There was also a 4th type of student - one who had stellar grades and modest, but borderline acceptable scores on the algebra readiness test. He was the model student: reasonably intelligent, very hard working, respectful, personable. We accepted him into the algebra class as well, even though his algebra readiness score was somewhat less than I was comfortable with. The other teacher defended his inclusion, saying that he was one of her best students and would be extremely disappointed if he weren't selected for the algebra class.
He did OK. It was clearly a struggle for him, but he was, indeed a hard worker, he had support at home, and he was willing to ask for help when he needed it. In his case, I think the class was OK for him. It was a bit above what was a comfortable learning curve for him, but he had learned some of the study skills and personal skills that I wish gifted kids would learn: persistence, asking for help when needed, organization.
And this makes me wonder, if gifted kids were closer to their zone of proximal development for a reasonable portion of their school day, would they learn better learning skills. With my own two children, it seemed to work. But that is a pretty small sample.
I write about anything that interests me. Now that I am retired, I am writing much less about education and gifted issues. It isn't that I don't care about them, but my contributions are increasingly out of date. Some of my posts I think are still way too relevant (e.g., Teachers Can't Do It All), but most new posts will not be on those topics. Note: Anonymous comments must be on topic. 27May2014
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
The Use of Placement Tests
I think I have written about this before, but I can't find the post and I want to think about it again, so here goes a reconstruction of the idea.
Years ago, I was teaching algebra to 8th graders who were recommended by their previous math teacher for inclusion in the algebra class. In general, the criteria she used for recommending students for the class were two-fold: they had to have good mathematical understanding (evidence: tests) and they had to have good work habits ("A"s in math, which, with her grading system meant that they turned in virtually all of their homework).
Since I was the one who actually did the teaching of the algebra class, I thought it might be interesting to add to these criteria an algebra readiness test. So we gave the algebra readiness test to quite a few more students than she anticipated were actually qualified to take algebra. Interestingly, we now had a new problem. There were the kids who had good grades and who scored high on the readiness test. Clearly, they were ready for algebra. There were kids who had good grades, but who scored fairly low on the readiness test. Not quite as clear, but still relatively convincingly, they were not quite ready for algebra. But the ones that really led to a disagreement between the two of us were the ones in a third group: the ones who scored high on the readiness test, but who did not have especially good grades. These students were often described as the unmotivated ones, the ones who were lazy, the ones who just weren't interested in math. She felt these students should not be included, because they hadn't earned the right to be in the algebra class.
Not right away, but after thinking about it for a while, I began to wonder: why do we give smart kids a pass on taking classes or learning material that they are clearly ready for? For kids on the lower end of the ability spectrum, or kids with specific learning disabilities, do we let them opt out of addressing their weaknesses? No. We may give them extra support to help them handle their challenges, but we don't let them say, No, I am not interested in reading, so I am not going to do this hard reading, I am just going to read this lower level stuff that I know I can do just fine.
Why DO we let the smart kids opt out of challenging material?
And then, to carry that a bit further, what if we re-framed gifted education in terms of not just letting kids advance to higher level material, but instead use a slightly different argument: all students need to learn to work hard and to develop good study skills. Therefore, we need to place all students in curricula that are in their zone of proximal development (ZPG). Naturally, this will be an approximation. Teachers with 25 or more students in their classes can't be expected to individualize the entire class for each student, but it should be at least a goal. Kids who are reading 2 or 3 grade levels above their class level should be required to work just as hard at new reading goals as kids who are reading 2 or 3 grade levels below their class level. Why shouldn't they? Why do we let them coast? Why couldn't we re-frame the curriculum offerings to REQUIRE the kids who have mastered the regular curriculum to address curriculum that they haven't yet mastered?
As an experiment, we agreed to accept one student into the algebra class, who scored quite high on the readiness test, but whose grades would not have allowed him to take the class. He was the lazy one; the unmotivated one. And, interestingly, he continued this same pattern in algebra. He passed the tests, but often just barely; he could have done much better if he had actually done more of the work. I am not sure what we learned from the experiment. I think it would have to be repeated a number of times, before we could decide either way - and clearly, it also depends on the students involved. Even with material better suited to his readiness, he didn't learn good work habits. Was it too late? Should we have tried this when he was younger? Or are lazy students always lazy?
I still think we should require the smart kids to work harder. Perhaps this is because I never had to work hard in school myself, until I was well into college - and by then it caused a number of related imposter syndrome problems. (An entirely different post).
One more thing about the boy who was required to take algebra, even though he refused to work hard. I had a software program for my algebra students called Green Globs and Graphing Equations (from Sunburst, I think). The idea is that the computer sprays some random green globs over an x-y grid and you are supposed to try to hit them with lines. The more globs you hit at one time, the higher (exponentially) your score. This gentleman got really interested in the program and didn't want to stop at just straight lines. He asked for equations of different types of lines, so that he might try hitting more globs with one equation. I gave him circles, parabolas, ellipses. He wanted still more. I gave him trig functions, exponentials, anything I could think of. I showed him how to add parameters to the sine functions, so that he could make them more dense (that really racks up the points). He may not have been motivated to do homework, but he certainly did find something that interested him.
I wonder what he does now.
Years ago, I was teaching algebra to 8th graders who were recommended by their previous math teacher for inclusion in the algebra class. In general, the criteria she used for recommending students for the class were two-fold: they had to have good mathematical understanding (evidence: tests) and they had to have good work habits ("A"s in math, which, with her grading system meant that they turned in virtually all of their homework).
Since I was the one who actually did the teaching of the algebra class, I thought it might be interesting to add to these criteria an algebra readiness test. So we gave the algebra readiness test to quite a few more students than she anticipated were actually qualified to take algebra. Interestingly, we now had a new problem. There were the kids who had good grades and who scored high on the readiness test. Clearly, they were ready for algebra. There were kids who had good grades, but who scored fairly low on the readiness test. Not quite as clear, but still relatively convincingly, they were not quite ready for algebra. But the ones that really led to a disagreement between the two of us were the ones in a third group: the ones who scored high on the readiness test, but who did not have especially good grades. These students were often described as the unmotivated ones, the ones who were lazy, the ones who just weren't interested in math. She felt these students should not be included, because they hadn't earned the right to be in the algebra class.
Not right away, but after thinking about it for a while, I began to wonder: why do we give smart kids a pass on taking classes or learning material that they are clearly ready for? For kids on the lower end of the ability spectrum, or kids with specific learning disabilities, do we let them opt out of addressing their weaknesses? No. We may give them extra support to help them handle their challenges, but we don't let them say, No, I am not interested in reading, so I am not going to do this hard reading, I am just going to read this lower level stuff that I know I can do just fine.
Why DO we let the smart kids opt out of challenging material?
And then, to carry that a bit further, what if we re-framed gifted education in terms of not just letting kids advance to higher level material, but instead use a slightly different argument: all students need to learn to work hard and to develop good study skills. Therefore, we need to place all students in curricula that are in their zone of proximal development (ZPG). Naturally, this will be an approximation. Teachers with 25 or more students in their classes can't be expected to individualize the entire class for each student, but it should be at least a goal. Kids who are reading 2 or 3 grade levels above their class level should be required to work just as hard at new reading goals as kids who are reading 2 or 3 grade levels below their class level. Why shouldn't they? Why do we let them coast? Why couldn't we re-frame the curriculum offerings to REQUIRE the kids who have mastered the regular curriculum to address curriculum that they haven't yet mastered?
As an experiment, we agreed to accept one student into the algebra class, who scored quite high on the readiness test, but whose grades would not have allowed him to take the class. He was the lazy one; the unmotivated one. And, interestingly, he continued this same pattern in algebra. He passed the tests, but often just barely; he could have done much better if he had actually done more of the work. I am not sure what we learned from the experiment. I think it would have to be repeated a number of times, before we could decide either way - and clearly, it also depends on the students involved. Even with material better suited to his readiness, he didn't learn good work habits. Was it too late? Should we have tried this when he was younger? Or are lazy students always lazy?
I still think we should require the smart kids to work harder. Perhaps this is because I never had to work hard in school myself, until I was well into college - and by then it caused a number of related imposter syndrome problems. (An entirely different post).
One more thing about the boy who was required to take algebra, even though he refused to work hard. I had a software program for my algebra students called Green Globs and Graphing Equations (from Sunburst, I think). The idea is that the computer sprays some random green globs over an x-y grid and you are supposed to try to hit them with lines. The more globs you hit at one time, the higher (exponentially) your score. This gentleman got really interested in the program and didn't want to stop at just straight lines. He asked for equations of different types of lines, so that he might try hitting more globs with one equation. I gave him circles, parabolas, ellipses. He wanted still more. I gave him trig functions, exponentials, anything I could think of. I showed him how to add parameters to the sine functions, so that he could make them more dense (that really racks up the points). He may not have been motivated to do homework, but he certainly did find something that interested him.
I wonder what he does now.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
A Year's Growth Is Not Enough
At a recent professional development meeting of gifted coordinators, one of the attendees said something to the effect that, although each of us have different methods and strategies operating in our schools, we all had the same goal: a year's growth for each of our students.
