“It is not just valuable but vital to one’s learning experience to have a connection to the teacher and the other students.”
Not all care of learning is carried equally. Well, at least not by me. Yes, I care about their learning with our grade-level priority standards as assessed by our final on Frankenstein. It was an important measure of our work together over the course of many weeks. I cared. But if I’m honest, I cared less, for I cared more about another aspect of our weeks-long learning experience in room 206. What would they carry forward? What was the most meaningful (authentic) thing they learned in my room from our work? I wantedneeded to know, so I went to the learning source, and I asked.
And, they answered. Below are but a few of the responses that fueled my fire that authentic learning exceeds the “student” in our rooms. Indeed, real learning is what sticks and stays with the humans in our rooms.
I could not be more proud of what my humans discovered and captured from their learning experiences this past semester.
“I often wonder how we upkeep the status quo by not celebrating the students who question our systems and rules. I want my students to be thoughtful, mindful, kind rebels who are willing to ask why. But school systems do not support/embrace/celebrate students (or teachers for that matter) who push back and ask the why….“
But why is such a pokey, prickly thing, Kelly. We cannot equip kids with such a thing. It will disrupt and threaten our sacred system.
Which, of course, is the very reason we should supply them with the word that will shake the foundations: why.
And here’s why.
Any work worth doing must be constantly vetted with why.
Easy enough with some work, but our work is human work with human attachment, with human sensitivities. Simply, we (for better–usually worse) get attached to our work, and when others ask why…well we tend to take it personally.
We get defensive. But why?
I suspect, mostly, because we don’t really know. When we don’t vet with why (meaning, making it an essential element in our practice), we don’t know why. And when we don’t know why, we can’t handle why, for it gets to the nitty, to the gritty, to the truth.
And that can be hard to handle. So, we avoid it. We do. How many times does the word why come up in our work?
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The sweet spot. The place where learning happens. The place where teaching happens. The place where I meet my kids. It is here where I make the difference. I call it the feedback-response process. They have done, and now, together we will DO BETTER.
And it is this that I use to encourage my kids to DO, telling them that I cannot teach them anything until they DO something. It is also the same message I will share with parents when I connect with them concerning (not) learning–because of not DOing. Simply, I need your kiddo to DO, so I can DO, and, then, together we can DO BETTER.
As I shared in Part One, I initially (passively) communicate this in Skyward (our online grade book) with a .6, which is an invitation to DO. If this initial, passive communication does not yield any action, then I take a more active approach by contacting parents, concerning learning. And, again, here, the frame matters.
I want both kids AND parents to understand the role of DOing in my classroom. We DO to DO BETTER. We DO to learn, to grow. That is what I want them to know.
And so, to that end–DOing BETTER, I also offer an invitation.
.7 = an invitation to DO BETTER
When kids and parents see this in Skyward, I want them to understand that there is an opportunity to DO BETTER. A .7 means not only have they DOne but also they have feedback waiting for them so they can DO BETTER. A .7 means that the feedback-response process has begun, and there is an open opportunity to continue DOing BETTER, one engagement at a time. Until, they reach a 1, which signifies done (they have met standard).
1 = DOne (Did)
Above is what the Learning Record (grade book) looks like in my classroom. I use this hard copy to capture movement (color shows movement). Circles indicate I have entered it in Skyward. As you can see there are a lot of .6’s. A lot of Didn’t. A lot of learning missed. And that’s not okay. I have too many kids not DOing. And that’s why I wrote this post. I have to DO BETTER. I know this. And as I shared in Part One, I am compelled to DO BETTER, which I believe always begins with a question,
better Builder: How do I get my kids to value doing in my classroom?
Tomorrow, I have an opportunity to begin again with a new semester, with a new group of kids. And though I have experimented with this point system for a while now, I am eager to renew my view of DO in the 180 classroom. I need to turn Didn’t to did–for each kid.
Not sure if you will find much value in this reflection, but I needed to work out it here, where I have worked out so many of my betters before. Thank you for letting me share my messy journey.
Happy Monday, all. Day off for me. Mid-winter break for us.
