Learning Is a Circle, not a Line

Opportunity. Practice. Feedback. Performance. Feedback. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. This, I believe, is what learning looks like.  Or should look like. But, in truth, this is not the path that it generally follows in many classrooms. And while it’s no one’s fault, it’s everyone’s fault at the same time. We have believed for too long and continue to believe on too many levels that coverage, not competence is the beacon on the horizon. So we chase the light, but as the light dims behind us in our persistent push forward, too many kids get left behind. After all, we must get to the the next section by tomorrow; we must get to the next chapter by the end of the week. Must we? And, if so, at what cost? What if the kids aren’t ready? What if they just needed a little more time, another chance–or two or three–to perform proficiently? Does this approach foster growth mindsets? One of my seniors wasn’t so sure last week, calling BS on the growth mindset movement.

“If our school values growth mindsets, then why don’t all teachers offer retakes or corrections on tests? Is “yet” really possible without an opportunity to try again?”

On one hand, I am thrilled that our discussions on mindset have resonated with her. On the the other hand, I am troubled by the fact that any inspiration she found will likely to soon give way to apathy, will to soon reinforce what she has experienced all along: learning has not been about growth; learning has been about movement, getting through the curriculum. So what do we do?

Well, slow down for one. But more than slowing down, we have to re-imagine what learning is. It is not about how much stuff we cover in our time with the kids. It is about how much growth our kids experience in our time with them. That is all that matters. No, I will not cover everything. I can’t anyway. There simply is not enough time or space. So, I am going to be very intentional about what I choose to do with my kids to get the most out of our time together. Thus, the 10 Super-Student Standards, the 10 ways in which my kids will grow this year. I’ll hang my hat on it. But the standards really are only ways to specifically articulate measurement of growth, growth towards THE goal this year. Everyone improves. Some will make huge gains this year. Others’ gains will be more modest. And a few, sadly, will grow very little. Regardless the outcome, the process will be such that I encourage and support each along his or her way. It’s all I can do. But, in the end, if they leave better readers, writers, thinkers, then that’s not so bad.

Above, I shared our current work, our current process with using hooks in writing to engage readers. While it is not in and of itself a super standard, it is part of the larger scheme for my students to build capacity and proficiency as writers, a scheme for growth that requires feedback, support, practice, and continuous opportunities to demonstrate progress towards mastery. The student work above was the kids’ first chance to show me where they are currently with writing hooks. And while the two examples above hit the target, there is still room for growth. Always room for growth. In truth, most of my kids did not hit the target on this first opportunity. But now, through feedback and support, I believe many more will the next time. The resource sheet above was constructed in response to my discovery that the kids do not have enough hook strategies in their baskets, so I put together a resource sheet along with a focused practice activity (not pictured) to support their next opportunity, an opportunity that they will experience again this week as we continue to focus on hooks. Opportunity. Practice. Feedback. Performance. Feedback. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. A circle, a record that I’ll keep spinning. Again and again.

Happy Monday, all. Sorry for the windy post this morning.

Had dinner with a lovely lady last night, a lady who’s been my witness and support for twenty-three years now, a lady without whom my personal and my professional life would crumble irrevocably, a lady I am lucky enough to call my wife. Not only does she help me stay centered  in my outside-of-school life, but she also helps me find a center in my school life, especially in my crazier times, and no other time has been crazier than now with Project 180. A teacher herself–the best I know, she lends both ear and advice to my schemes and dreams. And so, as one might imagine, our date-night conversations inevitably end up at teaching and learning as we cannot avoid this shared passion, a passion to which we often give too much, even in our “us” moments. So, of course,  last night’s engagement was no different. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes and talked…about school. Yes, hopeless romantics.

It all began innocently enough. I just uttered something about wanting to find a way to solicit more feedback from my kids with 180, and so, what began as a mild flirtation with an idea turned into 20 minutes of smoldering passion, an embrace without pause, an end with supreme satisfaction, a climax of clarity…

Okay. Just to be sure, I am still talking about school. Anyway, we bounced ideas back and forth, ultimately arriving at a simple plan. A feedback box. Simple. Nothing original. Nothing fancy. Starting next week, I will make available a box for kids to anonymously share their thoughts about their experiences with Project 180 with a promise to publish whatever they share: good, bad, or ugly. I have no desire to be anything other than transparent with 180. So each week I will share what the kids really think with the rest of the world. I am excited by this opportunity to even more intentionally listen to and learn from they who matter most, my kids.

