Snow day to sick day. I swear winter hates me, and it knows right where to hit me: time. Lost days are hard to get back, but I guess it is what it is, not much I can do about it. So, back at it Monday. Sorry, all.

Started the week with nearly a 3,000 word post on Monday to barely a word yesterday and today. Thanks for all your support this week. To “An Observer,” thank you for the opportunity to reflect and express on 180. Everything is an opportunity, even if it doesn’t seem it at the time. The journey continues.

Happy Friday, all. Have a great weekend. Be gone, dreadful winter. Be gone.

Been a roller coaster of a week. Admittedly, I got blind-sided and a bit rattled by an unexpected drop with a couple of loops. I allowed “An Observer’s” anonymous attacks on 180 and me to seep into my spirit, distracting me from the goal. But as I moved forward, I was able to accept it as an opportunity to reflect upon and continue with my journey, my vision to help improve education.  Her attacks persisted (if you care to see her latest rant, you can find it in the comments of the following link  http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=1504).  Another opportunity to reflect.

In her attacks, she suggests that I am all alone in my selfish universe, on an island with little support, suggesting, too, that I hide the negative to project a shiny facade for 180. I am sorry that she sees me that way. Those who know me, know differently. Those who see my thread, see me–support me. And it is that which keeps me plugging along. I know I am not alone. And while few do comment on my actual blog, (Mom comments all the time, but she’s my mom…), many of you let me know in various ways through Facebook, Twitter, email, and face-to-face conversations. You are there. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. The 96 comments on the FB post this weekend offering support and love was incredibly uplifting and heartwarming. Again, thank you. And while I do not think it is either feasible or necessary to show them all, I do think it is necessary and fair to share some. I want to share the support that exists within the walls of the “shiny facade.”

•      Syrie. Just so you know, I am in complete support of what you are doing in your classroom. You responded to those not very nice comments very well in today’s post. I thank you for what you are doing in education, and I hope people continue to question you so eventually they can see how great your approach actually is. BECAUSE IT IS GREAT. It is what is best for the kids. You are not taking any experiences from them. You are giving them the most important experience a teacher can offer: OPPORTUNITY. As you said, we get out what we put in no matter what grade we end up with. I was a 4.0 high school student because I was really good at turning in extra credit and turning in my assignments on time. Yes, I had A’s, but those grades did not represent what I had learned academically or what I had learned about myself. Your classroom is a place where students can learn about themselves as they struggle, take risks, reflect, grow, and succeed all on their own (with your guidance). They have to care about themselves, not a grade, and in the end it makes them a stronger person and independent learner. I apologize for ranting. Again, I thank you for what you are doing. Have a wonderful rest of your week. Stay positive! The kids are worth it.

