Fatherhood

ParkBlocksElephantPortlandLike most classroom educators, I started teaching before I had children of my own.  Those first few years are interesting to look back on for two reasons.  First, I was only a few years older than my students and I felt (and acted) like an older brother to them.  I offered advice rather than giving orders, and I immersed myself in the culture of prepubescence.

The second reason that I chuckle when I think about those years is that I also believed that I understood parenting.  I thought that I could tell which parents were good at raising children, and which were not.  I privately kept a tally of the kids whose issues in school clearly stemmed from lack of sufficient parenting.  I had a personal Hall of Fame for those parents whose children’s proficiency and maturity demonstrated their own excellence.

What a difference a couple of kids makes, right?  As my own children have grown closer in age to the middle schoolers I teach, I have become more and more aware of the natural range of personalities/skills/challenges that kids can have–many of which have little or nothing to do with the way we raise them.  Kids have unique quirks that make siblings different from each other even when they are brought up in the same household.

I also treat students differently now, acknowledging that firm guidelines (well, firmer) are appreciated and needed for all students.  I still provide choice, but every sandbox I offer has a boundary.  Every hands-on exploration in class begins with a clear safety message.  I have much more of a “parent” mindset than an “older brother” one.

And, perhaps because I teach only middle school boys, this mindset has me practicing fatherhood in new ways.  Most of my students have active dads at home, so I am not playing the part of primary male role model.  My impact on their lives is much more complex and nuanced.

I make them laugh.  I make them think about the world around them.  I make them ask questions.  I give them opportunities to explore things with their hands and their minds that many have never seen before.  The technology I am lucky enough to have in my classroom exposes them to some of the tools of the modern workplace.  My Science Olympiad course provides engineering and tinkering experience.

I let them fail and then help them pick up the pieces.  I answer their questions, but just as often, I ask them more questions.  I try to take them out of their comfort zones, while making them responsible for their own success.  I frequently reflect on their learning and try to get them to do the same.

The learning that I guide is far less important than what these boys get on a daily basis at home.  Being a father means being one of your son’s first and best teachers.  But, what a decade of parenting and teaching has taught me is that raising a child does require the proverbial village and fatherhood can not be a one-man job.

New Projects and New Slide Decks

This summer, I have been fortunate to be invited to present in a variety of locations and on a variety of topics.  I’ve listed a few of them below, and I’d love feedback about what you think should be included when discussing any of these.

  • LiveScribe Smartpens: Flipping Science Instruction 
  • Evernote: Capture it when you see it; Find it when you need it
  • Blogging as Reflection
  • Quick Formative Assessment with MasteryConnect (for Science teachers)
  • Using iPads to improve science literacy (for Science teachers)

As they get closer, I’ll be posting my slide decks and handouts here on the blog, so check back often.

Wait, Isn’t Norm-Referencing Bad?

From http://commons.wikimedia.org

From http://commons.wikimedia.org

I was lucky enough to be in a day-long session last month about assessment and one of the statistical models that is used to measure the value-added by teachers.  Before I start to vent, I want to admit that my statistical background is sketchy at best.  I am also in a particularly frustrated place due to the impact that these models play in the determination of teacher “effectiveness”.

During the presentation, one of the most fundamental aspects of state-wide standardized test analysis was explained to my group and I was floored.  The metric that is used to determine if my students have shown growth (or academic improvement) is not their absolute score on the test.  It is their percentile rank that is expected to improve.  Students who improve at the same rate as the average in the state will have a growth index of zero.

This is akin to lining up all of the students in my state according to their scores.  If this line of students all move five steps (or fifty steps!) forward, they have all made improvement.  By the simplest definition, they have all learned.

But, in the world of high-stakes testing, since none of the students moved “up in line” or improved relative to others, they have not improved.  As a teacher, I have failed them.  Even if they made five hundred steps of forward progress, their growth index is zero.

