, Thomas C. (2014-02-25). How to Read Literature Like a Professor Revised: A Lively and Entertaining Guide to Reading Between the Lines . HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.
There are multiple sources for PBL and PBL, and Maker-Space Learning. Project-Based Learning can include Problem based, but Problem-based is specifically a ‘real world’ issue with an applicable outcome. Maker-spaces allow us all to find flexibility and creativity within a physical dimension.
An expert inthis conversation is John Spencer. I admit I was doing ‘maker spaces’ long before this term was coined, but I just called it blending art and literacy. (Learning how to make Japanese folded books is one of my favorites.) If you have a principal who is not fond of messes, this can be problematic, but I am grateful that the term “maker space” is in place now so those who don’t like to see chaos and mess can now be told it’s ‘research based.’ (Nothing like getting validation for the best practices you were doing anyway!)
Constructive and Deconstructive Approaches
Now underlying all of this is a soup of making meaning, engagement, and critical thinking skills. I encourage during the process of creating any unit or map to consider constructivism, and deconstructivsim. During the assessment data analysis, if you see students are in the ‘I don’t get it’ spot still, have them pull the lesson apart. That’s when it is clearly time for the ‘teacher talk’ to cease, and approach the learning from a different view point.
Any other thoughts about the essential pieces of curriculum planning? Oh yes – my mentor’s superlative pearl of wisdom: ask how can things go wrong: try to anticipate those scenarios, and it should be relatively smooth sailing. And then be prepared for those teachable moments!
Sometimes I wonder how we adults take a stance on things we do not do well ourselves: sometimes we don’t get it right when it comes to social media etiquette, so how can we expect our students to do so? We are all connected and wired to one another, and have equally sized megaphones drowning out respect and ideas. Determining when to cut loose or when to strengthen bonds is challenging sometimes. My decade-long love affair with the written word on a computer screen is still in the honeymoon phase. But not all my friends and colleagues have enjoyed this delicious means of communication. Mordechai Luchins wrote an article for GeekDad, “Why You Should Teach Your Kids to Unfriend Without Guilt.” The take-away:
Remember, your feed/wall is your digital home. If you see that someone is not someone you’d want to invite to hang out in your real house, why would you invite them into your virtual one?
We haven’t had guests in our real home in a long time: this weekend my brother-in-law is coming out for some July 4th hijinks: it was great to have this real goal of getting the house back in some shape: it’s not a dirty house, but became cleaner. We pushed to get our air conditioning fixed, and did other house projects. Point being: we do decide how we want to present ourselves in our real and digital lives. Be mindful, and hopeful. There are some rules of thumb, though, you may want to keep in mind (and help students understand, too).
3. Be clear in intent: I cannot help or defend when someone thinks I’m self-promoting, self-aggrandizing, or proselytizing. To be fair, if someone knows me well, they know I am a thinker and curious. Sometimes this ‘seeing all sides’ thing drives my husband crazy, who is capable of seeing a situation or controversy in clean lines. Since being judged as someone who is just a pot-stirrer, I am increasingly mindful of stating intent in potentially controversial posts. But I reserve the right to state a claim, too.
4. Perspective. The Internet has done a great job at creating a chum-bucket of click bait. If you intend to litigate every post, you will have no time to watch those cat videos. Be respectful of perspectives, and don’t lose sight that people bring a whole lot of unspoken personal truths with them everywhere they go, virtual spaces most of all.
5. Share and Share Alike. If you link an article or idea that someone else has written a statement or idea about, link the entire thing, including their comment or insight. You are welcome to state your own ideas/opinions in your forum.
6. Share and Shake It Off. If someone forgets to @yournamehere, let it go, too. The Internet is an echo chamber, and inherently serves the intention and will to repost and share good articles and ideas. What fascinates me is how it’s altered the art of conversation: our minds work like Reddit feeds now: layer upon layer, so far down the rabbit hole, we can’t possibly keep track of everything that sparks our interests.
7. No Quarter. If you still see someone’s posts, but they never comment on yours or give you a ‘thumb’s up,’ it means they’ve hidden your posts; you’re not ‘unfriended.’ In my personal experience, I can only infer that I have posted way too many controversial/political posts and it’s fatiguing for most colleagues. It’s okay. Curate your own information, too. (Pinterest has become my haven for my virtual bulletin boards, as has Tumblr.)
8. U and Me. Don’t assume everything posted by a colleague is their personal gospel: perhaps they are wanting to engage a conversation about a topic and get different points of view. I know that is why I post many things, because I am curious, not judgmental. I enjoy thinking about something from many perspectives. (See #3.)
