Ed Blog pt. 24 - 5 Things in 5 Days: Rubrics (Day 3)
Rubrics are not impartial.
Read MoreWriter | Podcaster | Reviewer
The thoughts, writings, and recordings of The Real Tom Bratt
Rubrics are not impartial.
Read MoreSometimes a spade is a spade.
Read More10 Things in 5 Days. There's Always a Flip-side.
Read MoreWe need to talk about this in a better way, so as to help all students.
Read MoreThis one is dear to my heart. It is for MLK and the march for equality.
Read MorePt. 2 And Shit
Phones were simply the example that I happened upon in my first year of teaching. This was all circumstance, the same as will happen to many teachers in coming years. Maybe one way to think of it is through mention of the printing press.
Prior to the printing press, it was very difficult and expensive to get things on paper to the masses. 500 years after the advent of the printing press, we cannot imagine not having that thing. But even more than that, we think we can now do it a lot better through electronics. They would have never guessed that most people would have a printer in their house, and that paper would be used for virtually everything. When you walk in most organizations, you're greeted by stacks of paper in all forms. So what, for them, was beyond a dream, for us is very commonplace. So commonplace in fact, that we may go beyond paper at some point.
But paper, phones, and any individual issue is not even close to the point. The point is that things evolve and change, and our job - right now - is to make this particular step in the journey a good one. We are only responsible for our step, but if we're not careful, it could be a step backward. That's why phones and shit do matter. So much energy and discussion centered on the phones being bad, that years passed before technology as a whole was embraced by many people in education. Which begs the question: where else does this happen? Where else does it occur that backward thinking leads negative results?
Here are some ways: (Structure 1. Indicates the problem, bullet point indicated the reason, ex. uses an example)
1. A shitty teacher has been with a district for 26 years. They never had a good principal, never had an honest evaluation, and when they finally do, they're in their 26th year of teaching. Yet, because of their tenure, firing them would be very hard. Admin says: we can't do anything until they retire.
2. A school has a policy where they'll accept anyone as a student at any time during the school year / current session. Three or four times a year, they get a bunch of 'new students' and all celebrate these new students.
3. The curriculum does not inspire the kids. The textbooks are old, the novels are irrelevant, the content is dated and boring. Yet, because a 'curriculum expert' came up with it, they stay with this curriculum for years.
These are all just simple examples of things that don't work, hence: shit. But the specifics do not matter.
What matters is how we tackle the problem.
Although we don't know what they'll be, we do know that problems will come up. One example of this where I live - though this isn't the place to delve too deeply into - is the reading fluency of African Americans in the State of Michigan. This is abysmal, and very problematic. It's also racist. But rather than label and shame, our state must do something about this. (Why I say this isn't the place for a deep dive into the topic is that it's much bigger than simply a 'school' issue. But, it's a good place to start because since many African American children attend the schools, it would be a great place to deal with a large part of the problem.)
One problem that almost all underperforming districts face is that 'their' students come to them behind. From a young age, this starts. Research goes in many different directions on how to deal with this, and one way was like this:
One solution bad districts choose is this: add time to the school day. Their logic goes as follows:
This is problematic for the same reason that giving a lump sum of cash to a habitual spender will not get them out of debt: it is the habits, not the result that needs treating. The ole, teach a man to fish.
Here is why simply adding time to the a class period does not ensure learning. One district, to make sure that students were getting more learning time, upped their classes from 45-minutes to an hour. The problem is that an hour is about the worst amount of time to teach. It's too long for one lesson, and not long enough for two. Some research shows students attention capacity is about 45-minute, and so many schools do 45 or 90 minute classes and blocks. With the hour, often there was an issue where you finished one lesson, but couldn't move on very well to the next. Or, the next day you'd spend a bunch of time reteaching. Additionally, most of the behavioral problems occurred in the last 10-15 minutes of class. Some research suggests that 45-minutes is the ideal time to maximize attention. But these things were never brought up. When I questioned class length, the only thing people said was 'we need more time in seats'.
But bad time is wasted time. Rather, we must tackle the problem, the actual problem.
Thoughts on last year, goal for next year!
Read MoreHow we react to something new matters.
Read MoreLeaders must take care of their entire person: mind, body, spirit. This post is a case for, and examples of, doing just that.
