Category Archives: High School

Testing is Inequitable, What Else is New?

Testing’s Back, Back Again 

Last year, when Washington decided to delay standardized testing, I was ecstatic. I wonder why we give students high stakes tests at all, let alone during a global pandemic. These tests’ measurement of student learning are suspect in the best of circumstances, so testing during a global pandemic seemed laughable. 

Plus, when we would have tested last spring, we were just starting hybrid learning and class time was a precious, rare commodity after a year of online learning. 

But, as promised, these tests came back with a vengeance this fall. As a part of my new part time role in the library, I was tasked with coordinating and administering these tests. I like a challenge, and I enjoy system level thinking, but as someone who fundamentally disagrees with high stakes tests as measurements of students’ ability, the irony was not lost on me. I felt like “the man.” 

To “make up” for last year, we ended up testing almost double what we’d normally do, taking care of delayed middle schoolers with our ninth graders and the skipped sophomores with our eleventh graders. 

To add insult to my personal injury, there are still graduation waivers in place (thankfully!), so these tests aren’t exactly necessary. At all. 

So when a student asked me “Is this graded? No? Oh, so, I could just click random buttons and get out of here?” it was hard to find a way to say something other than “Well, sort of. But still try your best. Please.” 

Inequities in our Systems

Because I have only administered tests in the past for my sophomore English students, coordinating across the whole school gave me real insights into the inequities baked into the tests themselves. 

For instance, most of the students who struggled even logging in were students of color. Several of our Black students have names with apostrophes or “non-standard” spacing and many of our Hispanic students have multiple first and last names. So, it became a guessing game to find which parts of their name the state recognizes as legitimate. 

One of these students with emerging English proficiency was doing his best to take three subject tests but the program didn’t even acknowledge his name. From step one, our “standardized” tests are telling them they don’t belong. 

Then, once we got the test rolling, the stress and utter bewilderment I saw, especially from students in IEP English and math, was heartbreaking.

One raised her hand and asked me, eyes wide, “What am I supposed to do? I have never seen this before and have no idea what to do. I haven’t been taught this.”

Students received the accommodations we’re legally required to give, but an “alternate testing space” is not going to make up for the content of the test themselves. That won’t alleviate the pressure they feel in a silent room, staring at a computer screen that is supposed to tell them how smart, or how behind they are compared to their peers.

Kindness Isn’t Enough

We have a lot of conversations in our building around equity and a lot of the pushback we regularly receive from staff is about kindness. Many believe that because they are kind to all their students, they don’t need to look at how racial, gender, sexuality, or ability identities impact their classrooms. 

Of course, kindness is an incredible value we should all practice. Our staff is loving and kind, but those traits alone can’t remedy the inequities in our system. 

Being kind does not increase the number of students of color who take AP courses.  Kindness does not diminish opportunity gaps that lead to graduation rates that are equitable across demographics.

My state testing experience this year has been illustrative of the need to use our equity lenses in every facet of our schools. 

One teacher can have an incredibly meaningful lesson plan, but what about the students across the hall, who aren’t in her class? If a student’s name isn’t recognized by a computer system, is it pronounced correctly by the adults in his life? Does that student in IEP math know what her strengths are and have hope for her future? 

Unless a mandatory, standardized test can do all those things, I’m not at all convinced we should use our precious time, resources, and brain power administering them. What if we channeled all of that energy into coming up with some sort of portfolio system to give the state and federal government its data? 

Even the inventor of standardized multiple choice tests, Frederick J Kelly said “These tests are too crude to be used and should be abandoned.”

Based on my experience this year, I wholeheartedly agree with him. 

Being There: Teaching 2021

In a time where every student needs a little more emotional support, we educators are uniquely qualified to fill that need. We are skilled in making the connections that keep kids curious, excited about the world around them, and engaged with their peers.

This is life-saving work these days.

Our children need schools to buoy them up in times of stress. They need to have hope and inspiration of the sort that teachers deal in on a daily basis, through literature, history, science… all areas of discovery and joyous participation. What a gift we teachers can give to the children in our classrooms!

