Archive for the ‘ General ’ Category

Becoming Obsessed

By Garrett Hedman

All I can say is that I hope this doesn’t stop.

This morning I woke up and watched a TED talk about technology to helped the paralyzed, which I chased down with an hour long video from the Teach for America Summit on improving STEM education in the nation.

On my bed stand is an issue of Scientific American Mind that talks about the neuroscience of day dreaming and the most recent issue of Popular Science, the 6th annual “How it works” issue.

On my floor are two books: Xenocide, the third book of the Ender’s Series (an award winning science fiction series) and the Mythbusters Science Fair book, that I picked up this week from our book fair.

And with the papers to grade and the lessons to plan on ideal gases that I will complete after this post, science has never been so infused into my life.

Long live the scientist inside us all.

“Humanizing the classroom”

If you haven’t heard about www.kahnacademy.org yet, you probably will soon. Sal, the teacher on all the videos, has support from some pretty amazing organizations, and the slick interface and quick upstart makes that clear!

Here’s the premise: if we let students learn skills through dynamic online tutorials at home, we can free up class time to be full of actual collaboration (as opposed to the psuedo-collaborative process of even the best whole class questioning).

Check out the TED talk here.

Could you have learned math this way? Could this free up class time for more dynamic and collaborative activities?

Coming Home

Tomorrow I will start the last quarter of my first year at Greenville Weston High School. As my principal compliments, “Congratulations for those of you that have made it this far.”

My lack of writing in the past months came from a lack of time, but even more, came from a lack of confidence. First semester was ridiculous: fights, grades, parents, weapons, behavior, sleep, confidence, administration, technology…I did not think I could be the teacher my friends, my family, and I envisioned; I was scared.

At the beginning of the year, older TFA members persistently reminded us newbies, “Just wait. Things get better.” I couldn’t believe those words when my class averaged a thirty percent on a test, and I wrote six behavior referrals in one day. A sick feeling gnawed at my insides; my body was literally telling my brain, “we don’t belong here”.

But good news, just as the second years predicted—it got better.

I always found a greater good in whatever mess I was in, and I made my house a home, a place of comfort and rest. I’ve got many transformational stories to share with you. We have nine weeks of school, 95 students, 400 TFA corps members, and one chemistry classroom to talk about. So I’m going to enjoy this last, sacred day of Spring Break, and I’ll be back, Mr. Hedman in all his greatness, next week. Welcome home!

Turning Old

By Garrett Hedman

It’s 6am on a Saturday. I’m sitting outside my apartment watching the sunset’s splash of colors reflect on Lake Ferguson. I’m bundle up with a wool hat, sweatshirt, and an extra blanket. Andrew Bird whistles a sweet melody on my computer, and I’m struck by a strange thought—what lead to me being up SO early on a teacher’s sacred Saturday morning? Am I turning old?

I remember my roommate’s post about the life of a young teacher and it starts to give reason to my early alertness, working long hours in a sometimes chaotic environment, but I wish to complete the young teacher’s “full day” reflecting on the hours outside of instruction to help explain why I’m up early on this Saturday morning.

4am: I’m up. Awoken to the ironic ring-tone of ‘peaceful dreaming’ on my phone, I grab my mac book pro and stare into the illumination. I begin to plan the lesson for the day that in just a mere 6 hours I will teach.

7am: Cocoa Puffs. At the beginning of the year I began to eat an ‘All Bran’ type cereal with thawed fruit, but now I realize that my mornings, after concentrated lesson planning, need to be pure pleasure, and this is only done by satisfying my sugar cravings deprived as a youth—a bowl of cocoa puffs.

7:20am: Off to school.

7:40am: Arrive at school. Set up my room for the day: make copies, update quiz scores, update class points, put up the new objective on the board, and clean up the trash; basically, I make the place where I work, a place where I want to be.

8:30am: Go to the courtyard to process tardies with other teachers and administrators. If students have a parent with them they are allowed to go to class unpunished; otherwise, today, they get a one-day suspension for being tardy. Why this harsh punishment? Because students would rather talk in the halls than go to class in the morning—so something has to get them to class.

