Snow Day!

The snow day is one of the true gifts of being a teacher.

Mister S and I do a lot of writing in this blog where we push back at certain parts of our teacher world. We do that push back because of how much teaching and our students matter to us. We want the greater system to do well by our students, so we speak up when we see things that go in a different direction.

But this post today is about gratitude.

Of course there are plenty of other people who are not teachers or students who are at home today watching the snow fly, but there are also lots of people who need to still get themselves to work regardless of the 14 inches (and counting) of snow on the ground this morning. And I thank those people for braving the snow and keeping our community running despite the snow.

I love my job–I truly do. But these surprise days off are nothing short of magical.

And for it to come when I’m dealing with the first cold I’ve had this whole school year? The universe is telling me to rest and get better today.

And for it to fall on a Friday to give us a three-day weekend? Bliss.

Even though our school district didn’t call the snow day last evening when every other neighboring district did, and even though we finally did get the call at an uncivilized 4:23 a.m., I am nothing but grateful for the gift of a quiet day where I have the luxury of time to do things like write about snow days.

I do have a few work-related things I want to take care of today, but there’s a whole lot of relaxing I plan to do too. My daughter is singing as she becomes lost in her imagination this morning–some sort of drama going on among her plastic animals. My husband just headed out to the grocery store on cross-country skis with a huge smile on his face. The flakes are big and fluffy. We are safe and warm.

One thing that’s fun about snow days is the anticipation. The school was all atwitter yesterday. Of course I was encouraging that by starting each class with the weather report: I showed the class the national weather service forecast page and we looked at the winter storm warning together and the projected snow totals. When an update to the forecast raised those projected snow totals during lunch, I went down the hall to tell my colleagues.

And I’m remembering when one of my classes of seniors in Illinois asked for five minutes to run outside to do a snow dance before we started class. So off they went and I smiled as I watched them from my classroom window, all dancing and wiggling in a circle around one student in the center who shimmied with his hands in the air. They came back in with rosy cheeks and smiles on their faces having spent a bit of the distracting energy that they brought into the classroom with them that day. We had a good class that day (and then next day since their snow dance didn’t actually work).

Which is how it usually turns out. I’m perennially hopeful when the forecast shows any possibility of a snow day–but most of the time it doesn’t pan out.

But today it did, and I am full of gratitude.

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Small Moment, Big Win

I know we get caught up, especially on this blog, with larger issues in education- policy, politics, philosophy. And all that stuff is important, and we like thinking about it (when our heads are not exploding).

But we are teachers, first and foremost, so I wanted to share a little moment I had earlier this week. As I have posted previously, I am teaching a Public Speaking class this semester for the first time in quite a while. It is a super group, with some wonderful students. But public speaking is scary (which is why we make kids take classes on it- because it isn’t magic, you can LEARN how to be better). It is especially so if, say, English isn’t your first language, and you are the only one in the class in that position.

My ELL student arrived this semester (I hate to label him like that, but I also hate making up names) really worried about this course, which he needs to graduate. Two separate adults came to see me before the semester started to express concerns on his behalf. And he had a bit of a rocky start- missed some classes, tried to skip some minor assignments, things like that.

As we rolled up to the first presentation we had prepared for, I was worried about how it would go for him. He had trouble with creating an outline, seemed to be avoiding the work (I can’t blame him, I avoid stuff when I am scared too). When I was making the schedule for these presentation he claimed that he was busy every day I tried to schedule him (I said “really, when DO you plan on coming to class that week?”) He missed a scheduled meeting with me to go over his outline the week before. It was shaping up to not go so well, and I really wanted him to feel some success.

So he did come to see me the day of the presentation. We had talked in class, and he had worked out a rough outline. He even had some images to go with his presentation. He put them in a word document, but we can work on the technical stuff later. He and I talked through what he was going to say, and how we thought it would go. He was worried that no one would be interested, especially the girls (his presentation was on cars, which are his passion). Several times he offered to flip a coin to see whether he did his presentation in class or just for me. He also offered to have his mom cook me homemade mole (that’s ‘moh-ley,’ for those of you not from the SW) for a week (okay, that was tempting). I worked pretty hard to be reassuring without letting him off the hook. But I was really enjoying just hanging out with him, and when he got into explaining cars to me he just lit up, and was giving me a very technical lecture on the difference between a ‘tuner’ and a ‘muscle car.’