• Mr. Syrie,
  I hope this will be a surprising blog post for you to read. Surprising not so much with regards to content as with some of these posts I’m sure, but to the sender. I posted once to a blog in 2007. I literally have 10 things more meaningful and productive that I could be doing while I type this. I don’t know why I decided to post on your blog which looks well sorted out by the way. Maybe needed to say a few things. My initial reaction when reading your post on your blog was “wow he’s actually making a difference, that’s really great!” Reading along I found the comment revealing the wrinkle in your plan-namely giving each student an A. Wait a minute. That did not sound like the guy I remember. Mr. Syrie as I knew him was one of the hardest working, most dedicated, driven and inspiring people I had met at the time. You inspired me many times to push on, literally push myself further up those hills and through the challenges that life hit me with.
  I kept reading a few posts and it all made sense-perfect sense! Grades are indeed often handed out in school. If a 4.0 is the best-100%-how can a kid get a 4.2?!? What does it mean? What’s the point? The point is public education in most locales is absolutely broken. Grades don’t mean much anymore. My class had 14 Valedictorians 20 years ago. They all had “perfect grades”. What a joke. I had the urge to reply to the Observer who had quite obviously missed the entire point of your approach. A response from me was unnecessary. Reading further, your responses could not have explained it more perfectly. Do you remember a saying “If I have to explain it to you, you wouldn’t understand.”? Bingo. Not everyone will “get it” That’s OK. You care too much, perhaps. Is that a bad thing? Good?
  If there is one thing I am made acutely aware of every day, it’s that you can’t help everyone. Not that you wouldn’t if you could. You simply can’t. Some things aren’t fixable. Trying to fix things that aren’t can break you. Some people don’t care to understand and some simply cannot. Those are tough lessons to learn. But that’s OK because you have helped by this time, a couple thousand students. I suspect many would have never found their thread without having someone like you step into their classroom and give them the “opportunity” to find it for themselves. Whether you continue with your current grading system or not, the student experience in your class will undoubtedly be the same or better that parents pay tens of thousands annually to send their kids to “the best of schools” to receive.
  I remember talking to my Dad in my mid-twenties driving through central Washington. He asked me “whatever happened to Monte?” I told him you’d gone off to Royal City to teach English and coach Cross Country. I never really understood why-I mean, I knew what kind of person you were. We both kind of reflected on that and agreed that you could’ve done anything for a career and been hugely successful by any measure. Now I know why you went into teaching. It’s what you were destined to do. You’re a great motivator.
  So how’d I find Mr. Syrie? By accident, procrastinating work, on a whim while looking to see if JW was still coaching in Cheney. I saw his picture and saw yours as I scrolled down the page. Ahh the power of the Google! It’s good you are in Cheney. Good peeps there. Throughout life, there will be times when the only thing that will keep your students going is their thread. If there is anyone who can help them find it, and motivate them to hold onto it and follow it, you can.
  Strong work, Pal.
  Maybe we’ll get together when we’re retired for an easy spin.

•      …even though I wasn’t fortunate enough to ever have you as my teacher, I know that you have incredible passion for learning and for each and every student. Heck, I still tear up thinking about that post you made about my sister and her singing in your class. These comments were obviously made by people who are upset about something in their lives, and they’re anonymously lashing out on you. I just went through something similar recently. Please don’t take this to heart though! Honestly, you are a huge inspiration to me as a future educator, and you touch so many lives with your love for teaching and students!

•      It takes courage to post the challenges and not just the support. There’s almost always both and often little we can do to please everyone (except not give up!). Examining our practices takes courage and you do it publicly, taking the risk and being a leader and learner…keep it up! **And yes, I’m at school right now as well, preparing!

•      Monte, this is awesome! You’re getting out there AND getting anger and resistance? Fun! Bring it on– the timing is perfect– you spent last week reviewing, revising, and recommitting. You are ready for the naysayers! (And if you don’t want a piece of them, I do! Lemme at them! Guest blogger? 😉 )

• Your approach to education is founded on fostering intrinsic motivation. By removing the big, extrinsic motivator of grades, you reinforce students’ innate curiosity and love of learning. The research supporting this pedagogical approach is longstanding and overwhelming, of course. Those attached to the culture of extrinsic motivation have a difficult time recognizing the value of instilling the love of doing something for its own sake as the deepest, most enduring aspect of education. But never mind. Take heart in the independence and strength of mind you are helping young people to find in themselves.

• I find it interesting that the second comment mentioned that this was a selfish project to be doing, and yet in all of my education courses where I have to write forty page finals, I have to use empirical and peer reviewed research to back up my methods and ideas for teaching in a classroom. Research like that starts with projects like yours. Research has to come from somewhere. I feel that your project is a reflection that you want to find better ways to inspire and educate future generations. This is how growth in the field of education works.
  There are more important things in life than working for a “reward.” Being self inspired to be better as an individual and as a community member is one of them.
  On a final note, you absolutely were the catalyst for my passion to be a teacher. I often refer back to your methods when I think about the way I want to teach. Educators that want things easy for themselves don’t make positive, life long, lasting impressions like that on their students.

