Posts (page 2)

Let me type for you a flyer floating around the high school that I intercepted yesterday.  I think it’s very telling of the difference between HSHS and PCHS.  This is verbatim, even caps:

Dear Potts Camp student body.
We the class of 2010-2011 will like to saw we love attending POTTS CAMP and we truly love to attend POTTS CAMP again.  But we just cant take the pressure there’s entirely to much DRAMA going on to many RUMORS going around We love being a 4.7 but everything going on in this school we’re acting like a 1.7 (HOLLY HIGH) in we don’t want to be on there level.  So next time you want to saw well (WELL I HEARD, or MANE SHE/HE, or :ET ME TELL YOU GIRL) just think before you let that mouth run

P.S In for the record no on is GAY at POTTS CAMP.
Love,
2011-2011

This letter/flyer inspires so many reactions in me.  I love being at a school in which students enjoy being there.  I’ve noticed this from day one.  I’m proud that the students have stepped up to confront a problem that they find in their school.  I’m proud that the students are trying to handle this problem in a mature way.

Most of all, though, I’m surprised at how quickly anyone in Marshall County points to Holly Springs as the bottom of the barrel.  No wonder my HS students didn’t have any pride in their school—everyone is saying that they shouldn’t.  That Holly High is not the place to be.  That students at Holly High are on a lower level (the state agrees).  These words are hurtful and contribute to the morale problem at HSHS. 

At the same time, there is a reason HS's reputation started, and this flyer represents the different school cultures.  Students at Potts Camp keep each other and themselves in check because they like the school and they want to make it a good place to be.  I hope I’m not raising my own expectations of PCHS too high only to be disappointed later.  Whatevs.  I’m sure the blog will eventually answer that question.

 And, as a sidenote, I think it's important that people in Marshall County know that Holly Springs is making it's way "up a level."  That HS has had a string of bad leaders, and they finally have a principal now who is serious about change and discipline and improving the school.  Good things are going to come.  I know I've been the first to write hopeless things about that school on my blog, but I don't want Marshall County to lose hope for Holly Springs.

(Molly, I have a copy of the flyer for you.)

I think my biggest area of improvement is in being able to see each day’s lesson in part of a larger context.  By nature, I am extremely detail-oriented and I have a hard time focusing on general trends because I get caught up in all so many mini-patterns on the small scale.  Last year, I planned my lessons individually—each one with a set, lesson, GP, IP, and closure—and they were pretty good on their own.  But, my kids didn’t learn as much as they could have because there wasn’t a sense of continuity.  We weren’t checking homework from the last day or pausing to remediate.  I went from lesson to lesson, and didn’t really give my kids effective check-points (a big-picture skill).  This year, I have days devoted to checking work, making test corrections, and breathing back in the lessons from a week or so ago.

I think I’ve been improving on this because I’ve learned to step back and look at what’s actually going on in my classroom, instead of focusing just on what performance I’m putting on or what I’m supposed to be monitoring in the room.  I think, too, I’ve been improving because the students at Potts Camp actually work when I assign work.  It was necessary to commit so much energy to classroom management at HS that I was thankful if they were quiet—I didn’t care all too much if they actually learned.  I considered the day a success if they settled down and pretended to work.

Also, I had a conversation over the summer with Ms Goldwasser and Mr Guest about expectations for a lesson.  Ben (I hope I’m paraphrasing right) pretty much said that he doesn’t go into the classroom with any expectations for the lesson— that expectations aren’t helpful.  As long as the students are working and learning, they are making their ways toward the larger goal (whether that is higher test scores or hitting the state frameworks).  That viewpoint resonated with me, and I’m trying to incorporate it more this year.  I’m not as worried about planning Madeline Hunter’s perfect lesson as I am about whether the students are learning something.  I feel freer to plan lessons that benefit the students instead of lessons that look good on paper and “should” provide mastery of an objective.

The first days of school last year: I dreaded every period except first period and my planning period every day.

The first days of school this year: I don’t mind going to school.  I enjoy being in the classroom once I’m there.  I love the act of teaching.

These first few days of school are amazingly better than those of last year.  My students are well behaved, my classes are small, and the school is organized.  I really don’t know what else to say other than Potts Camp is an extremely well run school with very competent and dedicated teachers.  Everything about these first few days has been smooth, enjoyable, casual, respectful, and, yes, even loving.  The teachers genuinely love the students, and the students respect and open up to the teachers.  When I was interviewed for the position, they told me that it was a family atmosphere.  I figured it was a family atmosphere the same way Holly Springs is a “level 5 by 2009” or whatever the bogus slogan was.  But it really is.  Students legitimately want to do right by the teacher and each other: “Naw man, give it back, it’s her pen.”  “Ms Dole, where do you want us to write our names on this paper?”  “Do you want the workbooks on the second or third shelf?”  “oh, here, I almost walked out with your pencil.”
  
