This week, I asked a friend/ geometry pro/ retired math teacher/ political campaigner, Evie, to consider helping me lesson plan and actually see me teach it out. I'm not sure what prompted me, and I wasn't worried that my classes were falling to pieces. I guess I wanted another perspective and someone to help me stretch.
On a lovely Saturday morning, I went to her house where I set my textbook next to a breakfast spread of Irish soda bread, boiled eggs, brie, blackberries, honey, and coffee. It was as wonderful as it sounds. We started chatting about the law of sines and her eyes lit up as she scanned through her memory of massive archives. We spent talking about how to show a derivation of the law of sines. Evie suggested I show a statement and ask the students if it was true or false. Brilliant. One of the challenging things about showing a proof is getting a gauge of if students are actually following you or not. This was a easy check. We talked about having a problem that could use the law of sines but could also be found without it. I decided to turn it into my class challenge problem. I really gained a lot from her insight, the way she thought about things, and the way she was able to connect ideas. She came to my last period class to observe it all happen in action. I think it's a whole different beast to plan a lesson out and then to watch it unfold in real life. During class, I got hung up on the few students who were behind or kept interrupting me as we went over the derivation. I felt spent by the end of the period. Evie had gone to different groups, giving them hints. It was a nice to have another body in the room, especially one who had helped plan the same lesson. She came up to me at the end of class and simply said, "That was great!" Perspective. I had been stressing about so many little things, and didn't really get a chance to enjoy what was going on that was great. Students brains were fried! I had done my job. They were at max capacity! Some kids came from an exhausting PE class ready to turn off, but they kept pushing on. Some students deeply understood the derivation. Some students had light bulb moments. Not everyone, but hey. I'm not Ash Ketchum here.. A retired teacher saying "This lesson went great" let me take a step back and be thankful. So much work had gone into getting my class to be willing to engage in challenges, work together, turn their brains on. I had forgotten about it all. I realized I have so much to learn from people who've walked the path. What took Evie seconds to think of would have taken me hours. And maybe one day I'll be able to plan great lessons in minutes, but it got me thinking--- I wish teaching was more collaborative. That it included more of the HEART stuff asking questions more like "Are students struggling?", "Are they thinking conceptually?", "Can they make sense of this?" instead of things like "We're covering questions 1-10 on unit 8.2" Even better, if we could watch our lessons as we've created them unfold in real life. That sounds like good PD to me.
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I had gone to D.C. to visit a friend last weekend, and while I enjoyed my time there, I came home on Sunday afternoon and knew I was behind. No groceries, no meals prepared, no laundry cleaned, no lesson planned, no grading complete. A lot of no's and Monday was coming fast. Of course, I was overwhelmed by all of this and decided the sensible thing to do is shut down and watch hours of Netflix. Am I proud of this? No. Should I be less harsh on my students who do the same thing? Maybe.
Monday morning, I woke up at 4:00 AM after procrastinating my Sunday away. I quickly prepared a lunch for the day and then sat at my computer. I have a 100 minute class to account for and. one. blank. screen. I was introducing trigonometry that day. Most of my lesson that I had created needed me to guide my students through concepts and notes. It was going to be a boring day for my students. I teach four sections of geometry. I started teaching the lesson and one of my classes was continuously disruptive and challenging to work with. I wasn't in a great mood either because I'd been up since 4 AM. In the last five minutes of class, I shrugged and said, "If you don't want to learn, fine. I'm done." Five minutes passed without me doing anything. They left. I felt... like a horrible teacher. The next day I decided to go to some lecture on geometry and space by a renowned math professor who had a math thing named after him. I had tried to get a few students to come with me, but since I found out about it last minute, they were unable to make it. It's all for the best though. I understood... zero percent of what was said. What was worse, the professor literally read a wall of text at us. I say literally, because there was literally a PowerPoint with the exact same thing written on a giant screen behind him. I looked around at the math undergrads, grads, professors, and teachers. 100% of them were bored to tears and trying to look moderately polite. All of us hoping that it would end soon. Slide 48 of 62. 1 hour in. I secretly high-fived myself for bringing my textbook so I could plan the next day. I quickly went home, glad that I took none of my students. I started the next day telling my students that I didn't like the previous day. They were disruptive. It was hard to get started. Transitions were rough. My kids looked at me annoyed. Then I said, "I'd like to apologize as well. I went to a math lecture yesterday where the professor talked nonsense to us for 90 minutes, and the audience members were all in math related fields. It was really hard to stay focused. In fact, I didn't. Now, I don't think the lecture wasn't QUITE as bad. (Some students scoffed). BUT, I also don't think it was fair for me to just talk at you for 100 minutes. Today, we're going to be doing a lot more problems. You'll spend time trying to understand and not just trying to jot notes down." Some students looked surprise as at an apology. Others nodded. Either way, I had them bought in. My mentor came into my classes a few minutes later. He left me this note: I got to spend some time reading notes from my journal from last year and some of the difficulties I was facing then. One thing that caught my eye was the word patience. I'm not naturally a patient person. In fact, I watch my students work with each other and some of them are more patient with each other than I am. But I do think that I am more patient now than I am before I started teaching.
