I am currently student teaching in a school with a relatively high percentage of low income families. There is a high percentage of minority students (for Iowa, at least), and many of the students come to us from pretty rough circumstances at home. One piece of rhetoric that is often kicked around to help teachers to help students from low income backgrounds is to give them “the enrichment they do not receive at home”. Now, There have been a number of studies done on the subject measuring the diversity of words spoken at home, access to resources, access to knowledgeable help for homework, and all manner of other yardsticks and I’m not here to argue with the numbers. What I’d like to talk about is how students are supposed to get this enrichment we want them to have.

“Rigorous” should never mean “more work”. It’s not fair or even helpful to assign a student extra homework or give them an extra worksheet to do in the name of an enriched background knowledge and a more rigorous curriculum. Extra work is usually perceived as unfair at best and “picking on” the student to single them out at worst. It makes them unhappy, it makes them shut down, and it increases their hatred of the establishment that seems solely created to torture them eight hours a day, five days a week. What we really want to do is open them up to the development of higher-level thinking processes so that their understanding is laid deeper and class time is more productive so we can get in that enrichment that they so desperately need.

One thing that I have noticed in my students is that they have been passed along and marginalized, their grades have been an arcane and illogical device that tends to punish them rather than provide any useful feedback, and they have been made to feel stupid so often that they create layers of prickly armor designed to keep anyone from believing they might care (even a tiny bit) about school. They’re “too cool” to care about school and they show nothing but teeth when you come close, because they’ve been hit before and they don’t want to get hit again.

Okay, so these are sweeping generalizations. I know that, but the point is that frustrating students are frustrating because they seem unreachable. We really want to help them, but they can sometimes be hard to even hold a conversation with. One thing that I have noticed about my students is that, aside from the adolescent need to test boundaries, they honestly don’t believe in themselves. They have no academic self-esteem.

Quite often I will have a student raise their hand, point to a question, and tell me they don’t “get it”. If I rephrase the question, or break it down into smaller parts, the student can usually give me the answer without too much of a problem. If I move on at that point, however, I might get the same question again later because the student “didn’t know what to write”. Sometimes after they tell me their answer I’ll say, “So write that.” Shocked expressions.

It seems to me like the students don’t have confidence in their own thoughts. In their minds, “their answer” and “the right answer” are two different things and never the twain shall meet. They have trouble articulating themselves on paper, as if they just don’t think their thoughts are worth the white space. They don’t seem to understand that even an incomplete answer is better than no answer and that we can see where their thoughts were headed even if they can’t.

One thing that I would like to do when I have my own classroom, if I have a group of kids like these again, is begin the year with exercises to develop their thinking and articulation.

Articulation on Paper:

When students can tell you the answer to a question, but ask what to write down, I think there is either a hangup about putting their thoughts down, or they don’t know how to put their stream of consciousness into sentences. One thing I’d like to try is to ask them a series of simple, silly questions that might prompt the sort of articulation problems that they sometimes have with science questions. For example, I might ask them to write an answer to  ”When you pour yourself a bowl of cereal with milk, how do you decide how much milk to pour in?”.

It’s a silly question that, odds are, they’ve never had to answer on paper before. They could probably tell me an answer having to do with seeing the milk, waiting for the cereal to float, or even counting off seconds, but they might not know how to make sentences out of it on paper.

Thinking Skills:

I’m not going to say too much about this, because there are many more comprehensive guides on how to teach skills like inferring and evaluating. What I’m going to say about these here is that there should be a good chunk of time up front devoted to smaller puzzles. Not “easy” puzzles, but smaller ones. The students need to know that they can think and that we believe in their ability to think.

If getting a make over and taking some glamour shots can show a person with body-image issues that they can be beautiful, then perhaps showing a perpetually-struggling student that they can be smart can help give them the academic confidence they need to try; even just a little, even just for you. I believe it can be hard to give students they enrichment they need because they are too jaded to open up to it. The student who refuses to work is probably the one who needs it most.

