Saturday, September 5, 2009

Labor Day Weekend

Update: The starting quarterback for the mighty MHS team was tossed from the game late in the first half for throwing a punch at a player who hit him out-of-bounds, and the second stringer is apparently a one-dimensional running quarterback. So MHS squandered a 16 - 0 halftime lead (in which the starting QB was 4 for 5, 115 yards) to lose 22 - 16. Bummer. MHS had at least 4 unnecessary roughness penalties. One wonders what practice will be like next week... I know I wouldn't want to be there.

Meanwhile, it's 10AM and I've done three loads of laundry, gone out for breakfast and read the paper, run all my errands for the weekend (needed a yardstick, whiteboard cleaner, markers, and groceries) and, were it not for doing this blog entry, I would have started my lesson plans for next week. Working 6:30AM to 2:30PM makes for an interesting daily rhythm.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Friday Night Lights

I went to my first high school football game in a long, long time tonight. I left in the 3rd quarter, but the good guys were winning 16 - 6. Go, Home Team!

Anyway, it was fun to walk around and see the kids being kids, with boy- or girlfriends and hanging out or tossing a ball around or whatever, and not feel any need to monitor their behavior or want them to be doing something different. A surprising number of my students said hello, although a few studiously avoided looking at me as they passed. Hey, I wouldn't have wanted to chat with my high school teachers at a football game either. (Well, actually, I had an English teacher who I remember as something of a babe, so I guess I would have wanted to hang out with her. But you get the point.)

Meanwhile, my first two classes today were just miserable. Couldn't get them to focus, couldn't get them to shut up, etc. We had a pep rally (tonight was the first game of the season) during 2nd period, and I guess everyone was feeling frisky, especially with the long weekend coming up. Regardless, it was no fun. Third period, however, went very well... sort of what I was imagining my classes would be like, back before I got in front of actual students in an actual class. So maybe it's doable. Plus, amazingly, I got kudos both from the department head (Mrs. CowCulus) and the principal. He said really nice things to me about how good he thought I was, which I sincerely appreciated, but had to wonder about -- the only classroom visit I've had was from the AP for a few minutes, and her key finding was that the room was substandard. So how could Mrs. CowCulus and the principal really have any idea if I'm any good? I actually asked Mrs. CowCulus that question, and she said that I'm asking all the right questions, showing that I know what I should be thinking about. Okay, but doesn't execution count, too? Whatever... I'll take the kudos. I need'em.

The principal also asked me what I needed, and I said "two months." I really just hope that I haven't lost the class by the time I get good enough to actually teach them something.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Round 2

So I met with the restless, relatively unruly class today. Not really much better, but there are some things I can do that can make it work, I think. I had a bit of a "come to Jesus" meeting with them, talking about the fact that I'm not going to put up with constant chatter, half a dozen kids having to go to the bathroom, unresponsiveness, etc., and that I was willing to work on ways to make the subject and the discussion more engaging, but that they were going to have to work on ways to get what they needed out of the class, and they were going to have to settle down and pay attention.

Maybe the thing that's most frustrating is that I have no idea if I'm any good or not. No one, other than the kids, has ever seen me teach.

But hey, my word wall is nice, so I got that going for me.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

And Now for Something Completely Different

My final class of the day yesterday was incredibly restless -- the ones who weren't trying to sleep were talking, attempting to surreptitiously text or, I don't know, play video games under their desks. Finally, one young lady spoke up, asking if there was any way I could make this stuff more interesting.

A dagger to my heart, in any number of ways. I think this stuff is riveting, of course, and more fun than tournament Foosball. More importantly, I think I'm just about as funny and interesting while discussing mathematics as Tom Cruise on the Oprah Show. Apparently my students disagree.

I've had trouble keeping this group's attention, regardless of the flow of the lesson - short groupwork periods punctuated by mini-lessons, long lecture followed by long groupwork, mini-lesson plus directed class discussion... whatever, I can't keep them awake. So the young lady mentioned another teacher's style, and could I give that a try. I spoke to the teacher in question and he's using something called "Power Teaching" by Chris Biffle. I've looked at the videos and, well, it ain't me, babe. That said, I can certainly incorporate a key principle or two of what he's talking about -- (1) micro-lessons (30 seconds or less) (2) active student engagement -- they must participate, and (3) learn, pair, share - after I teach it, they turn and teach it to their neighbor.