I respectfully disagree. If we are setting our sights for gifted students on a year's growth, we are aiming too low. As I have written before, if average students can learn 10 things in a given amount of time, our gifted students should be able to learn 13 or more things in that amount of time. This is, of course, a gross oversimplification, but I believe that, as a goal, it should hold up pretty well.
In fact, I would assert that, if we are doing things right in our classrooms, the gap between the highly able students and the less able students should get larger and larger each year. It is fine to talk about getting rid of the gaps among various ethnic groups, the gaps among different socioeconomic classes, and gaps between genders, but it is different altogether when we talk about the gaps between students of different abilities. The only way to close that gap is to hold down the top, while boosting the bottom.
As educators interested in gifted students, we should aim for more than a year's growth every year and an increase of the gap between the achievement levels of average students and gifted students.
Of course, this brings us to the problem of assessment. In general, I would say we know very little about gifted students' levels of ability or the change in that ability from year to year. Most of the tests just don't go high enough for proper baselines. I see great potential in the use of computerized adaptive testing, but I must admit, I haven't had much direct experience with it.
I respectfully disagree. If we are setting our sights for gifted students on a year's growth, we are aiming too low. As I have written before, if average students can learn 10 things in a given amount of time, our gifted students should be able to learn 13 or more things in that amount of time. This is, of course, a gross oversimplification, but I believe that, as a goal, it should hold up pretty well.
In fact, I would assert that, if we are doing things right in our classrooms, the gap between the highly able students and the less able students should get larger and larger each year. It is fine to talk about getting rid of the gaps among various ethnic groups, the gaps among different socioeconomic classes, and gaps between genders, but it is different altogether when we talk about the gaps between students of different abilities. The only way to close that gap is to hold down the top, while boosting the bottom.
As educators interested in gifted students, we should aim for more than a year's growth every year and an increase of the gap between the achievement levels of average students and gifted students.
Of course, this brings us to the problem of assessment. In general, I would say we know very little about gifted students' levels of ability or the change in that ability from year to year. Most of the tests just don't go high enough for proper baselines. I see great potential in the use of computerized adaptive testing, but I must admit, I haven't had much direct experience with it.
Friday, April 20, 2012
High School Today
I frequently sub for math classes at the high school level. I am decent at math, though it has been a very long time since I had calculus, so that is a bit of a struggle. Thursday, I was teaching two calculus classes and two pre-calc classes (block scheduled) and today, Friday, I was in a different school district, teaching three algebra II classes and two intermediate algebra classes (and one study hall) (non-block scheduled).
Two things are relatively noteworthy: what's with the eating all day? Kids come into class with candy, breakfast, snacks, lunch, and drinks, no matter what time of day the class meets. Evidently the regular teachers permit this, but it completely astounds me. The kids have 30 minutes for lunch, but evidently they don't like to eat lunch at lunch time.
The other thing that I notice is that, with the exception of the calculus classes, most of the students are confused and not interested in even trying to find out why they don't understand their math. If I explain something on the board, even in response to a question, I have the feeling that I might as well be talking to the walls. No one is paying the least bit of attention - even the person who asked the question. I KNOW I am not that bad at explaining things. Over the years I have gotten enough direct feedback to know that I am actually reasonably good at it. But only if I am talking to students who are actually paying attention. It is impossible when they are shielding their faces so much that you can't tell whether they get it or not. I usually assume they are not getting it, but I leave feeling very confused myself: what is going on in their heads? Given that 80% of them are hooked up constantly to their electronics [why do teachers permit iPods all day? iPods that morph into iPhones and cell phones and electronics of any sort], my guess is that they aren't really there.
Two things are relatively noteworthy: what's with the eating all day? Kids come into class with candy, breakfast, snacks, lunch, and drinks, no matter what time of day the class meets. Evidently the regular teachers permit this, but it completely astounds me. The kids have 30 minutes for lunch, but evidently they don't like to eat lunch at lunch time.
The other thing that I notice is that, with the exception of the calculus classes, most of the students are confused and not interested in even trying to find out why they don't understand their math. If I explain something on the board, even in response to a question, I have the feeling that I might as well be talking to the walls. No one is paying the least bit of attention - even the person who asked the question. I KNOW I am not that bad at explaining things. Over the years I have gotten enough direct feedback to know that I am actually reasonably good at it. But only if I am talking to students who are actually paying attention. It is impossible when they are shielding their faces so much that you can't tell whether they get it or not. I usually assume they are not getting it, but I leave feeling very confused myself: what is going on in their heads? Given that 80% of them are hooked up constantly to their electronics [why do teachers permit iPods all day? iPods that morph into iPhones and cell phones and electronics of any sort], my guess is that they aren't really there.
Which Is Worth More? and/or Multi-Potentiality
On Thursday, I was subbing at a high school not too far from where I live and after the class was done with the lesson, I got to talking with the students. The subject of after school jobs came up and how much money the students had to spend on various things. One girl said that she made a bit over $11.00 an hour at her job, which was a fairly easy one, according to her. Most of the time she just got to sit and play games on her phone, while occasionally helping customers.
Of course, then I got to thinking: How much do I get paid an hour? The subbing jobs vary in length, even the ones that are supposedly for a "full day". I get paid either for a full day or a half day. Full days, depending on the school district pay $90.00, $94.50, or $95.00. The job that day was for 7.5 hours, with 30 minutes for lunch. So, 7.0 hours @ $94.50 per day. So I get $13.50 per hour. After 4 years of undergraduate education, two master's degrees, and virtually all of a Ph.D., except the final signature, I am making barely more than a high school kid. And, by no stretch of the imagination would I characterize subbing as "easy".
Why don't I get a "real" job? Part of it has to do with multi-potentiality. I am good at a lot of things. I am especially good at learning stuff, so I kept wanting to go back to schools to learn more. And, as I did, I also tried out jobs that followed from the things I studied in schools. But each time, the thing that fascinated me was the learning process itself. So each time, in some way, I returned to teaching. I have taught everything from pre-school through grad school, from beginning swimming through computer modelling of proteins. But now, I am virtually unemployable. I am too old, I have too many degrees, my experiences are all different from what would be expected of someone who is looking for the positions I seek, and I don't exactly have a dedicated career path.
I enjoy subbing, actually. It is terribly hard some days, boring some days, but I like the variety and the challenge. But most of all, I enjoy analyzing all of the parameters of the job. How does this school compare to that school? What difference does socio-economics make? What about the linguistic background of the students? Why are the teachers friendly at one school and completely stand-offish at another school? Which curricula do I like? Which seem to work better for the students?
Years ago, my own children complained that I "had to analyze everything". I guess, yes, they are right. And subbing gives me a chance to analyze a lot of things. I just wish I made more money than a clerk in a pet store.
Of course, then I got to thinking: How much do I get paid an hour? The subbing jobs vary in length, even the ones that are supposedly for a "full day". I get paid either for a full day or a half day. Full days, depending on the school district pay $90.00, $94.50, or $95.00. The job that day was for 7.5 hours, with 30 minutes for lunch. So, 7.0 hours @ $94.50 per day. So I get $13.50 per hour. After 4 years of undergraduate education, two master's degrees, and virtually all of a Ph.D., except the final signature, I am making barely more than a high school kid. And, by no stretch of the imagination would I characterize subbing as "easy".
Why don't I get a "real" job? Part of it has to do with multi-potentiality. I am good at a lot of things. I am especially good at learning stuff, so I kept wanting to go back to schools to learn more. And, as I did, I also tried out jobs that followed from the things I studied in schools. But each time, the thing that fascinated me was the learning process itself. So each time, in some way, I returned to teaching. I have taught everything from pre-school through grad school, from beginning swimming through computer modelling of proteins. But now, I am virtually unemployable. I am too old, I have too many degrees, my experiences are all different from what would be expected of someone who is looking for the positions I seek, and I don't exactly have a dedicated career path.
I enjoy subbing, actually. It is terribly hard some days, boring some days, but I like the variety and the challenge. But most of all, I enjoy analyzing all of the parameters of the job. How does this school compare to that school? What difference does socio-economics make? What about the linguistic background of the students? Why are the teachers friendly at one school and completely stand-offish at another school? Which curricula do I like? Which seem to work better for the students?
Years ago, my own children complained that I "had to analyze everything". I guess, yes, they are right. And subbing gives me a chance to analyze a lot of things. I just wish I made more money than a clerk in a pet store.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
The Great Raccoon Saga
A couple of days ago, my neighbor, whose house is connected to ours came over and told me that he thought there were squirrels in our attic. He pointed to a small hole in the siding and to a pile of insulation that he had swept up on his porch. He said that they had some bait for squirrels that made them kind of crazy and would make them leave; then he would board up the hole for me.
When I got home that evening, the hole was boarded up, but that night, I still heard scratching, as if the squirrels were still inside. I then started worrying that the squirrel(s) were trapped in the attic and would die of starvation. But then, a couple of mornings later, I noticed that the cats were really skittish. I went downstairs and found that all of the metal covers on the heater vents had been pulled up (4 different heater vents), my office area was ransacked, and the kitchen was messed up. The cat food was all gone.
