Pride and Shame: Does Competition Have a Place in Learning?

The day began with an email from a 9th grader who had just received scores on her unit essay the day before. In content and organization (our first two criteria), she had done well, but in our third criterion--style and language use--she had earned a 3 on a 10-point scale. Her email included the phrases, "Even though I worked so hard on this essay my score ... does not exhibit improvement but failure," and "I am truly ashamed of this score, I am sorry." I was profoundly troubled by her use of the words "failure," "ashamed," and "sorry." She had completely overlooked very strong scores in content and organization because of a low score in style and language use. And she was clearly worried that I was disappointed in her. But why?

My wise friend and fellow teacher Susan Adams recommended I read the work of Brené Brown, an author and researcher in psychology. In one of her books, she writes, “Shame works like the zoom lens on a camera. When we are feeling shame, the camera is zoomed in tight and all we see is our flawed selves, alone and struggling.” And when I read my young 9th grader's words, that is all I could think about. All she could see were the flaws.

I then began to think about what she had done to earn that low score. Quite simply, she was using a thesaurus to try to sound smarter, but in the process, she was sounding contrived. Interestingly, I had not told her on any previous assessments that she needed to change her vocabulary. Perhaps, then, her quest for perfection was a perceived inferiority in comparison to her peers. Brown also writes, "Healthy striving is self-focused: 'How can I improve?'Perfectionism is other-focused: 'What will they think?'” Does school inherently teach students to be perfectionists?

Later that same day, my freshmen were trying their hand at their first graded discussion. With my 9th grader's words fresh on my mind, I said to them before they began, "You are not in competition with one another. If you notice that the person sitting next to you hasn't shared yet, ask him to share. If you see a connection that a peer could be making, lead her to it and let her finish the thought for you."  I said the same thing to my AP classes the next day as they engaged in panel presentations of independent research they had conducted. And although the students in both cases presented scholarly, awe-inspiring learning, I could hear in their tone and see in their body language that sometimes they were still competing, actively trying to out-do one another; but for what--their peers' respect? my praise? an A?

When I think of all the ways we ask them to compete, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. GPAs. Honor Rolls. ACT scores. College admission. Does that competition blind students to the pride they should have in themselves, or even in one another, for the learning they achieve? Would they be surprised that the most proud moments I have are when I hear the casual comments my students make that reveal the learning they are experiencing, sometimes right in the middle of their perceived moments of imperfection:

• "I'm having a tough time finding articles that answer my question.  I found one source, but it didn't work, so I just gave it to Max because I know he's working on ..."
• "I'm sorry I didn't say anything today in the discussion. It was just really cool listening to what everyone was talking about."
• "I was frustrated because I ended up getting kind of distracted in my research. I found this really interesting article and went off on a tangent reading all these documents even though it didn't really relate to my topic."
• "I know this is really last minute, but is it okay if I change my research question? My sources ended up totally conflicting with what I originally thought."
• "Sorry this is so messy. Can you follow all the arrows?"
• "I never thought about it that way."

I know what some people will say: We live in a competitive society. Not every kid can go to Harvard. Only one person gets the job. The real world is tough, so kids have to get used to competition. But why?

What if every kid COULD go to Harvard (check out Will Richardson if you haven't already)? What if jobs weren't so isolated anymore? What if collaborative learning and thinking and creating became the norm? What if young people empowered one another in their learning? What if kids could be proud of their learning--maybe even their failures--instead of proud (or ashamed) of their grades? Could that change begin in Education instead of Education trying to fit in to the status quo?

As my co-conspirator Mike said to me yesterday (hoping he'll forgive the paraphrase), "It's like I want to give the kids two different grades. One for college admissions so they can get into whatever schools they have their hearts set on, and one that actually tells them what they know and where they stand so they can learn."

Thanks to Give...