Now I gotta figure out how to make that work...

Teach-by-Number

MHS is a "turnaround" school, meaning... well, I'm not sure exactly what that means, except that the students have not scored well or improved on the state-mandated tests for the past few years, and thus we're in a special category. There is a miniscule amount of additional money attached to being a turnaround school, like having a full-time English coach rather than half-time. However, there are apparently dozens of additional requirements, including one that requires all teachers of 9th- and 10th-graders to spend "10- to 15-minutes" each class period going over questions of the type that may appear on the State Assessment. These are called "Focus Questions."

[The following couple of paragraphs are an aside, and constitute a rant about how much paper I'm allowed to use. I'm not kidding - I have a paper allotment.] The Focus Question forms are designed to be used as handouts, allowing the kids to mark on them in the same way they'd mark on the State Assessment (e.g., filling in the bubble for the letter of the correct answer and doing "gridded response," which is something I am incapable of describing in less than 600 words). But the forms are typically two pages long, and I have 175 students in 6 classes over two days. So in a week, I would go through over 1000 copies and 500 sheets of paper, even if I copy the form two-sided. I'm presumably alloted 1000 copies per month, so if I do it the way I'm supposed to, I will have gone through my entire allotment in a single week. Even if I'm actually alloted 1000 pieces of paper (rather than copies), I'm done in two weeks.

Of course, I also don't have any textbooks for 145 of those students, so if I want to assign homework, I need to give them a worksheet. Assume I give homework every night, but I manage to squeeze all the questions onto a half-sheet of paper. I'm using another 35 sheets of paper a day, or 750 a month. Want to give a quiz? That's 175 sheets. A test? At least 350 sheets. Semesters are 9 weeks long, and I'm told we should give about 3 tests and maybe 3 quizzes. 1500 sheets of paper over 2 months. Want to send a letter and your syllabus home to the parents? 500 copies on 350 sheets of paper. Hand out your rules and regulations, policies and procedures? Another 350 sheets of paper. In a typical month, I would reasonably go through 5,500 copies (on about 3,000 sheets of paper).

One reasonable solution would be to project the State Assessment form onto the whiteboard using my laptop. Except that we have no LCD projectors for the math department. (There are 24 in the school, but they're all allocated to Reading.) I've tried using overheads, but they can not be seen in the back of the room. So I've been writing the questions on the whiteboard "before" each class. The "before" is in quotes because I typically finish writing the questions at about 5 minutes past the bell. The students, meanwhile, have been milling about in the classroom during this time, waiting to get started. I'd leave them up for the next class (the questions, not the kids), but I don't have enough whiteboard space to do that, largely because all my spare whiteboard space is consumed by the "workshop model" and "standards-based" instruction stuff that must be up and visible in all areas of the room. Why the students need to know we're working on standard A.1.9934.BC.2 "Using geometric forms to... blah, blah, blah..." is something no one has even attempted to explain, but is nonetheless state-mandated for "turnaround" schools.

Anyway, going through the Focus Questions actually takes about 25 minutes, so if you include the extra 5 minutes at the beginning of the period, I'm using 30 of my 90 minutes on ancillary stuff. If I thought it would be helpful, I'd probably be okay with it. But it's truly ancillary -- it bears no connection to what I'm teaching, and I'm not allowed to change it in any way to conform. So these kids, who are already confused by trying to understand the math I'm supposed to be teaching, are now getting bombarded by new stuff that doesn't fit in anywhere. It's inconceivable to me that this isn't just more confusing, rather than helpful. And I can't find anyone who disagrees. (Not that I've been asking anyone else -- in fact, the only questions I've asked about these Focus Questions is how I should present them. Of course, the moment I ask, I get a 10 minute harrangue about how nuts they are.) But tomorrow morning, I'll be at it again, discussing the Focus Questions.

