When school is home...or better (Beau's Story).

Today, my family welcomed a new member. The girls and I climbed into our van this afternoon and drove 2 hours to Evansville, Indiana to meet a yellow lab named "Beau" who needed a home. We've been looking for another "big" dog for a while because something about that big bark makes me feel safe.

When we arrived at the home where Beau was staying, the girls stayed in the car while I went in, just to be safe. Upon sight, Beau was a beautiful, seemingly healthy dog with a big bark and a very nervous demeanor. Beau's backstory includes being abandoned in the farm country of Southern Indiana during a very cold streak of days. When found, he wouldn't allow his rescuers to approach him for a week. He continued to roam, ice hanging from his body, for days. Finally, his rescuers were able to earn enough of his trust to get him into a car and back to their house, where he has been for the past two weeks. When I met him, he was living with quite a few (at least 3) large, energetic dogs.

I couldn't approach Beau at first, as he barked at me, not quite aggressively but certainly with apprehension. Eventually, I was able to give him a treat, and he allowed me to pet his back--but not with an open hand. I had to close my hand and avoid Beau's head when I tried to pet him. He clearly had been hit with an open hand upon his head before and was very cautious of any movement that resembled this.

Once we got into the car, Beau was significantly less nervous. He decided to ride shotgun, and watched the scenery pass for a while...

..

...before he settled in for a deep sleep.

So what does this story have to do with teaching?

Everything.

Because everyone needs love and safety...human and dog alike. 

And when we find it, we know instantly. Our souls are at rest immediately. We find our "safe places".

Like Beau, some of our students are wandering in fields of cold and loneliness...some of them are literally homeless, and others find school to be their safe place, their "home".  I was certainly one of those students--school was always the place I wanted to be. School activities kept me there as much as possible. As young as 6th grade, I was able to find early morning basketball practices, after school softball games, and weekend speech tournaments to keep me at school. Just like me, many of our students feel most purposeful, most successful, most knowledgeable while at school.

As teachers, we often KNOW that some students love school, but we are often unaware of the number of students who wouldn't mind staying there for as long as possible each day. For those of us who teach older students, this is even less obvious, because students can mask it in extracurricular activities, just like I did.

In the end, however, school is home for many of our students. It is where they are fed, physically, mentally, and spiritually. For many of our students, school offers safety, security, and a fresh start. It is important to never stop giving students a chance to be made new. 

I have lost 4 students so far this year to alternate settings, whether alternate schools or juvenile detention. Each of these students saw school as their safe place, and it was their returns home each day, weekend or school break that caught them up into the danger of their environments. Some might say that it is better that they are gone, for the "good" of the other students, but I don't necessarily believe so. If these students were able to stay in their "safe place" all the time, I wonder if they could finally put their environmental difficulties behind them?  

In the end, I hope you take from this post a desire to reach out to those students who never talk to you, to reach out anew to the "difficult" kids who give you lots of attitudes, to smile and greet the students who say they "hate" your class. 

Our kids are master roleplayers, but underneath, they are looking for a place to rest, to be surrounded with warmth, and to finally be home.

Just like Beau...

The Clacking Sound of Success

I find that I have a penchant for using the physical objects of my childhood as metaphors for my thoughts on education, society, and social change. When it comes down to it, both are about finding joy in small things.

Do you remember when children of the 70s and 80s would add beads to the spokes of their bicycle tires? These beads would employ gravity and centrifugal force and fall alternately toward the axle then toward the wheel rim as the tire rotated, making a series of loud, clacking sounds. A similar effect could be created by sticking a playing card or baseball card in the tire.  

http://img.banggood.com/thumb/view/upload/2014/04-1/SKU083510%20(1).jpg

Why would these simple yet noisy items have been used by kids? The noise announced to others, “Here I am!”, “Here I come!”, and especially when a group of kids came down the street, “Hey, look at us!” These were never dangerous items, nor did they imply any kind of social structure (unlike basketball shoes, electronics, etc.). Any kid, from any family, on any bike, could have this simple joy.

How does this relate to education, you might ask?

Competition in the realm of education is unavoidable.

Competition is acknowledged and indeed encouraged at every, single level. Building-level decisions, district mandates, state monitoring, and international rankings try to get us to look at the competitive picture.  Consider each of the following data fields, which encourage competition:

• High school graduation rates, retention rates, ACT/SAT average scores, higher-ed acceptance percentages, drop-out rates, yearly scholarship offer totals, athletics records
• Middle school advanced program populations, state test scores, success numbers by demographics, discipline rates
• Elementary faculty-to-student ratios, reading scores, gifted/talented programs, PTO fundraising totals

Every piece of data can be (and is) used to divide our educational communities. State legislation which allows student/family choice has given parents the opportunity to pit schools against one another, for competition of state dollars. In Indiana, the per-student funding to schools follows the student to whatever public (and, in the case of vouchers, private) school they like.

