As the principal of Apollo Ohno Middle School , it has become glaringly obvious to me that our students are struggling when it comes to mathematics. This is a trend that is prevalent nation wide and many other schools in New Jersey are grappling with the same issue. That being said, we clearly need to make some changes to provide more support for both our staff and our students. I am suggesting the following allocations based on an EWEG/NCLB grant.
Title I: We have $45, 000 to spend on helping bridge the gap for our lower income population. I am suggesting that we divide these resources among an array of enrichment and tutoring programs that focus on one on one interaction and smaller group setting instruction. I will ask staff, at a compensatory rate, to participate in tutoring programs that will help our students to be more successful in math and language arts. I understand that our students are struggling right now, more in math, but literacy is an integral part of their education as well and is part of the rigorous testing process they must endure. Therefore, a little extra practice in both areas cannot hurt them.
Proposed programs
I- Mandatory early morning/after school tutoring program based on at risk test scores.
II- 21st century tutoring Academy (taking place between the hours of 3:00-4:30) where struggling student can seek assistance in several content areas for free with tutors from several academic areas there to assist their development.
III- Saturday School: A mandated program serving the two months prior to their state tests where students attend school for 2 hours sessions focusing on the areas of math and language arts (I am aware that this sounds a bit crazy, but I have been part of this program, and I have seen it work when I worked at Hoboken High School)
IV- Formation of the science and engineering academy that offers students the opportunity to use real life math skills through courses that are designed with a hands on approach to science and math. This would be a project based learning class for at risk students which gives them ways to apply math without a focus on drill and kill skills.
Title IIa: It is definitely my understanding that our staff is under a tremendous amount of pressure and they do the very best they can with the means they have. Education is not perfect; not everything we do reaches every child, especially reluctant learners and those who have special needs. It is my intention to use the $38,000 we have been allotted to bring in experts and send our staff for training that will best help to serve the needs of our student population.
Proposed Programs
I- Development of PLC’s with a focus on how to enhance math skills across the curriculum (specialists can be brought in who focus on formative assessment techniques and student centered learning)
II- Provide money for those staff members who are K-8 certified to take classes with a math oriented focus to develop their specialized skills.
III- Provide opportunities for teachers to go to out of district workshops to learn about skills that will enhance their abilities to teach the skills that are tested without teaching to a test.
IV- Create in district workshop experiences, using the staff we have, that focus on new and innovative ways of teaching the material that is mandated with standards to help all teachers, not just math and language arts teachers, better serve the needs of our struggling students.
Title III: Our school serves a diverse population with many students coming from homes that use English as their secondary means of communication. We need to find new and innovative ways to serve this population to bring them to a point where they have the ability to be as successful as their classmates whose first language is English. We have been given $12,000 to do so.
Proposed Programs
I- The purchase of several Rosetta Stone English computer programs can help our ELL students to continue their learning, even when they are not in school. These programs can also help to assist after school tutoring programs.
II- Creation of the Bilingual Academy where the ELL teacher and student tutors(students who have been through the program and know what the experience is like) help to teach some of the skills, math based and otherwise, that ELL students are struggling with in an after school program.
Title IV: All student populations are at risk to the ills of substance abuse, and our middle school population at Apollo Ohno Middle School is no exception. Some people may still hold on to the belief that middle school is a very early age for substance abuse to begin, but it is a well researched fact that many students turn to tobacco, alcohol, and drug use as early as 6th grade. We have been given $3,500 to spend on programming to promote substance abuse prevention.
Proposed Programming
I- The assembly program “I am Dirt” by John Morello is an introspective onstage journey into the way addiction plagues humans and the way it affects and destroys the relationships that are essential to the human spirit. The cost is $1800 ( I have actually seen this show at the middle school I work at. This assembly is probably the best one I have ever seen and really resonated with my 8th graders. You can find more info at http://johnmorello.com/wordpress
II- Allot money for drug abuse counselors, pulmonary specialists, etc. to come in to health classes to speak to students about the risks that drugs and alcohol can have.
