Hello everyone,
My good friend and mentor Tom Woessner has said that "teaching is a calling."
(He might have actually said that "teaching at Garfield is a calling," but the difference between the two statements is insignificant for my current purposes.)
Teaching is something that many of us feel "called' to do. The voice calling us may be our personal deity, our country, our family, our sense of duty, our love of youth, or even our passion for our disciplines--but we hear the voice, and we have accepted it.
I am enough of a realist to know that many of us really just hear the voice of desperation--we have fallen back on teaching because something else in our lives has failed us. (Some of us have heard the voice of desperation and have had it turn to the voice of love of teaching, though.)
Some of us hear the voice calling to us, and we might be better off ignoring it.
But I think the majority of teachers take the calling seriously. The majority of us really want to do right by our students. And the majority of us are able to.
What does this "calling" mean?
It doesn't mean working in isolation. Teaching is a collaborative profession. Really. If you don't have students, you can't teach, which means at the barest level you need to collaborate with someone to even do your job. Accept the reciprocal nature of your relationship with your students; work with them, not against them.
Ditto with the parents. They pay you to be a support to their efforts to accomplish the difficult task of raising a decent human being; work with them.
You're not in competition with each other, either. I understand that, sometimes for your own health, you might insulate yourself from a toxic work environment; but there are friendships to be had and lessons to be shared. Don't let your insulation be impermeable--ever.
Most administrators want what you want. I have always believed that, even before I took an out-of-the classroom position, and even when I worked with some terrible incompetents. Administrators serve an important function in the school; their jobs are hard; their hourly wages are lower than teachers', which means that they have to work more for less (they work more days per year and more hours per day, so their yearly salary is higher). While I think a teachers' job is paramount--and the hardest in the school, I think that administrators perform a vital function. Collaborate with them; help them help you; be clear about what you need them to do and resist being unreasonable.
Some of the anger and frustration we feel in the course of our profession is directed at those we feel, rightly or wrongly, are interfering with our sense of the call. Because of the high stress that our jobs engender, we sometimes react powerfully to things that are not proportional to our reaction. Step back, take a deep breath, look at the proportions of everything, choose battles that are winnable with the fewest casualties (if you must choose a battle), and keep everything in perspective (ie., the kids really are the most important).
We are called to take young humans in varying levels of ignorance (a word which means simply "not knowing") and help them rise to the highest levels of understanding we can in the short time we work with them. We must be efficient, but realize that we aren't working with machines. We must be wise enough to know what we don't know. We must be above them to lift them, but humble in our height.
The "gnosis" (knowledge--the root of "ignorance") we are trying to give them is an agreed upon collection of facts, skills, and wisdom that society requires, combined with our own experience, understanding and wisdom (which should be constantly growing--indeed we will always learn more from our lessons that our students will), leaving out certain beliefs or wisdom that are considered too personal to share with children that are not our own (religion, sex, and politics, for example).
We practically have to be the supreme combination of diplomat, actor, motivator, psychologist, dictionary, encyclopedia, and surrogate parent to accomplish this.
We can't do it without help. We should seek help wherever we can get it, from whatever legal sources public and private we can find. (And if modern teaching is a calling, it's a mendicant calling. We beg for much of what we need.)
Given all of this, we can't forget that we are professionals, not volunteers; we have contacts to fulfill; we have families to support; we have outside interests and duties as well as what we face in school.
Above all we are called to do good--with limited resources, tough conditions, and conflicting responsibilities--we are called to be good.
Tom was right.
Jeff Combe
PS This is likely my last email. Some of you have asked me to continue writing. If it's possible, I will, but I don't know what responsibilities my job will impose on me from now on, so I can't promise. Keep in touch; my email address won't change.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The state of education (in California)
Hello everyone,
Allow me, please, to lament the state of public education, then offer a small suggestion.
