Why I won't be teaching math next year.

This post has been a long time coming.  I haven't been happy with the rush of standardized testing and the effect it has on both my ability to prepare students for life after high school as well as the rush for districts to choose boxed-style curriculum, taking away the creativity and undermining the teaching ability of the classroom teacher.

I don't teach to the test.  I don't do a lot of things that teachers of math who know their very jobs rely on how their students' scores on said tests probably should.  I see the frustration in my students' eyes when I don't have enough time or they don't have enough ability to embrace abstract concepts.  I see the frustration with focusing on one test at the end of the year instead of seeing through to the rest of their lives.

So today, I offer my resignation to teaching math.  Next year, I will be teaching students.  There may happen to be math involved, but my students will come first.

Don't you think they deserve it?

Failure is not a destination...

My nephew is in the 7th grade.  There are less than two months before the end of the school year, and he is failing.  He has been failing all year.  My sister didn't tell me until last week and my heart is broken for him.

I know he's probably not the best behaved student in the class.  He's one of the youngest in his grade and is a very active kid.  He plays just about every sport possible and spends lots of time outside or playing with friends.  He's a good kid, but I'm sure it's hard for him to focus on school because "sit and get" is not his strength.

He's not very different from many students I know.  When classes aren't interesting, I'm sure he checks out.  Whatever the case may be, he hasn't been learning everything his teachers have been teaching.

If a student fails the homework and fails the test, they haven't learned what I was teaching.  I haven't done my job.  It is still my job to teach them, even if that's in the form of remediation.  I know it sounds like a lot of work, but that's my job.  My responsibility is to teach, not just provide information.

This isn't just because I teach students with IEPs and accommodations, this is because I teach students who are also human beings.

If I could go back to the beginning of the year and make sure my sister knew what to say to or ask of my nephew's teachers, he may not be failing now.  I'd tell her when would be an appropriate time to contact the principal, attend a parent-teacher conference with her to find out more information, offer to observe him in class, or help him after school.  There are a lot of processes I understand because I am a teacher.  It's easy to forget that parents don't understand or know that protocol.  That's why the burden falls on us to communicate with parents.

There are many lessons to be learned from failure.  But for the sake of my nephew and the other kids out there, please make sure failure is just a place along their path, not a destination.

Should I Tech This Lesson? Guiding Questions

Teachers who do not know me well often know me as the techie teacher.  I don't really have a problem with this, except when it sends the message that I use technology in my classroom solely because I like technology.  In a previous post, I gave some examples of "Why I Tech" from a teacher planning standpoint.  I acknowledge that my entire thought process happens in my head and it can sometimes be viewed as flippant decision rather than an intentional, calculated choice.  Today, I'd like to give some more details on what goes through me head when I make decisions regarding technology use with students in the classroom.

Guiding questions when considering technology technology use in your classroom:

1. Are you prepared to effectively manage technology use during this lesson?

No: Don't use it, seek out resources for properly managing student use

Yes: Proceed to next question

2. Can the lesson be taught without the use of technology?

No: Not really a choice, gotta use it

Yes: Proceed to next question

3. Will using technology improve the quality of learning for this lesson?

No: Possible overuse, consider next question

Yes: Go for it

4. Will using technology improve positive student engagement in this lesson?

No: Likely overuse

Yes: Don't forget to have students engage each other and not just the technology.

My definition:

Overuse: Using tech for the sake of using tech. It should benefit the lesson not just replace a pencil or paper.

The language I use here suggests likeliness of overuse, not certainty.  If there's anything I know, it's that every situation is different.  You are the master of your classroom.  Never let someone's list tell you any different.  This is just what I consider.  Take it or leave it.

The only "No" I fear is the "No" I tell myself

Sometimes I just write in the notes app on my phone.  A line gets stuck in my head and I have to keep it.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the advice I give my students.  I tell them often, "If you don't ask, it's an automatic 'No.'"  I encourage my students not to give up on themselves.  I challenge them not to let others decide how they feel about themselves.  Even as some of them turn 18, my students are still children after all.  Nothing wrong with that, but they have so much left to live, so much yet to grow.  They have so much yet to learn.  Both about the world and their potential.

So here is my advice, do with it as you wish:

The only 'No' I fear is the 'No' I tell myself. 

So I'll keep asking, but not for permission*.

I'll keep dreaming, but not of chances I didn't take.

I'll keep wishing on shooting stars, but not because I don't have the power to make wishes come true.

*[Permission is philosophical here, to further your knowledge and decide your destiny.  Students, you still have to ask before leaving the classroom.]

Don't forget to follow your own advice.  What will you accomplish when you stop telling yourself "No"?

Two questions I haven't heard in my classroom this year.

I may have fooled my students into thinking I was a better teacher this year...

Short story:

1. Is this for a grade?

2. Why are we doing this?

Two questions I haven't heard in my classroom this year.

#micdrop

Not-so-short story:

Do you ever just stand in your classroom in awe that your students have done as you instructed?  Sometimes I think to myself: "They have free-will and have still chosen to follow my instructions."  It's kind of amazing.  My goal isn't to have a classroom full of quiet compliance, but the sound of my students individually problem-solving is music to my ears.  When I first started at my school four years ago, it was a struggle to get students involved in the lesson and trying.  I actually did an in-flip classroom and had students on individualized learning tracks.  It was easy to make it through a walk-through.  When my principal came to observe, she was just happy my students were engaged and doing math.  Sometimes I have to remind myself just how far my students have already come.

