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.

It’s Bad. And It Keeps Coming Back.

Eugenics.

It’s the idea that we can create better human beings by encouraging the breeding of the higher class people and discouraging the breeding of the lower class people.

There are all kinds of pseudosciences. Eugenics is the one that makes my blood run cold.

In the early 1900s eugenicists in the United States focused on weeding out “undesirables”—poor, immigrant, minority families.

Sound familiar?

Fast-forward to 1994. Richard J. Herrnstein and Charles Murray wrote a book called The Bell Curve: Intelligence and Class Structure in American Life. Now, more than a decade later, the book has gotten a new and highly critical write-up in The Vox because of the influence Murray is having on current US policy. There’s a lot not to like in The Bell Curve, but I’m going to focus on one aspect that has an impact on teachers in the classroom.

Here is one quote from the book:

The technically precise description of America’s fertility policy is that it subsidizes births among poor women, who are also disproportionately at the low end of the intelligence distribution. We urge generally that these policies, represented by the extensive network of cash and services for low-income women who have babies, be ended.

Basically, stop any program that gives assistance to low-income families. Because that just encourages them to breed. And we don’t want any additional poor, unintelligent people being added to our population.

That’s eugenics rearing up its ugly head again.

It’s not just a theory in a book from the 90s. The bad political philosophy of eugenics (it’s not a science) is being applied to governmental policy right now.

That’s why you have leaders in the federal and state levels of government attempting to roll back Medicaid expansion, tighten eligibility requirements for and reduce enrollment in the Department of Health and Human Services, and make it harder for individuals to access Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits.

Here’s the truth. Eugenics doesn’t work.

What does work? Giving moms good pre-natal care. Making sure moms and their children get good nutrition. Making sure they have a healthy environment, free of lead, pesticides, mercury. Making sure children are in a safe environment, free from sexual and physical abuse. Providing children with a warm and nurturing home.

Parents who have plenty of money have the means to provide all of the above. That doesn’t guarantee they necessarily have the will or the character to provide them, although The Bell Curve assumes they will.

What the authors ignore is that moms in general want all those things for their children, whether they can afford them or not.

I’ve seen some of those “poor” moms. The dads are gone, leaving the moms on their own with the kids. The moms are working full time. They’ve gone back to school to try to get a better job. They’ve maybe had to declare bankruptcy. I’ve seen them standing in the grocery store trying to figure out the most nutritious food that they can afford to feed their children. They are doing everything they can on their own. And they still need help.

Let me tell you a personal story. My husband graduated and interviewed for a job back at the beginning of the 80s. He was hired on a Thursday afternoon. He called the next day to get the details about starting. They said, “So sorry. We just got a call from corporate. There’s a hiring freeze. We can’t give you that job after all.”

I had already quit my job. I was pregnant. We spent eight months without work. We applied for work in multiple states. There was no work to be found.

In the end, my husband got a job with a friend of his father’s, and we moved back with his family.

That’s not the main point of the story. The real point? I was visiting with a woman a month or two later, sitting in her kitchen. She made a comment about a man she had seen by the side of the road with a sign “Will work for food.”

“Oh,” she said. “Those people just annoy me. Everyone knows you can get a job if you really want one.”

I had to take a really deep breath before I could answer her. And, bless her, she was willing to listen to me.

I wonder if the authors of The Bell Curve ever heard from people like my husband and me? Both of us with MA degrees. Both of us out of work for eight months straight. Both of us wanting work, and neither of us able to find work.

I wonder if some of the current policy-makers have any understanding of “poor” beyond the stereotypes they’ve been fed.

All right, now consider all the things we are learning about Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs). Multiple major stressors in childhood rewire the brain to an almost continuous “flight or fight” response, which makes it difficult for the child to function in a school setting.

The more we, as a culture, invest in prenatal and neonatal care for the poor among us and the more we support mothers with young children, the fewer students with ACEs we will have in our classrooms. Then in the long run, the more likely it is that those children will grow up to be well-adjusted, civic-minded, and contributing members of society.

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.

