Trail Talk

“So, you gonna actually stick to the notebook reflections this year?” My room is often a rest stop for former students who have gone on as juniors to take advantage of the Running Start program at EWU, our local university. Their classes don’t start for another three weeks, but many of them are taking one-to-two classes at the high school, so they need a place to call home a few hours a day. They are always welcome, and as one might gather from the opening quote, they are also comfortable.

Lily, called me out, neither snarkily nor unfairly. I failed miserably at the notebooks last year. She knows it. I know it. But that knowing is what has led me to chase better–way better–with this important aspect of the learning experience. And so, my “do better” has resulted in creating routines as I outlined in my recent post Roles, Routines, Rights, and Responsibilities.  I know that if I do not commit to routines, I lack the discipline when things get busy to stick to the plan. And that is why this year, I created the Journey Journal, which I am going to do along with kids. Except, I didn’t. My first fail of the year. It wasn’t until 5th period when the kids were writing their first entry that I realized I was sitting their on my butt, pleased with the diligent efforts of my kids, and I was already ruining the routine. I was forcing the kids to eat their veggies (see quote below from my letter to students) and I was indulging in the dessert of their diligence.

“I hope you discover the power of reflection. I hope my “forcing” you to reflect on your learning each day will help you develop this essential learning skill for life. I will use the broccoli effect for this, “Whether we like it or not, broccoli is good for us.” Whether we like it or not, reflection is good for us. #sorrynotsorry #eatyourveggies #reflectionrules”

So, today, I will go back and retroactively write my first entry. I will also ask the kids to hold me accountable. If they write, I write. They have my permission to call me out. So, when, I am sitting there staring at them, smiling like an idiot, fawning at their dedication, they need to tell me to get to work, to eat my veggies. Dang. Day one, and I already screwed up. Wonder what I’ll screw up today.

Today’s Trail

Today will be a wee bit of a cluster. Picture day at CHS, and we use the ELA classes for pictures, so consequently, my classes will be disrupted all day long. I have tried in vain to get this changed for years, but I have given up on that battle, and now I just take it in stride.

I will not share grading policies until tomorrow, and I won’t roll out the 4 R’s until next week. Both are important of course, but right now getting to know my kids and setting the stage for the journey, the experience is more important.

Along today’s trail we will…

…begin with Smiles and Frowns

…continue considering, character, community, and conflict with Seedfolks

…work on our Who Am I? Wordles

…capture the day in or Journey Journals

And that’s our day. This weekend, when I have more time, I will look through and share some of the responses from the kids’ grade cards. Today, I am just going to focus on my Journey Journal. I will do better. Have a great day, all.

Do. Reflect. Do better.

The journey continues. Today, I begin year two of Project 180. And while this year’s route will be a lot different, the goal is the same: find better. Thus, armed with my three favorite tools, Do. Reflect. Do Better, I will journey once again into the gradeless realm, sharing my learning as I seek to find better ways to help my kids learn.

So, join me. Once again, I will share each day in a blog post, but this year I will strive to make my classroom even more public, sharing the plan for the day, the resources I will use, and a reflection from the previous day.

The Plan

In keeping with the whole journey metaphor, I am going to present the day’s plan in the form of “Today’s Trail.” Here, I will share the day’s targets and tasks that we will encounter along our path. Below is what I will have written on the front board this morning. Explanation in blue is for you, my readers.

Today’s Trail

Along today’s trail we will…

…define grades (Grade Cards). As I shared in the linked post, I will ask my kids to define what they believe is required for an A, B, and C grade. I will give them very little information about why we are doing it, but I will lead them through a quick what-to-consider brainstorm, offering no answers, only questions. They will write their names and definitions on a 3×5 card, and I will collect them. I will keep them until mid-term when they will have their first opportunity to select and support a grade. Importantly, I am doing this before I reveal my grading approach for the year. In fact, I am not going to share that until Friday, day three. I am doing this first, so I do not influence their definitions. On a side note, it will be interesting to see how many are disappointed in my not giving them all an A to start the year. Word travels, especially word of free A’s. That trip is over. Hitting a new trail this year. Sorry, kiddos. 

…hear my hopes for your discoveries (Letter to Students). I will distribute and read my letter to the kids, sharing what I hope they discover on our journey this year. I want this to set the stage for our experience. No syllabus on day one. Just my sincere pledge to my kiddos. 

…consider community and conflict in Seedfolks. I love this little book. I have used it for many years in many ways. It’s great for introducing community. It also fits with our theme for the semester: injustice. I love reading to my kids, so over the first seven days, I will read two to three chapters, asking the kids to consider what the author reveals about community and conflict. We will briefly share our discoveries. Today, we will meet the characters Kim and Anna. Love. This. Book.

