Long Hiatus- Operation Everybody Graduates

Greetings cyberspace. It's been some time since I posted last. I'd like to list all of the excuses I have for forgetting my commitment to sharing part of my journey to being a better educator, but they are trivial. Time, motivation, personal crises aside, I have missed writing about what is near and dear to my heart- making public education into what all of our kids deserve. One of the things that has taken up much of my time lately is kinda silly- I've been changing my diet drastically. I am transitioning to being a vegan, and I've been researching a lot of vegan recipes and raw vegan meals. Of course, my commitment to the earth and all its inhabitants remains strong, and this for me is another step towards being a better steward of the earth. Now I say I am "transitioning" for a few reasons. First and foremost- if someone were to put a slice of cheEditese pizza in front of me I'd certainly oblige. I was raised to be gracious for all generosity that is offered, but mostly for food. To say 'no' to food is outrageously rude-- Italians are funny that way. I also call my journey a transition because I have slowly transitioned animal products out of my diet. The toughest was cow's milk, because I drank it twice a day. But, I have discovered two incredible substitutes- coconut milk and almond milk. Both are yummy straight up, but also make a nice bowl of fruit and granola, are a good addition to your coffee or tea, and make a phenomenal smoothie. Those are my new obsession- smoothies. Every day for breakfast, I have a super green smoothie- it powers my mind and body for the day. I look at this as part of being the best human I can on all fronts- professionally, personally, I am more level headed, I have more energy and stamina, and that makes me a better role model for my kids, my niece and nephews, a better sister and friend.

Two rather profound things happened this week, and ironically, both happened on Friday. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence, maybe the universe was looking for me to learn something big yesterday. So, I was having a conversation with my principal, asking her to help me and a colleague scrape together some funds to help pay for us to go to FETC (Florida Educational Technology Conference) this January. We submitted a proposal to speak at the conference and were accepted. But they only cover one registration, and we would also have the travel expenses to deal with, along with lodging and food. We had a fantastic conversation, and I am so grateful for her support, it helps to be part of something amazing, and to know you're appreciated. But she did mention that the people who make these decisions have the philosophy that it's not in their best interest to fund a trip for teachers to go speak at a conference, because if the objective of the trip is for us to speak, then it's not like we're learning something new to bring back and contribute. I can certainly see things from that perspective, especially when times are as financially tight as they are. But it made me wonder-- when did it stop being an expectation that teachers share with each other? When did our role become that of a receptacle, a bucket to collect drops of information to organize, plan, and then hand off to students? One of the things we know about learning is that you remember 10% of what we read,20% of what we hear,30% of what we see,50% of what we see and hear, 70% of what we discuss with others, 80% of what we personally experience, 95% of what we teach others (Edgar Dale). Does this theory only apply to students? It's interesting that in times of financial scrutiny, decision makers often cut corners where we need the funding most, and place weird amounts of value in things that we could live without. But right now that's not for me to decide. Nevertheless, I dream of the day when teachers are valued as the professionals they are, complete with the salary, the support, the pride and respect, and the quality of life. In the end, though, as it relates to my discussion, (and this is another reason I am grateful to be in such a phenomenal school community, with great leaders, colleagues, gush gush gush...) I was given some good information by my esteemed principal about how I could write a proposal that would go to said decision makers, which would highlight the professional development that we would benefit from and be able to bring back to our school. I'll take what I can get, and run with it.

OK, so onto enlightenment number two. So, I have been trying to coach one of the grasshoppers through some rough patches in the overall attitude department and back on track. Some things have happened of late which have left me frustrated and feeling inadequate, not to mentioned worried for grasshopper. I ended up having a conversation with the dean yesterday regarding some of the things we've been dealing with, and despite the support and faith in her leadership, I have just not felt right about the situation. And I had a sore throat and was getting more tied by the second. Convinced I was coming down with the contagious creeping crud that has been spreading through the student body like the plague, despite my Emergen-C loading and super green smoothie drinking, I came straight home, got into my sweats and plopped myself on the couch. It was then that the awareness happened. I was flipping through the channel guide, and even though I have 198 cable channels, there was NUH THING on that thrilled me. I saw that a show called "Brick City" was on Sundance, and it sounded interesting, so I tuned in. And I was fascinated. It was a documentary about the efforts by the mayor of Newark, NJ, along with his director of police, and local social activists, to drastically decrease violent crime in the city during the summer of 2008. I watched for 6 hours straight- my eyes glued to the tv like they were giving away cash money. There were many things that opened my eyes about the situation at school, and many comments that inspired me. For instance, "It takes a man to teach a boy how to be a man." And I realized why we need more male role models in schools, and how young men are effected by not having a strong male role model in their lives. My eyes were also opened to the importance of community, and teaching kids about having a moral compass, and how reform cannot happen unless everyone is involved, and how great things don't happen unless adversity helps steer the ship. We can't even think about reforming education unless we reform how people live and think, unless we put the concept of dreams and aspirations back into kids minds, unless we bring the arts back into schools and how they need to be infused into the core curriculum. I could write a whole blog about the absence of the arts in public schools, but tonight I will spare you. Another example of unwise corner cutting in public schools. If you have the chance, the show is "Brick City" and it's shown on Sundance. Thank you Forrest Whitaker, executive producer, Cory Booker, Mayor of Newark, you changed my life.

