Day Four: LESSON FOUR: EVERYONE HAS SOMETHING TO SAY, IF YOU JUST GIVETHEM A VENUE TO SAY IT

9 January 2014

DAY FOUR

LESSON FOUR: EVERYONE HAS SOMETHING TO SAY, IF YOU JUST GIVE THEM A VENUE TO SAY IT

When I arrived at school today, Principal Tom Anderson took me into the office and began asking me questions about my educational background and work experience. He was confused as to whether I had a teacher certificate or not. I finally learned that the reason for his inquiries was that he wanted to know if I would be willing to be an emergency sub when a teacher had to go home sick, or a sub couldn’t be located, or a paraeducator was missing and a teacher needed help in the room. I said that of course I would

The first hour of the day was something SMS calls “Wolfpack.” A group of students is assigned to a particular teacher for their entire middle school career. A couple of times a month, they meet with this teacher to review their grades, any missing assignments, and to work on some other educational project. This week, they filled out a career interest inventory. I tried to help by explaining to students what was involved in some of the careers listed.

For the next two (two-hour block) classes, we took students to the computer lab to go online to use websites designed to teach them the countries of Europe. I tried to work with groups of troublemaking students to keep them on task.

When we returned to the classroom, Allison asked them to predict the score of the upcoming Seahawks game (she is a huge Seahawks fan). The student who gets closest will win a prize on Monday.

Then, they went through a couple paragraphs in their history book together (following along as she read from the book that was also shown on the document camera.

She then asked them some questions regarding the geography of Greece. For example:

Allison: “What does isolated mean?”

Student: “Like, really cold and covered with ice.”

8th Grade

Yesterday, after class, I had talked to Allison about how impressed I was with the answers of the two students the day before—the two who were consistent troublemakers, never seemed to be paying attention, but had given insightful comments to Allison’s questions. At the beginning of this class, she told the class that I had been impressed, and asked the two boys to repeat their comments—which they did, with pride, and even expounded on what they had said. For the rest of the day, they had their hands up regularly.

I decided to sit next to one student, TM, who was a consistent troublemaker and very disruptive. He never did what he was asked to do during class. So, each step in the workbook that he was asked to do, I would repeat the instructions to him and walk him through the process of doing it. For the entire time, he focused, did the work, whispered when talking to me, and was not distracted by (or distracting to) other students. The tasks the students were asked to do in the workbook:

·         Draw a sketch of a projected transparency of a political cartoon

·         Choose whether they would have chosen an isolationist or involvement policy

·         Write a motto that promotes your group’s position

·         Write a slogan for your group to chant during a rally

·         Read Section 12.4 of the chapter and summarize what happened

This student TM leaned toward isolationism. When I asked him to come up with a motto, he suggested, “Screw it! Let them work it out!” I told him this was a great motto; he responded: “But I can’t write that!”

I asked him how he might modify the motto to be more appropriate and he wrote it without the “Screw it!” His slogan was “Foreigners go away!”

He summarized the chapter quickly and effectively, then wanted to talk to me about political theories. He understood that the current political situation in the US was going to impact him in the future. He was cogent, well-reasoned, and interested. In the class discussion that followed, Allison asked them to share their responses. I urged TM to share his, and he looked at me shocked: “I don’t share,” he said.

“You should!” I told him. “These are good answers!”

“I don’t share—I never speak in class,” he said more quietly.

I smiled. That’s what he thinks. He’ll be commenting in class before my student teaching ends.

Without warning, Allison asked me to take over the class shortly after the beginning of the hour. Unfortunately, what I was asked to do was read a page of the history text to the class. (?!?Read to a group of 31 rowdy students?!?) It was information designed to introduce the skit my group had prepared. It dealt with John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and the Barbary pirates. Rather than just read (which I did, loudly and with dramatic enthusiasm!), I stopped to talk to them about various topics: why pirates dressed the way they did, what pirates are, modern piracy, and isolationism vs. foreign affairs involvement. It became a good, but rowdy discussion. The students were interested, and they had things to say. After bringing up a topic that interested them, I had to allow them time to discuss it among themselves, which was loud and disorganized—but they were talking about the issues! They had opinions, and they wanted to share them. They asked questions of me to better understand the questions.

After that, my team did our skit—and the kids did very well! Not only with reading their parts, but also the audience (since they were the easier group that Allison had taken) were relatively attentive. My students were proud of their efforts.

I then attended an IEP meeting for a student I do not know well, then met with two teachers on my team to plan for upcoming lessons I might teach.

Lesson Four: Everyone has something to say, if you just give them a venue to say it.

