Archive for June, 2010

Tell me something good

by Janessa Jordan

I love rituals in the classroom.

Scratch that–I love rituals with purpose in the classroom.

In my “Classroom Leadership” class, one of our classroom rituals is to share “good things” with the rest of the class. We listen to a 30 second clip of Rufus and Chaka Khan’s song “Tell Me Something Good” (listen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkJFodl9I1U) and share seven-ten exciting tid-bits of news going on in my colleagues non-school lives. The “good things” have ranged from doing hot yoga with friends to learning the sex of my colleague’s prenatal baby to parents visiting town. This ritual has a few specific purposes: First, it helps create community among the group. Colleagues learn about one another by the “good things” shared in the group. We each share in the joy of a colleague becoming an aunt or another colleague’s girlfriend coming to town to visit. Thus, the classroom becomes a safe place where we can share our ideas and communicate our challenges about classroom material. Second, the group gains an appreciation of non-academic successes. Academic and personal lives are no longer compartmentalized. Sharing personal joys anchors our learning to something beyond mere success in the classroom, but rather ties it pursuing the goodness that life has to offer. Lastly, colleagues feel a sense of shared identity with the rest of their classmates.

Why am I rambling on about the “good things” ritual in my class? Because I believe that creating a community of learners who support one another’s joys is fundamental in closing the achievement gap.

I volunteered at Breakthrough Denver last year. Every day during the All School Meeting, students were encouraged to share good things that had happened in their weeks. In the beginning, students would share the Algebra homework that they received an “A” on or the English essay that they had improved over several drafts. Only a handful of students would offer their good things, and only them after cajoling from the leader. Gradually, students began to share more personal things that they were doing, such as improving their free throw shooting or rereading a high school level novel for fun. More and more students offered their joys to the group, and as a result, more students were inspired to share their triumphs. By the end of the year, almost every student shared their joys with the group–including a student who was accepted into an local IB program, a student who was raising money for Haiti Earthquake Awareness, and a student who shook President Obama’s hand during a speech. The students were so encouraged by their fellow classmates that they wanted to include their own joys in the mix.

Sharing in joy with one another encourage students to pursue those activities that will perpetuate the joy between peers, thus creating a supportive community. This community helps students stay focused on their personal goals and, more importantly, deters them from pursuing things that will be destructive to their goals.

So go on…tell me something good…

Hope

By Nate Reaven

Leading up to our first day of school, we were instructed to call the parents of our students. We will be calling these parents every week, but these were the first phone calls of the summer. These were reminder phone calls to both the inexperienced parents with students coming for the first time to the program, and the grizzled veterans – the parents of students with multiple years under their belt. Because I’m teaching the rising ninth graders, the oldest students, nearly all of the parents I talked to were occupants of the second category – grizzled veteran.

We were instructed to remind these academically minded parents about what time to arrive, where to pick up their bus, what they needed to bring – logistics. These phone calls were going fine – until I met Julie, the grandmother of one of my students, Elizabeth

Julie was fantastic. She was clearly aware and interested in her granddaughter’s experience over the summer. But more than that, Julie was interested in her future.  Her daughter is smart, she is just not very good at English – she’s a slow reader, she told me. Elizabeth was just accepted into the International Baccalaureate program, she tells me, and is quite excited about the math program there. She wants to know what strategies I have to help her learn how to read faster and with more understanding, and I tell her that I’ll try to do my best.

After reading Garrett’s post about calling to sell students on learning – on enriching their lives, I realized how much of a pleasure it was to find a grandmother in, let’s be clear, a difficult situation. The students in this program are only allowed in if they meet certain criteria. Specifically, low socio-economic status, usually a person of color, and someone who has been underserved by their public school options. The students, however, are usually motivated, excited, and ready to learn.

Garrett is forced to convince his students to learn. I am forced to teach Romeo and Juliet to kids who want to learn about Shakespeare, but to the same demographic of students. Garrett walked into an empty classroom, while my fellow teachers and I ran up to every student as they arrived and cheered as they exited the bus. We were creating a culture of excitement around learning.

I do not know what to do about this. I suppose keep doing what I am doing, right? Teaching. Learning. Teaching.

I do know one thing though. I am glad for that conversation I had with Julie, the spectacular grandmother. She gave me hope.

Cold Calling

By Garrett Hedman

Oh the anticipation I had for my first day! Well, here’s how it panned out.

I rode the bus. Yes, I am one of 12 teachers out of 200 that takes the 20-minute bus ride to our school every morning. My father, a bus driver himself, would be proud. The benefits of daily bus riding: brilliant, Mississippi sunrises, breakfast, and more than an hour of free time to prepare for the day. Not to mention, I’m saving the environment. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that 8 of the 12 teachers that chose ride the bus teach high school science (primarily biology and chemistry).