I figured a burglar wouldn't bother with heater vents, but I couldn't figure out how (or why) a squirrel would pry up heater vents. So I looked around and spotted a bushy tail behind one of the chairs in the living room. I thought it might be Hobbes, my Maine Coon, until I noticed that Hobbes was right next to me. Hobbes is really big, but this raccoon was even bigger.
After panicking a bit, I tried calling Animal Control, and they said they would come right out, until they found out that the raccoon was INSIDE the house - they evidently don't deal with animals inside the house. So I called a company called Critter Control, but they wanted $199 just to come to the house.
That seemed like too much to me, so I took the car out of the garage, and coaxed Calvin (my other cat) downstairs and put both cats in the garage. I left one door open and put a trail of cat food leading to the door. Then I went to school (my one day a week job).
When I got home, my neighbor was outside, so I told him that he had been wrong - it wasn't squirrels, it was a big raccoon. He came in and we tried to find the raccoon. It was hiding under the bed in the south bedroom. He stuck a broom under the bed and managed to scare the raccoon out, and it ran downstairs. It avoided all of the open doors, however, and instead headed for the kitchen. When we tried to herd it toward a door, it slipped by us and ran back upstairs. This time, after we found it (in the middle bedroom), we closed all of the other doors and herded it downstairs, but again it avoided all of the open doors and hid in the bathroom.
I blockaded the way upstairs, but again, it squeezed by and ran upstairs. This time, though, there was no place to hide, so when we chased it downstairs again, it hid behind the chair again. Finally, with nowhere else to go, it went out the open door, climbed over the fence, and left.
The only problem is that I don't know if it was male or female. If it was a female, there could be babies in the attic. So we went to look to see if we could get up in the attic. But my neighbor had to leave, so I still haven't gotten up in the attic to check. But, next to the attic access is an air conditioning air return vent, with several bent metal slats. I am guessing that that is how the raccoon got out of the attic.
And now, the thing that amazes me is that I managed to sleep through all of this destruction the night before.
When I got home that evening, the hole was boarded up, but that night, I still heard scratching, as if the squirrels were still inside. I then started worrying that the squirrel(s) were trapped in the attic and would die of starvation. But then, a couple of mornings later, I noticed that the cats were really skittish. I went downstairs and found that all of the metal covers on the heater vents had been pulled up (4 different heater vents), my office area was ransacked, and the kitchen was messed up. The cat food was all gone.
I figured a burglar wouldn't bother with heater vents, but I couldn't figure out how (or why) a squirrel would pry up heater vents. So I looked around and spotted a bushy tail behind one of the chairs in the living room. I thought it might be Hobbes, my Maine Coon, until I noticed that Hobbes was right next to me. Hobbes is really big, but this raccoon was even bigger.
After panicking a bit, I tried calling Animal Control, and they said they would come right out, until they found out that the raccoon was INSIDE the house - they evidently don't deal with animals inside the house. So I called a company called Critter Control, but they wanted $199 just to come to the house.
That seemed like too much to me, so I took the car out of the garage, and coaxed Calvin (my other cat) downstairs and put both cats in the garage. I left one door open and put a trail of cat food leading to the door. Then I went to school (my one day a week job).
When I got home, my neighbor was outside, so I told him that he had been wrong - it wasn't squirrels, it was a big raccoon. He came in and we tried to find the raccoon. It was hiding under the bed in the south bedroom. He stuck a broom under the bed and managed to scare the raccoon out, and it ran downstairs. It avoided all of the open doors, however, and instead headed for the kitchen. When we tried to herd it toward a door, it slipped by us and ran back upstairs. This time, after we found it (in the middle bedroom), we closed all of the other doors and herded it downstairs, but again it avoided all of the open doors and hid in the bathroom.
I blockaded the way upstairs, but again, it squeezed by and ran upstairs. This time, though, there was no place to hide, so when we chased it downstairs again, it hid behind the chair again. Finally, with nowhere else to go, it went out the open door, climbed over the fence, and left.
The only problem is that I don't know if it was male or female. If it was a female, there could be babies in the attic. So we went to look to see if we could get up in the attic. But my neighbor had to leave, so I still haven't gotten up in the attic to check. But, next to the attic access is an air conditioning air return vent, with several bent metal slats. I am guessing that that is how the raccoon got out of the attic.
And now, the thing that amazes me is that I managed to sleep through all of this destruction the night before.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
Unclear on the Concept
I was subbing in a 6th grade recently and the warm-up question for the math lesson (directly from the teacher's manual) was something like this: A certain state has chosen to use the following format for their license plates: a single letter, followed by 5 digits. How many different license plates could they make that start with the letter A? The students were supposed to write their answers on their individual white boards and then show them to me to verify their answers.
The first answer I got was 28. I was completely baffled. Then came the other answers 15, 59, 25, etc., etc. NONE of the answers was even above 100, let alone near the correct answer. When I told the class (of 29 students) that their answers were all way too low, they started guessing above 100. But their guesses were completely (to me) random.
I decided to give them a hint: if they could use only 1 number after the A, you would have license plates A0, A1, A2, A3, ..., A9 - for 10 license plates. With two digits, you would have A00, A01, A02, ... A99 - giving you 100 license plates. They still didn't get it.
Pedagogically, I was so baffled by their lack of understanding, that I missed a golden opportunity to ask them what their reasoning was. I wish I had asked. "My bad", as they say. But now I am left wondering how they could possibly have thought that 28, 15, 59, or 25 could be anywhere near reasonable. This was a charter school, where the kids had to be delivered to the building in cars by their parents every day and picked up at the close of the day. How could they possibly think that 28 license plates starting with A, 28 starting with B, etc., would be enough? There are nearly that many cars at that one school in one day.
I was left thinking that the thinking habits of those kids were pretty bad.
Then came the lesson. It was on the number of degrees in specific turns. Though this wasn't in the teacher's manual, I had them stand up and demonstrate turning clockwise and counterclockwise. That isn't nearly as intuitive was it was in the days of all analog clocks. Our digital kids nowadays don't seem to have quite as much familiarity with the rotation of the hands on clocks. So I had them practice. First we established that a full turn, either CW or CCW was 360 degrees. Then that a quarter turn was 90 degrees and a half turn 180.
As I expected, a lot of the students mixed up CW and CCW, until we had practiced quite a bit. What surprised me a little was that several students refused to participate at all. This is a fairly strict and structured charter school and the non-compliance was unexpected. I didn't make a big deal of it, however, since it was an unplanned part of the lesson. I was more interested in the fact that this was actually a fairly difficult exercise for 6th graders.
That was just about the whole lesson - that and a few word problems. I was not terribly impressed with the curriculum, but this is a curriculum that I am not terribly fond of, anyway, so I am not going to name it. I was more interested in the seeming lack of comprehension of the students. They could do the rote problems, but the applications seemed to baffle them.
I would love to blame it on the curriculum, but I am not so sure that that is the problem. I have seen similar things with other curricula. What seems to me to be more evident is that kids are not particularly interested in making sense of things. They are willing to learn the arithmetic procedures - essentially just memorizing "how to do the problems", but they have very little (no?) interest in understanding why things work as they do. How have we gotten such disinterested kids? Was it always this way?
I remember hundreds of years ago, when I was a child, that I wasn't particularly interested in math. I could do the problems reasonably well, but the mathematics behind the arithmetic wasn't compelling to me. I don't remember if it was taught. I just remember that I was good at math, but, to me, that meant that I was good at arithmetic.
Then came my own 6th grade. The math teacher taught us about number bases - the reason behind carrying and borrowing when you get to the number of the base. It was, for me, a whole new ball game. Math became much more interesting. But that kind of enlightenment was sporadic. I remember asking several times in calculus classes how calculus was used, but I usually got either completely useless answers (It is used in everything!) or vague answers (In physics it is used to derive the laws of motion).
So now, I am wondering: it is counterproductive to try to explain mathematical reasoning to young children? Perhaps they just need to learn to do arithmetic very well. Then, in middle school or high school, with a bit more mature brains, they should take a class called number theory - and learn the reasoning behind the algorithms.
It is scary, though, to think that kids have so little practical understanding of math that they can't see the unreasonableness of the answer 28 for the number of license plates starting with A and having 5 numbers following the A.
The first answer I got was 28. I was completely baffled. Then came the other answers 15, 59, 25, etc., etc. NONE of the answers was even above 100, let alone near the correct answer. When I told the class (of 29 students) that their answers were all way too low, they started guessing above 100. But their guesses were completely (to me) random.
I decided to give them a hint: if they could use only 1 number after the A, you would have license plates A0, A1, A2, A3, ..., A9 - for 10 license plates. With two digits, you would have A00, A01, A02, ... A99 - giving you 100 license plates. They still didn't get it.