9:00am: I finish the power point for the day and put up the bell ringer.

9:40am: I read either a science magazine (Popular Science or Scientific American) or a fictional story to give my mind rest for the long morning.

10-4pm: I teach.

4-5pm: This time consists of phone calls to parents, tutoring, writing referrals for the day, and cleaning up the room…again.

5-7pm: On Tuesdays and Thursdays I coach the goalies on the soccer team, on Wednesdays I have professional development through Teach for America, and on Mondays and Fridays I run for my personal enjoyment.

7pm: I attempt to make dinner. I’m a college boy cook—pasta, soup, frozen pizza and rice are my specialties.

7:30: I read again or watch a TED video. I’m exhausted by the day, so really doing any work would be painful to endure.

8am: I’m asleep.

8 hours later I begin the day again.

My younger brother commented that my sleeping schedule reflects a transformation into an old person. Early to bed, early to rise. But right now…as I sit and look out upon the lake in front of me, I cannot help but smile because I don’t feel old. On the contrary I feel quite alive; I feel young.

I recall the mornings in elementary school waking up at 5am to watch Sonic the Hedgehog before my parents awoke. I loved those mornings, and perhaps that is what I’m reverting to, my past 6-year-old habits.

Chilled by the morning and warmed by my thoughts, I take my 6-year-old self in my apartment and begin my cherished weekend.

Remembering Who I Am

By Garrett Hedman

In the first orientation with my school district, I learned that I would be sized up. That students will look at me, judge me, and ask, “How far can I push him? How much can I really learn from him?” A large, kind football coach reassured me, “and looking at you…yeah, you’ll get sized up.” So now the question becomes, how much am I willing to change so when students size me up they realize they can’t push me around; they have to learn in my classroom? How much am I willing to change for the sake of educating others?

Now, I’ve got the face. It took me a while, but I learned it—the cold-hearted, nothing you say or do will disrupt me, I’m here to teach and teach alone, don’t mess with me face. Never in my life have I felt the need to learn such a look. Never in my life have I wanted to learn such a look, but as every good species does, I adapted to my environment.

For those readers that know me, this may come to no surprise, but I could only play this game for so long. Two weeks into the school year my insides would churn just driving up to the school where I had to be someone I didn’t want to be. This churning had driven other teachers out of the school. Three Teach for America teachers, had quit within those first few weeks for many reasons, but from what I’ve heard, a lot of it came from that “churning stomach”*.

Dissatisfied with how I was feeling, one day after school I decided to run on the Mississippi levy. Two steps on the levy and I felt my body explode with energy. It seemed like every step I took was a release of the person I had become and a release of the frustration of that change. The facade I built around me began to shed with that run, and by the end, I once again felt like I was showing the true skin of Garrett. For the first time in the school year, I felt like life was going to turn around.

It was soon after that run, I had some of my best days in the classroom. I decided to be myself—laugh and love, but it was all centered in the context of urgent education. At first the students were confused, but I felt great, and I think they were happier knowing the teacher was happier. Inappropriate behavior or partial commitment to education was not tolerated in the classroom because we would be denying ourselves an opportunity to grow.

I have run 4-5 days a week since this turn around as a reminder of who I am.

I still have poor days, generally when my lessons are poor, and I have wonderful days, generally when I prepare wonderful lessons, but at the end of the day, I try to be comfortable in who I am and what I’ve done.

So as I sit with my feet in an oxbow lake of the Mississippi river and as the sun paints its colors in the sky through a sunset, I feel lucky, lucky that this world may not just be adapting to one’s environment, but also, perhaps even more importantly, allowing the environment adapt to you.

* This is a high rate of leave from TFA teachers in an area and does not represent the actual rate of drop out.

Step Up

By Garrett Hedman

I’m here to inspire students to become learners, and starting Wednesday, I will be a full time inspirer. I’m going to center my class around the theme of “One Step”, and to explain the theme I will say this poem I wrote a year ago. I hope you enjoy!