They’ve heard “There are no stupid questions” before. They’ve heard “There is no right or wrong answer”. They don’t believe it. Your job is to put your money where your mouth is and show them that you believe in them.

http://www.sciencecookiecutters.com/

So there we are in “Learning and Instruction” covering a unit on how to teach creativity. Teach creativity? Right. Sure, there are lots of ways to go about it, but this is a lecture class so all we’re really talking about is poster projects for little kids and we few secondary majors aren’t really getting much usable material.

Soon we’re done with the lecture portion and moving to a discussion phase where we’re supposed to discuss a possible creative project “that we would teach”. Now, because we’re secondary and because there’s few of us and we’re in dramatically different disciplines we’ve got a table of one math teacher, one english teacher, and one blogging science teacher.

We’re discussing different ways that we could go about this within our subjects when the it hits us all at the same time…

Go go interdisciplinary powers ACTIVATE! Form of: cookies!

So we’re going to find cookie recipes. They’re going to be analyzed for similar elements and we’re going to learn how baking works. We’re also going to talk about measurements, volume, mass, and temperature. And maybe, if we wanted to be evil, we could make them use only one measuring cup, or only measure by weight. (Muahaha!)

For the math aspect, we’re going to make each group of students responsible for a certain number of cookies that isn’t the batch size of the recipe. This will work into multiplication and division of fractions. They can also double dip on measurement and conversions.

English will develop marketing materials and slogans, and write contrastive essays about the cookies they try.

Social studies… could look into the history of cookie making, cultural recipes, or world cookie markets. Hey, we don’t know what they’re studying right now!

In any case, I think I can see the appeal of project-based schools. Ohh yeah. This could be huge. This is amazing. You guys are so smart!

So I’ve been doing a lot of searching around for Standards-based grading lately and I just thought I’d jot down the shorthand framework for what I’ve found. This is simplistic. It’s meant to be simplistic, both in the content of the steps and the “lessons”. This is pretty much my notes from the IAS fall conference session on the topic and a way for me to easily refer people who ask me about my new fervor for the subject to a “process” written out in short form. Basically, to make my life easier.

The Breakdown:

1) Identify the State or National standards associated with your planned unit.

Example:

From the NSES, grade 5-8 Physical science: “Properties and changes of properties in matter”

2) Break each standard down into “Learning Goals”.

Example:

“Properties and changes of properties in matter” can be broken down into “Can name states of matter and phase changes, understands the differences between states of matter and phase changes, can apply states and changes in critical thinking problems.”

3) Create inquiry activities, lecture, homework, or whatever else floats your boat to handle each learning goal.

Example:

“Can name states of matter” and “understands the differences between states of matter” could be grouped together into an introductory activity where you figure out where your students are in their initial understanding and let them play with water, do demonstrations with dry ice, and let them come up with their own examples of states and state changes. This is teaching, just do what you do!

4) Set up a system where each learning goal is like an “assignment” under the standard as a “unit” for grading. Grade for comprehension on a 1-4, 1-5, 1-10, etc. scale.

Example:

5) Allow retests as comprehension increases.

Congratulations! You just graded by standards! Be patient. Just like all students don’t take to inquiry like ducks to water, not all of them like the idea of living without a safety net of homework grade fluff… But hey, we’re here to shake ‘em up and make ‘em think, right?

My school was invaded today.

There I was in the student union getting set to have my usual college breakfast of PBJ and milk, trying to check out when the invaders started to pour through the doors in veritable hordes.

That’s right, high school had come to visit.

Okay, okay, all dramatics aside there were an awful lot of high school kids that came today and I realized a few minutes in that I was launching into a sort of haughty disdain for all of these “kids” who were coming to my place of relative adult interest and indulging in the usual sort of cafeteria antics. That was when I decided to stop and try to figure out why.

See, I was feeling “adult”. The problem is, “adult” is not something that is easily defined; and in fact, it tends to change based on who you happen to be with at the time. I feel adult around high school kids for sure, and even around many of my fellow college students (being at least a few years older than my peers at that “Non-traditional student” stage). I also fully anticipate feeling adult around people who are 25 when I’m 30, and I remember feeling adult around younger children when I was measurably more developed than them.