Not every student speaks up in class; not every student raises his or her hand. Not every student wants to speak in front of a group; not every student uses written language to express him or herself. But every student has something to say. A teacher’s job is to give every student a venue to communicate. Identify it, and let the student know it is OK that they communicate in ways everyone else might not. Use it consistently with that student. If you want them to learn from you, be willing to learn from them, and about them.

LESSON THREE: TEENAGERS CARE ABOUT THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT THEM—AND THEY WON’T ASSUME YOU DO

8 JANUARY 2014: DAY THREE

LESSON THREE: TEENAGERS CARE ABOUT THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT THEM—AND THEY WON’T ASSUME YOU DO

Last night I had my first WGU conference call, during which I met the other students in my teaching cohort—students from all around Washington, the far majority of whom have been in the classroom for years. I learned what our homework assignments will be, how to access them, and afterward I wrote a schedule for the next three months.

I arrived at school 15 minutes or so before my host teacher, so I visited with students in the hallway—including some former OPA students. Classes today are an exact duplicate of yesterday, but with different students. Allison prepares three one-hour lesson plans for two full days of teaching. I’m used to preparing nine.

Today, though she allowed me to begin interviewing students. One by one, they come to the back of the room and I ask them the following questions:

1.      What is your favorite class or school activity?

2.      What are your hobbies? What do you do for fun outside of school?

3.      If you could design a class, and for one hour a day learn about anything, what would it be?

4.      What do you want to be when you grow up?

It’s wonderful. Wonderful. Hearing from them, their interests, their hopes and dreams, their passions. They are fascinating, and full of big plans. It turns out they love learning, they are interested in scholastic subjects. One might expect them to answer question 1 with “PE” or “Recess” or even “Lunch.” Several did say, “PE,” but their interests extended to many other subjects, and none of them planned to play sports professionally.

Their hobbies were diverse (beyond video games and sports), and many of them said, “Playing outside.” Others said reading, writing, playing music, drawing, scrapbooking, geocaching, riding dirt bikes, photography, Legos, cooking, baking, beading, and dance.

Almost half of them answered question 3 with actual classes they are taking or could take. Among the other choices: Woodshop, History of Music, Drama, Art, Zoology, Game Design, Choir, Reading, Engineering, Cooking, History, Astronomy, Computer Programming, Marine Biology, Archaeology, World History, Dance.

The jobs they want to do in the future were amazing: police detective, chef, game warden, US Army, computer programmer, computer game design, paleontologist, novelist, baker, demolitions expert, videographer, kindergarten teacher, doctor, marine biologist, deep sea diver, photographer, veterinarian, engineer, teacher.

For the 8^th graders…

At the beginning of the class, I was sent out to get some materials from another teacher (I’m not the only teacher who sometimes isn’t as prepared as I wish!) Unfortunately, this meant I missed out on greeting the students as they came in. (Allison said when I arrived that all the students were asking after me, and disappointed that I wasn’t there). That makes a difference. It is those few minutes of interaction outside of class upon which a real relationship is built.

We tried to rehearse and then perform the “play” we had begun working on yesterday. The kids were slightly less rowdy. We read it through twice.

We then listened to the first group perform their play. They did fairly well, although my group was a poor audience. There was no time for my group to do their play—they were disappointed.

She concluded with a brief discussion of the themes of the play. She asked the students: Why might a government decide to or not to make an alliance with another country? The two students who answered were two of the most troublesome, disruptive boys. Their answers were clear and well-thought out. I was so impressed and pleased to hear these boys, who never seemed to pay attention in class, comment in a way that showed that they knew what was going on.

Allison kept four boys (four of the troublemakers, including the two who had answered the questions) after to talk to them about not having their workbooks with them. Three of them were respectful to her in this conversation. They were then sent out to their next class with notes. I walked with them to commend them for the comments they had made in class.

They returned a few moments later, having been kicked out of the class to which they had gone. Apparently the teacher was unhappy with how they had entered. It really sounded to me as if the teacher had overreacted. Allison talked to them a few minutes, went and checked with the teacher, and then came back and sent the boys to the class.

Afterward was our weekly teacher meeting: an hour with the team of teachers who coordinate their schedules. We discussed problem students, upcoming events, and what role I might play in different classes.

As for my lesson…

The interviews were an example of one of the most important lessons I think I have ever learned as a teacher. Students will not assume you care about them. They know teaching is a job, for which you get paid. They often know nothing of teachers’ lives outside of the classroom. You must convince them that you care. You must convince them that their happiness, success, and welfare matter to you. Until they believe that, few of them will really do their best work for you.