I get my patience from empathy. Trying to put myself in my students' shoes and understanding that my version of how time should be spent is often not my students' version. I've also found the most success with classroom discipline and student relationships when I'm in this space. I remember about a full year ago, I had been struggling with a student, Juan, who spent 90% of his time in groups talking about non-math related things. He was also failing. I had conversations with his parents, individually talked to him, tutored him one-on-one. And there he was. Period 8. Failing away. As I watched him talk about the newest sports cars instead of functions, I saw myself get frustrated and angry. Why wouldn't he take advantage of the time in class instead of constantly wasting it??? I'm not sure what act of God made me change my perspective, but I suddenly was struck with a thought, "This poor boy did not have the skills not to be distracted when he was with friends, as hard as he might try." I talked to him outside and he looked annoyed. "Great another talk with the teacher telling me how bad I am." This time I said, "I know that this grade you have in my class is not what you want. You've told me yourself you don't want to be failing this class. Be honest with me- what needs to happen so that you can do better in class." He look up, surprised even. This wasn't part of the script. He responded, "Well, I think I do better when I sit by myself." I said, "you know, it takes a lot of self-awareness and self-discipline to say something like that. I'll tell you what. These next couple days, let's have you sit on your own to see how you do." I remember after that conversation, he was SO focused. It was like a light had switched on. I was so much more patient with Juan after I was able to be empathetic. To place myself in his shoes, I was able to not hurry him along or punish him for something he couldn't do. Patience isn't like a reservoir that gets depleted until I'm drained of everything. It's like a muscle that sometimes wears down, but can get stronger. *Names have been changed I've dreaded my last period class on Monday every week since the second week of school. Students come in ready to get nothing done. There's a lot of craziness and chaos that fills the room. Some days I'm glad I'm a teacher. Other days, I wish I had a desk job.
Recently, my friend sent me an article on students meditating 15 min per day every day. They found amazing results like fewer fights and calmer classrooms and fewer disruptions. I was inspired. I knew I was going to have a tough road ahead because getting a class full of adolescents to quiet down and "clear their minds" is almost impossible. I gave them reasons on why it would help us feel relaxed after a long day and I let them know it might seem awkward at first. I went through a little prompt I had prepared in my head. "Focus on the breath, relax from your head to toe (naming each body part), breathe out bad energy, breathe in good energy..." Several students snickered and mimicked what I said or some other distracting behavior. I could tell that the kids who had started getting into it were quickly distracted. I then set a timer for 1 minute to simply clear their head silently. Kids were almost bursting out laughing. Afterward we went into the warm-up explanation and a problem set. I pulled three students aside individually to re-cap their behavior during the meditation session. A conversation something like this: T: I noticed that you were really laughing and making fun of the session. S: yeah, i know. I couldn't help it. T: I get it. Meditating can be pretty awkward at the beginning. It's just that when you started laughing it was hard for the rest of the class to have their own experience. S: Yeah yeah sorry. T: Especially you, I feel like you have long days and you can get easily stressed. I felt like this would have been particularly useful for you. S: yeah, i guess. T: But if you really feel like it's too much, go ahead and step outside in the hallway until it's over. S: I can do that? T: yeah, I'd rather you do that than distract the whole class. This week, I put meditation monday back on the agenda. Some students scoffed but didn't outwardly make comments. I went through some prompts about focusing on the breath. The students who I had talked to still didn't buy in but they didn't make any disruptive noises, which helped the rest of the class. After some prompts, I set the timer this time for 2 minutes. I made note to them that we were increasing the time. I asked them to keep their minds blank and still for just 2 minutes. Heck, I felt better after the two minutes. The timer rang, and there was a noticeable difference. Less chaos. I think we all felt better. Next week... THREE minutes! One of the things I hate about education (as far as I've been in it - which is a short time) is that we spend our time .. a LOT of time... on stuff that really doesn't change how students learn. Not in a big way. I mean yes, these are all good things, but it's not what's most important. WE SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON STUFF THAT DOESN'T AFFECT HOW KIDS LEARN