Doing establishes a place and time for learning, for reflecting. Learning is forward. As I suggested in yesterdays’s post, it’s an important action for an important effect: growth. But, for one to grow, one has to know where and when one began.
The image above was a recent attempt for me to visually frame reflecting for my kiddos, especially in regards to their doing leading to their learning. When they do, they begin the 180 cycle. They have established place–there and here; they have established time–then and now, both of which create the context for the learning forward cycle of looking back and forth between the place and time of their (continuous) doing, which I try to sell as learning (as growing).
We do to learn. We do to grow. And I believe reflecting is the most meaningful measure of growth. Learning is personal, and I think it becomes deeply personal when we get to a place where we feel like we own our learning. So, that, then (again) is the frame I offer my kids.
It is their learning. Though, sadly, most do not believe this. They think that school is being done to them, that it is something out of their hands, that it is about complying, not committing.
I am trying to change this by putting it in their hands, by getting them to do–not to comply with me, but to commit to themselves. Thus, the cycle. Do to Reflect to Do Better.
To my kids:
Do for yourself so you can see for yourself where and when you are in your learning.
We can’t reflect until we do. We can’t do better until we reflect. That has to be the way forward as we just keep moving through the Do-Reflect-Do Better cycle.
At the end, if they didn’t do, they didn’t reflect; they didn’t do better. They didn’t grow (as much as they could have). I want them to grow. But more, I want them to want to grow–for themselves. And I want them to see that for themselves, in themselves, of themselves–in their own reflections.
I don’t/won’t fail kids. For any reason. And I have my reasons, not the least of which is my not being so sure it’s not I who failed (the kid). For my longtime readers, this is not a revelation. I have not been quiet about my refusing to fail kids in a system that has long failed, still fails, and will continue to fail kids. No F’s in the Project 180 classroom.
So that leaves the D. D is for diploma.D is for dummy. I’ve heard both (and others). The former is technically true. One can get a diploma with straight D’s. The latter is…well, dumb. Regardless of the fourth letter’s storied past, in the 180 classroom, D has come to mean “didn’t.” Didn’t Do. So, didn’t (couldn’t) Reflect. And didn’t then (have the chance to) Do Better.
Simply, didn’t learn (as much as they might have).
DOing
There is value in doing. Action is an important cause to an important effect: growth. In the classroom, doing is an important part of learning. Seems obvious. Seems simple. Seems. But its value often escapes the obvious and confounds the simple. Because, as we know, kids, for various reasons and in various ways, don’t do. I call it the Do Dilemma. If all kids did, and if all do’s were true, we’d face no dilemmas with grading, with reporting, with learning. But didn’t “dilemmifies” our work. It has. It does. It will. So, then, I am compelled to build a better.
better Builder: How do I get my kids to value doing in my classroom?
I head back to the kitchen.
Here’s my latest batch of better for doing in the 180 Classroom.
First, the frame.
Dear Kiddos,
I don’t want you to do to do in here. I want you to do to grow. I can help you grow. I am trained for it. I am experienced in it. I’m actually kinda good at it. I can. If you do. That’s where I meet you in your learning, which is where my teaching begins. I need that from you. I need that for you. So, I will earnestly encourage you every day to do to learn, to grow. It’s why you’re here. It’s why I am here. Your doing leads to my doing leads to our doing. We do to learn.
It is this or something like this that I will share with my new group of kiddos this coming week for framing our work. I want doing to have value greater than a score in the book. So, to that end, I make minimal the numerical value. I record and report not doing (Learning Checks) as a .6 in Skyward. I do not record or report practice. I only report and record the things in which I engage with kids in the feedback-response process.
Of course, that does not mean that I don’t promote practice. I do. And I am very intentional about making sure there’s a clear connection between practice and performance. I want the kids to discover that there’s value in doing the practice as it prepares them for the performance. And that is why I ask them to do it. And “ask” is a key word here, for that’s really what it is insofar that practice is not something I make them do; it is something that I ask them to do, which is why I call them Learning tASKs. In order for a do to be true, kids must commit, kids must choose. They must choose to take responsibility for their learning. And so, I try to provide a frame for that home in which they must live–for the entirety of their lives.
