Category Archives: Education

An Open Letter to a Supportive Family

Dear Supportive Family,

When your boy came to me, he was a small guy. Restless as he paced outside the circle of the adults convened in the hallway discussing him, his past, what his future may hold. His eyes flicked our way and he offered only curt words and shoulder shrugs in response to the questions asked in a way that told me you were hoping he would contain himself long enough for me to agree to give him a try.

I stepped back out of our circle, stopping his swirl around us. I looked over him – at him felt too strong. “Creed, would you like to be here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t? No? Okay, well if you don’t then there is no point in us talking about it.”

“What, I didn’t say no. I said know.”

“Know what? Know that you know it is a no?” A small smile from me. Would he catch on?

I knew it wasn’t no. I just needed to connect and get a feel for him. Your kid had some serious baggage he was dragging along behind him – violent outbursts, ADHD and a lack of friends were just a few of the items tossed in. Was I willing to spend the energy and time to help him unpack it? Was I willing to bring your child into my classroom, one that had been humming along quite nicely all year? He was a “choice-in” student from a neighboring district. I could say no. You knew that.

His head tilted as he puzzled at the silly word play. Eye squinted for a second and then the flash of “Aha!” that couldn’t help but come out as a flash of a smile. I couldn’t say no to that kind of smile, that mind. I agreed to a one week “trial” where I would then meet with you to give my answer.

Day one, hour one. Your Creed flipped a desk in anger. He was sent out into the hall to copy a paragraph about “Impulse Control.” Hissing in anger, he slammed out the door. Hard. I heard his clipboard skitter down the hall. It was an hour before he walked back in with the sheet crumbled and torn, but scribbled upon. He tossed it in my general direction.

Not working for me. A new sheet; clean, not crumbled nor torn. Begin again.

Seething, he snatched it from my hands – tearing it.

“Give me another.”

“I will. After you finish the one you just tore.”

And so it went for the week. I pushed your child as hard as I could without losing him all the way. I wanted to see what I was getting into.

The day of our meeting arrived. I had no idea what Creed had gone home and told you about our “adventures” at school. All I knew was that for him to grow and change, it would take ALL of us adults to be on the same page. I laid out a contract of behavior that focused on Creed’s behavioral needs and my specific methods for helping him.

But, this contract was different. I also required you to pledge your support of the actions I would be taking to help your child learn to manage his actions and emotions. There would be no way to effectively help him make the deep changes required if I were constantly worried about what your reactions would be. Stern words? Repeatedly rewriting a sheet done too sloppily? Actually holding him accountable? I needed you on board. There would be no coddling, no excuses.

My deal? I would not be calling you with every poor behavior your child had. As a matter of fact, I would not be calling unless Creed was a danger to himself or others or had his first day where he just fit in like any other kid.

Flashes over the two-and-half years since:

Breathe Creed
Punch the wall
Glare back tears
I will NOT breath!
Have it your way Creed…
Hissed
Gritted teeth
Shaky
Breath
Deep relief

Caged in his own mind. Pacing.
Sliding down the wall, eyes covered,
“I am getting taken off all my medications.”
Try not to look stunned.
This has been Creed medicated?
“If you feel like ever hurting yourself, you have to tell someone.”
Fat tears of fear and shaking small body,
“I’m so scared.”
First phone call home.

Metaphorical fists up!
Put down your fists Creed.
A friend?
One. For a moment.
An unfortunate, mild incident
NOT sorry!
Put down your fists Creed.
Tried anew
Kicked the new.
Quick, hard
Anger!
Sorry!
No. Sorry?
Yes.
Emotional regulation is so hard!

Reams of “Impulse Control” sheets
scribbled and rewritten.
Clipped, unclipped, clipped again from the clipboard
Pencils sharpened, dulled, re-sharpened
“I am coming to the realization…”
Thoughts of what it means to discipline self,
imprinted on his paper and his mind.

“Mrs. Cruden, you and me are a lot a like.
I am a Bugatti engine,
trapped in a lawn mower’s life.
You are a Porche engine,
trapped in a mini-van’s life.”
So right your child was.

Grinding, grinding, grinding
Discipline,
as if he were my own.
Believing in what I am doing,
believing in Creed.
We believe.
Change is happening.

A day
regular and sunny
nothing out of the ordinary.
Months in the making.
“Oh God, what did he do?”
“Nothing. Today was just a regular day for a regular kid.”
Breath sighed out. Relief.
That was my second phone call home

Younger grades at his feet.
Talking science in a lab coat.
Goggles askew, hands wildly waving!
He is alive!
Your Creed… is a teacher!

Appendix out.
His classmates are worried.
Big sloppy, “Get Well!” cards.
Hand delivered to your home.
His face is that of loopy joy.
Your child has become a class beloved.

Dapper in a button down
Tie straight
Flowers in hand
Taking a sweet girl to the 8th grade dance
Smiling picture posted on FB
Creed has arrived.