…define and share ourselves in a Who Am I? Wordle. From a we-are-a-community (the classroom “our garden”) perspective, I will frame the need for the members of a community to be connected, and those connections begin with knowing, so we will use the Wordle activity to begin making connections. The kids will have to identify ten nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs that reflect who they are. They will “find” each in a short sentence. For mine: I am a teacher. I write a blog. I am dependable. I live simply. Once their sentences are complete, they will capture the words in a Wordle, adjusting size for importance. This will happen today and tomorrow. Today, each will share a sentence or two aloud with the class. The finished product will become the cover for their Journey Journals, giving me a quick visual for helping me get to know my kids. I tried to be sneaky about throwing the parts of speech in there. Just a quick check for understanding.

…begin our Journey Journals. This is one of my biggest changes for the year. I am going to be super intentional about reflection. And that will begin today. More specifics in the linked post, but each day we will log our day’s journey. I will do this with the kids. I want them to discover the necessity of reflection in learning, so I am making it a daily priority. Slow, easy start with it today. I will ask the kids to read the handout tonight, so we can discuss in greater detail tomorrow. 

And that’s where our path will lead today. Tomorrow, I will share how it goes. So eager to get year two underway. Thank you for joining me in my classroom. Special shout out to Project 180 partners, Jenna Tamura and Maddie Alerete. Thanks for joining me ladies. Gonna be the best year ever. Glad you are out here with me.

Do. Reflect. Do better. 

“I had to because it’s what was familiar to me when I was trying to keep my head above water during those first couple years.  It wasn’t until a few years later, when I moved into my own classroom, that I started to realize that the familiar was not best for my kids.”  

Nine years ago I walked through the doors at Cheney High School.  As I stepped into my classroom, with bags of school supplies and a bundle of nerves, I thought about the things I knew.  I knew I was excited to teach Language Arts.  I knew I was thrilled to be working with kids outside of coaching. I knew, as a brand new 23-year-old teacher, I did not know everything.  And that last thought forced me to think about the things I did not know at that time.  I did not know the value and importance of relationships.  I did not know how to grade my students.  I did not know how different year nine would look from year one.  

Yes, I went to college, have two degrees, and countless hours of information.  But there was never a time during those six-and-a-half years when someone said to me, “This is what your grading policy should look like”. So, by default, I went back to what I knew, which meant I graded my students the way I was graded when I was in school.  To be honest, I think I had to because it’s what was familiar to me when I was trying to keep my head above water during those first couple years.  It wasn’t until a few years later, when I moved into my own classroom, that I started to realize that the familiar was not best for my kids.  

Luck?  Fate?  Not sure.  Maybe both.  My new room was next to my colleague, and now my friend, Monte Syrie.  And while this brought about an endless supply of short jokes (which still continues to this day), I started to witness some grading do’s and don’ts that peaked my interest.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that I wanted to start incorporating these into my own grading policies.  I was at a place where I wanted to try something new. If there was something out there that might be better for my students than what I was currently doing, why not?  If it didn’t go as planned, reflect and do better.  If it was successful, reflect and do better.  Regardless, I was fairly confident there would be buy-in because of the open, honest, comfortable, and transparent relationship I strive to create with each of my students.

Since then I have kept those changes.  To name a few I give a 50%, rather than a zero, on any assignment or assessment not turned in. I allow retakes on an assessment as many times as a student wants.  Missing work can be turned in at any time, until the last day of the semester, with no penalty.  But, as we all know, nothing stays the same forever.  

And now, after watching and talking with Monte as he ventured through his Project 180 journey last year, and realizing I was once again at a point where I wanted to try something new, I have decided to also adopt the select-and-support approach to grading as well.  I am excited to embark on this journey with him.  I am excited to see how it goes.  I am excited to see what we learn.  

Here we go!

For much of my teaching career, I have lived a lie. It wasn’t a mean lie, as much as it was a necessary lie, necessary because I had to hide the fact that I didn’t really know what I was doing. So I hid. I hid behind the mantle of expert, and as I look back on it now, especially the early years, I realize the absurdity of the lie (and it was surely more mean than I believed, for kids suffered at my ignorant hand), but it was an absurdity for which I can only accept part of the blame, for the system in which I was educated, the system in which I was trained, the system in which I have now taught for over twenty years, failed me. No one taught me how to grade.