9. Sins. We humans, so full of flaws. I have had to hide friends’ posts because I can’t see one more shot of their toes in Hawaiian surf, or when someone pontificates in political diatribe that offers no room for dialogue. It’s not that I don’t want them to have their vacation, of course I do, and I truly honor free speech. But these things can distract us from our core selves, and get our own purposes splintered.
Though this is intended for business, it serves us educators, too: (Click to make larger.)
10. Fuggedaboutit. As my esteemed friend says, Rule #10 is break the rules. If it’s important to you to say and think, you will find a way to do so. Nothing is as protected as a good, old-fashioned journal or idea list.
I have only had one teaching job to date, and this past spring I wondered if the grass might be greener. I’ve been honest with employers and interview committees of why I may be seeking other opportunities, and subsequently why I decided to stop having those conversations for the time being. I am overdue for some professional growth opportunities: those moments have been truncated and stagnant with past administrators (note: this is not a criticism, just a different leadership style and priorities). There has been a lot to learn from sitting on that side of the interview table, and I’ve also been sitting on the interviewer side, too. I can’t and won’t divulge details of what candidates offered, nor where I took missteps. (Okay: I’ll share one: I pointed out a typo on the questions for a high school ELA position, joking that I wondered if it was a test. The unsmiling faces and defensiveness of the teachers interviewing me assured me no, it was not intentional, and their senses of humor, in short supply anyway, quickly evaporated. Is it sour grapes to say it probably wasn’t a good fit if they didn’t get my irreverent sense of humor?)
Sorry for the detour. This is intended to be a discussion about ‘how to teach [fill in the blank]. A colleague and I noticed none of the ELA candidates spoke to reading instruction other than an aside, and all (and I am not being generalizing or global here) spoke about writing instruction and their work in that area. Some spoke about presentation and the listening/speaking standards; however, reading was the afterthought.
I am wondering if maybe the questions themselves lent the respondents to focus on writing, or if there is some message that’s being telegraphed about writing instruction being neglected. I wonder if others believe I’m not a competent teacher of reading because I talked about my work with PSWP/NWP, and my work with reading instruction is quiet and deep. (I would have thought my masters in children’s literature as engaging reading instruction, my National Boards certification, or my multiple novel units/curriculum would have demonstrated adequately my skills, but I am terrible at self-promotion.) This is the only reason I can think some jumped to this Island of Conclusions.
“To be sure,” said Canby; “you’re on the Island of Conclusions. Make yourself at home. You’re apt to be here for some time.”
This not only deeply offends me, but these dangerous assumptions create a climate of defensiveness and undermining. And I am struck by how much I’m not laughing about it now, either. And perhaps those multiple candidates did not speak about reading because teaching reading is about as difficult as it gets. Our responses and biases toward any text are as complex as a dream, and twice as difficult to describe or explain.
Why is reading difficult to teach? While many articles focus on teachers’ actions as the culprit for why reading is a “instructional ghetto,” many voices strive to underscore the inequity of school-readiness. I know whose parents have the luxury of time to read to their children, and those who don’t. I’ve encouraged many students throughout the year to read to younger siblings. I’ve done book talks, librarian discussions, close text and annotating lessons, and a text-rich classroom.
Personally, I’m returning to basics, as well as refreshing some tried and true approaches. I’ve linked this before, but it deserves another read, to think about engaging texts not in terms of difficulty, but in terms of thematic thinking. Close reading need not be the pulling the wings off the butterfly, but expressing the beauty and anguish in language; not being afraid to teach the fundamentals of reading. By the time I get students in eighth grade, there will be a handful in every class who do not know that the vowel sound changes if you had an ‘e’ at the end, or to chunk sound patterns instead of the laborious ‘sounding it out.’ Their prior teachers did nothing wrong: the gaps come from our never-ending push through of students and not knowing their strengths and weaknesses.
One thing I plan on doing intentionally and wholly this year is teaching reading with love. Not the kind of love that is mushy or some kind of Facebook sentimental glop. The kind of love that is dangerous, and full of conflict and struggle, as well as safety and agreement. I’m going to hold that baby multiple ways, but never, ever drop it.