The last few weeks have been a crazy whirlwind of manic activity: instruction, assessment, evaluation, parent/teacher/student conferences and meetings, progress reports and marking period grades, PD and collaborative meetings, special events and pull-outs, laughter, frustration, tears. And so far so good. I'm an amazing teacher/ninja - deflecting bullets with my dagger in one hand while I fine-tune my calligraphy with the other.

There's just one important thing that hasn't happened as often as it should. Something so essential to the learning process and yet so often neglected. The first thing that always seems to falls off the back of the cart - if ever gets loaded in the first place. And that's time to reflect on the learning.

So I'm making time, rather than taking time, to share some bullet-point ruminations on the long and intense haul from the first day of school to the first break of the year. Some things that I'm thankful for no matter how challenging it's been.

• I've learned more about myself and the art of learning in the last 13 weeks than I have learned in the past 24 years - the entirety of my career.
• My confidence is growing in the rightness of what I'm doing - even though it frequently feels like one step forward and two back.
• I owe so much to my students - the brave, kind, and flexible students who've worked with me these last several weeks. You are all amazing and I'm even more convinced that you'll succeed in spite of what happens to you in school as much as because of it.
• I want to thank everyone who has honestly and candidly critiqued my work thus far. Sometimes it's hard to take - especially when I feel I'm working as hard as I can to get it right. But it's invaluable to me and my growth. I appreciate so much more personally now how students must feel when we critique their work. But honest assessments combined with a chance to make changes makes all the difference in the learning process.
• Well-written standards that promote dialogue in the learning community are essential. They provide the lingua franca for discussions about learning that bring students and teachers closer to one another and their peers.
• My colleagues, in their infinite variety and wisdom, model professionalism for me everyday. How I wish I could take their classes and learn from some of these incredible people.
• To my people at home - thank you for your patience and understanding for the hours and days I spend at my desk trying to figure this thing out while the laundry piles up, the grass goes uncut, and another household project waits for summer vacation. I love you guys!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

"Rest and be thankful." - William Wordsworth

It's Only October

I find that lately I have a lot to process about how I teach, how to improve, and how to find balance in my life. I am both more excited than I have ever been about what happens in my classroom and more exhausted than I have ever been by the workload I bring home. I burn the candle late at night and find that I am always behind where I would like to be.  As Mike wrote in his last post, I am struggling to find a way to give regular meaningful feedback and not feel like I am drowning.  In a morning collaboration meeting yesterday, he said it well: ‘I need to learn how to breath water.” And it’s only October.

At 6:45 last Monday morning, one of my AP Lit doubters came in to see me about her essays. We sat down and took a look at the three impromptus she has written so far, including one that I had not yet scored. As we looked them over and I showed her exactly where she could make improvements, she nodded her head and explained that she had trouble organizing her thoughts. She admitted that she’d always done well in English and was having a hard time hearing criticism from me and her peers. We scored her third essay together, and as we looked at the descriptors on the rubric, she saw what she had accomplished but also where she had clearly fallen short. She told me what she thought her score should be in each criterion, and she was right on the mark. And as we wrapped up our meeting she said, “Why didn’t I come talk to you weeks ago?” That Monday morning doubter-turned-considerer asked me as she left, “When do we get to do another impromptu?” When I told her she’d have the chance again in 10 days, she said, relieved, ‘Oh good. I finally get it, and I would be so annoyed if there was only one more chance to show you what I can do.” She’s so relieved that it’s only October.

On Friday, my 9th graders had their 2nd summative assessment of the year. Before we started, a young man in my 5th hour class asked me, terrified, “What if I don’t know the answer to one of the questions?” I paused. I thought about it.  Prior to using Empowered Learning, that young man would have left a question blank and lost points for it. End of story. But by looking at students’ work holistically and giving them room to show me what they know and can do, I was so glad to be able to say, “Well, Criterion A evaluates ‘your understanding of the works studied and an effective response to literature.’ So, if you don’t know an answer, couldn’t you write about something you DO know about the epic?” He paused. He thought about it. He nodded. He’s starting to get it, and it’s only October.