Although created with good intention, the ability to pick-up and move students at-will/at-whim is damaging our schools, public and private alike. Uncomfortable situations are seldom worked through when a family can just transfer to another local school. Student mobility has caused socio-economic segregation to run rampant in our public schools, giving struggling districts and schools very few options for great improvement, and alternately creating elite schools and struggling schools within the same district.  (More on this next time…)

Competition is innate in humans and nature, and can have some good effects (positive self-esteem, student empowerment, and community pride). Some might argue that without competition, our schools would be less.

What would happen if the competition for tax dollars was removed from education?  How would our school systems, at every level, change, if data was used for informational and guiding purposes, rather than punitive ones? How would the guiding practices of administrators and the teaching practices of educators change if they were afforded enough trust (through long-term contracts or tenure) to try new things, fail, and have enough time to adjust and grow into success?  What would children DO, BE, or LEARN, if they took a test once a year, or (GASP) once every 2-3 years to mark progress?

These are bold ideas, indeed. Yet if you listen closely, you can almost hear the “clacking” of bike wheels, and the long-distance shouts of children yelling, “Hey! Look at US!”.

Until the next bell…

~K

Stop telling me that it's ok to fail

In my world, failure is not an option.

Within the educational realm, the currently hyped idea is "to allow yourself to fail." Proponents of this mindset tout the idea that failure as a professional is fantastic. By failing, teachers will be more successful. We will be better teachers, because we can show students shining examples of people who once failed, or who failed over and over again, but succeeded. Edison and his lightbulb, Graham Bell's telephone, and the oft repeated lore that Einstein was a failure at school before he was a recognized genius come to mind. By allowing ourselves to fail, according to this philosophy, we are bettering ourselves as educators.

I am here to take a stand. In my world, failure is not the option. 

Stop telling me to fail because it's good for me and for my students. Why? Because many of my students ALREADY FAIL. They don't need to be taught this or to see teachers fail to know that they can succeed out of it. My students do not know who invented the light bulb, and know very little about Einstein. Why? Those geniuses are dead, white men, far removed from today's reality, and thus from the mind of my students.

If you want to be successful, FOCUS ON SUCCEEDING. 

One of my favorite Ted talks is entitled, "Every child needs a champion" and was given by Rita Pierson. Pierson gave an example of a student who got 3/20 questions on a test correct. She wrote "+3" and a smily face on the paper. When the student asked why she wrote these things on a failing test, Pierson replied, "+3 says you aren't all bad. You are on the road." That is celebrating student success.

Look around your room. Celebrate the successes that are occurring, even with just a word. Leave the sarcasm at home, be upfront, honest and sincere. Students learn from the teachers they care about, and who care about them, regardless of the content. Look for the students who:

--did nearly nothing yesterday, and has a couple of items answered today.
--has been down/depressed all week, but is smiling today.
-- never turns in his/her homework but did so today.
--has been in ISS for 2 days for poor behavior, but who brought all of the work you assigned yesterday to class today.

Be tenaciously successful in your school.

Teaching is a profession of fluid success and fluid disappointment. Every, single day we lose and win. Don't be satisfied with losing. Is there a great lesson in failure? Of course. But until students get consistent, heaping helpings of supported success, they won't begin to win. Do not allow failure to be the norm. I am here to say, take back the championing of classrooms and schools. Stand up for yourself, your students, and your school.

Focus on winning.

Digital Bathwater: A Plan for Bridging Tradition and Technology

"Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater". 

It was Christmas, 1990, and my brothers, sister and I received our first digital gaming console from Santa Claus—an original Nintendo gaming system. Although we were several years behind the original release of NES, we were ridiculously excited to have one of our own, and many hours were spent mastering the flying tail feature in Super Mario Bros. 3 and learning the ins and outs of digital football (back when the Buffalo Bills were led by Jim Kelly).

We were a family that spent far more hours outside than indoors, yet this addition to our family sparked an interest in digital systems that was far reaching into the future, and at some level, is likely responsible for my continued interest in computing/digital work, now through the focused lens of digital education.

