Pa. teacher strikes nerve with 'lazy whiners' blog - Yahoo! News
This was a cautionary tale to be sure. Teachers are in a gray area when it comes to free speech both in and out of the classroom, but to me one of the central concerns I have has to do with general confidentiality. How identifiable is this teacher on her blog? How identifiable are the students about whom she complains? I would hazard a guess that many a teacher in my own school might agree with some of the "concerns" she expresses in her blog, but for reasons of confidentiality, professionalism, appropriateness, and self-preservation, it might not be the wisest idea to overshare on the internet.
Still, we teachers know that our behavior, ideas, dress, pedagogical style, personal lives, you name it are fodder for discussion not only on the sidelines of suburban soccer fields and parents' cocktail parties, but on sites like ratemyteacher.com, Facebook, Twitter, student blogs, comments to articles, choices news media makes regarding newsworthy stories as well as nearly any other outlet you can think of. Just this past winter break, I had a woman I didn't even know attack my profession, accuse me of hiding behind my union and suggest that I wasn't a "true capitalist" because I questioned her rationale for merit pay. I guess if I was a doctor, I would be getting requests for free medical consults and goodness knows what else.
Still, I would love to see an article about the sort of day-to-day that teachers live. Most of us are neither villains nor heroes exactly.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Our Brains on Technology, take two
This time it was NPR in their story Digital Overload who provided more information on the impact our technological world has on our minds. And of course that would mean our students' minds as well. Ironically, I found out about this not from the radio, but on my Facebook newsfeed which provided me a handy link to the article. And of course, you can subscribe to NPR's podcasts on technology or for Fresh Air, should you miss the broadcast on the radio because you were probably busy doing about a million other things. (Like, I don't know, planning lessons,revamping/ maintaining your class website, finding a school appropriate lunchbox. Oh wait, that looks like my to-do list. So why was I on Facebook anyway? And now, on the blog? Uhhh...)
With back-to school on my mind, I seized upon the section where the author discussed the dopamine "squirt" video game players get or how people become conditioned to check their email and other devices constantly. It's addictive, and when you don't have that option, like ostensibly in a classroom during History class, say -- which to some kids unfortunately is so, well, yesterday-- you, or they the students in this case, can get bored. Trust me, I have seen this in real life.
Yes, I know it is my job as the teacher to keep students' attention and make History relative and interesting. But when students' neurological pathways are being set up in a certain way that find them free-falling into a dopamine crash, we educators need to keep creating ways to counteract the challenge.The latest trends include, again ironically, using technology. And other pedagogical practices, I will say, including changing the activities during a class period or increasing student participation by appealing to their social interest in one another, just to mention a couple. Humor helps, too, even if all of History itself wasn't really a laugh riot century in and century out. Part of my "summer off" was spent in three different classes in which ways to deal with this was approached, studied, practiced, discussed and generally kicked around in a professional way, actually. If you are a teacher, of course you know of what I speak; I know that.
It's great the research is out there supporting what we know to be true in the classroom. Hello? Hello? Are you still listening? Is there an app for that?
With back-to school on my mind, I seized upon the section where the author discussed the dopamine "squirt" video game players get or how people become conditioned to check their email and other devices constantly. It's addictive, and when you don't have that option, like ostensibly in a classroom during History class, say -- which to some kids unfortunately is so, well, yesterday-- you, or they the students in this case, can get bored. Trust me, I have seen this in real life.
Yes, I know it is my job as the teacher to keep students' attention and make History relative and interesting. But when students' neurological pathways are being set up in a certain way that find them free-falling into a dopamine crash, we educators need to keep creating ways to counteract the challenge.The latest trends include, again ironically, using technology. And other pedagogical practices, I will say, including changing the activities during a class period or increasing student participation by appealing to their social interest in one another, just to mention a couple. Humor helps, too, even if all of History itself wasn't really a laugh riot century in and century out. Part of my "summer off" was spent in three different classes in which ways to deal with this was approached, studied, practiced, discussed and generally kicked around in a professional way, actually. If you are a teacher, of course you know of what I speak; I know that.
