The mini-assessment that I had to give to my kids today...
a) had at least one question for which the answer is, I believe, incorrect,
b) had been copied from a test which highlighted the correct answer in several cases, giving the kids the answers to 3 of the 9 questions, and
c) required the use of about 6 formulas, which are available to all students on the state-mandated end-of-year test, but are not included on the mini-assessment. So it's my responsibility to make sure the kids have the formulas they need. Except no one bothered to tell me that.
Friday, October 2, 2009
6 Down...
First, on the "in-classroom" front: I'm getting better, but I have an awfully long way to go. The career-changers group from my county who got me involved in this teaching thing has some support for the people in the program, which was a complete surprise to me when I got the email from Elaine, my "mentor/coach." She's been in my classroom twice, and unlike everyone else who's been in my classroom, has actually provided immediate, specific, constructive advice. I nearly teared up talking to her the first time, because she gave me some hope I could make this work.
Anyway, I've implemented essentially all the things I said I'd do differently if I had it to do over (except the parent-calling thing, which I am for some reason avoiding like the plague), and I'm not sure whether they're really having an effect, but I still think they're good ideas. Also, Elaine gave me (as noted above) some specific, concrete, implementable advice which I've tried to implement, which mostly positive results.
On the downside, I'm still letting kid behavior get to me, and some of them are figuring that out, and (I believe) intentionally trying to bait me. Unfortunately, they're relatively successful, too. I go in thinking "No matter what, today I will be calm and professional all day, even if I'm kicking some kid out of my room for refusing to shut up after 19 warnings," and then I blow up within 30 minutes.
I'm not sure I've outlined the issues I'm facing, but here's the data: I have about 175 kids in 6 classes. Of those, over 100 scored a 1 or a 2 on the state-mandated testing, which means that unless they improve, they can't graduate. And let me just say, it's not that tough to graduate from high school. The point being, over 100 of my students are, at least currently, academically incapable of understanding the material I'm supposed to be teaching. Fully 1/3 of my class struggles with subtracting one negative number from another... to the question "what is negative 7 minus negative 2" I get 9, 7, 5, 2, -2, -5, -7 and -9. The eight-year-old child who lives in the house where I've been staying can answer that question correctly, but 1/3 of my students cannot. Half cannot multiply 2/3 times 6 and get a number. Not "the correct number" - I mean any number. They stare at the problem as if it is written in sanskrit.
So these kids cannot really hope to understand a mathematical concept with any depth, so every time I begin speaking of such a concept, they tune out and begin engaging in off-task behavior, as we say in the trade. Some of the ones who could get it if they'd work at it have decided they aren't willing to feel stupid while trying to understand, so they don't try. Which means I spend hours every evening trying to develop exercises, projects, etc., that will keep them entertained while I try to teach math.
Meanwhile, the administration keeps pouring on new requirements and other restrictions. I do not have textbooks for the kids, so I have to deliver homework and classwork on worksheets. Except that we don't have enough money for the copy paper we need, so we run out of paper on about the 20th, not to be replenished until the 1st of the next month. So I have to put all the assignments on the board. Which doesn't seem like that big a deal until you actually try to get kids to do word problems and other explanation-heavy exercises by writing it on the board.
I found out yesterday I am supposed to fill out some form on each of my low-level students, explaining how I am going to differentiate instruction for them, and what they need to do to improve their score. Most teachers have 10 or 15 of these. I have over 100. As a "turnaround" school, we are also required to fill out daily lesson plans for each class that describes how that day's lesson will be differentiated for the various learning groups in the class... this is in addition to the boxes on the lesson plan that lay out objectives, essential questions, etc., etc.... none of which really helps me in figuring out how to get the kids interested and working. I also am supposed to be developing an interactive word wall (updated daily), a standards-based bulletin board, an updated-daily workshop model (including an agenda I am supposed to go over with the students each class period), an evidence folder which no one has ever explained to me what it is except that my lesson plans are supposed to be in it, a tardy list updated daily, a list of students who were absent in my class but were present in school (although no one has ever explained how I'm supposed to know they were in school), a collection of posters describing what is expected of students in various stituations (like group work, group instruction, etc.), a professional development plan for myself and a plan for how to deal with the 7 - 10 ELL or ESE kids in each of my classes (separate from differentiated instruction, which is for the non-ESE / ELL kids who are not getting the material).