A colleague and I have been talking a lot about Empowered Learning during our prep hour. She teaches Spanish, and she desperately wants to move to this style of teaching and learning. Initially, she wasn’t sure she had the time to dedicate to the transition, but about a week ago, she decided she couldn’t wait. She couldn’t ignore her frustrations with points and homework completion and a lack of student ownership. So, she just went for it. She spent hours working her lesson plans over for the next unit, trying to create opportunities for students to practice their skills with a clear rubric in mind and without the fear of failure and penalty. She sent me a great email on Wednesday that just said, “The engagement in my class is out of bounds right now! :-)” And, imagine, it’s only October.

A senior came to me and said she had a dilemma. She is applying early decision to a university that requires students to send in their 1st quarter grades. She said she was afraid she might lose her chance at admission because she doesn’t have an A yet. But it’s only October! How can we teach kids to love learning when we constantly tell them that they have to be perfect before they’ve had a chance to practice?

Some of my students really, really want lectures, study guides, homework checks, and desks in rows. They don’t like working in groups, they don’t like self-assessment, and they don’t like that even though they work hard, they might not get an A. Part of me really wants to tell my students everything I know about every text we study. I won’t lie that their dislike of my teaching method sometimes feels like a doubt about my content knowledge, and my desire to flaunt what I know is hard to suppress. But I also think that for most students, learning gets truncated when they are told what to see in the literature they read, when assignments exist in isolation, or when they are allowed to think in isolation. And a lot of students seem to see grades as being given to them by the teacher rather than earned by themselves.

For now, I’m going to try to be patient because it’s only October while trying not to lose steam because it’s only October.

The paradox of Meaningful and Manageable...

One of the things that attracted me most to standards-based assessment was its emphasis on clearly articulated learning goals. The idea that a student should be able to work towards mastery in a content area, skill set - or both - spoke to me personally as well as professionally. And yet I struggle everyday with implementing a mastery learning approach in a way that's personal and individualized; meaningful and efficient. And therein lies the rub: There just doesn't seem to be enough hours for communicating with students about the learning and growth I'm trying to promote.

I'm having great fun working in the Cloud with students as a way of trying to encourage collaboration, provide meaningful feedback on student products, and be more efficient towards those ends. But I've found that the learning curve is steep re: inconveniencing electrons compared to pushing papers. The greatest challenge here is how to keep the work organized in the Cloud - especially the conventions related to naming and sharing files. Thanks to the students themselves -  and some very clever colleagues who are pushing this envelope as well - I'm learning and the students are learning and our collaborative effort to get organized is beginning to pay off. Hopefully this will mean more timely feedback for students.

While the Cloud means not having to collect, carry, and return papers, which is good for me and the students, it also means more time on each individual piece of student work. But lately I'm discovering that may not be the greatest thing after all.

Previously the amount of time that I would spend writing feedback on student products would be limited by the amount of space I had in the margins of their work and the stamina I could muster to cram handwritten comments in those marginal spaces. With the Cloud-based editing and commenting tools available I'm "freed" to make comments as long as necessary to bring the student work to the context of the standards.

So now I'm taking three, five, seven or more minutes with a student product trying to make comments that mean something. Comments that connect the product to the standards beyond just tacking on a number. In mathematical terms it means that a class of 25 can easily take more than two hours to evaluate. Figure that across five classes and there's not enough planning time at school - or peace and quiet at home (unless I work when everyone's sleeping) - to even begin to think it's a sustainable way of providing worthwhile formative experiences for students.

So how can I do what I need to do - what I want to do - which is give students meaningful formative feedback on their knowledge and understanding, investigating, critical thinking, and communicating in a timely way?

Any ideas out there? I'm all ears!

Like Riding a Bike...