I'd like to think it's because all my lessons are that engaging.  (I wish.) I'm sure it's at least partly because I mix technology and student choice and take preferences to learning styles into account when lesson planning.  (Probably a big part of this).

I have a feeling it's mostly because I make a promise to my students at the beginning of the year to not give them work just for the sake of work.  Busy work is not my thing.  When we begin units, and lessons, and activities, I explain the why along with the what, so they aren't left wondering.

That relationship, that rapport, the trust.  That's what makes my classroom a better classroom this year, but this is not the first year I have noticed it.  This is the first year I have given myself the credit for building that kind of classroom.

Is there a place in the teacher evaluation process that celebrates and encourages that?  There needs to be more of that.

What is something you rocked this school year?  Give yourself credit for your hard work and dedication.

3/18/16 Friday PD: ACT Aspire data, IPI + SAMR

This week, we spent Friday PD as a large group.  We went over ACT Aspire data and the results from our latest IPI-T data collection (Instructional Practices Inventory-Technology*) as well as comparing this to our previous data collection in September.  Then we were given a brief overview of the SAMR model* guiding tech use in the classroom.  (For those who do not know its Substitution, Augmentation, Modification, Redefinition).  I can go into more detail on these, but even though I've been through trainings on both, I'm not an expert on either of these, just because it wasn't anything I didn't know already, but most of our staff had little to no experience with this before.

*Note: If you are viewing this and you don't know what IPI and SAMR are, you should look them up (it's ok, you're already on the Internet).  I don't claim to be an expert in this post and Google keyword searches are allowed in the real world.*

After all of this, we were put into groups and given roles, an IPI level, a SAMR level, and a random topic (ours was fruit snacks, others included donuts, coffee, reality tv).  We were tasked with creating a lesson to fit our given IPI and SAMR levels.  It was nice to work with a cross-curricular group and come up with something entirely off the wall.  It was refreshing to see a group of educators who usually exclusively sits for PD, up on their feet talking and sharing.

All-in-all, it good PD.  We learned some information and then did an activity to show our understanding.

Here are my take-aways:

1. Of a 60-minute PD, ten minutes of this was spent at a level 5 for IPI (student learning conversations). But this not being "new" material to many of us, this also could be argued as a level 3 (student work, teacher supervised), but err on the side of the higher score.  So as a PD, we spent 10 min/60 min = 1/6 = approx 16.7% at a level 5.  Which means...

2. Of a 60-minute PD, we spent 50 minutes at a level 4 (teacher-led instruction). So as a PD, we spent 50 min/60 min = 5/6 = approx 83.3% at a level 4.

3. If conducting IPI collections during PD at the same rate as classrooms, it is likely we wouldn't have scored our PD as "higher level thinking", but rather teacher-led instruction.

4. Remember, and I cannot say it enough:  Jerry Valentine stresses that there is need and room for all of the levels except  one (1 complete disengagement).  "3s and 4s are ok" is basically a direct quote from the man, who did my training last year.  We shouldn't feel like kids need to always be at 5s and 6s, we just want to try to get them there often.

Here are some take-away a from PD that I'm not sure were intended:

5. With reflection, I just took our PD to a 6! (Also using SAMR level Modofication because I am able to collaborate with others through the blog and build on these ideas, which could cross over into Redefinition of following up on a Twitter chat or Voxer group)...I know, I know, I just geeked out on you.  Sorry.

5. In ten minutes working with our peers, we came up with the start of an amazing lesson that is cool, but doesn't have any practicality in our respective classrooms right now (i.e., Except for a few select classes, we can't go in on Monday and use that lesson). BUT, imagine what we could do if we had all 60 minutes to make something that we could use in our own classroom.

In summary:

If the desired result is higher-level lessons in our classrooms, we need to spend more time in higher level professional development.

What's Your Warning Label?

I require a warning label.

I recently had a discussion with a friend about warning labels on foods and household products which eventually led to us pondering the warning labels that would help us better understand our students.

"I didn't sleep last night (so I'm sorry I put my head down during independent work today)"

"I don't know where my next meal is coming from (so I'm sorry if don't have a pencil when I arrived in class)"

"Someone sold my meds (so I'm sorry I can't focus today and the next month until I can get a refill)"

"My dad got arrested last night (so I'm sorry your assignment wasn't my first priority)"

"I stay home to take care of my siblings (so I'm sorry I miss school a lot)"

There are some more complicated ones than that, but, unfortunately, they are all too similar.  The point I want to make is there are things below the surface that we don't experience, that we don't see or know about unless our students trust us and open up.  Some of my students I would know right away, others I can only guess.

Teachers have warning labels too.  We wear many hats, so ours are big labels.  Here's mine, both as a teacher and a person.

"I understand I'm not always the easiest person to deal with.  I set high expectations for myself and those around me because I want to be the best version of myself.  I'm stubborn and I talk too much.  My impatience could occasionally be described as self-destructive.  I sometimes dig too deep in my quest to understand nuances in daily life.  Just because I don't shout my daily successes from the rooftops doesn't mean I'm not happy.  I stand by my friends through thick and thin.  I offer help to strangers stranded on the side of the road.  I play the role of "parent" to many of my students, even when carrying their stories and burdens threatens to break me emotionally.  My good qualities far outweigh the bad.  I'll still be willing to help you, friend or not, student or not, on your worst day, but I'll understand if you're not there for me on mine.

I require a warning label, but only because I care too much instead of not enough."

 And at its core, the same can be said about most of my students.  They just have different ways of showing it.

What's your warning label?  How are you a different teacher because of it?