Each day, in addition to the lesson plan, I am obligated by the district to develop an "instructional focus" which is entirely aimed at the state-mandated test the kids will take later in the year. For this, we are given sample problems, which we are supposed to teach to the kids. But the sample problems are typically long, and printed on at least 2 (usually 3) pages. But of course, I don't have copy paper to create a set for each of my students, and don't even really have enough to create a class set that all classes could use. With a class set, the kids would have to copy the question and answer to another sheet of paper, if they wanted to study it. Most importantly, the instructional focus is completely unrelated to anything I'm going to be talking about in class, so it's 20 - 25 minutes out of every class that the kids don't get, don't care about and can't even take effective notes on. Plus, I have to give the kids a benchmark assessment and 5 different mini-assessments in addition to the actual test, so at least 6 times each year (about once every 4 weeks for the first 24 weeks of the school year, I give a test that's of no value to the course I'm teaching. The kids are tested-out, and it's only October 2.
All of which is my way of saying this: my administration, the district and every performance incentive I am aware of is focused on things that are ancillary to teaching the subject I'm supposed to be teaching. No one in the administration of the school at which I teach has offered a single comment about how I might be able to become a better teacher of kids, whereas I've gotten numerous memos, reports, presentations and one-on-one conferences about all of the ancillary stuff. We've stopped focusing on the kids and started focusing on the measurable actions we can take that someone somewhere thinks might be related to academic success.
So it's a struggle. I think it will get better, but it's hard to imagine that teaching at a turnaround school could actually be fun.
Anyway, I've implemented essentially all the things I said I'd do differently if I had it to do over (except the parent-calling thing, which I am for some reason avoiding like the plague), and I'm not sure whether they're really having an effect, but I still think they're good ideas. Also, Elaine gave me (as noted above) some specific, concrete, implementable advice which I've tried to implement, which mostly positive results.
On the downside, I'm still letting kid behavior get to me, and some of them are figuring that out, and (I believe) intentionally trying to bait me. Unfortunately, they're relatively successful, too. I go in thinking "No matter what, today I will be calm and professional all day, even if I'm kicking some kid out of my room for refusing to shut up after 19 warnings," and then I blow up within 30 minutes.
I'm not sure I've outlined the issues I'm facing, but here's the data: I have about 175 kids in 6 classes. Of those, over 100 scored a 1 or a 2 on the state-mandated testing, which means that unless they improve, they can't graduate. And let me just say, it's not that tough to graduate from high school. The point being, over 100 of my students are, at least currently, academically incapable of understanding the material I'm supposed to be teaching. Fully 1/3 of my class struggles with subtracting one negative number from another... to the question "what is negative 7 minus negative 2" I get 9, 7, 5, 2, -2, -5, -7 and -9. The eight-year-old child who lives in the house where I've been staying can answer that question correctly, but 1/3 of my students cannot. Half cannot multiply 2/3 times 6 and get a number. Not "the correct number" - I mean any number. They stare at the problem as if it is written in sanskrit.
So these kids cannot really hope to understand a mathematical concept with any depth, so every time I begin speaking of such a concept, they tune out and begin engaging in off-task behavior, as we say in the trade. Some of the ones who could get it if they'd work at it have decided they aren't willing to feel stupid while trying to understand, so they don't try. Which means I spend hours every evening trying to develop exercises, projects, etc., that will keep them entertained while I try to teach math.
Meanwhile, the administration keeps pouring on new requirements and other restrictions. I do not have textbooks for the kids, so I have to deliver homework and classwork on worksheets. Except that we don't have enough money for the copy paper we need, so we run out of paper on about the 20th, not to be replenished until the 1st of the next month. So I have to put all the assignments on the board. Which doesn't seem like that big a deal until you actually try to get kids to do word problems and other explanation-heavy exercises by writing it on the board.