Without further ado, my list of time-consuming things that could be spent better: 1. Technology: So what if everyone has an I-pad?? Teachers spend a LOT of time going to training or on their own learning how to use technology that often doesn't affect how students think. Of course some teachers definitely incorporate them as a daily extension of what they do, but often mandates are given about what kinds of technology is to be used only for it to be tossed aside because it doesn't actually help students learn. (This is aside from technical issues like wifi or poor connections). I'm not saying- go back to cavemen times. I'm just saying Steve Jobs doesn't let his kids have I-pads... 2. Assessment. Ever since some big research paper said how you assess matters the most, the only thing people care about is assessing appropriately. I don't even want to think about the hundreds of thousands of man hours that get poured into writing questions, aligning curriculum, creating better standards --- only to find that it didn't actually make that big of a difference when they implemented their new standards with all those extra thoughtful essay questions. That's because HOW something gets taught is more important. (Plus... high test scores is not a philosophy. I have no intention of building my worth as a teacher on if my students can do well on PAARC or ACT.) 3. Curriculum. What gets taught is less important than who's teaching it and how. Trust me, no matter how interesting the topic, there is someone out there who can make it boring and unlearnable. 4. Evaluations. When an evaluator comes into my classroom 3 times, gives me a few words of feedback, and leaves... no one wins! I had to prepare HOURS to show evidence that I'm doing my job. Then I prepare MORE HOURS of my life to show that I'm putting TONS OF HOURS in my profession. Or what about the evaluators?? They're spending HOURS just evaluating so that the system that eats them up will remain appeased. 100% certain my students are not gaining from this labor intensive process. So, what should we spend our time on? 1. Learning to reflect with others. 2. Regular/weekly meeting with course teams specifying how to improve how to teach. (not just what to teach) 3. Seeing each others classrooms and providing informal feedback (not linked to evaluations) 4. Developing a philosophy for our classroom. What do we want our students to be like when they leave? (Not what information we want them to know). 5. Mentoring and being mentored by others to think of classroom strategies 6. Sustained professional development that span years (not hours). 7. Learning more math, deeper math 8. Meditating and reflecting on our days I don't remember who said this but I agree "I was surprised to find that teaching was the one of the least intellectual things I had done." I generally tend to hate anything gimmicky. I feel like it's not authentic and loses focus on what's important. But there is a review game I play occasionally with kids and I find generally successful. I'll go over the bare basics and add my own twists. And as is true of most of my ideas, this one is stolen from another teacher. The concept is simple and I don't have to prepare any Jeopardy questions. I don't have anything against Jeopardy (yes I do), but I'm too lazy to organize all of that. Here it is: Print out one horse for each group and a review packet. On the board, tape (or magnet) the horse on a pre-drawn table. Each group is represented by a horse. A group gets to move their horse forward one space if they complete one page of the review packet (or topic or unit-- you decide). Whoever has moved their horse the furthest will be the winning group. Generally I would hate this idea because it feels a little gimmicky and it's competitive. Students often don't learn in competitive settings because they care more about winning than about learning. So I've implemented a few twists that make this game really worthwhile. While your horse does move up one if your group finishes a section, it also moves up for groups displaying excellent group work, perseverance, or patience with each other. Even if there is a group that is slower because they are helping each other, their horse still moves forward b/c they are working together. Horses can also move backward if all of them are unfocused, checking their phones for updates, etc. (This gets some groups quickly into gear). I make sure that the first horse moving forward is because of excellent group work. I say loudly what the reason for their horse moving forward is. Lastly, I have them choose (appropriate names for their horse). First group to start working gets to choose and name their horse. It's silly but for some reason oddly motivating. I will try to update this pic when we're actually in play*
I've been hearing more about the importance of getting our students to develop character skills that will prepare them in colleges or careers. After all, what we really want after kids to graduate is not someone who can spout back all the sine and cosine values given an angle, rather someone who can persevere, be creative, and work well with others. Among the values, the one that gets pushed the most is GRIT “the tendency to sustain perseverance and passion for challenging long-term goals." Push for more work from these kids!