"When you say a kid doesn't want to learn, that's like saying a moth doesn't want to be a butterfly." (Principal Baraka, Central High School, Newark, NJ)

"Isn't it more powerful to invest in our kids before they become teenagers with crime problems?" (Mayor Cory Booker, Newark, NJ)



And, one last thought to leave you with. I attended a red carpet event at the Naples International Film Festival today. It was a kickoff event for our district's involvement in a project with Bluenose Edutainment where kids will write music, scripts, and sports interviews as part of our regular curriculum. It was AWESOME. What was most awesome was this video. A little girl in a 2nd grade class went to her teacher last spring after the earthquake in Haiti and said, "Can't we do something? Can't we write a song?" The teacher said, "We'll see." The end result was that they partnered with a music composer and producer, a vocal coach, anc eventually a film crew, and they wrote their song, they recorded it, and they made their own video. Now they have their own website, GiveThemHope.net. Check it out, spread the word. Every child should know they can change the world.

"Give Them Hope" Sea Gate Elementary from Mark Haffner on Vimeo.

Week 3: Operation Everybody Graduates

Writing a blog on the 9th anniversary of the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks seems trivial. What could I possibly have to say about the world of education that is relevant to a nation still mourning those lost on that day- the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, partners, best friends, sons and daughters. We continue to honor them- the heroes and heroines, the epic battles they fought, as the days wear into nights and the nights wear into dawn. Easily distracted by issues of today, ignorance thrust into the spotlight to distract from what we remember.

But then I remember that September 11th, 2001 was a turning point in my life. What changed was not only the kind of human being I would become, but how I would spend my life. On that day, every moment was drowning in confusion and anger, and for days to come, chaos reigned supreme. I didn't know much except that I was not in the right place, and I couldn't look down the smoking barrel of such an unthinkable tragedy and do nothing. I had been thinking about and planning a move for some time, but that day, the gut wrenching feeling, the images of destruction, watching grown men break down and cry, all of those things nudged me to make a move. Within a few weeks, I would leave my job as a graphic designer and begin my journey to becoming a professional educator. The journey was long, treacherous at times, marked by periods despair and doubt. But 10 months later, credentials in hand, I was hired for my first teaching appointment, and never looked back.

Cliche as it may seem, all I've ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. I can't say that I am all that great at what I do, or that I am a superstar, or that I am even deserving of the right to make any comparisons between my life and this day. But, every day, I am thankful for what I have, and I remember- all those who have loved and supported me over the years, the love of my family and friends, and how lucky I am to be so privileged to have the job I have and be surrounded by such wonderful and amazing people. I remember every time that I look at the NYC skyline that thousands of people perished that day, and that millions had their lives shaken by the events that would unfold. I am thankful that my friends who were in lower Manhattan that day all came home safely.

While I watched the coverage today of the memorials, and the newsfootage unearthed to remind us of who we are and how we got to this moment in time, I am reminded about why I am proud to be an American. I am also reminded of why it is of the utmost importance that I remain committed to the success of my students, and to my role in their lives, especially when they seem not-so-committed to their own success.

I'd like to share two things that I read today that left me chilled to the bone. I thank them both for sharing, from the bottom of my heart.

Poet laureate, Billy Collins, shares his poem "The Names" at a special joint session of Congress in New York on 9/10/10: http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/poems/july-dec02/collins_9-6.html

Acclaimed author, Meg Cabot's blog post about what she saw on September 11th, 2001:
http://www.megcabot.com/2010/09/nine-years-ago/

Week 2 of Operation Everybody graduates

(I am shamelessly stealing this from a colleague, but I don't think he was the original story teller ;-P)

So, on the first day of school, the teacher stands in front of the students and says, "Good morning, class. I'd like to get one thing out of the way right now. Please stand up if you're an idiot."