Thank you for humoring me and allowing me to share the more intimate moments of my journey. I tried to keep it PG, but one can only edit out so much, else the sizzle fizzles. Thanks for keeping the sizzle alive, Sher. Love you.

Again, thanks for humoring me in this lighter look at the project. Sorry for the tech snafu earlier this morning. Happy Friday, all.

Ten days behind us. Here are three “from-the-inside-looking-out” thoughts on the progress of Project 180.

1. Influence is greater than power. I no longer have the power of grades to wield and wave in front of my kids. In many classrooms, either directly or indirectly, grades are used to motivate students academically and control them behaviorally.  I no longer brandish that sword. I am armed only with the connections I have made with my students and the culture I have created with them. Throughout my day, I often find myself wishing for witnesses (outsiders looking in) to observe our learning community, to see that kids can and will perform academically and manage themselves behaviorally in the absence of traditional grades. But it doesn’t happen by accident. It comes down to what it’s always come down to–with or without grades. Relationships. Establish this and all else will follow.

2. Kids will do work–hard work–that is not for points. I have more “complete” practice in my grade book at this time of the year than I ever did in the past. Granted, the kids still know that I report completed practice to parents and that may play a part in their motivation; additionally, they may still not trust that they have the freedom to not do the work if they choose, so they do it still either out of habit or fear. Either way, at present they are doing the work I give them. Yesterday, they diligently dove into their writing and reading stories not only working hard but also worrying about the outcome, seemingly intent on creating quality, not just doing it to get done. Fingers-crossed, with a knock on wood, I believe I’m on my way to bucking the belief that kids won’t work without grades. Perhaps worth noting, my seniors, with whom I still maintain a traditional grading approach, have far more missing assignments than my sophomores with gifted A’s. Of course, there are a lot of factors to consider and it is not a direct comparison, but I am getting more out of my sophomores, much more–without grades to motivate them. Just sayin’.

3. Stressed brains aren’t our best brains. There’s certainly a research base out there to support that stress impairs learning. But I don’t really need science to back up what I already know. We should not use stress to force kids into compliance, to create a fear of failure if we want them to learn best. That is not to say that all stress is bad. Performance anxiety presents itself even to the most prepared. It’s normal. But that stress is generally born out of one’s desire to do his or her best. Yesterday, there was indeed a measure of stress around the room as kids attempted to make a first impression on me with their writing. As the end of the period approached, stress was on the rise as it became evident that not all were going to finish. So, I stepped in, pushing the “pressure-release valve,” and promised more time. Why wouldn’t I? This is important. I want them to make their best attempt at the challenges I place in front of them. And, if and when I can give more time, I most certainly will. Teaching is not only about challenging kids; it’s also about supporting them. Real challenges require support. Support alleviates stress. Less stress equals better learning. Another worthy note, I asked the kids how they thought things were going with the approach, and the number one response was less stress–in and out of class. Music to my ears. Truly.

   Overall, I am very pleased with the progress of the project. Thank you for the support. Knowing you are watching–even if from a distance–helps me sustain the necessary strength to manage the self-inflicted stress from this mad journey. Thank you. Happy Thursday.

Today, we roll up our sleeves, grease our elbows, and get to work. The kids will complete their reading and writing stories; they will also have time to work on their essays of the week. Early on, I made a promise to them that I would build in class time for practice, so, currently, my plan for delivering on my promise is what I am going to call “Wednesday Workdays.”

And though I can’t always give kids all the time they need in class for practice, I will–when I can build it in intentionally–carve out time for them. One, when my kids are working in class, I am there to help. Two, it communicates that I am willing to give to get. It says, “This work is important. It is important enough to use limited time together. I am willing to sacrifice this precious resource.” Three, it acknowledges that my class is only a small part of my kids’ days, a small part of their worlds. It is not their whole day or world; they lead crazy, busy, stressful lives. If I can help reduce their stress, I will. I do. Happily.