Every new teaching technique results in both praise and criticism, and technology integration is no different. As in every facet of education, there is a whole set of technology acronyms to be learned and mastered, or at least defined, in order for one to seem knowledgeable at the next leadership meeting! And yet the speed of novelty in educational technology is so rapid, that teachers and administrators might be willing to throw GAFE, SAMR, and even IT out the window, ASAP!

Critics of educational gaming and digital learning often fall back on their own ability to learn without “those things,” claiming that the use of technology hinders the hard work of learning and thinking that were required of students 20-40 years ago.

As teacher-leaders, it is our responsibility to validate the tried-and-true teaching methods of the past. After all, the “traditional” ways many of us were taught were once novel as well. The seasoned teachers among us who struggle with technology are no less teachers than the tech-savvy, who are coming to their own in this digital civilization. As one former principal I worked for stated to me, “I don’t think we need to throw the ‘baby out with the bathwater’.” There is room for progression and tradition in teaching.

There is room for progression and tradition in teaching.

In a recent district committee meeting which I attended, the needs for validation of traditional teaching as well as bridge-building into technology were both discussed. The constant creation of new technologies must go hand-in-hand with tradition, not simply replace it, for in doing that, the wealth of educational pedagogy is cheapened.

In the end, schools and districts need to talk with teacher-leaders, and develop progression plans for professional development in technology. At each level (elementary, middle, high, and even post-secondary), leaders should develop a table of applications or programs that they would like teachers to explore or learn for a finite amount of time. Keeping this limited to something like 3-5 would be manageable. At the semester or year break, reflect upon these, keeping what works, letting go of the rest, and giving a new set to teachers at that time. Using the teachers as the source for these suggestions will allow every content and need area to be addressed as well.

Time and manageability are the keys to continuing to bridge tradition and technology.

This kind of scaffolding technology development would allow for sharing in buildings or districts, keeping teachers on similar pages, while offering a concise and manageable amount of technology immersion to already busy teachers. By giving several months for teachers to learn each set, there is no rush and teachers are able to try one or two at a time, finding what works for their classrooms. Consequently, time and manageability are the keys to continuing to bridge tradition and technology.

There's Education....and Then There's Learning

     This week, our school is finishing state-mandated testing in grades 3-8. For students, this amounts to approximately two hours of computer-based assessment for three or four days (depending upon the grade level). Despite the fact that proctoring this testing elicits a feeling akin to mowing my half-acre yard with a reel mower, I do get moderate satisfaction out of watching middle school students choose the correct spelling of diagnose and choose the author's purpose for a piece of writing.

     During my recess from testing, I returned to my classroom to open the latest package sent by the fine people at the ASCD office. The book inside was Suzy Pepper Rollins' Learning in the Fast Lane: 8 Ways to Put ALL  Students on the Road to Academic Success.  The everydayness of teaching always puts me up for a fresh perspective on education, and I got it right in chapter one.

     Pepper Rollins quotes a 2004 study which stated, "What students already know when they enter the classroom—before we [educators] have even met them—is the strongest predictor of how well they will learn the new curriculum." (Marzano, 2004). 

     As an ELA teacher, I struggle every year with the idea of assigning summer homework. There is a delicate balance to be found between keeping up with academic rigor and allowing students time to step away from the very grind that teachers experience. Many of my peers have concrete beliefs in assigning summer novels or other work, and research backs the idea up. Students are said to lose anywhere from 20-40% of their previous year's education over the course of the summer. (I would argue that in the balanced schedule system found in our area of the country, in which summer is now less than 8 weeks long, this percentage might be slightly lower).  Regardless, loss is loss, and only requires review again in the fall.

    In light of this loss and the research mentioned previously about life experience, I would like to offer this assignment to my students, for the summer:

Go out and add to your life.

Become better at something for the next 10 weeks.

Try to make it something that doesn't require internet access for more than 10 minutes at a time.

     I read an article today about a local brother and sister who have rejuvenated their grandmother's for-profit fishing lakes. I would rather my students use the summer to fish, kayak, play neighborhood kickball, learn to knit, take-up playing the guitar, woodwork, build a treehouse, or participate in a hundred other "old school" activities than simply reading a novel because I told them it was required. Learn a skill that was important when your parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents were young. Become good at it, good enough that you would be proud to demonstrate it for a grade next fall. Choose something that is interesting, nay cool, because of its novelty in antiquity and tradition. 

    Come back to school in the fall (or in our case, July), with something to write about (other than the thirty-nine different skills needed to play volleyball, how to bake a cake from a boxed mix, or how to succeed at "Clash of Clans"--these subjects alone made-up 80% of this year's procedural essays in my classes).  Be ready to share your findings, your failures, your successes. 

