If It's Summer, Shouldn't I Be Somewhere Else?

I signed up to "teach" the incoming pre-IB Summer Bridge program, which was developed to assist these kids in their transition to high school.  An amazing number showed up -- 36 of the total of 45 or so who are enrolled in the program -- and I enjoyed the week of talking about stuff I find interesting in mathematics to a group of kids who are clearly interested in learning, even if math isn't their favorite subject.  I mention this only because it explains why I was wandering around on campus last week...

So Mrs. D (who is teaching summer school because her youngest child needs braces) and I were coming back from lunch when we noticed that a bunch of textbooks had been delivered to the school, and were sitting outside the book room, in the open air hallway.  (Note:  The school is surrounded by an 8 ft chain link fence, with perhaps 6 gates which are locked (but easily scalable - a fact I know because I've been locked in twice) during the evening but open during the day.  The books were in an area that is not far from the gate in front of the student parking lot.)  Mrs. D wondered aloud if those were the new math texts, and I said we should go find out.  So we went over to the pile and found several boxes clearly labeled as Algebra II texts.  We also noticed that a box of history books was open, so we opened a box of math texts.  As we perused the book, the book lady walked through another hallway, and shouted to us from about 40 feet away, asking what we were doing.  When we told her, she began heatedly saying we're not supposed to "take" books, and that she often ends up short of books because several of them have "walked away."  We left, and that was, I believed, the end of it.

Mrs. D, however, was offended, feeling we had been accused of stealing.  So she wrote an email to the book lady apologizing for opening the books, while also trying to justify the action (the open history book box, weren't going to take them, etc.)  Apparently Book Lady emailed back, and basically reiterated her contention that we were a threat to walk off with "her" books.  Mrs. D wrote her back; the note was nice, and the thrust of it was just that she would never take a textbook without asking, and that wasn't what she was doing.  All very middle-schoolish, but hey, what else is there to do in the summer?

So that would probably have been the end of it, but apparently, Book Lady was irritated enough to send a note to the new Vice Principal, whom I shall forever more refer to as "Tempest" (as in "... in a Teapot").  My guess is that Book Lady sent the email to Ms. Tempest prior to the exchange of emails with Mrs. D, but don't really know.  Anyway, Ms. Tempest sends a very snotty note to Mrs. D and copies me (why wouldn't I be a co-addressee?) essentially reiterating the "we can't trust you" theme.  Mrs. D and Ms. Tempest exchange a couple of additional emails, with Ms. Tempest getting snottier by the moment.  To this point, I had stayed out of it, figuring I couldn't do any good.  But the Tempest notes to Mrs. D were incredibly annoying, particularly given that Mrs. D has been teaching at MHS longer than Ms. Tempest has been alive.

So I finally waded in, and sent her an email (copying the principal) noting that the "crime" she's berating us for was the desire to see the textbooks we'll be using in August -- something I'd think she'd want us to want to do -- and that if she or Book Lady are concerned about pilferage then they should probably try to find a way not to leave the books out in the unprotected hallway for 3 days.  In response, I got a note about how we'll get the books in plenty of time to prepare (not my point), that the Book Lady didn't have a choice about leaving the books outside (not my point, but now that you mention it, why not?) and that it is never appropriate for anyone to open mail that isn't addressed specifically to them.  Riiiiiiiight.  That's what we were doing -- snooping through the mail.  Then she talked about the need for professionalism, something she clearly implied I lacked, by virtue of being willing to open someone else's mail.  (She hammered this point about 3 times).  I have a tremendous desire to fire back a really scalding response.  I'm going to suppress it.  Not because she is, in some ways, my boss, or even because I'm afraid it will get me in trouble with someone I actually respect, but mainly because I'm pretty sure she's not bright enough to recognize a cogent argument if she hears one.

It could be a long year.

That said, I can't wait to get it started... I think the classes could be really good.

Building Bridges to Nowhere

I'm teaching a weeklong "summer bridge" program to incoming freshmen who expect to enroll in the IB curriculum, and will be teaching those same students when school starts in late August (which cometh, and right soon). Bad news: my attempt to show them the beauty of mathematics has led to a lot of blank stares. Good news: they seem like they're going to be pretty good students. And a few of them may even come to enjoy mathematics. It will be interesting to see what the rest of my students are like.