It seems to me that the efforts to reform public education in California (and maybe throughout the nation) is the equivalent of trying to buy a Lamborghini with a dollar you found in the street, then demanding the Lamborghini vociferously, then legislating for the Lamborghini with penalties for not providing it but no money to buy it, then suing the Lamborghini company for not providing the car, criticizing the car dealership for not selling the car for a dollar, restructuring the dollar, publicizing how others own Lamborghinis, trying to substitute a Ford for a Lamborghini--which still costs more than a dollar, criticizing everyone who suggests that a Lamborghini really costs more than $100,000, then attempting a government takeover of the used car dealership that doesn't sell Lamborghinis.
Of course, the dollar to Lamborghini price is hyperbole, but the idea is similar.
A study by Stanford University suggested that it may cost more than a trillion dollars to get every school in California to an API of 800 or more. Then they quickly distanced themselves from that idea, suggesting that more efficient use of current resources would allow for lower expenditures. Still, the increase would have to be in the billions.
Since it is difficult to impossible to get the State to fund education the way it should be funded, we are left with a system that tries to reform on the cheap--blaming teachers and administrators for their failure to buy a first-class education at tramp prices.
Garfield, certainly, is fairly swimming in money, federal, state, and private. But what does that money do for us when we can't budget until just before the school year begins? or reduce class sizes for lack of space? or use the money in the way that seems best to the Garfield community? or start the school day at a reasonable hour? or provide sufficient parking? or give B-track a coherent semester? or do more than pay lip service to giving English language learners the individual attention that they need? or have sufficient bilingual teachers to teach students in their primary language when they need it? or prevent violence? or motivate more parents to be involved in school? or maintain our facility without disrupting instruction? or stop truancy? or provide psychiatric services to the students who need it? or stop drug use? or end gang activity?
If you read through the entire list, you know that it would take a huge influx of money to be able to do all the things we need to do.
So we keep trying to do it on the cheap.
Does that mean we should give up?
By all means, no.
But we could make it easier for us all to do our best.
We could relieve stress rather than cause it.
We could share our resources rather than hoard them.
We could allow for a multitude of visions rather than demand our own.
We should be grateful for volunteers rather than demand them.
We can demand more from our students even while recognizing the extreme difficulties they often work under.
I noticed a long time ago that listeners cared little if a pianist is playing in the key of C (easy) or Cb (difficult). If someone chooses to play in C, we should not find fault with their transposition; we should just enjoy the music.
By all means, let us transpose if necessary. And if someone doesn't know how, transpose for them--or teach them how.
It won't buy a Lamborghini, but who needs a Lamborghini if one has music?
Jeff Combe
California Education Reform Meltdown
by: K. Lloyd Billingsley, March 21, 2007
SACRAMENTO, CA ~Last week the capital was abuzz over Getting Down to Facts, the massive series of privately-funded education reports coordinated through Stanford University. The responses to these reports missed some key realities.
The reports confirm that California education is a mess, burdened with a complicated and counterproductive system of finance. To bring every student up to speed under current conditions would cost more than $1 trillion per year, according to one estimate from which the researchers have distanced themselves. According to another, to bring California students in line with the goals of the federal No Child Left Behind Act will require spending increases of 53 to 71 percent.
The full text of the report is at the link below:
http://irepp.stanford.edu/documents/GDF/GDF-Overview-Paper.pdf
Allow me, please, to lament the state of public education, then offer a small suggestion.
It seems to me that the efforts to reform public education in California (and maybe throughout the nation) is the equivalent of trying to buy a Lamborghini with a dollar you found in the street, then demanding the Lamborghini vociferously, then legislating for the Lamborghini with penalties for not providing it but no money to buy it, then suing the Lamborghini company for not providing the car, criticizing the car dealership for not selling the car for a dollar, restructuring the dollar, publicizing how others own Lamborghinis, trying to substitute a Ford for a Lamborghini--which still costs more than a dollar, criticizing everyone who suggests that a Lamborghini really costs more than $100,000, then attempting a government takeover of the used car dealership that doesn't sell Lamborghinis.
Of course, the dollar to Lamborghini price is hyperbole, but the idea is similar.