Learning How to Ride a Bike (the grade-averaged way)...

Here's the experience of my stepdaughter - who learned to ride when she was 6-years old.

• Unit 1: Safety Equipment
• Wear helmet correctly
• Wear closed-toe shoes
• Helmet on backwards and unbuckled, despite being shown.
• Flip flops instead of shoes, despite being told.
• 0 out of 5 pts possible
• Unit 2: Walking a bike
• Walk bike from garage to sidewalk without dropping the bike
• Successfully pulled bike from garage
• Could not turn figure out how to turn bike around
• Walked bike to sidewalk but ran over own feet twice, dropped bike once
• 2 out of 5 pts possible
• Unit 3: Getting on a bike
• Get on the bike without falling or dropping the bike
• Foot caught on seat trying to lift leg over bike.
• Lost balance, dropped bike, fell on top of bike. Cried.
• 1 out of 10 pts possible
• Unit 4: Pedaling
• Start the bike by pedaling from a stop
• Maintain a steady speed
• Needed accommodation for inability to balance - mom held seat
• Completed one revolution of pedals, crossed front wheel, crashed into grass
• On retake actually got bike started but couldn't maintain speed, tipped over into grass.
• 10 out of 20 pts possible
• Unit 5: Steering
• Keep the bike on the sidewalk and off the grass
• Make a left and right turn
• Finally able to maintain speed and keep bike on sidewalk.
• Misjudged turn at corner and crashed into bush. Scratched arm and leg. Cried. Refused to make another left turn - insisted on riding the other direction.
• 25 of 40 pts possible
• Unit 6: Braking
• Slow the bike by applying the brake
• Stop and get off the bike without falling or dropping the bike
•  Able to slow bike but failed to resume pedaling without putting foot down
• Stopped bike too quickly, didn't get foot down fast enough. Tipped over onto sidewalk, skinned knee and heel of hand. Cried.
• 20 of 40 pts possible
• Final Exam: Ride the bike
• Demonstrate all the above plus...
• Ride the bike once around the block
• Could not complete requirement above in the time allotted for the course
• Granted extended time was finally able to ride the bike around the block not once, but seven times, and turned to a stop in the driveway without falling off the bike.
• 30 out of 30 pts (20% of grade) * modified
• Final Grade = E
• 88 out of 150 pts possible = 58.6%
• No extra credit for extra laps on exam.
• No extra credit for effort and courage.
• No extra credit for loving to ride and wanting to go farther and faster.

What do you remember about learning how to ride a bike?

"Life is like a ten speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use."~ Charles Shulz

What if we were all this brave?

It seems as though my students are finally finding their groove. They get what it means to be scored based on criteria, though they are still figuring out what the assessment descriptors look like in practice; they realize that low scores now won't necessarily mean low scores later,though some are still having me field questions from their parents; and they are enjoying the fact that their homework is not graded. 

And yet, I still hear...

"What if it sounds stupid?" 
"What if I do it wrong?" 
"What if I don't finish?" 
"What if I get a bad grade?"

In my head, I passionately respond, "Who cares?" But I recognize that they might misconstrue those words. What I want to say is, "This is your learning. Don't let other people tell you whether your learning sounds smart, correct, finished, or up-to-par. This is your education. Claim it!"

But then I remember that they are 14, 15, 16, maybe 17 years old and I am asking a lot. Was I brave enough, at 14, to turn in an assignment that was only half way done? Was I brave enough to show rough drafts of writing to my classmates? Was I brave enough to not let other people's judgments of my work affect my learning? Half the time I'm not brave enough now! Here I sit, writing this blog, wondering what my own colleagues will think of it, questioning whether I'm writing something worth sharing with you, our readers.

So instead of saying, "Who cares?" I found myself saying to one young lady on Monday, "Be brave." She sat for twenty minutes in front of her computer screen as three classmates (not her friends) typed feverishly into a shared google doc about the distinctive characteristics of an exceptional short story. Every 5 minutes or so, I walked by and just said, "Be brave." And when, finally, she started typing, she realized what she'd been missing.