It's great the research is out there supporting what we know to be true in the classroom. Hello? Hello? Are you still listening? Is there an app for that?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Some thoughts on Fixing Education – Part I
Sam Dillon’s article in today’s New York Times, Inexperienced Companies Chase U.S. School Funds, framed several disturbing trends in education that bear examination. For one, his well-chosen title illustrates a two-pronged problem rather simply: a) inexperience and b) fund chasing. Or, to put it another way, everyone’s an expert, so let’s make it pay. Education is far too important and complex to let these two issues of lack of experience and fund chasing to be the primary forces to shape it.
In so many of these articles, there is also an elephant in the room, frequently the elephant in the room in so many contexts that do have to do not only with education, but so many other things: socioeconomic class or demographics. The district in which I teach has a high status – my High School is a silver medal school, boasts college acceptance in the high 90% range, consistently ranks high in the MCAS and AP races, and people keep moving there “for the schools.” But the community is generally middle to upper middle class and actively “supports” education in that parents and guardians email with concerns, have jobs which allow them to take time off for meetings, and attend extracurricular events. Do my colleagues work hard? Absolutely. Are we well-educated ourselves? Yes. Do we care? Certainly. Do we know our students? Yes. Do we spend unpaid time with them after school for academic help, clubs, activities, or because they want an adult to talk to other than their parents sometimes? Yes. Are we teaching to a test every day? No. Is there a threat of violence hanging over the student body or faculty or the town itself? No. Can we as a school district take full credit for the successes of our students? Absolutely not. There is a confluence of reasons that result in the success of the district and students and socioeconomic class and the fact that most families in town are living above if not well above subsistence.
There are many things we can and will and already do in fact do to ensure the quality of the education of our students, including what some of these consulting companies suggest.
In so many of these articles, there is also an elephant in the room, frequently the elephant in the room in so many contexts that do have to do not only with education, but so many other things: socioeconomic class or demographics. The district in which I teach has a high status – my High School is a silver medal school, boasts college acceptance in the high 90% range, consistently ranks high in the MCAS and AP races, and people keep moving there “for the schools.” But the community is generally middle to upper middle class and actively “supports” education in that parents and guardians email with concerns, have jobs which allow them to take time off for meetings, and attend extracurricular events. Do my colleagues work hard? Absolutely. Are we well-educated ourselves? Yes. Do we care? Certainly. Do we know our students? Yes. Do we spend unpaid time with them after school for academic help, clubs, activities, or because they want an adult to talk to other than their parents sometimes? Yes. Are we teaching to a test every day? No. Is there a threat of violence hanging over the student body or faculty or the town itself? No. Can we as a school district take full credit for the successes of our students? Absolutely not. There is a confluence of reasons that result in the success of the district and students and socioeconomic class and the fact that most families in town are living above if not well above subsistence.
There are many things we can and will and already do in fact do to ensure the quality of the education of our students, including what some of these consulting companies suggest.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Teach for America or Teach for Oneself?
An article appeared in the The New York Times recently discussing the clearly competitive Teach for America program, and as a professional educator, I found myself taking issue with the program and focus as presented by the Times.
The article discussed a few people who had graduated from elite colleges and university who have pursued participation in Teach for America -- I really cannot call them educators just yet. There were several problems expressed by the article, as near as I could tell.
First of all, the slant of the article seemed to indicate that these elite grads were either doing something self-sacrificing, heroic or possible beneath what they might be doing as lawyers or business professionals by "trying out" the teaching profession. Why is it that teaching -- especially public school teaching -- seems out of the realm of elite college grads? For one thing, this isn't even true. Some of my colleagues -- as well as myself, I will say here -- attended elite colleges and universities and became teachers not because we couldn't get better jobs or because of the economy. We became teachers because there was something about the profession that spoke to us. Furthermore, being a graduate of one of those colleges mentioned in the article -- yes even Harvard or Duke -- is NO guarantee that you will be a better teacher than someone who went to a public or state college. I have absolutely seen the truth of that, I will also say.
It is hard to tell with any new teacher how long they will last in the profession; true enough. Part of the job requires a willingness to learn and participate, however, in order to be successful. Being "recruited" doesn't mean you are suited. My advice would be to listen and learn, not assume your past laurels will propel you into instant success and appreciation in a profession where even on the best of days you need your heart, humility, sense of humor, and mind intact, perhaps in that order. Trust me, no one really cares where you went to school or what your SAT scores and GPA were. It does not automatically make you a better teacher or some sort of gift to the profession. Wait, did I say that already?