A study by Stanford University suggested that it may cost more than a trillion dollars to get every school in California to an API of 800 or more. Then they quickly distanced themselves from that idea, suggesting that more efficient use of current resources would allow for lower expenditures. Still, the increase would have to be in the billions.
Since it is difficult to impossible to get the State to fund education the way it should be funded, we are left with a system that tries to reform on the cheap--blaming teachers and administrators for their failure to buy a first-class education at tramp prices.
Garfield, certainly, is fairly swimming in money, federal, state, and private. But what does that money do for us when we can't budget until just before the school year begins? or reduce class sizes for lack of space? or use the money in the way that seems best to the Garfield community? or start the school day at a reasonable hour? or provide sufficient parking? or give B-track a coherent semester? or do more than pay lip service to giving English language learners the individual attention that they need? or have sufficient bilingual teachers to teach students in their primary language when they need it? or prevent violence? or motivate more parents to be involved in school? or maintain our facility without disrupting instruction? or stop truancy? or provide psychiatric services to the students who need it? or stop drug use? or end gang activity?
If you read through the entire list, you know that it would take a huge influx of money to be able to do all the things we need to do.
So we keep trying to do it on the cheap.
Does that mean we should give up?
By all means, no.
But we could make it easier for us all to do our best.
We could relieve stress rather than cause it.
We could share our resources rather than hoard them.
We could allow for a multitude of visions rather than demand our own.
We should be grateful for volunteers rather than demand them.
We can demand more from our students even while recognizing the extreme difficulties they often work under.
I noticed a long time ago that listeners cared little if a pianist is playing in the key of C (easy) or Cb (difficult). If someone chooses to play in C, we should not find fault with their transposition; we should just enjoy the music.
By all means, let us transpose if necessary. And if someone doesn't know how, transpose for them--or teach them how.
It won't buy a Lamborghini, but who needs a Lamborghini if one has music?
Jeff Combe
California Education Reform Meltdown
by: K. Lloyd Billingsley, March 21, 2007
SACRAMENTO, CA ~Last week the capital was abuzz over Getting Down to Facts, the massive series of privately-funded education reports coordinated through Stanford University. The responses to these reports missed some key realities.
The reports confirm that California education is a mess, burdened with a complicated and counterproductive system of finance. To bring every student up to speed under current conditions would cost more than $1 trillion per year, according to one estimate from which the researchers have distanced themselves. According to another, to bring California students in line with the goals of the federal No Child Left Behind Act will require spending increases of 53 to 71 percent.
The full text of the report is at the link below:
http://irepp.stanford.edu/documents/GDF/GDF-Overview-Paper.pdf
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Summer school experiments
Hello everyone,
In my most recent emails, I've been thinking in print about how I'm going to plan my upcoming summer school assignment at Lincoln High School and my regular school assignment at Wilson High School.
Summer school ("intersession" at Garfield) has always been a good time for me to experiment. The course is quick; there is flexibility in time (it's a two-hour block); the students are docile; the atmosphere is more relaxed. Over the years, I've worked my way to the philosophy that summer school needs to be a regular semester, but accelerated; it should not be noticeably easier than the normal semester; it's just leaner in terms of number of activities and assessments and the opportunity to reteach.
It allows a teacher to try a new method of pedagogy or management and see immediate, raw results.
I'm thinking I want to try a different sort of overview in my class this summer.
I always do an overview of what students should expect in the semester; I will keep that. I was thinking more of an overview of the English language. If students understand a little better where English comes from, they might understand better the levels of formality, diction, syntax, tone, spelling, and rhetoric that the California Standards require of them.
Those are things that I used to reserve for my AP class, but I think there's no reason why a regular 10th grade class can't have them. Give the overview, then work on the meaning and examples through the rest of the six weeks. Give them the foundation, and they can better build on it.
I will be working with an unfamiliar textbook, but I can't really experiment with that too profitably because Wilson uses a different text, and I will be teaching different classes. But I can experiment with new ways to use the text for the regular thematic progressions I prefer to organize around: words to phrases to clauses to sentences to paragraphs to essays to research papers; non-fiction to poetry to short fiction to drama to Shakespeare to long fiction (I'm chronological in American lit.); unedited writing to draft writing to edited writing; informal to formal communication; persuasion to exposition to literary analysis.