It must have been hard to trust in the process and keep belief in the importance of learning self-discipline. As promised, there was no coddling, there were no excuses; from any of us. Your support enabled me to do my job – all of it. Teachers across America crave what you gave me – the gift to teach. For that I thank you.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Cruden

P.S. Soon Creed will walk across the stage and graduate 8th grade. In his mind are the keys to his Bugatti engine. Enjoy the ride! Maybe send a few postcards along the way…

Teacher Appreciation Week: Don’t Read the Comments

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week!

Make sure to enjoy this week, so don’t read the comments under any article, post, tweet, or Facebook share that in any way references teachers, teaching, or public education.

There is growing evidence that engagement in social media, including even the comment sections under mainstream media articles, can have a significantly negative impact on mental health. For people like me, whose twenty-year ebb-and-flow battle with clinical depression has made me unnecessarily sensitive to the venom and hate online, settling into some mindless social media perusal after a rough day at work ends up nudging us into the kind of downward spiral that for far too many culminates in bona fide burnout.

It is important during this teacher appreciation week that we also appreciate each other…both online and in person.

Often we take the time to (rightfully) single out those teachers who made a difference in our lives. For me, names from the 80s and 90s like Mary Jo Jones (science and math teacher), Jennifer Stenkamp (English teacher), Dale Crawford (FFA Advisor) and Elizabeth Shelley (English teacher) will always come first to mind. There’s also Wendi Kuntz and Jan Franke, whose support during my student teaching made me the educator I am today. There’s Fran Oishi, my amazing first-year-teacher mentor from my days in Federal Way. Appreciating the teachers of our past is important.

Continue reading

Old School Buildings and Infrastructure Investment

All teachers get good, over time, at being resourceful. We learn to scavenge for what we need to do our jobs. We get comfortable with discomfort, with working with less-than-optimal environments (in some particularly bad cases, “less-than-optimal” would be a laughable understatement). This is not limited to any particular state – from what I’ve read lately, and what I’ve experienced teaching in different states (NY and WA), this is a nationwide public school reality.

A spotlight has been directed on our lack of investment in school buildings, equipment, and furniture. As teachers in West Virginia, Oklahoma, Arizona were striking in the beginning of this year, a wave was building: educators around the country have been sharing about ways that school buildings are failing kids and failing teachers. We saw Baltimore students huddled in coats and mittens in their freezing classrooms, a story that originated with a tweet by NFL player-turned teacher Aaron Maybin. This attention led to a GoFundMe campaign that raised more than $84K for space heaters and outwear for Baltimore students – obviously not a long-term fix, but evidence of public support for better classroom conditions.

Personally, I’ve taught in classrooms with broken furniture, no whiteboard, no projector (in a visual arts class!), broken floor and ceiling tiles, leaking ceilings, and above-80-degree or below-60-degree temperatures. One school had a staff of 40+ that shared a single, one-toilet bathroom, while 300 students shared 2 bathrooms of 3 toilets/each (and plumbing problems were frequent).

I have dragged a stained, fraying area rug from a school trash pile and dyed it with I fabric dyes that I found in an old cupboard – it was my “circle time” rug for 2 years. I have pushed students in wheelchairs over tangles of extension cords and directed electric fans at students looking particularly overheated. I’m active in my local Buy Nothing facebook group, where neighbors share items they’re giving away – I’ve gotten art materials and classroom furniture that way. My assistant principal found a pair of computer speakers at Goodwill for me.

But I am so commonplace in this – every educator does this, often more, to try and meet students’ needs. I have seen special ed teachers and paraeducators, in particular, go to unimaginable lengths to make classrooms and environments safe and accessible for students with disabilities.

Rachel Cohen of the Washington Post points out that this is a long-standing problem of Federal vs. State, as far as infrastructure investment. “U.S. school buildings are 45 years old on average. But these problems disproportionately affect poor communities. In older cities, particularly industrial ones, schools average closer to 60 to 70 years old.”

Cohen brings up an idea put forward by Mary Filardo, the director of the 21st Century School Fund, “suggest(ing) school districts should…be able to leverage up to 10 percent of their Title I funds for capital expenses — currently, the federal money distributed to high-poverty districts can go only toward operating costs.”

While I don’t like that this would mean less funding – vital, in my experience – for operating costs, I do agree that the cost of infrastructure improvements in schools should be shared between Federal and State governments.

Locally, Seattle is putting levy funds – special election-based tax funds – towards improving Seattle Public Schools facilities. In 2016, the Buildings, Technology, and Academics IV Capitol Levy (BTA IV) passed by 72% of the vote, allocating $475.3 million toward school building construction, to be received and used between 2017-2022. Three existing buildings will be re-opened after improvements/updates to address growth in SPS enrollment. In a district as large as SPS, it can be hard to reconcile the good news of this kind, with the reality of so many day-to-day inadequacies in our classrooms and school buildings.