Then comes Alfie Kohn's piece in the Washington Post explaining a few reasons the grit craze might not be a cure-all and that it might even be damaging. There is something to be said about NOT working hard on a long term goal especially if the long term goal is unworthy. And sometimes we should quit what we're doing to stop and reassess. Part of what makes his case so compelling is distinguishing between desirable behaviors (like grit) and intrinsic motivation. He also argues that it's nothing new- this is the story/fable we've been telling students for years. "All you need is to work harder to succeed." Let's be honest, the behavior game has been played in schools for a long time. For kids of color and traditionally marginalized backgrounds, they're really told a new version of "work hard." Grit actually goes further to say "work hard at whatever the task." This gets into political territory, and by political I mean power struggle. In the words of Alfie Kohn: "Really? No antipoverty tool — presumably including Medicaid and public housing — is more valuable than an effort to train poor kids to persist at whatever they’re told to do? Whose interests are served by such a position?" Grit doesn't help students change the world they were born into (of the haves and have-nots, greed, racism, and privilege). Instead it says to buckle down and keep at it, without reflecting on the tipped balances. While I find it incredibly important for humans to leave their education being able to focus on something they love and find worthy, I'm not sure that I buy that they should be dedicated to a task blindly. That doesn't seem like the kinds of citizens of neighbors we should have. Then again, others might disagree. I bet those people have a lot to gain with a society full of gritty and non-critical people. I had the wonderful opportunity to think during winter break, think hard about what I wanted to do in the classroom differently. I've recently been meeting more regularly with a mentor (the resident principal at my school) who has given me a lot of helpful and thoughtful ideas for change. I also chatted with Kyle, a dear friend from my masters program, who gave me insight into his own classroom. With these people in my life combined, I made some interesting changes after winter break. 1. No paper. (kind of). Kyle told me he didn't give out worksheets. Instead he has kids continually working on white boards. So I tried it. I put up three questions to help students find distance between two points and a 30 minute timer. I never gave them the distance formula and instead asked them to apply the Pythagorean theorem. Students were generally engaged, able to show their work better to peers, and I was able to evaluate their work easier. I was able to pinpoint misconceptions quickly and some common errors. Afterward, I had students present the problems to the rest of the class. 2. BEFORE I just handed students boards and markers, I wrote on the board two sections: Questions I will answer & Questions I WONT answer. (This idea came through my mentor who came from another teacher Bill who may have gotten it somewhere else but that's as far as my trail leads). Questions I'll answer Questions I won't answer Does our reasoning make sense? Is this right? Here's what we've got so far, but we're not Where do I start? sure where to go next I don't understand why this is the answer I don't get it. Then we had a short (3 min) discussion about why I wouldn't answer the questions on the right. This helped them understand where I was coming from and gave them some rationale. Providing prompts also gave them tools to ask better questions and to see the kinds of thinking I valued. 3. Take-Aways. This was another suggestion by my mentor. I usually end class by letting the time run out. Oh okay! well, see you next time. This hasn't really been the best way to end class. Instead, at the last 10 minutes, we took out our notebooks and we wrote down the two main takeaways (about distance between two points and finding a midpoint). I was listening for students who had figured these out during class and asked them to share them at the end of class. I would write word for word what the student said. Afterward I would circle portions or add blanks to show that our takeaway wasn't complete. I asked students from the class to make our sentence more specific or more complete. Then I had them make a small drawing next to it that represented the sentence. It was a quick way for me to check student understanding (at least conceptually). A lot to learn, but it was... really an enjoyable class experience for me. Different ways students found the distance between two points. On the bottom right is an example of a common misconceptions students have. They see two points and automatically think they should plug it into the slope formula. On the top left, students use -18 and then square it (but keep it negative). This is a common mistake that they make.
I can't help but feel a little anxiety every winter break. Coming back... knowing that so much was lost in the two weeks... then immediately thinking if it was ever there to begin with. I also get a moment to reflect on things that went well and things that didn't go so well. What could change about this next half of the year? What could be better?
Time for some new years resolutions (teacher style) 1. I will ask for help (from teachers and colleagues) 2. I will find ways to keep students engaged when they feel challenged 3. I will create a classroom community 4. I will eat better. Will update on how these resolutions are going. :) I got a gift today from my student, but I don't know what to think.
A month ago, I said hello in the hallway. "Hi Anna." "Hi Ms. Song." tells her friend under her breath, "She's my math teacher... She doesn't teach sh**." I whipped my head around, "That's rude!" and walked away. I didn't really know what else to say or do and she had never meant for me to hear those words. We hadn't had the best relationship. I felt like she was constantly disruptive and antagonistic and she felt like I explained things too quickly and my methods were ineffective. I had already asked her out in the hallway multiple times. I always smiled at her and said hello but it probably felt hollow. I secretly felt she hated me, and while that shouldn't really get to a teacher's psyche, I'll tell you- it does. The comment to her friend in the hall confirmed my fears. For a week or two, she was on eggshells around me. I had never brought up the comment that she made again; I never asked for resolution. And I was okay that she was uneasy because I wasn't really at a place to forgive. A week later, I made a conscious risk/choice to give her the role of group leader. At a magnet school, this was not just an honor but also a status symbol. She took it on imperfectly but with purpose and effort to the best of her ability. In her group, I've had interventions and also shown that I have faith in her capabilities. So she gave me a gift today, covered in tissue paper, wrapped with an old ribbon. It was a book. I thought it was a joke. She said, "this is for you." I said, "oh ok, huh." My initial reaction was that she had just wrapped up one of her English novels from school and gave it to me. So I waited a while, until after they started their test. I tentatively opened it. It was a journal. A really nice journal. Now, my guess is that her mom bought some gifts for teachers but I had assumed the worst. I wrote her a note thanking her for her thoughtful gift- I should have apologized my lackluster acceptance. It's a shielding mechanism. I didn't want to show genuine appreciation because I was afraid that this was some kind of prank. Another day that reminds me I have a lot to learn. Merry Christmas. |
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