I've discovered that the McDougall-Littell text has a lot of activities in the text that integrate grammar and writing with the literature. I don't think I can master it fast enough, but being aware of it will allow me to play around with it this summer.
Adapting to new textbooks is an essential part of the life of a teacher. Summer school's short times allow for that.
This will also let me see if I still have the chops to teach this stuff without chasing them all away. Let's hope so.
Jeff Combe
In my most recent emails, I've been thinking in print about how I'm going to plan my upcoming summer school assignment at Lincoln High School and my regular school assignment at Wilson High School.
Summer school ("intersession" at Garfield) has always been a good time for me to experiment. The course is quick; there is flexibility in time (it's a two-hour block); the students are docile; the atmosphere is more relaxed. Over the years, I've worked my way to the philosophy that summer school needs to be a regular semester, but accelerated; it should not be noticeably easier than the normal semester; it's just leaner in terms of number of activities and assessments and the opportunity to reteach.
It allows a teacher to try a new method of pedagogy or management and see immediate, raw results.
I'm thinking I want to try a different sort of overview in my class this summer.
I always do an overview of what students should expect in the semester; I will keep that. I was thinking more of an overview of the English language. If students understand a little better where English comes from, they might understand better the levels of formality, diction, syntax, tone, spelling, and rhetoric that the California Standards require of them.
Those are things that I used to reserve for my AP class, but I think there's no reason why a regular 10th grade class can't have them. Give the overview, then work on the meaning and examples through the rest of the six weeks. Give them the foundation, and they can better build on it.
I will be working with an unfamiliar textbook, but I can't really experiment with that too profitably because Wilson uses a different text, and I will be teaching different classes. But I can experiment with new ways to use the text for the regular thematic progressions I prefer to organize around: words to phrases to clauses to sentences to paragraphs to essays to research papers; non-fiction to poetry to short fiction to drama to Shakespeare to long fiction (I'm chronological in American lit.); unedited writing to draft writing to edited writing; informal to formal communication; persuasion to exposition to literary analysis.
I've discovered that the McDougall-Littell text has a lot of activities in the text that integrate grammar and writing with the literature. I don't think I can master it fast enough, but being aware of it will allow me to play around with it this summer.
Adapting to new textbooks is an essential part of the life of a teacher. Summer school's short times allow for that.
This will also let me see if I still have the chops to teach this stuff without chasing them all away. Let's hope so.
Jeff Combe
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Thoughts on planning and process
Hello everyone,
In my preparation for my return to teaching, I'm at the point of doing the long-term planning for summer school.
The first thing I do is sit down with the calendar and plan out all the fixed dates. Summer school begins on July 7 and ends on August 15. The Mid-term grades are expected on July 24; textbooks are returned on August 14, and final report cards are due on the 15. There is an emergency drill that will take some time out of 1st period on July 17.
I mark all the fixed dates in red ink in my planner, and I try to plan around them in as practical way as possible.
I know that I will need about an hour on July 7 to set up the rituals and routines of my class; students need to know my grading procedures, my rules, important dates, and the overall direction of the class. The final will have to be given on August 13 or 14--I'm not entirely sure how Lincoln does textbook return. I think it could be done in about thirty minutes, which would give us sufficient time to take and grade the final (about 90 minutes). If their return is less efficient than that, I will have to give the final on the day before. I need to finish oral book reports (I can't count on Lincoln's possession and use of the Accelerated Reader) right before the midterm and the final, and they will take two days each time if everyone is ready, so my book reports are due on July 22-23 and August 12-13. Journals and essays are due on Fridays, which means that I need to have at least an hour's worth of independent work on those days for me to grade and return the journals.