Blank stares fill the room, and the students wonder if this is a lesson. They wait and wonder. After some time and awkwardness passes, a little freshman slowly rises. he stands there proudly, but patiently. The teacher looks at him with a grimace, lowering his spectacles.

"So, you admit you're an idiot?" he says.

"No," says the freshman. "I just didn't want you standing all by yourself."

How many times do you wonder what your kids 'have on you' or if they see right through you, or at least think they do? I had one of those moments early this week. We spent a day learning about feudal era England in order to prepare for the first big text, Beowulf. After I pulled a total brain fart and couldn't remember where Wales was on a map of Great Britain, IN FRONT OF MY PRINCIPAL, I finally pulled myself together to talk about the invasion of the Roman Empire. I find this stuff fascinating, and I can usually pull the audience in with my story telling techniques. And one of the little grasshoppers chimed in with, "Why do we need to know this stuff, I thought this was English class, not history class." And the little one sat back in the chair very proud, maybe for having challenged me, maybe for having broken everyone's focus. At first, I had nothing. Blank stare. Touche. The little muppet had me speechless for a split second. Then, I had it. "This is part of English history, you need to know what was going on so you can understand what you are going to read. We're building background knowledge."

"I understand what I read, it's just a story. This is stupid."

Now really, I was totally OK with the question, and even able to excuse what seemed like purposeful timing, until I heard the word "stupid." Oh no you didn't, little grasshopper.

"Sure you do!" I said. "I know you're a great student, and so is everyone else. But what you understand is on the surface, and we are going to kick it up a notch here. We want to look at what is between the lines, what isn't written."

And so began a fruitful conversation about oral tradition and why we don't know who the 'author' of Beowulf is. We talked about how the story can change as it is passed on, and how different translators might add their insight without changing the text. We talked about how feudal society might have been without social organization and the influence of Christianity. Oh, my friend joined in, and was an active participant.

My point is, we can build background knowledge all we want. We can lecture about St. Augustine and how he brought Latin learning to an otherwise widely uneducated society and give them theories and formulas and new words. But sometimes we have to help them make the connections. Sometimes, if we don't explicitly show them how the information they have already learned is relevant to the current topic, their teenage brains won't get there. Sometimes a nudge is enough to get them on board, sometimes we need to hold their hands and show them the way, and sometimes, they make their connection without our help. Those are the moments to praise them, to cherish, to celebrate the victory with them.

Week 1 of Operation Everybody Graduates

This was my first year having new kids after three years of looping with the same graduating class through their high school careers. While I truly enjoyed and appreciate the experience, and I think that I benefited from it more than my students did, I am starting to realize that I may have become somewhat complacent. I dearly love all of my folks from the class of 2010, but I did take some things for granted. For one, they get my sense of humor, my quirks, my personality. How could they not after having spent 86 minutes a day in my classroom for 540 days.

So, the first week with new kids has passed, and with it I have gained a lot of perspective and opportunities for self-reflection. I always spend the first week working on character building, self-discovery, understanding of expectations, and hopefully some full-on confidence boosting. I try to inspire them to want to come to class, which is a feat of epic proportions when working with 18 year old seniors at 7:15 in the morning. We did district policy changes, team and class expectations on Monday, then followed by a crash course in Goal 3 standards and 21st century learning standards and objectives Tuesday. We then wrapped it up with some learning profiles- multiple intelligences, personality profiles, learning style inventories, on Wednesday and Thursday. Finally, something new in my repertoire, an entire day of team building on Friday. I was pleased with the results. Kids left Friday with many wishes for a nice weekend, smiling, eyes shining. What more could I ask for?

Now, to plan for a full week of instruction, differentiate, and figure out how to wrangle a few wayward grasshoppers who insist on testing my limits even before the honeymoon period wears off. The three groups of kids I have are very small, which is a nice change of pace, even though it won't last long. Small classes during the fall term equals enormous classes during the spring term since all 124 seniors must take my class. Even though I have very few students who will take AP Lit, I have an entire class of 9 kids who will do it together, and they are excited. They are also the group who were unable to detangle their human pretzel on Friday. These three groups are also very diverse in and of themselves. I have several second-language learners in my early morning class. Morning classes for me tend to be kids with lower test scores, but all the same, the goal is to get all of them the confidence they need to get where they want to be, and rid them of the fears and idiosyncrasies they have about standardized testing so they can be successful despite these arbitrary, numbered labels placed on them. I really hate the look of defeat that comes across their faces when I say the word "test"- but be that as it may, it is the stick with which the state beats us, and we need to suit up and play ball just like everyone else.