• I do have a son in your class. I allow my son to make his decisions towards his education choices. He wanted to continue project 180. I told him i didnt believe he had enough self discipline to handle it. I said, this project is for kids who are ready to be mature enough to want to earn that “A”. I said project 180 in my opinion is for kids that are self motivated, that are driven to show off their knowledge or their determination to gain more knowledge without the prodding of the teacher or parent. Ill be honest, i wasnt a FAN of project 180 but I believe in it. I think youre being innovative in your teaching methods and i appreciate that. My son has had a ton of stress in his life, i do my best to help lessen it but im sure i probably just add to it. Being his parent i did tell him, he needs to start taking a more active roll in Project 180. He said he would and i hope he is.
  I have faith in your project Monte Syrie, i think many do.
  There will always be those that disagree and may say hurtful things. Change is hard. Change is scary and can be very confusing to those not willing to allow change in their life. Control is another thing people have a hard time letting go of. Believe me…..i know!
  Stay strong, hold your ground, youre the teacher, not them.
  People may believe your giving kids a free pass, i believe youre leading kids to find their own way to a Pass that works for them. Some it may take a bit to embrace the change, but Rome was not built in 1 day, let alone a school year. Keep up the good work Monte.

• Hey Syrie, I haven’t been reading your blog so i don’t know by what means you’ve been implementing this experiment. I do, however, know the motive is not laziness. You’re teaching style has always stressed the idea of student motivated learning, and that led to my proudest moment in my student career! To be honest it’s still one of the proudest moments of my life. Whoever these skeptics are clearly don’t know who you are. Keep being the teacher students deserve!

• See how much love and support you have?? You’ve made such a huge, crucial impact on so many lives. This is a learning curve for both you and the students, and these people who are insulting you and your style of teaching clearly don’t have the slightest idea of the type of person that you are. I think what you’re doing is great, Sy, and obviously a lot of other people agree. I hope you have a little more peace of mind with all of these positive comments and don’t lose too much sleep over the couple of haters. 🙂

• Interesting Syrie. I must say, considering my own cynicism, that I find your approach motivational. Grades are a disappointing social construct that I never cared for. I would have sought exploration in such a class, however I am keenly aware of individuals who would not have, and it does rub my impressions of merit the wrong way. Frankly I think the problems with grades is the rigidity it imposes on the system and lack of mobility for students. Up or Down. I entered kindergarten at above college level reading. By the time I reached college i’d stopped reading. I hated public school, but despite calling you third graders, I loved your class. It is the thread you speak of that I loved. Not so much the content but the way you taught was what the instruction was about. An openness. I find your experimentation thoughtful from my perspective 1100 miles away getting my masters. Cheers

Success is rarely a straight, easy, or expedient line from start to finish, and if and when it ever is, it is success shallowly gained, shallowly achieved. Success–real, I dug-deep-and-fought-for-it success–is a mess, a circuitous mass of dead ends, restarts, and reroutes. Success without some mistake, some setback, some failure is not truly success.

And this is what I try to instill in my kids. I want them to see success as much a struggle as a triumph.  And, more often than not, this manifests itself in my work with them during our writing experiences.  I tell them I want to see their beautiful messes. I tell them that they may not erase or backspace on drafts, as it destroys the evidence of their toil, the trail of their paths. I tell them that if it was easy, it’s probably not good. I tell them that success in writing is series of intentional accidents until they find the right words. And I say this over and over until it sinks in. And that is not easy, for they have learned that–been conditioned to believe that–success happens in a straight expedient line from one lesson, to one chapter, to one unit after another, ever-forward in a linear fashion as they are rushed headlong through the coverage model that we so perpetuate in education. And consequently, they–I believe–experience too many shallow successes because we don’t give them the time to live and breathe and struggle in their messes. Learning takes time. Success takes time. A lot of time. Through the 180 experience, I am able to give that time, that opportunity, that important first step for kids to embrace the mess of success. Today, the mess, the long road to success continues. Love making messes with my kids.

Happy Tuesday, all. Take the long road today. Make a mess. Give yourself that gift, that freedom. You deserve it.

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

~William Stafford

There is a thread I follow, a thread I latched onto a long time ago, and while that thread has gone in and among things over the years, it has not changed, and I have not let go. Can’t. Won’t. I cling to it desperately as I make my way day to day in a world filled with the young whom I serve, pledging my best to help them on their own ways. And as I go about my days, I encounter those who do not see the thread, and I have to explain. This past Saturday, I encountered two who do not see the thread in my ways, so I have to explain. I must. The thread brought me to them; they, then, must serve a purpose in my journey. And so, I will explain.