.6, yes, that’s 60%. Yes, it’s a D. And, yes, that’s as low as I go. That’s the floor of the learning frame I provide in my room. And if it so happens that by the end, a kid didn’t do, then I will record and report that as a D, for that’s what a D means in my room. Of course, kids and parents will know that on day one, not day forty-five, and from day one, they both will come to understand more clearly its meaning as I engage with them, not in the deficit of not doing to fail, but in the concern of not doing to learn.
If they don’t do, then I can’t help them grow. That will be my constant and consistent messaging to parents, which begins with the letter D, which the will see in Skyward along with the key:
.6 = Invitation to do
And with that, I will end Part One, Doing.
Soon, hopefully tomorrow, I will get to Part Two, REFLECTing.
Hope everyone is well. Good to be back in the blogosphere. Happy Saturday, all.
Hey, all. So excited to share that better the book is finally available!
Two years ago yesterday, I signed on with Code Breaker to turn Project 180 the blog into Project 180 the book, and now–finally–the day has come to share better with the world. Of course, no small part of that world is right here with the people who’ve been on the journey with me since day one (7 years ago). I would not have gotten here without you. Thank you for sticking with me all these years.
What’s next for Project 180? Not entirely sure at the moment, but as we’ve come to know, together, better never ends. It simply bends around the corner, and we give chase. Thank you, again, my friends for keeping me company on the better journey.
Among my most regrettable moments in the classroom (in life) are those in which I reacted, when I should have responded. As one who reflects as a way of being, such replays sting and stick, and I find myself languishing in the regret of the reaction, vowing to do better next time, for there will always be a next time. Response situations are inevitable in the classroom and in life. We work and exist with humans. There will always be behaviors to which we will respond. But, response situations do not need to be reaction situations. I can (of course, not always easily) control my own behavior in answer to another’s. I can respond. I do not have to react. I have a choice. And while the idea of “choosing” makes simple (maybe overly simple) the real struggle we experience when faced with this “choice” in the heat of the moment, it is decidedly not simple. It is hard “human work” not to react. Such toil takes tools.
Recently, on our morning walk and talk, my wife, a middle school art teacher, shared her idea for such a tool to use in the classroom this year.
I found it to be a simply brilliant approach (tool) to the messy human work we find in our classrooms, for it brings the kids into the work of “better.” It forges a partnership with them in hard, but necessary, work of building better connections and community in the classroom.
Response Cards
The What
This is what “Response Cards” will look like in my classroom this year. Nothing fancy. They don’t need to be. They are just a simple tool.
I will hand each of my kiddos an index card to complete, which I will then collect, keep, and consult when necessary (response situations).
The How
This is how we will go about creating the cards. Once I frame the purpose (see below), I will lead the process.
First, we will consider and capture, as a class, the behaviors that help our work and the behaviors that hinder our work. It might look something like this on the whiteboard.
Behaviors That Help
Behaviors That Hinder
* * * * *
* * * * *
Of course, before I start recording on the board, I will have had my kids record their own ideas as individuals, share and compare with an elbow partner, and then, we will begin constructing our class list on the board. I value and put into practice whenever I can the progression from individual to partner to class. That does not mean it’s the only way. It’s simply a way that I have found to be effective.
And while I can only at this point speculate on what my kids may come up with, here are some “hindersome” behaviors I anticipate making the list.
Late to class
Not prepared
Not listening
On phone
Off task
Being disruptive (this could probably be broken down many ways)
Disrespectful
Lack of effort
Sleeping
Anxious, stressed, upset, etc. (I will speak to these below)
The list goes on. And as I suggest above with “disruptive,” there are many general behaviors that can be broken down into specific behaviors. I intend to let the kids lead as I listen and list. Yes, I will give my two cents, but I primarily want the kids to generate the list based on their own ample experiences in the classroom. A note on the last of my list above. I included and will include them on my list when I do this with kids, but I will be careful to frame such things as things that can get in the way of our learning, not as “bad” things. In fact, as I discuss in the frame below, none of these are necessarily bad things; they just aren’t ideal things when it comes to our work. But their enduring presence in the classroom suggests they are real things–human things.