So I've spent a week-and-a-half trying to meet the state and county mandates for word walls, workshop models, Focus Questions, Lesson Plans, etc. Fine. I can live with that. But I'm getting up at 4 in the morning and leaving the school at 4:30 in the afternoon, and in all of that time, I'm spending about 45 minutes each day working on what I'm actually going to teach in my subject area. That can't be good.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Follow Up to Week 1

I was gchatting with my daughter regarding the week that was, and she asked what I'd do about the issues I saw with being a first-time teacher. I'm not sure I know the answer, but here's what I told her. I really just want to get these down so I can think about them if the time ever comes to volunteer to help the newbies -- at least I'll know what I thought I needed then.

1. much, much better orientation program at the school level, with a procedures manual on all the stuff you have to do, forms to complete, issues you need to know about, people you need to know (e.g., the tech guy to set up your computer), etc. [I may have mentioned in this space that I was keeping track of things I wish I'd known about earlier... I was up to about 25 separate items, at last count.]

2. much more formalized mentoring program -- every day or every other day debriefing with your mentor -- "what happened today you weren't expecting; what did you feel you weren't prepared for?" with answers or opinions on what to do.

3. probably (i'd need to think about this) day 1 and day 2 have one administrator or another sit in on your classes and observe start to finish... give you a top to bottom critique (emphasizing the positive, of course) but pointing out what you need to do differently.

Maybe some schools or most schools or even all schools except for MHS do this, but it's for damn sure MHS doesn't. And I don't get the impression any of the teachers here were surprised it wasn't happening, which means it isn't just because of the new administration here.

Sidney Poitier I'm Not

Well, I've survived my first week of school. It is very strange to be in a position in which I feel truly incompetent... I'm not sure I've ever been in a job I was less well-prepared for. I have to shoulder some of that blame, but the truth is that no first-time teacher in the world -- especially those who haven't done any student teaching -- could possibly be prepared for the reality of the job. Not that there is anything in the job that is beyond my skill set (I don't think), but that there are a million little things a teacher needs to do and ways he needs to act in order to be able to clear the decks for actual teaching. Plus, there are a million strategies the teacher must have for all of the different teaching situations he will face -- kids who have no math skills but want to work hard, kids who have good math skills but don't want to work at all, kids with good math skills but who don't speak English and thus can't understand what you're saying, kids with bad math skills and bad English skills, kids who are bored and need to be stimulated by more interesting material than is being offered, kids who are bored because the material being taught is too hard and they've tuned out, kids who have good skills but need to digest information slowly, etc., etc., etc., etc., etc... well, you get the picture. That's just relative to student-teacher interaction.

Then there are the unbelievable peripheral requirements -- "word walls" to be updated daily with new vocabulary from the course, "standards-based" charts on the wall to show students what will be covered that day and what State Educational Standard the day's lesson is directed toward, "Workshop Model" charts to show the flow of the instruction (lecture to small group work to class discussion to summary, for example), lesson plans that must conform to a specific format, including a listing of the Standards to be taught, the objective of the day's lesson and essential questions the student should be able to answer at the conclusion of the lesson, forms to be filed for how you are differentiating your instruction for "special needs" students and students who don't speak English, and others I've forgotten in the haze of the past week.

Good teachers, from what I can see, have found ways to implement processes that reduce the time required for the peripheral stuff to a bare minimum -- maybe an hour or two a day. They also have processes and mannerisms and little tricks to keep their classroom running smoothly, reducing the amount of policework they have to do, and dramatically reducing the thought they have to put into how to run the classroom. This frees them up to mostly teach, and some of them are very good at it. Some are less good, but the truth is, the bad teachers are not the ones who can't teach (there aren't many of those), the bad teachers are the ones who can't control the classroom or who can't manage the peripheral stuff so that it doesn't impinge on their ability to put together a good lesson. The great teachers are the ones who manage to get all that done and still find time to add some special flair that ignites a flame in some kid to do more, and accomplish more, than he otherwise would have.

I have a considerable mountain to climb, no single step of which seems particularly difficult, but the whole of which is, at the very least, daunting.