Out of My Hands…

I teach middle school in the upper reaches of NE Washington. In our district, let’s just say there are a certain number of families where the belief is that Scientific Theories are “just theories…” and “scientist are always changing their minds on stuff – why should we believe in them at all?” Both of these widely held and openly expressed sentiments are easily corrected in my classroom with lessons on the definition of scientific theory and the nature of science being that of change. Yet, with the words, “My grandpa says you’re a liar. There is no climate change – it is just the weather,” blurted out from a freckle-faced middle-schooler ringing in my mind, it does not always feel a real easy space and place for the exploration of evolution, carbon footprints, and the beginning of a Universe based on physics.

For a long time, I viewed my predicament of trying to teach the more politicized aspects of science education as just that…a predicament. I approached this quandary in a myriad of ways – mostly reflective of my own growth as a science educator. In my early years, I only briefly touched on the topics, hoping students would know just enough to do well on the test, but not place so much importance on them as to have students go home and start a discussion with their families on the topics…which would (egads!) become a conflict between myself and the parents.

Eventually, I realized that teaching biology without a deeper understanding of the adaptability of genetics over time, learning about climates without understanding the interplay between humans and our atmosphere, or never addressing the most mind-blowing question of, “What was here before what was here?” was hollow learning at best and a disservice to my students, my community and ultimately our nation as a whole at its worst. My students, all of our students, will be the next generation of voters deciding the fate of our populous; a fate more and more tied to a clear understanding of the sciences.

For these reasons, I am so very grateful and appreciative of both our state’s adoption of the Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS) and its continuing support of these standards. In a technical sense, these standards provide clear frameworks for teachers to know what they are expected to teach; the Theory of Evolution, Climate Change, the Big Bang Theory, and much more. The standards are well-crafted, with concepts building one upon another over the course of a K-12 education and resulting in a fact-based understanding of the Big Ideas of Science. All are threaded throughout by a need for inquiry-based learning and exploration of the topics; an eloquent design resulting in solid scientific literacy.

Not only that, but actual FUNDING is coming through the pipeline in support of full implementation of the standards in our state! For instance, our state’s 2018 budget has created Science Standards Pro Learning Funding, which provides grants to school districts and educational service districts to support professional learning in the Next Generation Science Standards. This funding is designed to be in direct support of training on climate change literacy.

Yet, the impact of these standards is far more powerful and subtle for many rural educators. These standards EMPOWER science teachers to teach science. In essence, I am not “choosing” to teach these topics to “ruin” the morals of children or divide the community, as per messages scribbled to me from a parent on a progress report. No, I am required to teach these topics and my feet are held to the fire to do so by Washington Comprehensive Assessment of Science. I can no longer shy away from the science topics I know may cause an issue because our school will be impacted by low tests scores. I simply must teach them.

It is out of my hands…and now in the minds of our next generation of citizens.

Rethinking Grades and Grade Levels

Sal Khan

Most of you are likely familiar with Khan Academy. Khan Academy is an online tutorial program, offering support in Math and other subjects. According to Sal Khan, founder of Khan Academy, he developed the website after determining, through tutoring his family members in math, that educators are limited by time and the educational system to meet the individual needs of the students in their classrooms. At first, he created his online learning platform so his family could access his math tutorials when he was not in town. He eventually expanded the endeavor and opened access to anyone with an internet connection. In his words he wants “a world class education for anyone, anywhere.” Khan Academy is now used in many classrooms as an additional support for students to either access during class or from home.

Since going worldwide, Sal Khan conjectured that because of his success in tutoring through Khan Academy, maybe his ideas would also work in a brick and mortar school. This led to the creation of the Khan Lab School in Mountain View, California. Originally, the Lab School focused on online learning. They soon discovered, however, that the key impact on student learning is the teacher. With this understanding they rethought their program model and brought in teachers to facilitate student learning. Once they shifted the model, they saw positive outcomes for students. This is a very important point to note.

