If you’re not feeling a little anxiety about your project, then you are not challenging yourself.

Yesterday, as I introduced our third independent learning project, I threw a wrench in the works, challenging my kids to step out of their comfort zones, asking them to confront one of their fixed mindsets this time around. And though there was some initial groaning and whining, it gradually subsided as kids began to ponder the possibilities.  Of course, as always, I put myself out there first, sharing that I would be stepping way out of my comfort zone by attempting to draw my grandpa’s barn, a direct challenge to my “I-can’t-draw” mindset.  In fact, this time, instead of posing a question to guide our work, we have to make “I-can” statements, which will become our individual guiding mantras as we progress through the stages of our doubt and discomfort with these projects. So, then, my mantra will be, “I can draw my grandpa’s barn.”  And believe me, I will have to chant that over and over again this month as I fight off the little voice perched on my left shoulder telling me that I can’t.

Of course, as I somewhat expected, the kids still are reluctant to trust that I am giving them the freedom to make their own big-girl and big-boy choices.  Yes, I have placed a requirement, a limit in the form of challenging a fixed mindset, but they still have a great deal of independence with their projects. Even so, they–understandably, I guess–still seek my approval.  I get it.  They have been trained to seek approval and it is sometimes harder to unlearn than learn, so I humor them and help them.  Kind of.  For the past two projects, my response to their “is-my-project-okay” inquiries has been, “Are you genuinely interested in your topic?” This time it is, “Are you feeling any anxiety about your choice?”  Both require “yes” answers.  Both require that they alone make the decision.  I cannot neither tell them they are interested nor can I tell them they are anxious.  They, as I say, are the guards at that gate.  I tell them, too, that they could completely BS me, but really in the end, they are only BS-ing themselves.  It is my letting go.  It is my helping them discover that anything authentic in our lives can really only be determined by us, for we alone can only know if something is true. We are behind our own wheels, driving to our own destinations, and our learning, our education is no exception.  I hope my kids are beginning to believe that. Truly they are the guards at their gates.

Have a splendid Tuesday, all.  Please check out the Monthly Topic if you have not had a chance yet (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=356).  Even better, join the conversation by leaving a comment.

So, among seemingly a million other things soon to be going on in room 219, we are beginning a project today for which the kids must select a moment of injustice–past or present–that truly matters to them. Some have selected injustices on a smaller, more personal scale.  Others have selected injustices on a grander, more global scale.  Most have settled somewhere in between. This is the simpler part of the project.  The work is to follow as they prepare speeches in response to the injustice.  The real work will then come when they have to muster the courage to deliver their speeches. Yes, the dreaded public-speaking experience, the number one fear among many.  And while I would like to help my students avoid such anxiety, such fear, I know in the end, it is a necessary step in their development.  Thus, here, I will seek to play the growth-mindset card, hoping to draw my kids out of their comfort zones, helping them grow.  And though it will be no easy task for any of us, I believe in the end, it will be a worthwhile endeavor, and some–perhaps distant–day in the future, they will thank me for helping them face their fears.

But before we get too carried away and place the cart too far in front of the horse, we have a lot of work to do before the factor of fear comes into play.  Here is their general task description.

1. Select an injustice (some wrong that needs to be righted) that truly matters to you.  It may be past or present, big or small.
2. Identify, research, and explain the occasion or context of the injustice, including when and where you are delivering the speech.
3. Determine the purpose(s) from the Big-Six Purposes that you are seeking to achieve (Inform and Explain, Inquire and Explore, Express and Reflect, Evaluate and Judge, Analyze and Interpret, Take a Stand/Propose a Solution).
4. Identify who you are as the speaker.
5. Identify your target audience.
6. Determine tone(s) that you wish to convey.
7. Consider and include appropriate rhetorical appeals (ethos, pathos, logos).
8. Begin and progress through the writing process.
9. Practice and prepare for speech.

We will spend a number of days working on this in class over the next several weeks. My hope is that by the time we get to the end the kids have gained some confidence and are less fearful of the delivery.  In addition to all of this, we also have to get to a performance-task argument for injustice, begin a Holocaust unit by reading Night, and navigate through the world of complex sentences.  This month.  We will be busy.  Oh, and the kids will get their task instructions for the next independent learning project as well. Busy, indeed.