Pedagogically, I was so baffled by their lack of understanding, that I missed a golden opportunity to ask them what their reasoning was. I wish I had asked. "My bad", as they say. But now I am left wondering how they could possibly have thought that 28, 15, 59, or 25 could be anywhere near reasonable. This was a charter school, where the kids had to be delivered to the building in cars by their parents every day and picked up at the close of the day. How could they possibly think that 28 license plates starting with A, 28 starting with B, etc., would be enough? There are nearly that many cars at that one school in one day.
I was left thinking that the thinking habits of those kids were pretty bad.
Then came the lesson. It was on the number of degrees in specific turns. Though this wasn't in the teacher's manual, I had them stand up and demonstrate turning clockwise and counterclockwise. That isn't nearly as intuitive was it was in the days of all analog clocks. Our digital kids nowadays don't seem to have quite as much familiarity with the rotation of the hands on clocks. So I had them practice. First we established that a full turn, either CW or CCW was 360 degrees. Then that a quarter turn was 90 degrees and a half turn 180.
As I expected, a lot of the students mixed up CW and CCW, until we had practiced quite a bit. What surprised me a little was that several students refused to participate at all. This is a fairly strict and structured charter school and the non-compliance was unexpected. I didn't make a big deal of it, however, since it was an unplanned part of the lesson. I was more interested in the fact that this was actually a fairly difficult exercise for 6th graders.
That was just about the whole lesson - that and a few word problems. I was not terribly impressed with the curriculum, but this is a curriculum that I am not terribly fond of, anyway, so I am not going to name it. I was more interested in the seeming lack of comprehension of the students. They could do the rote problems, but the applications seemed to baffle them.
I would love to blame it on the curriculum, but I am not so sure that that is the problem. I have seen similar things with other curricula. What seems to me to be more evident is that kids are not particularly interested in making sense of things. They are willing to learn the arithmetic procedures - essentially just memorizing "how to do the problems", but they have very little (no?) interest in understanding why things work as they do. How have we gotten such disinterested kids? Was it always this way?
I remember hundreds of years ago, when I was a child, that I wasn't particularly interested in math. I could do the problems reasonably well, but the mathematics behind the arithmetic wasn't compelling to me. I don't remember if it was taught. I just remember that I was good at math, but, to me, that meant that I was good at arithmetic.
Then came my own 6th grade. The math teacher taught us about number bases - the reason behind carrying and borrowing when you get to the number of the base. It was, for me, a whole new ball game. Math became much more interesting. But that kind of enlightenment was sporadic. I remember asking several times in calculus classes how calculus was used, but I usually got either completely useless answers (It is used in everything!) or vague answers (In physics it is used to derive the laws of motion).
So now, I am wondering: it is counterproductive to try to explain mathematical reasoning to young children? Perhaps they just need to learn to do arithmetic very well. Then, in middle school or high school, with a bit more mature brains, they should take a class called number theory - and learn the reasoning behind the algorithms.
It is scary, though, to think that kids have so little practical understanding of math that they can't see the unreasonableness of the answer 28 for the number of license plates starting with A and having 5 numbers following the A.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Why Can't They Keep Their Mouths Shut???
Another general complaint.
I sub in 3 school districts, in grades 3 through 12. I prefer 4th through 6th grades, but I will sub for middle school and high school math and technology. Lately I have wondered over and over again why it is that kids feel they have to talk all of the time. You get the class quiet, so you can take attendance or give them instructions for the activity that their teacher planned and before the first three names are called or the first sentence you utter is completed, at least 3 students are already talking again. You can do this over and over again and it doesn't improve - get them quiet, start talking yourself, discover that at least 3 kids are talking again. Even when the kids are actively engaged in a lesson (or maybe especially then), they seem to be constantly talking. Not all of the kids do this, of course, but there are many who do.
Some rude classes do this purposely - trying to annoy the sub, flaunting the power of numbers. Some excitable kids do it almost as though they are unaware of the effect it has on others. Some very social kids do it, because they are much more interested in the other students than they are in learning any subject matter. Even when there are really interesting lessons planned, with lots of student interaction and chance to talk once they get started, it is hard to get the lesson started, because there are too many students who are talking.
So the question is, WHY? Is there something going on with kids now that makes silence, even for a short time, uncomfortable? Is there some need to fill any amount of quiet as if it were a vacuum? Is the source of the problem their own brains - constantly needing stimulation, constantly in motion? What has become of reflection? Has it changed into thinking out loud?
I realize that lectures are out of fashion now in classes below college level, but I don't think anyone COULD lecture classes nowadays. They just can't keep quiet long enough to actually HEAR the lecture.
Even movies, which once used to be a sure fire way to keep kids engaged and quiet, don't work that way any more. Kids will talk throughout an entire movie if allowed (and will whisper if talking out loud is frowned upon).
And, interestingly, even if kids are actively working on INDIVIDUAL projects on the computer, even if they are at entirely DIFFERENT stages of the projects, and even if the projects are completely unrelated, they still will talk almost continuously to their neighbors.
Does anyone have a good explanation for this???
I sub in 3 school districts, in grades 3 through 12. I prefer 4th through 6th grades, but I will sub for middle school and high school math and technology. Lately I have wondered over and over again why it is that kids feel they have to talk all of the time. You get the class quiet, so you can take attendance or give them instructions for the activity that their teacher planned and before the first three names are called or the first sentence you utter is completed, at least 3 students are already talking again. You can do this over and over again and it doesn't improve - get them quiet, start talking yourself, discover that at least 3 kids are talking again. Even when the kids are actively engaged in a lesson (or maybe especially then), they seem to be constantly talking. Not all of the kids do this, of course, but there are many who do.
Some rude classes do this purposely - trying to annoy the sub, flaunting the power of numbers. Some excitable kids do it almost as though they are unaware of the effect it has on others. Some very social kids do it, because they are much more interested in the other students than they are in learning any subject matter. Even when there are really interesting lessons planned, with lots of student interaction and chance to talk once they get started, it is hard to get the lesson started, because there are too many students who are talking.
So the question is, WHY? Is there something going on with kids now that makes silence, even for a short time, uncomfortable? Is there some need to fill any amount of quiet as if it were a vacuum? Is the source of the problem their own brains - constantly needing stimulation, constantly in motion? What has become of reflection? Has it changed into thinking out loud?
I realize that lectures are out of fashion now in classes below college level, but I don't think anyone COULD lecture classes nowadays. They just can't keep quiet long enough to actually HEAR the lecture.
Even movies, which once used to be a sure fire way to keep kids engaged and quiet, don't work that way any more. Kids will talk throughout an entire movie if allowed (and will whisper if talking out loud is frowned upon).
And, interestingly, even if kids are actively working on INDIVIDUAL projects on the computer, even if they are at entirely DIFFERENT stages of the projects, and even if the projects are completely unrelated, they still will talk almost continuously to their neighbors.
Does anyone have a good explanation for this???
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Even I Get Tired of My Complaints
I was subbing the other day in a technology class and, since the regular teacher hadn't sent in lesson plans, his friend, the librarian, was explaining what the kids were supposed to do. That much is fine, but why did I detect a note of "this is probably too hard for you to understand or do much about" in his explanation? True, I am older and probably don't look all that technology literate, but why is that an assumption? I actually have a master's degree in computer science. True, it is a bit outdated, but I have learned things in the meantime. And the teachers who stopped by to pick up printouts also seemed to have that look on their faces, that "Gee, I am surprised YOU are in this job" look.
When I sub for teachers who are actually there and who explain the day to me, I also sometimes get that look. And, even sometimes from other teachers who stop by to help. Don't get me wrong, I am VERY HAPPY when the teachers nearby offer to help (or even just introduce themselves and make me feel welcome), but I am often surprised what they offer to help with. The things that I often need are class lists (why, oh why, do elementary teachers usually forget to leave a spare class list and, if they switch classes for a certain subject, a class list for the other class as well), schedules, a map of the school, directions on where to pick up the kids after they go to lunch and recess, where the copier is in case I have to make emergency copies. Instead, what I often get is questions about whether I can handle the curriculum for the day. That isn't, by the way, usually the hardest part of the day.
Which brings me to another question: why do teachers often give busywork (a puzzle worksheet, a movie with note-taking) to a sub? The students recognize that it isn't part of what they would normally be doing. It is actually harder to get them to do work that is "easier". They recognize that it isn't important and that the regular teacher will probably just throw out any papers they do while the sub is there. What regular teachers would consider an "easy day" has frequently actually been harder for me. The only conclusion I can come to is that the regular teachers don't have much confidence in the abilities of subs. Perhaps this is justified. But in many cases it is not. I have talked to a lot of subs over the course of my years subbing and many are retired teachers, others are people new to the area, trying to get a foothold in the school district. They usually take only jobs for which they are qualified.
Perhaps the reason the regular teachers are less confident in subs is that subs DO mess up at times. Part of the problem is dealing with normal classroom routines, which the teachers often don't explain - How are requests to go to the bathroom handled? Are kids allowed to go to the library during independent reading? What do you do when the kids don't have any pencils? How do you switch the overhead projector from the document camera to the laptop?