In class before his presentation, I was getting the computer and projector ready and he came up and whispered to me “I’m really nervous!” Then when his turn came, he rocked it!

Everyone in class was ohhing and ahing at his slides of cars, he had some great facts to keep people interested (the engine in one slide costs $15,000 and generates 1500 horsepower). The audience enthusiasm was not at all split along gender lines (which surprised even me). While he was presenting, I could see him relax, by the end he had a big smile on his face and was obviously enjoying himself. He got the most enthusiastic applause of the day.

It was a really great moment, for him.  The truth is, I did very little. Has he learned a whole lot about communication skills at this point? Not really, but we’ll get to that. What he learned was that it is safe to try. Things won’t always work out badly. He does have interesting things to say. People do want to know.

And what did I do, little though it was? I hope I made it a little safe for him to try some things. I hope I started a relationship with him that will allow us to work on some skills. And afterwards, I did tell him he rocked it, but I also pointed out to him that the whole class thought he rocked it. Which is probably more important.

Small moment, big win.

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Frightening doesn’t cover it!

This is from Ed Week, by Diane Ravitch:

modal years of teaching experience in 1987-88 was 15 (meaning that there were more teachers with 15 years of experience than any other group); in the latest published survey, 2007-08, the modal years of experience was one. That means that in 2008 there were more teachers in their first year of teaching than any other group. This is frightening.

Are we really okay with the Ed workforce getting less experienced that quickly? I guess is what you want is compliance from both teachers and students, then the answer is yes. But if we want education for our kids, couldn’t we hope for more?

Ravitch asks (via the headline) if the President even kows what RTT is. That would explain the disconnect, but it doesn’t make it any less sad.

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Sarah Kay is a ‘thing made of awesome’

This is the reason TED is good. And the reason poetry is good. And the reason teaching is good. And the reason….oh never mind. Watch the damn video. I dare you not to be moved.

Told ya.

More about Sarah Kay here, and more about Project Voice here.

Posted in cultivating our voice, cultivating real learning, engagement, life and death, literacy, stories, things made of awesome | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Google Duh

Just a quick post here to share a “duh” moment I had yesterday.

I spent about 45 minutes yesterday morning going through a stack of writer’s notebook self evaluations, entering into a Google spreadsheet the scores my students gave themselves for each component they should be developing in their writer’s notebooks, and then transferring the resulting scores to the grade book. I have my students do these self evaluations several times each semester.

I was about three quarters of the way through this task when I realized that, DUH, my students could have filled out a Google Form instead of writing the self-evaluation on paper and then their responses would be put into a spreadsheet for me where I could then simply add another column to tabulate their scores and voila! DONE.

Funny how in small moments like this we discover ways to leverage technology to make our teaching work better.

Funny that I didn’t see this use of technology until now, even though I’ve been using Google Apps heavily in my classroom for all kinds of things for two school years.

Funny how we sometimes can’t see beyond the ways we have always done things even when a better way is staring us right in the face.

Posted in 21st century teaching and learning, DUH, grading, making change, technology, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Mr. President, please make sense.

So , the state of the union was on Tuesday. And the President said some nice stuff about teachers. Which he did last time there was an election. But my cynicism cup runneth over.

As everyone on facebook and twitter was saying ‘yay, the president just said stop teaching to the test!’ I couldn’t help but feel a bit sick inside. The disconnect between what he is saying and what his administration has actually been doing is just too overwhelming.

This administration arrived with great hope and fanfare for education. The first bump was when Linda Darling-Hammond of Stanford University, who advised the President on ed policy during the campaign, was passed over for Ed Secretary in favor of a business leader who had taken over the Chicago schools and had claimed to have performed near miracles there. Though it was hard to tell in the moment, this was the first sign that the current administrations policies on education would be not just a continuation of the Bush presidency, but an amplification of them.

