This is Why We Owe It To Our Students to Change Education

Posted on January 15, 2012 by Paul Cancellieri

Speaking of continual improvement, from Gina Trapani’s blog, Smarterware, I read this amazing company creed crafted by Automattic (the business behind the open-source WordPress blogging platform and WordPress.com). It’s nearly impossible to read this and not think,

“How many of my students are ready to work in a place like this?“

I will never stop learning. I won’t just work on things that are assigned to me. I know there’s no such thing as a status quo. I will build our business sustainably through passionate and loyal customers. I will never pass up an opportunity to help out a colleague, and I’ll remember the days before I knew everything. I am more motivated by impact than money, and I know that Open Source is one of the most powerful ideas of our generation. I will communicate as much as possible, because it’s the oxygen of a distributed company. I am in a marathon, not a sprint, and no matter how far away the goal is, the only way to get there is by putting one foot in front of another every day. Given time, there is no problem that’s insurmountable.

-Automattic Company Creed (via Smarterware.org)

Maybe the more important question is “What would it take for all of my students to be ready to work in a place like this?”

What do you think?

Priorities

Posted on January 12, 2012 by Paul Cancellieri

I’ve always been one of “those” teachers.

From Day 1, in July 2001, I have continually arrived early, stayed late, and worked my butt off in-between. Even after I had young children of my own, I was lucky enough to have an understanding wife and a situation that has allowed me to put in more hours than I should. I spent this time developing brand-new lesson plans (because nobody else’s were good enough), creating handouts and lab sheets from scratch, and providing detailed feedback to my students.

For years, I watched other teachers pulling out of the teacher parking lot before the final bell had even finished ringing. I watched young novice teachers already recycling old lessons without even considering evaluating their effectiveness and revising them. I preached about the power of digital tools for engaging students while convincing reluctant educators that the extra effort at the beginning was worth it–and then did much of the work for them to ensure their participation.

I knew that most other teachers had it easy. They didn’t spend every waking moment thinking about what they were doing “wrong” and reading about pedagogical research in order to try new methods. They were content in their efforts. Never once, though, did I wish to be one of them. Never once did I try to “turn off” this drive to be more effective in the classroom.

And then, at Thanksgiving, my mother got sick. Eighteen days later, she was gone.

And, I spent weeks buried in a fog of doubt. Time and effort had new importance. I rethought my priorities and reconsidered by ambitions. Why did I spend so much time outside the school day on school work? Why couldn’t I just teach the lessons in the district pacing guide without modification? Why did I think my ideas were so important that I needed to post them online each week?

Christmas came and went. Inspired by the work we had done at my mom’s condo after her death, My wife and I spent the Christmas-to-New Years week cleaning out our own house. Instead of grading papers, I threw out years-old broken toys. Rather than plan out brand-new lessons for a unit I’ve already taught a half-dozen times, I put together new furniture to replace the plastic bins we had been using. Being an active part of my family seemed more important.

And, at the end of the holiday I came back to school ill-prepared for the unit I was to begin. I was greeted by hugs, cards, and gifts from my colleagues. My students showed subtle appreciation for my loss and welcomed me back. The familiar surroundings and daily routine comforted me greatly.

A few days into my return, the urge to improve began to re-emerge. I looked at my students’ faces and saw their apathy toward the lessons I was using. I felt the return of my overachiever streak.

I tossed out the hastily made plans based on the district’s “cookbook”. I got back into the rhythm of informally assessing my students and adjusting my lessons to meet their needs. I slowly began to ramp up my goals for the quarter and looked for ways to reach those who seemed to struggle with the more abstract science concepts of the unit. With my family’s approval I spent more hours at home on school work.

And, eventually, I opened up my blog editor again. And, the keyboard felt like a confessional.

And, it felt good.

Teaching and STEM [TWITA]

Posted on December 11, 2011 by Paul Cancellieri

I’ve had a chance lately to catch up on some of my reading, and I discovered that two of my favorite authors have posted about topics that are near and dear to my heart. I decided it was time for another edition of TWITA: That’s What I’m Talking About.

Teaching as a Human Trait

A few years ago, I wrote about the recent scientific evidence that teaching might be one of the characteristics that makes humans unique. It’s clear that other species learn from one another, but the active teaching of novices by those with more experience appears to be something that only humans do.

Well, Carl Zimmer, the very best science writer in all the world right now, wrote a review of some new data that expands on this idea. I highly recommend it, as it includes some great examples of how difficult it is to define “teaching”.

STEAM is too Hot

Lately, I’ve felt that the endless push for STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) education is misguided. As a science teacher, I enjoy the extra attention (and funding) that has been directed at my discipline, but I don’t think that it will result in the kind of changes that we need. Tim Stahmer, who blogs at Assorted Stuff, agrees and his short explanation makes it really easy to understand why.

I am working on some more meaty stuff, so check back soon. But, in the meantime, enjoy these like-minded bits of reading.

What’s at YOUR Teaching Core? [Guest Post]

Posted on November 20, 2011 by Paul Cancellieri

image credit: Wikimedia Commons user unununium272

This week, I’ve asked friend and fellow educator, Erica Speaks to contribute a post here. She has written for Scripted Spontaneity in the past, and her pieces always lead to some interesting conversations. This one won’t be any different.

“If our core belief is based on what other people think, then we eventually will allow their opinions to become our reality.”

~Darren L. Johnson

Our school is currently developing Core Belief Statements. First, each of our interdisciplinary teams and elective departments generated their own and submitted them to administration. Now these statements have been compiled and shared with the staff. They’ll be used to create Core Belief Statements for our school.

It’s wonderful that this process has opened dialogue, but it begs the question: Does something so personal coincide with asking for a standardized consensus? Perhaps I am borrowing trouble and these statements will be vague enough where everyone can agree, but some people have very passionate beliefs when it comes to teaching and education.