Differentiation will take on a whole new role for me this term. Due to the profound differences in educational experiences of my different classes, the English Honors class I teach during 1st hour and the one I teach during 3rd hour will be vastly different. As such, my 1st hour AP Lit students will experience a more self-paced and self-led course than that 4th hour class which will be 100% AP Lit students. And of course, each student in each of these classes is coming in with individual needs, strengths, weaknesses, and dreams, so I will have to provide them with opportunities for more individualized instruction and opportunities for learning. Ugh! There is so much I want to do with them, and SO LITTLE TIME! Such is the life of an educator. Now, my Everest will be to fit ACT prep, bi-weekly fluency practice, vocabulary, grammar and writing, and a peek into the world of British Literature, blogging, podcasting, project-based learning, background knowledge building, and digital literacy into a mere 7,740 minutes.

I ended class with this on Friday:
Me: "I'd like to extend my thanks to each of you for a great, productive week and congratulations on completing your first week as seniors! Just remember to enjoy every second, there are only 35 weeks to go until graduation."

Student: "O-M-G, there are 35 weeks left of school!"

Me: "Yes, can you believe it?"

Student: "That's a lot, Miss."

Oh, grasshopper, the time will fly and you will be crossing the stage in the blink of an eye.

Today is Palindrom Day!

01022010
A numeric palindrome. Has nothing to do with this blog entry, but just the same, I would be remiss to not mention it.

I just read an opinion piece in the WaPo- "The keys to a successful education system," by Kevin Huffman, the executive vice president for public affairs at Teach for America. It's got me all fired up. And, like many of the pointed arguments made in this piece, what has me fired up goes way beyond what is evident on the surface.

Mr. Huffman makes some excellent points, and he backs himself up with data from published studies and research. For instance, he points out the need for schools to more aggressively recruit the best people for every position, and to make the job of an educator more attractive with higher pay and incentives for performance. As a career changer who comes from a business background, I am all for the incentive pay, but adamantly against paying for the performance of students on standardized tests. We most certainly need to hold administrators more accountable, as well as teacher prep programs, and furthermore, we need to look at and improve the role of people, policies and parents. May I add, another necessary change would be a requirement that all people working in public policy on education reform have current, relevant experience working in a classroom. They need to be educators first, and politicians, economists, public affairs specialists last.

Allow me to elaborate. I used to believe that standardized tests are a necessary evil of the education world. As I have followed the same class of kids throughout their high school careers to their impending graduation in June, my view on that has changed. They are necessary, and they are reality. It's a reality we all deal with on a daily basis. There absolutely needs to be a point of measurement of student performance and ability. No question there. What I question is what is tested, and how we are testing. As the needs of the workplace change, as technology grows and the need for kids to be collaborative, flexible, critically thinking beings increases, we are testing kids out of context with the realities they face. We know that relevance is an important ingredient in engaging students, so why test them and completely ignore the need for relevant context? Still, this is not something that will change overnight, there is no quick fix, and preparing students for every reality is our job.

What grabbed my attention in this piece was that it opened with an anecdote about the formation of IDEA College Prep High School. IDEA principal, Jeremy Beard points out that their success is not about resources, but about them maximizing on the potential of what they can control. He says they create culture, they let kids feel like they are an integral part of something greater than themselves. Smiles. Warm, happy thoughts. But upon reading further, the points about the need for further data, for replacing the bottom 6-10% of teachers, well, that got me going. The truth is, performance is not always measurable by a multiple choice test, and people, namely kids, should never feel that the measure of their worth is based on a test score.

What I find difficult to grasp here is how this information, all relevant, all valid, is shared. Those of us in classrooms, running school buildings, we see people. Those who sit in offices and make decisions, they see numbers. There needs to be balance. And when the senator, or the parent, or the 19 year old college sophomore reads this, they see an expert laying out a plan that is richly backed by research and statistics. They take that information out of context, and they go out and make decisions that affect our educational system. This type of misinformation, of reading on the surface, is what upsets the balance. But, clearly, the woes of the ed policy world cannot be summed up in an 800 word OpEd piece, and the need for discourse and transparency is abundant, so I don't know what the solution is.

While I find this piece to be somewhat contradictory, even borderline hypocritical at times, I applaud the effort made, the points raised, and Mr. Huffman's undeniable expertise and experience. More importantly, I applaud any effort to raise awareness and start a dialogue. But let me say, in my infinite wisdom and limited experience, that we don't need MORE data, we need to use what we have and change how we look at it. We need to return to the drawing board and re-assess our objectives, rather than trying to put band aids on a broken system. We need to balance how we train kids for tangible, academic performance with the needs of the person who sits in front of us. That is what it's about. It's about rigor, relevance, and relationships. Education is not about the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.