Happy Monday, all.  If you have not had a chance to check out the Monthly Topic, here is the link (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=356).  Please join the conversation.  Your words matter.

For the most part, teachers are barely qualified to make autonomous decisions about grading practices.

This month’s topic may prove to be a little touchy for some, for it seeks to expose a truth in public education that some would rather not talk about, but it may very well be one of the most important topics to confront if we are ever to bring about any significant change. This month I want to talk about grading practices.

Let’s begin with a dose of truth. Nearly universally, teachers’ grading practices are determined by each classroom teacher individually. They alone make the decisions for their respective grading practices. Those decisions include a wide range of considerations. Here are a few, in no particular order.

1.  Total points for grading period.
2. Points and weight of assignments, quizzes, tests, etc.
3. Factors that determine grade, including but not limited to, attendance, behavior, participation, effort, achievement, extra credit, etc.
4. Late/missing work policies.
5. Make-up-for-absence policies.
6. Retake, redo, resubmit policies.
7. Type and design of assessments.

There are other considerations, and of course, this will vary by teacher and exceptions will abound, but that is the point, the truth that I wish to reveal. All of the above are valid, important considerations for teachers determining how to report progress in the classroom, considerations that will have a significant, often long-term impact on students as they make their way through the system. The considerations themselves aren’t really the problem. No, to be sure, it’s how they are considered that presents a problem. And this is where this topic may get a little sticky.

I am at the midpoint of my twentieth year as a teacher in the public education realm. In those soon-to-be twenty years, not one person in charge has ever inquired about my grading practices. No checks. No balances. There is nothing in the teacher evaluation process that calls my practice into question. Nor is there anything in my union contract that speaks to it. I have had supreme autonomy with my grading practices. Some call it “academic freedom,” and while that sounds appealing, even democratic, it has created an institution full of practitioners whose awesome autonomous powers go unchecked for the length of their careers. So what? They are professionals. They are teachers. They always have kids’ best interests in mind. They know what they are doing. Hmmm. I am not so sure. Time for the sticky part. Sorry if the truth upsets. At worst, I will offend some. At best, I will start a let’s-get-real-and-honest conversation about this important topic.

For the most part, teachers are barely qualified to make autonomous decisions about grading practices. Most of us take only one 3-credit course on assessment in college, out of the context of a classroom, a mostly theoretical, not practical experience. We are then placed in the classroom for student teaching, where we conform to a master teacher’s philosophy and practice for a brief period of time, and we are finally thrust into our own classrooms where we must devise our own practices–ready or not, adopting out of necessity an approach that generally reflects above all how we were graded as students ourselves. Yep, that’s the basic formula. In the end, teachers essentially end up grading how they were graded, having barely more training than anyone else who has gone through our K-12 educational system.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that teachers are not adequately trained in their content areas or experts in their particular fields. To be sure, what I am suggesting is that we are neither adequately trained nor experts in the area of grading. And that is truth, but I don’t blame teachers for the lack of training we receive; we are simply products of the system, a system that has not changed for who knows how long, perpetuating a cycle of practitioners, who, for a lack of a better way to say it, don’t really know what we are doing when it comes to grading.

Now, before I get too carried away with this line of thinking, to be fair, there are many teachers who work very hard–despite a deficit in their preparation–to develop and maintain a system of grading that is fair and makes sense, an ongoing struggle to reflect and refine their approaches in an effort to do right by kids. But there, too, are many who do not make such an effort, and as a result, kids suffer. Please know that we who make the effort make no claim that we have it figured out. In point of fact, it’s generally because we’re worried that we don’t have it figured out that we make constant, we-have-really-thought-about-this changes to our practice. It is not this group of practitioners who worries me. It’s the ones who present their practices as utterly valid, reliable, infallible approaches to grading, standing rigid, often unwilling to bend for students or parents.