I found out yesterday I am supposed to fill out some form on each of my low-level students, explaining how I am going to differentiate instruction for them, and what they need to do to improve their score. Most teachers have 10 or 15 of these. I have over 100. As a "turnaround" school, we are also required to fill out daily lesson plans for each class that describes how that day's lesson will be differentiated for the various learning groups in the class... this is in addition to the boxes on the lesson plan that lay out objectives, essential questions, etc., etc.... none of which really helps me in figuring out how to get the kids interested and working. I also am supposed to be developing an interactive word wall (updated daily), a standards-based bulletin board, an updated-daily workshop model (including an agenda I am supposed to go over with the students each class period), an evidence folder which no one has ever explained to me what it is except that my lesson plans are supposed to be in it, a tardy list updated daily, a list of students who were absent in my class but were present in school (although no one has ever explained how I'm supposed to know they were in school), a collection of posters describing what is expected of students in various stituations (like group work, group instruction, etc.), a professional development plan for myself and a plan for how to deal with the 7 - 10 ELL or ESE kids in each of my classes (separate from differentiated instruction, which is for the non-ESE / ELL kids who are not getting the material).
Each day, in addition to the lesson plan, I am obligated by the district to develop an "instructional focus" which is entirely aimed at the state-mandated test the kids will take later in the year. For this, we are given sample problems, which we are supposed to teach to the kids. But the sample problems are typically long, and printed on at least 2 (usually 3) pages. But of course, I don't have copy paper to create a set for each of my students, and don't even really have enough to create a class set that all classes could use. With a class set, the kids would have to copy the question and answer to another sheet of paper, if they wanted to study it. Most importantly, the instructional focus is completely unrelated to anything I'm going to be talking about in class, so it's 20 - 25 minutes out of every class that the kids don't get, don't care about and can't even take effective notes on. Plus, I have to give the kids a benchmark assessment and 5 different mini-assessments in addition to the actual test, so at least 6 times each year (about once every 4 weeks for the first 24 weeks of the school year, I give a test that's of no value to the course I'm teaching. The kids are tested-out, and it's only October 2.
All of which is my way of saying this: my administration, the district and every performance incentive I am aware of is focused on things that are ancillary to teaching the subject I'm supposed to be teaching. No one in the administration of the school at which I teach has offered a single comment about how I might be able to become a better teacher of kids, whereas I've gotten numerous memos, reports, presentations and one-on-one conferences about all of the ancillary stuff. We've stopped focusing on the kids and started focusing on the measurable actions we can take that someone somewhere thinks might be related to academic success.
So it's a struggle. I think it will get better, but it's hard to imagine that teaching at a turnaround school could actually be fun.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Random Ideas
Talking with my youngest a few minutes ago gave me an idea for what I could do on the back wall of my room, which would be interesting and possibly even relevant to mathematics, although it's more graph theory than geometry...
Get every kid in each class to provide a head shot and indicate which kids among their classmates they know, and which they consider friends. Put the head shots in a circle on the wall, and use string or tape to connect the ones they know or are friends with.
Lots of issues I can see immediately with this (e.g., what to do about the 10 or so who drop and similar number who add the class well after the first week of school), but maybe there's something in there we could salvage.
KB's teacher, according to KB, makes note-taking "fun." (KB is in 5th grade.) She uses drawings to illustrate text (e.g., drawing a sandal when discussing the need to "flip-flop" some mathematical concept), word bubbles around new vocabulary, dramatizations of key points, etc. Not sure what to do with that, but I like the thought of illustrated notes.
Get every kid in each class to provide a head shot and indicate which kids among their classmates they know, and which they consider friends. Put the head shots in a circle on the wall, and use string or tape to connect the ones they know or are friends with.
Lots of issues I can see immediately with this (e.g., what to do about the 10 or so who drop and similar number who add the class well after the first week of school), but maybe there's something in there we could salvage.
KB's teacher, according to KB, makes note-taking "fun." (KB is in 5th grade.) She uses drawings to illustrate text (e.g., drawing a sandal when discussing the need to "flip-flop" some mathematical concept), word bubbles around new vocabulary, dramatizations of key points, etc. Not sure what to do with that, but I like the thought of illustrated notes.
4 Down...
I went home Tuesday afternoon convinced I was not going to make it through the month, much less the year. I'm not joking, even a little bit. Every class was impossible... no discipline, unwilling to work, unable to reduce 3/6 to lowest terms, etc. I yelled, I cajoled, I lost my cool, I did everything but break down into a quivering blob of congealed gravy, although if I could have figured out a way to make that happen, I would have, because it would have been preferable to continuing to stand in front of the kids and make an ass of myself.