Anyway, I entered the high school/elementary school (the buildings are adjacent to each other) with great anticipation to set up my classroom. Walking down the hall I was greeted by a friendly cockroach that I introduced to the bottom of my boat shoes (my first roach extermination ever). I entered my classroom, and began to put up posters around the walls. We have the “Our Big Goal” poster, the “HollaDolla Reward System” poster (yes, I decided to use the currency that I wrote about in the previous post), the “Classroom Rules” poster, the “Objective Mastery” poster (it tracks how well people are doing on understanding the objectives we teach each day), and a periodic table. The room was shaping up to be a conducive environment to learn.

In the science workroom, my teaching partner and I rehearsed what we were going to say one more time. I then started to dance a little to get pumped up for the day when a woman stepped into the room asking for all science teachers to gather for a meeting.

The woman calmly explained to us that no students had showed up for Chemistry and only half of the expected students showed up for high school English and Biology, a.k.a. I’m not teaching my first day! I couldn’t help but laugh and think of the readers of this blog, all the anticipation, the insight, then BOOM! I’m not teaching.

The woman goes on to explain to us how the school had offered a two-week extension of school that students could take to make up classes they originally failed. However, there were still quite a few students who opted not to attend the two-week extension, so there was a chance to “recruit” some students to teach. So we started to make phone calls. Yes, I was the telemarketer selling education. “Your child has the chance to enrich his mind. Also, he can make up credit.” How awkward, yet how powerful. It was the first thing I actually wanted to sell, but was afraid to. However, the deeper I got into the phone list, the more I thought to myself how much four weeks could impact these students.

This is what Teach for America is about. Although administration may throw us a curve ball, we call families to get students into the classroom to enrich their minds, to close the achievement gap.

Nonetheless, our work paid off. The next day, my second first day, I had eight students.

And also, 500+500 = ?

by Eric Benzel

The anti-calculator people can add the following video clip to their arsenal.

I love pop culture!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgjeaLIjnGQ&feature=player_embedded

I’m writing a paper right now on the gendering of math in popular media. There is some really great research already out there (mostly from England), but I was wondering what you all think of… what images of mathematicians and math come to mind from movies, television shows, advertisements, music? Leave a comment! I can try to use some of your ideas in my writing!

First, imagine.

by Eric Benzel

I am taking a course called Radical Philosophies and Education at Teacher’s College: two weekends of all day discussions. The environment is a mix of the energetic and intellectual, innovative and critical. It is a wonderful course, and I am being encouraged to rethink my own constructions of schooling in very real ways.

Likely, I will talk about this in later posts, but today, I need to write about a conversation I had with another student during our lunch break.

This teacher, Sargeant, teaches geometry to high school students in a fairly progressive school in the South Bronx. She just finished her first year of teaching while a part of the peace corps fellowship at TC. This means she was teaching and earning certification all at the same time. First of all, I think Sargeant has done some pretty incredible things in her classroom: focus on learning mathematics through writing, an innovative trial curriculum that focusses on developing geometry through symmetries, and she started an after-school math club. On top of this, she had a relentlessly supportive principal and a team of dedicated teachers. She had it made right?

It was her last week of teaching, and I asked, “So what are you feeling after the year?” Her answer was first of all, exhausted: it was obvious that she spent everything on those kids.

What has stayed with me though, almost hauntingly, was this thing she said…

I feel like I should be hopeful. But most of my students are failing. I wasn’t good enough for them… I could see how after five years of this, a teacher would be able to say that the students aren’t able to learn, because I’m not sure how long I can feel like I’m not able to teach. Hope? Right. It’s hard enough to have imagination.

Wow. Hope was not enough. Innovative curriculum was not enough. Dedicated, beyond-sleep, work past every contract, blood and tears teaching was not enough. I don’t know how much we recognize teachers like Sargeant. Most measures will probably not reflect the imagination that she is investing into her students… the raw energy devoted to the learning, teaching, planning, and loving.

It seems given that a teacher should have hope and belief that every student in the class can and should succeed, but what happens when someone gets done with their first year teaching having a hard time even imagining this possibility?

It is hard to think about the coming year, knowing that I will not reach all of the students (maybe not even the majority) who are in my classroom. Maybe, Sargeant made a much greater difference than she can recognize. Still, I want to take the time now to start imagining what can be possible, the improbable, even the absurd so that when I finally have my own classroom (and reality has set in), I can remain hopeful. So I guess this is my strategy for now. First, imagine. Then, hope.