For years, a continuing lament of teachers is students’ ‘learned helplessness.’ I witnessed this time and again: students who eschew pencils on the ground or break them then repeatedly asking for another, treating provided materials with disdain, echoing phrases of “I don’t know” or “I don’t understand,” and waging a war of attrition: who’s going to break first– me or them–when it comes to clarifying instructions or letting them become overly frustrated? (I usually just answer questions with questions, but somehow that doesn’t always inspire.) How could they NOT be getting this?! The learning targets and success criteria are written with great thought and precision every single day: why won’t they look at the board, and tuck into this delicious buffet of knowledge and enlightenment I’ve offered? The old phrase ‘students should work harder than the teacher’ often didn’t happen. Some folks think grit may be the answer, but to date no one knows how to ‘teach grit,’ or even if it should be taught.
If asked what the learning target/success criteria is for any given lesson, students are trained to parrot back what’s on the board, robotically and usually, joyless. If an evaluator is in the room, this signal from teachers to students is an expectation, and often students are pulled away and quietly asked, “What is the learning target today?” as a check-point for the teacher. The locus of control and agency shifts from student engagement to teacher accountability. And the learned helplessness increases.
I now know why.
And I want my colleagues to pay attention and collaborate with me, and see if we can do better.
Here’s Seligman’s experiment in a nutshell: a box, electric shocks, dogs, and a tone. When the dogs hear the tone, receive a shock, they would jump to the ‘safe’ side. In the second group, they took away the tone, the dogs learned to prepare on their own, and learned to go to the ‘safe’ side. Bring back group one, no tone, and the dogs gave up –whimpered and cried–they learned that without the signal/tone, the dogs had no chance of an ‘epiphany’ or mindset growth.
When Seligman put those three groups in the room with the electric floors and wall, groups one and two quickly learned to jump over the wall when the tone alerted them to incoming shocks. The third group did not. Instead, they curled up on the floor and whimpered. The previous experiment had taught them there was no point in trying to figure out a pattern. It was as if they thought bad things just happen sometimes, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Even though they could have escaped the pain, they didn’t even try.
Could it be in all this talk about growth mindset having students parrot back learning targets is the complete opposite of what we’re asking them to do? Are we asking them to give up, that there is no point in trying to figure out what the purpose of any given lesson is because it’s handed to them?
We need to change things up, but what exactly? I did my own experiment last year, by which I covered up the learning target/success criteria, taught the lesson, and as an exit ticket had students write down what they thought the targets were. Approximately 60% of students were either spot-on (develop an argument as to whether or not aliens exist) or darn close (claim/evidence/reasoning) and about 30% confused it with the performance task (work well in a group/do group work). This happened toward the end of the year, so they had been accustomed to the ‘tone’ of the learning target all year, so that they stopped hearing it. By requiring them to think and reflect, they owned the lesson much more deeply.
Some might argue that learning targets and success criteria show students what happens in ‘the real world.’ Yes and no: depends on which ‘real world.’ Minimum-wage jobs have very strict guidelines and protocols, and do not encourage free-thinking or innovation. If you ask me today the weight and required temperature of a Starbucks’ latte I could probably recall that information. My husband and I were talking about this, and his 25 years of experience in design and UX tell a very different story: if you’re hired by a company in a salaried job, you’d better come prepared to think on your own, and offer your own insights and experience. No one gives you a ‘learning target’ script. This may be one cultural factor which Chinese and Indian educational systems speak of — they are highly trained in routine and computational thinking, but not innovation. Their words, not mine.
And just why is thinking critically so darn important, anyway? The world doesn’t come with warnings. I want my students to be hungry for learning when they come in my classroom, not passive and spoon-fed. I don’t want them to ask ‘why we have a bell?’ when I say I am the one to dismiss them. I want the end of the class to come as a surprise because they were so deep in their work they lost track of time. I have seen this less and less during the past two to three years of the “Learning Target/Success Criteria” regime. We need to spring from our haunches, prepare and adapt. It’s one thing to have drills and escape routes: that provides options. It’s altogether a different beast when we suffer from the notion that nothing we do will affect change. (Including taking down a flag as step one when there are so many other steps to take, too.)
Innovation’s enemy is learned helplessness. All of us need to be ready to jump and move. This has potential for deep implication in the inclusion model classroom, whereas in order to get all students moving forward, some have had years of entrenched learned helplessness and distract the teacher’s energy so that the process and purpose gets stuck in the mental mud.
The learning targets and success criteria should not become the ‘tone” for students to put aside all of their thinking, to passively accept they know the end game, so why play at all? This teacher activity (and observed by evaluators) has taken up way too much discussion and educational space for their return on learning time investment.
I would love your ideas and thoughts: I believe in purpose, I believe in objectives/goals/targets, and assessment and responsiveness. What ways do you keep students from wallowing in learned helplessness?
An expert inthis conversation is John Spencer.