In an environment of scarcity, it’s also hard not to resent the newer buildings in the district, even while I know that the funds can’t go everywhere all at once. The most we can do is to be patient, and to advocate for more funding (locally, as well as state and federal), particularly for schools serving students living in poverty and students with diverse access and safety needs from their learning environments. Last year (in my old school), a group of Microsoft workers toured our building. They remarked on things that we had long since stopped seeing: water damage on the walls, cones around playground drains that don’t drain, exposed holes in acoustic-tile ceilings. It reminded me that sometimes my acquired skills in “making do” go too far – we can get used to unacceptable environments when we lose hope that change will happen.

While I try to raise my expectations of my classroom and school building, I’ll continue to scavenge and be resourceful. In my hunt for district and regional policy information regarding school facilities, I also came across this: guidelines for safety in art classrooms! It’s a good learning resource and a reminder that an optimal academic environment requires a safe and accessible space for everyone, and I can start with my own room.

 

Project, Products, and Publishing (or All’s Well That Ends Well)

Assessment. That’s a loaded word these days, particularly in the last months of the school year. But, what is it, really? Is it the state test? Is it an essay? Is it multiple choice?

Of course, the answer is yes to all of that, but there is so much more. We could get into the semantics of what is summative or formative assessment, and what type/mode/format of assessment is more valid or reliable or necessary. However, today I am interested in discussing one particular sort of assessment: publishing.

What I mean by “publishing” is this particular definition: to make publicly or generally known.

The Washington State English Language Arts Standards reference it:

W.9-10.6 Production and Distribution of Writing

Use technology, including the internet, to produce, publish, and update individual or shared writing products, taking advantage of technology’s capacity to link to other information and to display information flexibly and dynamically.

Ooh…and “to display information flexibly and dynamically!” That really gets to the heart of the matter, there. How do we assess this? How do we teach our students to publish? to create products? to display information flexibly and dynamically? And then, once we do teach these skills, how do we assess them?

My answer to all these questions is project-based learning. This last week, while my seventh-graders were busy toiling over their answers on the Smarter Balanced Assessment, my ninth-graders were wowing the public with their “Shakesfair” projects. Both of these assessments are valid. Both give me information that informs my practice. Both can really stress a kid out if they don’t have the skills or support. And, both can bring a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Animatic Project for Shakesfair 2018

The difference is that one can also be an entertaining and educational way to connect with families and the community. It can inspire creativity, and it can celebrate individuality. It can encompass so many aspects of a child’s intelligence, skills, and talents. I can tell you without a doubt that the projects my students create prove their understanding of the material we cover in class. They also extend the learning, showing the reading, writing, communication, and research skills I am teaching them. These are valid assessments, and they also “display information flexibly and dynamically.”

On the down side, projects can be a royal pain. They are messy, hard to manage, and time-consuming. They require a teacher to set firm guidelines and offer support in ways he or she never imagined, like problem-solving last-minute tech issues for an Animatic animation, or finding creative ways to serve non-alcoholic English trifle to hundreds of guests. While projects bring out the most creative and imaginative attributes of most students, they bewilder and frustrate others, often those with special needs. To avoid these pitfalls, projects take tons of preparation, patience, and dedication.

I am committed to assessing my students with projects several times a year. Sometimes these are project-based learning activities, and sometimes they are just projects. To understand the difference, check out the handy table here. Some of my project-based assessments are small, such as one day tasks chosen from a menu to show understanding of a text through multiple pathways. These are simple and not too terribly messy or complicated to score. Each grade level gets a couple big projects, too. Some are group projects, some are individual, and some are flexible. They choose. Student choice is paramount for successful projects. For all projects, I have carefully crafted rubrics and timelines and rules established over time. Of course, that was all accomplished through trial and error, pursuing a good idea and learning how terribly complicated it really was!

That said, project-based learning is not for every teacher. It takes a willingness to face the issues head on. It takes a lot of patience to guide students through the discomfort they often experience when they actually have choices. It takes a lot of nerve.

Now the nerve is what you need when you get to the publishing part. That part requires the PUBLIC. The public is your audience. They see the whole big, beautiful mess, with all of its warts and all of its wackiness. You have to be willing to let your students shine or fizzle in a public format. And that is very, very hard.

Historical Recipe Project

At our 14th Annual Shakesfair, my students were shining. Well, mostly. We had Renaissance Era a slightly messy smorgasbord of food – trifle, roast chicken, meat pies – served by enthusiastic students. We had music researched and played heroically by young musicians, and there was a variety of artwork created by students who surprised their classmates with their hidden talents. Others shared creative writing based on Shakespeare- short stories, poetry, and songs. Several this year chose analytical writing, critiquing plays and films and examining themes. A select few gave slide show presentations, and there were the always popular models of the globe theater. Students from previous years came in and begged to show the films they produced when they were freshmen, and we all enjoyed seeing their first attempts at film-making once again.