As for staying up until midnight working on lesson plans, I can also say that MANY first year teachers do that. It's because you don't know what you're doing yet, to some degree. It doesn't make you a hero - it's what happens until you figure things out including how to balance teaching with the rest of your life. As for Ms. Nyugen's "Fun Math game" that she "created", I want to say Oh really? I know that Math game, as does nearly every other teacher I know who's taught elementary school Math. You can also do it to create a history timeline, or as an icebreaker at the beginning of the year where you use birthdays to order the line. Maybe Ms. Nyugen (someone really needs to tell her to lose the heels if she's teaching sixth grade) was experiencing one of Eleanor Duckworth's "Having of Wonderful Ideas". She would know about that if she went to Harvard instead of Stanford maybe. Or maybe not if she's just marking time until a job opens up 'in her field".
The article discussed a few people who had graduated from elite colleges and university who have pursued participation in Teach for America -- I really cannot call them educators just yet. There were several problems expressed by the article, as near as I could tell.
First of all, the slant of the article seemed to indicate that these elite grads were either doing something self-sacrificing, heroic or possible beneath what they might be doing as lawyers or business professionals by "trying out" the teaching profession. Why is it that teaching -- especially public school teaching -- seems out of the realm of elite college grads? For one thing, this isn't even true. Some of my colleagues -- as well as myself, I will say here -- attended elite colleges and universities and became teachers not because we couldn't get better jobs or because of the economy. We became teachers because there was something about the profession that spoke to us. Furthermore, being a graduate of one of those colleges mentioned in the article -- yes even Harvard or Duke -- is NO guarantee that you will be a better teacher than someone who went to a public or state college. I have absolutely seen the truth of that, I will also say.
It is hard to tell with any new teacher how long they will last in the profession; true enough. Part of the job requires a willingness to learn and participate, however, in order to be successful. Being "recruited" doesn't mean you are suited. My advice would be to listen and learn, not assume your past laurels will propel you into instant success and appreciation in a profession where even on the best of days you need your heart, humility, sense of humor, and mind intact, perhaps in that order. Trust me, no one really cares where you went to school or what your SAT scores and GPA were. It does not automatically make you a better teacher or some sort of gift to the profession. Wait, did I say that already?
As for staying up until midnight working on lesson plans, I can also say that MANY first year teachers do that. It's because you don't know what you're doing yet, to some degree. It doesn't make you a hero - it's what happens until you figure things out including how to balance teaching with the rest of your life. As for Ms. Nyugen's "Fun Math game" that she "created", I want to say Oh really? I know that Math game, as does nearly every other teacher I know who's taught elementary school Math. You can also do it to create a history timeline, or as an icebreaker at the beginning of the year where you use birthdays to order the line. Maybe Ms. Nyugen (someone really needs to tell her to lose the heels if she's teaching sixth grade) was experiencing one of Eleanor Duckworth's "Having of Wonderful Ideas". She would know about that if she went to Harvard instead of Stanford maybe. Or maybe not if she's just marking time until a job opens up 'in her field".
Monday, May 31, 2010
Another Reason Why Teaching Isn't Like a Desk Job: Sub Plans
This Memorial Day Weekend, I took my 78 year old mother to the emergency room where, it turns out, she needed a two hour emergency procedure to deal with a ruptured appendix. I am her only family other than a brother in West Virginia, so I officially began this new phase in my life where I am her caretaker if need be.
I waited for her to get out of the OR, still not knowing what her situation was-- they didn't know going in it was ruptured -- and pondered what to do about going to school the next day. There were several factors to deal with. One is that there is a rule about taking time off before or after a three day weekend or other holiday. You can't unless there is an emergency. Well, Mom's prognosis was good, but after thinking about it, I decided it was an emergency and I could take the time off, even if it wasn't my own personal illness. Secondly, I needed to deal with plans for a substitute.