I had no solutions, and all of the options suggested to me seemed like things either well beyond my capabilities or totally inconsistent with my personality. I spent all of Tuesday afternoon and evening wallowing in my misery, and much of Tuesday night trying to figure out what I could possibly do, given the situation I was in. Quitting isn't really an option, although I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to make it one. I woke up at about 2:30 AM and began working on Wednesday's lesson plans, and spent some time thinking about the flow of the class -- part of the problem is clearly that the kids are either spending too much time listening (or not listening) to me pontificate, or spending too much time in unproductive groups ignoring the work and chatting about, well, anything but math.
So Wednesday was one of the better days I've had, but I wasn't fooled -- my Wednesday classes are smaller and better disciplined... it's the Thursday classes that were to be the real test. I was, I admit, very nearly sick to my stomach thinking about getting up in front of the first class (by far the worst of the three) on Thursday. It wasn't perfect, but we got a lot done, they paid attention for the most part, and the other two classes were about the same. I ended the day thinking that, while I am clearly not the best teacher who ever lived, I'm not totally without hope.
And then I got cocky. Today (Friday) was pretty miserable, although not even on the same planet as Tuesday. So I still have a lot of work to do, particularly around building a plan for every minute of the class period.
Here are some things I would do differently if I could start school over today:
1. Require students to have a math binder, including tabs for homework, notes & classwork, test preview/review, instructional focus (the stuff they have to do at the beginning of each class to prepare for the state-mandated testing) and "tool box," consisting of all the formulae, shortcuts and other stuff that would be helpful to know at any time. Plus a vocabulary tab, for the content-specific vocabulary they need.
2. Check the binder regularly to ensure they're taking notes and doing the homework. I'd even give a test grade for this, because I think note-taking and doing homework is so critical to understanding. I have kids who don't know what they're doing and they're sitting there without anything in front of them. It drives me nuts, because they've convinced themselves they can't understand it, so why bother to write it down? But if they wrote it down, they'd have a chance to understand.
3. Actually buy into the "don't smile until after Christmas" advice. Not that I'd be able to pull it off, but I'd be a lot less "let's be friends" than I would be "this class is going to be hard and you're going to work your ass off to do well in it. If you show me effort, we'll get along fine, and if you act like you don't care or aren't willing to work, we're going to be butting heads all year." My big rule wouldn't be "show respect," it would be "show effort." The talkers and paper wad throwers and class disrupters aren't fundamentally disrespectful so much as they are checked out.
4. Give a very short (3 questions, 10 minutes) quiz on the last day we meet each week, completely based on the homework and classwork we've covered that week. Use that to check homework understanding.
5. Begin calling parents immediately when kids are tardy, unprepared or undisciplined.
6. Something else that I've forgotten, but I'll come back and edit it in when I remeber.
Obviously, I can (and plan to) implement a lot of this stuff now, but I sure wish I'd started it at the beginning. I hope I make it to next year, so I can try it then.
I had no solutions, and all of the options suggested to me seemed like things either well beyond my capabilities or totally inconsistent with my personality. I spent all of Tuesday afternoon and evening wallowing in my misery, and much of Tuesday night trying to figure out what I could possibly do, given the situation I was in. Quitting isn't really an option, although I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to make it one. I woke up at about 2:30 AM and began working on Wednesday's lesson plans, and spent some time thinking about the flow of the class -- part of the problem is clearly that the kids are either spending too much time listening (or not listening) to me pontificate, or spending too much time in unproductive groups ignoring the work and chatting about, well, anything but math.
So Wednesday was one of the better days I've had, but I wasn't fooled -- my Wednesday classes are smaller and better disciplined... it's the Thursday classes that were to be the real test. I was, I admit, very nearly sick to my stomach thinking about getting up in front of the first class (by far the worst of the three) on Thursday. It wasn't perfect, but we got a lot done, they paid attention for the most part, and the other two classes were about the same. I ended the day thinking that, while I am clearly not the best teacher who ever lived, I'm not totally without hope.
