My last post was so long I had to rest before doing another one. That previous post described an arduous, mostly calamitous week. Last week was better, but still a strain. Right now I'm seeing three aspects to this job. First is the right temperament and the understanding of how learning happens. This is my strength. I have the right temperament--the right combination of authority and empathy to teach people, big or little. I also have a good understanding of how learning happens and how learning can be structured. This comes not only from my previous teaching experience but from the intervening 20 years of working on educational reform with teachers and others.
Second is a clear curriculum--a plan for the day-to-day lessons that will promote learning on the part of the students. I had no clue about this for a few weeks, but now I feel I understand the LAUSD plan for seventh grade English. I am steadily working my way through the narrative unit which will culminate in the students' own neighborhood narrative. (Unfortunately, the district's periodic assessment is next week, and I'm not finished with the unit, so....well, we'll see what happens.)
The third part is my weak link--actually being able to guide the students to do what you know will teach them. On this point I'm hanging on by my fingernails. I can barely manage to steer them through the lesson. They talk too much, I yell too much. I've recently gotten a couple of good suggestions for quieting them down, so I'm hopeful.
Today was rough, even though it was a short day. I have so much to do in my room and in managing the classes that I was discouraged when class ended. We had an English department meeting after lunch, and it turned my mood around dramatically. For one thing, both the other boys' teachers said they also had a hard time quieting them down enough for discussions, reading, etc. And one of the girls' teachers (Ms. Turner of the beautiful room) said she had these boys last year in 6th grade and found them a real handful. (She also said she felt like a real professional teaching the girls who are much more cooperative and organized.)
I also learned that everyone is behind in the curriculum. Most of the other English teachers are experienced middle school teachers, so they are more on top of the situation. I am learning a lot from them, but they also struggle with the same conditions. It was reassuring to realize that.
So this department meeting was a perfect example of the power of professional collaboration. This school encourages a lot of that. Isolation is a professional hazard for teachers, so strong leadership at a school is needed to bring teachers together to strengthen their strategies or just console each other. So...dare to struggle, dare to win!
I want to take a little detour to tell you about the opera "Boris Godunov" by Modest Mussorgsky. I saw it Saturday as part of the Met Opera Live in HD series. This is a fabulous way to see opera, and "Boris Godunov" blew me away. I had never seen it, although I had heard much of the music. I was not prepared for the raw power of the music and the drama.
Mussorgsky's opera from the late nineteenth century is based on the verse drama of the same name by the great Russian poet, Alexander Pushkin. Both recount the rise and fall of Boris, a great reforming tsar at the beginning the 17th century. Boris is a powerful leader, but conflicted and tormented by paranoia. Russian history and above all the Russian people thunder across the stage in this monumental work. The Met's new production has a mostly Russian cast led by the Valery Gergiev. It was powerfully sung and dramatically staged. I would now rank it up there with other great historical operatic masterpieces such as Verdi's Don Carlo, Rossini's William Tell, and Berlioz's Les Troyens. (Boris will be encored at selected theatres on Wednesday, Nov. 10. Go to Met Live in HD for details.)
So as musical distractions go, Boris was a knockout. These 7th grade boys are nothing compared to the enraged Russian peasantry who turned against their Tsar. Vincero!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Was this the week that was, or what was it anyway?
Friday about 4 pm: Whew! Where to start? This was another hyper-intense week for me at the Young Oak Kim Academy. I am searching for an adequate metaphor. Here are some of the possibilities:
Last weekend of course was the NASSPE conference in Las Vegas. I came home intellectually stimulated—somewhat oppositionally to the nostalgie de la boue (I can’t get this vivid phrase out of my mind!) of the keynote speech by the founder and director of the organization—but also positively energized by the great teachers who led the workshops.
So I am feeling pretty positive on Monday, if a bit fatigued from all of the driving. (Remember that Monday and Thursday are my easy days with a conference period.) Well, Monday is a long, excruciating train wreck. That is the phrase that comes to mind at the end of the day. I feel like I have collided with the speeding freight train of male adolescence. SMASH! CRASH! BOOM! There go my discussion points, reading selections, key terms, flying off into the air. I am devastated and crawl home to lick my wounds.