And herein lies the great tragedy when it comes to grading practices in public education; we sell our practice to the public under the pretense of validity, reliability, and infallibility, a practice with checks and balances. Well, I have news. It’s all a lie, and the public needs to quit buying it. For any student or parent who has fallen victim to a teacher’s rigid righteousness when it comes to a conflict with a grade, it’s time to call us out; it’s time to ask questions. Why shouldn’t you? After all, it is you we serve. Ask questions. Demand answers. Don’t let the facade frighten you. Let this knowledge empower you to join the conversation and change education.

I’m sure by now I have irreparably upset some colleagues in my profession. If that is the case, then I am sorry, for that is certainly not my intent. I just think we have to get real about our profession and the institution of public education. And I think it starts here, for grades generally seem to be–on one level or another–the focal point of our interface with the public, and if they are being misled regarding the reality and truth of grading practices, then that has to change. I apologize if that creates conflict or dissonance, but I believe that the path to harmony, true harmony, requires some discord.

So, stakeholders, it’s your turn. The system is not likely to change significantly any time soon, but in the meantime, maybe we can move the needle a little by getting teachers, all teachers to present grading practices and policies that make sense not only to them but their customers as well. I think, then, that means that we all have to have conversations–asking questions, seeking answers.

So, to that end, whether you are a teacher, a student, parent, or member of the public, when you think of grading practices in public education what approach would make the most sense to you? How could we better approach grading in a way that makes greater sense to all. You don’t have to be an expert on grading. Truly. You just need to have been affected by grades in the public school system. That’s a pretty inclusive invite. Please join the conversation. Your words matter.

Thanks for the opportunity to learn things from these projects that we otherwise never would have known!

Amarise, Sophomore, Cheney High School

Today we will wrap up presentations for this round of learning projects, moving on to the next round, where kids will have to choose an out-of-comfort-zone, a challenge-to-a-fixed-mind-set approach for their new projects.  Of course, I expect to meet some initial resistance, but I was met with the same resistance when we first started these projects.  And the presence of resistance will not be limited to my kids, for I, too, don’t always embrace the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone.  This time I am going to challenge one of my major fixed mindsets: art.  I, with instruction from my wife the art teacher, will attempt to draw, using a photo as a guide, my grandpa’s old barn, which was torn down nearly 40 years ago.  Truly, it will be a challenge, and I will no doubt have a hard time ignoring  the fixed mindset perched on my shoulder telling me that I cannot draw, that I cannot do art.  But I am determined to prevail.  I can get better at anything that I put my mind to.  And though I can still hear whispers of doubt, I am beginning to believe it.

For two rounds of projects, I have been so pleased and proud of what my kids have produced, of what they have taught us.  I hope to be even more impressed this time as they step out of their comfort zones and stretch themselves.  And maybe, by year’s end, they will have stretched themselves into greater growth mindsets, ready to conquer the world.  And that is what I really hope.   I will like it if they leave better writers.  I will love it if they leave better learners.

I am here to defend the Monthly Topic! I want it to stay! I’ve never commented on any of your posts about it, but it is really something I’ve been pondering very deeply over the course of last month. I have to admit, it is not an easy topic for me, and after a whole month of thinking (almost every single day) about what motivates me, I have to admit that I still do not know entirely. I actually may be even more lost about myself than I was before. But that’s a good thing. That’s the point of a month-long pondering topic. I have a lot more to say, but I’ll probably just save that for a future essay for your class. Anyhow, please continue to do the Monthly Topics. I know what it’s like to not feel like people are noticing, but rest assured — people see. And it really is a good thing.

~Kiersten Gasper, Sophomore, Cheney High School

Dang kids.  Always meddlin’ with my plans!  First, they rope me into doing the independent learning projects with them. Then, yesterday, they cajoled me into writing an injustice speech along with them, and now, today, Kiersten is not going to let me abandon the Monthly Topic.  I’m beginning to wonder who’s really in charge in 219.