Comment #1

A looks better then a C??? bro are u serious? No kidding ? U expect 16 years olds to do work when u promise them an A ? How is a child supposed to learn anything when they don’t have to care ? All you are is a stupid liberal. You clearly have no brain cells.

This comment was in response to my saying in the “Making Sense” post from last week that perhaps one reason some chose to remain with Project 180 is that it was a “free” A (I will speak to how free the A really is below). It was my attempt to provide an honest analysis of the results. As for, “How is a child supposed to learn anything when they don’t have to care?” Well, it is troubling that we perpetuate a system where we have to give kids a reason to care beyond the opportunity to learn and build oneself. If we have to give them a reason to care, then do they really care? Is compliance really a better sign of caring than commitment? I am not convinced, so I push my kids to care for their own sake, not for the grade carrot that I dangle in front of them. As for your final comment, I doubt I can get you to see my “liberal stupidity” any differently, so I won’t try.

Comment #2

I have been reading your blog with interest and skepticism. It sounds like this project is more for your benefit than that of your students. I am also surprised that a school would even allow a teacher to give an automatic A to every student in the class. You made it very clear that this was a project to see what the outcome would be, like a test of a teenager’s mind, instead of actually teaching them. Maybe you did it to make it easier on YOU, so you wouldn’t have to work so hard and give a test to see how good you actually taught them. You are angry at a student because he chose the A and now you want to start grading him? This is what YOU wrote: I told him 4 months ago when I gave him the A, I was giving him nothing. So if you are admitting to giving ‘nothing’, what makes that child interested in doing ‘something’? He hasn’t been given a guideline as to what you even expect if you are giving nothing. You as a teacher, are not doing this in the best interest of the student. You should be teaching them that hard works get the rewards, it doesn’t happen automatically. And then to change it midstream? Really? How will you teach a class where some want a grade and some don’t? What will the students with the automatic grade do while the others are being tested? In this life, there is no job, anywhere, where the boss says, I will give you a wage to come every day to work. You just decide what to do with your time, because I have nothing to tell you that I expect of you. That is ridiculous! You did not earn a teaching degree by winging it and the collage just passed you. You had to work hard to earn that degree! That is what you should be teaching these students. That is what they go to school for. Otherwise, they could stay home. You would not be needed. People pay taxes and expect their children go to school to learn.

Given the length of this comment and the variety of concerns raised, I will attempt to present my response in a point-by-point manner. Here goes.