Title V: Creativity is what is missing from traditional education. Not all students learn the same way and not all students test the same way. That is why I am proposing with the $1200 we receive for creativity, we actually use that money to focus on creativity.
Proposed program
I- Title V-Part D- subpart 4 Small Learning communities: We could utilize these small learning communities to connect at risk students with opportunities that show them how math exists in the real world and how they can be successful within that context. We can ask students to participate in a mentor project where they work with professionals who volunteer from the world of architecture, design, construction, engineering, etc to help students find a connection and meaningful mission while using math skills. Students would be responsible for creating a personal project (similar to that in the Middle Years
program). This could start off as a pilot program with a small group of at risk students.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Dear Mr. Hirsch . . .times, they are a changing
Dear Mr. Hirsch,
I respect your research and the years you have dedicated to gathering the information that supports your findings about the state of education in America. With an open mind, I actually agree with some of the elements that you present about core knowledge and the idea that there are some ideas and terminology every student should leave my classroom knowing. With a less open mind, I cannot, with great faith, agree with the way in which you hope for me to disseminate this information. Rote memorization and full class instruction does not work for all learners. At the beginning of every school year, I ask my students to identify what kind of learner they believe they are. Many of them come to find they are kinesthetic learners. Should I neglect their needs in order to serve what you may believe is the greater good? Our classrooms are full of complex learners with complex needs. I teach students with multiple disabilities, gifted intellectual abilities, and an array of work ethics at the same time, in the same classroom, very often twenty two or more at a time. I have a lot of needs to think about, and I can't neglect to think of them when I plan instruction.
I don't think the needs of our students have changed that much over the years. In fact, I believe those same needs were present back in the 1950's when your method of education was rather en vogue. At that time, research had not been performed to understand the different learning styles of children. My parents listened, they memorized, and they failed or succeeded based on their auditory processing skills. We were considered an academic powerhouse back in that era, and so, many people may agree with your ideas of going back to basics. I think the basics can help to establish success in our classrooms, but I don't feel we will get the same results in 2010 that we got back then. The times have changed. Our students have changed and so have their family structures. Tests that benchmark their progress to meet the core curricular goals aren't going to re-establish our dominance in the global education race.
You site Japanese students and their success as a model for our students. You do not consider the additional amount of time they spend in the classroom or the investments their parents make in their education. These are the same advantages children in affluent school districts have access to. Children from wealthy families have access to tutors who help them prepare for their standardized tests. In fact, I am one of those tutors who is paid a rather hefty fee to make sure that students will be successful in their endeavors with the SAT's. Week after week, I work with students, one on one, preparing them to do better than they would have on the standardized test that will affect where they go to college. They also know many of the terms that can be found on your cultural literacy list, not because they have learned them in school but because they have learned them in their home through cultural exposure.
That being said, I have taught in an urban high school where my students did not have access to private tutors or cultural experiences and because of that, they would not recognize many of the terms on your list. Their parents did not always value education in the same way as their affluent peers did, and no matter how much material from your list I presented them with or asked them to memorize, they could not or would not do it. I resorted to project based learning, and even though I did not get total results, I did get some results. When I tried to give students experiences where they could be successful, they began to grow as people. These students who on paper, on state tests, were labeled as failures were beginning to see themselves as more than just that. Perhaps I rely far too much on the school of thought that looks to experimentalism and existentialism, but I believe school should be about the experience instead of just cold, hard facts. The value of the human being cannot be benchmarked.
Technology and its advancements have made research a lot easier for our students. They no longer need us to be the "end all, be all" guide to knowledge in our classrooms. Frankly, the internet can provide my students with more knowledge than my head holds. The internet cannot give my students "aha moments" or experiences to interact with their peers and create meaningful reflections. It cannot give my students person to person interactions that ask them to develop into productive members of society. Facts cannot do that but experiences can. Do you really believe I should neglect my desire to give them a place to discover just so they can be benchmarked and passed on like factory products? That's not teaching; that's producing.