Tuesday is a bit better. The periods are shorter and end at lunch. I get through my reduced plan and meet with the other English teachers for the afternoon. During this meeting I learn that:
On to Wednesday!
Not too bad. Solid teaching 830-330 with 30 min lunch. Today I feel like Hercules wrestling Antaeus…If I can just lift him off the ground I can subdue him. Through constant effort, prowling around the room, cajoling and admonishing and threatening, I make it through the lessons. Hurray!
Unfortunately I stay until 6 pm entering grades, but still don’t finish and discover that I can take until 6 pm on Thursday to finish them.
Thursday…a day with a conference period…I work feverishly on grades…classes go OK, although first period is a wild group. Most of them had a full hour of detention the day before with our math teacher Ms. Huang, so they were a little chastened, but not much. Again I stay until 6 pm entering grades, caroming between vengeance and encouragement, feeling alternately punitive and indulgent. (I remember this grading ambivalence vividly from my Crenshaw days.)
I am increasingly struck by the significant number of students who are reasonable, willing to work, and eager to discuss the issues of the lesson. I am searching for ways to respond to these students and let them drive the agenda rather than the others—the noisy ones.
I am beginning to wonder if all the talk about how boys behave in class might be defined by this minority of vocal, active, sometimes disruptive boys, while an even larger group of boys have much more moderate personalities that don’t require special techniques. The vocal boys are often very bright and interesting, but they can make it difficult in class because of their lack of self-control. I’ll have to think more about this.
And now Friday (the perfect storm, remember?). Second period is pretty good—we just about get through the selection from Bone Black by bell hooks. Then fourth period (speech elective) is convulsed by a series of irruptive incidents that hurl everyone off into hyper-excitement. They barely finish their speeches about elementary school teachers. The principal even comes in because of one of the incidents—the students are silent in his presence of course.
In advisory we discuss prejudice in all its forms. Not a bad discussion really, but lots of shushing in between comments. Then 6th brings another maelstrom of random activity. (Remember Brownian motion from chemistry class? That’s how I visualize these classes sometimes.) Sixth period is small, only about 25 students, but many have very low literacy skills and very short attention spans, even by the modest standards of 12 year old boys.
Sixth also has the admirable student who is in a wheel chair and doesn’t speak or write, but understands everything and composes assignments using a cumbersome mechanism that allows him to choose letters and words with movements of his head. He has a full time aide. I often marvel at how hard he works to accomplish the simplest assignments.
Sixth period doesn’t go well at all, and I realize I have to reassess my approach to this group.
And…at last…3:24 pm! Chairs up on the tables, most paper picked up, ciao ragazzi!
Whew!
But really nothing is finished. I get a weekend to rest and recuperate, but I still have to push faster with the narrative unit, get them onto the computers, straighten up and decorate my room (which like every other space in my life--car, house, yard, garage, cubicle, office, etc.--is cluttering up) and think about what I can do that’s even more engaging and motivational. I’m even more exhausted just thinking about it.
So, am I making progress? This week didn’t feel like progress. I didn’t feel at all successful this week. The challenge of managing their behavior sufficiently to conduct interesting, productive lessons is still daunting. I can think of lots of authentic educational activities, but I am often brought up short at the prospect of managing the students during these activities. I console myself by thinking that after all I am at 62 more like a new teacher, and of course I don’t know it all and have to learn on the job. So I will of course push forward on Monday with renewed energy, enhanced by enjoying “Le Nozze di Figaro” on Sunday at the L.A. Opera.
Tonight when I leave school I think I will walk up Vermont to eat at one of the Bangladeshi restaurants in the neighborhood. There is a growing Bangladeshi community in the area, and I have a dozen or so Bangladeshi students who suggested some places to eat good Bangladeshi food. Then I will tell my classes about it. We have a little problem with some anti-Moslem name-calling (terrorist, etc.) so I need to bring it up in advisory. I hope you enjoyed reading about my week.
