Sunday, October 25, 2015

Lessons Learned From Covering Classes

I've recently spent some time covering classes so that my teachers could attend PD, attend meetings or to relieve them of covering a colleague so they have more time to plan and grade.  When I cover, the kids know that I am not the "regular" teacher that they are used to and seem to flip a switch.  As anyone that has taught middle school knows, when a pre-teen decides that they would like to cause an issue, they can get very creative.  It has been quite a struggle for me.  While in the role of coach it is more difficult to develop those meaningful relationships with students, there are some that I have seen repeatedly, in different contexts that I have developed a rapport with.  One of these young ladies was particularly disruptive during a class that I covered for a colleague.  When I saw her later that day, I asked her about it.  She said, "You were a substitute, so I just felt like being bad."  

When I cover a class, it is an exceptionally difficult situation.  I am running a room with procedures and policies that are not mine, that I did not invest the time with the students in creating, and that I may not be completely aware of.  I do not have a relationship with all of the students; I am dependent upon a seating chart or class list to know most names.  Over the first few months of school, I have developed relationships with some students, but not nearly all of the 600+ students in the school.  And my consequences are limited.  I can speak with the teacher when they return.  If the infraction is real bad, I can call the office, but I don't have the built in consequences that come from developing a class code of conduct together.

What I've realized, besides how difficult of a job a substitute teacher has, is that those first few weeks of school are vitally important for establishing a culture of learning.  I've read it in every ed book out there, but living it gives a completely new perspective.  Nothing can replace strong sets of procedures and norms, coupled with meaningful relationships with students.  After a decade of teaching in my own room, these ideas just became part of my natural classroom set up.  In this new role, I'm re-learning the importance of establishing this atmosphere with students.  I'm hopeful that my struggles with their students does not hurt my credibility, but I think time is one of the most precious resources we can offer as educational coaches, so I will continue to offer coverage.  I'm also hopeful that my inability to establish my own policies and procedures with students will help serve as a reminder that next year this is an area to get teachers to collaborate on before the start of the year.

So what are those key elements that help a teacher develop those relationships?  What are the ways that we build consequences and rewards that become intrinsic motivators?  How do we help our teachers develop these ideas to implement with their own students?  What have you tried?  What has worked?  

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Student Thinking: Telling or Asking

A colleague sent out a link to an ASCD article about framing essential questions.  My favorite passage is below:

" Essential questions in this sense arise naturally and recur throughout one's life. Such questions are broad in scope and universal by nature. What is justice? Is art a matter of taste or principles? How much should we tamper with our own biology and chemistry? Is science compatible with religion? Is an author's view privileged in determining the meaning of a text? Essential questions of this type are common and perpetually arguable. We may arrive at or be helped to grasp understandings for these questions, but we soon learn that answers to them are provisional or more varied than we might have imagined. In other words, we are liable to change our minds in response to reflection, different views, and rich experience concerning such questions as we go through life—and such changes of mind are not only expected but beneficial."

How many opportunities do we give our students to wrestle with open-ended, or at least not right-or-wrong type questions.  So often students are looking for the "right" answer.  Our society as a whole needs to learn how to have an intelligible debate on a topic, to listen to another argument and weigh its merits.  Our current political system is based on "I'm right, you're wrong" mentality that is plaguing our nation's collective ability to problem solve.  We want our politicians to be open to hearing arguments from both sides of an issue, but then chastise them if their voting record changes over time.  As educators we have an opportunity to help raise an electorate that is educated on both the issues and the need to be flexible in their thinking about these essential questions.  Changing your mind based upon well-reasoned arguments is respectable, not a sign of weakness.

The question I've been wondering lately is "How much are we telling students what to think versus asking students what they think?"  Are we giving students opportunities to wrestle with these essential questions?  So often we are pressed for time, we feel that as the teacher, we have to tell students the facts, tell them what to think.  How do we create more chances for students to exercise their own thinking, creating arguments based on evidence without compromising the amount of time we spend on making sure they comprehend the content?  I'd love to hear and see some examples of teachers pulling this off in their classrooms!


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Find What You Love & Do More Of That

At our last faculty meeting, I posed the following prompt to the staff:  "If my students can __________ by the end of the year, I would consider my year a success."  The responses we're enlightening.  One third (11/33) of the teachers that responded gave an answer that was totally focused on behavior, with no relation to content.  A few less than half (14/33) listed a general thinking skill that could apply to many content areas.  Examples include "Research effectively", "Draw connections between concepts", "Identify ways to show/interpret/analyze data" and "Read a paragraph of a grade level as well as organize ideas to compose good writing".  The other responses had some content "Use Art in their daily lives" or "Show growth areas of reading that challenge them".

I find this data interesting.  So often as teachers, we focus on the content, especially at the secondary level, but when teachers measure their own success, more than two-thirds of teachers listed skills that are not content specific.  When my students ask me why we doing a certain topic, even ones I know they'll likely never use (imaginary numbers anyone?), my standard response was always, "This will help to teach you to think."  When we look at our practice, we may need to re-examine our focus.  Where are we placing the value of our time?  What is it that we really would like to teach our students?  Is it the content, or is the content the means by which we want our students to improve their critical thinking and problem solving skills?  Or their ability to empathize with another group of people?

Chris Danielson recently posed a call to action for teachers to "Find what you love.  Do more of that".  In his call to action, he asks teachers to reflect upon what it is that they are passionate about in their subject.  What is it that you love to pose to student?  His love is ambiguity.  He loves problems with multiple interpretations and multiple correct answers.  So then, he did more of that.  He started curating sets of problems called "Which One Doesn't Belong?".  He put it to Twitter to have other teachers help create and organize the problems, making a wonderful resource for all math teachers.  The problems that arise can be tailored to any content in mathematics, from Kindergarten to Calculus.  The trick is to create sets where EVERY answer can be justifiably defended.  This is what Chris loves (I admit that I've been a big fan of this type of question for a while myself, including being known to sing the old Sesame Street tune to students occasionally).  The idea with this activity is that it is not about the content.  It is about the thinking.  The ability to expand one's mind beyond one answer.  The need to listen to others constructively and critically.  With this format, students are given a framework where they can hold these conversations, dive into their critical thinking and communication skills.  The content is what fosters these skills.

So where can a teacher take this?  It starts with figuring out what it is that you love.  Seems simple enough, but it turns out to be a deep question.  Reflect on your favorite lessons.  Do they have something in common?  What do you love about your content area?  What do you love about working with kids?  What was the last thing a student did that made you smile?  What is it that you truly want your students to learn?  It may take a minute, a day or a month to really reflect and decide upon an answer, but every teacher has something about education that they are passionate about, something that got them into this business and something that is keeping them here.  

Once you find that thing, find a way to incorporate more of it into your lessons.  Chris created a website, replete with problems of the type that he liked.  If you like when students argue (about the content!) find a way to build it into your routine more often.  Maybe make Friday debate day, or include Talking Points in your repertoire.  Put some positive pressure on yourself.  If you're passionate about it, find a way to connect your passion to Student Learning Outcomes and your Professional Development Plan.  Find what you love and force yourself to do more of it; you'll ignite some passion in yourself and your colleagues!