For those who don’t know, Kiersten was responding to my “Change in Course” post (http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=327), where I revealed that I would no longer be presenting a Monthly Topic because I was uncertain that it was having the desired impact; people just weren’t chiming in.  But of course, Kiersten flipped that upside down with her persuasive plea.  How can I not heed her words?  I mean come on,

“…it is really something I’ve been pondering very deeply over the course of last month. I have to admit, it is not an easy topic for me, and after a whole month of thinking (almost every single day) about what motivates me, I have to admit that I still do not know entirely. I actually may be even more lost about myself than I was before. But that’s a good thing. That’s the point of a month-long pondering topic. I have a lot more to say, but I’ll probably just save that for a future essay for your class.”

Really?  Girl knows what buttons to push.  Fine, Kiersten!  Have it your way.  I guess if it’s something that you are going to ponder very deeply for a month, I can find the strength to present a new topic as the calendar turns.  It will be on your desk by Monday.  Kids.

Happy Thursday, all.

I’ve oft thought that it would be cool to have a live feed into my classroom, a live video stream into 219, where parents and public could tune in and watch at least one episode, among thousands, of public education–live, in the moment.  On one hand, it would provide authentic accountability for me, letting those I serve observe if I am making good on their investment.  Yes, pressure, taking my always-open-door policy to a new level, but welcome pressure–at least for me.  I believe teachers, just as kids, perform better when they are held to “somebody-truly-cares,” high expectations, a combination that I believe leads to genuine motivation.  High expectations must reflect a  high standard of care.  I know that high expectations matter little to kids if they don’t believe we care.  I think teachers are no different.  And because I think there are times that we doubt that our public really cares, we don’t always rise to the occasion, and we often dwell in mediocrity.  Please don’t mistake what I am saying.  Most teachers work really hard, going above and beyond, and much of the public does care, but because of some barriers that exist, I think there are times when this gets lost in translation, and we feel forgotten.  A look inside–the live feed–could possibly break down some of those barriers.

Additionally, on the other hand, it would provide greater visibility for those we serve.  They could see–right now–what is going on in public education.  They could see both the successes and challenges that students and teachers alike experience on a minute-to-minute basis in America’s classrooms, which I believe would then lead to two key ingredients to communicating the care necessary to propel us to consistently meet higher expectations in the classroom, a recipe for authentic accountability.  The first ingredient is interest.  Teachers, as with anyone, feel like others care when they take genuine interest in what we’re doing, when they see our dreams, our struggles, and our successes.  Sadly, and it’s not really anyone’s fault, there is no practical way for this to happen, and that’s too bad, for a teacher’s journey can be lonely; we need support.  And that is the second key ingredient, but it can only be added to the batch if the first ingredient is already there.  So how do we secure the first ingredient?  How do we get all to take a genuine interest in the journey of public education?  How do we change the narrative from the majority of concern being focused on standardized-test scores and grades to more concern being focused on the need for public education to finally evolve and better meet the demands of a changed and changing world?  No simple answer I’m afraid.  But I am willing to do different.  I am willing to wire my classroom, to let the public in, let them follow my journey–an opportunity for interest, an opportunity for support. Truly.  If someone knows of a way that I can secure the means to make this a reality, please contact me, and we will get to work.  Maybe I need to write Bill Gates a letter.  Maybe.  Until then, the best I can do is open my door even more and offer a standing invitation to any and all to visit room 219.  Join my journey.

Wow.  Didn’t intend to go there this morning.  Sorry.  All I really wanted to do was send a “wish-you-were-here” message out to all, for the students’ projects and presentations have been remarkable this week.  Truly magical moments, and though I am sharing another link of another awesome movie, it’s not the same if you aren’t in 219.  Door’s open.  Always.

A note on the link.  It’s about bullying and there are some offensive terms, so watch with caution.  Kasia had my permission to include  the terms; they are not gratuitous; they are necessary for they reflect a reality…well, part of a reality. Sadly, the full reality is far worse.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPa_kz6QJKM

Have a great Wednesday, all.

Yesterday in 219 kids began presenting their projects for round 2 of the independent learning projects.  Each month my kids are challenged to pursue an independent path of learning, following very simple criteria:

1. Choose a topic of genuine interest.
2. Pose a question.
3. Search for an answer.
4. Create a product that demonstrates learning.
5. Share learning with the class.

