Accountability and Classroom Control

This morning's read was a book I've owned for close to 10 years but never found time to read, and I was missing a gem: Kathleen Andrasick's Opening Texts: Using Writing to Teach Literature (1990, Heinemann).

As I reflect on my own teaching and the curricula I am given to "teach," I can only assert that I must do things differently this year. And, I must keep this section of text in mind each and every time I plan, asses, and reflect. I quote directly from pages 17 and 18: As Peter Elbow suggests, "much teaching behavior stems from an unwarranted fear of things falling apart" (1986, 71-72). A classroom centered around the teacher dispensing wisdom and information, then evaluating student assimilation of that information, feels like a quiet, safe place to work, a place where nothing can fall apart. And it is--for the teacher, who is in control, who knows exactly what will happen next and how, because he or she is making it happen. It is not such a safe place for students, however. They are being directed by forces over which they have no control (the teacher, the text, and the curriculum, for example). Furthermore, they have little or no control over classroom events, not even over the topic of discussion or its direction. For students, things often fall apart. They encounter surprise quizzes, questions they have never considered and for which they have no answers, and tasks for which they have had little or no training. At school, they confront the risk of embarrassment and failure hourly. We should not need to be told that the tension and discomfort (and perhaps fear) that students feel deflect their attention from learning. Common sense tells us that the context we create for students affects their thinking; classroom context can limit as well as empower learning."

Humble Pie

Okay, so maybe it is not as extreme as eating humble pie (which according to definitions is extreme humiliation), but the phrase is fitting as pie--like any other food--offers our bodies calories to use to perform. My journey as a teacher--especially as a high school teacher--continually offers up slices of humble pie. Just when I think I am finally "getting it," along comes a book, or blog posting, or twitter post, or Facebook link to show me just how little I actually know. As I work on planning for the next school year I think to myself, "Oh, that was a good lesson (or unit) that I taught." And then there's Jeff Wilhelm or Kelly Gallagher or Carol Jago or Tom Newkirk or Penny Kittle or many others to remind me that I was kind of fooling myself. And then, I have to hit the books (some of them for a third time) to try to make sense of what I did in order to figure out what I need to do next to improve. There are some outside of education that proclaim that teaching is instinct, that anyone could do it, that knowing your subject is all that matters, and maybe for a rare few teachers that is true. Poof! Lessons work magically and students shine brightly. Or, maybe that is just what they tell themselves . . . What most outside of education do not understand is how being a reflective teacher--and I stress that word--is tough and can beat you down. If. You. Pay. Attention. We want our students to do the work of learning, and we have to do it with them. Even when it hurts. This kind of pain is good. It means that we recognize something lacking. However, by feeling it we can address it. We can make it better. Humble pie doesn't taste so good, but it is nourishing and gives the nutrients and sustenance we need to keep moving and growing.

Re-reading a "classic"

Part of my summer must-do list is reading/re-reading a stack of professional development books I purchased over the years. Now that the first year back is under my belt, I want to be more organized and thoughtful about how and what I teach. That means going back to books I meant to read or think I need to revisit. Why? Nearly every day last year I found myself almost frozen with indecision: how should I teach writing?; how should I incorporate vocabulary; which reading strategy should I use to teach _______? Maybe that's the curse of being a teacher--there are always going to be a myriad of ways to teach. I want to be the best that I can for my students, and that means I cannot remember that I, too, am a lifelong learner. Today's book was Carol Jago's (2000)With Rigor for All: Teaching the Classics to Contemporary Students. One paragraph really struck me. "Every time teachers of literature give an objective test, they undermine their students' confidence in themselves as readers. The very act of posing questions whose answers will be judged as correct or incorrect sends wrong messages to students: that there is only one right answer, that their teacher is the source of all correct information in a classroom, and that the purpose of reading is to answer questions. Unless this set of beliefs is what we want to encourage, we must abandon all tests forever" (p. 97). As I was reading this I couldn't help but think of our nation's (and state's) obsession with standardized tests. We are equating reading with one test--a test that determines a whether or not a student gets a real diploma or a "certificate" that says he/she attended high school. Why on God's green earth are we doing this to kids?

Summer?

Ah, the proverbial "summer vacation," where my K-12 colleagues and I get paid to go to the beach, eat bon bond, and pretty much do nothing but mooch off tax payers. Yeah right! I realized yesterday that school starts again in two months. Yes, two months! And that is giving us around 10 more days than we had last summer. And, I also realized that I need more than two months! I have so much work to do to prepare for my new courses--courses which have some pretty high-stakes attached to them. You know that moment at the buffet when you are really, really hungry and there are like 10 stations of food to choose from? Well, that's me. And, life is certainly not a beach right now.