A couple of additional things to know about the Lab School – First, it is a private school with a large price tag to attend. Second, the Lab School serves a highly affluent community, not only because of the high price of tuition, but also because it serves the families in Silicon Valley. This second element calls into question the efficacy of the program. In its current iteration, it fails to serve our most challenging students. It is easy to prove a program works when it is implemented in an area and with students who guarantee success. I, personally, would love for Mr. Khan, to take this idea and implement it in the most challenging school in San Francisco or Oakland to really test the efficacy of the program. It is only in our most challenging environments that we can truly see how an innovative program works.

With all of my skepticism, there is one particular aspect of the Khan Lab School which I believe would benefit our most underserved students, and with careful planning, could be implemented in our public schools – the Khan Lab grading system. It is unique and non-punitive. What Khan Lab School has done is remove grade levels and the standard letter-grade system, instead focusing on mastery and independence levels.

Rather than assign students to a grade-level based on their age, students demonstrate mastery of content. Students are provided a rubric through which they must show ability in both knowledge and skill, according to a specific standard of learning. Students can assess mastery whenever they and their teachers determine they are ready. This means that if a study is at a second grade reading level, but fifth grade math, they are able to study both subjects at their mastery levels. This provides students a flexible timeline through which they may master content at an appropriate rate for their individual needs and teachers are better able to differentiate instruction for each of their students.

A student’s independence level determines how much autonomy s/he has in learning. Independence is also measured on a rubric and assessed when both the student and teacher deem the student is ready. Khan Lab School calls student schedules a “playlist.” Students have certain classes assigned to them based on their mastery, but then there are several spaces left open for students themselves to determine their classes for the week. In their first year at the Lab School there are no open spaces in a student’s “playlists.” As the student moves up independence levels, more spaces open for the student to control her/his trajectory through school. This is extremely empowering, as students are learning to be self-starters, that they have agency, how to advocate for themselves and take control of their learning and their futures.

Group of Friends Smiling

I believe this way of rethinking grades and grade levels would be powerful for all students, especially our most underserved. Imagine implementing a grade system that honors students’ abilities, encourages and teaches independence, and creates a growth mindset in students by developing a focus on their assets, rather than on their deficits. Now imagine a system in which thought leaders, like Sal Khan, endeavored to implement their innovations not in an exclusive school, but in a school accessible to all students, a public school. Students of all backgrounds and abilities would be empowered. Just imagine…

Has your district and/or school been creative with grading students? What are your thoughts on the Khan Lab School mastery and independence levels? Can we make something like this work in our public schools? Why? Share your thoughts and opinions in a comment below. Let’s start the conversation.

Consent Between Students

Physical touch between sixth graders is not uncommon – they’re all over each other, and mostly in a friendly, playful way. I recently instituted a “one person per chair” rule in my classroom, as a trend towards seat-sharing started taking root. Some of these instances were clearly flirtatious, but more often they were between friends, and much harder to classify. Early middle school is a lot like early elementary developmentally – they’re handsy, affectionate, full of emotions.  

But touch gets complicated in and out of the classroom, and the #metoo movement has brought up countless discussions about the nuances of consent. How do I teach students, particularly boys, about responsible, caring ways to interact physically with others?

Last week I heard a commotion: my 8th grade Teaching Assistant was demanding that a student – let’s call him “Sam” – apologize to a nearby female student, “Elena.”  He had pulled her hair, and my T.A. was reacting loudly and vehemently, while Elena walked away from the situation. Not surprisingly, this all happened right as the bell rang. I talked with my T.A. to learn what they witnessed, and I talked with Sam privately (in the hall during class) the next day. He said they were just playing around, that Elena didn’t mind. “How do you know she didn’t mind?” I asked. His response: “We’re friends.”

I tried, strategically, to word my response in a way that didn’t put him in a defensive position that would shut down the possibility for learning. “Sam, I’ve known you for a few months, and I’ve seen you be a great friend. But even if you mean something playfully, it might feel like a violation of personal space to someone else.” He agreed, promised to talk with Elena, moved on. My T.A. was satisfied that I took it seriously.