There are lots of things that the teachers assume the subs will know or that the kids will tell them. But often the kids will tell the subs the wrong things - yes, we are allowed to wear hats in class; yes, we can chew gum; the teacher always lets us do X... And, in a few classes, where bossy kids have been designated as "helpers", I have gotten so annoyed at the "help" that I had to ask the student to stop helping me - you have to push this button to get the overhead to work; no, it must be this button; well, maybe this has to be unplugged and plugged in over here; no, maybe that was OK, but this needs to be turned on (and by that time, the whole set up is hopelessly messed up). There are times when I just want to say, "I CAN read the teacher's directions by myself." But, of course, there are also times when the teacher assumes that all subs can work their particular kinds of equipment. Guess what, subs are never trained on using the equipment - and different kinds of equipment are set up differently, are activated differently, and fail differently.
Yes, the curriculum is usually the least of my worries. But I think that probably, for the regular teachers, it is the MOST of THEIR worries, so they assume that it will be the biggest worry for the sub as well. Regular teachers are used to their equipment, their routines, their school procedures, and they don't have to be aware of them - they just ARE. Delivering the curriculum is their focus.
That, and the behavior of the students. I usually DO get warnings about the problem students.
When I sub for teachers who are actually there and who explain the day to me, I also sometimes get that look. And, even sometimes from other teachers who stop by to help. Don't get me wrong, I am VERY HAPPY when the teachers nearby offer to help (or even just introduce themselves and make me feel welcome), but I am often surprised what they offer to help with. The things that I often need are class lists (why, oh why, do elementary teachers usually forget to leave a spare class list and, if they switch classes for a certain subject, a class list for the other class as well), schedules, a map of the school, directions on where to pick up the kids after they go to lunch and recess, where the copier is in case I have to make emergency copies. Instead, what I often get is questions about whether I can handle the curriculum for the day. That isn't, by the way, usually the hardest part of the day.
Which brings me to another question: why do teachers often give busywork (a puzzle worksheet, a movie with note-taking) to a sub? The students recognize that it isn't part of what they would normally be doing. It is actually harder to get them to do work that is "easier". They recognize that it isn't important and that the regular teacher will probably just throw out any papers they do while the sub is there. What regular teachers would consider an "easy day" has frequently actually been harder for me. The only conclusion I can come to is that the regular teachers don't have much confidence in the abilities of subs. Perhaps this is justified. But in many cases it is not. I have talked to a lot of subs over the course of my years subbing and many are retired teachers, others are people new to the area, trying to get a foothold in the school district. They usually take only jobs for which they are qualified.
Perhaps the reason the regular teachers are less confident in subs is that subs DO mess up at times. Part of the problem is dealing with normal classroom routines, which the teachers often don't explain - How are requests to go to the bathroom handled? Are kids allowed to go to the library during independent reading? What do you do when the kids don't have any pencils? How do you switch the overhead projector from the document camera to the laptop?
There are lots of things that the teachers assume the subs will know or that the kids will tell them. But often the kids will tell the subs the wrong things - yes, we are allowed to wear hats in class; yes, we can chew gum; the teacher always lets us do X... And, in a few classes, where bossy kids have been designated as "helpers", I have gotten so annoyed at the "help" that I had to ask the student to stop helping me - you have to push this button to get the overhead to work; no, it must be this button; well, maybe this has to be unplugged and plugged in over here; no, maybe that was OK, but this needs to be turned on (and by that time, the whole set up is hopelessly messed up). There are times when I just want to say, "I CAN read the teacher's directions by myself." But, of course, there are also times when the teacher assumes that all subs can work their particular kinds of equipment. Guess what, subs are never trained on using the equipment - and different kinds of equipment are set up differently, are activated differently, and fail differently.
Yes, the curriculum is usually the least of my worries. But I think that probably, for the regular teachers, it is the MOST of THEIR worries, so they assume that it will be the biggest worry for the sub as well. Regular teachers are used to their equipment, their routines, their school procedures, and they don't have to be aware of them - they just ARE. Delivering the curriculum is their focus.
That, and the behavior of the students. I usually DO get warnings about the problem students.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Another Class Size Rant
The other day I took a subbing job for math in a middle school. I taught 6 classes that day: 4 classes of 7th graders and 2 classes of 8th graders. The lesson for the 7th graders was particularly interesting. It consisted of two rather complicated word problems that the students had to figure out. But even more interesting than the actual assignment was the difference that class size made. 3 of the classes were normal size and one was exceptionally small, approximately 25 to 28 students vs. 9. I have no idea why this was so. The students didn't actually seem much different individually from the students in the other classes - that is, they didn't seem to have any special characteristics that were notable. They weren't exceptionally brilliant; they didn't seem to have any disabilities. Perhaps it was just a fluke of scheduling.
At any rate, I can't complain about the classes (well, maybe the 8th graders, but everyone complains about 8th graders). They all worked well on the assignment. The difference was the tenor of the classes. The small class just seemed to be much more personal. How much more fun it would be to always have classes of 9 to 15 students! Too bad it can't always be so.
At any rate, I can't complain about the classes (well, maybe the 8th graders, but everyone complains about 8th graders). They all worked well on the assignment. The difference was the tenor of the classes. The small class just seemed to be much more personal. How much more fun it would be to always have classes of 9 to 15 students! Too bad it can't always be so.
Campaign against PDR - Public Displays of Religion
I am not religious. I have a core set of beliefs, mostly having to do with moral and ethical behavior. I also believe in the power of science and logic.
Given that, I must admit, I am increasingly uncomfortable with PDR - public displays of religion. I dislike the "in my face" aspect of it. My feelings about this are very much akin to my feelings about PDA - public displays of affection. I enjoy my own private displays of affection. I am comfortable with other people's private expressions of religious beliefs. But I am increasingly annoyed at people's public expressions of religion. Why do people insist on inflicting their religious experiences on the general public?
Given that, I must admit, I am increasingly uncomfortable with PDR - public displays of religion. I dislike the "in my face" aspect of it. My feelings about this are very much akin to my feelings about PDA - public displays of affection. I enjoy my own private displays of affection. I am comfortable with other people's private expressions of religious beliefs. But I am increasingly annoyed at people's public expressions of religion. Why do people insist on inflicting their religious experiences on the general public?
Source of Anxiety
It occurs to me that one source of anxiety for me lately is the overwhelming number of things that I am interested in. With the constant availability of the Internet, with the huge availability of the library, though inter-library loans, with the face to face Meet-Ups on a seemingly endless variety of interests, with all the Facebook friends and interest pages, with the magazines and newspapers that I get, with the long list of emails that I need or want to read, I am simply overwhelmed with stuff. If I were like my husband and narrowly focused on only a few areas of interest, even then I would be inundated with information. But I consider myself to be a generalist. It is one of the reasons why I have stuck with teaching. It allows me to be interested in a wide variety of things.
But recently, I have become more and more aware that it also causes me anxiety. I just can't keep up with the constant barrage of things that I want to read and the things I want to do. I actually have more time now than I have had in earlier years of my life - I am not working on a university degree, the kids are grown, I am not working full time. But that also means that I can develop new interests as well - I have started going to Meet-Ups for playing board games and for speaking German. Last summer, I started making jewelry. This past fall I started writing songs. Since I moved here I have been trying to attend regularly the World Affairs Discussion Group at our local branch library, where I am confronted continually with my lack of knowledge about history, economics, and international policy. And I want to remedy that lack of knowledge.
Perhaps this acknowledgement can explain some of the reasons that students know so little about the world these days. There is simply too much to know; too much to be interested in; too much to do. It is much easier to just focus on the easy things - the latest video game; the antics of pop stars; the latest songs. These things are straight-forward and do not require complicated understanding. Let someone else know the complicated stuff; there is too much for me to know - and by the time I learn about it, it will have changed, anyway.
I suppose other people have come to this realization already - so, again, I am confronted with the question of why should I care? Maybe I should just relax and give up even pretending to be a generalist - but which of my interests should I give up?
But recently, I have become more and more aware that it also causes me anxiety. I just can't keep up with the constant barrage of things that I want to read and the things I want to do. I actually have more time now than I have had in earlier years of my life - I am not working on a university degree, the kids are grown, I am not working full time. But that also means that I can develop new interests as well - I have started going to Meet-Ups for playing board games and for speaking German. Last summer, I started making jewelry. This past fall I started writing songs. Since I moved here I have been trying to attend regularly the World Affairs Discussion Group at our local branch library, where I am confronted continually with my lack of knowledge about history, economics, and international policy. And I want to remedy that lack of knowledge.
Perhaps this acknowledgement can explain some of the reasons that students know so little about the world these days. There is simply too much to know; too much to be interested in; too much to do. It is much easier to just focus on the easy things - the latest video game; the antics of pop stars; the latest songs. These things are straight-forward and do not require complicated understanding. Let someone else know the complicated stuff; there is too much for me to know - and by the time I learn about it, it will have changed, anyway.
I suppose other people have come to this realization already - so, again, I am confronted with the question of why should I care? Maybe I should just relax and give up even pretending to be a generalist - but which of my interests should I give up?