Much as Ron Paige was heralded by Bush as having performed miracles in Houston, Arne Duncan came with assurances that he could do for the US what he had done for Chicago.  Which he pretty much is doing, it just isn’t that good. So at least that part is honest. We know now of course that not only Houston, but most of the ‘Texas miracle‘ in education was nonsense. And the evidence that what happened in Chicago isn’t all that great is also coming in. This dynamic has been repeated over and over again (see: Michelle Rhee). As a rule, if someone claims to have performed something miraculous in education, wait for the data.

I read The Answer Sheet today and I think Anthony Cody had it pretty much right:

Let us be crystal clear. The Obama administration has made the use of test scores to evaluate principals and teachers a pre-condition for federal aid. Both Race to the Top and the No Child Left Behind waivers(being offered to states by the Education Department) require that states develop evaluation processes that incorporate this data. Furthermore, the administration proposes to continue to identify and target for closure or “turnaround” the bottom 5% of schools, once again based on these same test scores we are told should not be taught to.

You cannot have it both ways. You cannot tell teachers to be creative, you cannot pretend you are “flexible,” when you mandate the use of test scores for teacher and principal evaluations, and continue to use them as the basis by which schools are condemned as failures.

We can’t have it both ways is right. Sadly, while Mr. Obama is a master rhetorician when he turns it on, his rhetoric is profoundly out of synch with what his administration has done, is doing, and promises to continue to do. The problems with this path are many, and thinkers much better than I have addressed them, and there is plenty of evidence that the ‘test and punish’ policies of this administration are, and will, have profound negative consequences for America and its children. At the minimum, there are basic human issues  that concern me deeply (as Doc Z pointed out the other day). Not to mention, I just don’t believe, based on my own experience as a teacher and parent, that these policies will educate our children well or prepare them for a dynamic and uncertain future.

I actually don’t doubt good intent on the part of many of the actors in this never-ending Greek tragedy. I have no reason to think that President Obama or Ed. Sec. Duncan are so shamelessly cynical as to not care about education except as a means for electioneering.

But I am tired. We keep chasing the silver bullet and there isn’t one. The problems of education, as real as they are, will never lend themselves to easy solutions. Or even one solution. We will have to address serious social issues, cultural issues, and structural issues to effect change in education. And we will have to do so without negatively impacting the many, many really good schools that are out there (I know you don’t hear that much, but there are a LOT of really good public schools, I happen to teach in one). And we will have to stop focusing the blame for the problems on the teachers and other front line workers in education. And it might be nice if our leaders listened to policy advice from actual educators. Maybe just once.

So what I really want is for the President to just make sense. Don’t be so completely disconnected from your own policy that those of us in education can only stand by and watch, while our collective heads explode from the cognitive disjunct of trying to reconcile what you say with what you do. That’s it, just make sense.

Posted in education, muddling through, reform, the system | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Measuring Away Our Dignity

Last week, Mister S tweeted a link to an interview with Diane Ravitch recently published in Education Leadership. That interview has been turning over in my mind ever since. Mister S and I had the opportunity to see Ravitch speak a while back. She’s such a voice of reason right now–I only wish that the power brokers would listen to her.

And then one of my students posted this on his Google Site for my class (a place where I’m asking my students to collect links and thoughts relevant to their thinking toward our big essential question this semester): “Merits and Limits of Applying the Scientific Method to Human Society.”

Having been trained as an educational researcher, married to a PhD biologist, this is actually something I’ve thought quite a bit about. Husband and I actually had an argument in the car in the parking lot of the grocery store once about the role of the hypothesis in social science research (he argued that it was irresponsible to do any sort of research starting without the hypothesis and I argued that when you’re studying human beings in complex settings like classrooms you often go about things differently). So I’ve been thinking about this for a while.

But I’ve never seen someone come at the issue quite the way that the author of the above mentioned article does.

In a nutshell, the argument here is that while the scientific approach can help us to understand issues in society and even fix them, there is a cost: human dignity. Human beings are not simple matter than can be manipulated in an experiment.

This got me thinking about the test-score driven world of education that we live in. It’s all about the numbers, the evaluation tool, applying the right method across multiple classrooms regardless of the unique qualities in each. All at a loss of human dignity for the students and teachers who people classrooms.