Share with them—not just information, but yourself. Prove to them that you care, if you can. If you can convince them, they will see you in a new light. They won’t see you as doing a job. They will see you as a support, a helper, a friend.

After that, the real teaching can begin.

LESSON TWO: Every Student Counts

7 JANUARY 2014: DAY TWO

LESSON TWO: EVERY STUDENT COUNTS

I met Allison in the school entrance, where she had hall duty (the hall is a madhouse in the morning while students wait before they can go to their classrooms. I really miss the time before class when I get to visit with my students).

At the beginning of each class today, Allison invited me to introduce myself and tell the class a little about myself. I told them about OPA, a couple of classes I teach there; about Chelsey and Bolt, about going to Helen Haller, about my summer job. Then they were invited to ask me questions. Among them:

·         What is my favorite steak?

·         What happened to my hair?

·         What’s my favorite hair style?

·         Why was I dressed like the principal?

·         Have I ever been to Cest si Bon?

·         What was my most embarrassing moment?

·         What’s my favorite insect (I told the story of the bamboo ant)

·         Coke or Pepsi?

·         What states have I been to?

·         What’s my favorite sport?

·         What do I do in Canada?

·         What’s my favorite Hawaiian island?

·         Do I know Hannah Gloor?

·         What college did you go to?

·         What kind of dog do I have?

·         What’s my favorite blizzard flavor?

·         Is recycling important to me?

·         How many countries have I been to?

·         What’s my favorite subject to teach?

·         Do I know anyone in the Coast Guard?

·         What’s my favorite movie? (I told them it was by a director they’d never heard of, named Majid Majidi; one kid chimed up: “Hey! That’s my dad! We hi-fived).

They were assigned to continue test edits from yesterday, if they were not done, or to complete their outline maps of Europe. Allison took the students through how to identify land vs. water on their photocopied outline maps, and students identified specific nations on an Elmo projection of their map. Then they divided into groups (on desks and the floor) and worked on their assignments.

One group of students were appallingly distracted. In the hour of work, they got very little done. I tried to work with them as a group much of the time; two of them refused to work by being distracted and focusing on anything else they could (including daring me to go work with other students). One student, though, seemed able to work only when given one task at a time. When the task was broken down in that way, though, and when he was prompted each time, he did fine. I wonder—if he had been diagnosed with a learning challenge as a child, and been provided with the sort of differentiated instruction he needs, if he wouldn’t have turned out very differently. He has failed since he was very young; he has been given the message over and over that he will not be successful in school—not in so many words, but by virtue of his experiences and grades. Now, he no longer tries.

It’s one of the terrifying, appalling, depressing aspects of the school system. These students—lots of them--are falling through the cracks, and it is preventable.

At 10:00, Allison stopped and told them they would have a test on the map in a week. She then told them they could do a Google search and find a site that would allow them to practice learning the European countries. She did not give them an address (???); but they used the website together as a class for a few moments. It sounded like they needed to prepare for the test on their own—I’m sure I will learn more about that in the days to come.

Allison uses a tiny, cheap, tinny little music player thing to get the kids to sit down—when she wants them to sit, pay attention, etc., she plays it and they are supposed to be sitting by the time the music stops. It kind of works.

At lunch, I wandered among the students, having conversations with more of them this time. Then I went to recess and primarily visited with the Vice Principal Scott Harker, about student teaching, SPED, and scheduling.

After lunch, the students are assigned silent reading. And they did!

The 8^th Graders:

Early in the hour, Connie Stites stopped by to get me because my former student Leah and her one-year-old son Bradley had stopped by the school. I got to go and see them for a minute in the hallway. Talk about a strange situation: A former student, who has now been a teacher for years, who was inspired to become a teacher by me, visiting me while I was student teaching so I can become a teacher. Surreal…

Allison tried to take the students through the reading of a chapter by showing it via the document camera, reading line by line—which they didn’t follow at all. Perhaps six students (of 31) were paying attention and participating. This was the only teaching. She shared a few paragraphs from the book, and then asked them one scenario: was Washington’s policy of neutrality the best choice. She entertained two or three comments from students (who didn’t really understand the issue).

After that, Allison turned half of the class over to me to prepare a very brief (one page) play about the conflict between Jefferson and the Barbary pirates. She gave me the more difficult half of the class. The next half hour was spent trying to wrangle those 14 students into choosing from the 9 parts available, and read over those lines. Several volunteered to read parts, some enthusiastically; they also began trading parts right away. One girl (a sort of queen bee among these 8^th graders) asked to be a bird; I assigned her to be a parrot for one of the pirates. It was so difficult just to get them assigned parts (they never stop talking, completely ignoring me, joking and laughing) that we never actually got to a read-through.