My school has an emergency sub plan set-up: you make up emergency plans and if you can't prepare something for your classes ahead of time to do that is reasonable, you can implement the emergency plans you have created., But I had recently fallen ill myself on the way to school with a Joan Didion Virginia Woolf style true migraine, and had to call from the side of the road and ask the answering machine to please use these emergency plans. This is already a problem. I get migraines, and unless you or someone you know gets them, it is often my experience that people have NO idea that they are debilitating, sudden, and mind and psyche melting experiences. And then, suddenly, like a window thrown open, you are fine. Better than fine, which is suspicious in and of itself. Usually I slink back to school after these attacks feeling guilty for being out a day where I am in terrible pain and quite physically ill. So even before she was out of surgery, I was already trying to figure out what to do about my mother. I know this is crazy on some level, but I also know that leaving your class to sit in a study hall is not ideal. When I taught elementary school, I always got sub plans together in detail no matter what: driving ill, pulling over, calling in favors from friends and my partner,many times while being actively sick. You can't put a class of 10 year olds in a study hall all day -- they have you all day. You need to help them and the sub. The first year teacher who recently took over my class the day I used my emergency plans because I was ill had the nerve to tell me "they didn't have anything to do with the curriculum." The assignment I left was a reading about an ethics dilemma that required the classes to write an essay about whether laptops should be used in the classroom. Not only was this greenhorn insensitive, he was limited in terms of his understanding of education, perhaps understandable on some level, granted. Actually, the kids care much more about the use of laptops in the classroom and the potential distractions they can cause than about the Ottoman Empire. Or even World War II which usually rates far above the Ottomans. (Who can blame them, really?) And it was an exercise in essay writing, a skill needed whatever the topic. But anyway.
So, I called my acting department head, left a message for the sub lady, and then wrote an email to both of these folks plus the vice principal. I will make the 70 minute round trip commute tomorrow (assuming no traffic) to make sure there are materials for my classes in case, god forbid, I need to spend more than full day in the hospital with my mother. I actually feel better making the trip in to do it, and it is better for the kids than having them sit in a study hall. My point is not to be a martyr, but to point how it is not a simple matter of calling in sick or dealing with family leave in some osrt of a vacuum. Most of my colleagues in fact would probably do the same, and will likely cover for me as I have covered for them. It is a little odd, however, to be rating levels of emergency; however, teaching is like this: shifting in a moment, triaging changes in the situation, ever moving, thinking, preparing.
My school has an emergency sub plan set-up: you make up emergency plans and if you can't prepare something for your classes ahead of time to do that is reasonable, you can implement the emergency plans you have created., But I had recently fallen ill myself on the way to school with a Joan Didion Virginia Woolf style true migraine, and had to call from the side of the road and ask the answering machine to please use these emergency plans. This is already a problem. I get migraines, and unless you or someone you know gets them, it is often my experience that people have NO idea that they are debilitating, sudden, and mind and psyche melting experiences. And then, suddenly, like a window thrown open, you are fine. Better than fine, which is suspicious in and of itself. Usually I slink back to school after these attacks feeling guilty for being out a day where I am in terrible pain and quite physically ill. So even before she was out of surgery, I was already trying to figure out what to do about my mother. I know this is crazy on some level, but I also know that leaving your class to sit in a study hall is not ideal. When I taught elementary school, I always got sub plans together in detail no matter what: driving ill, pulling over, calling in favors from friends and my partner,many times while being actively sick. You can't put a class of 10 year olds in a study hall all day -- they have you all day. You need to help them and the sub. The first year teacher who recently took over my class the day I used my emergency plans because I was ill had the nerve to tell me "they didn't have anything to do with the curriculum." The assignment I left was a reading about an ethics dilemma that required the classes to write an essay about whether laptops should be used in the classroom. Not only was this greenhorn insensitive, he was limited in terms of his understanding of education, perhaps understandable on some level, granted. Actually, the kids care much more about the use of laptops in the classroom and the potential distractions they can cause than about the Ottoman Empire. Or even World War II which usually rates far above the Ottomans. (Who can blame them, really?) And it was an exercise in essay writing, a skill needed whatever the topic. But anyway.