The article engages in some heavy philosophical questions that I cannot do justice to here in this blog post, but I wanted to share a few tidbits from the article that stood out to me. As you read them, please think about how these ideas relate to how our society is currently dealing with education:

History has proven, that it is possible to apply scientific rationality also to social structures, in other words, to organize human beings in hierarchical structures, to consider conflicts as errors of communication and to try to consider human beings as exchangeable. The advantages in particular for building large industrial complexes has been considerable. However, there is a price. The question we have to ask at this particular point in history, is whether we are willing to pay this price also in the future. In other words, do the advantages of applying the scientific rationality to social structures warrant the price we have to pay for it.

And I ask, do the advantages of applying scientific rationality to the structures of education warrant the price we are already paying for it? What exactly is that price? (I think The Real Mr. Fitz articulated the price extremely well in his open letter to Obama about the ironies present in current educational policy.)

The article makes an important distinction, that science reveals the “laws of nature,” only applicable to “space and time.” And using the philosophy of Descartes, the article argues that the mind falls outside of the realm of matter. Also in that realm, the realm of the mind, Descartes’ philosophy places communication, meaning, understanding, and decisions–things based on value. The philosophy goes on to explain that in the realm of science one finds action, description, and predictions based on prior knowledge.

Now think about the classroom. Description, predictions, and knowledge certainly have their important place in the classroom. And it is fairly straightforward to measure these things. The most relevant education though I would argue goes beyond this, to communication, meaning, understanding, and decisions–all concepts far more difficult to measure (which is why this article is so troubling to me. I’d much rather see resources for building a computer program that can grade writing going toward something that will actually improve daily life and learning for students in classrooms, like supporting teachers with the resources and time they need to teach writing really well–something that requires teachers immerse themselves in the writing of their students).

The article goes on to make clear what is meant by “understanding”:

Let me explain a little bit the distinction between “description” and “understanding”. Matter in space and time is described by the laws of nature given by the scientific method. These laws allow for predictions, they may even “explain” parts of our material world, but we should not call it “understanding” in the true sense. I shall reserve the term “understanding” for human communication. I can understand the decision or the action of a person to whom I am close, I cannot understand the law of gravitation in the sense that I have emotional response to the need of a falling rock.

So “understanding” requires human communication and emotion, not description or predictions. Per this definition, no large-scale evaluation instrument (like a high-stakes test) can possibly measure understanding, thus boiling down what we do in classrooms to things such tests CAN measure efficiently. And when the stakes are high for test scores to improve, what happens in classrooms becomes less and less meaningful as it drifts away from human communication and emotion.

The article cites a “great psychotherpist and educator, Carl Rogers”:

“If we choose to utilize our scientific knowledge for free men, then it will demand that we live openly and frankly with the great paradox of the behavioral sciences. We will recognize that behavior, when examined scientifically, is surely best understood as determined by prior causation. This is the great fact of science. But responsible personal choice, which is the most essential element in being a person, which is the core experience in psychotherapy, which exists prior to any scientific endeavor, is an equally prominent fact in our lives. We will have to live with the realization that to deny the reality of the experience of responsible personal choice is as stultifying, as closed-minded, as to deny the possibility of a behavioral science. That these two important elements of our experience appear to be in contradiction has perhaps the same significance as the contradiction between the wave theory and the corpuscular theory of light, both of which can be shown to be true, even though incompatible. We cannot profitably deny our subjective life, any more than we can deny the objective description of that life”.

I do not deny what behavioral science has taught us about education and learning. But this argues that a strict stance on behavioral science denies the existence of “personal choice.” This is something that Diane Ravitch has argued about evaluating teachers on student test scores. The teacher could do absolutely everything right in the classroom according to theories of learning and teaching, but the that same teacher cannot guarantee that a student will choose to do as well as possible on the test that evaluates the teacher’s “effectiveness.” Our human subjectivity exists alongside all attempts to measure learning objectively, and it’s not dignified to hold teachers accountable for students’ subjectivity, something that teachers have no control over. And more important, it is not dignified to pretend that students aren’t subjective beings who make their own decisions and choices for a whole variety of reasons. This actually insults our students and does not honor them as human beings.