Read MoreStudents that need the most, deserve to be taught by whole, healthy, competent people.
Read MoreLeBron James is my alltime favorite athlete. There's not even really a close second. This is only one reason: But more than an athlete, he may be the human I respect the most.
But more than an athlete, he may be the human I respect the most. There are many reasons for that, but among the top are:
This series has been all about how we can improve our educational system. It's looked at theory and practice, and: this is the perfect example of how to do both.
Mr. James is doing this in his hometown, in a system he knows, in a neighborhood he understands.
He is providing support at just the age when others stop. He has also put the foundation in place for when these students are in college.
Again, Mr. James and his vision to execute will tangibly change the lives of people. This is an example we should all follow.
Thank you Mr. James, Thank you.
Another example of a great teacher is a teacher named Nicole. I was lucky enough to work with her for four years, and she was very good. The thing that set her apart was that she knew she was destined to be a teacher. When she was young, she'd play school and make it relevant to her play dates. So for her, showing up to school is living her dream job. And students love her. They don't simply like and respect her, she's rather the rare one that can connect.
Since she's doing her passion, teaching, she does really cool things. She has her students act in plays, do things in the community, and take part if very meaningful field trips.
While students love her, some teachers were threatened. The ones that were threatened were the older teachers that had been doing their thing for a while with very mixed results; so when a younger, enthusiastic teacher came in, had instant success, and showed a fast-track to being the lead: they were threatened. They talked shit. Tried to beat her down. Insulted her practice. Called her young. Made insinuations. But she didn't cave.
Instead, she brought her A-game (more on that here: Get your foot in the door and bring your a-game. Great podcast. Please rate and review on iTunes.) After a few months, the older teachers shit-talking got bland and boring, and Nicole was still relevant and fresh. So they started asking her questions, taking her advice, and even became better teachers.
Nicole was asked to be the chair of her department and led meetings with the same enthusiasm. She did very well. I applaud Nicole. We'd be just fine if we were all like her.
If Dan (real name) is great, P and Q (not real names, masked genders, hence alternating between his/her) are terrible. They represent the worst kind of teachers. And in both of their cases, they've been teaching for years.
P is the know it all. P wouldn't be successful on her own, if he didn't work at a school. The reason this the case is because she likes her classroom because of the power bubble it creates. Inside that room, he makes all the rules. No one can question him. This power makes her feel special, masking an otherwise sad life. He uses this power to ask and answer questions, and make teenagers feel stupid for not knowing. P says, "Alex, do you know why April 16, 1927 was so important?" Alex says no. P responds, "That's because you don't know anything, and will never amount to anything." Alex sits there. Finally, Alex blows up and P gets Alex suspended. He goes to the teacher's lounge talking about how bad children are getting, uses her exchange with Alex as proof, and gets sympathy from other bad teachers. Meanwhile, Alex debates dropping out and spends his suspension wondering why am I bad?
Q is P's opposite, but he his her partner in missing the mark. Q is "successful" because she hasn't been fired. Q outlasted all the administrations before him, has been in many schools in the district, and is pretty much untouchable by the union. He is very well meaning, and willing to go above and beyond for his students. Unfortunately, this means giving answers to her students on tests, making their assignments way too easy, and thereby making students think they are dumb. Q will be in class with another teacher, and right after the teacher explains something, Q will dumb it down, way down. He thinks he's helping, but the students are confused. They easily understood the teacher's comments and instructions, but this older teacher made them feel like they didn't get it. I must be slow, the students think. Another part of the problem is that Q had success a long time ago, and very good success with a few students. Thus, Q always refers to his success in all meetings, "Well, when I helped Alex with her assignment, she ended up in college." The problem is that Alex is now 40, has five kids, and Q hasn't had that type of success since. Unfortunately, though, Q doesn't realize this. To her, the "Alex story" is present day. And since he did it with Alex, then he can do it with more students. In fact, she's so success, she should train many student teachers, lead many workshops, and take any leadership role. His place there makes all these things worse and everyone waits for him to retire.
P and Q have each taught thousands of people. Every year, P has made people think they are bad and Q has made people think they are dumb. No one stops them.
This must stop.
At least 50% of the people I've taught with have been bad teachers.