I have thirty freshmen this year and well over a hundred visitors joined them. Parents, grandparents, staff, upperclassmen, and members of the community came and viewed their work, displayed “flexibly and dynamically.”

It was an exhausting time. The project overlaps with a full month of our Shakespeare unit, but the last week is a flurry of activity. And, to top it off, I was proctoring the 7th grade assessment for three hours on the day of the event, with no prep time. Luckily, my students in my afternoon classes chipped in to help set up, and clean up was well-managed and fast. I have a system.

To those brave and crazy enough to take on project-based learning, I am here to tell you that it is worth it. You will never forget the creativity and enthusiasm of your students, and the praise of their families. And, neither will they.

Ubiquitous Globe Theater Project

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Do you assess with projects? Tell me how your students publish their work and create products to share.

Going Upstream

“Two things that are going well and one problem you would like to see changed. You must write a solution to the problem – otherwise you are simply complaining. Complaining in life will get you nowhere. Finding solutions to your problems will get you everywhere. Never forget the farmer! Go!”

Almost verbatim, this is how I begin our weekly class meeting. My students quickly jot down joyful things and happy thoughts; focusing on the good in their lives, their school, their class and their friends. But they do not forget the farmer – the one who stops pulling his drowning sheep from the river and runs upstream to puzzle out the reason they are in the river to begin with and then solves the problem.

Recently I was in a teachers’ meeting and the special education teacher was running through some data on our students. She mentioned my own five-year-old who she has worked with on phonograms throughout the year. “My word, she really is such a curious child! Always full of questions! Such strong gains!”

I smiled – a little proud, but mostly just relieved and thankful. This wild little chatterbox had come to us at the age of three with a diagnosis of being developmentally delayed in language as well as both fine and gross motor skills. She was so small and so very silent.

The summer she and her sister came was a summer of intense wildfires in our area. It was a summer of great worries and hopes. She was both. Our school started late that year due to an evacuation of the town. I had barely begun to adjust to her playing quietly underfoot before she was enrolled at the preschool in our school’s building and I was back in the classroom. I was not sure I was making the right choice.

The first day she came home with clay in her hair, blue paint on her new pink dress, her hair flung out of her ponytails and a new, shy smile I had never seen. Her preschool experience changed the very foundation upon which she stands today. The quiet one was left behind on the nap mat that year. She is now reading words, writing, playing with others, and is so full of questions. Why? Why? Why? (Sometimes I think we live with a baby seagull.)

The majority of the data in that meeting reflected strong gains throughout the building. A moment of celebration and “YES!” should have followed. But, our principal was unusually somber. She broke the news…

Our community’s preschool, a preschool funded by the Early Childhood Education and Assistance Program (ECEAP), was going to be terminated at the end of the month. ECEAP is designed to serve the educational needs of preschool-age children of poverty, those with developmental delays, and those deemed to be “at-risk.” We certainly have students who match these requirements; we simply don’t have enough of them to warrant the expense of a preschool in our rural community any longer. “If there is another ECEAP provider within 40 miles, and you have fewer than X number of students, funding will no longer be provided.” ECEAP’s hands are tied. It is what it is. And yet, miles is time and money; 40 miles on a bus…that’s an eternity in a preschooler’s mind, and the difference between “barely surviving” and “possibly thriving” on a tight budget.

Preschool matters, and it may matter most for those children at-risk. According to GreatSchools, the brain is undergoing major anatomical and physiological changes that can affect student learning throughout the rest of the child’s school years. Beyond building the capacities required for reading, writing and mathematical reasoning, it is a time for children to grow in their abilities to interact with others, self-regulate emotions, practice focusing attention, and learn the skills of interacting with peers. It was disheartening to be told our community’s children would no longer be able to readily benefit from the experience of preschool.

Two things that are going well? My daughter can write, identify and provide sounds for all of the letters of the alphabet as she strings them into short words. My daughter is not sullen nor silent, but full of the joy of curiosity.

One problem? There are others who will no longer have the opportunity she has had in our rural community. Where will they experience the noise and joys of learning?

The solution? Go upstream! We need to leverage our collective influence to impress upon decision-makers how significant and important early education is. Our students are on a continuum of growth, starting long before the “first day of school.” Early childhood education affects us all and its impact may be greatest on our most at-risk children; all of them – not just those lucky enough to live in close proximity to ECEAP services. Many of your future students, the ones coming down the stream to you already, are counting on it.

Thoughts on Testing Season from the Heart of Testing Season

 

It is hard to sleep.

Often preparation, at this point, feels futile.

Changing schedules can feel as stressful as examinations.

Young students who love school often don’t want to go to school.

Teachers learn to hope and to let go.