And I see it every day. I see it in the lively classroom chats and the lessons that get kids thinking, talking, and laughing. I see it in the way our staff makes time for kids: a health teacher who gives up her lunch to chat with a shy student who needs a safe place to hang out; a math teacher who comes in early to help kids with homework; a paraprofessional who visits with junior high students in the hall about sports, fashion, celebrities, whatever interests them, even patiently listening to long-winded chats about Fortnite or TikTok celebrities!

Kids need this. After a year and a half of periodic isolation and loneliness, the students in our schools have the adults on high alert. We are vigilant. Are they eating? Do they seem too quiet? Have they stopped turning in work? Did they mention they were moving again? The worry is constant.

This is our most important job- being there for kids. It takes a lot of effort and energy to truly be there for kids, as an educator, a mentor, a caretaker and much more.

But, these days, do we have the time and energy to do that oh-so-important job well? I want to say yes. Yes, because it is important, that is what we will do. But, this is a complicated situation. Educators are feeling the strain. The entire system is strained.

The Absence of COVID-19

The Washington State Department of Health issued guidelines for the 2021-2022 school year in regard to how schools may best mitigate the spread of COVID-19 in their facilities.  This document seems to put a tidy bow on the layered measures school can and should take to ensure student health. And yet, the bow is quickly unraveling through no fault of anyone. 

The state has worked hard to help reduce the number of absences students incur due to COVID-19. This makes sense as absences rates correlate greatly with student success. There are no longer such stringent requirements regarding actions surrounding “close-contacts” and healthy students are able to return more quickly to school if they test negative for COVID-19 during an imposed quarantine time. Many schools are even taking advantage of the Learn to Return program offered that allows for schools themselves to do COVID-19 testing onsite. All of this may have worked beautifully if the Delta variant had not hit and changed the playing field.

Continue reading

Relationships First

I’m pretty tired of the term “unprecedented.” At this point, I think educators are just ready to expect the unexpected. Our amazing team of custodians has a saying to cope with each new challenge: “well, it’s normal for this year.” 

Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of uncertainty approaching this school year. How will our community respond to the mask and vaccine mandates? Can we continue to push forward our equity work amidst CRT controversy? What will we do about the inevitable positive cases? How will we sustain our personal mental health and energy in order to make this year a success?

Though we can’t have answers to those questions without living through them, there is one thing I was certain of starting the school year: relationships first. 

Steps Toward a Restorative Classroom 

I’ve heard that phrase “relationships first” in educational spaces so much it has almost become cliche. But, that doesn’t make it any less true, especially this year. During this pandemic (past and present), we know our students have experienced trauma, unsafe homes, isolation, and depression. We know they are coming to us carrying those burdens, and they’re doing their best to cope with omnipresent anxiety, on top of the “normal” stresses of being a teenager. 

This year, I really wanted to challenge myself to make my classroom as student focused as possible. I have always been interested in restorative practices and after I attended a zoom training with the International Institute of Restorative Practices last spring, I set a few goals for myself, starting with setting our classroom community from day one. 

Classroom Circles 

I’ve tried a few classroom circles in the past, but never with any sort of regularity or fidelity. So, this year, I decided to start every class with one. Every single class. Every single day. 

I was nervous the first time, but I was pleasantly surprised by how my students came along with me.  

I have my tables arranged so we can stand in a circle, facing one another, and we pass a little stuffed unicorn (because, why not?) The first time we go around, we say our names and answer the question, without explanation. Then, in round two, they have a chance to expand on their answer. I’ve found this gives students who might not have a quick answer time to think and they can also borrow from their peers if something they said resonates. Saying, “yeah, what Brayden said” is a sneaky clue that they’re practicing active listening and building connections with one another. 

It’s early, but so far, no one has refused to participate (though I did have a teacher anxiety dream where they all stormed out!). Sometimes, students say “I don’t know” and I make sure they know that’s okay. Not every question will resonate with every person, but I try to cover a wide range of interests. 

We then do one last whip around with a quick either/or question before settling back into our seats. 

I have questions ranging from the surface, but very controversial, pancakes or waffles to some that are slightly more revealing like “When you were little, what did you want to be when you grow up?” We’ve also done one word check-ins that can take the temperature of the room in seconds.  

It’s fascinating to watch their personalities come out, even in just the first few weeks. You can tell so much about them not just by what they answer, but how. Does this student give one word answers every time? Does that one want to take over conversation and share their life story? Some of the best answers come from an introverted student who takes us all by surprise with a perfectly insightful answer that makes us all laugh. 