Perhaps the biggest reason that this frustrates me, is that classroom teachers have been taught for decades that norm-referenced assessments have many weaknesses.  These assessments present students and teachers with a “moving target” since success depends on the performance of others.  Grading on the curve is widely accepted as unfair assessment practice.

Yet, this is exactly what we are doing at the level of standardized tests and teacher effectiveness.  In the interest of continuous improvement, the bar moves from year to year. But, the result is shifting sands beneath our feet that rob educators of the ability to anchor their instructional goals to something concrete.  We are told, “Just keep teaching them the best you can and you’ll do fine.”

But, if large groups of students do better, my evaluation will be negatively affected. In the world of norm-referenced standardized testing, a rising tide can actually sink many ships.  If we were pessimistic about the anti-collaborative effects of standardized testing before this realization, we should be downright fearful that as more educators realize the way that our effectiveness is calculated, corruption will become much more common and teachers will begin to make choices that are not in the best interest of students.

Am I overdoing it on the gloom and doom?  Let me know in the comments.

Uncommon Value of the Unconference

Screenshot_5_5_13_7_19_AMAs I get older and more crotchety, I find myself walking out of more and more professional development sessions.  I’ve written in the past about the limited value that I place on traditional conferences, but it also happens in school- and district-based PD classes.  I usually just take an extended “bathroom break”, and hang out in the hallway/lobby with my iPad or laptop, seeking out better alternatives.

The reasons that I tune out are varied.  Sometimes, it’s because the PD seems aimed at those with much less experience (tech and otherwise) than I have.  Sometimes, it’s because the instructor is ignoring their own advice and using didactic and demeaning teaching methods to push content into my head.  But, often, I tune out simply because I have no interest in what is being taught.

In most cases, my favorite part of any professional development event is not the sessions themselves but the spaces between them.  These are the times and locations that my most meaningful education takes place.  I choose who to interact with and what to discuss, and I have an opportunity to sit face-to-face with a small group of my peers to explore their perspectives and share my ideas.

This is the heart of the “unconference” model that began with EdCamp Philly some years ago.  At EdCamp events, no one prepares slide decks and there is no conference program.  The attendees arrive in the morning with ideas and questions, and the schedule for the day is born from the collaborative efforts of all who attend.  The sessions are conversations that take on their own life as those in the room explore the various strands that emerge.  It’s both exciting and a bit scary, but always rewarding.

The North Carolina version of EdCamp was born in May 2012 and that iteration had some flaws.  But, this year it really took off and felt like one of the most powerful social learning experiences of my career.  Ironically, one of the best sessions was entitled “What makes PD suck?”, in which we discussed all of the same arguments that keep me from enjoying traditional professional development opportunities, as we contrasted what it often is and what we wish it could be.  How meta is a discussion during a great PD experience about why other experiences stink?  And how awesome!

I want to thank everyone who helped make this year’s EdCampNC a truly transformative experience for me, including @plugusin, @kellyhines, @thomasson_engl, @mrhgaddis, @bethanyvsmith, @PCSTech, @mjsamberg, @twilliamson15, @katiehey, @mj_maher, and others who haven’t braved the Twitter yet.  I look forward to seeing you all next year for more learning that truly engages me.

The Absence of Value

medium_3887821803The always awesome Seth Godin posted a quick entry on his blog in January entitled “The cost of neutral“. He discusses an example from the business world, but it applies equally to education. Godin writes,

“Not adding value is the same as taking it away.”

What a powerful statement, particularly in the context of our current furor over “value-added” measures for teachers. It rings true for me in so many ways:

  1. As a teacher, if my students finish my class no better off than they would have been without me, then I have taken something from them… time and motivation.
  2. As a colleague, if I don’t actively participate in collaborative meetings and activities, my team is worse off than if I never attended.
  3. As a teacher leader, if I don’t provide professional development that is meaningful and useful to my staff, they would have been better off anywhere else.

These ring true, don’t they?