This is hard on teachers too.

And administrators.

Administrative calendars fill with colors.  From March 5th to June 8th thousands of Washington students (as students all over the country) will take ELA, Math, Science exams, re-take exams, take make up exams, all during school days, in libraries, spare rooms, classrooms, headphones and computers must be found and provided, pencils provided, tools provided, time provided, proctors trained, proctors reminded, schedules changed, altered, and developed to both provide the lowest impact to a school and honor the time and intensity of the test takers.

A bumper sticker reads: a child is more than a test score. When Graduation is on the line it is hard to remember that a child is more than a test score.

As a Washington state student you want to be in the 2500 range for math and for English.

For Washington state:

In grades 3-8, students take tests in ELA, math, and science for federal accountability.
In high school, students take tests in ELA, math, and science for federal accountability.

For some students the exam is not stressful. The calendar change is not stressful. They will cruise through this, like a subway commuter. We are all happy for them.

From May 7th to May 18th hundreds of Washington students will take AP exams—a different exam offered each day, all offering the possibility for college credit.

It will be hard to sleep.

Last night I listened to Naomi Shihab Nye talk about books and the importance of voice for everyone across the world, but especially for children. Among the many inspiring and thoughtful things she said, was a story about one of her own essays that was used for a state standardized exam and how a reporter smuggled that section of the exam (essay and questions) out and showed them to her. She said she could only be certain of the answer for 3 of 10 questions about her own essay.

Ms Shiab Nye also mentioned that, though hailing from Texas, Washington State’s motto is her favorite. The motto is Al-ki, Chinook Jargon (a native pidgin trading language of the PNW) meaning “by and by.”

This is my new mantra for testing season, by and by. Presently, be present, as things will happen, things will pass, students will succeed, students will fail, and by and by we will proceed with school, with all sorts of tests, and with our lives.

What Teaching Internationally Has Taught Me About Life, Limits and Differences

By Guest Blogger, NBCT Sarah Applegate

Things that aren’t different:

  • Teachers complaining about staff meetings
  • New instructional initiatives that both inspire and tire teachers
  • Kids who turn in assignments late
  • Parent meetings that are stressful

Things that are different:

  • Where the staff meetings are held
  • The types of instructional initiatives that occur
  • Where kids turn in their late assignments
  • How long parent meetings last

Phuket, Thailand

Nearly two years ago, my husband and I finally finished our Search Associates application and did what we had been threatening/planning/talking about doing for years – we started actually searching for overseas teaching positions. What surprised us the most (we were naive) was how competitive overseas teaching is.  We had a very narrow search at first…Europe, some Latin American countries since Rob is a Spanish teacher. But we soon discovered that despite our (stellar) resumes, jobs were tough for us to land. After a year of frustration, we expanded our search, and, based on experiences our friends had been having at a school in China, we applied and were hired at the Dalian American International School in Dalian, China.

Fast forward a year, and here we are, living and working at DAIS. Literally since we live on campus. We live in a rural area about an hour outside of Dalian, a small city of 8 million people(!). We live a mile from a beach, our apartment looks out on a blueberry farm/wedding picture locale and we live with most of the people we work with in a six-story building. One plus- our commute is about 2 minutes.

I teach Senior and Junior Seminar (which focuses on college application and completing a research project) along with teaching technology at the elementary school. Rob teaches English and Social Studies to 7th graders. Our school is unique in that there is an international group and a Chinese national boarding program. Rob and I work with only Chinese students at the secondary school and the students I work with at the elementary school are all international (meaning, they hold a passport from a country other than China).

We had months to think about what work would be like here. And, many of our assumptions came true.

The students we teach are incredibly privileged and part of the rising middle and upper class in China. It isn’t surprising (anymore) to see a Porsche, a Range Rover and a Maserati at elementary pickup.

Students have a wide and varied range of educational experiences, both in the international and the Chinese national programs. In the international program, some students have lived all over the world, speak 2 and 3 languages, and see themselves as part of the broader global community- they have a deep understanding and acceptance that DAIS is just a stop on their journey as part of their parent’s work assignments.

Kids arrive and leave the elementary school frequently, and some are more ready to be in an English only program than others. In the Chinese national program, there isn’t a ton of turnover, but the language proficiency varies widely. Some of my seniors love to practice their language skills and have a solid understanding that next year they will be attending college in an English-speaking country so practicing now is valuable! Others are reticent and take shelter in the fact that 2/3 of the entire secondary school speaks Mandarin as their first language. They only speak in English when they are required to by the course or the teacher, and otherwise their day is in Mandarin. As someone who doesn’t have a second language and is a self-admitted lazy language learner, I can empathize- heck, I live and work in a gated community with other English speakers. However, my senior students are going to be in an entirely English university program in just 6 months! Gaah!