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Bored, or Not
It occurs to me that when I was in grade school, I don't think I complained about being bored. That isn't to say that I wasn't bored. I remember counting the dots on the ceiling insulation and trying to figure out how many there would be in the whole room. But I didn't COMPLAIN about it. I was the quintessential good girl. I did what I was told, did it well, and didn't question the decisions of the adults in my life. If my mother told me I was interested in dancing, I never even questioned her decision about taking dancing lessons. If my teachers told me I was good at math, I did well at math.
At my age now, I can't understand why I was so passive about things. Why didn't I learn to be more assertive? Is it a character flaw in me or is it learned behavior? In a way, I am annoyed that someone didn't at least try to make me more assertive. Even now, I struggle with accommodation. I want the people in my life to be happy and I try hard to mold my behavior so that they are. I suppose I should think of that as a positive trait, but I often feel that I have lost myself in the process.
At my age now, I can't understand why I was so passive about things. Why didn't I learn to be more assertive? Is it a character flaw in me or is it learned behavior? In a way, I am annoyed that someone didn't at least try to make me more assertive. Even now, I struggle with accommodation. I want the people in my life to be happy and I try hard to mold my behavior so that they are. I suppose I should think of that as a positive trait, but I often feel that I have lost myself in the process.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Logic of Different Abilities
Here is why NCLB and its variations are utterly illogical. Given: people learn at different rates. Some people learn fast, some people learn slowly. Sure, the rates are uneven, but if you average them out over time, they will spread out over presumably a bell shaped curve. Result: If you are teaching each child to 80 or 90% of his or her ability, the curve SHOULD spread out as a cohort of children gets older.
To be more concrete: Let's suppose that one child can learn 100 concepts in a year and another could learn 110 concepts in a year. At the end of one year the difference between the two will be 10 learned concepts. At the end of two years, the children will have mastered 200 and 220 concepts, respectively, bringing the gap to 20 concepts. Each year the gap SHOULD grow. Even if the lower performing student is working to the MAXIMUM of his/her ability, he/she will fall behind. The only way this can be prevented is by holding down the top student.
In reality, the gap could potentially be much wider. I seem to remember reading that average kids learn concepts after approximately seven repetitions. Slower kids need more repetitions; faster kids can learn something with as few as 1 to 3 exposures to the concept. Thus, some students could learn as much as 10 times as much as some other students.
Look at this the other way around: Parents: are your special needs children falling further and further behind each year? Well, that means that the other teachers are doing their job. Your children aren't failures; some may be succeeding incredibly. Some of them may even outgrow their disabilities; others may not. But, even if their disabilities persist, they still shouldn't be deemed failures - nor should their teachers. Board of Education people: if the gap between your lowest students and your highest students isn't getting BIGGER each year, then you are holding your top students back (or the test can't measure adequately the top students' progress).
Yes, we should try to remedy any disabilities that can be remedied. But you need a different yardstick to measure progress with different disabilities. Some disabilities are permanent or semi-permanent and the best teachers in the world could not bring these students up to grade level proficiency. Some disabilities are not permanent and can be remedied, compensated for, or even simply outgrown.
But we also shouldn't deceive ourselves into thinking that just because the achievement gap is shrinking, we are doing a good job. It means that we are neglecting those students who should be moving faster.
If someone can point out the problems with this diatribe, I would appreciate it. Perhaps I am missing something.
To be more concrete: Let's suppose that one child can learn 100 concepts in a year and another could learn 110 concepts in a year. At the end of one year the difference between the two will be 10 learned concepts. At the end of two years, the children will have mastered 200 and 220 concepts, respectively, bringing the gap to 20 concepts. Each year the gap SHOULD grow. Even if the lower performing student is working to the MAXIMUM of his/her ability, he/she will fall behind. The only way this can be prevented is by holding down the top student.
In reality, the gap could potentially be much wider. I seem to remember reading that average kids learn concepts after approximately seven repetitions. Slower kids need more repetitions; faster kids can learn something with as few as 1 to 3 exposures to the concept. Thus, some students could learn as much as 10 times as much as some other students.
Look at this the other way around: Parents: are your special needs children falling further and further behind each year? Well, that means that the other teachers are doing their job. Your children aren't failures; some may be succeeding incredibly. Some of them may even outgrow their disabilities; others may not. But, even if their disabilities persist, they still shouldn't be deemed failures - nor should their teachers. Board of Education people: if the gap between your lowest students and your highest students isn't getting BIGGER each year, then you are holding your top students back (or the test can't measure adequately the top students' progress).
Yes, we should try to remedy any disabilities that can be remedied. But you need a different yardstick to measure progress with different disabilities. Some disabilities are permanent or semi-permanent and the best teachers in the world could not bring these students up to grade level proficiency. Some disabilities are not permanent and can be remedied, compensated for, or even simply outgrown.
But we also shouldn't deceive ourselves into thinking that just because the achievement gap is shrinking, we are doing a good job. It means that we are neglecting those students who should be moving faster.
If someone can point out the problems with this diatribe, I would appreciate it. Perhaps I am missing something.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Reframing Your Greatest Worries as Gifts
This is taken from Ken Page's blog in Psychology Today:
(http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/finding-love/201109/how-your-greatest-insecurities-reveal-your-deepest-gifts)
"Are there essential qualities in you which have sometimes felt more like a curse than a gift? Perhaps you haven't known how to handle them, or maybe you've had the painful experience of other people misunderstanding or taking advantage of them. Take a minute to begin to put words on these qualities. As you name them, you'll learn to honor them, and you'll come to understand your struggles, your intimacy journey and your life story in a new way."
Qualities that I sometimes feel are a curse, rather than a gift: my accommodation of others wishes - I sometimes feel that I am so sensitive to the wishes of others that I almost unconsciously shape my own wishes according to what they want, rather than stick up for my own desires. I value the sensitivity, but there are times when I wish I could turn off others' wishes and just act on my own.
Another quality - perhaps a penchant instead of a quality - is my need to analyze everything. Other people see this as annoying, but I am constantly surprised that, in spite of this penchant, I still miss such obvious things. This leads me to want to do even more of it.
(http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/finding-love/201109/how-your-greatest-insecurities-reveal-your-deepest-gifts)
"Are there essential qualities in you which have sometimes felt more like a curse than a gift? Perhaps you haven't known how to handle them, or maybe you've had the painful experience of other people misunderstanding or taking advantage of them. Take a minute to begin to put words on these qualities. As you name them, you'll learn to honor them, and you'll come to understand your struggles, your intimacy journey and your life story in a new way."
Qualities that I sometimes feel are a curse, rather than a gift: my accommodation of others wishes - I sometimes feel that I am so sensitive to the wishes of others that I almost unconsciously shape my own wishes according to what they want, rather than stick up for my own desires. I value the sensitivity, but there are times when I wish I could turn off others' wishes and just act on my own.
Another quality - perhaps a penchant instead of a quality - is my need to analyze everything. Other people see this as annoying, but I am constantly surprised that, in spite of this penchant, I still miss such obvious things. This leads me to want to do even more of it.
Day 2 - Positive changes
1) Three new things I am grateful for: I am grateful for the excellent discussion I was a part of at the library today - and grateful that I didn't say something stupid for once. I am grateful that I am able to turn down subbing jobs that I don't want to do and that I don't have to take them just because I need the money desperately. I am grateful that I found the will power to take a walk today, even though I really don't care for exercise.
2) Journal about a positive experience. The World Affairs discussion group at the library today was one of the best that I have attended. We were talking about the news event that happened in Afghanistan. Someone (presumably American soldiers) was burning garbage and the locals discovered that, among the items in the refuse were some copies of the Koran. This caused the Afghanis to start rioting against the Americans. We explored the culpability of the soldiers and in a larger context the culpability of soldiers in general for unconscionable acts. Which led to a discussion of the Ugly American and cultural insensitivity as well as the In/Out group instinct. Very interesting. I like food for the brain - especially when I don't say things that are too stupid.
3) Exercise. When I got back from lunch with the WADG group, I made myself take a walk. It was a nice day and I walked to the bridge that is fairly near to Platt Middle School and back. I don't really enjoy exercise, but I did do it.
4) Meditation. I still don't know how to meditate, but I did take time to read for quite a while. Maybe that is going to be my form of meditation.
5) Random acts of kindness. I complimented one of my UWA/Facebook friends on her improved ability at a game we play with each other. I used to win all of the games, but she has gradually gotten better, to the point where she wins a fair number of games.
2) Journal about a positive experience. The World Affairs discussion group at the library today was one of the best that I have attended. We were talking about the news event that happened in Afghanistan. Someone (presumably American soldiers) was burning garbage and the locals discovered that, among the items in the refuse were some copies of the Koran. This caused the Afghanis to start rioting against the Americans. We explored the culpability of the soldiers and in a larger context the culpability of soldiers in general for unconscionable acts. Which led to a discussion of the Ugly American and cultural insensitivity as well as the In/Out group instinct. Very interesting. I like food for the brain - especially when I don't say things that are too stupid.