Think of it like this: when you’re born, you’re turned out into a nice shallow bowl of a playpen to enjoy while your parents have the dubious privilege of caring to your every need and teaching you how to live in your culture. As you develop more and more you start to get curious about what’s beyond the lip of the bowl you’re in and start to head out toward the edges to peer over it. This being a magical, metaphorical bowl however, it’s impossible to get to the edge. The bowl widens, the scenery becomes broader, but the steady incline remains.

Each scientifically measured and labeled stage of child development is like a ring of stairs, or even sheer walls with ladders set into the incline where the slope gets much, much steeper for a time and having recently gained the upper limit and returning to a gentler slope for a time you can turn and look down upon those younger children who are still struggling on the ladder or down in the bowl and you can know that what you’re seeing now is much vaster than they imagined when they started the climb. You, though, you’re at a better vantage point and you can see how much bigger it is.

The unique problem of the bowl, however, is that you can easily see how much ground you’ve covered and how much more space there is, but there will always be that dang hill in front of you that prevents you from seeing beyond a few steps in front of you, and therefore the climb must always continue.

I think teenagers in high school are in an even more interesting situation. When you begin that final climb through biological development, it’s almost as if the walls are now angling in. You can look up and see that spot of daylight overhead, but the only way to get there is a set of ladder rungs stuck into the wall. The world narrows around you and you know with even more certainty than before that all those children in the bowl below haven’t even considered how hard life could be now. Rather obviously, adulthood lies out that spot of light and every new rung under your feet is another lesson learned. You can see all the area of the bowl below you, and that grants you authority of knowledge and perspective on any subject in your purview… which is everything. Obviously. Like, duh.

But then, at some point after you leave the house, miss a bill payment and get one of the pink letters, or even just when you decide once to go to bed early you stop, dumbfounded, and realize that you’re a real adult now. Sometime or other you passed through the hole and didn’t even notice it because you’re still climbing. And while older adults may find occasions to feel superior to you, it matters less now because you’ve all realized together that the hill is never going to level out, and that’s okay- that’s life.

Now, this is only a working theory of a metaphor, and like all generalizations is subject to failure in certain areas of detail, but I think the point of all this rambling and the way that it can actually come back to the topic of teaching is that we should always keep in mind that not only were we once there where are students were… we are ourselves still climbing the bowl, and I think the realization of this is the tipping point out of adolescence. Furthermore, we should always keep in mind the point of the climb that each student is at and how it will alter their view of the world and also that, as teachers and parents, we are the ones who are putting in the stairs, and hammering in the ladder rungs. That we are providing the means for each student to make their way through the world, to continue development whether the realize we’re there or not.

That’s hard. I mean, I could tell you all the things I want to do, but trying to get everything summed up in four sentences or less? That’s rough.

I started a couple of different times but they tended to sound either too broad, too idealistic, or too melodramatic. This one I like, though. It’s still broad, and idealistic, and melodramatic… but they’re somewhat balanced against each other, and I thought it sounded like a good mission statement.

Without further ado:

“As a teacher, I hope to shake up the preconceived notions of which subjects are the “hard” ones. I want to personalize and diversify the learning experience so every day is different. I aim to teach students to understand material in a way that sits deeply; not to be tossed carelessly aside at the end of the semester, but used as firm foundation for future learning.

My teaching toolbox is full with a number of skills and talents that I can use to acquit myself well in service. I have a deep love of my subjects and the tenacity to strive every day to reach students and inspire them to love the subjects as well. I have a well of creativity spawned from participation in art and theatre that allows me a limitless number of approaches to a subject, and I have an affinity for new technology that will help me continue to reach my students in ways that are meaningful to them.”

-D. Weber, Application for the College of Education, 2010

The idea is that with this method you have the structure of being able to assign projects yourself with some control over the content and effort put into them, but still allow each student to decide for him- or herself what sounds the most fun. Since you designed them all, they’re still learning something, and fun just means the projects will speak to them more.