“Literacy”

by Janessa Jordan

This morning, I was awakened by a new text message from one of my former Breakthrough students, J. “Ms. Jordan–I asked my mom if I could stay in Miami this summer! I’m going to Breakthrough! Are you going to be teaching?” This text message warmed my heart and demonstrated the importance of forming relationships with students.

J was one of my first students at Breakthrough in my 7th grade Biology class. Looking back at that summer teaching, I had no idea what I was doing! I was lucky that I was a creative, friendly person, which was helpful to create engaging activities for my students (slam poetry about DNA!), however the actual material that the students learned was utter rubbish. At that time, I had very little teaching experience and even less science experience, so J and his classmates had to endure my relatively horrid instructional practice. I let one of my students read Twilight in class because she always answered her questions correctly. I had a student with a learning disability and was inconsistent about modifying lessons to adapt to her needs. And here’s the best story: one time, a student asked me, “Miss  J, what’s a protein?” I panicked and answered, “Well, um…it’s a little message that your body sends itself to do things….” Sigh. Those poor children!

Even though my classroom instruction was less than spectacular, I dedicated a tremendous amount of energy and heart getting to know my students–specifically, my students’ “literacies.” By “literacies,” I mean the knowledge that my students came to class already experts on. These literacies ranged from freestyle rapping to chess to slang words. Each one of these literacies demonstrated competencies that my students taught me throughout the summer. By learning these literacies, I was able to form connections with students and be their student.

J and I connected over music. He was learning how to play the drums (from another Breakthrough teacher) and would drum in the background of my guitar-playing. During lunch or after class, I would ask him to show me how to do some of his drum riffs, and supported him during the end of the summer performance when he and the rest of his class performed. This past summer, he started playing guitar too!

When I think about my value-added that summer, it didn’t come from excellent instruction or leaps in student progress, but by working extremely hard at forming interpersonal relationships with my kids. Tight enough bonds that those students still feel comfortable contacting me today and talking to me about their lives, two years after my initial teaching them.

J’s text showed me three things today: a) J is excited about learning, b) he wants to communicate that to me and c) being his student helped create an important bond that still lasts today.  I’ll continue searching for ways to be taught literacy by my kids.

Training to be a Teacher

By Nate Reaven

Now THIS is what university education schools should look like.

I currently believe (I am open to changing my mind with a solid argument and good evidence), that education schools at the undergraduate level focus on good things, but not the best things. For instance, at CU Boulder, in the majority of my education classes, we were instructed to create 20-minute lesson plans in groups on books like The Kite Runner or To Kill a Mockingbird. We were given weeks to plan this one activity. We taught our peers, all of whom are in college, are intelligent, and want to be teachers. In other words, we taught the ideal middle-school student. Standards are addressed, but they usually seemed to be secondary to the activity. I once received an A++. Really? An A++ is a lovely grade, certainly one that improves the GPA, but a grade that did not encourage me to improve, because I did not know what to improve upon. I was apparently, perfect.

For these reasons, I am excited to begin teaching summer school. I knew that I would be teaching real-live students, with real-live learning difficulties, and subsequently, real-live skills to improve on. However, I did not hypothesize that the training would be quite this good. We focused on skills that we will need in the classroom right away. We focused on how to write a lesson-plan far more explicitly than I ever did in college. We focused on the Say/See/Do (SSD) method of teaching a concept, and the Visual Instructional Plan (VIP) method of teaching a skill. We focused on breaking down skills into easy-to-digest steps. We focused on Active Participation (AP) in a way that allows students to remain constantly entertained and focused. We focused on creating an objective – how to backwards plan, with more purpose then I generally found in an educational classroom in college. There are no grades for the teachers – not just because we aren’t doing this for school, but because we are learning how to be teachers for ourselves. We want to learn how to do better.

I cannot describe how helpful this training has been.

At this point, I am contrasting training-styles and content focuses. It is unfair of me to choose one style over the other and call it superior. It could all just be my personal preference.

I will say this – beginning Monday I will be teaching Romeo and Juliet to middles school, inner city, underprivileged, and under-taught youth for six weeks. I will have a mentor teacher checking all of my lesson plans every week, coming into my classroom multiple times a week, and other experienced teachers at my disposal to discuss lesson-plan ideas. I will have teacher-peers who will be going through the same experiences, and teaching the same kids every single day, as I will. I will be able to improve regularly, and rapidly.

I have no doubt that all of these resources will prove to be invaluable as I move on to student teaching in the fall, and a career in education later. I just wish that every future teacher had this same opportunity.