I appreciate that you have kept an open mind and have changed the opinions that you held so close to your heart. There is no easy fix for all of our schools. There is no magic medicine that will cure all of their ills, but we could use a vitamin to support our growth. Your ideas are not completely without their merits. In fact, I see their merit, but in isolation, their merit becomes diminished.
Thank you for taking the time to listen to the opinion of a humble public servant in the trenches.
Sincerely,
Gina M. Grosso
I respect your research and the years you have dedicated to gathering the information that supports your findings about the state of education in America. With an open mind, I actually agree with some of the elements that you present about core knowledge and the idea that there are some ideas and terminology every student should leave my classroom knowing. With a less open mind, I cannot, with great faith, agree with the way in which you hope for me to disseminate this information. Rote memorization and full class instruction does not work for all learners. At the beginning of every school year, I ask my students to identify what kind of learner they believe they are. Many of them come to find they are kinesthetic learners. Should I neglect their needs in order to serve what you may believe is the greater good? Our classrooms are full of complex learners with complex needs. I teach students with multiple disabilities, gifted intellectual abilities, and an array of work ethics at the same time, in the same classroom, very often twenty two or more at a time. I have a lot of needs to think about, and I can't neglect to think of them when I plan instruction.
I don't think the needs of our students have changed that much over the years. In fact, I believe those same needs were present back in the 1950's when your method of education was rather en vogue. At that time, research had not been performed to understand the different learning styles of children. My parents listened, they memorized, and they failed or succeeded based on their auditory processing skills. We were considered an academic powerhouse back in that era, and so, many people may agree with your ideas of going back to basics. I think the basics can help to establish success in our classrooms, but I don't feel we will get the same results in 2010 that we got back then. The times have changed. Our students have changed and so have their family structures. Tests that benchmark their progress to meet the core curricular goals aren't going to re-establish our dominance in the global education race.
You site Japanese students and their success as a model for our students. You do not consider the additional amount of time they spend in the classroom or the investments their parents make in their education. These are the same advantages children in affluent school districts have access to. Children from wealthy families have access to tutors who help them prepare for their standardized tests. In fact, I am one of those tutors who is paid a rather hefty fee to make sure that students will be successful in their endeavors with the SAT's. Week after week, I work with students, one on one, preparing them to do better than they would have on the standardized test that will affect where they go to college. They also know many of the terms that can be found on your cultural literacy list, not because they have learned them in school but because they have learned them in their home through cultural exposure.
That being said, I have taught in an urban high school where my students did not have access to private tutors or cultural experiences and because of that, they would not recognize many of the terms on your list. Their parents did not always value education in the same way as their affluent peers did, and no matter how much material from your list I presented them with or asked them to memorize, they could not or would not do it. I resorted to project based learning, and even though I did not get total results, I did get some results. When I tried to give students experiences where they could be successful, they began to grow as people. These students who on paper, on state tests, were labeled as failures were beginning to see themselves as more than just that. Perhaps I rely far too much on the school of thought that looks to experimentalism and existentialism, but I believe school should be about the experience instead of just cold, hard facts. The value of the human being cannot be benchmarked.
Technology and its advancements have made research a lot easier for our students. They no longer need us to be the "end all, be all" guide to knowledge in our classrooms. Frankly, the internet can provide my students with more knowledge than my head holds. The internet cannot give my students "aha moments" or experiences to interact with their peers and create meaningful reflections. It cannot give my students person to person interactions that ask them to develop into productive members of society. Facts cannot do that but experiences can. Do you really believe I should neglect my desire to give them a place to discover just so they can be benchmarked and passed on like factory products? That's not teaching; that's producing.
I appreciate that you have kept an open mind and have changed the opinions that you held so close to your heart. There is no easy fix for all of our schools. There is no magic medicine that will cure all of their ills, but we could use a vitamin to support our growth. Your ideas are not completely without their merits. In fact, I see their merit, but in isolation, their merit becomes diminished.
Thank you for taking the time to listen to the opinion of a humble public servant in the trenches.
Sincerely,
Gina M. Grosso
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Saber Tooth Curriculum . . .or something less or more like it?