As we start our first unit this week, I am also going to use these circles as a sort of anticipation guide, relating our questions to our content. 

So Far So Good 

I had my first observation of the year Monday morning and in his notes, my administrator highlighted how the classroom feels inclusive, energetic, and comfortable. I greeted students at the door to check in before class started, as I always do. And when the bell rang, they eagerly jumped into the circle before I could even finish sharing our word of the day (indigenous). 

My admin noticed that all students shared in our circle, listened to one another, and showed they felt at ease in my room. He said, “They were all engaged in the lesson, and they were having fun doing it.” 

I feel like that’s about the best I can hope for to start this year. Plus, it’s a solid data point to remind me, later on when schedule pressures feel hectic, that meeting students where they are and caring about them as human beings are all that really matters. 

An Immigrant Story

I moved to the United States in the late 90’s during a wave of Slavic immigration to Washington State. The Soviet Union fell apart and the Eastern European countries under communist control were (and still are) filled with corruption as a result of the socialist dictatorship, offering few opportunities for economic advancement. In Ukraine people today buy test scores and degrees, bribe doctors to receive care despite having nationalized healthcare, and pay off the mafia to operate businesses. Last year my cousin was killed over two dollars. No wonder my parents decided to abandon everything they knew to seek new opportunities in the United States. Like thousands of other Slavs, my family moved to Washington State with nothing to their name.

You’re probably wondering how my personal story relates to school and school policy. For the past few years my district promoted trainings in diversity and equity, challenging staff members to examine their thinking and biases. The trainings coupled with personal experiences and anecdotes from other Slavic teachers and students made me realize that these trainings are often approached from a solely Americanized perspective often not accounting for the immigrant experience.

Trauma-Informed Classrooms for All

There is no denying it. Education is changing due to Covid-19. And, to be honest, it needs to. We have been stuck in a rut for a long time, and much needed change is long overdue. This last year I feel like the veil was lifted, and the dark and ugly side of education was laid bare for all to see. We found out what we strived to achieve was all an illusion.

Equity? We did not have it. Some families had the support, the technology, and the safe and secure space to conduct school at home. Many, maybe most, did not. Do any of us believe that it made no difference before the pandemic?

Engagement? How many of us had the illusion that our content was truly engaging blown away when our Zoom meetings were lightly attended and our remote learners opted out of all of our innovative and personalized resources? If they opt out as soon as they are out of our reach, did we really have their attention?

Achievement? Did our grades and test scores measure the important metrics? What good have they been to us this year? Who still cares about standardized tests? Have we all figured out what we are actually teaching yet? (I’ll give you a hint: It’s not standards.)

As we move back to so-called normal, we need to remember that the old normal no longer exists. More than that, we have changed. We have come through a time of collective trauma, and we can only succeed if we create safe and supportive learning environments for students and teachers.

I am a trauma-informed educator. I grew up with trauma of my own, and I have made a study of trauma-informed teaching practices to better serve my students. I believe this has helped me reinvent my teaching practice this year in ways that supported students and created a safe and secure learning environment. I plan to do more.

I remember when I first learned GLAD (Guided Language Acquisition Design) strategies to better serve my English language learners in class. The selling point was that all students would benefit from them. The same must be said of trauma-informed teaching practices. They will make all students feel more supported, more safe, more able to learn and grow with us.

And, let’s face it; aren’t we all a little traumatized this year?

Students who have experienced trauma feel unsafe in most places, including school. They may have little control of their fear response due to trauma, and when they are under this stress they are less able to learn, to focus, or to regulate their emotions. They may be hyper alert or withdrawn. They may have disruptive behaviors. They may struggle socially, academically, emotionally, and even physically.

Here are some gems I collected from my recent research on trauma-informed classrooms:

  • A 2014 study tells us that 45% of students have experienced some form of trauma. What do you think the numbers are now?
  • All students learn best when they feel safe and supported.
  • A safe, caring, and consistent adult is the best intervention for a child affected by trauma.
  • Both students and teachers must feel psychologically safe in the classroom- no bullying, no judgment, no demeaning behaviors.
  • The key to relationship-building is authentic interactions that respect student voice and perspectives.
  • Trauma-informed discipline requires us to acknowledge the role of trauma in behavior and use appropriate consequences that promote healthier reactions in the future (think restorative justice practices).
  • Self-regulation and mindfulness skills are as important as any curriculum.
  • We can offset stressors with messages of empathy and optimism to support healing and resilience in our students.