Because it's scary to take risks in your learning when you think the answer might be wrong. It's terrifying to put your ideas out there for others when you think your writing doesn't sound as sophisticated as that of your peers. But it feels so good when you realize you're not alone in your learning. This Empowered Learning thing forces students to take ownership of their learning but gives them the freedom to learn and grow from others. It's electric. 

I'll end with a few thoughts from my students this week in response to a quick (anonymous) reflection activity about collaboration when the practice and homework isn't graded:

I like this system a lot because I don’t have to feel alone when I don’t know an answer or like I don’t have anyone who can help me. You can really talk and “bounce” ideas off of each other. The answers in this system are supposed to be thoughtful, thorough and well written and your peers can really help with that. This way, I just have to try my best and then the outcome is just me learning what I need to do better. I feel that I’m able to almost take more risks in class and experiment with different ideas and explanations that I would have never done if I knew that it may impact my grade in a negative way.

 What if we were all this brave?

 

 

Truth be told

“Trust starts with truth and ends with truth.” –Santosh Kalwar

One October evening when I was a graduate student in English at Wayne State University, I sent my dad an email. I had attached what I thought was the final draft of my thesis. I trusted—and still do—my dad and valued his opinion beyond measure; after all, he’s been in the business for 40 years, over half of them as a professor of English.  So, when he sent the document back, and I saw how many comments and questions there were typed into the margins, I would be lying if I said it hadn’t stung. But, the thesis I ultimately submitted was stronger for it, as was I as a learner.

We had family therapy in AP Literature yesterday. Why? They got back their first assessment, their base-line writing assignment, and suddenly the trust I had asked them to put in me was tested.

When I introduced Empowered Learning in the first week of school, I promised the students I would always be truthful. But wow, that truth is sometimes hard to face.  Their egos were bruised--no question--but more than that, they were panicked. Many of them saw scores they’d never seen before. In the world of grade averaging, those scores would have meant there was no hope for an A, maybe even a B. The notion of using one set of rubrics that remain the same all year is new to most of them. They’ve heard me say that their grade will be based on their highest consistent score and that they will have ample opportunity to learn and improve and show me what they can do; but there was definitely a sense of distrust ... that I might turn my back, leave them to fend for themselves, or, heaven forbid, decide to average their scores after all. And there was fear about what their parents would say.

So, I did the only two things I could think of: I ran interference with a few parents to ease some of the panic, and I got on with class. We spent some time looking at strong sample papers and then students wrote and wrote and wrote, alone, in small groups, sharing constructive criticism, fueled by their desire to improve their skills in Criterion A. And I think they’re starting to get it. Every moment in class is a moment to practice, free of penalty. Every homework task is a risk-free opportunity to try their hand at writing differently, sometimes better, sometimes not. Every assessment they take is a chance to get feedback, reassess their strategy, and forge ahead.

It was hard to see my students in emotional distress. That’s not why any of us got into teaching. But at the end of the day, whether they like me or not, like Empowered Learning or not, I want to know that I told them the truth—at the beginning and at the end—and gave them endless chances to be brave in their learning. For me, Empowered Learning is how I can keep that promise.

And Here We Go...

Many times, when I am on the brink of a new beginning, I think of Heath Ledger as The Joker in The Dark Knight, as he is walking toward his epic battle with Batman he says, "and here we go".  That is how I feel today as my students complete their first assessment in my class - the dreaded summer reading.

Much like Jen, I have gotten a lot of questions about whether or not this assessesment is graded, how many points is it worth, will this be on Zangle?  Through continued discussion and soothing words, I've tried to remind the kids about the purpose of standards based assessment, and asked that they trust me to help them through this new process.