I am so happy there.  Students are still behind grade level, which reassures me that I’m still in a public school in Mississippi, but there’s such a positivity at Potts Camp.  I don’t know what else to say.  I love my kids, I love having small classes.  Students do the work I ask them to do.  I teach, not babysit, every period.  That’s a huge change from last year.  I’ve been convinced that I won’t teach after this year, but I’m only a week in and I love all of my (only 98!!) kids.
  
The best part of my job is my Trigonometry/PreCalculus class.  These kids can think, so I finally have the opportunity to do challenging questions.  I love working with them so much.  They can follow logic and hate not understanding something.  They have such potential.  I can’t wait to push them even harder.

I don’t think I have much advice that hasn’t been said before, but, well, let me blog.  I could write a story or paragraph about each bullet point here, but I'm not feeling it.  It's a lot to type.  Call me if you are interested. Or if you are bored.  Or if you are interested in being bored. 

Essentials for Basic Survival
1) Don’t work too much
        (ie absolutely no more than a total of 3 hours outside of school per day, aim for 1-1.5).
2) Sleep.
3) EAT.  Eat well and eat often.
4) Find something you enjoy doing after school
        (running, walking, talking to a neighbor, painting, baking, writing, yodeling, whatever)

Advice for the Living
5) Don't be forgiving of misbehavior because students aren't used to your rules yet.  They know your rules.  If they             forgot, the consequences will cement the rule in their minds.
6) Don’t reinvent the wheel.  Your time is in very limited supply, so don’t waste it.  Find resources you can print off or         photocopy or "steal" from other teachers.
7) Make and find shortcuts—streamlined systems, easy grading.  Don’t grade everything you assign.

Pointers for Efficiency
8) Use your activities well. Have students check their homework and review/correct tests.
9) Go at the pace of your students.  Too fast or too slow causes problems.  They will let you know.
10) Show interest in your students without losing your classroom management. Greet them outside of class, be                 receptive to their hobbies and stories. Some of them can be annoying or frustrating or clingy or bratty, but they             will respect you more if they sense that you care about them.  And, face it, you do.

I decided to stop teaching Geometry on April 4th.  Starting April 5th, my students did review worksheets, watched movies, worked on projects (supposed to be learning experiences), or took meaningless, repetitive notes.  The first question in my mind while planning for periods 5-7 became “How am I going to keep them quiet and away from me?” instead of “What should they learn?” or “How can I most effectively teach this?”  I became the babysitter teacher.

Here’s a journal entry (copied, pasted, and bleeped) from April 4th about my Geometry students.  FYI, my district policy is a mandatory 80% pass rate on tests, and my Geometry classes had 28+ students in each:

They don’t work.  They don’t care.  They copy other people’s work.  They don’t study.  If I force them to do their own work, they don’t think on their own so I get driven completely f**king nuts doing and explaining everything.  If I let them work in groups, no one works; no one does anything except the really motivated people, and everyone else just copies.  They don’t learn anything, then the test scores are bad.  If tests are too bad, I have to retest.  They’ll all fail on Monday because they won’t study the study guide. Or maybe they will.

F**k this.  I’m tired.  I’m mad at myself for not teaching them today.  For saying f**k you to them.  I’m just too tired to teach Geometry anymore. I explain it on the notes and then have to explain it again and again and again.  I hate it.  There are too many kids.  There are too many kids.  There are too many.  Too many.  If my classes were half this size, I might enjoy it, but I’m just burnt out now.  I’m so f**king tired of teaching them.  I’m not going to teach them anymore.  I don’t like doing it.

I needed a vacation.  My students needed an invested teacher. I didn’t quit the position, but I did quit caring about their learning.  That is certainly failing as a teacher, and I consider it my biggest classroom failure.  But is disinvestment a sign of failing/failure under the conditions at HSHS?

I don’t think so. Even though I stopped designing stellar lessons, I still gave the students who cared the opportunity to learn.  Even though I reached my breaking point, I didn’t break.  If I had pushed myself any harder, I would’ve left HSHS altogether by April 9th.  Giving up class lessons was the only way for me to remain in the classroom and keep trying to teach someone something.  It was definitely not an ideal solution, but HSHS has never had an ideal solution for anything.