1. “It sounds like this project is more for your benefit than that of your students…Maybe you did it to make it easier on YOU, so you wouldn’t have to work so hard and give a test to see how good you actually taught them.” Easier on me? This has been by far my most challenging year of teaching in my 20 years of service. It has been incredibly difficult to step away from a traditional approach, where I could wield the power of grades to extrinsically motivate kids, trading it instead for mere influence to inspire kids to be intrinsically motivated. I have not taken the easy road, and I have not an easy destination. “A test to see how good you actually taught them”?  The Smarter Balanced Assessment is right around the corner, an assessment that all students must pass in Washington State to graduate, and while that is supposed to be a shared K-10 responsibility for all teachers with whom a child has come into contact, in reality, the finger gets pointed at he/she who stands at the end of the road. I am at the end of that road for my kids. We will see how well I have taught them then. Ironically, I was at school preparing a model introduction on a Sunday to help with a performance task when I read your comment. Sunday. Day off. At school. Typing in my coat because the heat is off. Easier on me indeed. The “test” is coming. And though sadly some will not pass, those who do will be the ones who have committed to learning. Each kid is leaving a trail behind him, a record of what they have done or not.  At the end, those who do not pass probably will be the ones who have not left much of a trail.
2. “I am also surprised that a school would even allow a teacher to give an automatic A to every student in the class.” So glad you raised this concern. Part of my motivation for doing Project 180 was to expose a dirty little secret in public education. I did 180 because I can. I say that not out of arrogance, but rather, I say it out my own astonishment that there are no real checks and balances to a teacher’s grading approach. In essence, we can do what we want. As a default, most teachers employ the traditional percentage-based approach, but they do that mostly because it’s what was used with them. Teachers take a 3 credit course on assessment in college that deals very little with grading approaches. So, as a default, teachers employ the traditional percentage-based approach to grading. We use it because it exists. There is no evidence base to support its effectiveness. We cling to it for its familiarity, not its wisdom. Unconvinced that the approach truly fostered real learning in the classroom, I abandoned it. I got tired of playing the grade game. I may have swung the pendulum too far the other way, but it had been stuck for far too long on the other end. So, I took an extreme approach. I did it to get people talking. I wanted people–mostly my colleagues–to raise objections, so we could come to the table and have a serious discussion about grading practices, a discussion that is long overdue. Hopefully our exchange will nudge us closer to that reality.
3. “You are angry at a student because he chose the A and now you want to start grading him? This is what YOU wrote: I told him 4 months ago when I gave him the A, I was giving him nothing. So if you are admitting to giving ‘nothing’, what makes that child interested in doing ‘something’? He hasn’t been given a guideline as to what you even expect if you are giving nothing. You as a teacher, are not doing this in the best interest of the student.” At this point, I will offer that you are a parent of a student in my class. That said, I will take you back to the first day of school this year where I sent two letters home. One to you. One to your child. I will let them speak for the nothing that you speak of in your comment. As for angry, I am not sure you know me very well. My post last week expressed my confusion and concern over a student and family opting to stay with something of which they were so critical, confusion and concern over not choosing what I thought would be a preferable option. I wonder how many other teachers out there are willing to provide personalized options?
   (from the parent letter)Imagine, for a moment, that in my class you and your child will not have to play the grade game. You will already know the grade for the rest of the year, so now instead of asking about the grade, you can ask about the learning. And that is the essence: learning. An old teacher adage suggests that “grades are earned, not given,” but that is simply not true in the vast majority of classrooms. Grades in many cases and in many ways are given, and so I am doing as most do, giving a grade–granted it’s an A, but a grade is all I can give. I can’t give learning. Learning truly is earned. I really only provide the opportunity.
   Dear Learners:Welcome to Honors English 10. I am beyond excited to begin and share this journey with you. And while I am not certain about all that we will encounter and experience along our way–or even where we will land at our journey’s end, I am certain that it will be unlike anything we have experienced in the past. As you entered the room today, I handed you a wooden letter A. It is my gift to you. It is your grade for the year. No, I did not misspeak, I am giving you an A…for the entire year. It is yours to keep. I will not take it back. Promise. Cross my heart.But, my young adventurers, take heed. For, after all, what I handed you is just what it appears to be: a wooden letter A. It is nothing. Oh, don’t worry. I am not going back on my promise. I will type the A into your transcript at the end of each semester, but even that is merely a digital character, a mark on a screen. It, too, in reality, is nothing. So, before you sit back and relax with your gift and chalk me up as your “best teacher ever,” consider the following.In truth, I gave you nothing, but I did that, young traveler, to give you everything. When I handed that A to you as you came aboard today, I really gave you ownership. I gave you the keys to your learning. I gave you choice; I gave you freedom. I gave you responsibility. And that is the essence. In the end, young friend, you are responsible for your learning. I cannot give it to you. In this arrangement that we find ourselves, I am responsible for providing opportunity and support, and I can and will give that freely and abundantly, but I am not responsible for your learning. You are. This reflects, then, the terms of our agreement for our journey.So, we set out. 180 days from now we will set anchor in some unknown harbor. But before we set sail, pick up your A. Look at it. Feel it. Right now it is an empty gesture, a simple symbol. It won’t mean anything until you give it meaning. Months from now, as we look back on the calm and storm of our journey, and you hold this symbol in your hand, what will it mean then? I can’t wait to hear about your discovery. Thanks for letting me join you. I am honored. Welcome aboard.~Syrie
4. “How will you teach a class where some want a grade and some don’t? What will the students with the automatic grade do while the others are being tested?” Actually, rather easily. The content and teaching approach remains the same, regardless the choice for the grading approach. For the three who have opted for the traditional approach, I have met with them, and we have created a personalized grade book to help them keep track of their grades. The assignments will be the same, the assessments will be the same, the tests will be the same. The only difference is the grading preference.
5.  “You should be teaching them that hard works get the rewards, it doesn’t happen automatically…In this life, there is no job, anywhere, where the boss says, I will give you a wage to come every day to work. You just decide what to do with your time, because I have nothing to tell you that I expect of you. That is ridiculous! You did not earn a teaching degree by winging it and the collage just passed you. You had to work hard to earn that degree! That is what you should be teaching these students. That is what they go to school for.” Okay, I lumped this all into the “something-for-nothing” concern that you have raised. Of course, I hope that the letters above address this to some degree, but I will offer more. No thing is free. Nothing on the other hand is freely and cheaply given because it is…well, nothing. But the thing that I offer is an opportunity for kids to learn the value of commitment and responsibility, a thing that cannot be faked or copied from a peer’s assignment, a thing that is not defined by some teacher’s arbitrary approach to grading. As products of the public education system and the traditional-grading approach that comes with it, we have all played the grade game, sometimes getting A’s for nothing learned, sometimes not getting the grade we think we deserved based on the subjectivity of the teacher. And in the end, as we look back, and if we are honest, and we take the “grade” out of the mix, we got out of school what we put into school, just as we have gotten out of life what have put into life. I have not taken that important life lesson away from my kids. I have taken away the pretense that too often exists in their formative years. In reality, in my class, they can only get out of it what they put into it. For I only offer opportunity. And with that opportunity comes an abundance of support and encouragement. But I cannot do it for them. Isn’t there a lesson in that? Yes, I worked very hard in college, but only because I pushed myself. In reality, the “real world” allows too many opportunities for us to skate along and take the easy road. I could have skated through college; I could skate through teaching, but I don’t. I can’t. I won’t. And that is because I have learned to push myself, for myself. I cannot trace it back to a grade, but I can trace it back to the people who instilled self-worth in me. That is what I want for my kids. A real opportunity to discover their own power, real power, not the artificial, compliance-creating, short-term power that comes with grades.
6. “People pay taxes and expect their children go to school to learn.” Yep.  And those people who pay taxes need to question–they have the duty to question–what is going on in our schools. As a taxpayer, you are doing your duty. But I hope that your questions continue. I hope that as you begin to take a more critical view of your child’s education, you ask the same questions of all his teachers. I am on your radar because what I offer is different, because I make public–EVERY day–what goes on in my classroom. It’s too bad that that which is familiar seldom comes across the screen, and it is accepted as fine because it’s always been there, but I wonder what lurks beneath. I wonder if one dug what she would find.

