Play in (High) Schools?

This morning I came across an article in my Facebook feed titled "How Finland Keeps Kids Focused Through Free Play." We often talk about, and argue for, recess for K-5 students, but I started thinking about my own teaching and the high school schedule in terms of recess or play time. There is none. And I am guilty of it, too. Schools instituted block scheduling so there would be more time for learning, and as teachers on block schedule we know to vary our activities in order to keep kids awake and focused. But, is that enough? I wonder after reading this article. I feel the pressure to get it all done, and I have come to the conclusion that no matter how many days or hours I am allotted to teach I WILL NEVER GET IT ALL DONE. There. I said it. So, what would be the harm in giving my students a 10-15 minute break halfway though each period. Food for thought as I continue to eat humble pie this summer . . .

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.