Scripted Spontaneity followers know there’s been recent discussion here about standardization of teachers’ practices. But what about standardization of Core Beliefs? Even if teachers can all agree on a statement like, “We value what is in the best interest of the students,” . . . what if we don’t agree on what that should be? What happens when caring, brilliant teachers who work daily with purpose and precision … don’t agree on what these practices are?

Case in point. This morning, I found myself listening to two colleagues, both whom I admire and highly respect as exceptional educators.

Teacher A: “I really liked the second Core Belief Statement from your team, Mrs. Teacher B. ‘We believe students should not be given a choice to fail.’”

Teacher B: “Yes, we believe they shouldn’t be given the option. We as teachers have to do everything we can. They’re too young to make that decision.”

“They’re too young to make that decision.”

This quote reverberated in my head for the rest of the day. I finally came up with one simple truth: I do not agree.

Conversely, one of my interdisciplinary team’s core statements was:

“Teachers empower students by providing students with the knowledge and skills needed to take control of their lives.”

We adapted it from the National Middle School Association’s Successful Schools for Young Adolescents “Essential Attributes”. Please note the verb “empower”.

A student is empowered when s/he is the one controlling the outcome – his or her own destiny. My mother always said, “There are some things for which a parent can take no credit or blame.” This goes for teachers as well. The credit or blame must belong to the student. A student cannot own his successes…yet not own his failures. You cannot give him ownership for one without giving him ownership of the other. They go hand in hand. Likewise, students cannot be challenged without risk, nor taught accountability without consequences.

Allow me one “metaphanalogy”. If a coach puts a child in a life raft and paddles the boat for him, the fact that the child is technically afloat in water does not mean she has accomplished the job. The child remains passive rather than active in the pursuit, and s/he has not acquired any skills.

Now, I want to be very clear: I believe an accomplished teacher goes to the ends of the Earth for his or her students. (You hand them paddles, swim fins, extra lessons…in the way of reteaching, extra support, differentiated lessons, etc.) My students are allowed to hand in late work, retake tests, and have access to tutoring during my lunch. I provide extensive online support to my students. I collaborate regularly with my PLC and other colleagues. I read educational research. I seek feedback through anonymous surveys from my students. I strive to plan innovative and interactive lessons daily, and remain open to new innovative instructional practices that engage and better serve my students.

I want to be very clear: I am not advocating a “sink or swim” model. I am an accomplished teacher who does everything in my power to help my students help themselves.

However, I maintain it’s a mistake to raise the next generation to think that failure isn’t a very real consequence of some of life’s choices. How can teachers complain about helicopter parents if their philosophy is also to swoop in to save the student from hard lessons at all costs? Is this not the teacher equivalent of the hovering parent? And to middle school teachers who think their students are too young to experience failure…my question is: How old is “old enough”?

I have two sons - five and three – and they are not too young to make decisions that lead to failure. In fact, both have. Moreover, they have even both made decisions when they were aware it led to failure. (Anyone else out there who’s also potty-trained boys knows I speak truth.) But they also know that, failure aside; they are still loved very, very much, and it’s going to be okay. That’s an important life lesson that shouldn’t wait until you’re twelve.

In closing, to all of my sons’ future teachers: I do not want you to assume the responsibility my boys’ failures. Know they will have many, but do not take that away from them, please.

I want them to learn that ‘failure’ is not the end.

The end is when they quit trying.

Self-centered can be Student-centered

Posted on November 13, 2011 by Paul Cancellieri

What bothers me most about the current push toward standardized instruction and scripted curricula is that it treats teachers like interchangeable widgets that can be plugged into any system to yield the same results. It’s not just that it minimizes the importance of teaching experience and mastery. It is creating a system in which the unique qualities of an educator (e.g., teaching style, sense of humor, life experiences) are more than undervalued–they are discouraged.

The ideal classroom in this new vision of instruction would contain 40+ students seated silently absorbing knowledge from the white, female, middle-class “source” (variations in skin color, gender, or values are just a distraction) at the front of the room, who delivers the one, true and perfect lesson that has been mathematically proven to be the most effective for the average child.

As individuals who choose to educate children in a public school setting, our differences are our strengths. When we make choices in the classroom based on our judgment and informed by our experiences, we are doing what is best for our students. Telling a teacher that he or she must utilize the same lesson as his colleagues dampens his enthusiasm and reduces his effectiveness.

In this regard, I know that my opinion differs from that of some colleagues. I know that collaboration can be very powerful for analyzing student performance data and brainstorming intervention strategies. I recognize the importance of this work, but I also feel that a teacher who focuses on her own original lessons and activities can bring important learning experiences into the lives of her children.

Take, for example, a recent field trip that I planned and conducted with the support of my multi-disciplinary middle school team. Based on my experiences as a aquatic ecologist prior to teaching–a rare thing in a world in which most science teachers don’t have science research experience–my students walked to a local lake where they used a variety of chemical tests and equipment to measure its water quality.

It’s a day-long adventure that taught these kids how to do hands-on science, how to appreciate their natural world, and how important environmental stewardship is. It took me months of planning and hours of hard work to pull off, but it is all worth it because there is no better way for me to teach kids about water quality.

But, if this is the best way to teach it, don’t I have the responsibility to share this idea with my PLC? Don’t they have the responsibility to put in the same amount of time and effort as I did? And, if we agree to teach this concept in different ways, doesn’t this fly in the face of the Professional Learning Communities model?

And, more to my point, does this type of “selfishness” benefit students? I think so. I believe that teachers sometimes need to be selfish and blaze their own trail. That’s where innovation comes from… and we need a lot of that these days.