To add to the anxiety students are already feeling, I've already experienced some gradebook issues because my kids' grades are showing up as Es, which has many of them concerned.

Regardless of the gradebook issue, and the fears some kids still have over SBA, I think students will be more willing to trust me and the new system once they see how it works.

So, here we go...

What am I doing here?

"What am I doing here?"

I ask myself that question a lot lately. Not because I'm second-guessing my career choice after 24 years, and not because I think there must be a better situation out there for me somewhere else.

It's because my learning, as a result of changing the focus of my classroom, instruction, and assessment processes has led me to be more reflective, more deliberate, more empathetic in my approach to the work I do and the people I work with.

And I see differently what's happening around me. I see two tides rising. One from the outside that has an unshakeable faith in the power of data to reveal the truth about teaching and learning. The business/science of education.

The other tide, the one I'm swimming with, is also rooted in an unshakeable faith. Faith in the humanity of learning, the power of relationships, the empowering nature of learning to learn, and the confidence and optimism that comes from being respected for our individual gifts. The art of learning.

So it's not "What am I doing here?" it's more "What am I doing here?"

And if I had to put one in front of the other I think I'd rather do good than well.

"The apparent ease with which children learn is their ruin. You fail to see that this very facility proves that they are not learning. Their shining, polished brain reflects, as in a mirror, the things you show them, but nothing sinks in. The child remembers the words and the ideas are reflected back; his hearers understand them, but to him they are meaningless."

Excerpt from Emile, Or On Education,  by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1762.

What My Students Are Saying...

As Mike wrote in his most recent blog entry "On the eve of week 2", this first week has highlighted for me how well we (myself included until a year ago) train our students in a traditional assessment model to see the grade and points as the goal of learning despite the fact that few of us went in to teaching with that as our philosophy. I am astounded by the number of times in the last week a student has asked, "So, will this count towards my grade?" But, as Mike did, I have tried to reassure my students that they will be okay... more than okay, I hope.

Two reflections to share, borrowing the words of these budding empowered learners themselves:

1. I had a student write on the bottom of her very first in-class essay, "You won't be able to tell from this test, but I did read the book. I tried my best, so I hope that is okay." My new mantra: your best is ALWAYS good enough!

2. Last year, I did some exit polling at the end of the year to see how students felt about Empowered Learning. The results were fantastic. But I realized that I hadn't asked them how they felt at the beginning, and I think that's really worth asking as well. So, I have. Here are some of my favorite responses from my students today:

• "I'm very excited about learning how to be a better writer."
• "I think your grading system is fair and cool. I like it a lot. I'm nervous about getting good grades."
• "I don't really understand it. Once I understand the grading system more, I will be more comfortable."
• "I think it's very fair. It's not something I'm used to, but I'll get the hang of it."
• "I like how it sounds, getting a grade on the end result. I might kind of dislike not being able to see the grade till the end but that's okay."
• "I'm worried about this grading system because I won't be able to constantly check my grade."
• "I think that it is probably a good system because it isn't averaged and if you keep improving you get a better grade."
• "I think it will be fun but it will be difficult to explain to my parents."

I have told my students two things in these past days: I promise to be fair and honest about your skills every step of the way, even when it is hard, and I know it will take time for you to trust that promise.

"Risk anything! Care no more for the opinion of others ... Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth." ~Katherine Mansfield, Journal entry, 14 October 1922

On the eve of Week 2...

So I feel like the first week of school went pretty well.

I was expecting there to be a lot more chaos and stress - and I'm sure there was somewhere for someone. So I count myself lucky that some of my apprehensions turned out to be just... some apprehensions.

I focused the first class meetings of the new year on the idea of Empowered Learning to the World History students at 9Camp and the Psych 1 and Intro to Philosophy students at MCamp.

The Freshmen seemed eager to take a run at this way of learning. But it's been my experience that the freshmen are pretty much eager and excited to be high school students. They're ready for just about anything different - and eager and excited to get on with it.