But then, a few days later, I noticed Sam tickling a male student at his table. This time I got more to the point: “Sam, did you ask for his consent before touching him?” The other student giggled and said, “It’s ok – we’re friends!” I snapped to my senses and pointed out that tickling doesn’t belong in a classroom anyway. They were both smiling and participating – does that count as consent?

In cases of sexual touch, Washington State law is clear around Standards of Conduct for Students: “…consent must be clear, knowing, and voluntary. Anything less is equivalent to a ‘no’…Consent is active; silence or passivity is not consent.”

The wording leaves no room for nuance, and rightly so: anything short of an explicit “yes” is equivalent to non-consent. As early adolescents explore all kinds of touch, I’m struggling to help shape students that won’t be the next generation of sexual harassers…or worse. There are many opportunities for social development in the art classroom while students collaborate, share experiences from their lives, analyze artwork and consider bias and privilege. Social learning happens when they’re in a bad mood, and trying to share tape or scissors! As they interact and learn about the impact of their behaviors on others, how do I teach them to really listen when others are communicating boundaries? Sometimes boundaries are communicated with a smile, between “friends,” because the other person is so uncomfortable that it is too hard to say “no” with a serious tone. Or the social capital that would be lost with firm “no” keeps a girl silent.

In “Do You Think I’m Pretty: Consent as Community,” Reina Gattuso writes, “We tend to talk about consent ‘as an individual process,’ not asking ‘What kinds of power are operating in this situation?’ but only ‘Did you or did you not say yes?”

That resonates for me as key to my students’ understanding of respectful, consensual, GOOD touch now and in their futures: What kinds of power are operating in this situation? What power do you have in relation to the person you want to touch?

I don’t plan to center these questions as the learning target of a unit or lesson plan. But I will try to incorporate these questions as I help students navigate social relationships in class. The power relationship aspect is connected to our class discussions about cultural appropriation in art, and it’s the reason that a boy can’t pull a girl’s hair without her abundant, enthusiastic “yes.” Even then, he needs to watch for non-verbal cues that she wants him to stop. (And no, hair pulling doesn’t belong in class anyways.)

Even at age 12, there is an imbalance of power between boys and girls, and I won’t have boys assuming “yes” or even hearing “yes” when a girl means “no.” Social norms around consent continue to change. As our understanding grows regarding the vast ways that privilege and power shape daily life between us, I hope our boys get better and better at physical touch that empowers others. And stick to one person per seat in class!

Hiding in the Classroom

As a teacher, I often hide.

Sometimes I hide from my students – during my plan period, I might sit far away from the door in a corner desk, just so I can get work done with no distractions.  Sometimes I hide from my colleagues – last year, my first year back in the classroom after five years, I taught in a part of the school removed from the main building, so it was easy to keep to myself, away from any drama and school gossip.  This physical isolation also meant few district visitors, drop ins from other staff members, and general glances in from adults in the hallways.  This year, in a new room, much closer to the action, I feel more connected to the culture of the school, but I also feel more exposed.

One of the values of my school is “visibility.”  We seek to make our students’ thinking visible (especially through the work of Ron Ritchhart and Project Zero’s Visible Thinking work) and we are working towards making our own work more visible to each other.  And this visibility often means vulnerability.  Throughout the day, even though I project a strong, outgoing personality, I often feel vulnerable in front of my students.  On some days, it takes all my energy to put myself together to make it through the day, and I work to hide that vulnerability from students.   So being visible and vulnerable in front my colleagues is another level of challenge.

For me, this visibility is part of my daily teaching life as I co-teach all my classes with an Exceptional Needs Specialist.  (See my post on co-teaching.)  I can’t hide, even when I want to.  I can’t hide the days when I’m inconsistent in disciplining students.   I can’t hide when I don’t have a full “bell to bell” lesson ready, and the kids are packing up early.   I can’t hide how few kids turn in homework assignments for the class.  I can’t hide when I resort to calling on the same students.   I can’t hide when I move on with the next skill, even when I know some students are still struggling.  I can’t hide when I am just in a bad mood and I don’t want to be there that day.

