Life Lessons from Steinbeck

I suppose my love of literature came from my parents, who read to me often as a child.  It is a common sight for me to walk into my parents' house and see my dad reading The New Yorker in the living room, and my mom, the latest crime thriller in her bed.  It is also common for dad to cut out articles to send along with me to read in my precious spare time.  Last week, he gave me the inside cover of his New Yorker which was an advertisement for a Broadway revival of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. This couldn't have been more timely, as I am currently wrapping up my unit on this novel with my Writing Through Literature I class.

As I left for work this morning, I grabbed the ad and figured I'd show it to my kids.  What happened next is one of those moments most teachers dream of.  After the bell rang and the announcements concluded I asked my students to take out their copy of the novel and look up when it was published.  Yes, I actually made them look in the book instead of google it on their smartphones.  The first time Of Mice and Men was published was in 1937.  Doing some quick math, my kids figured that was 77 years ago.  Then I held up the advertisement. Some of the girls were very excited to see James Franco headlining as George Milton.  It appears they feel about him the way I felt about Heath Ledger or Freddie Prinze Jr. circa the late 1990s.  The boys in the room were impressed to see Chris O'Dowd of Bridesmaids fame in the role of Lennie Small. Leighton Meester, of Gossip Girl, will be starring as Curley's Wife.  These aren't new, struggling actors trying to make names for themselves.  These are stars in their own right, portraying some of the most notable characters in American Literature.

But why?  I asked my students, why after 77 years and two film adaptations would anyone bother to turn this book into a play?  Why after 77 years, when there is so much literature in the world do we still teach this novel?  I asked them to think about that for a minute.  And the response I got after a minute or so of silence blew me away. One of my students raised his hand and said, "because it will always endure."  I shouted, "yes!" - like I had never heard anything so brilliant in all my life. I asked this young man to explain what he meant by that and he went on to describe the various motifs we've discussed in class: prejudice, friendship, loneliness, and dreams.

As our brief discussion continued, the kids made a lot of great connections to prejudice and loneliness in today's society. It is evident in the media how much prejudice is still part of our every day lives.  But the true enduring themes of this novel are friendship and dreams.  George's final act in the novel was one of complete selflessness.  He chose to protect Lennie the only way he could. But the dream of the little ranch could not exist without Lennie, so the dream died.  But as my students came to understand from this story - dreams provide hope.

77 years later, people still have dreams. My students have dreams - many of them are big dreams, too.  And I hope as they grow and try to achieve them, they will always remember the importance of friendship and allow their dreams to give them  hope.

Thank you, Mr. Steinbeck, for a novel that will always endure.


-MR

Completion No Longer Counts...

I got an email from a student toward the end of the semester. She was not happy with her final grade and believed she deserved a higher score because she "did all the work." I've also had a few email exchanges with parents who have told me to look at their students' middle school English Language Arts grades, which would reflect all A's.  Middle school and high school are two very different animals. No longer can a student just "do all the work" and get the A he/she wants.

My job as a teacher of writing is to help students develop their skills to the best of their ability, which doesn't always reflect A quality work.  I don't think it should in the first semester of Freshmen year, because if it did, my job would be unnecessary. What would I have to teach them if they knew it all?  Learning and skill development is a continual process.  I try to write something of my own every day because I know I need continue developing my own skills as a writer in order to continue helping my students develop theirs. 

I'd like to get them past this idea that just doing the work means getting an A.  Does a lawyer win his case simply because he showed up to the trial? No. Does an Olympian deserve a gold medal simply for competing? No.  Somewhere along the way, students were taught that simply completing work makes it deserving of the highest accolade. 

I would love for a C on an essay to feel like a huge accomplishment if that is the best a kid can do at that moment in time. The goal is progress and growth, regardless of how much or little that may be.  I want my students to look at their grades and say "I did my best, and that is all that matters." And if they want more, I want them to strive for it - reach for more and work hard until they get where they want to be.  Nothing worth achieving is ever easy.  I learned this lesson myself many years ago when I was a student struggling in math classes.  It wasn't until I let go of wanting the "good grade" that I was able to truly look at myself and say "I did the best I could - and that is enough."

That is my wish for these kids - that they try their absolute best and are proud of themselves for whatever that may mean for them.

As always,
-MR

13 Reasons I Don't Care About Test Scores

After studying persuasion (in the novel Animal Farm), understanding how audience affects form, and choosing an area of passion, my 9th graders have created some awesome products that show their level of mastery of our three assessment criteria (content, organization, and style and language use) and how they can work together to create powerful writing. Shout-outs go to:

• Katherine P., who created a pamphlet of common misconceptions about Breast Cancer to help educate her peers.
• Andrew D., who created a pamphlet for his community to promote donations to Crayons to Classrooms, an education non-profit.
• Beste A., who wrote to the school board, suggesting that they bring back Latin classes. They responded!
• Mollie E., who wrote to Sea World, suggesting a for-profit youth training camp program to help subsidize their costs rather than making the animals perform for ticketed events.
• Brandon H., who wrote to the principal, asking that he reconsider granting community service hours for an after-school activity.
• Sarah S., who wrote to MAC cosmetics, asking them to reconsider their use of supplier companies in countries where animal testing is not required to be made public by companies who participate in those practices.
• Reyad J., who wrote to Ban Ki-moon, Secretary General of the United Nations, asking that he move forward with greater humanitarian aid in Syria, citing conversations with his own family who are trapped there and suffering from massive food and clean water shortages.
• Anna C., who wrote to the city mayor about her desire to see more sidewalks and improve community health. The mayor wrote back and has encouraged Anna to work with her further on the issue!

It is an inspiration to see what young people have in their hearts and can do with their minds!

For their final reflection, my AP Lit students had to answer a series of questions about their learning this semester. Some favorite responses include answers to the question, "Of which assignment are you most proud and why?".

• Hannah E: I am most proud of my impromptu on the novella. ... I was mainly proud of myself because my thesis was kind of “out there” and when writing it I was questioning myself. At the beginning of the semester Mrs. Teal told us if we had an original idea to just go with it and see where it takes us. This was the first time I had an idea and I had the courage to use it. 
• Ryan M: The assignment I am most proud of is the annotated bibliography and presentation because I found some really fascinating information that changed my view on Achebe and his novel; the forum allowed me a medium with which to share my findings.
• Anshu C: The novella introduced me to existentialism, and I enjoyed the chance to see philosophy explored and presented in fiction. The way Camus weaves his philosophy into the minutiae of his characters’ lives--rather, the way his characters are his philosophy--fascinated me. I was happy that I was able to notice some of the techniques he used in doing so. 
• Bryce M: Even though my best grade was on my original short story, I thought that that was one of the easier assignments we had to do so I was not as proud of that as I was my Novella Improptu were I didn’t do as well but gave it a full effort and did o.k.

Did those 9th graders all get perfect scores on their products?

Nope.

Are all those AP students getting A's?

Nope.

Do I think these are highly personalized and reflective measurements of what each student has mastered? 

You bet!

How does this translate to test scores?

I couldn't care less.

One of my seniors-Madelyn-wrote, "I want to take more risks. I am done caring about grades as a second semester senior, I want to deepen my understanding and the only way to do this is to first reflect by myself and then keep an open mind during group discussions. "

What if we had given her a place to be "done caring about grades" years ago?

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!