Despite everything, I’m sorry.

     It's strange to write a blog evaluating my teaching.   It's kind of like writing a blog analyzing my walking or my speaking, I can't be purely objective.  Plus I have too much information about it to summarize neatly-- trends, exceptions, reactions under a variety of circumstances, etc.  But, I'll give it a go.

    My most successful lesson/objective was what I called "Really Really Long Equations."  Basically it was just equations in one variable, no powers, that involved combining like terms and then solving a two-step equation: 3x +5 -29x +56 +2+2x -100=54, solve for x.  It's not exactly in the frameworks, but I wanted my students to be comfortable solving intimidating equations.  I figured these would help build my students' confidence.  My students responded pretty well!  They were proud when they solved the equations, they actually tried a lot harder than during my other lessons, and they voluntarily tutored each other!  I think this was met with success because it is a very routine procedure.  I think the intimidation factor helped a lot because getting the right answer to a mega-equation feels like more of an accomplishment than solving something with two pieces.  So, it was an easy procedure with a big payoff.  Nothing like rote processes!

    My least successful lesson/objective was proofs in geometry. Definitely.  Hands down, say it again.  Proofs.  It was so bad I just quit and moved on.  I know, the only useful thing that comes out of geometry is the ability to do proofs, but it had to go.  I made the biiiig mistake of trying that in October, when I still had 30-36 kids in every geometry class.  That was mistake #1: trying to teach critical thinking to big classes.  And, it was before I had my classroom management tightened down, so my kids were giving me "feedback" about the lessons in disrespectful and draining ways.  And I had no materials (not enough texts and no supplemental materials) or administrative support, and my class basically went into revolt if I ever tried to teach them to think.  If I had to do it again, I would've held off until the spring and then taught it veeeerry slooooowly.  I think it could've been taught to my classes, but only after my classroom was managed and I had the common sense to introduce critical thinking very slowly.  I'm still not convinced it would've worked. The top 40% would've gotten it just fine, but at least 50% of my students have been programmed to respond with hostility, anger, or disinterest whenever they are required to think.  I'm not exaggerating-- half of my students purposely disengaging the minute they sense that a task will not be strictly procedural.  I've tried to combat this all year, but I stand by my mantra: students in our schools will not learn when they are sharing the teacher with 28 other (unruly) students.

    Overall, I think I did the best I could given my inexperience and lack of administrative support.  I explained things carefully and tailored my worksheets, activities, and tests to each lesson. Next year, I want to teach the critical thinking processes.  I stuck to procedural stuff this year because of the reasons above, but I want to try that next year.  I want to have the courage to force my students to think, and the control to make them.  I will have that for next year, so I'm excited for the changes in my teaching.

I'm a repetitive coach.  I give the same piece of advice four or five times within the same 15 minute coaching session.  It might be a habit I developed from teaching 9th graders; it's probably just the way I give advice.  Honestly, I try not to repeat myself, but I'm convinced I'm coming at my advice from a more exciting angle each time it comes out.  I'm not.

I'm also a very positive and excitable coach.  I like to give my first years a lot of props, and I celebrate with them when they make significant progress.  I try to be an adaptable coach-- to work with them to find their own styles-- but I'm not as good at that.

I'm especially not good at waiting to hear what my first-years think of their own lessons.  It's been difficult for me to hold back my "your set was awesome!!" long enough to ask what parts of the lesson they felt were particularly strong or weak.  I've been trying to catch myself in this, but I've only had about 50% success. 

My coaching started as me just talking talking talking-- bestowing a whole year's worth of wisdom-- and is finally developing into (I hope) talking listening.  It should probably be listening talking listening, but I'll get there.  I've tried to focus on two or three main things each coaching session (silence is okay, you are in control, etc etc), and I think that helps to give my first years just a few things to think about for their next lessons.  I don't really have any techniques.  I try to be open, positive, and relaxed.  I try to give them opportunities to ask questions and process the lesson, but I have to take my own advice and be okay with initial silence in the coaching session for my first years to process.

I think coaching has made me more confident as a teacher.  Ms Dole 07 was exactly like her first years and had the same exact questions and insecurities.  I see now how much I've grown and that I actually did learn something this year.  Coaching has also reminded me to put the work on the students!!  I did way way too much talking and helping in the classroom this year, and advising other teachers to make the students work reminds me of how much better I could be doing.  I understand better how the temptation arises to do everything in the classroom, whether it comes to a first or second year teacher.