The picture I'm including made me laugh, and made me think of the disagreement at the end of "The Saber-Tooth Curriculum"
1. Should education be based on disseminating the important skills needed by society in the present and for the future?
This is a complex question since it involves the dissection of what high theory means to education and what practical education means to the human species. It is clear our students need certain skills in order to be productive members of society. Those skills include reading, writing, doing fundamental math, understanding basic scientific functions, and so on. It is true that the skill set they need for survival is based on a very basic level. Not every student will need the skill of geometry, but we still teach it. Not every student will need to know how to analyze the characters in "Of Mice and Men" in an in depth way, but we still teach this skill. We teach this skill because we hope those very same lessons will translate into students understanding how to fix a roof, if need be, and how to recognize characteristics in human beings that will impact us in negative or positive ways. We teach to a set of theories because we are trying to disseminate important skills. If we were too focused on only the skills that children needed on the most basic level, then we would miss the proverbial boat in a sense.
New-Fist created education out of the basis of a need to serve the purpose of helping young people garner skills to lead a more productive life. The roots of education are ingrained in skill based learning, and I do not disagree with New-Fist's initial philosophy. In fact, I subscribe to his same methodology when I teach my kids the most fundamental components of an essay. Skills are essential, but how about learning for the sake of learning even if it's not associated with a skill? I can almost understand the conflict of the idea stated , "you would know that the essence of true education is timelessness. It is something that endures through changing conditions like a solid rock . . ."(7) Skills are not always timeless, but learning for the sake of learning is.
That being said, skill sets are in a constant cycle of evolution. As educators, we have to be master adapters who roll with the punches and try new things. If we stay with outdated, antiquated thinking, then our students will soon become the victims of our disservice. We have to learn how to teach the way of antelope snaring and bear entrapment so our kids can compete and function in the society we live in. That doesn't mean we can't teach them the ways of the "good old days", but it just means that shouldn't be the only thing we're teaching them.
2. Should curriculum change reflect the common goals of the community in enabling its members to function as citizens?
This is a complex question since it involves the dissection of what high theory means to education and what practical education means to the human species. It is clear our students need certain skills in order to be productive members of society. Those skills include reading, writing, doing fundamental math, understanding basic scientific functions, and so on. It is true that the skill set they need for survival is based on a very basic level. Not every student will need the skill of geometry, but we still teach it. Not every student will need to know how to analyze the characters in "Of Mice and Men" in an in depth way, but we still teach this skill. We teach this skill because we hope those very same lessons will translate into students understanding how to fix a roof, if need be, and how to recognize characteristics in human beings that will impact us in negative or positive ways. We teach to a set of theories because we are trying to disseminate important skills. If we were too focused on only the skills that children needed on the most basic level, then we would miss the proverbial boat in a sense.
New-Fist created education out of the basis of a need to serve the purpose of helping young people garner skills to lead a more productive life. The roots of education are ingrained in skill based learning, and I do not disagree with New-Fist's initial philosophy. In fact, I subscribe to his same methodology when I teach my kids the most fundamental components of an essay. Skills are essential, but how about learning for the sake of learning even if it's not associated with a skill? I can almost understand the conflict of the idea stated , "you would know that the essence of true education is timelessness. It is something that endures through changing conditions like a solid rock . . ."(7) Skills are not always timeless, but learning for the sake of learning is.
That being said, skill sets are in a constant cycle of evolution. As educators, we have to be master adapters who roll with the punches and try new things. If we stay with outdated, antiquated thinking, then our students will soon become the victims of our disservice. We have to learn how to teach the way of antelope snaring and bear entrapment so our kids can compete and function in the society we live in. That doesn't mean we can't teach them the ways of the "good old days", but it just means that shouldn't be the only thing we're teaching them.
