60 second story

This project idea has been floating around the twitterverse for a while, including several people from my own Surrey Schools district. I recently introduced the idea to one of my Grade 9 groups and figured I could use my own experiences as an example.

Less Answers, More Questions

"The strongest steel is forged in the hottest fire." Chinese Proverb

I am blessed to work in a school, and more specifically a department, that allows and even encourages me to change my mind, to question and debate with myself and others, and to constantly assume my assumptions are wrong. We are a community of educators that has decided to return to our preschool roots by reducing our obsessive need for tidy answers in work books and increasing our search for that magical place of wonder, intrigue, and exploration. We try to do this for our students and ourselves as professional learners, but its messy and uncomfortable, and it needs to be.

In the last few years, the Twitterverse and education think tanks have been a buzz with similar ideas, labelled everything from 21st Century skills, to Formative Assessment, and individualized learning. Thousands of meetings and Pro D days are held, millions of blog posts just like this one are written, and promises of progress are made.

All of these things are good, as are the intentions of those delivering and listening to the messages of change, but as my little circle of educators has repeatedly discovered, it's not that easy. It never is. We are still a society that values the "knowing" over the searching. We like the Coles notes versions of things not just because they are faster and easier, but because they simplify complex ideas into nice neat little chunks that help us feel like we have the answer. We sell our "knowing" to everyone around us, and reassure ourselves we have it right by associating with like minded friends and organizations.

Teachers have fed this obsession to new generations by giving stickers for right answers and red pen for wrong ones. The "smart" kids in school are the ones with all the answers, not the ones asking the questions. In the name of fairness and efficiency we standardize everything from the curriculum and exams for the kids, to the letters and messages sent home to parents. We have created an overly simplified and greatly reduced version of how to learn, demonstrate learning, report learning, and learn about learning.

Sadly, this is never more evident than when we ourselves are put into the fire. When our practice is observed and questioned by colleagues, administration, parents, and even the students themselves, it is much easier to become defensive and arrogant about "the answer". It ranges from the latest cognitive research to "it's what we have always done"; from "this is the way I do it" to my personal favorite... "It's what everybody is doing." We can't help ourselves it seems, we all do it in some way.

But as my department head likes to remind students during our fitness sessions, we need to learn to become comfortable with being uncomfortable. It is only through the discomfort of breaking down our bodies that we are able to awake the next day with new strength. Worse yet, it's not a one time thing. We must do it repeatedly, over long periods of time to truly reap the benefits. The same is true of our teaching practice and philosophy.

As the proverb goes, steel is strengthened in the fire. But it's not that simple either. Steel is not hardened just by repeated heating, it must also be hammered upon. It needs to beaten, folded over, remolded and reshaped. The very fibers within the red hot metal must be bent and compressed and reformed before the next visit to the flame. It is an exhausting and laborious process, but necessary if one is after a truly special product.

This is where I personally stumble most often. It is exhausting work teaching, and finding enough energy to get through the "to do list" is tough enough. When I lay down at the end if the day it is just easier to "walk the run". We can't let ourselves or our schools do that anymore.

We can no longer tell students and parents that learning is complicated and messy but then spend our time and energy wrapping it into neat little packages to sell them. We can't tell ourselves and others we are working to improve honest and challenging learning conditions for students only to avoid the dirty, sweaty folding of the steel. If we are to move forward as a village of learners, we must not just allow for differences of opinion but actually seek them out. If we want parents and students to believe in their hearts that its okay to be different, to make mistakes, to challenge the status quo, we need set the example ourselves. If we want our beliefs and theories to be the strongest they have ever been, we must expose them constantly to a barrage of heat and hammering. Some ideas will break, melt, and fade away, but those that change and grow and remain will worth keeping.

I say no more educational Coles notes: for parents, students, or ourselves. It's time for honesty. It's time for all of us to admit just how little we actually know. It's time for us to honor many ways of being and learning by ceasing our assumption that "same" is "fair" and therefore the right thing to do. No more back patting and agreeing with each other. It's time we all put ourselves and our communities to flame, hammered out our weaknesses, and worked to reshape ourselves. We can handle it. Kids relish the opportunity. Parents respect the honesty, effort, and the chance to work alongside educators as valued parts of the equation rather than customers of our packaged product. After the initial shock and exhaustion that comes from starting a new workout regime, teachers we will find a new and far more lasting source of energy for what will be even more tiring work.

For students, for parents, for colleagues... and for ourselves: less answers, more questions.

Burnouts and Boys

I had an interesting conversation this morning while playing at the park with my three year old. We were enjoying a school playground and just before heading home for lunch a massive crew of parents started arriving to collect their kids. One dad's opinion of summer school for his son provided a great juxtaposition of ideologies, and highlighted the education system's self and public deceit about learning.

After seeing my reaction to the news he was waiting for an 8 year old in two weeks of Math and English assistance summer school, this father was quick to decree he was glad summer school wasn't just for high school anymore. He believed his son would benefit form the extra help of two more weeks of school and hoped it would keep him from falling further behind.