     Students will not appreciate Tom and Huck sneaking away to a swimming hole if they themselves don't know what a swimming hole is (hint: it doesn't generally involve chlorine, and there are probably frogs everywhere). How can I expect students to love and appreciate Karana's loneliness and strife for survival on a desolate island if the only islands they know lie between city streets? Can one cry for joy when Albert and Joey are reunited, if one has never actually known a horse, or the love of another wounded animal? 

So students, your summer work has been assigned thusly. I will await your stories with wonder and excitement.


Until the next bell,

~K.

Inspiration from mediocrity-- finding joy in the invisible students

Have you ever had a class that came with a, "warning label"? My current 8th grade class came with just such a label. They were presented to me as a lazy, uninspired, middling-talented group of students, who would never match up to the class before them, and who were already being passed-up by their 7th grade peers. What is one to do with such an overture?

I did what every good teacher I have ever known does for such a group...

From the beginning of this year, I told them exactly how talented and special they are. I loved them all, not despite their flaws, but because of them. I have looked for, and found, the artists, writers, athletes, and super-heroes in each of them. Why? Because teachers are called to find those who are invisible.

My class last year was full to the brim with talent-- athletes, would-be scholars, school council politicians, you name it. Every possible type of potentially-successful personality was part of that class. It's easy to teach a class like that, where 90% of the students are already successful.

Yet within that class came some of the most memorable stories of my 9-year teaching career. There was a young man in that grade who didn't seem to particularly like school. He was a slight, cautious boy, who had generally avoided coming to class as much as possible the previous year. I found him intriguing, and began asking his opinions in class. Almost immediately, he began showing up more often. Suddenly, the other students in his grade realized the intellectual maturity belonging to this young man, when they'd never seen it before. He was involved in class, spending hours on literature and writing projects that he never had in previous years. At the end of the year, he received the, "Most Improved Student" award at eighth grade graduation. He had been invisible, and was no more.

One of the girls in this same grade was a sweet young lady with an incredible talent for drawing (a skill I envy). She was beautiful and talented, yet she looked upon this as a curse. I will never forget reading one of her compositions, in which she privately screamed at her classmates that the utopian world they believed they had created at our school was a sham-- that her classmates were mean, vicious, unforgiving people, and how she couldn't wait to get away from their school and their judgements.

I was given the honor of calling the names at 8th grade graduation, and watched as each student came forward to receive their certificate and hug their 8th grade teachers. There was no lack of enthusiasm, excitement, joy, and a few tears. I didn't feel particularly drawn to emotion until the afore-mentioned young lady stepped forward, sobbing uncontrollably. Her lament at leaving this place, her "friends", her youth, suddenly came pouring out as though a well-built dam in her soul was giving way. Her emotions, so raw, came flooding into my voice, and my own tears appeared as I called her name-- another invisible brought into the light.

May we always see those students who are overshadowed by the radiance of their peers.

Until the next bell,

~K

Teaching Logic

There seems to be a lot of "Teacher Lounge" Discussions these days that reference the inability of students to think or reason.  Most tests, as a matter of fact, seem to focus little on problem-solving or logic, and place the most emphasis on what I refer to as "vomitous learning".  This kind of learning is what makes parents expect every student to be an "A" student--it is the kind of fact-remembering (not problem-solving) education that continues to encourage our students to just memorize everything, then effectively "vomit" it onto a test.  Recently, I found myself grading a bunch of blackline master Science tests (which I use seldom, because I feel that the multiple-choice questions are writtent to "trick" students), and saw very interesting trends in my classes.  In the first two sections of the test, students were getting very high scores (85-95 percent correct), while those same students were scoring only 60-80 percent in the final two sections.  How could this be?  The first two sections were multiple-choice or vocabulary/definition with matching opportunities.  The last two pages were short-answer/essay questions, which required deductive reasoning and attention to details. 

I cannot say I was very surprised by these results, but it did make me want to do two things.  First of all, I make a point to only give credit in essays for the points that are adequately addressed.  If students do not answer all parts of the question, they will receive only the credit they deserve (rather than no credit at all, which would really throw the parents for a loop!). I am also explaining which parts of the questions they missed, to try and build their essay-writing abilities.  I don't know who taught me to address all of the parts of an essay question, but I am grateful to those teachers who did.

I have also ordered a logic book to begin working with my 5th grade students (maybe a logic club in the morning, 2 days per week?).  I ordered "Logic Links", and will blog about how that logic training goes.

Until the next bell....

~K