Be the change, change, classroom expectations, guest blog

Flying Above the Radar

With the arrival of our twins, I asked for guest bloggers and was super excited to share this post with all of you by Kaitlyn Gentry…

Too often in education, and in life, people aim to fly under the radar. No one wants to fail, but appearing overtly successful makes a lot of people uncomfortable. It is like a cultural regression towards the mean. Occasionally people fly high and norms are challenged, but aren’t those are statistical anomalies, ones that can be corrected with a wider data sample or retests? Why would a tiny point continue to appear above the radar, outside of that regular curve?

            My previous year was a successful one: students grew, parents were happy, and I emerged from my first year as a third grade teacher unscathed. But that is what happens when you fly below the radar. Soon thoughts began creeping in…Why had the year gone so smoothly? It must have been those sticker charts and earned recess minutes, those warnings of “this is impacting your conduct grade”, the “If I were taking this test, I’d be paying close attention to the chart of page 52.” The carefully calculated control I wielded over my group of eighteen boys had allowed for effortless success; except when it didn’t. Those small failures: students no longer caring to earn extra recess because they saw through the ploy, boys ignoring the conduct grade pleas, memorization of the chart on page 52, without understanding the chart. These were easily explained away: these are the strategies that everyone uses, the boys are ready for summer, the required chart on page 52 is actually pretty boring.
Enter the outlier.
I realized I was wrong. Those excuses were just that, excuses, and I began to see that I wasn’t alone in my thinking. There was a cluster appearing outside of the curve…a conversation was growing about the amount of control exerted upon our students, about the threats of grades, homework, lost recess, and the more subtle “positive reinforcement” of earning stickers or treats to memorize, regurgitate, and perform in lock-step fashion. I realized that in order to make my next year a true success it was not going to be smooth, within the curve, or below the radar.
This year was messy: filled with conversations about citizenship, having a voice, effort, reflection, process over product, and growth over grades. Instead of discussing their monthly grades, each student wrote a reflection paper, covering areas of growth and difficulty in every subject, which we reviewed together. These reflections also went home at the front of their folder, to be reviewed with parents, before grades were discussed if they chose to do so. Instead of removing or adding recess time for talking in the hallways, we discussed the impact of showing respect for the other classes in session. Writing assignments were no longer assigned a letter, instead I wrote to each student on their papers, citing strengths and areas for improvement. My students did not simply “aim for an A,” but sought to improve their writing mechanics, structure, creativity, or detail. Not only did this allow my students to understand specific and measurable goals, but it also helped them take responsibility for their growth. They were not relying on me to “hand down” their grade, they were able to improve by focusing on specific skills.  I eliminated many of the multiple choice tests and created projects which gave the students choices to experience authentic learning opportunities. They were no longer memorizing empty facts about the medieval time period; instead they were investigating the history of medieval warfare to design a realistic video game and “teaser video.” I stopped assigning stickers for books read or neatness. Instead, I learned about what my students liked to read, and why. We discussed beautiful artwork and made connnections between finished art and final papers, with students remarking that craftsmanship is present in both. It was eye-opening to realize how I devalued both of these areas by simply assigning stickers for completion, insteading of encouraging a conversation to occur. I was at times very uncomfortable, and so were my students, but our existence above the radar was making a real impact. Conversations were starting in classrooms nearby, students were responding, and growth was happening. Could I view this year as more of a success?  
Enter the point under the radar.
It was one sentence on a final student survey: “I look like I know what I am doing in compositions, but sometimes I do not; next year look for the boys who don’t stand out.” I had missed one…A tiny, small voice, hidden below the radar. In all of my efforts to reach each student, to listen to them, to support their individual growth, I had overlooked at least one. He was reaching out now, but it was too late, the final desk cleaned, the last locker emptied.
However, his message will help me not regress towards the mean, because the mean is created by those who have already deemed their methods as successful, instead of striving for more. I will not count this year as a “success” because I missed at least one, there is much more to be done, and next year I will continue to be an outlier, to work beyond the curve to reach each student, even those hidden safely below the radar.
Bio of Kaitlyn Gentry:
I am entering into my fifth year of teaching, and my third year with my third grade boys at Calvert School in Baltimore, Maryland. I attended Calvert, and I feel fortunate to be able to give back to such a wonderful community where I am encouraged to explore, take risks, make mistakes, and to grow alongside my students everyday. I have loved establishing a PLN through twitter (@mk8g) this year and write about my ever evolving pedagogy on my classroom blog (http://ninthageboys9-1.blogspot.com/) to teach my students not to just be “consumers,” but “producers” as well!

Be the change

We Cannot All Be the Best

Be the example!  Set the bar high so others will rise to it!  We want to be a beacon school!  How often do we hear all of these statements in education.  Be the best teacher you can be…Be the one others want to emulate…Be the best school…the best team…the best everything.  And yet, we cannot all be the best. The whole notion of the term “best” automatically excludes most of us.

So instead of striving to be THE best, how about we strive to be better?  To change things?  To inspire others?  To motivate? To set grand examples while still learning from others?  The truth is if we were all beacon schools no one would be able to see us from the glare.  So shine bright yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to shine the brightest because then all you do is blind others.  

alfie kohn, assessment, Be the change, being a teacher, change, choices, grades, homework

Change Doesn’t Have to be All or Nothing

I remember the first orientation day when I had to face parents and explain to them that their child would probably not have much homework in my classroom.  I remember the fear that almost made me choke on my words, the way I had to remind myself to look up, the way I held my breath waiting for a reaction.  Then I added that instead of letter grades students would get feedback and we would set goals, grades would only show up on trimester report cards and no where else.  By now I was breaking into a cold sweat, my stomach churning, hands were clammy.  Somebody had to react, and then…nothing.  No raised hands, no sour faces, just a quiet wait for what else I had to share. 

Big changes for sure coming from this sophomore teacher.  Big changes that I felt had been necessary for me to be a better teacher and to provide a better education for the students.  Big changes that I had decided to do all at once.  And yet, you don’t have to.  Even though I speak passionately about how throwing out grades or limiting homework has been the best decision I have ever made, that is exactly it; it was my decision.  Something that I knew I had to do to restore my sanity, my passion for teaching.  And yet, that doesn’t mean it is going to work for you.  Perhaps my ideas are too extreme, or just do not fit with your educational philosophy and that is perfectly fine.  But maybe, just maybe, you would be willing to try it for just one little assignment?

Perhaps you are curious but just not ready to go all out.  Perhaps the idea of limiting homework overall sounds insane but maybe it could be tried for a unit?  Perhaps rather than a letter grade, for one project, feedback could be given or students could assess themselves?  Perhaps just trying something different one time will work better for you?  Perhaps, you might like it, perhaps you wont, but perhaps one time will change your mind?

As a first year teacher, if someone had told me to limit homework, or to get rid of grades, I would have rolled my eyes and not listened.  I would have thought them radical, extreme, or totally clueless.  I was not ready for that type of teaching.  I was not ready to take my teaching in that direction.  That direction had to come from within me, the timing had to be right, as did the purpose.   And that is ok.  It is ok to not embrace what Alfie Kohn says.  It is ok to have faith in whatever one believes is the way to teach, there is room for us all in education.  But perhaps, we should all try something else, just once, and then see if that change is meant for us or not. 

Be the change, being a teacher, control, difference, mistakes

Oh No, Not Another Change – Why Stay Skeptical When Curiosity is More Fun?

Image from icanread

A new curriculum is announced for next school year… again.  Every year since I have started something new has been introduced and so I find myself in the back of the group, murmuring about how once again something new is coming, more money being spent, more time needed to learn, to understand, to adapt.  Once again I have to rewrite everything.  Once again; change.  I go home and discuss it with Brandon who stops me in my tracks with a simple question; why not get excited about it?  And I think, yes, why not, indeed?