The article states that “that the application of scientific rationality to human society means its reduction to matter in space and time” and explains that scientific rationality has been helpful in many cases. Certainly there are ways that scientific rationality has been helpful in education. The longitudinal data we have from the NAEP for example, really does tell us some things about education in our country (interesting that this test is NOT given every year for every grade, that it is NOT mandated, and that there are NO high stakes attached to the results). But the thing about students is that they are part of the human realm, and not mere test score producers. The article continues:

Let us now ask the specific question what we lose, if we apply this reduction. In so doing, I would like to follow Immanuel Kant (7), who pointed out very clearly, that there is something very special in the human realm (“Reich der Zwecke”). It is the uniqueness of the individual human being, the “ego” (or I), which cannot be replaced, which is not reproducible. Again, it should be admitted, that there is also a reproducible part in any human individual; otherwise large hierarchical structures in the industry, say, would not work. As far as the “working force” of human individuals is concerned, there is exchangeability. However, insofar a human being can be the “object of love”, it is unique and not replaceable.

Immanuel Kant has pointed out, that in the human realm everything has either a price or dignity. What is exchangeable has a price, what is unique, constitutes dignity. Although this may be a philosophical differentiation, it has immediate and far-reaching consequences in everyday life.

And far-reaching consequences for education. By judging the success of our schools and teachers based on test scores, no matter how elegant the statistics applied to test scores, this judgement makes us see students and teachers and schools as exchangeable. We lump groups of people together under singular statistics and those statistics define everyone beneath them. A “failing school” is seen as nothing but that, despite the intense challenges it might face due to poverty in its attendance area, for example. A teacher could lose his job if his student test scores did not show adequate growth, even if it’s clear that on every other possible measure that he’s an excellent teacher (including a strong, positive, engaging classroom community where students love learning and are excelling in areas not measured by the state test).

But individual classrooms, individual teachers, and individual students are unique. When we do not treat them as such, we strip them of their dignity.

The article concludes with an application of the entire argument to the realm of medicine, but what is said here applies equally well to education:

We can now conclude our considerations by observing, that any health system has to take into account the great achievements of scientific rationality, otherwise it violates the right of human society for the best possible treatment of illnesses. On the other hand, if this health system restricts itself to the frame of scientific thinking (to scientific rationality), it violates human dignity! Therefore we reach the conclusion, that a health system, which sets out to be of benefit for human beings in their totality has to find a synthesis (or at least a balance) of these two seemingly contradictory poles.

Where’s our balance, our synthesis? I certainly do not see that now. I see a prominence of “scientific rationality” through testing of students at nearly every grade level every year, through pressure to evaluate teachers on student test scores, and through major changes in classroom instruction in schools where the stakes are so high that the school must focus on test scores at the cost of everything else.

I’ll wrap this up now by turning to something that I used to introduce my doctoral dissertation–a study that I wanted to contextualize as an important window into the unique landscape of the classroom among all the policy that lumps all classrooms under test score statistics. It’s a tidbit from de Certeau that Jan Nespor used in his compelling 1997 study that revealed the complexities inherent in one school community, Tangled Up in School:

de Certeau (1984) drew [a contrast] between experiencing a city from the top of a skyscraper and experiencing it from the “ground level,” as a pedestrian. On the street, he suggested, the tempos and rhythms of a walker, the detours, improvised routes, stops, conversations, and interactions “actualize the possibilities” of the formal city grid to create spaces of the body. The city is a multisensory bodily experience, not something consumed in a look, but something felt, smelled, heard, and tasted as well as seen. We grasp it not as a totality, but as an unfolding journey: The walkers’ “bodies follow the thicks and thins of an urban ‘text’ without being able to read it” (p. 93). Instead of looking at the city as a representation, a map, walkers […] create spatialities by their paths and itineraries.
“From the top of a skyscraper, on the other hand, the city looks like a tableau in an abstract space, a “planned and readable” city (de Certeau, 1984, pp. 92-93). People appear as discrete, interchangeable objects moving through the terrain. One body looks much like another to the unaided eye. […] Along with passion and desire, the view from the top of the skyscraper ignores how activity is improvised and negotiated, how people’s acts are grounded in limited and partial perspectives that unfold and develop in time. It ignores, in short, the qualities of bodily experience that shape everyday life. In their place, still speaking metaphorically, the high-rise dweller focuses on a static landscape seen from a distant vantage point. And the more accustomed we become to looking at things from such a vantage point, the more inclined we are to think of them as if they really were just like static images. […] We begin to treat people, things, and activities as detached objects or visual tableaus to scrutinize and observe at a distance rather than as things to get close to, to become involved with. (pp. 121-122)