I, however, felt I had one success. The student who was the most disruptive yesterday, SP, the day of the substitute, was my goal for the day. He is a very large young man, and he loves football. Through the length of the football season, he works hard to keep his grades up. As soon as football season is over (which it is), he quits trying. Throughout both classes, he never got out his text, his workbook, or paper. He sat doing nothing.

I chose to have a brief conversation with him during my introduction/Q&A with the class, asking him about football. When I was given the group to oversee, I asked him to help me organize the students. He immediately helped to take charge, helping me keep the students on task. Also (much to my surprise), he volunteered for one of the parts. At the end of the class SP stayed after for a few minutes to visit with me. I thanked him for his help; he shook my hand. “No problem, Tim,” he said. “It’s good to meet you.”

One student down. 143 to go.

LESSON ONE: Don't Be Boring

6 JANUARY 2014: DAY ONE

LESSON ONE: DON’T BE BORING

On my first day of student teaching, my host teacher wasn’t there. I had a sub.

What was particularly unusual for me was that the class is the same subject for four hours in a row—the same class four times, with four groups of sixth graders. I am used to teaching twelve subjects a week; here I will student-teach two—World History, and Washington State History, which will change into Medieval History for second semester. As it turns out, these are my three favorite classes to teach, and the ones in which I have the most experience. Of course, I will also be moving around to different classes so as to teach a variety of subjects.

There was no real teaching going on today, unfortunately. None at all. The sub gave the students their (mostly failed) tests from before Winter Break, in order to correct the wrong answers and mark the page from the text where the answer can be found. They worked in teams of two or three, on the floor. If the students finish correcting their tests, they were to fill in an outline map of Europe.

I particularly enjoyed working with one boy who was developmentally disabled. It was obvious that he did not understand the material on the test, and had just guessed at the answers. We would find the answer in the book together, and then I would ask him to choose the multiple choice option that was correct. He would always pick all the other ones first, usually following each choice with a “wrong” buzzer sound. Sometimes, when he was down to the last choice, he would insist he didn’t know the answer. I smiled and laughed the whole time we worked together—and he hugged me four times during the hour, appreciative of my help. There is so much more to this story, but I’m keeping this first blog short…

As I mentioned, there was no teaching. I suppose that made it easier for the substitute—particularly for the first day after Winter Break. But the students could have done it without a teacher’s help. And I don’t think any sub could really enjoy that, either.

So, I’m reminded of this important lesson: Don’t be boring. It doesn’t matter how important the information is, how much you care for your students, how well you know your subject, or how well prepared you are. If you’re boring, don’t expect teenagers to listen to you and/or remember what you say.

I’m also reminded that if the lesson is not interesting and engaging, the teacher loses a great disciplinary consequence: the threat of a boring assignment instead.

The final class of the day, 8^th grade Washington State History, is kind of a nightmare. It is a very large class, and over half of them are completely disengaged. They aren’t following along, are talking constantly with their neighbors, are distracted with snacks, drinks, etc. Mostly this is because they are simply rude. But that rudeness, and some of their behaviors, are undoubtedly a side effect of being bored and lost. And, of course, the students who want to pay attention can’t hear anything or concentrate with the constant noise.

            This class will be my task for the three months. I want them to be engaged. I want them to rediscover the love of learning. I want them to realize that school matters, can be fun, and can help them. I want them to realize that they can contribute meaningfully, and that their personalities and interests can shape their learning. I won’t reach every student, but I will reach some. I will reach some.

Tomorrow morning, I begin a new chapter in my life, one that I have, in some ways, been working toward for over 25 years. Tomorrow is the first day of my student teaching at Sequim Middle School.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the system by which teachers earn their certification: after spending an average of $50,000 and four-and-a-half years of their lives in college, teachers must work for free for three months as "student teachers" in a classroom under the supervision of an experienced teacher. This, of course, does not guarantee them a job. In fact, afterward, Washington State students must pay hundreds of additional dollars in fees to receive their certificate just to enter the job market.

For those of you unfamiliar with me, I have been a classroom teacher for the past fourteen years, working for four different school districts. Before that, I worked as a private tutor and a traveling educational lecturer. I do not, however, have a Washington State teaching certificate. The next three months will, hopefully, rectify that.

With this blog, I hope to share my insights on the "student teaching" process for the benefit of other student teachers, current and future.