- Roller coaster ride
- Train wreck
- Hercules’ fight with Antaeus
- Walking fast through chest-high water
Last weekend of course was the NASSPE conference in Las Vegas. I came home intellectually stimulated—somewhat oppositionally to the nostalgie de la boue (I can’t get this vivid phrase out of my mind!) of the keynote speech by the founder and director of the organization—but also positively energized by the great teachers who led the workshops.
So I am feeling pretty positive on Monday, if a bit fatigued from all of the driving. (Remember that Monday and Thursday are my easy days with a conference period.) Well, Monday is a long, excruciating train wreck. That is the phrase that comes to mind at the end of the day. I feel like I have collided with the speeding freight train of male adolescence. SMASH! CRASH! BOOM! There go my discussion points, reading selections, key terms, flying off into the air. I am devastated and crawl home to lick my wounds.
Tuesday is a bit better. The periods are shorter and end at lunch. I get through my reduced plan and meet with the other English teachers for the afternoon. During this meeting I learn that:
- Everyone has a hard time getting through the curriculum;
- Ms Turner (8th grade girls English) has a beautiful room filled with books and posters and objets d’art!
- I’d better get ready for the district “periodic assessment” by checking out the sample questions at the district website;
- I have 4 weeks to finish the unit on narrative because expository has to start in November;
- Grades have to be entered online by 6 pm Wednesday;
- I really like Ms Turner’s room!
- The MEN’S room on the 3rd floor (Girls Academy) has a floral print on the wall and a little table with a vase of flowers and a newspaper, in stark contrast to the men’s room on the Boys Academy floor.
- Girls are not actually perfect in class, but they are probably easier to manage than boys (maybe only because they’re more mature).
On to Wednesday!
Not too bad. Solid teaching 830-330 with 30 min lunch. Today I feel like Hercules wrestling Antaeus…If I can just lift him off the ground I can subdue him. Through constant effort, prowling around the room, cajoling and admonishing and threatening, I make it through the lessons. Hurray!
Unfortunately I stay until 6 pm entering grades, but still don’t finish and discover that I can take until 6 pm on Thursday to finish them.
Thursday…a day with a conference period…I work feverishly on grades…classes go OK, although first period is a wild group. Most of them had a full hour of detention the day before with our math teacher Ms. Huang, so they were a little chastened, but not much. Again I stay until 6 pm entering grades, caroming between vengeance and encouragement, feeling alternately punitive and indulgent. (I remember this grading ambivalence vividly from my Crenshaw days.)
I am increasingly struck by the significant number of students who are reasonable, willing to work, and eager to discuss the issues of the lesson. I am searching for ways to respond to these students and let them drive the agenda rather than the others—the noisy ones.
I am beginning to wonder if all the talk about how boys behave in class might be defined by this minority of vocal, active, sometimes disruptive boys, while an even larger group of boys have much more moderate personalities that don’t require special techniques. The vocal boys are often very bright and interesting, but they can make it difficult in class because of their lack of self-control. I’ll have to think more about this.
And now Friday (the perfect storm, remember?). Second period is pretty good—we just about get through the selection from Bone Black by bell hooks. Then fourth period (speech elective) is convulsed by a series of irruptive incidents that hurl everyone off into hyper-excitement. They barely finish their speeches about elementary school teachers. The principal even comes in because of one of the incidents—the students are silent in his presence of course.
In advisory we discuss prejudice in all its forms. Not a bad discussion really, but lots of shushing in between comments. Then 6th brings another maelstrom of random activity. (Remember Brownian motion from chemistry class? That’s how I visualize these classes sometimes.) Sixth period is small, only about 25 students, but many have very low literacy skills and very short attention spans, even by the modest standards of 12 year old boys.
Sixth also has the admirable student who is in a wheel chair and doesn’t speak or write, but understands everything and composes assignments using a cumbersome mechanism that allows him to choose letters and words with movements of his head. He has a full time aide. I often marvel at how hard he works to accomplish the simplest assignments.
Sixth period doesn’t go well at all, and I realize I have to reassess my approach to this group.
And…at last…3:24 pm! Chairs up on the tables, most paper picked up, ciao ragazzi!
Whew!