Next, I will ask my kids to reflect on their classroom experiences from the past, and as they do, I will ask them to identify some of the “edges” from those experiences where they have exhibited behaviors that have hindered learning. I will then ask them to consider which behaviors are most likely (based on their self-knowledge) to show up in our work this year. From there, I will ask them to identify (at least) three behaviors to add to their cards.
And then, we will pause to consider and capture, as a class (much as we did with the behaviors above), responses that help the situation and responses that hurt the situation.
Responses That Help
Responses That Hurt
* * * * *
* * * * *
My thinking here is that some of the kids may have a hard time coming up with responses (despite their ample experiences), so by coming together as a class to discuss what works and what doesn’t, we are creating a resource for them to consider as they complete their cards. Perhaps more important than the resource is the discussion that we will have around responses, which was also the case above where earlier we discussed the behaviors. Importantly, the resource is simply a guideline for the kids as they create their own personalized Response Cards. They have to work for them, or they won’t work.
What if they say to “ignore the behavior”? This question popped up in the preview of this post on Twitter. It’s a good question. I anticipate some of my kids will do exactly that. The simple of it? I can’t. It’s a behavior that is hindering our work (learning), and I have to address it. I have to respond to it. And doing nothing (ignoring it) does not help. And let’s be honest for a moment…well, I’ll be honest for a moment. I have that trick in my bag. I have ignored behaviors (too many times). It was easier. But easier is rarely better, and here I am looking to build better. True, I did avoid reacting by ignoring, but also true, I did not help by not responding. In fact, I likely hurt. I can do better. These cards are not only for the kids. They are for me. They are going to help me correct one of my hindersome, human habits–avoidance. I will be honest with my kids about this.
How can I possibly manage so much information with so many kids? This was another good question from the preview. Many of us in the secondary world have one-hundred-plus kids in our days. That’s a lot of kids; that’s a lot of cards. My short answer: don’t. Don’t manage it–at least not all of it at once. It’s unrealistic–and unnecessary–to approach this from a “must-know-all” angle. The cards are a resource. More importantly, they are a mutually and inclusively developed resource. We made them with our kids for our kids–for our classroom community.
As such, the cards are there when we need them. When John’s behavior is telling me something (behavior is communication), I need to listen and respond. And the cards (the anchor) are there for my use. I am not suggesting we run to our desks and consult the cards every time John “speaks” to us. I am suggesting that I bear in mind the resource that will be available to us (John and me) when we continue (ideally, privately) the conversation around a particular response situation.
As I think ahead, in many situations, we won’t need the cards. Most of us have learned how to respond in helpful ways, which for many of our kids will be the responses they list on their cards. We are not trading in our craft for respond-by-the-number cards. We are simply striving to better meet our kids where we find them, and the cards are there to help when we need them. On some level, as with many things in our work, the process (making the cards) is more important than the product (having the cards).
The Frame (The Why)
I believe in frames. When we frame our work in why, we give purpose to our shared pursuits in the classroom. Here’s how I will frame the “Response Cards” for my kids this year.
Our work is human work. And human work is messy. Anytime we bring humans together to work towards a common end, we encounter challenges that will hinder our progress toward that shared end. In here, that end is our learning. Each of us will have the opportunity to grow and learn in the coming days. And each of us, in our own ways, will contribute to the mess with our human habits.
More plainly, in our journey ahead, there will be behaviors that hinder our work, behaviors that I must address. My experiences in the classroom have taught me this. You will inevitably do things that will impact your and others’ opportunities to learn in here. You will be disruptive. You will be on your phones. You will be off task. I know this. You know this. These are the things that happen with humans in the room. Doing such things does not make us bad; they make us human. But when such things get in the way of learning–and they do–they must be addressed. They become the mess I must address. And for that I need your help. For how I address such things determines how we move forward. See, much as your behaviors can help or hinder, my responses can help or hurt. So, I am going to ask you to help me help you–help us–navigate the messy miles ahead.