The Juniors and Seniors, on the other hand, were a divided lot.

There were more than a handful of students that seemed intrigued by the idea of grading that takes into account progress. They were curious and interested in an approach to the classroom that emphasizes active learning and some degree of freedom and choice.

But I also got a vibe ("Mr. Barry, are we actually going to learn any psychology this semester) that some upperclassmen were hoping for a more traditional, lecture-focused, daily-homework-for-points, what's-my-grade-right-at-this-very-second kind of experience. They struck me as apprehensive and perhaps a little disappointed by the divergence from their expectations and training.

I think they're going to be OK, and I told them so. I told them I believe that BHHS students are remarkably resilient and resourceful. And once they get the swing of the Humanities Assessment Criteria and how they're applied - and how we use them to encourage risk-taking and growth - that they'd find themselves surprised to find that learning is fun again. And that the content of the course will be stickier than it ever was in any other cram-it-in-for-the-test kind of class.

I believe it. My greatest challenge in the next couple of weeks will be helping them believe it too!

MB

"Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence."
Helen Keller 

Observations and Reflections on the First Day:

It's no secret among educators, either 100 years ago, or yesterday, that setting a positive tone with a new group of students from day one can make a huge impact on the path the classroom learning community takes for the rest of the year.  Incorporating the "Empowering Learning"model is not only a wonderful system to ensure that a postive and encouraging tone is set for students on the first day, but, by it's very own nature, reinforces postive fostering of the classroom room learning community by the students themselves for the duration of the course.  In my experience, I have always tried to build a community of trust and safety with the students in the first few weeks of school.  The problem of maintaining the community, however, throughout the duration of the course--especially with the increase in content expectations to cover and the limited time to cover them--has been something I have struggled with for years.  It is a struggle I have lost, not only because my attention is required elsewhere with content and skill-teaching, but I haven't fully allowed my students to take the lead and initiative in maintaining the community that is created.  It is their learning community, after-all--not mine.  A positive, encouraging, and supportive learning community of students at the beginning of the year, without continual reinforcement, often ends with disappointment by both the teacher and the students. Reflecting on my first day working with the "Empowering Learning Model," I have realized that the continual reinforcement of classroom norms, trust, support, and student-led initiative and responsibility for learning as a team--instead of just individually--might provide the answer of maintaining an effective learning community that survives past the first few weeks of school.  I am excited to see how this develops in my classes using this model.   More to follow! 

David Jenvey-- 

Peril vs. Triumph

"When there is no peril in the fight, there is no glory in the triumph" - Pierre Corneille

Firstly, I want to extend a huge thank you and all my gratitude to Jen, Mike, and Dave for allowing me to be part of this journey. I am so lucky to work with such an amazing group of supportive educators.

As these first two days have come and gone - I realized how nervous I was about rolling out standards based assessment to all my students. I was nervous they wouldn't understand the concept, or would run to their counselors asking to be switched to a different English teacher.

While I believe very strongly in standards based assessment, it has proven, at times, to be a rather scary endeavor.  However, I have already had some great feedback from students who are excited to begin this journey with me!

I am looking forward to "the fight" but am even more excited about the triumphs to come.

-MR

D minus 2...

D minus 4 (cont.)

"Here are three things we can say about the fact that we are all here now. One, the subject is World History. Two, I'm your teacher. And three, this is 9Camp - Room 10.

"Only one of these is true...

"Maybe not the first one. I know your schedule says World History. To earn a diploma you have to take World History. There will be world history questions on the MME and ACT.

"But this course is not really about world history. It's about you. It's about how you can learn to learn - confidently and independently. World history is the timber we'll use to learn how to make a ship. The Humanities Assessment Criteria are the tools and hardware that will help you construct the ship. When it's ready the ship will sail with you at the helm. And you'll be able to navigate not only the sea of world history but the entire ocean of the social sciences.