3) Exercise. When I got back from lunch with the WADG group, I made myself take a walk. It was a nice day and I walked to the bridge that is fairly near to Platt Middle School and back. I don't really enjoy exercise, but I did do it.
4) Meditation. I still don't know how to meditate, but I did take time to read for quite a while. Maybe that is going to be my form of meditation.
5) Random acts of kindness. I complimented one of my UWA/Facebook friends on her improved ability at a game we play with each other. I used to win all of the games, but she has gradually gotten better, to the point where she wins a fair number of games.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Evaluating Teachers
Years ago, when I was a new teacher, my principal was supposed to evaluate me. He was supposed to come into my classes a minimum of 20 minutes and two separate times. What actually happened is that he stuck his head in the door to my room once. From this he wrote up my evaluation. It was a run of the mill evaluation, except for two things that I remember very clearly. He wrote that I had demonstrated no interest in furthering my teaching credentials. Since, at the time, I was in the process of getting my Master's degree in Elementary Education at the local, and highly regarded, university, I thought that this was a rather bizarre comment and I politely told him that it wasn't accurate. He refused to change that statement. He wrote also that I never read the journals about teaching that were in the staff room. Since I subscribed to several education journals at home, I didn't feel the need to read them at school. He also refused to change this statement on his written evaluation.
Fast forward to years later. I was again up for evaluation. Again, the criteria were that I was to be evaluated twice in the year for a minimum of 20 minutes. This time, I was supposed to turn in detailed lesson plans ahead of time, discuss them with the principal, then actually teach the lesson, with a detailed follow up with the principal. Only he forgot to tell me when any of this was to take place. Finally, with the evaluation due, he told me one day that he needed to watch me teach a lesson THAT DAY. Since there was no time to do the pre-lesson consultation, I invited him to come watch me teach a class right then. Most of my classes were small groups, as I taught gifted, pull-out classes, but I had two classes with the entire grade level, teaching general social studies. I invited him to watch one of these. I taught what was one of the best lessons I have ever taught. Things just seemed to come together for that lesson. His only comment: I forgot to summarize "what we have learned" at the end. The evaluation was relatively non-committal, with scores in the middle of the range for most things. When asked why the scores were that low, he said that he wanted there to be room for improvement. There was no standard of comparison, nothing to say that that was an awesome lesson.
I have been evaluated in other teaching jobs, but, I must admit, I don't remember those evaluations. Either the results were so average that I promptly forgot them, or they never took place at all and the principals just wrote an evaluation, based on their perceptions of how my classes were going.
Thus, my experiences with teacher evaluations by principals have not been very positive. What should have been a collaborative experience between the teacher and the principal, has not been one, in my experience.
But is the method of using test results any better? What if Congress were judged on the number of bills they have passed?
Fast forward to years later. I was again up for evaluation. Again, the criteria were that I was to be evaluated twice in the year for a minimum of 20 minutes. This time, I was supposed to turn in detailed lesson plans ahead of time, discuss them with the principal, then actually teach the lesson, with a detailed follow up with the principal. Only he forgot to tell me when any of this was to take place. Finally, with the evaluation due, he told me one day that he needed to watch me teach a lesson THAT DAY. Since there was no time to do the pre-lesson consultation, I invited him to come watch me teach a class right then. Most of my classes were small groups, as I taught gifted, pull-out classes, but I had two classes with the entire grade level, teaching general social studies. I invited him to watch one of these. I taught what was one of the best lessons I have ever taught. Things just seemed to come together for that lesson. His only comment: I forgot to summarize "what we have learned" at the end. The evaluation was relatively non-committal, with scores in the middle of the range for most things. When asked why the scores were that low, he said that he wanted there to be room for improvement. There was no standard of comparison, nothing to say that that was an awesome lesson.
I have been evaluated in other teaching jobs, but, I must admit, I don't remember those evaluations. Either the results were so average that I promptly forgot them, or they never took place at all and the principals just wrote an evaluation, based on their perceptions of how my classes were going.
Thus, my experiences with teacher evaluations by principals have not been very positive. What should have been a collaborative experience between the teacher and the principal, has not been one, in my experience.
But is the method of using test results any better? What if Congress were judged on the number of bills they have passed?
Changing My Attitutde
I listened to a TED talk on creating lasting positive changes. The method involved 21 days of doing several things:
1) Make a list of 3 things you are grateful for each day. They have to be three new things each day.
2) Journal about a positive experience
3) Exercise
4) Meditate
5) Perform random (or conscious, whichever you prefer) acts of kindness, such as sending a positive email to someone in your social network.
Now, as a baseline, I think I am generally a pretty optimistic person - except that lately I have been plagued by self-doubt. That happens when you have been under-employed for a long time - and I have been. I am currently substitute teaching up to 4 days a week and I have a regular job on Wednesdays for 7.2 hours at $16 per hour. I think I am a good sub, but it is a tough job, and there is little chance for much positive feedback. Occasionally, I get comments from teachers I have worked for, but it is pretty rare.
The last two full time jobs I had, I had to resign - one due to health reasons and both because the kids were pretty awful at those schools. The full time job prior to that I also resigned, but that was due to the fact that the funding for the gifted program that I ran was cancelled and I didn't want to do any of the other jobs that were offered to me in that district.
So, in spite of the fact that I think I do a good job, I don't have a good job and it does get a bit depressing. Thus, this effort to focus on positive change.
1) 3 things I am grateful for: I am grateful that my mother made it through surgery OK; I am grateful that I could talk about it at my music lesson; I am grateful for a cat peacefully sleeping next to me right now.
2) Positive experience - in a day filled with anxiety, I guess one positive experience was the support I got from the secretary at my dentist's. She offered to fax a document I needed to send and was overall very helpful to me. People can be really great when you reach out to them.
3) Exercise - I swam 48 lengths of the pool. I actually count my laps in base 12, so I really swam 40(12) lengths of the pool.
4) Meditation - I am not sure how to do this. I think it is similar to how I get myself to sleep. I will find out more about meditation tomorrow.
5) Acts of Kindness - ah, well, there's always tomorrow. An act of kindness was given to me, though. A lady at the pool said that my swimming suit was perfect for me. I am too fat, but it is nice that someone said that the suit I wear looked good on me.
1) Make a list of 3 things you are grateful for each day. They have to be three new things each day.
2) Journal about a positive experience
3) Exercise
4) Meditate
5) Perform random (or conscious, whichever you prefer) acts of kindness, such as sending a positive email to someone in your social network.
Now, as a baseline, I think I am generally a pretty optimistic person - except that lately I have been plagued by self-doubt. That happens when you have been under-employed for a long time - and I have been. I am currently substitute teaching up to 4 days a week and I have a regular job on Wednesdays for 7.2 hours at $16 per hour. I think I am a good sub, but it is a tough job, and there is little chance for much positive feedback. Occasionally, I get comments from teachers I have worked for, but it is pretty rare.
The last two full time jobs I had, I had to resign - one due to health reasons and both because the kids were pretty awful at those schools. The full time job prior to that I also resigned, but that was due to the fact that the funding for the gifted program that I ran was cancelled and I didn't want to do any of the other jobs that were offered to me in that district.
So, in spite of the fact that I think I do a good job, I don't have a good job and it does get a bit depressing. Thus, this effort to focus on positive change.
1) 3 things I am grateful for: I am grateful that my mother made it through surgery OK; I am grateful that I could talk about it at my music lesson; I am grateful for a cat peacefully sleeping next to me right now.
2) Positive experience - in a day filled with anxiety, I guess one positive experience was the support I got from the secretary at my dentist's. She offered to fax a document I needed to send and was overall very helpful to me. People can be really great when you reach out to them.
3) Exercise - I swam 48 lengths of the pool. I actually count my laps in base 12, so I really swam 40(12) lengths of the pool.
4) Meditation - I am not sure how to do this. I think it is similar to how I get myself to sleep. I will find out more about meditation tomorrow.
5) Acts of Kindness - ah, well, there's always tomorrow. An act of kindness was given to me, though. A lady at the pool said that my swimming suit was perfect for me. I am too fat, but it is nice that someone said that the suit I wear looked good on me.
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Young AmeriTowne
I was subbing in a fifth grade yesterday and for social studies, they worked on a curriculum called Young AmeriTowne. It is a curriculum written for 5th and 6th grade age students (10 through 12 year olds), that helps teachers teach about business, economics, and free enterprise. I was only there for one lesson - the penultimate lesson before they take a field trip to the bank site, which has been set up to simulate a town, in which their "shops" are set up.
For the lesson I saw, the students in four 5th grade classes were sorted into various shops. The shops in my room dealt with travel, containers, a market, and investments. Students, who had applied to work in those shops had assigned roles, some of which they had applied for with job applications. The project managers ran the meetings for their shops and the accountants prepared the financial information. The students decided on such things as the shop name, the shop logo, advertisements for the radio, newspaper, and television. They applied for a loan to start up their business when they get to AmeriTowne, and the accountant wrote out salary checks, so they would get paid when they get to the site.