Of course, the work serves a monumental purpose. It produces the necessary opportunities for feedback, both during and after. And that is my most important job in our shared experience. Learning requires feedback. But it also requires a realistic approach. I cannot read or give feedback on all the practice that my kids do. And I tell them this. Case in point, I introduced the Essay of the Week this week. See below.

Essay of the Week #1

Growth Mindset v. Fixed Mindset

Requirements

1. Legible
2. 250 word max

Topic: Growth Mindset v. Fixed Mindset

Audience: Teacher

Purpose: Express and Reflect, Inform and Explain

Prompt: Express and Reflect about a time when a fixed mindset got in the way of your doing something. Explain how a growth mindset may have changed the experience.

Assessment Focus: Hook

3	Hits the Target: ·          The hook effectively gets the reader’s attention and creates context ·          The hook is present either explicitly or implicitly throughout the piece ·          The hook resurfaces in the conclusion, creating a “full circle” ending
2	Near Miss: close to target but does not effectively meet all criteria, needs minor work
1	Far Miss: misses the target, needs major work
0	Completely off target, unable to assess

A couple of things to point out. First, I set a limit on the maximum number of words. 250. No more. It’s practice. I don’t want this to be overly burdensome on the kids, and I tell them that I only want them spending 15-20 minutes on it. Second, I tell them that it has to be a minimum of three paragraphs. Third, I tell them that I will not read the whole essay. I can’t. There’s not enough time. If my 100 kids all write the maximum, then that is 25,000 words. Not gonna happen. Doesn’t need to happen. Because, fourth, I tell them that I will give them an assessment focus each week for which I will provide feedback.

Please note the rubric. I no longer give criteria for anything other than the standard. It is the target. They hit the target or they miss. If they miss, it is either a near or far miss, and it is from there that I give the necessary feedback to turn their misses into hits. I have found this approach to be both efficient and effective. It takes a manageable amount of time, and it provides an opportunity for focused feedback.

I am excited to see what my kiddos produce today, to see how they respond to working for growth versus working for points.

Happy Wednesday, all.

Well, finally, a full week ahead. With the relationship and mindset foundation down, it’s time to start building, time to start learning. But I have to approach learning differently this year. With A’s in hand and armed with choice, my students will likely not respond well to business as usual. I have to find ways to lead my learners in ways that are more engaging and relevant. I have to do different. Here are a few things that I am trying as I attempt to re-imagine learning in 211 this year.

QUEST

Last week, in keeping with the whole journey/adventure approach, I came up with  the idea of the “quest question,” a question that provided the purpose and pursuit of our learning experience for the week. By the end of the week, it had evolved into the “QUESTion,” and now, after some further thought this weekend its current manifestation will be the “Learning QUESTion(s).”

Here is the process. I will post the question(s) on the board for the week. It will first serve as an entry point into the learning as I ask teams to consider and discuss the question. It will then be followed by what I have come to call a “Quick Quest,” which will generally be a ten-minute team task without my help or input. Next we will do a number of learning activities over the week that deepen and reinforce related skills and concepts. Finally, individually, the kids will answer the “Learning QUESTion(s)” in their weekly reflection.

Here are my goals for the approach. I want learning to be an experience. So, each week I will hope to make the experience more engaging with the novelty of the QUEST approach. In terms of learner-content interface, I want there to be an investigative initial experience with the content without my help, prior to my input–a quest of sorts. Perhaps, above all, I want there to be purpose to what we are doing. Daniel Pink suggests that motivation has three components: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. I have given the necessary autonomy. I am jumping mastery–for now, and I am providing an opportunity for kids to discover purpose. Of course, we will come back to, and work hard towards, mastery. But I believe mastery might be better placed, and better achieved, after purpose. The “what and how” of learning seem to come more readily after the “why” has been established.

This week’s Learning QUESTIONS.

• Why do we write in sentences?

• How can our learning stories help us understand our own mindsets? 

• Can we prevent injustice, or is it an inevitable circumstance of society?

Today, we will begin our pursuit of the first, “Why do we write in sentences?” The “Quick Quest” will take the following form.

QUICK QUEST: What is a sentence? As a team, you have 10 minutes to create an informational poster. You have one sheet of paper and an assortment of markers. GO! Sorry, I am not available for help.