On a side note... To make a "gain" on the state-mandated end-of-year exam, a student must go up a level from the previous year, or gain a minimum number of points without going up a level, or (and this is the kicker) maintain their level if they were at or above grade level the previous year. Put another way, kids at or above grade level could actually LOSE points and still be counted as a gain, whereas kids below grade level had to make significant gains (even bigger ones on a percentage basis) to be counted as having made a "gain." Teachers are judged based on how many of their students make gains. Administrators and most teachers have no concept of the fact that a significant factor in what percentage of your kids make gains is what percentage of them start out below grade level.

Last year I had, by far, the most students who were below grade level of any of the math teachers. Unsurprisingly, I had one of the worst scores for students making gains. I'd make a ruckus about this among my administration, but two other things are also true: I've been given the courses I wanted to teach this year, so it's somewhat difficult to claim I've been wronged, and (perhaps more importantly), even when you factor out the bias due to a high percentage of below-level students, I still had miserable results. I have a number of ready-made excuses for that, but the fact is, I'm essentially unconcerned about last year's results (except that I feel bad for the students who didn't pass but would have with another teacher), and am focused on this year.

And this year, virtually every single one of my students is at or above grade level. Of course, this year, the state is also messing around with how the state-mandated testing will occur, so it's going to be somewhat hard to compare people's scores either to previous years or to other teachers if they aren't teaching the same course and the same class of students (i.e., freshmen or sophomores). I have enough other things to worry about this year without adding concern about their test scores on the state exam, but I'm expecting them to do very well. In part because they're much better students than I had last year. But also in large part because I expect to be significantly more adept at incorporating the skills they'll need for the test into the course.

Anyway, they seem like they're pretty bright, and more importantly, willing to work. Stay tuned.

Must Love Math

Yeah, I know I've used (almost) that same title before - consider this the American release of the British film of (almost) the same name. By the way... if "maths" seems like a goofy thing to say in a sentence like "I studied maths at university," consider what it's short for. (If you're currently cringing at my sentence-ending preposition, take this, you scurvy dog!) Also, I welcome any opportunity I might get to promote Diane Lane, however obliquely.

My friend L (who also teaches math at MHS) and I were recently relaxing poolside reading books when we spotted a fellow MHS teacher and mutual friend. We walked over to her, and she asked what we were reading. Upon hearing the title of the book L was reading, she engaged in a lively discussion of the book, the upcoming movie and other related items with L. She then turned to me and asked what I was reading. I showed her my book, entitled What is Mathematics, whereupon she sneered at me and turned back to continue her conversation with L. L gave our friend an apologetic shrug, as if to say "Yes, he's odd, but he's the best I could do."

Which brings me to the point of this post. I think math is sublimely beautiful. Not just fun, or interesting. Truly staggering, on the scale of the Grand Canyon.

[Warning: serious math content to follow.]

For example, I've been playing around with Pascal's Triangle, a neat little mathematical device that enables you to know the coefficient of any term of a binomial expansion (i.e., the expansion of (a + b)^n for any power of n). More relevantly, perhaps, but equivalently, you can use it like a chart or table to look up, say, the probability of tossing a coin 10 times and having it land heads-up exactly twice. Then there's something called the Sierpinski Triangle, which is a construct in fractal geometry that enables you to create a geometric shape with arbitrarily large perimeter and arbitrarily small area by cutting equilateral triangles out of the middle of larger equilateral triangles. It, and many other fractal constructions (particularly in higher dimensions) are beautiful in themselves, as abstract art. Anyway, it turns out that the two triangles, created in totally different ways for completely different reasons over 300 years apart and on first inspection having absolutely nothing to do with one another, are related in an incredibly surprising and fundamental way.

[It's safe to go back in the water, now. No more actual math content.]