2861 words later and sadly the thread is likely no more apparent than when I began. But it is there. I feel it. Always have. I am sorry that you cannot see it.

Happy Monday, all. Follow your thread.

One of the goals of Project 180 is to reduce the amount of stress kids experience in their days. And while science supports the notion that stressed brains can’t learn, I tend to rely on sense more than science. It’s not that I don’t value what science offers; to be sure, it’s just that I don’t need it to establish and back up what I already know. Kids cannot, will not learn when they are over stressed. And while I cannot completely remove all stress, I can reduce it. I cannot control what happens outside my classroom, but I can control what happens inside. I am in charge of how kids feel in my classroom.  And that is one of the major driving forces for my taking grades off the table. But really it’s about  more than the grade. So much more.

It’s about how the kids feel for 55 minutes a day in my room. And that requires intention and constant effort. It is not an accident. It is a carefully-considered, carefully-choreographed approach that places kids first and content second. Yesterday, we began “Writer’s Craft Workshop,” which we will have every Thursday for the rest of the year. The academic aim here is to introduce and apply elements of craft to our writing. The human aim here is to provide a low-stakes, low-stress environment for kids to practice and play with their writing. And, as I discovered, this is not as simple as carving out a day of the week to create the necessary environment. It is a complex endeavor that requires a surprising amount of guidance and reassurance. Oh, not in the academic sense. On the contrary, the kids don’t need much help to assume their academic personas, fretting over the right way to do things; they have been well and thoroughly conditioned for that role.  They need help and support to just relax and and learn by making messes on their papers, by making mistakes in their efforts. Sad that we have to guide kids to a place where they can breathe, where they can relax, where they can learn. And so, I try. I try. I work hard to create a culture where kids can just be, where can kids can learn, where kids can relax, where kids can breathe–just breathe. And that is the 180 difference.