Here’s how we are going to do it…
The Fit
All that said (which is likely too much), you have to make the Response Cards fit you. I believe in “The Fit” as much as I believe in “The Frame.” And here the “Frame” is really the entire post. This is how I plan to use the Response Cards, not how you should plan to use them. Yes, please, use whatever I have shared, but only use what fits you and your kids–or it won’t work. My wife, the one who came up with the idea, will use the cards differently than I. She and I know that we have to make things our own. What works is what works for us. So, please, make it work for you.
Well, all, hopefully this helps any of you who are considering the cards. I am sorry it ended up being such a long post. Special thanks to my brilliant wife for inspiring my latest better. Happy Monday.
Been wonderin’ on “why,” again. And, again, as with many of my wonders, it began as a tweet.
Yes, I was playing with words, but I wasn’t playing. It is how I think of learning. It is how I think of learners. And I think about it, a lot. It is my trying to make meaning of my own work, my own learning. I suppose some on Twitter regarded it as a cute platitude (something to get likes). But, I was neither trying to be cute nor trying to get likes. I was trying to “Do Better” out loud, for when I do things out loud (make public my reflections), I find myself compelled to do and share better. And, here, that meant reflecting about the idea of making meaning.
How do we make meaning?
This next tweet followed shortly after.
Why
Of course, I have tried “why” before. During the distance-learning phase of the pandemic, I wondered and worried about the why in our work, about the kids’ finding importance and relevance. So, I gave “Why, Sy?” a shot for some time, which was basically a brief daily video via Screencastify in which I tried to offer an earnest answer to why we were doing what we were doing. You can read more about it here.
And though I thought it was the “better” break I was looking for, it fizzled and faded, and I got nowhere near the 180 days I had planned with “Why, Sy?”
Why? Well, it felt a bit forced and artificial. It was on me alone to supply the why, and more often than not, it just felt like teacher talk. It did not feel authentic, and that won’t do in the 180 classroom. So, consequently, my new-found try with why never really got off the ground. This wasn’t the better I was looking for after all. I would have to keep chasing the next better around the bend. Had to. “Why” wasn’t going anywhere.
“Why do I have to learn this?” Kids (in various ways) have asked this question forever. We certainly asked it when we were on the other side of the room. And we, as certainly, struggled with the answers, often finding little satisfaction and even less meaning in many of the responses we were given. We have a need to know why. It’s how me make sense, how we make meaning. And so, in our work, if we want our learners learning, they have to make meaning. So, then, how do we fill the experience with more meaning? How do we respond to the need to know why? I believe we have to pair “I” with “Why.” As I recently suggested in “Plan Me,” kids have to find themselves in the work to make meaning. So, then, my task, I believe, is to help them find themselves. Thus, my next try with why: “Why do I?”
Why Do I?
As presented in the tweet above, why will begin with “We” and end with “I.” For everything we do in class this year, we will begin with the question, “Why do we need…?” It will look something like this.
Why do we need to connect as a community?
Why do we need to read?
Why do we need to state and support themes?
Why do we need to write in complete sentences?
From there, using the document below, we will consider and capture ideas together as a class. I plan to facilitate this much in the same way as I do our Daily Discussion (Individual>Partner>Class). I anticipate it taking roughly 5 minutes.
“Need,” I think, is key here, for if something’s a need, it’s necessary. This will challenge me to be even more thoughtful about the work I am putting in front of my kids. And more, it will challenge the kids( once we get to the “Why do I need to…?) part of the process, to really consider what their needs are in the context of their own past, present, and future journeys through the human learning experience.
“I don’t need to _____________.” As I stated above, I do expect and will accept “don’t.” But I will also expect at least one more why. Why don’t you need to? Importantly, this is not a control lever. It’s a support step. It’s one more step towards helping my kids find themselves in the work, one more step towards pairing “I” and “Why.”
I am still playing around a bit with the form and ultimately how I will use it, but, for now, this is my plan. The function will remain (I + Why), regardless the form.
I am eager to dive more deeply into “why work” with my kids. I hope it helps them discover “Why” through “I,” which will hopefully help make each experience more meaningful.