But really nothing is finished. I get a weekend to rest and recuperate, but I still have to push faster with the narrative unit, get them onto the computers, straighten up and decorate my room (which like every other space in my life--car, house, yard, garage, cubicle, office, etc.--is cluttering up) and think about what I can do that’s even more engaging and motivational. I’m even more exhausted just thinking about it.
So, am I making progress? This week didn’t feel like progress. I didn’t feel at all successful this week. The challenge of managing their behavior sufficiently to conduct interesting, productive lessons is still daunting. I can think of lots of authentic educational activities, but I am often brought up short at the prospect of managing the students during these activities. I console myself by thinking that after all I am at 62 more like a new teacher, and of course I don’t know it all and have to learn on the job. So I will of course push forward on Monday with renewed energy, enhanced by enjoying “Le Nozze di Figaro” on Sunday at the L.A. Opera.
Tonight when I leave school I think I will walk up Vermont to eat at one of the Bangladeshi restaurants in the neighborhood. There is a growing Bangladeshi community in the area, and I have a dozen or so Bangladeshi students who suggested some places to eat good Bangladeshi food. Then I will tell my classes about it. We have a little problem with some anti-Moslem name-calling (terrorist, etc.) so I need to bring it up in advisory. I hope you enjoyed reading about my week.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Improved technique or nostalgie de la boue?
(Thoughts at the end of the conference) I’ve come to Las Vegas for the 6th annual conference of the National Association for Single Sex Public Education (NASSPE). Several hundred teachers, administrators, and teacher educators have gathered to discuss single gender education. My informal impression is that most of them are from schools that are trying out some single sex classrooms. Some teachers I spoke to taught a couple of boy classes and a couple of girl classes. There were a couple of private boys schools represented. There weren’t many schools that were entirely single gender like YOKA.
The opening speaker was Leonard Sax, the director of the organization and one of the intellectual forces behind the single gender movement. I had expected to hear about the latest brain research that studied the differences between male and female brains and learning, but instead Dr. Sax made an eloquent plea for a return to the “Community of Men” and “Community of Women” that socialized boys and girls into their roles in society. He mentioned sewing circles and working on cars as examples of what adult women and men taught to girls and boys. (Can you guess who learned which skill?)
This made me a little uneasy since in addition to sewing and fixing engines this socialization also included the admonition to obey the husband and make him a beautiful home (girls) and the authorization to bring home the bacon and beat the wife if she got out of line (boys). (Not to mention the transmitted views of homosexuality.)
Then I got really uncomfortable when he cited two cultures that had lasted because they had clear definitions of the roles of men and women: Orthodox Judaism and Navajo culture. I don’t know much about Navajo culture, nor about Orthodox Judaism, but I do know that the latter is virulently sexist and homophobic.
These less savory historical features didn’t dim the rosy glow, the nostalgie de la boue, presented in his speech. For me he crossed over from the goal of finding the best way to teach the same standards and content to both genders to a mission to resurrect a past that exalted men and oppressed women. That’s not what I signed on for, and I don’t think it’s the prevailing attitude at my school (Young Oak Kim Academy).
The other workshops at the conference were much more practical and focused on strategies and techniques for reaching boys and girls. The best aspect of these presentations was the chance to hear from very effective teachers who had extensive experience in single gender education. It’s always inspiring and informative to listen to great teachers.
I learned a lot about brain differences and behavioral differences that suggested divergent techniques for teaching. There seemed to be agreement that it was harder to get boys to use teamwork, that boys didn’t hear as well, and that boys‘ brains were stronger in spatial manipulation than reading and writing skills. I went to one workshop that emphasized the importance of movement for both boys and girls. Another stressed the efficacy of small group learning environments.
All in all it was a useful conference. It was clear that there are no sure fire techniques that never fail, but I still learned a lot about different ways to improve my teaching. I came away with a bunch of suggestions and a greater overall understanding of the potential benefits and pitfalls of single gender education. Here are some caveats to this trend:
The opening speaker was Leonard Sax, the director of the organization and one of the intellectual forces behind the single gender movement. I had expected to hear about the latest brain research that studied the differences between male and female brains and learning, but instead Dr. Sax made an eloquent plea for a return to the “Community of Men” and “Community of Women” that socialized boys and girls into their roles in society. He mentioned sewing circles and working on cars as examples of what adult women and men taught to girls and boys. (Can you guess who learned which skill?)