So much for the basic design of the project. What impressed me most was what happened when the project managers took over the management of the projects. As a substitute teacher, I knew less about what they were doing than they did, so I basically just wandered around the room, watching and listening to the progress of their meetings. Most of the groups had fairly strong managers, but sometimes other students seemed to be very helpful to the management, too. The accountants, who presumably had been chosen for their mathematical confidence, seemed comfortable in their roles, but occasionally they seemed stronger than the project managers.
The program says that it helps to teach leadership skills, and, if the day I was there is any indication, they are correct. The project managers had a long list of objectives for the session and they seemed to figure out how to get their teams working on them. There were enough jobs and things to do that each person could be involved. There were a few passive students, who seemed uninvolved or disinterested, but in general, I was impressed with the interest and task-oriented behavior. The groups varied in size from four students to six or seven. The group with only four students was very focused and hard-working, but they were the last to finish, because there were fewer students to do the work. The other groups were done sooner.
All in all, I was impressed with the program. I have often thought that schools need to include more economics in their curricula, and this is a good start. I have seen other methods of doing this, including classroom based shops or economies, but this is one of the better examples of economic curricula. I liked the level of active involvement for every student.
I wonder a bit about the cost of the program. Another teacher said that the program cost each student $25. I am not sure how the money was raised. This school was in a relatively wealthy area of the school district. I wonder if the program could be implemented in the much less wealthy school I had been in the previous day. That school was less than 5 miles away, but had an entirely different demographic. I hope that isn't part of the lesson: the richer kids get to learn about economics; the poorer kids can't afford it.
For the lesson I saw, the students in four 5th grade classes were sorted into various shops. The shops in my room dealt with travel, containers, a market, and investments. Students, who had applied to work in those shops had assigned roles, some of which they had applied for with job applications. The project managers ran the meetings for their shops and the accountants prepared the financial information. The students decided on such things as the shop name, the shop logo, advertisements for the radio, newspaper, and television. They applied for a loan to start up their business when they get to AmeriTowne, and the accountant wrote out salary checks, so they would get paid when they get to the site.
So much for the basic design of the project. What impressed me most was what happened when the project managers took over the management of the projects. As a substitute teacher, I knew less about what they were doing than they did, so I basically just wandered around the room, watching and listening to the progress of their meetings. Most of the groups had fairly strong managers, but sometimes other students seemed to be very helpful to the management, too. The accountants, who presumably had been chosen for their mathematical confidence, seemed comfortable in their roles, but occasionally they seemed stronger than the project managers.
The program says that it helps to teach leadership skills, and, if the day I was there is any indication, they are correct. The project managers had a long list of objectives for the session and they seemed to figure out how to get their teams working on them. There were enough jobs and things to do that each person could be involved. There were a few passive students, who seemed uninvolved or disinterested, but in general, I was impressed with the interest and task-oriented behavior. The groups varied in size from four students to six or seven. The group with only four students was very focused and hard-working, but they were the last to finish, because there were fewer students to do the work. The other groups were done sooner.
All in all, I was impressed with the program. I have often thought that schools need to include more economics in their curricula, and this is a good start. I have seen other methods of doing this, including classroom based shops or economies, but this is one of the better examples of economic curricula. I liked the level of active involvement for every student.
I wonder a bit about the cost of the program. Another teacher said that the program cost each student $25. I am not sure how the money was raised. This school was in a relatively wealthy area of the school district. I wonder if the program could be implemented in the much less wealthy school I had been in the previous day. That school was less than 5 miles away, but had an entirely different demographic. I hope that isn't part of the lesson: the richer kids get to learn about economics; the poorer kids can't afford it.
Saturday, October 01, 2011
Differentiation - It Isn't Enough for HG+ Kids
Yes, I know differentiation is the acceptable mantra for educators these days. I know I am supposed to tout the virtues of differentiating for every kid in the classroom. I know that, if potential principals see this, I will not be considered for full time jobs. But, I also know that, as a sub, I see very little of it.
For anyone who actually reads this, but who doesn't know my background, I will briefly say that I have taught in four states: Massachusetts (private schools), Illinois (public and private schools), Alaska (public and charter schools), and Colorado (public and charter schools). I have taught, either full time or subbing, in at least a dozen school districts, dozens of schools, and hundreds of different classrooms. I have gone through extensive training on differentiation and gifted, differentiation and special education, and differentiation in general.
I have seen very little differentiation in action. Some teachers will differentiate spelling lists. Some teachers will have different levels of book groups. Some teachers will pair up with other teachers and group the students for math classes. But, if we are talking about meeting the needs of kids outside of the middle of the bell curve, there is very little for those outlier kids. It can be done - I have seen 3 or 4 teachers who could do it. I laud them. But, in general, it isn't happening.
And, I think it is time that educators who are interested in meeting the needs of HG+ gifted students admit that differentiation, as it is practiced (or not practiced) just isn't enough. It isn't consistent enough, it isn't broad-based enough, and it isn't at the correct level. The further the gifted student is from the class average, the less appropriate any differentiated accommodations are.
Differentiation is a great thing to train teachers to do. It is effective to have the things that I mentioned above: leveled math, book groups, leveled spelling, different expectations for writing, etc. It just isn't enough to meet the needs of the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. And I think it is time to stop pretending that regular classroom teachers can teach all students.
We know that inclusion has worked for a lot of kids with learning disabilities, but we also know that their special teachers, special classes, and supporting aides still have their jobs. In fact, there are loads of jobs advertised for special education aides. We know that differentiation isn't enough for these kids. The simple fact is that they need more support than this. Why don't we acknowledge the same for the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. The regular classroom teachers just can't meet their needs.
Again: The regular classroom teachers just can't meet the needs of the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. This was true before the great school budget problems; it is even more true now, with class sizes creeping up to ever higher numbers. It is unfair to classroom teachers to continually demand more and more of them. They already have more responsibilities and less time than they need in order to be maximally effective.
This rant is targeted mainly at elementary schools, but also somewhat at middle schools / junior highs. By the time the kids get to high school, we mostly stop pretending that a single teacher can teach all levels of ability in a single class. AP Calc AB is not differentiated and no one expects that AP Calc teacher to prepare lessons for students who might want to take the class, but who haven't yet mastered algebra. Nor is the algebra teacher expected to teach calculus to the one kid in the class who is ready for AP Calc AB. It just doesn't make sense.
For those of us who are interested in the HG+ kids, I think it is time to stop saying that differentiation can solve all of their educational needs. It isn't happening.
For anyone who actually reads this, but who doesn't know my background, I will briefly say that I have taught in four states: Massachusetts (private schools), Illinois (public and private schools), Alaska (public and charter schools), and Colorado (public and charter schools). I have taught, either full time or subbing, in at least a dozen school districts, dozens of schools, and hundreds of different classrooms. I have gone through extensive training on differentiation and gifted, differentiation and special education, and differentiation in general.
I have seen very little differentiation in action. Some teachers will differentiate spelling lists. Some teachers will have different levels of book groups. Some teachers will pair up with other teachers and group the students for math classes. But, if we are talking about meeting the needs of kids outside of the middle of the bell curve, there is very little for those outlier kids. It can be done - I have seen 3 or 4 teachers who could do it. I laud them. But, in general, it isn't happening.
And, I think it is time that educators who are interested in meeting the needs of HG+ gifted students admit that differentiation, as it is practiced (or not practiced) just isn't enough. It isn't consistent enough, it isn't broad-based enough, and it isn't at the correct level. The further the gifted student is from the class average, the less appropriate any differentiated accommodations are.
Differentiation is a great thing to train teachers to do. It is effective to have the things that I mentioned above: leveled math, book groups, leveled spelling, different expectations for writing, etc. It just isn't enough to meet the needs of the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. And I think it is time to stop pretending that regular classroom teachers can teach all students.
We know that inclusion has worked for a lot of kids with learning disabilities, but we also know that their special teachers, special classes, and supporting aides still have their jobs. In fact, there are loads of jobs advertised for special education aides. We know that differentiation isn't enough for these kids. The simple fact is that they need more support than this. Why don't we acknowledge the same for the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. The regular classroom teachers just can't meet their needs.
Again: The regular classroom teachers just can't meet the needs of the highly, exceptionally, and profoundly gifted students. This was true before the great school budget problems; it is even more true now, with class sizes creeping up to ever higher numbers. It is unfair to classroom teachers to continually demand more and more of them. They already have more responsibilities and less time than they need in order to be maximally effective.
This rant is targeted mainly at elementary schools, but also somewhat at middle schools / junior highs. By the time the kids get to high school, we mostly stop pretending that a single teacher can teach all levels of ability in a single class. AP Calc AB is not differentiated and no one expects that AP Calc teacher to prepare lessons for students who might want to take the class, but who haven't yet mastered algebra. Nor is the algebra teacher expected to teach calculus to the one kid in the class who is ready for AP Calc AB. It just doesn't make sense.
For those of us who are interested in the HG+ kids, I think it is time to stop saying that differentiation can solve all of their educational needs. It isn't happening.
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