This commitment to visibility stepped up even more this year as our school has teachers take turns serving as an l Instructional Coach each Wednesday, coming into classes for short observations.  (See Hope Teague-Bowling’s post on this practice.) These new visitors bring a heightened sense of vulnerability.  My co-teacher knows my strengths and weaknesses already – but what are these new folks going to think?

During each of these visits, I felt embarrassed at different moments… why did that kid have to whisper about me to his friend during class?   Why did that one group of students show such reluctance in participating in our activity?  Why did a handful of kids pick this day to be so tired?

But for all my vulnerability and flushed red cheeks, I realize that all of this visibility makes me a more effective teacher.   

My co-teacher helps me recognize when I am inconsistent with discipline so that I can be more consistent.   She helps me diagnose why our homework return rate is low and problem solve so that we can improve it.  She takes over the heavy lifting on the days when I’m just not all there so that our students can continue to learn.

These Instructional Coaches script what the students is saying about me so that I can talk with my administrator about appropriate next steps.   They encourage me to see the reasons why a group might not want to participate so that I can engage them the next time.  They remind me of all the beauty in the groups that did participate so that I will be encouraged to continue and give the activity another try another day.   They remind me that their students are tired too so that I don’t feel so alone in the work.

And perhaps thats the reason for visibility.  To remind us that we arnot alone.  The latter statement can be taken as a strong reminder that we have a duty to each other and our students to be effective educators.  We are all watching each other – we won’t let anyone slide.   And the statement can be taken as an encouragement that we are partners in the work and that many others are facing the same challenges.

There’s no need to hide.

We’d Rather Have Tape

From I Don’t Know How to Protect You Anymore to Don’t Make Me a Soldier to the #ArmMeWith hashtags, teachers clearly want to be involved in the conversation about making our schools safer—and we don’t want to carry a gun.

After one especially long day, my husband tweeted out this….

 

 

 

 

And within hours over 300 replies from across the country (note the themes). Here are some of the tweets:

  • Tape
  • I need so much tape
  • An internet filter that doesn’t violate the free speech rights of my students researching current topics
  • Tissues
  • Tape
  • A pencil sharpener that is industrial strength
  • Scissors that stand up to repeatedly cutting cardboard
  • More guidance counselors and instructional coaches
  • Thumbtacks, field trips, 40 hour work weeks
  • Tape
  • Granola bars and vegetables
  • A psychologist
  • A counseling team and a separate registration team
  • Tape
  • A stapler that won’t run away in less than a week
  • Enough SPED teachers
  • Pencils, lots of pencils
  • When I was a SPED teacher in a Behavior Support room, I needed good Reading Curriculum.
  • A gun in the room would not help ever
  • Copier, copier, copier, a classroom that’s warmer than 58 degrees, toner, copier
  • Mold free rooms and leak proof ceilings
  • Some tape?
  • Internet that works in more than two classrooms at a time
  • A pencil sharpner that lasts more than a school year
  • A roof that doesn’t leak
  • More than a class set of whatever novel we’re reading
  • Support for kids who are most “At-risk”
  • Whiteboard markers for students
  • Counselors. Glue sticks that don’t dry up.
  • A book budget
  • Enough copy paper to last the year
  • Hand soap
  • I don’t mean to sound greedy but a really sturdy 3-hole punch would be amazing
  • Real food that is cooked at school, not USDA prepacked food that tastes gross and isn’t healthy
  • Bathroom breaks
  • More markers!
  • Classroom Autonomy
  • Professional development
  • Tape
  • Lead-free water fountains, soft lights in classrooms, and markers, lots of markers
  • Increased salaries for all teachers and support staff, more counselors, a lunch break.
  • More than 3 min to pee
  • Cameras that were functional, heat and AC that worked.
  • Money to buy food for my students who have little at home
  • New books
  • Tape
  • I’d like to have the rodent situation death with. And my office to be checked for mold.
  • A reliable pencil sharpner
  • Shoes for the kids who don’t have them
  • Enough counselors/social workers
  • More tissues
  • You got a copier?

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