What you do is sit down and think about the various things that you could assign to reach out to each student.

• Make a poster or display
• Write an essay
• Read a book
• Perform a skit
• Make a game
• Etc…

Now, rank them in order of varying difficulty and/or how well said project would get the message across, and decide which one or ones you’d really rather have them do and which ones aren’t quite as useful or important, but are maybe more fun.

Lay out a Tic-Tac-Toe board. If you have just one project that you’d rather they did, put it in the center. If you have three more heavily weighted ones, put them across the middle row, and if you manage to have five “favorites” place them as the center cross region like so:

1. Single “best” project.

2. Three “best” projects.

3. Five “best” projects.

There. Now you’ve made yourself a project “flow chart” that you can take and assign to your students. For example 1, the rule is that they can do any line across the board that they want to, so long as the go through the middle. For 2, they must make a line starting on the top and ending on the bottom, and for 3 they can go in any direction they want, so long as the get three in a row.

Based on your own preference, you may want to “theme” a row to be more artistic, more kinesthetic, or more with a language arts theme… You may also decide that you want them to write something and draw something, and arrange them that way.

These can also be further modified. Have a shorter unit? Try experimenting with a “free” space. Maybe you can take suggestions from the students what kinds of projects they’d like to do, and make a basic board with them that you can flesh out with details later… the sky is the limit, really!

On the other hand, one’s circumstances are never a guarantee or a death sentence. The only thing that has ultimate control over a student is that student, so we must do everything we can to reach out to students and never give up or give in. To never say, “this one has a bad background, there is nothing more I can do.” To that effect, please take this story as inspiration.

This story was passed to me from the personal experience of one of my mentor teachers:

Joe Schmoe was a quiet student. You know the type, tends to sit by himself, always reading something or doing homework when given free time in class. He didn’t tend to answer questions in class, but if you called on him anyway he’d always know the answer. He always came in with homework done, and you could tell there was a lot of effort put into it.

By the end of the semester he’d acquitted himself well, so well in fact that he’d managed to get every single point available to him that year. The teacher was so impressed by this he felt cause to ask young Joe, “Where do you study? You did very well!” Joe just mumbled something about being late for the bus and squirmed out of the classroom.

The teacher didn’t take this as strange or even think back on it until sometime in the next semester around conference time it came to the attention of the school that the entire first semester Joe had been…homeless.

So remember never to stop trying with a student on the grounds that they just don’t have the background to do well, because if anything becomes important enough to them, there will be a way.

Do I need to explain the purpose of a blog, which will be summarized more concisely in the info box anyway? Do I need to introduce myself to a journal? Do I really need the column for keeping track of the time, or am I missing a column I haven’t even thought of?

In light of this, bear with me please. I will probably repeat information that is more concisely summarized elsewhere, but this is a first after all.

Hello! I’m Dez Weber, currently a student attending a university in Iowa for a degree in Earth Science Teaching… with a little bit of a Math minor thrown in for good measure and hire-ability. Thus far I have finished my first field experience, have arranged test dates for my Praxis exams, and will soon be heading into my second field experience. Right now my plan is to finish out my credits here in Iowa, then request a student teaching placement in Alaska where I can hopefully find a job and get working right away.

I decided I wanted to start a blog to help a) document my experiences as a student teacher and b) gather together all the ideas and research I gather in the process so it doesn’t get forgotten, and hopefully can even be of use to someone else! It just didn’t seem fair that when my professors go to all the work of arranging to have local teachers come in and share ideas, those ideas get trapped in the notebooks of my fellow students, never to see the light of day again.

Here will be stories of reflection from student teaching as well as ideas for assignments and activities both tested and not. Please feel free to use the comments to add ideas, suggest alternates, or leave constructive criticisms; however, I reserve the right to moderate the comments and remove those which are aggressively argumentative, lewd, or otherwise inappropriate. This is professional space here.

There. Now that we all know each other, welcome to CaSO4: Chalk|Dust!

-Dez Weber