"I'm uncomfortable suggesting that the second proposition - 'I'm your teacher' - is true. I've always felt funny about calling myself a teacher - especially at the beginning of a course. It seems a bit presumptuous to consider oneself a teacher before knowing if anyone has learned anything. So for now I'll be your instructor, coach, cheerleader, devil's advocate, and fussy quality control inspector. If, at the end of the semester, it turns out you've learned something, and you feel like I had something to do with it, then I'll let you decide whether or not I'm a teacher.

"So I guess it must be the third thing that's true. Welcome to 9Camp - Room 10, Black Hawks. I'm Mike Barry and it's going to be an awesome year!"

"I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught."Winston Churchill

What's in a syllabus?

Admission #1: I've never thought much about the tone of my course syllabi past the opening line or two.  

I have always tried to sound warm and inviting, yet scholastic and passionate (successfully, of course) in the opening sentences, but they have all then rapidly deteriorated into a list of texts, grading scales, community rules, and school supplies. 

Admission #2: When reading the syllabus with my students, I have been known to say, "let's just skip this part--you can read that on your own" because I was so bored with it.

So, as I stood in line for the copy machine on Thursday, syllabus in hand, I couldn't pinpoint the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Nerves? Too much sushi during the highly coveted opportunity to go out for lunch like my friends in the corporate world? Nope, something deeper. I felt like a hypocrite. After spending much of last year in the glow of Empowered Learning, in which my students were more engaged, more challenged, and better learners than I had seen in 12 years before, my safe and detailed syllabus just didn't seem to tell my story anymore.
 
Admission #3: I looked up synonyms for syllabus (yes, English nerd alert). 

I find it highly interesting that Merriam-Webster's thesaurus told me there were none and suggested I try again with "splashy" or "sleepless." Maybe it's on to something. Who is the syllabus really for when I write it like I have in the past--the student? or the parent I think might be looking over his or her shoulder that night at home? or me? I guess it begs the question, how do I really want to begin? Thanks to technology, my students (and their parents) can get the lists they need online. 

Since I am apparently very into living life on the edge right now, what with joining Twitter (@jtealio) and starting a blog with my awesome colleagues, I've decided to scrap it and give my students something more like a mission statement. I want my students to know what I value. Now I just have to figure out how to say it.

Admission #4: I've never been as excited to start a school year as I am right now. And I have my colleagues on this blog and at my school to thank for it. This stuff is terrifying, and I love it!

D minus 4...

Just want to say thanks to my remarkable, creative teammates: Dave J, Meredith R, and Jen T. I'm inspired by you and this grand idea of helping kids learn how to learn. And I like the idea of this blog. I'll try to throw in a "guess what..." and/or a "what for..." as often as I can.

My head is full of "What am I gonna say first?" as we approach the opening day of school and the reload of our head-first dive into Empowered Learning. My favorite place to try out my material is when I'm driving in the car. No one can hear me - but me - and fellow motorists just think I'm talking on my hands-free or singing along to my favorite song.

So I'm cruisin' down Tele yesterday with messy ideas swirling around the bowl in my head and all the sudden I'm talking out loud...

"Welcome to Bloomfield Hills High School and the first day of school. I'm really glad we're all here and I'm psyched for the upcoming year.

"Here are three things we can say about the fact that we are all here now. One, the subject is World History. Two, I'm your teacher. And three, this is 9Camp - Room 10.

"But I have to confess that only one of these things is true. Can you guess which one?"

Can you?

(to be continued...)

"In these days, a man who says a thing cannot be done is apt to be interrupted by some idiot doing it."

Elbert Hubbard

"Perfect is the enemy of done."

That quote was really the motivation for this blog. Thanks to Kevin Honeycutt, a passionate educator encouraging teachers to “live out loud,” here goes our leap into the (somewhat) unknown world of educational blogging. We hope you’ll join us on our journey of discovery. More to come soon...