2. Should curriculum change reflect the common goals of the community in enabling its members to function as citizens?
To an extent, I feel that curriculum change should reflect the goals of a community since the purpose of education is to serve the community. Why shouldn't we implement changes that are beneficial to our students? In the same way the younger members of the community in the article strived for a changing of services in school, so do our students. My students eat up the opportunity to use Google docs for peer editing instead of writing all over someone's paper in class. They get excited when we use silent dialogues in place of traditional conversations. Our students live in an entirely different world than we did (and that's scary because I was the same age my students are 13 years ago). I would be remiss in my beliefs if I thought curriculum should not change to meet the needs of the 21st century learner. Learning is rooted in tradition, and I respect that tradition, but our community of learners aren't always as impressed by tradition as I am. It's my job to pique their interest, and if that means changing things up to meet a new set of needs, then I'm willing to do it.
3. Should curriculum focus on skills or content knowledge as its primary focus?
I am clearly committed to building skills in my classroom, but I think I am essentially committed to building skills that eventually connect to content. You meet your class where they are. If my kids can master the idea of a thesis statement, I'm not moving past that point. At the same time, that doesn't mean I can't be helping them to recognize how what they believe in deeply impacts their reading experience. There is a way to teach for the sake of learning and teach for the sake of application. It's a delicate balance, and I wouldn't say it's easy, but if we become solely focused on skills, we leave out an essential part of the learning experience which is often the most rewarding. Yet, if our curriculum is content driven only, and we lets skill sets go by the way side, we could find ourselves in a difficult predicament with students that lack the ability to function in the society they are about to enter. I think our primary focus should be on finding a balance between the two. At the end of the article, neither the elder or younger community members were completely right in their estimations of what education should be. Between the two of them, they were on to something.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I Believe . . .
I was always addicted to learning. Perhaps, I would say I was even a little obsessed, to the point that my mother was called in for a conference when I was in the first grade because I cried in class when I got an 89 on a spelling test (spelling is still my weakness, and I am thankful for advancements in technology that help me not to look silly all the time). I cried, not because my mom and dad would be mad at me or because the teacher would make me feel ashamed in class, but because I had disappointed myself. In my six year old eyes, a B was a failure, and it wasn’t something that I was willing to accept. In hind sight, this was an event that set me on a wild, turbulent ride on the roller coaster of life whose tracks were laden with beautiful moments of failure.
I believe in failure and the power it holds to change us for the better. Not that I’ve always seen it that way, because trust me, I have not. In fact, I’ve fought failure every step of the way, and when it would rear its ugly head, I found myself trying to deny its presence, only to discover I should have been embracing it.
My story begins in high school. English had always been my best subject. I felt comfortable with grammar, reading was something I did for pleasure, and writing was my passion. I made it through seventeen years of people and teachers telling me I was successful and very good at English. I liked feeling that comfort. Then, I met an English teacher who turned those feelings upside down. In front of an entire classroom, she told me that I was “really stupid” when it came to poetry. I looked at her dumbfounded, and she then went further into depth about how inept I was in my ability to analyze and write poetry. I’m sad to say, but I reverted to my trusty old tears, and I cried again. This time I wasn’t crying because I was disappointed in myself. I was crying because someone else, who I respected, was disappointed in me. Even sadder than that, I believed what she said for next four years.
Flash forward to my senior year in college. Despite my lack luster poetry skills, I still pursued a degree in English in college, but I avoided poetry class like the plague. To finish my program and get certified as a secondary English teacher, I was required to take a class that exclusively focused on poetry. I had avoided this class too long because now I was forced to take American poetry with one of the most difficult professors in the department. I had no other options. The time had come to face my demons, and my belief of my abysmal failure was engrained in my head and heart. I was destined to fail, and if you couldn’t tell from my first grade self, I was obsessed with grades. This professor only gave out two A’s a year, and since I was grossly inadequate, I was setting my GPA up for a bomb.