Oh, I went to college. In fact I have two degrees in education, but in all that time, no one ever sat me down, and said, “Okay, here’s how this whole grading thing works.” Of course, now I realize that this never transpired because no one knows–I mean really knows. Do we? If so, I would have to believe that there would be something that we could put our hands on, something that could guide the way, a touchstone from which we could seek wisdom to prepare and provide a valid, reliable, equitable approach to that which carries so much weight in our students’ present and future: grading. If it exists, I have not found it. But I seek it. I have sought it among my colleagues for over two decades. For twenty plus years, from numerous colleagues I have directly and indirectly sought “the way.” But all that I have found are numerous, similar-but-never-the-same approaches to grading. Seems no one ever really taught them, either.

I have sought it among the literature, where I have found some promising possibilities but no definitive answers, other than there is little to no support for that which is commonly practiced in the form of traditional grading. And it was–and still is–that particular revelation, where I the finally fully felt the burden of the lie that I had been carrying for the majority of my career. So I quit. I quit pretending that I was an expert because I was a teacher, and I started shedding my traditional grading practices. Slowly at first, I got rid of zeros; I stopped penalizing kids for late work; I even stopped failing kids. And before long, the shedding became a cascade, culminating in my completely getting rid of grades last year, a move that led me to where I am today, in the realm of the gradeless, a realm of like-minded teachers who I believe somewhere along the way, shed, too, their skin of old, in search of that which would better serve as a means to support and communicate learning. But importantly, I have not found the gradeless realm to be the place of answers. No, to be sure, it is a dimension of questions, inhabited by seekers. We do not have the answers. But we seek the answers. And that is what matters. We are here to learn. We are here to share. And as we are here to learn, we live an existence of learning; we walk a path of perpetual questions, seeking answers not to become expert, but simply to become better.

By now, most of my readers and gradeless peers know that I am always chasing better. And that pursuit is paved with questions. This past week, seeking better with my new gradeless team, we encountered some questions in our discussions that will hopefully lead to better.

Select and Support

This year, we are using a select-and-support approach to grading. At the end of the term, kids will select and support a grade in a teacher-student conference providing evidence in answer to the questions:

1. What evidence do you have that you met the focus standards?
2. What evidence do you have that you achieved growth with the focus standards?

We are happy with this. This is what we want our approach to be this year. But there’s a problem, a problem that revealed itself from… questions. Damn questions, always leading to problems.

Do we need to provide delineated descriptions of grades for the kids?

Are we just going back to traditional grades if we provide what a grade has to be?

Will the descriptions just become a checklist?

Will we create a system of minimums again? Meaning, will we recreate the reality we sought to get away from where kids ask, “What do I have to do to get an A?”

What if a student asks, “How will I decide which grade to pick? What’s an A?”

What if a parent asks the same question at Open House?

What is an A?

What is a B?

What is a C?

Hmmm. It all seemed so easy. Kids select. Kids support. We put the grade on the transcript. And we would move to the next grading period. Nope. Full stop. We had to come up with an answer, an answer that fit us, an answer that protected our belief that kids must own their learning, an answer that supported the kids in their taking that ownership. So, I went home and slept on it. Here’s our answer.

1. We are going to ask kids to individually indicate what they believe is required for an A, a B, and a C. Before we share our grading approach for the year, we are going to hand each kid a 3×5 card (see graphic above), and ask him or her to provide information about each grade. We will ask them to write their names on the cards, and we will collect and store them.
2. At midterm, when we are required to put a grade on the report card, we will ask our kids to complete a mid-term progress report. We will not conference with the kids, but the process is essentially the same. The kids will select and support a grade with evidence. To help them in the process of selecting their grades, we will redistribute the “grade cards” they made at the beginning of the year. We will re-collect and store the cards. The kids will take their progress reports home to share with parents. They will return them signed. And we will enter the grade.
3. At end of term, we will once again give kids their grade cards to assist them in their grade selection before conferences. During the conference we will ask the kids if they want to make any changes to their grade cards. We will keep the cards.
4. Repeat process for second semester.
5. For the final conference, we will ask kids to revisit their grade cards, and as part of their final conference we will ask them to share their reflections on grades from the year.

But, wait. Kids can’t decide what a grade is. They are not experts. Teachers have to decide. Okay, let’s walk down that path for a moment. Yesterday, I spent the day with my colleagues from Cheney High School. Seventy teachers and 4 administrators. Let’s imagine that I had given them the same grade card I am going to give my kids, asking them to describe what is required for each of the three grades. And though I cannot claim to know exactly how it would have played out, if I had to guess, I would offer that there would be a great number of variances among answers, leading one to wonder which answers were more “expert” than the others. Oh, I am sure that there would have been some general semblance of excellent (A), good (B) , and average (C) among the responses, but I have to wonder if the kids won’t arrive at the same general concept. And if so, what might that reveal? Are we trained experts on grading? Or are we just more experienced products of the system? In truth, don’t most teachers–out of necessity–end up grading how they were graded? I did. I had to. There was nothing else to turn to. So, I wonder. I wonder if kids might not learn more from the experience if I give them the opportunity to set their own standards. Of course, I don’t know. But there are a lot of things I don’t know. And as it turns out, I am not sure I know any better than they what an A is. Sure it’s a risk, and in the end, it could prove a mistake, but I will own it. I will learn from it. I will do better from it. All I can do. I’m no expert.