No doubt this is a logical and positive outlook on "extra help", and surely most teachers would agree that extra time and attention for a struggling learner would indeed help them close the gaps in their education. However, the father's other comment, along with our understanding of how the brain works, shines a light on just why summer school remains so ineffective.

Shortly after supporting his son's extra two weeks of fundamentals focus, this father suggested schools don't spend nearly enough time teaching social skills. Is it possible that both of these statements, seemingly opposed, can be true?

There are many reasons a young student might fall behind in reading, writing, and math, not the least of which seems to be gender. Without going into the vast research about boys brain development as opposed to girls, studies and stories from primary teachers suggest boys language develops more slowly or at least at a later stage than girls. Much of this has to do with behavioral issues as much as brain function, with boys (on average) demonstrating a much greater need for movement and changing of activities. We also know that learning for all students and ages happens best in context, rather than the "drill and kill" method used for the last century, and that "play" is not only a great break from traditional learning, but vital to development of social skills and context for book learning.

To extend this father's thinking into practice, one could imagine a thoughtful and holistically selected section of kids, who for a variety of recognized reasons, would benefit specifically from time with a teacher rather than a parent. This group, being of higher perceived need than their peers, and by definition not being as successful in the standard setup, would be provided a smaller teacher to student ratio, full of alternative environments and lessons, derived from professional consideration of each child's unique needs. With new approaches to their issues around learning, and a huge increase in personal attention, two weeks of extra class time might indeed give a kid a small boost for the next year.

In reality, we take 27 primary aged students (5 more than the maximum during the year), all of whom are in need of extra attention not less, most of whom are boys in need of massive amounts of movement with smaller and quieter amounts of seat time, and we jam them into a room for two hours a day, for ten days, with a fairly inexperienced teacher who is quickly forced to do the worst but repeatable part of teaching, and a great deal of behavior intervention.

Do we really believe that 20 extra hours of frustrated seat time, practicing the same problems they have already failed, with even less personal attention from adults will make kids MORE successful? Practice does not make perfect. In fact, if not purposeful and thoughtful, practice most often reinforces already poor habits and skills.

Summer school could be what we sell to ourselves and our parents, but in its current implementation it is simply reaffirming negative fixed mindsets about (and for) our kids and setting them up for continued failures. At least they will have lots of practice at it.

This isn't fair!

As educators we are often confronted with the idea of "fair". We struggle to obtain a sense of objectivity we will never reach, with the premise that removing the human fallibility of a teacher will make marking of assignments honest and justified, and the learning for all students equal. It's ironic that our desire for doing what's right for kids has driven us so far down this path of self delusion.

Anyone who has marked exams on a mass scale for their employer can share with you first hand stories of just how different two teachers, sitting side by side, freshly trained for using the same rubric, actively engaged in the evaluation process conversation, can score an actual exam. On a six point scale, I have witnessed a section of markers give a graduation exam essay a 4, while their colleagues all scored it a 6. I'll let @TeachAtwal do the math for you on that, but rest assured the entrance into any number of post secondary institutions will be grossly affected by both of those scores. 

Anyone who has selected a team of 15 kids from 60 trying out knows that while experience and strategy help organize and simplify the process, no amount of fretting will guarantee making the "right" choice about who to keep.

Clear cut evidence of our subjectivity and unique perception of reality surrounds us each school day and yet we stand behind our PLO's, our rubrics, our standardization, our marks books, and our systems, with arms crossed and chin lifted in defiance. What are we so afraid of? Do we value ourselves so little? Have we really lost touch with anything that can't be counted? 

If we want to empower students we need to lead by example, starting with the admission of our own weaknesses and imperfections. There is no "best practice" for all kids, there is no objective robotic way to instruct or evaluate that will create a "fair" playing field for all students. The best any of us can hope to do is just that, our best. Within our own "reality" and our growing skill and knowledge set, in interaction with the complexity that is another human being's reality, set into an ever growing community of learners with both individual and collective needs... all we can do is what we think is best for those involved in that moment. If we remove the human element, we remove the most powerful part of what we do.

quote via @gcouros

P.S. For those who think numbers come before people, regardless if they are customers or employees, I hope you never have to check your child into a hospital run by someone who agrees with you.

"When will what we know, change what we do." Mike McKay

Vaughan Setting an Example (Alyssa Becker photos)

Full disclosure? I tweet a lot. I tweet out links to others blogs all of the time. Many of these blogs are about why educators need to tweet and write blogs themselves as part of their continued commitment to personal growth and learning. As you can see... that makes me somewhat of a hypocrite. I have a blog... 4 actually, and a number of wikis, but... my contribution to them has been less than stellar lately. In fact, I just imported my grad school blog entries and the latest one is from 2009. :( My concern has always been my propensity for verbal diarrhea, and the fact that most of my colleagues are so tired of my voice and opinion by the time a day is done, a blog seems a sadistic and ego centric endeavour. Alas, as I head into a summer with a Communications 11 class waiting for me in next year's schedule, I return to writing as a part of my own learning, so that I can share it authentically with my students in a few months time. I will be looking to my friends, those I see physically, and those I know digitally, for guidance, tips, and support as I navigate my growth, learning, sharing, and holding back. I apologize in advance.