I’d add to this list that we should do the following as we reinvent education:

  • Create systems for evaluating student work that are more holistic and less demeaning and/or stress-inducing.
  • Demand discipline systems that respect every child and offer support and encouragement over punishment.
  • Encourage creativity, student choice, physical activity, and all other joyful pursuits.

There is an excellent article from the School-Justice Partnership: Trauma-Informed Classrooms. It is very long, but comprehensive.

If your time is limited, here is a short tip sheet from WestEd for Creating Trauma-Informed Learning Environments.

I would love to see more resources in the comments. I hope that educators all over the state will band together to support our students with new and improved practices- trauma-informed classrooms for all.

Media Literacy: 21st Century Critical Thinking

Divided We Fall?

I’m sure there have been many times in history where it seemed like our country was irreconcilably divided. The Civil War is of course the ultimate example, with the Civil Rights movement closely following. But, all year, I have felt the strains of teaching in a cultural climate that seems both at odds with reality and finally aware of grim truths about our collective history.

I have students whose Google ID photos proudly ask to Make America Great Again , and others who display the light pink and blue flag that signifies their transgender identity. While there are always a wide range of opinions in the classroom, these differences between students feel more like cavernous divides.

 There have been several points in the year, particularly around the presidential election,  where I was a little glad I didn’t have students in class. Glad, at least, that I was the only one who had to read the vitriolic message from a student asking why we have to read about the sanctity of Black lives. Glad I could shield my students of color from his anger and unkind words that were rooted in fear, rather than empathy.  

As a teacher, the line between what is political and what’s appropriate in the classroom is blurry at best. And, when we are all bombarded with media from every angle and avenue, it seems impossible to combat disinformation. 

I’ve always found that teaching media literacy and critical consumption of media is important, but this year, among vaccine skepticism, conspiracy theories about stolen elections, and claims of learning loss, these skills felt even more pressing. My job is not to teach my students what to think, but how

So, this year, when I dove into media literacy and argument writing, I strove to bring the real world into the classroom. If I could prime students to at least pause and critically think about what they consumed, I’d call that a win. 

A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words 

One particularly poignant lesson my student teacher created was around the power of images and captions across different media. 

We went over connotation and denotation, and she then presented examples of images with different captions. She asked students to see how the image and their understanding of it changed based on those differences. 

For example, when students saw these two, several swore that she lightened the second photo because they noticed the brightness of the sun and trees, even though nothing but the caption changed. 

While she created the above image for the purposes of our assignment, I saw and remembered myriad examples in the real world. 

This summer, when protests for racial justice broke out across the country, I paid particular attention to Portland and Seattle where headlines diverged wildly. They were called everything from “Antifa mob” and “riot” to “peaceful demonstrations.”  Without being there, it was hard to parse the truth. Some images depicted Portland burning, while others showed a wall of mourners, holding candles. Two wildly different reports of the same story, with two very different connotations, interpretations, and impacts. 

Then, as we were wrapping up our unit, Biden announced his two trillion dollar spending package, and two different news organizations posted very different accompanying photos. One of Biden, the president, and one of Alexandria Occasio Cortez, even though she wasn’t involved in the legislation and openly said that it was “not nearly enough.” Why, then, was she included in the headline? 

These and subsequent lessons on analyzing images helped students realize the persuasive power that lay in small choices that are far from arbitrary. Captions are short, so every word matters. And yes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and our increasingly shrinking collective attention spans, they might be the most important thing a viewer sees.

Read Between the Lines 

While a caption on a forested trail might not be high stakes, the protests over racial injustice and government spending most certainly are. Students, like most media consumers, are so used to the near constant stream of information that they don’t often take a moment to pause and analyze what they’re seeing. 

Honestly, it was only because I was teaching this unit that those different posts about the infrastructure bill caught my eye. We’re so used to being bombarded with content constantly that it’s hard to remember to stop and think. 