It wasn't something I noticed right away. Your first few years teaching, you're too busy to notice. But once I knew what I was doing, I was able to recognize those who did not. And once I started noticing, it became very hard to stop. Bad teachers are typically vocal, often brag about their class without being asked, and are a major reason our educational system is failing. Bad teachers often have these things in common: they're unkempt, they're terrible listeners, they believe they are the center of the classroom, and they are not active in their field.
Why I got into teaching was a blend of the summers off and my love of books. I thought it would be good to be interacting with literature on a daily basis, and I could have the summers to write. That has always been, and is still, my goal. I like high school kids, and interacting with them, so it was a good fit in a lot of ways. I chose the subject of English because I love the written word. Words, grammar, sentence structure, all of it is interesting to me. So, whenever a student or colleague would ask why I wanted to be a teacher, I gave some variation of that answer. When I did, often something odd would happen that may go like this:
"I got in to teaching for my love of books, and so I could have the summers off to write," I'd share.
Another English teacher would say, "I love reading, too."
"Cool," I'd respond. "Have you read anything good recently?"
Most of the time, maybe 80%, I'd be told, "Oh, I don't have time to read."
"What?" I'd reply, "really?"
They'd say this as a very natural thing, like they do not have the time to do a thing they love. A thing they teach. It's much worse with writing. I've been actively working on something since 2004. I can only remember two other teachers that have been doing the same. When you get into other subjects, it gets much worse. The exception seems to be art, music, and (maybe) gym. Art and music teachers are often creating things, or active in their fields, which makes their classes some of the best. People will say they're fun because they're easy grades and electives, but I'd argue that it's because a passion naturally comes from a teacher that is active in his or her field.
Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for a student to go to a class where their history teacher hasn't delved into history since college, their science teacher hasn't done an experiment since the lab, their math teacher hasn't been active except Sudoku, and their English teacher hasn't read a book.
No joke.
No wonder their classes suck.
A bigger problem comes because these teachers think they're experts because they took 30 hours of college credits, but they haven't had any accomplishments or experience in their actual field.
Here are a few examples:
I could go on.
Two entries from now is one on heath and wellness, but the teaching staffs in many bad schools are some of the unhappiest people I've ever met. Very few look alive, and even fewer are healthy. These people should not be molding the youth.
Teachers need to be actively pursuing their craft. This could be listening to Podcasts, reading books/blogs, making art, working out / playing sports, writing, researching, taking classes. If we're not getting better, we're getting passed up. If this is you and you feel overworked, underpaid, or uninspired about it, do something else. What? Be like Dan.
I worked with a guy named Dan. We taught a summer class together, and he had a major impact on me. He probably does not remember me, and I cannot remember his last name. He was so good with the kids, and was a great teacher. In a setting where most students failed, Dan could reach them all. He was passionate, kind, talented, fair, and also firm. Students respected him.
Toward the end of the summer, we got to talking. We got along quite well, and would often talk for a while after class. I'd been noting more and more how much better of a teacher he was then me, and so I just asked him: "How do you do it?"
"Learning something new is hard," he told me. I asked him to go on. "I think a lot of us forget how hard it is, and how much time it takes to learn a new skill. To remember that, I try learning something new every two years." His current skill was painting, and he was having a hell of a time doing a water color self portrait. He wasn't a good painter, but trying make him realize how hard it was to learn this thing. His painting teacher had patience with him, and he passed that on to his students. This had a transformative effect on his class.
Dan's view was that all teachers should learn a new skill. He thought doing so would make all of us compassionate, and I totally agree. Since that conversation in 2006, I've tried to do something like that myself. When you try and fail at something performance based, you become naturally more compassionate. More kind. More understanding. Your students notice this, and it benefits everyone.
We should all be like Dan.
There are ten parts left in this series on education, and the first of these ten is going to mark a bit of a stylistic difference. Rather than giving overviews of School in general, I'm going to give examples and then tie them in to larger things, or allow the reader to tie them into larger things. You'll notice that I'm not giving advice on elementary or middle school, because I do not know much about them. But I do get high school, and will be focusing on high school, and my experience therein, for the next few posts.