And then I got cocky. Today (Friday) was pretty miserable, although not even on the same planet as Tuesday. So I still have a lot of work to do, particularly around building a plan for every minute of the class period.
Here are some things I would do differently if I could start school over today:
1. Require students to have a math binder, including tabs for homework, notes & classwork, test preview/review, instructional focus (the stuff they have to do at the beginning of each class to prepare for the state-mandated testing) and "tool box," consisting of all the formulae, shortcuts and other stuff that would be helpful to know at any time. Plus a vocabulary tab, for the content-specific vocabulary they need.
2. Check the binder regularly to ensure they're taking notes and doing the homework. I'd even give a test grade for this, because I think note-taking and doing homework is so critical to understanding. I have kids who don't know what they're doing and they're sitting there without anything in front of them. It drives me nuts, because they've convinced themselves they can't understand it, so why bother to write it down? But if they wrote it down, they'd have a chance to understand.
3. Actually buy into the "don't smile until after Christmas" advice. Not that I'd be able to pull it off, but I'd be a lot less "let's be friends" than I would be "this class is going to be hard and you're going to work your ass off to do well in it. If you show me effort, we'll get along fine, and if you act like you don't care or aren't willing to work, we're going to be butting heads all year." My big rule wouldn't be "show respect," it would be "show effort." The talkers and paper wad throwers and class disrupters aren't fundamentally disrespectful so much as they are checked out.
4. Give a very short (3 questions, 10 minutes) quiz on the last day we meet each week, completely based on the homework and classwork we've covered that week. Use that to check homework understanding.
5. Begin calling parents immediately when kids are tardy, unprepared or undisciplined.
6. Something else that I've forgotten, but I'll come back and edit it in when I remeber.
Obviously, I can (and plan to) implement a lot of this stuff now, but I sure wish I'd started it at the beginning. I hope I make it to next year, so I can try it then.
Quick Note on the Testing Referenced in the Last Post
The assessment tests we gave this week were a mess... First, we were supposed to give the tests on Monday and Tuesday, but couldn't because no one had been trained on the test reader, this big machine in the teacher's lounge that you have to run all the special answer sheets through, which grades them and sends the results to the district. Training was Tuesday afternoon, so we tested on Tuesday and Wednesday. The "training" consisted of the tech guy telling us to put the papers in this slot, punch a couple of buttons and wait for it to spit out the confirmation. Essentially as difficult as using a copy machine. Since virtually every teacher used it last year, the training was a total waste. (When I need to use it, I'm going to have one of the veteran teachers look over my shoulder to ensure I do it right, something I would have done regardless of whether I'd been trained.) However, I may never need to use it...
No one could figure out how to print my answer sheets, so I had to have all the kids write their answers on a sheet of paper, then grade them by hand. Meanwhile, all the other teachers had to print the answer sheets on their own printers because the main test reader and answer sheet printer was not networked to any of our computers. After grading them by hand, I had to code each response as a 1 for "correct" and 0 for "incorrect" and enter that code into a spreadsheet. The other teachers ran their answer sheets through the test reader to have the coding done automatically. Except it didn't work. So now every math and reading teacher in the school has to hand-grade the answer sheets and hand-enter the responses into the same spreadsheet I did. It turns out I was the lucky one, because grading the gridded response answers is actually very hard.
No one knows why the test reader didn't work, so there's a very good chance we'll all need to do this again in October. Twice, because we test every 4 weeks.
No one could figure out how to print my answer sheets, so I had to have all the kids write their answers on a sheet of paper, then grade them by hand. Meanwhile, all the other teachers had to print the answer sheets on their own printers because the main test reader and answer sheet printer was not networked to any of our computers. After grading them by hand, I had to code each response as a 1 for "correct" and 0 for "incorrect" and enter that code into a spreadsheet. The other teachers ran their answer sheets through the test reader to have the coding done automatically. Except it didn't work. So now every math and reading teacher in the school has to hand-grade the answer sheets and hand-enter the responses into the same spreadsheet I did. It turns out I was the lucky one, because grading the gridded response answers is actually very hard.