Do. Reflect. Do better.

Good morning, all. Here is my parent letter for the 2017 – 2018 school year. As always, feel free to use and/or adapt to fit your needs. DM me @MonteSyrie on Twitter if you want access to the original doc. For those already in the classroom, hope your year is off to a fantastic start. For those whose starts are right around the corner, hope you are as eager as I to get going. Happy Friday.

Do. Reflect. Do better.

Dear Parents/Guardians,

Hi, my name is Monte Syrie. I will be your child’s language arts teacher for the 2017 – 2018 school year. I am honored to join him or her in his or her learning journey this year. This year will mark the twenty-second year of my own learning journey, and while I tend to say this every year, I truly believe that this year will be my best year ever. And as I look ahead to my “best year ever,” here are some things I would want you to know.

What I want you to know.

• I want you to know that I care about your child. She or he is not a number. She or he is not a “seat-filler.” She or he is a person, and I will treat her or him as such. I will strive diligently to get to know her or him as a individual person, so I may best help her or him as an individual learner. I believe all my students come to me at different places socially, emotionally, and academically, and I will meet them wherever they are. So, I will meet your child where she or he is, and from there we will journey forth into our learning experiences for the year.
• I want you to know that I encourage and value your role as a partner. I have long felt that by the time students reach high school, as a system, we tend to place parents at arm’s length. I think this is unfortunate. I believe that optimal learning requires a shared responsibility among teachers, parents, and students. We have to partner in this, and so with that I offer you an open invitation to be a guest in room 211 this year. Please join us. All I would ask is that you be willing to participate in the day’s activities. Ideally, you would schedule this with me, but an open invite is an open invite. You are welcome. Always.
• I want you to know that communication between us is important. Just as I presented an open-door invite above, I also offer a direct line of communication assurance. Communication is a must. If there is ever anything that you wish to address with me, please do so. My contact information is below. My preferred form of communication is email. Please never hesitate to contact me.
• I want you to know that I believe that your child owns her or his learning. I am not passing the buck. I simply believe that if your child is going to make the most of his or her learning opportunities, then he or she must take ownership. Here is what I wrote to him or her in my letter to students. “From the deepest recesses of my teacher being, I believe that this is the key to true learning. You have to own it, for when you own it, you take responsibility for it. I am responsible for joining and aiding you in your journey, and I enthusiastically own that. But you are responsible for your learning, young friend.”
• I want you to know that I value learning over grading. In the past few years I have made major strides in providing an approach to that places greater emphasis on learning, not grading. As such, your child will find himself or herself in a feedback rich environment, which has been made more possible with my stepping away from traditional grading practices. Please carefully read the attached documents explaining my grading policies. And, as offered above, please do not hesitate to contact me with questions.
• I want you to know that I understand the strain that homework can place on you and your child. It is not my goal to burden your child or your family with a heavy workload outside of school. In most instances, your child will have time to do our work in class, where I am available for feedback–the ideal situation. So, consequently, he or she will not have “homework” in the traditional sense. Instead, my “homework” for the year will be asking your child for at least 30 minutes of reading each night. That is my homework for the year. I would like you to partner with me by encouraging your child to complete this homework. 7 days a week. 30 minutes a day.
• I want you to know my approach to life and teaching: Do. Reflect. Do Better. Twenty-two years into my journey, I do not have all the answers. I am just seeking to do better each day, each year. This year is no different. I will make mistakes, and some of my plans will fail miserably. But I expect and accept that because I know I will learn from it each and every time. This is how I approach my own learning. It is how I will ask your child to approach his or her leaning.

These are the things I would want you to know as we set out on our own journey together as the adults in the party. I am keenly aware of the trust that you place in me for your child’s care and education each day when she or he walks into my classroom. I, too, am a parent, and have the same expectations for my own children. And so, please know that I take my role in your child’s journey very seriously, and I will do my best to see him or her safely to our journey’s end. Thank you for joining me this year. I hope it is a “best year ever” for you and your child.

Sincerely,

Monte Syrie

msyrie@cheneysd.org

(509)-559-4042