So, I called my acting department head, left a message for the sub lady, and then wrote an email to both of these folks plus the vice principal. I will make the 70 minute round trip commute tomorrow (assuming no traffic) to make sure there are materials for my classes in case, god forbid, I need to spend more than full day in the hospital with my mother. I actually feel better making the trip in to do it, and it is better for the kids than having them sit in a study hall. My point is not to be a martyr, but to point how it is not a simple matter of calling in sick or dealing with family leave in some osrt of a vacuum. Most of my colleagues in fact would probably do the same, and will likely cover for me as I have covered for them. It is a little odd, however, to be rating levels of emergency; however, teaching is like this: shifting in a moment, triaging changes in the situation, ever moving, thinking, preparing.
Friday, May 28, 2010
I'm sorry. What?
It’s tough as a teacher to get even “bright” kids to read. I had a student today say that the problem with “Tale of Two Cities” is that it just had way too many words in it. Another recently opined that being a lawyer is a “wordy, boring profession” although he conceded “you can make a lot of money at it.” Still another said that she had no trouble a few years ago reading for four hours (she actually does like “Tale of Two Cities”) but now simply doesn’t have the concentration. She is all of 16, maybe.
“The Internet is an interruption system. It seizes our attention only to scramble it,” says Carr. And it provides an experience that permits shifting one’s focus — just click to another site — when one’s attention wanders (or when one feels that somethings is God forbid “boring”. I wonder if this is a word that has changed its meaning over time.) There is no opportunity to develop discipline, or any kind of mental “stick-to-it-iveness” that may build character but certainly will provide additional time to absorb material or, as Carr notes, learn it at all. Sometimes to comprehend and appreciate new information, we need time, a sleeper effect, a chance to shift our mental gears. But the sheer volume of information available to the brain via the internet results in what Carr names as cognitive load — or perhaps more closely cognitive overload —and the depth to which understanding can take place is threatened.
In a classroom, of course, there is no other site to switch to — at least not as long as the students don’t have laptops with internet access available to them. Education is beginning to learn how it can as a profession create pedagogical styles and learning experiences that engage these learners. It must. We teachers could complain all we want about this phenomenon, but it is out there. We biblio and logophiles lament about something else though, of course. True, it is easy enough to come by new information, but to hold a book in your hand, feel its pages, or savor the prose of anyone who takes the time to craft words are activities that have almost become anachronistic. The real has become virtual, a strange sort of metaphysical downloading, an inverse the full consequences of which we have yet to see in the classroom or anywhere else, for that matter.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Working it Out
Never have I regretted my decision to become a public school teacher. Well, on less than stellar days I have been known to joke about staying at my job at the accountant's or working at Petco. I am actually not dissing Petco -- I worked at Trader Joe's,another retail establishment, during grad school and seriously, it was the best part time job I ever had, and I didn't mind going to work. I have several pets, including reptiles and fish and sometimes I think it might be easier to deal with customers in that department of Petco than teenagers. But maybe not.I wouldn't rule out Petco as a retirement job, no kidding. (This schtick I am sure got me a gift card to Petco one year from a mom -- this was before you couldn't take gifts without reporting them to the IRS, saying three or for hail Marys or rending your garment for the sin you were committing by doing so, to throw in some Christian imagery -- absolutely no offense to any other people. Insert your own atonement as needed.)
Not infrequently, however, I run across people who have various things to say about public schools or teaching or something about education that is less than flattering And I'm not even talking about what happens if you open up the newspaper. I wonder sometimes what the motivation behind this sort of thing is, since I of course, like to think of myself as relatively harmless. On my most compassionate days, I think the at-times diatribes are a result of bad experiences they had with school themselves or possibly some experience they had with their kid's teacher. Last night's weirdness may have well been the latter.
I am taking a course about Islam at night and while waiting for the class to start, was chit chatting with people outside. Someone I knew asked me what I was doing for April break, so this prompted a woman to ask what I taught. I knew I was getting into trouble already by her tone (patronizing, including, "Oh you're a high school teacher." As opposed to what? A college professor? I was taking a college course right there wasn't I?) and was starting admittedly to feel defensive when she asked me what I taught. I gave what I wanted to be the short answer: World History, Psych and an ethics class. The Ethics class is really called the History, Philosophy and Ethics of Altruism, known in school as the Love class, but I wasn't feeling any of that from her. Of course it was the "ethics" class she wanted to talk about, and she proceeded to interrogate.