This made me a little uneasy since in addition to sewing and fixing engines this socialization also included the admonition to obey the husband and make him a beautiful home (girls) and the authorization to bring home the bacon and beat the wife if she got out of line (boys). (Not to mention the transmitted views of homosexuality.)
Then I got really uncomfortable when he cited two cultures that had lasted because they had clear definitions of the roles of men and women: Orthodox Judaism and Navajo culture. I don’t know much about Navajo culture, nor about Orthodox Judaism, but I do know that the latter is virulently sexist and homophobic.
These less savory historical features didn’t dim the rosy glow, the nostalgie de la boue, presented in his speech. For me he crossed over from the goal of finding the best way to teach the same standards and content to both genders to a mission to resurrect a past that exalted men and oppressed women. That’s not what I signed on for, and I don’t think it’s the prevailing attitude at my school (Young Oak Kim Academy).
The other workshops at the conference were much more practical and focused on strategies and techniques for reaching boys and girls. The best aspect of these presentations was the chance to hear from very effective teachers who had extensive experience in single gender education. It’s always inspiring and informative to listen to great teachers.
I learned a lot about brain differences and behavioral differences that suggested divergent techniques for teaching. There seemed to be agreement that it was harder to get boys to use teamwork, that boys didn’t hear as well, and that boys‘ brains were stronger in spatial manipulation than reading and writing skills. I went to one workshop that emphasized the importance of movement for both boys and girls. Another stressed the efficacy of small group learning environments.
All in all it was a useful conference. It was clear that there are no sure fire techniques that never fail, but I still learned a lot about different ways to improve my teaching. I came away with a bunch of suggestions and a greater overall understanding of the potential benefits and pitfalls of single gender education. Here are some caveats to this trend:
- Attempts to define how boys and girls learn differently can lead to better teaching practices tailored to the strengths of each group.
- Many boys and girls don’t fit the mold of divergent learning styles based on gender, and these differences are a gradation between extremes with a large overlap.
- Generalizations about how boys and girls learn differently must not become rules or expectations to impose on them.
- The vast areas of commonality between boys and girls based on developmental and social factors must always drive the major part of curriculum and instruction.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Too much to do, too little time, too long the drive before I sleep.
Another Friday, sans conference period, and I’m near collapse at 3:24 when the bell rings. These Fridays are a perfect storm: I and my team have no conference period (because of the otherwise sound block scheduling), the 7th grade boys don’t have PE today (so we took them out to the basketball courts for part of advisory), and it’s Friday!
So I barely manage to stumble across the finish line with dignity intact and voice audible. I know everyone feels like this at this point. I have vivid memories of 1975 when I was hired to teach English at Crenshaw HS in south Los Angeles by the principal Sid Thompson. (Years later I would hire Sid as Superintendent while I was on the Board. LAUSD is just a village after all.)
Anyway, I remember that in 1975 I was bone tired, exhausted, drained of energy after a day or a week teaching. Then of course I really didn’t know what I was doing. Now I have an inkling, but much remains to be put back in place.
That process of rebuilding my expertise got a big boost this week when I went to a training on the narrative unit in English 7. I think the District curriculum is very good. It’s student centered and constructivist, but it still covers the main standards intensively. It aims to give the students an authentic experience of reading and writing narratives, and it culminates in a project that asks them to write about their own communities. Now that I grasp the big picture and the specific lessons of this curriculum I feel more confident in the day-to-day work we will be doing.
This still leaves me with the job of managing the behavior of the students, so I can take them through the various steps of the curriculum that will leave them with a deeper understanding of what narrative is. That management will be aided by my new clarity on the lessons, but will also still require more and more little behavioral tricks. And that means more record keeping, an activity which I am constitutionally inept at. And it’ll still be grueling on Fridays!
This also I remember: so much happens so fast in teaching. Now I have grades due next week, and a pre-assessment getting ready for the periodic assessments in a month or so. And I feel pressed to get them working on computers more (who writes on paper these days?).