No one knows why the test reader didn't work, so there's a very good chance we'll all need to do this again in October. Twice, because we test every 4 weeks.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
3 Down...
So here's what happened this week, in reverse chronological order:
At about 2 PM on Friday, I wandered into Mrs. CowCulus's room to ask if there was anything I needed to know about the Focus Assessment that I was supposed to giving to my students in each class on Monday and Tuesday. Mrs. CowCulus wasn't there, but her faithful sidekick Mrs. D. was, feverishly attempting to get something done on Mrs. CowCulus's computer. (More about Mrs. D, a truly wonderful woman, and the very fun relationship she and Mrs. CowCulus have -- both long-time teachers at MHS.)
Interrupting her mid-stream (which I would ordinarily feel bad about, but the only way to speak with Mrs. D is to interrupt whatever she's doing -- I've never yet witnessed an occasion she wasn't grading papers, working on a lesson plan, making up a quiz, etc.), I asked her about the Focus Assessment. (This is part of the turnaround plan for MHS -- all 9th and 10th graders get 15 minutes of instruction each math class on some topic that will appear on the standarized, state-mandated test, then an assessment on those topics every 3 weeks or so. Don't get me started (again) on the value of that.) Anyway, she lets me know she's attempting to print the tests and answer sheets for her class.
"Um, so am I supposed to do the same thing for my classes?"
"Yes."
"Um, it's 2 PM on Friday... is this something somebody told me already and I just forgot about, or is it something no one happened to mention?"
"Well, I haven't seen any emails about it, except for the one giving us the dates. But last year we had to print the exams, so I was trying to remember how to do that."
"So... these exams won't show up Monday morning like the Benchmark assessment did this week?" (Another long story, but that was earlier in the week, and thus later in this blog, possibly.)
"No."
"Hmm..."
"And of course, you'll need different tests for the 9th graders and 10th graders."
"What about my 11th and 12th graders?"
"They don't take it."
"So I need something for them to do also? I guess I would have figured that out on my own at some point. Any chance anyone was planning to tell me any of this, you know, before Monday?" (Given that we were 15 minutes from the weekend at that point, the answer to this question is clearly "no.")
There's more to this conversation, most of which is distinctly R-rated. At some point, Mrs. CowCulus came back in and informed us that in order for anyone to print the exams, they had to be trained on the system. Therefore, we were pushing the assessment back to Tuesday and Wednesday, with training on Monday. Moments after she sends this email, the technology coordinator sends an email stating the training will be on Tuesday. Stay tuned.
Of course, I am again left wondering whether the administration has any idea that there are teachers in the classroom who have no idea what they're supposed to do to make any of these things happen. What if I had actually been working (say, grading some of those 400 papers I need to finish before Monday at 7:30 AM), and hadn't run into Mrs. D to ask?
OK... I actually have to attend to my certification class now. Possibly I'll get back to the week past, in order to avoid grading all those looming papers.
At about 2 PM on Friday, I wandered into Mrs. CowCulus's room to ask if there was anything I needed to know about the Focus Assessment that I was supposed to giving to my students in each class on Monday and Tuesday. Mrs. CowCulus wasn't there, but her faithful sidekick Mrs. D. was, feverishly attempting to get something done on Mrs. CowCulus's computer. (More about Mrs. D, a truly wonderful woman, and the very fun relationship she and Mrs. CowCulus have -- both long-time teachers at MHS.)
Interrupting her mid-stream (which I would ordinarily feel bad about, but the only way to speak with Mrs. D is to interrupt whatever she's doing -- I've never yet witnessed an occasion she wasn't grading papers, working on a lesson plan, making up a quiz, etc.), I asked her about the Focus Assessment. (This is part of the turnaround plan for MHS -- all 9th and 10th graders get 15 minutes of instruction each math class on some topic that will appear on the standarized, state-mandated test, then an assessment on those topics every 3 weeks or so. Don't get me started (again) on the value of that.) Anyway, she lets me know she's attempting to print the tests and answer sheets for her class.
"Um, so am I supposed to do the same thing for my classes?"
"Yes."
"Um, it's 2 PM on Friday... is this something somebody told me already and I just forgot about, or is it something no one happened to mention?"
"Well, I haven't seen any emails about it, except for the one giving us the dates. But last year we had to print the exams, so I was trying to remember how to do that."
"So... these exams won't show up Monday morning like the Benchmark assessment did this week?" (Another long story, but that was earlier in the week, and thus later in this blog, possibly.)