Let’s take what we can learn about education through the skyscraper view of  “scientific rationality” where we can see from above and across many students, teachers, schools, and classrooms as a static landscape. But we cannot let that view eclipse what we can learn about classrooms by remembering that they are not static; classrooms evolve and shift as humans interact and negotiate with one another.

We must remember that classrooms are peopled by unique individuals who deserve to be treated with dignity.

Posted in balancing, education, policy, research, the system, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

That was painful…

My apologies for not writing the posts that are floating around in my head. I hope to get to them soon.

My writing energy for the last few days has been focused upon a research presentation proposal to next year’s NCTE conference.

A research proposal that started at 2000 words but that I had to shorten to 500. (And the original 2000 was a very economical condensing of my entire 350 page dissertation to begin with).

Ouch. My head hurts.

Posted in professional development, research, writing | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

How did I teach public speaking before YouTube?!

Really, what did I do?

I am teaching a section of public speaking this spring for the first time since the fall of 2003. First observation- wow, I have changed a lot as a teacher. And I mean that in the best possible way. More thoughts about that in a moment.

Second observation- wow, youtube. As I was planning the first week or so of the class the fact that youtube has become a significant teaching resource for me was thrown into relief. I found myself cueing up videos I wanted to use that I have cataloged over the past several years (are you using ‘favorites’ and folders to organize your youtube videos? you should be) and searching for new resources to do some things I just haven’t had to do before (I teach classes with a public speaking component, but this is the first time in ten years I have taught the stand-alone class).

What youtube does is allow me to engage the same sort of practice I consider essential to teaching writing. In writing I like to think about “marinating” my students in models of good writing. We read examples and dissect them, investigating how the writers created the effects we see in the writing. Now, with the help of youtube, I can do the same in public speaking. I suppose that ten years ago I showed them some videos, probably of things like presidential speeches, and we thought about them. Youtube allows me to show a much broader range of what verbal communication is: Franz Johanssen (author of The Medici Effect and an incredibly dynamic public speaker), TED talks, university lectures, Oscar acceptance speeches, political stump speeches, personal rants, strange advertisements, performance pieces (Taylor Mali is always good). There really is no limit. There are even videos speaking very effectively to specific teaching points I want to make (the problems of bad PowerPoint, for example). Of course, youtube also provides some examples of really bad public speaking (I won’t share links), which can be useful as well.

It’s like a teacher’s buffet out there. And every time I think of something new I want to give an example of, I can find it. We were discussing forms of informational speaking the other day, and I found this clip of Neil DeGrasse Tyson speaking about whether  a meteor will destroy the earth. It is a really great example of someone who is an amazing communicator.

And we aren’t wasting time with long speeches on video. A 2-5 minute clip is all I need. We can dissect it, analyze it, and move on to figuring out how we can incorporate those techniques in our own communicating. It really changes the course. When we use the term ‘public speaking’ we think speeches and lectures. Which are a form of communication. But what I really want my students to learn is not just how to give a formal speech (though that is a useful skill), but how to think critically about communication, and make informed and skilled decisions about what their goals are in any given situation, and how best to achieve those goals as proficient communicators.

So really Youtube has been part of transforming the class into a very 21st century communications course, focusing on spoken communication instead of written. Like so many things, it isn’t really what we are doing that has changed (though some of it has), it is how we think about what we are doing that has changed. School, at least in terms of this class, is a little less contrived, a little less artificial, a little more about learning things that will help students to achieve their own goals and plans in life. A little more engaging.

Allright. I said I would talk about how my teaching has changed in a larger sense, but I am going to break that into a second post, as this one is getting long enough. Click the links,  go explore the interwebs, think more about teaching and learning. I am.

Posted in 21st century teaching and learning, cultivating real learning, engagement, teaching, technology | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments