being me, labels, questions, students

Does Teachers Having Background Knowledge on New Students Harm Them?

Early on in my life, I was labeled smart, something I have discussed in other posts.  This distinction wasn’t given to me because I proved myself in class or because I excelled in all academics.  The label had in fact been bestowed upon me because I had started school when I just turned 5, rather than the normal age of 6 in Denmark.  Unfortunately, I was the perpetual underachiever that just floated by unless I really, really cared about something such as creative writing and yet the label stuck through all of my years of schooling.

That label “smart” though had its advantages; teachers viewed me with a favorable lens, even when I really had no clue what I was doing.  I was assumed to be not working hard when in all actuality I really was so lost I couldn’t explain many things.  And the teachers did most of the work for me,  it worked perfectly since from year to year my old teachers would tell my new teachers that I was smart and so the year was set.  I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, just sit through the barrage of parent teacher conferences where my mother was told numerous times how I wasn’t applying myself.

Some may say that my teachers saw something in me that I had not recognized myself yet, and to them I say, sure…  But what is more intriguing here is really that label teachers bestow upon children and how it tends to stick with them.  They say that first impressions count and nowhere is that truer than in an educational setting.  Often by the time our students start in our classrooms, we know a little about them, maybe not all of them, but most.  We may have spoken to their previous teacher or we may know their family, or in the very least have heard of them.  Sometimes they come with a file thicker than my arm, other times they are a vast mysterious until we have our first class.  And yet, we think we have them pegged very quickly.  I often wonder how much of a different perspective one could get of a student if the first class you had with them was one in which they excelled?

So can we move away from our assumptions?  Are we, in fact, creating a barrier between us and the real student by having “background knowledge” about them?  Can we stop labeling students or is this hardwired into our nature?

education reform, students

Come Into Our Room

You say our kids are failing, not learning enough.  I say come into my room and see these kids.  Come into my room and tell them to their face that are failing, that they are not doing enough to learn.  To maintain, to comprehend, to test better.  Those kids you talk about happen to be my kids as well.  Those kids you mention in your articles, in your rhetoric, in your posts that tell us teachers that we are not doing enough, those kids are in my room.  And those kids…. they work and they work hard.

They get so excited sometimes that they yell out.  They get so loud in their planning that I just let them work because I don’t want to intrude.  They break their pencils because they just want to scribble so fast when inspiration strikes. They come to me and wonder what else can we do?  What other things may we try?  Is this idea any good?  And I say yes, try it, do it, think it, dream it.  You may not think that our kids are doing enough in school.  You may not think that our kids are learning enough.  I say, come into my room and we will prove you wrong.

students, testing

When We Compare Test Scores

When we compare students based on test scores, we assume that when they took the test…

  • They have had a good night’s sleep
  • They are not hungry
  • They do not have any family or friendships issues distracting them
  • They have all had access to the same information
  • They have all had the same chance for practice
  • They have all had the same teaching leading up to the test
  • They all have the same type environment in which to take the test
  • They all speak and understand English at the same level

What if just one of those assumptions is incorrect, or worse,  what if they all are?

being a teacher, students

Ability Grouping Versus Tracking – What’s in a Name?

For a while now I have been wondering about the language we use as we group our students.  Not so much the labels we use but the method of grouping used.  For guided reading, you are supposed to group students at their reading level, which then in turn creates ability groups.  This is considered a great thing for teaching students at their targeted levels.  And I tend to agree, I do some whole class book discussions but for deeper teaching of reading strategies I like to meet with smaller groups to discuss pertinent strategies with books they can understand.  And that according the guided reading is what I should be doing; placing students with similar leveled students or similar skilled students so that they can work at the same task.

For math you can do flex grouping, also based somewhat on ability as determined through pre-tests and personalties, and this too is totally permissible.  It allows for smaller groups and different pacing of curriculum, as well as remediation and enrichment.

Yet, if you take away the gentler names and introduce the word “tracking”, then both of these scenarios lose their luster.  So I wonder, out loud as usual, is ability grouping really just tracking with a kinder name?

If we ability group in elementary are we setting students on their path for the rest of their academic career or are we indeed teaching them within their zone of proximal development and then spurring further growth?  Are we able to group students in such a way that all are challenged at their level without breaking them apart?  Can we effectively meet every single child’s needs within in a classroom setting during our instruction time without identifying which skill they specifically need to work on and them grouping them to work on them?

I would love your thoughts on this.

being a teacher, failure, students

When Students Are Afraid to Try

Today it smacked me right in the face; what I am so disheartened over, what I am fighting to end, what I think is one of the downfalls of the way we educate.  It wasn’t something grand, nor something I had expected and yet there it was; taunting me to do something about it, making me feel oh so powerless.  What was this beast, you ask, fore it must have been epic?  Well, in my world it was because it was kids afraid to try…

My kids, those who I fail in front of all of the time.  Those kids who are not afraid to try something new, to create, to think of wacky ideas.  Those kids that try again and again and again every day, they just froze.  Came to me in droves, asking for help, giving up without even putting their pencil to the paper.  The culprit?  Having to create a data-set that fit the clues; one math problem.  Frustrated at first I told them to just try, mess around with some numbers, attack it whichever way they thought made sense.  Just do something.  And yet they didn’t.  They had given up, they had surrendered to this math problem, it simply made them feel stupid.

So this evening, sitting at the dinner table I shared my story with Brandon, who does more teacher reflection than the average teacher it seems.  I asked “Why?  Why were they so afraid to try?”  He stated, “Failure.”  And I think he is right.  My kids, my adventurous, smart 5th graders, were afraid to fail.  Were afraid to not get it right, so instead of trying it, they simply refused.  That way I would have to show them how, I would never know that they were not smart enough to do it, I would never know that this itty bitty problem had matched them, even if none of this was true.

So what do we do when the kids are afraid to even try?  What do we do when all of the times we have failed in front of them is forgotten?  When they have started to believe that if they cannot get it right, they should not even attempt it?  I have a classroom were we thrive on failed attempts, learn from our mistakes, and always pick ourselves up and yet today that all vanished.  Tomorrow it will be back, I am sure, those kids will be daring again, but today, they were simply scared and all I can think to myself is; what have we done to our kids?

being a teacher, lessons learned, students

10 + 1 Lessons I Learned the Hard Way

Image from here

Sometimes life smacks you in the face and makes you change your ways for the better.  Fortunately in education, this happens quite a bit, unfortunately it is not always in the most pleasant way.  I present a list of my lessons I learned the hard way.

  1. You may be really excited about something but that does not mean anyone else will be.  I joined Twitter more than a year ago and I have yet to convince anyone close to me of its value.  I remain undeterred in my plug for Twitter but at the same time also realize that perhaps they just don’t want to join.
  2. When you make a lot of changes, not everyone will think they are great.  I have changed many things in my classroom and while I see all of the amazing benefits, not everyone does.  I have many critics and my skin has grown a lot thicker, and yet, ouch.
  3. Not everyone wants to hear your opinion, even if you think it s a good one.  
  4. Not all parents want less homework.  I thought every parent would stand up and cheer at my decision to nearly eliminate homework, but no, some want a lot of homework for their children for various reasons.  I now encourage open dialogue on it and help out where I can.
  5. Lecturing does not engage – and neither does raising your voice and scolding the kids when they tune out.  I figured this one out after 2 years of teaching with glazed over eyes and less than enthusiastic students.  Now I look back at those two first years and shudder.
  6. Rewards diminish the learning.  I used to be a rewards fanatic but realized that kids focused more on which sticker they got then the feedback I gave them.  I also created a class divide in my room with the have’s and the have not’s.  If only I could tell all of those kids that I am sorry for what I did.
  7. When you think everything is going great, you are about to crash.  I don’t know how many times I have been on a teaching high only to crash and burn wickedly.  Life changes quickly, so enjoy the “high” while you can.
  8. Putting your thoughts on a blog means everyone wants to debate with you.  Some will cheer, some will challenge, and some will just downright criticize.  Either way, you have to take the good with the bad; it is all part of developing your voice.
  9. Even the best classroom can have a bad day.  I used to beat myself up wondering what went wrong when the day feel apart.  Then I realized that sometimes there is just nothing to do it about it that day, what matters is that you start over the next day.
  10. I am not always right, even if I really, really want to be.  I have some pretty strong opinions and fortunately for me, sometimes they change.  That means I have had to apologize to people, publicly state the change and eat crow in a number of ways.  This is a not a bad thing, but a human thing.
  11. I am not the only teacher in the room.  I thought I was the ultimate authority on everything in my room, and loved to share my vast knowledge into those empty vessels that were my kids.  What a rude awakening when I realized that my students are not blank slates.  Now I remind myself daily to step aside and let them explore and teach each other and me.