View from Hike

But, many of our assumptions didn’t come true:

Just because parents are shelling out a lot of money to attend a “western style” school, this doesn’t mean the students are motivated, take initiative and want to learn everything they can. They are still kids and teenagers, with moods, interests and skills that vary widely, and a broad range of understanding the privilege and opportunity they are being offered. We still have to bring our ‘A’ game every day. At least we have less of them to inspire. To be frank, class sizes are very reasonable.

Even working at a private school, even with the tuition, resources, etc., behind the scenes, we are still living in China, a developing nation. Thus working with technology can be incredibly frustrating. The government has a pretty tight monitor on information (apparently their website that filters all information that comes in and out of the China is the busiest in the world, which makes sense) but trying to be a technology teacher, providing 21st century experiences to worldly kids can be incredibly frustrating. We do a lot of sitting…and waiting for websites to load. As teachers, we all try to laugh it off, giving one another sympathetic “I know” looks whenever it is brought up at staff meetings (see above). However, as a technology teacher, I think I have a special and uniquely frustrating relationship with this reality.

China is different. So much different than the US, and the other two countries we have lived in (Mexico and Finland). There is so much I don’t understand- the language, obviously is a huge one, but layer that with characters that are pretty much unintelligible, traditions that don’t look like anything I have known before, and a public school educational system that is amazing (in the fact of how fast they have been able to increase literacy) but is entirely based on rote and routine memorization for an exit exam that requires a complete and exact regurgitation of the textbook information using the ancient and complex characters? Well, it is just a lot to take in every day. The first few weeks and months are a blur and people try and help- the question- “How are you adjusting?” is asked to every newbie frequently during the first few weeks. I vacillated between trying to stay strong (“We are great”) to honest (“I don’t know that I can stay here past October without having a nervous breakdown”).

In mid-November I had a quiet and brief epiphany: I can do it. I can figure out how to get groceries, coffee and exercise. I can appreciate the differences, I can laugh and relax just a little, and I can work on doing a better job of parenting, teaching and taking care of myself. I have a year and a half to go in my contract. I know I am going to be surprised at who I become and how I talk about these experiences in June 2019, when we plan to come home and “return to regular programming.”

PyeongChang 2018 Olympic Winter Games Ski Jump

Sarah Applegate has been teaching for 23 years and is excited to be new at something again! Sarah spent her entire teaching career in the same high school, first as an English teacher and then as the Teacher Librarian. In 2016-2017, she had the opportunity to work for CSTP working on teacher leadership initiatives and learned a lot about how to create the environment for teacher leadership to grow. Sarah has worked with National Board Initiatives in Washington State since 2002 and believes teacher leadership can improve student learning and transform schools. Sarah cannot believe how many miles she has been putting on her frequent flyer account over the past 10 months.

Blue Sky Thinking

“If you could redesign schools, what would you do?”

That had to be the best, most intriguing question a job application form ever handed me. I keep going back to it and playing with it. Mandy Manning’s post brought it up again. If we could start from scratch, what would we do?

Here are some ideas I’ve had over the years.

First of all, we need a lot more recess—supervised but unstructured, free play recess. A 15-minute break in the morning, a half-hour break at lunch, and a 15-minute break in the afternoon. That’s an hour of physical activity for the kids every day, which is exactly what the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends. (Why do we stop recess at the end of elementary school? Do children suddenly stop needing physical activity or a mental break during the day?)

Second, we need a lot more art and drama and creative problem solving (like maker spaces). Things we used to have that have gotten squeezed out. If we want to stay competitive in the global market, we need to keep the part of the American educational system that was unique and attractive—our ability to develop creative thinkers. Ironically, the more we try to emulate homogeneous school systems from other nations in order to increase our scores on international tests, the more we are going to lose our edge.

I’ll tell you what I mean. I had a teacher from Japan visit my classroom. She was stunned at how eagerly my fifth grade students offered to leap up and do presentations. She told me none of her students would ever volunteer to present in class. She was impressed with the quality of the presentations.

As the kids walked out to recess, she went over to a display on my wall and asked, “What’s this?”

“Bloom’s Taxonomy,” I said. “You know what it is.”

She had never heard of it. Not in any of her education courses. So I explained it to her.

She nodded thoughtfully and said, “In Japan, we do this,” pointing to Knowledge and Comprehension.

I said, “Well, of course, everyone starts there. You have to. But then you do these,” and I pointed to the rest.

She said, “No, we do these,” pointing again to Knowledge and Comprehension. And she taught high school.

By the time we were done talking, she wanted to come teach in America.

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Following My Teacher Leader Compass

Teacher leadership requires us at times to buck the system. By this I mean that sometimes we will find ourselves in the minority on an issue, and we will be faced with tough decisions. Should we go with the opinion of the majority, or do we stick to what we feel to be right? How do you know that you are on the side of what is right?