Happy Friday, all. Don’t forget to breathe today. Just breathe.

Project 180 has been transformational for me as an instructor in a number of ways. Perhaps among the most important transformations has been my stepping off the stage. I am no longer the star, and this has been hard for me, for I like the spotlight. I like being up front. I like talking. I really like talking. But that has changed, and what’s interesting is that it was not an intentional move on my part. It just happened. And now that I have learned to talk less, I have learned to listen more in my supporting role. The kids now have the stage, but their new roles have taken some time, some adjustment. And yesterday, was no easy adjustment. For the first time this year, I put them in teams. Up to now, they have had choice in where they have sat and with whom they have worked. Understandably, they have chosen their comfort. Yesterday, I stole some of that comfort.

Wednesdays for quarter three are grammar days. Though I have some reservations about teaching grammar in isolation, the reality for most of these kids requires a steady foundational knowledge of grammar for upcoming challenges: SBA, SAT/ACT, AP, and beyond. So, I feel I have an obligation to help them establish and build upon this foundation. In truth, it’s not quite as “isolated” as the name and approach may suggest, for there is practical and purposeful application to their writing. I like to think of it as grammar in repetition, giving the kids consistent opportunities to learn and practice. And that is why I have designated a day. And on that day, stemming from a belief that we can learn best with and from each other, I have placed kids in what I am calling Grammar Groups. And this was not comfortable.

Of course, I did not do it to torture them. I did it to stretch them beyond their comfort zones, to stretch them into situations that will no doubt reflect “real-world” work, where we do not always get to choose whom we work with. And though it was awkward and uncomfortable for some, they survived, and they will continue to survive. The graphic above reflects what I believe to be the ideal goal for a community of learners, and while we have a long way to go to get even close, I believe it is a goal worth chasing. And so we will. Together.

Happy Thursday, all. Ninety days. Half way there. Crazy.

With all but five returned, 81 of the 83 (97%)  in so far have elected to stay with the 180 option. And while I am pleased with this result, it gives me pause as I wonder what it really means. Here are some initial thoughts as I continue to process the outcome.

It was the path of least resistance. It’s become the “new familiar,” so folks stayed. I get it.

It’s a “free” A. Regardless of one’s feelings about 180, an A on a transcript looks better than a C. But nothing is free. One parent brought the word “nothing” into play with her comment at the bottom of a returned letter. In short, she made it clear that they were NOT in support of 180, that my approach had given her son the green light to do nothing, and that reality would be on my shoulders, my conscience. My response to her is below (name changed).

Good afternoon. Thank you for returning the parent letter indicating your preference for the approach I take with grading Justin. Thank you, too, for your frank feedback regarding 180. When I gave the A to Justin at the beginning of the year, it was certainly not intended to be an invitation for him to do nothing. On the contrary, I had hoped that it would motivate him to take greater responsibility for his learning. Unfortunately, my grand plan has not worked for Justin as it has for others. And that is why, mid-year, I presented the option to return to tradition. That said, I think that if it would better motivate him, we should return to tradition. His doing nothing is not okay, and if that is his plan for the rest of the year, I do not think it’s a wise choice on his part. I told him 4 months ago when I gave him the A, I was giving him nothing. It was up to him to make it something. So, of course the choice is yours, and it seems you have made it, but I wonder if we shouldn’t reconsider for Justin’s sake. Again, thank you for your candid comment.

 

Monte Syrie

So, it makes me wonder, then, about the motivation to stay with 180 in this case. If it is the cause of “nothing,” then              why continue? Is it because they know he would not likely earn an “A” with a traditional approach? Is the grade more important than the learning? Is this representative of what the system has done to condition students, parents, and society to place too much emphasis on grades instead of learning? How many others made the choice for the same reason? One wonders. It is of particular interest to me that all my most-vocal critics stayed with 180. Hmmm.

The 180 approach has reduced stress. I have a hunch that for some families this was a key factor in their decision. And this makes me happy for that is certainly something I sought to achieve. Stressed brains cannot learn.

The 180 approach is working. I am certainly not suggesting that is working for all, but it is for many. I hope at least that this was a factor in some of the decisions.