I walked into that classroom with my head hung low, and I didn’t say a single word for a half of a semester out of fear of further failure. Yet, I listened to him every class, and he made poetry sound so beautiful and exciting. He made me love Walt Whitman and made me feel like I knew Langston Hughes. When I handed in my first paper that I shamefully wrote, I knew I had failed before I even got a grade. When I got the paper back, it said, “C-/D . . .maybe you should see me”. My heart plummeted. I hadn’t seen a grade like that since Calculus. I agreed with him; maybe it was time to see him. I told him my story and my fears of poetry, and he said I was failing myself. He said the saddest part of the story was that I was weak enough to let someone make me feel that her interpretation of my failure defined me. He said to me failure was the great birth of something new. It was the force that propels us to be better or more than we could have imagined, and just like that, my icy shell of failure started to melt. My next paper, I worked harder than I thought physically possible and analyzed deeper than I think I ever should have. I wrote a twenty one page paper on a Mina Loy poem that took up the space of half a page. When I handed that paper in, I knew that even if I failed, it didn’t matter. I would never let someone’s perception of my failure or my ability shape my belief ever again.
Flash forward to the end of the semester: I got an A, but it was an A that taught me about how out of failure, authentic success is born. In addition to that, my love of poetry bloomed in that sixteen weeks and continues to grow as I teach my eighth graders the very same poems from Harlem Renaissance poet that changed my life forever.
My high school teacher and my college professor collectively and very oppositely taught me that failure is beautiful. It is deep, profound, and suspect to interpretation. Failure motivates me and makes me human. It asks me to be more than I ever wished for, and it tells me that perfection is less than I ever wish to be. Perfection is boring; failure builds character. I hope to continue failing and growing for the rest of my life.
In my classroom, I push my kids. Sometimes, I push them a little too hard but only because I know that those moments are defining who they are becoming, very much like my college professor knew. I also carry the belief that words cut like a knife, and very much unlike my high school teacher, I am sensitive to the way I speak to my students. My job is to foster their dreams, not to dash them, and I take that job very seriously. I believe in believing. Believing and showing that you believe is perhaps the most powerful tool a teacher can arm him or herself with. Kids have amazing instincts, and they can sense a phony from a mile away. They can also sense it when you really expect them to achieve more than they think is humanly possible, and the truth is, they’ll go to the ends of the human world to show you that your dream of possibility is plausible. That’s the awesome thing about kids; they can shut off with the blink of the eye or ignite with passion and fervor when sparked. It keeps you on your toes.
At the end of last year, my honors students took part in a reflective Socratic seminar. They told me the most valuable lesson they learned all year was that failure measure your success, and failure makes them normal. They told me they can’t wait to keep failing so that they can become better people. These were the same kids who cried when they failed a comma quiz, the same kids who use to argue with me between a 95 and a 98. It was a defining moment in my career, and it’s an awesome moment to take part in when a bunch of perfection seekers realize that it’s more about the journey than the destination.
I believe in failure and the power it holds to change us for the better. Not that I’ve always seen it that way, because trust me, I have not. In fact, I’ve fought failure every step of the way, and when it would rear its ugly head, I found myself trying to deny its presence, only to discover I should have been embracing it.
My story begins in high school. English had always been my best subject. I felt comfortable with grammar, reading was something I did for pleasure, and writing was my passion. I made it through seventeen years of people and teachers telling me I was successful and very good at English. I liked feeling that comfort. Then, I met an English teacher who turned those feelings upside down. In front of an entire classroom, she told me that I was “really stupid” when it came to poetry. I looked at her dumbfounded, and she then went further into depth about how inept I was in my ability to analyze and write poetry. I’m sad to say, but I reverted to my trusty old tears, and I cried again. This time I wasn’t crying because I was disappointed in myself. I was crying because someone else, who I respected, was disappointed in me. Even sadder than that, I believed what she said for next four years.
Flash forward to my senior year in college. Despite my lack luster poetry skills, I still pursued a degree in English in college, but I avoided poetry class like the plague. To finish my program and get certified as a secondary English teacher, I was required to take a class that exclusively focused on poetry. I had avoided this class too long because now I was forced to take American poetry with one of the most difficult professors in the department. I had no other options. The time had come to face my demons, and my belief of my abysmal failure was engrained in my head and heart. I was destined to fail, and if you couldn’t tell from my first grade self, I was obsessed with grades. This professor only gave out two A’s a year, and since I was grossly inadequate, I was setting my GPA up for a bomb.