In this business, we have a solid and predictable compass on our leadership journey. What is best for the students informs all that we do. The needs of the students drive our decisions because, if the students are failing to thrive, our system is failing. Often, teacher leaders become frustrated with administrations and other influential bodies that drive policy based on money, staffing issues, politics or other lesser things. It is then that we bristle and arm ourselves with research, data, and anecdotal evidence to march bravely to the front and speak on behalf of those who matter most, our students.

Teacher leaders take pride in representing our students. Still, when we find ourslelves faced with yet another issue where we must raise our hand and our voice, where we must offer the better way, despite being “just” teachers, it can be challenging.

I’m currently struggling with such a dilemma. Our district is strenghtening its retention policy to discourage a rapid uptick in junior high students with failing grades. The majority of district staff believe that if our policy has more “teeth,” if we actually retain more students, then others will work harder. This issue strikes a very harsh chord with me, and it’s personal.

My path to teaching has not been conventional. Many teachers come from middle class upbringing and school was a positive part of their young lives. For me, my childhood was marked by poverty, disfunction and abuse. Although, school, at times, was a sanctuary, in the end I chose to fail several classes in high school. I didn’t like or trust some teachers. My emotional needs took priority over academics at the time. Although I graduated on time, I let my grades fall and jeopardized my future. Punitive measures pushed me farther away from my teachers and my goals.

Fast forward to my adulthood, and the economic difficulties continued. I was a single mom with two children, struggling with poverty, homelessness, and general upheaval while I finished my education. My son failed fifth and sixth grades. His school wanted to retain him. Fortunately, the next school year I got my first teaching job, moved him across the state, and had him in my first seventh-grade class. He earned a D…from his mom. But, after settling in, he started to feel like the staff and the students cared about him. He started to appreciate his education and his own abilities. It was a complete turnaround. By the time he graduated, he had a B average.

So there is the anecdotal evidence, and the source of my personal passion. However, the research is vast that tells us that retention and other punitive measures do not work to improve engagement and achievement. (See links below)

But here is our real problem: Our student population is changing. We have a growing rate of poverty in our district. There are many students facing homelessness, abuse, neglect, disruption of every sort. Of course, we are already putting supports together for these troubled kids, but our resources are limited. And, we haven’t yet implemented the most basic changes to improve our outcomes: social-emotional learning curricula, trauma-informed teaching practices, remediation for low readers at the secondary level, peer mentoring, more frequent contact with adult mentors, etc. On top of that, they, the students, have not been asked what they need.

So, I ask, why are we getting “tough” on these kids before we get tough on ourselves? Our school generally supports the needs of its students. In fact, it is the same school that put my own son back on the path to success. However, missteps can be made. Teacher leaders should be ready to safeguard the needs of the students when and if they do.

Although I am as concerned as anyone else about the academic progress of my students, I believe that all students need emotional and academic support. I believe they need solid, trusting relationships with the adults in their school. I believe that they deserve a voice in the matter, too.

So, even though my position against retention is in the minority, I will stand by it, armed with data, case studies, and anecdotal evidence. I will listen to and consider the opposing views and share what I know and believe, hoping to make a difference.

As teacher leaders, we must regularly check our leadership compass. We must set our sights on true north–the academic and emotional needs of our students.

 

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More reading about the retention issue, should you want to dig a bit deeper:

A quick psychologist’s point of view- “Does Student Retention Work?”

An older study that should have settled it- Flynn’s The Effects of Grade Retention on Middle School Students’ Academic Achievement, School Adjustment and School Attendance”

A level-headed look at  both sides of the issue- “Essential Questions Concerning Grade Retention”

Here is a link to a project that inspired me to bring my background in poverty into my teaching practice. Kristen Leong’s Roll Call Project illustrates the connections between students and their teachers. How are we different? What do we have in common? Does having something in common with our students matter?

And, for an alternative way of approaching students in poverty, check out the section on “Mind set” here-   “Engaging Students with Poverty in Mind”

Failure and Its Uses Part Two

I will pick up from my previous post by describing a recent assignment in my AP Language classroom, but first want to address a few things that have been brought up in the comments to the “Part One” post. A few people mentioned that one situation evolving out of the reaction to decrease failure is to homogenize, or lower standards in order to avoid failure and create one vision of success. I think this is true—to a point. I’m sure it happens, but I’m also leery of the tone of such an assumption. I’ve never met an educator who mindfully, consciously, and intentionally compromised their academic integrity and lowered standards for students to simply pass them along and avoid failure. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but I am saying I’ve not been party to it in fifteen years and working in three school districts. By-and-large teachers are an ethical bunch who care about learning. Even the system of second chances mentioned in my previous post, does not imply a lowering of standards. What it does is offer second chances in ways I’m concerned are unhealthy to the learning process.