Tuesday the faculty heard a presentation by Stephen Jimenez of Project 10. I remember the early days of Project 10 when Virginia Uribe started it at Fairfax. As a program aimed at LGBT students it always had controversy swirling around it. Mr. Jimenez’s presentation was engaging and provocative; he focused on the legal liabilities if the district didn’t protect the rights of all students to a safe and secure educational environment no matter what their sexual orientation or gender identity. I was definitely in my comfort zone with that kind of broad policy discussion, but now I have a different, more urgent set of tasks than developing policy—namely, to be ready to teach on the next day.
As soon as I leave school today I’m driving to Las Vegas for the conference of the National Association for Single Sex Public Education. I’m expecting to learn a lot about how to teach these boys in subtly different ways so as to maximize the benefits of separating them from the girls. So far I am comfortable with the division, as are most of the boys. They seem very natural in their high-energy, testosterone driven behaviors. Still I know there is more I can learn in order to reach them more directly with the skills and concepts I want to teach them.
And so it goes. I’m looking forward to a long drive. I hope the traffic isn’t too bad. Maybe I’ll listen to some Mahler, or Ella Fitzgerald, or recent Bob Dylan. I’ll drink coffee steadily and try to get to bed early.
Finally, I want to thank Mr. Cortines for his kind words.
A bientot.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Pastoral interlude
Saturday morning my birding mentor Judith from down the street asked me to join her as she lead a group of students from Leo Politi Elementary School on a bird walk around MacArthur Park. The principal at Politi is also a birder. At about 9 am about 20 students ranging from kindergarten to sixth grade and some parents arrived at the park with the principal. Judith had prepared lists of birds found in the park, and she appointed students to search at ground level and up in the trees.
We began our walk. Right away we saw a bushtit in a tree. Then we studied the birds in the lake--ducks, geese, gulls, a few cormorants--and then...a juvenile black-crowned night heron! Later a bunch of crows, a black phoebe, a wounded gull, some feral parakeets. The principal seized every opportunity to expand their language usage in Spanish and English and to draw information and opinion from the students. After circling the park we gathered for pictures and reviewed what we had seen. The kids had a great time, as did we all. And dear old Leo Politi, whose ageless children's books celebrated the rich diversity of a child's Los Angeles, would have been thrilled.
MacArthur Park is a heavily used urban park, but it is still home to a wide assortment of birds, some permanent and some just passing through. The boat house is closed due to budget cuts, but the fall migration south is still beginning. Right there in the heart of Los Angeles these students got a taste of life in the air, life that might go from Canada to Argentina in a month’s time. What did they learn? They learned to look closely around them and up in the treetops, to search for the details in the world, and to wonder about everything.
Most formal schooling takes place in classrooms, but it’s very important to remember how much learning can happen out in the world. Good schools and good teachers can help that process along. This bird walk was a reminder that we should support learning wherever it happens.
We began our walk. Right away we saw a bushtit in a tree. Then we studied the birds in the lake--ducks, geese, gulls, a few cormorants--and then...a juvenile black-crowned night heron! Later a bunch of crows, a black phoebe, a wounded gull, some feral parakeets. The principal seized every opportunity to expand their language usage in Spanish and English and to draw information and opinion from the students. After circling the park we gathered for pictures and reviewed what we had seen. The kids had a great time, as did we all. And dear old Leo Politi, whose ageless children's books celebrated the rich diversity of a child's Los Angeles, would have been thrilled.
MacArthur Park is a heavily used urban park, but it is still home to a wide assortment of birds, some permanent and some just passing through. The boat house is closed due to budget cuts, but the fall migration south is still beginning. Right there in the heart of Los Angeles these students got a taste of life in the air, life that might go from Canada to Argentina in a month’s time. What did they learn? They learned to look closely around them and up in the treetops, to search for the details in the world, and to wonder about everything.
Most formal schooling takes place in classrooms, but it’s very important to remember how much learning can happen out in the world. Good schools and good teachers can help that process along. This bird walk was a reminder that we should support learning wherever it happens.
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