"No."
"Hmm..."
"And of course, you'll need different tests for the 9th graders and 10th graders."
"What about my 11th and 12th graders?"
"They don't take it."
"So I need something for them to do also? I guess I would have figured that out on my own at some point. Any chance anyone was planning to tell me any of this, you know, before Monday?" (Given that we were 15 minutes from the weekend at that point, the answer to this question is clearly "no.")
There's more to this conversation, most of which is distinctly R-rated. At some point, Mrs. CowCulus came back in and informed us that in order for anyone to print the exams, they had to be trained on the system. Therefore, we were pushing the assessment back to Tuesday and Wednesday, with training on Monday. Moments after she sends this email, the technology coordinator sends an email stating the training will be on Tuesday. Stay tuned.
Of course, I am again left wondering whether the administration has any idea that there are teachers in the classroom who have no idea what they're supposed to do to make any of these things happen. What if I had actually been working (say, grading some of those 400 papers I need to finish before Monday at 7:30 AM), and hadn't run into Mrs. D to ask?
OK... I actually have to attend to my certification class now. Possibly I'll get back to the week past, in order to avoid grading all those looming papers.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday's Gone
Train roll on, on down the line,
Won't you please take me far away?
-- Opening lines of "Tuesday's Gone," by Lynyrd Skynyrd
So the situation is this: at least 20% of my students are ESE (i.e., special needs) or ESOL (non-native English speakers). Statistically speaking, 50% of my students won't graduate, and a lot of them already know who they are, because they're juniors or seniors, re-taking Algebra II and / or Geometry. They believe they can't do this work, because they've tried before and failed (or not tried and failed...), and they'd rather be anywhere on earth but the math class.
I gave a very, very basic Algebra I skills assessment today, and the median score was 7 out of 20. Meaning that, if I were teaching Algebra I and grading the way it's presumably supposed to be graded, roughly 70% of my class would fail. Not just fail Algebra I. But fail the early, basic elements of Algebra I. Algebra I. Unfortunately, I'm teaching Algebra II and Geometry, which means they not only have already passed Algebra I, they NEED Algebra I as the foundation on which to build the stuff I'm presumably trying to teach them. It's absolutely no wonder why I'm having difficulty holding their attention -- the moment I put an equation on the board with a variable in it, they're lost.
OK, that's a reality I need to deal with. I can deal with the skills issue. I can drill, I can do mini/focus lessons on Algebra I skills, I can hold after-school help sessions (not that anyone showed up when I offered today)... whatever. But I can't do that stuff if the people who are bored or uninterested or completely lost are disrupting the rest of the class.
I decided today that the main thing I need to do is to look at every new day as a new opportunity to get it right.
Won't you please take me far away?
-- Opening lines of "Tuesday's Gone," by Lynyrd Skynyrd
So the situation is this: at least 20% of my students are ESE (i.e., special needs) or ESOL (non-native English speakers). Statistically speaking, 50% of my students won't graduate, and a lot of them already know who they are, because they're juniors or seniors, re-taking Algebra II and / or Geometry. They believe they can't do this work, because they've tried before and failed (or not tried and failed...), and they'd rather be anywhere on earth but the math class.
I gave a very, very basic Algebra I skills assessment today, and the median score was 7 out of 20. Meaning that, if I were teaching Algebra I and grading the way it's presumably supposed to be graded, roughly 70% of my class would fail. Not just fail Algebra I. But fail the early, basic elements of Algebra I. Algebra I. Unfortunately, I'm teaching Algebra II and Geometry, which means they not only have already passed Algebra I, they NEED Algebra I as the foundation on which to build the stuff I'm presumably trying to teach them. It's absolutely no wonder why I'm having difficulty holding their attention -- the moment I put an equation on the board with a variable in it, they're lost.
OK, that's a reality I need to deal with. I can deal with the skills issue. I can drill, I can do mini/focus lessons on Algebra I skills, I can hold after-school help sessions (not that anyone showed up when I offered today)... whatever. But I can't do that stuff if the people who are bored or uninterested or completely lost are disrupting the rest of the class.
I decided today that the main thing I need to do is to look at every new day as a new opportunity to get it right.
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