The other comment from part one I would like to address coincides with a recent post by one of my colleagues here at “Stories from the Schools.” One problem with evaluation and pacing in the public schools is the arbitrary nature of batching students by age and assuming that they learn at the same pace. I agree this is problematic and worthy of long discussion. I also agree that this is one arbitrary choice among many. I admire the project of the Khan Academy, and also admire Sal Khan’s stance of working to support public schools and not as an active critic of them. I think this is something worth exploring, but it is also something that much change at the larger systemic level first, or alternatives must be put in place or we set students up for an unfair failure. If a college does not know how to read a high school graduate’s transcript because their school eschewed grades, how does that serve a student? How do we ensure a fair and rigorous statewide or nationwide curriculum without the traditional A-F grade system? How do we ensure another arbitrary system accomplishing the exact same thing does not replace the A-F system? Difficult and complex conversations. Personally, I am currently interested in approaching these problems within the classroom, and within our current structures. Mostly, because it will impact students immediately.

What follows is my personal attempt to create a situation where students can take academic risk, fail, and have authentic second chances that provide the opportunity to learn and succeed. It is an assignment still in progress so I don’t know if it works, but this is something I’m trying.

In an attempt to shake students out of thinking like a student when writing in my class (and to get them thinking like a writer) I gave them the “read-it-like-a-reader-not-like-a-teacher assignment.” I told them they could write about anything they wanted, and that I would read until I lost interest—just as a general reader would. The point of the assignment is to make them stop playing the “game of school” and to find a more authentic academic voice. Most of my writing assignments read like letters so here is part of my intro:

“The challenge of writing compelling, analytical, academic essays is to merge two main things—thoughtful/provocative content and well-constructed prose. Substance and style. That’s what this class really is all about. We’ve been looking at what authors say and how they say it. I want you to pay more attention to what you have to say and how you say it. In other words, I want you to write like a champ. It will be hard, but I believe in you, as do your peers, your parents, and your dog/cat (take your pick).”

Then I gave them parameters regarding page lengths, etc., and I worked to define what would lose my interest—all based on work we’ve been doing in class via reading and writing assignments all year. This is key. The “read-it-like-a-reader-not-like-a-teacher assignment” came out of a specific class with a specific need, within a specific context. This is also why I am leery of technology based, independent learning platforms. Learning is dynamic in a human way, not a computerized logarithmic way. The assignment arose out of need, context, and the specific humans in the room. Here are my definitions from the assignment:

 

Definitions:

Lose interest: there are lots of reasons readers lose interest. For some, it is because there is a football game on. Or that it is raining outside. It is a relatively subjective thing, so I will attempt to put some parameters around this. I’m a forgiving reader (mostly). I’ve been a middle school or high school teacher for 14 years, so I’ve been trained to be a forgiving reader. I want my students to do well, and I want to be engaged in your writing. This is a good thing for you (a great thing actually). But I do lose interest when I run into the following:

  • Sentences that don’t say anything due to over use of abstractions, ambiguous syntax, or a general lack of clarity. (See Orwell revision sheet).
  • When people ignore the suggestions from George Orwell on the Orwell revision sheet (dead metaphors, pretentious language, jargon, etc.)
  • When arrogance seeps through the writing to the point the author appears not to care if other perspectives exist in the world.
  • When paragraphs or ideas within paragraphs appear unrelated (and I have an associative mind, so I can make some tenuous connections).
  • When writing feels formulaic, forced, or stylized inappropriately, and that there is not an authentic voice thinking through and communicating ideas.

What you are saying: equals the content of your piece. You can write about anything you like. Something connected to class or something that just matters to you. Technology, education, politics, a theme you wish had won in the class voting. Totally up to you. Note: I’m willing to read about any topic if the writing is strong enough.

How you are saying it: equals a conscious uses of grammar and rhetoric and style. You use devices we’ve discussed in class, you use sentence variety, fresh image or metaphor, your sentence mean something and flow together.

Are some of these subjective? Absolutely. But so is the attention span of any reader anywhere. In fact, I’d argue that my students have more information here about their reader than most writers. As the poet Antonio Porchia says in his book Voices, “I know what I have given you. I do not know what you have received.” I think teachers feel this way at times as well.

About half of the students earned an “F” on their first submission as I did not read past the first paragraph, or even the first sentence because the syntax was garbled or overly abstract or any other host of listed reasons. I drew the line, entered the score and told them, in proper Beckett style, to try again. They are trickling in (the deadline for the second submission is open), and some are improved. But the best part is the conversations have changed a bit. They are looking at their writing differently. They are not asking, “what do I need to fix?” but “how do I make this more engaging?” Which was the point. It’s not a perfect assignment, but I certainly feel it is one that fails better than most I’ve created this year. I also feel it is an assignment working to authentically engage students with both the course content and with their learning selves. They must face failure in a new way. I plan on adding a reflective letter assignment as the year ends asking them to discuss this assignment, the process for them, and the self-assess themselves as both writer and learner.