I was trying to explain to another friend why I think it's important for math teachers to like mathematics, and am afraid I didn't do a particularly good job. It's actually a little depressing that it even made sense to have the conversation in the first place -- I mean, don't all math teachers like math? Unfortunately, no, not by a wide margin. Half of the staff at my high school never took a math class past calculus, and most of them didn't even take calculus. They were education majors, got certified to teach middle school math because that's where the jobs were, then moved to high school teaching Geometry and Algebra I because those qualify as middle school subjects, and eventually struggled through their high school certification by acing all the lower level questions and skipping all the trig and calculus questions on the test. They've given me enough blank stares when I talked about non-Euclidean geometry or interesting problems in differential equations that I've stopped mentioning them. I can't even talk about math around most of the math teachers; they aren't interested. (Mrs. CowCulus and Mrs. D are exceptions, but there are desperately few others.

English teachers love to read, right? Science teachers love science, don't they? As a country, we suck at math. Is it because even our math teachers hated the subject? And by the way, most of our math teachers think math is all about memorizing equations, trying to memorize when to use which equation, plugging in the numbers required to solve the equation, and solving it. Hell, NOBODY likes that. Well, maybe engineers do. But it sure isn't mathematics. If you told a mathematician he'd have to do that for the rest of his working life, he'd blow his brains out. Of course, as a school district, we suck even more at English, and I've already made the claim that English teachers love reading. So maybe my argument is flawed. But my complaint isn't - I'd like to be able to talk about mathematics without having people roll their eyes at me, and that doesn't seem to be possible even when I'm among (most) math teachers.

End of complaint

Generosity, or "Sometimes, you just have to ask."

As noted in an earlier post, I'll be teaching AP Statistics in the fall. I pushed for the assignment with both the Math Department head and the principal, and now I get to wonder if I should have been careful what I wished for. Still, I'm very excited about the opportunity. Only one person from MHS in the past 6 years has passed the AP Stats exam, and only a couple of others have even scored a 2. I believe I can do better, but of course, I have to prove that.

One thing I wanted to do immediately after I got the assignment was to go to a summer institute course for new teachers of AP Stats, to learn some techniques and methodologies that would benefit my students in their attempt to pass the exam. It cost $650, and was to be held at a local college here in My Town. So I asked the principal to send me, and he said the school didn't have the money. That ticked me off.

So I decided to ask my friends for donations in order that I could do things like attend the summer institute, purchase graphing calculators for the students who couldn't afford them, and buy other miscellaneous items I will need to help the students pass the exam.

So far, I have commitments for $650, and I have a meeting next week with a senior executive at the company where I used to work, to discuss having the class work on a project for him. That discussion will, of course, include conversation about a donation, either personally from him or from the company, or both. I expect to get a significant contribution stemming from that meeting. In addition, I mentioned my quest to my daughter, who replied that she had a perfectly good graphing calculator she would never use again, having already graduated from college (and law school). Moreover, she was sure most of her friends did, too. She posted her (my) request for graphing calculators on Facebook earlier today, and is already receiving responses.

So it looks like I'll be able to provide my students the tools they'll need to be successful. Now, it's up to them to learn the material. And, of course, me, to teach it.

Summer's Over? Already?

I'm sitting in my new classroom, supposedly preparing for the IB Summer Bridge program -- a weeklong introduction to MHS for the incoming pre-IB students. This is my first official workday related to the 2010 - 2011 year, so I guess the summer is over, although after today, I still have about 2 1/2 weeks completely free, and 3 other weeks in which the workload will be pretty light, before school officially begins. Still, though... it's mid-July, dammit.

In about March, I applied for 2010 - 2011 teaching positions in the county immediately to the south of this one; a county which is significantly wealthier. The principal with whom I interviewed noted that over 97% of students pass the Statewide Test on the first try, and about the same percentage or more go to college. It's a totally different world than the one I'm currently in. I got an offer from one school and an opportunity to interview at another, and turned them both down. I am sure I will have days I curse myself for having made that decision, but I'm also very excited about teaching the pre-IB courses, as well as the AP Stats course.

I need to come up with something interesting to say to 40 or so incoming freshmen, and I'm being paid to do it today, so with that...