The best lesson that I've ever taught happened in evening school. This was a 2.5 hour a day, 4-day a week, 8-week class where students could make up credit. Being there meant that they'd failed during the day, which meant that typical school wasn't always reaching these kids. To me, this meant you had to approach them in a different way. A lot of times, the situation that caused a kid to fail was something personal, a battle they were facing, a point they were trying to make, or something along those lines. It wasn't uncommon to ask a kid, "Why did you fail the first time?" and be told, "Fuck that teacher. She didn't like me, so I wasn't going to pass her class."
This logic may not hold up to rule followers, but it did to an entire group that was also failing. They saw it like this: that teacher doesn't like me, believe in me, or care about me, so I'm not going to care about what they're doing. Think of it more like a boycott.
So, after hearing a bunch of things like this, an idea came to me. I shut the door, pretended to lock it, and made a real dramatic show that the lesson I was about to give could get me in trouble. Then I gave this assignment (keep in mind this was an English class, and many of the students never wrote): write about the worst teacher you've ever had. Tell me - in detail - why you don't like them, and I'm not going to censor for content of language. This is you, writing to us, giving your opinion. If you share this opinion, you'll get full credit, but you have to be honest. And, you have to be silent and write the entire time, (which I think was 25 minutes). If you do that, I told them, you'll get an A.
As soon as I set the timer, the kids began writing furiously. Almost all of the wrote the entire time. When the timer went off, one kid - a kid that almost never asked questions - said, "Is it okay if I finish, or do I have to stop now?"
That was a win.
This was a kid that had failed a writing class, yet I was able to get him to not only finish an assignment, but to want to do more than was asked.
Then we shared.
I did put the parameters that they couldn't say the teacher's name. They also couldn't swear in a way that was demeaning. So, they could say "I was so fucking mad" but they couldn't say, "That teacher's a fucking bitch". This is a pretty big distinction.
They shared their work for about 45-minutes. Class ended not too long after the sharing, and kids said goodbye as they filed out the door, and went home in a pretty good mood.
People will have different reactions to that story. Some people will hear it and say that I'm a bad teacher. (They'll probably say: no wonder you were fired). They'll say there was no objective, no 'lesson', no standards, no rubric, and no discipline. They'd look at this as an assignment from a teacher that they're better than.
If that is YOU: please quit the profession. Or at least, get to know your students better. They were writing about people like you.
Another type of person will hear that lesson and at least be intrigued. But here's what happened after. For the next 6 weeks, those kids came to class every day and were engaged. They felt listened to and respected, and they read a lot, wrote a lot, and learned a lot. They were a community of learners for (maybe) the first time.
During the activity, when they shared about the bad teacher, no one interrupted one another. They asked questions, gave feedback, and laughed and responded. OR, they did what all good readers and writers do, by putting themselves inside the story and learned from a character and experience.
When these kids had a topic they cared about, and a teacher that would listen, they did great. They liked class. On one occasion, I even heard one 'day' student brag about how good the class was.
What's my point?
I'm not suggesting that the way I went about it was the best, or suggesting that all students write about their least favorite teacher. The point is to be creative, get to know your students, and then do things in a way that reaches them. I had a class of 'tough' students. Because I was able to reach them, pique their interest, and then craft their responses toward academics, we had a beautifully productive evening school session. Kids trusted me as an expert. I was safe and different. They were intrigued. They listened to me more, cared about what I had to say, and went back to being successful during the day.
Isn't this the point?
Creativity in teaching is all but disallowed these days. Teachers that are creative are marked down. They are being replaced by semi-competent people that semi-competently teach a subject. But semi-competence doesn't inspire passion, encourage curiousity, or do much for anyone.
Afterward:
In a summer school class, again for students that failed, I had about an hour a day of silent reading. The merits of silent reading are a debated issue, but I am a huge fan. (People against it should also quit, and are wrong). In silent reading, students choose their own material and then have time to simply read in a quite setting.
At the end of one of the days, this girl approached me. She was very quiet, and had failed American Literature. "Can I borrow this book?" she asked.
It was Twilight. The next day, she'd finished it. That weekend, she read the other three books in the series.
Before this point, the girl had never read a book. In her entire life, she'd never read one book, but when she was given options and a place to read, she read 1,500 pages in a weekend.
This potential is in our students. We must be willing, creative, and caring enough to pull it out of them.