They Don’t Know

By Garrett Hedman

I love 5am mornings, especially when I can walk outside and my glasses can be an anecdote for the lesson on condensation I’m giving in two days. That is, I walk out of the dorms of Delta State University, tie askew, zombiing my way to breakfast, and my glasses fog because of the heat and humidity…at 5am in the morning. What I do for these kids. students. scientists. Yeah, I like scientists.

They don’t know that I’ve woken up at 5am for the past two weeks to make sure I’m the best teacher I can be for them. They don’t know that I’ve been going to bed at 12:30am to finalize lesson plans on atomic structure. They don’t know.

A place of rest and comfort at institute has been an art garden by the Bologna Performing Arts Center. A small fountain sits in the middle of the garden’s entangled pathway of abstract sculptures. I have methodically walked around the edges of the fountain rehearsing my “teacher voice”, an assertive, caring, confident, firm voice. “I see the bronze sculpture is behaving quietly today.” The garden is also where I try to inspire the stone statue without a head that “It can learn. It will learn.” The garden is my education sanctuary.

The scientists don’t know I’ve spent hours rehearsing what I’m going to say to them. That way, when I’m in front of my class, I can act as if my knowledge of chemical bonds is second nature to me. They don’t know.

I’ve worked relentlessly for four years in college to understand how we learn, problem solve, and make decisions. That work means nothing to the students.

I’ve cried over the stories of triumph that have inspired me to teach in the Mississippi Delta. Those tears mean nothing to the students.

But I know. I know what I’ve done.

So I take a breath. I put on a smile, and I say, “Good morning class, my name is Mr. Hedman.”

EdNewsColorado

Instead of a guest blogger this week, we would like to take the time to thank our partner Ednewscolorado.org. I interned for this wonderful organization during my sophomore year of college at the University of Colorado at Boulder. No other resource offers the detail, depth, and commentary, which Ednews provides for all Colorado education related news. After getting their newsletter for years, it truly was a thrill for me to see my name included in the articles provided this week. We here at NorthtoSouthEducation are looking forward to a wonderful relationship with this influential organization.

An Honors Education for Everyone

I didn’t believe it, at first. I couldn’t stop thinking, “This is incredible… impossible even.” An entire district in New York eliminated the achievement gap in students graduating with a Regent’s Diploma (the highest of three diplomas offered by the state), saw their minority enrollment in AP Calculus triple, and now have a higher percentage of special education students graduating with Regents diplomas than New York state graduates with all students. If you haven’t heard the story of Rockeville Centre District… keep reading.

SSHS EntranceThis week (my second week of class here at TC), we had a presentation from the former Assistant Superintendent of Instruction, Delia Garrity, who helped lead the reform effort in RVC. The premise of reform was simple: every student in the district deserves the best education possible and this is not happening. The superintendent, with several principals, started simply, presenting the extreme inequity to teachers, parents, and community members with data. Eventually, no one could deny the problem: you can’t have an equal education for all when students are tracked into unequal curriculums. The superintendent believed that there will necessarily be a gap between students when the lowest tracks (where students are taught curriculum that pales in comparison with the honors curriculum) include more minority, low SES, special education, and ELL students than the general tracks.

So RVC stopped tracking. Completely. And in every subject, including math! They did it slowly, starting with the elementary and middle schools and finally moving to the high school. You can read the whole story here. The whole time, administrators and eventually teachers were driven by the belief that all students should have and can do well in an honors level education.

What about the highest achieving students? Well, as it turns out, they did better too. It really sounds too good to be true but the data (there is a ton) is very clear. The HS principal worked with two professors at the University of Colorado (my alma mater!) to write this article which presents a very compelling case. What made it work? The administration credit higher amount of support for struggling students, high expectations and belief in every student, and extensive professional development in differentiation for teachers (not to mention a ton of political patience).

I know this is a controversial thing to do. Detracking is a big deal in any district: but I think the most important part of this story is that RVC had to make a structural change to influence the belief that every student can learn at a high level. They couldn’t sustain that belief with rhetoric but had to take action: more support for struggling students, teachers, and parents along with a unified, honors level curriculum. All the right ingredients for change.

The frustrating part of this all: I am not going to be a superintendent next year. If I get a job in a school that tracks students (read: almost every school), it is unlikely that I will have enough of a voice to change the tracking structure at the school, much less the elementary and middle schools that feed it. BUT I CAN BELIEVE IN MY STUDENTS. Rockeville Centre along with the many districts who are now beginning the long process of detracking their curriculum show us that all students CAN achieve at an honors level if we believe in them and give them the support along the way. And maybe (after tenure?) I can be a voice to help move the curriculum structure in that direction.

Until then, I accept the job as subversive detracker, believing that every student in my class, even if it is general or skills tracked class, deserves an honors level education.