After completing this unit, and her research on defining the police, one student told me she realized the issue was much more nuanced than what she had seen on social media. She went into her research against the movement, but ended up doing her project in favor of defunding. 

As with many well meaning, surface level media consumers, she understood the issue to be a false dilemma between police state or mass chaos, and she was actually fairly shocked when she learned more details. 

I don’t want my students to become cynical, but I do want them to recognize when they are being sold a bill of goods. I want them to understand how words and images intentionally play together to convince a specific audience. I hope these lessons at least helped them think twice. 

And, amidst rampant misinformation, fears, and theories around COVID vaccinations, I’d like to run an adult refresher course too, while I’m at it. 

 

Supporting Intellectual Pursuits through a Wide Range of Academically Rigorous Clubs

Chess made me think of my high school’s clubs. I went to Los Gatos High School in the Silicon Valley, and I wanted to see if the offerings at my alma mater would appeal to the Highly Capable (HC) kids I teach. Plus, I wanted to share offerings your school might not have thought of.

Like other students, intellectually advanced students take part in a wide variety of extracurricular activities:

  • athletics
  • arts
  • ASB
  • drama
  • music
  • yearbook

Adults tend to recommend service clubs to HC students, like:

Continue reading

Finding Hope in the Remote Wilderness

Since the Coronavirus pandemic began in March 2020, teachers and students have been thrust into remote learning. A year has passed since classrooms have become Zoom rooms and while some students are starting to go back, others continue to learn from home — creating an opportunity to reflect on this journey.

An article titled “The Crushing Reality of Zoom School” had the tagline:, “We’re only a few weeks in. We can’t keep doing this.” This was an interesting read because at the time of the article (September 2020) we had no idea how things were going to play out. The author talked about the toll “Zoom school” was taking on families, and the difficulties his children faced engaging with online learning.

However, I had one striking takeaway: the lines between home and school have become infinitely blurred. The author wrote, “There’s a lot of humanity visible through the Zoom windows. Every day we log on—teachers, children, parents—and, invited or not, we enter tiny portals into each other’s lives.”

Remote schooling has invaded students’ most personal parts of their lives without their consent. Students with complicated home lives suddenly found their peers joining them in spaces they wouldn’t normally share with the world. For many, their personal spaces were gone. In turn, cameras went off, participation dropped, and for some, showing up to school was no longer an option for them.

As an educator, teaching to little black squares was disheartening. With lack of nonverbal communication, we struggled to know if our students were connecting to anything we were saying, or worse yet, if they were even physically at their computer. But, it’s not our place to force ourselves into spaces we wouldn’t normally be in or command that we be welcomed into those spaces.

Continue reading

Giving Grace around Graduation

Earlier this month, Governor Inslee signed into law a bill intended to start a chain of events that I’m optimistic will lead straight to the students I teach.

EHB 1121 essentially authorizes the State Board of Education to establish procedures for local schools to grant credit waivers to certain graduation credits on a case-by-case basis for students impacted by events beyond their control.

There are several things I like about this. One, it isn’t limited to this year: it establishes a protocol which can be applied when a student’s education was impacted by local, state, or national emergencies.

Two, this part: School districts may be authorized to “grant individual student emergency waivers from credit and subject area graduation requirements established in RCW 28A.230.090, the graduation pathway requirement established in RCW 28A.655.250, or both” (page 2, lines 7-10 of the law as passed, which you can read here).

That last authorization is key to authentic flexibility. There are a variety of ways that students may have been impacted this year, and the “waivers from credit and subject area” requirements will hopefully give us some leeway. Some kids might have engaged in their art electives because it helped them cope with what was going on in their world, but might have struggled with distance-learning chemistry class. Conversely, another might have thrown themselves into the latter and felt unequipped to engage in the personal vulnerability that might have been plumbed in the former. The language about “credit and subject area” waivers allows us to take either situation into consideration, and not withhold a diploma from a student who was not able to check the box next to that last art or science credit.

While I do believe that the graduation pathways were a positive step forward, I am relieved that they are included in the waiver, since their nascency in policy might have meant that the COVID years would have been their first attempt at full implementation in many districts.

Bigger than all of this, though, is what the need for this bill reveals about our high school graduation credit system as it is.

Continue reading