I walked into that classroom with my head hung low, and I didn’t say a single word for a half of a semester out of fear of further failure. Yet, I listened to him every class, and he made poetry sound so beautiful and exciting. He made me love Walt Whitman and made me feel like I knew Langston Hughes. When I handed in my first paper that I shamefully wrote, I knew I had failed before I even got a grade. When I got the paper back, it said, “C-/D . . .maybe you should see me”. My heart plummeted. I hadn’t seen a grade like that since Calculus. I agreed with him; maybe it was time to see him. I told him my story and my fears of poetry, and he said I was failing myself. He said the saddest part of the story was that I was weak enough to let someone make me feel that her interpretation of my failure defined me. He said to me failure was the great birth of something new. It was the force that propels us to be better or more than we could have imagined, and just like that, my icy shell of failure started to melt. My next paper, I worked harder than I thought physically possible and analyzed deeper than I think I ever should have. I wrote a twenty one page paper on a Mina Loy poem that took up the space of half a page. When I handed that paper in, I knew that even if I failed, it didn’t matter. I would never let someone’s perception of my failure or my ability shape my belief ever again.
Flash forward to the end of the semester: I got an A, but it was an A that taught me about how out of failure, authentic success is born. In addition to that, my love of poetry bloomed in that sixteen weeks and continues to grow as I teach my eighth graders the very same poems from Harlem Renaissance poet that changed my life forever.
My high school teacher and my college professor collectively and very oppositely taught me that failure is beautiful. It is deep, profound, and suspect to interpretation. Failure motivates me and makes me human. It asks me to be more than I ever wished for, and it tells me that perfection is less than I ever wish to be. Perfection is boring; failure builds character. I hope to continue failing and growing for the rest of my life.
In my classroom, I push my kids. Sometimes, I push them a little too hard but only because I know that those moments are defining who they are becoming, very much like my college professor knew. I also carry the belief that words cut like a knife, and very much unlike my high school teacher, I am sensitive to the way I speak to my students. My job is to foster their dreams, not to dash them, and I take that job very seriously. I believe in believing. Believing and showing that you believe is perhaps the most powerful tool a teacher can arm him or herself with. Kids have amazing instincts, and they can sense a phony from a mile away. They can also sense it when you really expect them to achieve more than they think is humanly possible, and the truth is, they’ll go to the ends of the human world to show you that your dream of possibility is plausible. That’s the awesome thing about kids; they can shut off with the blink of the eye or ignite with passion and fervor when sparked. It keeps you on your toes.
At the end of last year, my honors students took part in a reflective Socratic seminar. They told me the most valuable lesson they learned all year was that failure measure your success, and failure makes them normal. They told me they can’t wait to keep failing so that they can become better people. These were the same kids who cried when they failed a comma quiz, the same kids who use to argue with me between a 95 and a 98. It was a defining moment in my career, and it’s an awesome moment to take part in when a bunch of perfection seekers realize that it’s more about the journey than the destination.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Standards: For Better or Worse
Standards, in education, are a complicated matter. I think standards come from a place where their intentions are pure, but they often become convoluted in their execution. It goes under the basic principle of high theory. On paper it looks fantastic and manageable, but when people start to use that theory, it often becomes confusing, misguided, and defeats its ultimate purpose.
That being said, I really like the idea of standards, and I support the development of national standards. Why should New Jersey have a different set of standards than Idaho? What makes children more or less capable of achieving great success based on their geographic location? If we are looking to rise to the top in the global education race, why are states working separately and against each other instead of working together to create a more cohesive unit. If the greatest educational minds in all fifty states teamed up to promote progress and authentic accountability and teaching practices, then we would give our students the first-class education they deserve.