Below are a few examples of some of my students’ pursuits.  I am so proud of their work, work that i had nothing to do with.  Last week,  after a sneak, preview peak of some of the products that my students created (one of them Meghan’s movie below), a parent contacted me, applauding my efforts, commenting that she was pleased to see that I was “still working [my] magic and moving kids to do great things!”  I thanked her for the kind words, but informed her that the only thing I had done was give students the opportunity to discover their own magic.  Yesterday, they shared their magic.  I cannot wait to see what tricks they perform today.

Have a great Tuesday, all.  If you didn’t see it last night, here’s a link to a post outlining some changes to the blog  http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=327 .

Parting Questions

1. For all, when you reflect on your experiences in school, what was a project you loved or hated? Why?
2. For teachers, when you reflect on the projects that your students have done in the past, what do you consider the marks of a successful project?  An unsuccessful project?

Thank you for joining the conversation.  Your words matter.

Well, this marks a month of officially being in the blogosphere, and while I feel like I’ve made some  progress towards some unknown end in this crazy, let’s-change-education journey I’ve embarked on, I have literally years to go, and as such, I will not always know what new paths I will encounter or where they will take me.  As I started out a month ago, I assumed I had mapped out a route that would be full of others joining me in conversation, but my assumptions were misguided, as few have actually joined the conversation. And I don’t know why.  I think I thought that if I posed a question others would simply jump at the chance to share their views on education, and together we would speed along to our destination of bringing about significant change. Silly Syrie. Obviously, now a month in, I’ve realized that perhaps I set off in the wrong direction.  So, time for a change of course, a new direction.

To date, the site has had 8,485 views, which I hope is a good sign, but I have no frame of reference in this regard.  There have been 176 comments, but half of them were from my students, so I don’t know what that really means.  Regardless, I am pleased overall, and I am very thankful for the support that folks have shown in these first few steps of my journey, but I am a little concerned about sustainability as I trek forth, so I am going to try something new.

For starters, I’ve decided to abandon the “Monthly Topic,” where I pose both a general question for all and then a specific question for each of the stakeholders: teachers, students, parents and public.  This first month out, I chose motivation as the topic for discussion, but little happened with it, and many of the comments (student comments) may have simply been what any of us would have anticipated anyway.  So maybe, then, I asked the wrong question, and folks were neither inspired nor motivated to chime in.  Not sure. Maybe, too, asking the question at the beginning of the month and just leaving it sitting there was not the best choice, creating an outta-sight, outta-mind effect. Whatever, the reasons behind the limited participation, I have decided to change to the “Weekly Wonder” in hope that this may be a better approach, keeping the topics fresher.  As many know, I have actually already headed in that direction, and I will follow that path for a while, seeing where it leads.  The “Weekly Wonder” will resume next week.  To be honest, with the new semester starting this week, it will be struggle enough just to get the “Morning Minutes” done.  Feeling a little less than Super at the moment, even with the shirt on.

One other change that is already in place (see this morning’s post http://www.letschangeeducation.com/?p=325) is the addition of “Today’s Parting Questions” posed at the end of the “Morning Minutes.”  My hope here is that these questions will not only be relevant to the day’s post but also not require too much time or thought for folks to spend their two cents and post a comment.  We’ll see how it goes.  My “Do-Learn-Do Better” mantra seems appropriate here as I seek to make this shared journey better for all. Other changes to come, but for now, a hearty thanks to those who have joined me along the way.  I hope I can find ways to keep you interested.  I kinda need ya.  Can’t do this alone.  

What if I’m wrong? This is a recurring thought for me during the grading process, a thought that worries and haunts me, sometimes for days and weeks after the process is over.  For those who are not teachers, this may seem a strange admission, but for those of us who are teachers, teachers who are reflective about our practice, we know all too well the worry of our judgment on student work. You see, grading is not exactly an objective process; in fact, much of it is subjective, left to the professional judgment of the teacher, especially in my area–language arts.  And while we try to make it less subjective through the use of criteria-based rubrics and scoring guides, we never really arrive at a place where we can make the process purely objective.  Consequently, in the end, it is what it is, and we simply strive to make it if not objective, then at least clear.  Even so, subjectivity still persists, allowing for error, creating some doubt.  