What did it cover? And to her the million dollar question; What age group took it? Juniors and Seniors was my answer. Oh. (That sealed it, apparently.) *Her* kids took it in *public school* in 10th grade. [Insert triumphant trumpet flair here.] I wasn't sure what this was all about. Oh and I *must* be teaching about John Stuart Mill "You know, utilitarianism." Yes, I know about utilitarianism .(I hoped she didn't see my internal eye- roll.)
I thought the whole thing was very bizarre and like I was in a minor sparring match with someone I had just met. What was her angle? Did one of her kids ace the ethics class, signifying that her child was "gifted", that she was a superior parent, that her kids' school was better than my school???? Did some teacher not think one of her kids was god's gift? Were her shoes too tight and her heart too small?
I have been on the receiving end of a number of commentaries about public school education, from people who have had kids in a public system and people who put their kids in private schools, to people that say their kid needs to be home-schooled. Rarely are these comments, I am sad to say, complimentary. Every once in a while people will say "You people don't get paid enough,"but that is uncommon.
We teachers are all kinds of people, which is a credit to the profession and a benefit to the kids. I am very glad to say by and large the teachers I know are working very hard and care about what they are doing. This is a testimony to my district and to the community that supports it, to be sure. It is distressing when someone doesn't take the time to understand what you are doing -- or granted doesn't have the time to -- but is quick to judge or question it. If my estimation of this woman's age is correct, I would guess that her kids are probably out of college now. It was sad that she still had some kind of bone to pick with public education. Or maybe she just building her kids (who I have never met) up. It's sad. I like kids and like my job, and the defensiveness on both of our sides in this brief (albeit civil) conversation was a waste of energy and put a barrier between us that didn't need to be constructed.
Not infrequently, however, I run across people who have various things to say about public schools or teaching or something about education that is less than flattering And I'm not even talking about what happens if you open up the newspaper. I wonder sometimes what the motivation behind this sort of thing is, since I of course, like to think of myself as relatively harmless. On my most compassionate days, I think the at-times diatribes are a result of bad experiences they had with school themselves or possibly some experience they had with their kid's teacher. Last night's weirdness may have well been the latter.
I am taking a course about Islam at night and while waiting for the class to start, was chit chatting with people outside. Someone I knew asked me what I was doing for April break, so this prompted a woman to ask what I taught. I knew I was getting into trouble already by her tone (patronizing, including, "Oh you're a high school teacher." As opposed to what? A college professor? I was taking a college course right there wasn't I?) and was starting admittedly to feel defensive when she asked me what I taught. I gave what I wanted to be the short answer: World History, Psych and an ethics class. The Ethics class is really called the History, Philosophy and Ethics of Altruism, known in school as the Love class, but I wasn't feeling any of that from her. Of course it was the "ethics" class she wanted to talk about, and she proceeded to interrogate.
What did it cover? And to her the million dollar question; What age group took it? Juniors and Seniors was my answer. Oh. (That sealed it, apparently.) *Her* kids took it in *public school* in 10th grade. [Insert triumphant trumpet flair here.] I wasn't sure what this was all about. Oh and I *must* be teaching about John Stuart Mill "You know, utilitarianism." Yes, I know about utilitarianism .(I hoped she didn't see my internal eye- roll.)
I thought the whole thing was very bizarre and like I was in a minor sparring match with someone I had just met. What was her angle? Did one of her kids ace the ethics class, signifying that her child was "gifted", that she was a superior parent, that her kids' school was better than my school???? Did some teacher not think one of her kids was god's gift? Were her shoes too tight and her heart too small?
We teachers are all kinds of people, which is a credit to the profession and a benefit to the kids. I am very glad to say by and large the teachers I know are working very hard and care about what they are doing. This is a testimony to my district and to the community that supports it, to be sure. It is distressing when someone doesn't take the time to understand what you are doing -- or granted doesn't have the time to -- but is quick to judge or question it. If my estimation of this woman's age is correct, I would guess that her kids are probably out of college now. It was sad that she still had some kind of bone to pick with public education. Or maybe she just building her kids (who I have never met) up. It's sad. I like kids and like my job, and the defensiveness on both of our sides in this brief (albeit civil) conversation was a waste of energy and put a barrier between us that didn't need to be constructed.
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