Unfortunately, in education, we tend to make success about winning or losing instead of learning and growing. The kids know this. They live this. They live the labels we give them. And though we try to blur the lines with eduspeak, the kids translate their experiences into the simple language of winner or loser.
They look to the score or the grade first (often only) as a sign of success (or failure). We thought, I think, that if we presented rubrics (in the most general sense of the term for our purposes here), then we might change how they viewed their place and themselves. If we provided descriptive level language, they would better understand (maybe accept) our judgment. Seemed like a good idea with good intention. But, in the end, I am not sure our good idea (or intention) did much to change the game for our kids, especially when it came to grading (winning or losing).
In short, we sort. We sort kids. And as I think about my past experiences with rubrics (again, in the most general sense of the term), I find that really they were more about (justifying) sorting than supporting. So, I broke up with rubrics.
As my journey has taken me farther away from grading and deeper into learning, I have had to rethink how I support, for I no longer sort. As such, I no longer rely on rubrics; I offer simple criteria, for the simple–purer–purpose of supporting learning.
SSC (Simple Success Criteria)
What do I need you to do?
Really, I believe, our work with kids begins as simply as this. So, I make it as simple as possible by listing out the criteria for success, which I will then use as an entry point into the primary purpose of our work: the Feedback/Response Process. It is here where my work really begins, where I become a teacher, a supporter.
But, I think it’s important to establish what I mean by “success.” In the sorting classroom, I would be compelled to sort in terms of winning (meeting the criteria) or losing (not meeting the criteria). And, in this context, the rubric readily lends itself to this end, typically in four-point fashion (iterated in various, often eduspeak ways). In short, too often with the “sort,” kids win or become “leveled-losers.” To be fair, I know that some use “rubrics” with better intentions and greater success (if feedback and opportunity are present), but more often–sadly–success is a sorting game. Grading.
In the supporting classroom, I am compelled to support kids–wherever I find them. And from there, we engage for the sole purpose of growth, which I believe is the measure of success in the supporting classroom. Whether I find them above, at, or below the expectations presented in the criteria, I meet them and together, engaged in the Feedback/Response Process (FRP), we learn forward. Success is growth (I write about it here in “Met, Not Yet.“). Learning.
Here’s an example of what Simple Success Criteria might look like in my room. The form is always evolving, but the function remains: What do I need you to do?
This is what my grade-level team and I use for “Claim, Cite, Clarify.” The SSC are on the left. On the right, at least for this particular Learning Check, we have provided an example, which we tend to do early in the learning experience. It gives kids a guide. It also gives us an anchor for feedback.
Of course, there are a million different ways one can present SSC to kids, but the key, I believe, is to keep it simple, to show kids what you need them to do with the particular learning experience, which has only just begun. The real experience, the real work, begins in the Feedback/Response Process. Support.
FRP (Feedback/Response Process)
Everything leads to here. This is where I meet kids, and it is from here that we work together towards growth (success). As you saw in “Met, Not Yet,” I determine where kids are when I meet them. Simply, they have or they have not (yet) met the expectations presented in the criteria. If they have met, then I have the opportunity (responsibility) to help them move (grow) beyond the standard(s). If they have not yet met, then I have the opportunity (responsibility) to help them move (grow) forward toward the standard(s), which I discuss in “Met, Not Yet.” So, I will not repeat the process I use here.
Are Rubrics Bad?
No, that’s not my stance. As I suggested earlier, I think some can and do use them to effect (if feedback and next steps are part of the package). However, I think they can be used badly (sorting/grading), but SSC can be used for the same “bad” purpose, too. So, then, it really comes down to purpose, which I believe should be–solely and simply–supporting learning. In a word: growing.
In my work I try to steer clear of the good/bad binary. Instead, I focus on the singular: better, which I have embraced as the guide on my journey to help me create better learning experiences for my kids. There’s always better.
No good. No bad. Only better. Rubrics weren’t doing it for me, so I sought better, which at present has taken form as SSC (a necessary step to FRP). And with these two steps in front of the work, I find myself supporting learning better than ever, for my kids are growing.