Granted, there are some subjects where less subjectivity is more easily achieved, such as math, but even math is not entirely immune to the subjective judgment of the teacher, for any time partial points or credit is given, the possibility of error exists, and teachers may inadvertently punish kids on the basis of their interpretation.  Now to be fair, in many cases our interpretation may have a positive impact on students’ grades, but then this, too, calls into question whether we follow the same standard for all kids in all situations.  If I like Jimmy a little more than I like Susie, might I not award more points to Jimmy?  Is it possible that I might do it and not even know it? The truth is, I don’t know.  I am certainly not above human shortcomings and failings, and in the end, I may be human and unconsciously award or punish kids unwittingly, unfairly.  And this is what worries me.  And though it may end up being a wash in the end, the odds eventually evening out, I find it unsettling.  So, this is what I’ve done about it.

Every semester, at the end, I add a grade to the grade book that I’ve come to call “the fairness factor.”  Essentially, I give each kid five points. That may not sound like much, but for many it makes the difference between a B- and a B, which could impact their getting accepted to college, their getting a scholarship, or their getting a discount on their auto insurance.  Five points can make, for some, a huge difference.  In fact, I am still surprised as I watch each score go up every time I input the five points.  I witness the difference.  Of course, each semester, I communicate the purpose of the fairness-factor grade to the kids, and they just think I am being nice, but I quickly correct them and tell them it’s not about being nice; it’s about being fair.  I think it’s about taking an honest look at one’s grading practices and recognizing the possibility of a margin of error and then erring on the side of the students’ best interests.  Could the margin be greater than five?  Maybe.  But as I reflect on my practice, my professional judgment, I have to be fair to myself, too, for who knows I might be right.

Today’s Parting Questions

1. Teachers, how do you account for the subjectivity in your grading?
2. Students and parents, have you inquired about how your teachers account for subjectivity in their grading practices?

Happy Monday, all.  Hard to believe a month has already gone by since I launched on January 1.  Thank you for the support.  Look for some changes.  I will send a post this evening, highlighting some course corrections as we enter month two of our journey.

Of course, as it goes, my kids had to wait till the very last day of the semester to be their most attentive–all eyes forward, pin-drop silent, truly in tune with what was before them. And, of course, as it goes, it was not I who was on stage. Nope, I was upstaged. By Disney. For an hour and a half I was the forgotten star, cast aside for a story far more interesting than The Saga of the Sentence and the Phantom Phrases. Yep, a new kid was in town. Lilo and Stitch assumed center stage. And it’s tough to compete with a cute little girl who befriends a little blue alien. I didn’t even try. I’ve learned to acknowledge and accept when I’m whooped. I let Lilo and Stitch have the stage. I kinda had to anyway. I made a promise.

Weeks back, in a moment of weakness, I promised that at the end of the semester we could watch a movie just for fun. And though they seem to forget most of what I say, they certainly did not forget this, so I had to honor my word. We would watch a movie on the last day, possible because of the finals schedule, which created hour-and-a-half alternating periods over two days, perfect length for a Disney feature. Thus, stage then open for a movie, the kids selected Lilo and Stitch.

Of course, this decision was not completely made only in the interest of the kids; I had another motive. In the end they won fun, but I gained survival. I found time, time to climb the mountains of two days worth of finals. So, then, the stage was set. Fun for kids, time for teacher.

Settled in, we engaged in our separate activities. They watched. I graded. Well, for the most part. They did their part, but I deviated from the plan. I couldn’t help it. I got distracted, got lost. In a moment. In a visceral moment I got caught up in the “kid in the room,” a collective mass of enchanted minds lost in the wonder of fun, the peace of joy. I was struck. I was struck starkly with the reminder that for as much as we, as I, demand from them, they’re just kids after all. And as they move headlong into a world not always fun or joyful, we need to remember that and give them permission to just be kids.

Happy Friday, all. Thanks for the support. Can’t do it without you.