Why not replace my skepticism with curiosity?  Why not embrace the new like I do within my own classroom; try it out and then judge it.  Why am I, already, after only 4 years of changing turning into that teacher, you know, the one that is quick to judge.  The one that jumps to conclusions, the one that wants things to stay the same because they are not broken and do not need to be fixed, thank you very much.  I change things every year, I hardly ever use the same lessons, I change so it fits my kids, my mood and my goals.  I change because if I became static I would be bored out of my mind and few things are worse than a bored teacher  So why am I already so stuck in my teaching ways that I have to be the one adding negative thoughts to a new initiative?  I don’t know how that happened so soon.

So I renew my vow of positivity.  I want to embrace the new, which does not mean going into it blind, but rather than I will stay open to it.  I will explore it, adapt it and make it work for me.  I will give things a change, suspend my judge.  Stay curious and not assume it will be awful.  I am much too young to be so stuck in my ways and that is a healthy lesson for me to learn.  Let’s hope I don’t forget it.

Be the change, being me, challenge, life choices

I Must Apologize Beforehand – A Serial Apologizer Apologizes

Image from here

I have to start out by saying I am sorry for what I am about to post.  It may offend, it may irk you a little, so thus the apology beforehand.  See there now you are disarmed and perhaps it wont really be so bad, after all, the apology has already been given.

I am serial apologizer.  Not for my life really but for the way I teach.  I don’t flash the way I work in my classroom, which sounds ludicrous since I blog about it, but if you catch me in conversation, I am not one to tell you that what my kids do is pretty spectacular.  That the kind of community I am part sometimes makes me deliriously happy.  That I am so proud of all the work my students do, of the risks we take, and the mountains we climb.  I don’t flaunt it because that would be too offensive.

And yet, for every time I hide what I do.  For every time I don’t stand by the choices I have made in case I may offend someone, I chip away at my own desire as a teacher to be a world changer.  My own world, the world of my students, and perhaps even the greater world outside of my room.  For every time I wrap my teaching philosophy in apologies a little bit of it gets duller, less fantastic, until I wonder what I will be left with.

So why is it I feel the need to apologize?  Because I am different?  Because I have opinions?  Because I vehemently believe that the focus has to be on the needs of the students and not that of the teacher?  Because I believe in honest communication and not veiled lingo?  Because I believe that you have to fight for change from within in any way you can and give your students that voice?  Because I believe that we have to get the students involved in their own education so we don’t lose them, after all education should not be done to them but with them?

I am not sure, I am sorry, I really don’t know  But it is making me think that I need to stop.  I am starting to think that I need to stand by what I do a little taller, a little prouder and not diminish the choices I have made.  The choice to be different in an otherwise cookie-cutter educational system because it is what I believe in.  The choice to throw away punishment, lecturing, homework and grades as much as I can and instead focus on knowledge, exploration and the need to fail over and over again.  The choice to change, the choice to not do it the way I was taught, and the choice to take risks.  After all, it is working, I am sorry, but it is true.

Be the change, being a teacher, mistakes, reflecting

We Need More Courageous Conversations

I am wrong.  I made a mistake.  It didn’t work.  These are all words I have had to say frequently in all of the years of my teaching career.  They are not easy to say, nor easy to swallow, and yet those words are what have made me the educator I am today; someone who reflects, someone who realizes they are human, someone who admits fault.

In education we often put ourselves on pedestals, assuming no wrong.  We have all of the answers because that is what we need to have.  We have the solutions, the right ways.  We are trained professionals after all.  Except we don’t always have those answers, or the right way to do something.  Things may not always work and the students do not always get the best education.

We must learn to admit when we are wrong.  We must learn to reflect upon our mistakes and make ourselves better.  We must realize we are not perfect and that others don’t expect us to be.  We must have these courageous conversations about our own teaching, our grade levels, our classroom, and our schools.  We must reflect, we must discuss, and we must learn.  If we all fall under the illusion of perfection we will never change the way we do teaching.  We will never change to be better.  Our students will never learn from s that mistakes are glorious occasions that move us forward.  Start the conversation with yourself and then spread it.  All it takes is one courageous person to set the example.

And right after I sent this out Chad Lehman reminded me that we need courageous actions.  He is so right; take your courageous conversations and turn them into action.