I will then step back and see what happens. At the very least, I hope they come up with a definition. But, I hope they also consider exploring and reporting on the different sentence kinds and types, etc. I will encourage them to be resourceful, which means that they use their phones, which is not allowed without permission, but since I am “out of the room….” At the end of the ten minutes, the kids will share their findings with the rest of the class. Through this approach, I am not only activating prior knowledge, but I am also getting an opportunity to diagnose where my kids are with sentences, which helps inform my approach, my instruction. This allows me to learn from the kids before they learn from me. Too often, we teachers assume that teaching is talking and that learning is listening, but I’ve come to believe, it’s more than this alone. It’s complex. It’s messy. It’s different. And that is why I am choosing to do different.

Of course, I am not inventing a new wheel here. I am inventing nothing. This stuff, to varying degrees is and has been out there. I am just re-imagining how to roll the wheel on a new path, a path no longer guided nor restricted by grades. I cannot change it, if I don’t change it. Do different. It might be the difference.

Happy Monday, all.

The project continues. The work goes on. The journey resumes. Turns out my fear was more imagined than real yesterday, and the storm steered north of 211, never really materializing, passing quietly by, clearing my sky of mindful worry. And while never enough parents attend open house, those who did seemed open to my madness, generally accepting my ten-minute, whirlwind sale of Project 180. Of course, ten minutes was not enough, but for all that was left unsaid, I offered a final guarantee, intimating that no matter the struggles along the way this year, I would see their kids safely to the other side, a solemn vow to protect the charges in my care. And with that, a handshake, and a smile, I sent parents off to their child’s next class, hoping they found confidence in my words and comfort in my person. Hoping.

And so, with that test behind me, the work does go on. Yesterday in 211 we continued our exploration of the growth mindset realm. I presented the iceberg illusion to my kids in an attempt to get them to think about success differently, to see beyond the shine above the surface, to consider the depth beneath, to discover the unseen in their and others’ successes, and for that, the iceberg metaphor works perfectly. We also talked about how success without persistence, failure, sacrifice, disappointment, good habits, hard work, and dedication is really not success.

This morning, as I was preparing to write this, I had an aha moment. I thought that their gifted A’s, their shiny symbols are much like the iceberg of success, the iceberg of illusion.  They appear to be success on the surface, for in the education realm they are widely accepted as the mark of success, but we all know that not all A’s–like all successes–are equally earned. Some are cheap imitations, easily won. Others are grand achievements, hard won. When I gave the kids their A’s, I told them that they had to live into it, that they had to discover and give it meaning. And now I feel I have found the elements necessary to help them write the stories of their A’s: persistence, failure, sacrifice, disappointment, good habits, hard work, and dedication. Indeed, for as was mentioned earlier, success is not success without; so, too, an A is not an A without. To remind them of the depth that success requires, I taped the iceberg graphic to the top of each desk. A daily reminder of the struggle that is success.

I also taped the egg with the words, “So much depends on the word ‘yet,'” to the top of their desks. If there is one word that captures the essence of a growth mindset it is “yet.” And so, we began adopting the vocabulary, developing the language of our learning community yesterday, agreeing to the following.

I can

I can’t

I can’t yet.

Taking it further, we also discussed that in learning, though the ultimate outcome is “I can,” “I can’t yet” should occupy the bulk of our conversations as we make our ways to the A, through the necessary land of growth mindset, an area that we will continue to explore today. Yes, six days in, we are still working with growth mindset. No, we haven’t read any stories yet. No we haven’t written any essays yet. They will be there when we get there. I just want to make sure that when we do, that the kids do so with success on their minds–real success, full of disappointment and hard work and all the other necessary ingredients.

Before I go, I wanted to share and celebrate a small success from 211 with you. Those skeptical of the gifted A raised as one of their objections that if I gave kids A’s they wouldn’t do the work. Well, yesterday I collected the first practice, and roughly 90% of my kids completed the work. They didn’t have to. They chose to. Makes me wonder about the power of autonomy and its role in motivation. I am not suggesting that 90% will happen every time, all the time, but I am suggesting that choice has power, choice gives power. I will continue to give my kids choice. I will continue to give them power.

Happy Thursday, all. Clear and sunny today with a chance of learning. No storms in the forecast. A traveler’s delight.