One Step

It’s when you see a baby—a bluberous, bulge of a being
Making the effort to go against all odds and conquer the pull of the earth
To reach the first step
The step that makes people cheer because the baby
Stepped into a new way of life.

It’s when you see hero—an American story, an American legend
Who captivates the attention of millions of people across the nation to go to a place beyond all imagination—the moon.
To take one small step for man kind.

It’s when you see a stranger—a dirty, society claimed outcast
who is the only one that sees a friend out cold on the ground
so he takes a step of desperation and 10 more into a run to help the rejected
A step to help an invisible man.

It’s when you see a man take one step forward and bow down on his knee
To look at his partner in the eyes and see the future ahead of him
To see that love conquers all
After a step forward is taken.

Whether it’s a dancers beat of life or a baseball player’s step to the plate
A step can be the start of change, a start of something new
And to only wonder what steps could have been taken, haven’t been taken, will be taken
By me, by you

In the water

by Eric Benzel

I got schooled in a water fight by a little elementary school girl and her abuela yesterday. My roommate and I ran out into the street, and twirled a few times in the blasting fire hydrant. When we walked back on the sidewalk, it was to dry off. Then, from behind, one of our neighbor’s daughters dumbed a bucket of the cold water on my back! Her grandmother then proceeded to hit me again from the side before I could find a bucket of my own! The water battle erupted, everyone to their own! I knew a couple of the guys throwing water buckets (D and Brandon are always on the stoop) but most were strangers. It was a moment where the barriers I had felt on our little block broke down: who knew it would take a heat wave and an open fire hydrant to cut through much of the cultural and language tensions that I had imagined (or perceived) since moving in.

Last week, I posted a picture of some kids playing in a hydrant on a different street. Looking back at that picture, I realize how much of an outsider I often feel here. It is easy to feel distant from the people in the neighborhood. In my classes, we talk about the traditionally marginalized, low-income, ELL students in New York City. We discuss diversity and community from a safe distance. My news blogs I follow are full of people writing about the charter school wars happening in the city right now. People discussing remarkable gains among ‘high-needs’ students, or the impact of charter schools on public school spaces in poverty ridden communities. It is easy to keep distance from the actual, breathing people that are behind these stories and the pedagogical techniques.

It was reviving to be in a water fight with my neighbors. Fun, laughter, and the heat brought our street together in a very beautiful and authentic way. I am so ready to be in a classroom where the ‘Latino and Black’, ELL, and high poverty students are not just a category, but students that I have a living connection with. I am ready to be in a school where families from the community and neighborhood connect with each other and with teachers. I think these tangible moments provide more opportunity for learning than the distanced discussion that is occupying so much of my learning right now.

At CU, in my Ed Pysch class with Vicki Hand, we wrote case studies on students we got to know over an entire semester. This is the type of real life relational learning that I crave… I appreciate the distanced discussions of impacts of detracking in math classrooms, and I’m learning a lot here.

But I’m ready to get in the water.

School’s out for the summer (thinking about graduation)

by Eric Benzel

Isn’t this picture wonderful?! My dad took this photo of a bunch of teenagers playing in the fire hydrants this week while they were out here to visit: classic NYC. Students had their last day of school last friday, and there have been kids playing everywhere! Last friday was also graduation across most of the city: the subways were full of students in their dress clothes and graduation gowns holding flowers. Proud parents surrounded their beaming graduates! It was pretty exciting.

This all has got me thinking about being a teacher! Graduation seems like it means something very different for teachers. What will I feel when my first students walk across the stage and receive their diplomas? Pride of course. Maybe sadness, excitement, fear, or loss? Students that I will have known for a semester or four years will be leaving the safe space we try to create in schools to enter the real world. How will I feel as a teacher?

That is, if I get to be a teacher here in the city next year. If you haven’t caught the news, NYC is on a hiring freeze, and the mayor and governor have proposed budget cuts to prevent laying off thousands of additional new teachers. Nonetheless, last year, NYDOE recieved 23,000 applications for new teachers and hired just ten percent of applicants! The real world is quickly approaching! Its going to be application time before we know it… is it too soon to be thinking about the first graduation? ;-)

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!

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.