Standards are beneficial in the way that they are almost a recipe for what a good curriculum should be made of. Now, a recipe can give you all the ingredients and directions you need to create a final product, but the product doesn't always turn out looking exactly what it should look like based on the cook's skill, work ethic, and experience. I believe standards present themselves in the same way to educators. They are mere ingredients. What you choose to do with them as an educator is completely up to you. I think they are a great tool to guide us as educators, but I also think they should be condensed and more manageable. When I look at the list of content standards for Language Arts, I often find myself bewildered. My colleagues and I recently combed over the standards in preparation for a curriculum alignment meeting between eight and ninth grade English teachers. It's amazing how much you are supposed to cover in a year. We came to the conclusion that the magnitude of the list often spreads our teaching thin. We should be using standards that teach towards mastery, not towards a general survey. The shear magnitude of the list is probably the biggest obstacle to overcome in terms of standards.
In my current district we do adhere to the standards. Our lessons are driven by them with clear objectives and activities and assessments that strive to meet those standards, but I must say, I am in a fortunate situation. My school and administrators give us the freedom to take risks and experiment with curriculum. Our students are basically driven and like learning, and parents are very supportive. It is an ideal setting to work with standards. I have worked in an urban district where my situation was quite the opposite. I sometimes found myself working with standards that were far below grade level due to the fact that my students weren't always present in class and there was little to no support from the parents or the administration. I longed to really educate, but by the time I was educating these students in their high school years, they had gotten used to the idea of busy work and not challenging themselves. It was disheartening, and I refused to accept less than what they were capable of doing. I believe that standards and curriculum need to be present in ALL school districts, even if the odds are working against you. Perhaps, that is when standards are needed most. The combination of dedication, passion, and high expectations, can help to make any school a place of success.
At the end of the day, we all need goals to live up to as educators. Standards give us a place to start, but it is our job as educators to infuse those standards with passion, enlightenment, and a true connection to reality for our students. The task can often look daunting, but we owe it to our students to give them every opportunity to be successful in the world they are about to enter as adults.
That being said, I really like the idea of standards, and I support the development of national standards. Why should New Jersey have a different set of standards than Idaho? What makes children more or less capable of achieving great success based on their geographic location? If we are looking to rise to the top in the global education race, why are states working separately and against each other instead of working together to create a more cohesive unit. If the greatest educational minds in all fifty states teamed up to promote progress and authentic accountability and teaching practices, then we would give our students the first-class education they deserve.
Standards are beneficial in the way that they are almost a recipe for what a good curriculum should be made of. Now, a recipe can give you all the ingredients and directions you need to create a final product, but the product doesn't always turn out looking exactly what it should look like based on the cook's skill, work ethic, and experience. I believe standards present themselves in the same way to educators. They are mere ingredients. What you choose to do with them as an educator is completely up to you. I think they are a great tool to guide us as educators, but I also think they should be condensed and more manageable. When I look at the list of content standards for Language Arts, I often find myself bewildered. My colleagues and I recently combed over the standards in preparation for a curriculum alignment meeting between eight and ninth grade English teachers. It's amazing how much you are supposed to cover in a year. We came to the conclusion that the magnitude of the list often spreads our teaching thin. We should be using standards that teach towards mastery, not towards a general survey. The shear magnitude of the list is probably the biggest obstacle to overcome in terms of standards.
In my current district we do adhere to the standards. Our lessons are driven by them with clear objectives and activities and assessments that strive to meet those standards, but I must say, I am in a fortunate situation. My school and administrators give us the freedom to take risks and experiment with curriculum. Our students are basically driven and like learning, and parents are very supportive. It is an ideal setting to work with standards. I have worked in an urban district where my situation was quite the opposite. I sometimes found myself working with standards that were far below grade level due to the fact that my students weren't always present in class and there was little to no support from the parents or the administration. I longed to really educate, but by the time I was educating these students in their high school years, they had gotten used to the idea of busy work and not challenging themselves. It was disheartening, and I refused to accept less than what they were capable of doing. I believe that standards and curriculum need to be present in ALL school districts, even if the odds are working against you. Perhaps, that is when standards are needed most. The combination of dedication, passion, and high expectations, can help to make any school a place of success.
At the end of the day, we all need goals to live up to as educators. Standards give us a place to start, but it is our job as educators to infuse those standards with passion, enlightenment, and a true connection to reality for our students. The task can often look daunting, but we owe it to our students to give them every opportunity to be successful in the world they are about to enter as adults.
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