I may have been duped. It’s likely that a small handful of returned letters had forged or not fully-informed signatures. It’s what it is.

Okay, but what about the two who opted to return to tradition? What was their motivation?

Student #1: He needed the extra challenge of tradition. Mom and I had several face-to-face conversations about Jason’s (name changed) experiences in my class and their family’s breakfast-and-dinner-table discussions about character, learning, and the future, and for them, a return to tradition made the most sense. And so, after reassuring me that she believed in what I was trying to do with 180, she informed me that tradition was the better choice for them. I am happy to oblige. I love that they did not take this situation lightly. I love that they had deep, sustained conversations about learning. Love it.

Student #2: I will let Haley’s letter speak for itself (see above). I am so proud of her for taking charge of her learning, for making the choice that was best for her, and I am pleased to provide a culture of possibility that allows for such a choice. Choice is commitment. I have no doubt that Haley is committed. I hope those who elected to stay with 180 are as committed as she. So proud of this young lady.

Happy February, all. Come on spring!

Gonna take a short side route this morning. Gonna write about my seniors. Though I am not using Project 180 with them, I wanted to offer a glimpse of the journey that we began yesterday. We are getting ready to read Animal Farm. Our essential question for the unit is “How does power influence how decisions are made in society?” Yesterday, we began with a social experiment. I presented a scenario in which the students at CHS revolted, and all adults had been permanently dismissed from the building. Now in charge, the students’ task was to draft and adopt a set of commandments for all students to live by with the adults out of the picture. Of course, they had to play along, accepting the parameters that they still had to go to school from 8 – 3, Monday thru Friday. Thus, parameters loosely set, the kids got to work.

It was nothing short of fascinating. Oh, it was messy and mildly chaotic, but it was intriguing to watch them interact. I strictly stayed out of it, resisting my educator urges to give direction, to admonish inactivity, to…be the adult. I gave them the entire period, telling them that I would simply watch and take notes. And that’s what I did as they worked through the trials and tribulations of working as a community. Some took an active role. Some took a more passive role. Many did nothing at all, staring into their phones, their default escape from any awkward realities. And it was awkward. It was 38 minutes of awkward for my 4th period class. For my 5th, they managed 15 minutes of awkward. For each class, I took nearly 5 pages of notes, capturing–as best I could–the nuances of their interactions, which I will share with them as we debrief the activity today. One thing that struck me, especially from fourth, was how “adulty” the commandments were (draft example above). “Students shall complete work in a timely manner.” Ha! Gonna call BS on that.  Anyway, it was the beginning of what I hope proves to be an interesting, eye-opening experience for our newest round of “adults” about to meet the “real world.” Wanted to share.

As for Project 180, my sophs began their own journey of writing argumentative letters to the school board, addressing the controversy of using movies to teach the Holocaust. The kids will get a chance to support or protest the use of the movies The Book Thief, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, and Life is Beautiful at CHS. I am thankful that I can provide a “real” purpose and audience for their writing.

In other news, with all but a handful of parent letters in, all have elected to stay with 180.  Once I have them all in hand, I will share my thoughts on what the results might mean.

Happy Tuesday, all.

So proud of the Memory Projects these ladies did. Using their own money, they made shirts and hats to honor Holocaust Remembrance.  They have pledged to wear them once a month on a designated day in an effort to keep memory alive. Overall, Project Memory was a huge success in its first year. I have so many awesome models to share with my kids next year, so they can continue this proud classroom tradition.

On another note, it’s crazy that we have already reached the halfway point of the Project 180 journey as we begin second semester today. I have learned much along the way, and I am eager to continue learning as we seek to turn education upside down, one day at a time. Though today will tell more as the official turn-in day, with two-thirds of the parent letters returned, all have opted to stay with the 180 approach. Of course, I will process and reflect on what that truly means as I take the rest of the results in, but I am honored that so many continue to place their faith in me and my unconventional approach to learning, but it is not an honor lightly borne. Indeed, I take seriously the burden of this responsibility, the weight of this charge. It is my daily drive to succeed, to do my best, to be dedicated, to fulfill my sixty degrees of the triangle.

Happy Monday, all. Halfway there, but still oh so far to go. Thanks for keeping me company. Couldn’t do it without you.