Apart from those fixed things, I can start to fill in the blanks with a general structure of my curriculum. In grammar, students need to know clauses and their functions by the end of 10th grade, but they can't understand clauses if they don't know parts of speech and general sentence structure. I don't know how much grammar anyone will know until I give them a diagnostic assessment at the beginning, but I would be surprised if many summer school students are already grammar whizzes, so I'm going to plan to do grammar review of parts of speech and sentence structure for both 10A and 10B, then try to push 10B on to phrases and clauses.
I like to require a descriptive essay as a diagnostic at the beginning of any course. Because it's easy to do and hard to cheat on (they describe something they know personally), it gives me a fairly accurate benchmark of their writing ability. After the diagnostics, I can jump right in to persuasive/expository writing for 10A, and literary analysis for 10B.
It's important for the students to see good models, so I like to do a week of introductory non-fiction, then poetry, then narrative writing in 10A. Larger works (Shakespeare and a novel) in 10B ft the literary analysis requirements.
That's the way I think through a semester plan. I have no detailed lesson plans, yet, and I know that there may be some flexibility required. I'm not quite sure which shorter works I'll use because the textbook (Lincoln uses McDougal Littell) is unfamiliar to me. I'll need to do some reading and decide.
All of the planning took less than an hour, but it has left me pretty confident of my general path for six weeks. It's in pencil, however--life has a way of changing things.
Jeff Combe
In my preparation for my return to teaching, I'm at the point of doing the long-term planning for summer school.
The first thing I do is sit down with the calendar and plan out all the fixed dates. Summer school begins on July 7 and ends on August 15. The Mid-term grades are expected on July 24; textbooks are returned on August 14, and final report cards are due on the 15. There is an emergency drill that will take some time out of 1st period on July 17.
I mark all the fixed dates in red ink in my planner, and I try to plan around them in as practical way as possible.
I know that I will need about an hour on July 7 to set up the rituals and routines of my class; students need to know my grading procedures, my rules, important dates, and the overall direction of the class. The final will have to be given on August 13 or 14--I'm not entirely sure how Lincoln does textbook return. I think it could be done in about thirty minutes, which would give us sufficient time to take and grade the final (about 90 minutes). If their return is less efficient than that, I will have to give the final on the day before. I need to finish oral book reports (I can't count on Lincoln's possession and use of the Accelerated Reader) right before the midterm and the final, and they will take two days each time if everyone is ready, so my book reports are due on July 22-23 and August 12-13. Journals and essays are due on Fridays, which means that I need to have at least an hour's worth of independent work on those days for me to grade and return the journals.
Apart from those fixed things, I can start to fill in the blanks with a general structure of my curriculum. In grammar, students need to know clauses and their functions by the end of 10th grade, but they can't understand clauses if they don't know parts of speech and general sentence structure. I don't know how much grammar anyone will know until I give them a diagnostic assessment at the beginning, but I would be surprised if many summer school students are already grammar whizzes, so I'm going to plan to do grammar review of parts of speech and sentence structure for both 10A and 10B, then try to push 10B on to phrases and clauses.
I like to require a descriptive essay as a diagnostic at the beginning of any course. Because it's easy to do and hard to cheat on (they describe something they know personally), it gives me a fairly accurate benchmark of their writing ability. After the diagnostics, I can jump right in to persuasive/expository writing for 10A, and literary analysis for 10B.
It's important for the students to see good models, so I like to do a week of introductory non-fiction, then poetry, then narrative writing in 10A. Larger works (Shakespeare and a novel) in 10B ft the literary analysis requirements.
That's the way I think through a semester plan. I have no detailed lesson plans, yet, and I know that there may be some flexibility required. I'm not quite sure which shorter works I'll use because the textbook (Lincoln uses McDougal Littell) is unfamiliar to me. I'll need to do some reading and decide.
All of the planning took less than an hour, but it has left me pretty confident of my general path for six weeks. It's in pencil, however--life has a way of changing things.
Jeff Combe
Monday, June 23, 2008
Free association on beginning a new assignment
Hello everyone,
I've been thinking that for the next few days, I would let you into my thought processes as I transition back into the classroom after my two-year hiatus from teaching. I now many of the middle school teachers won't see this email until after the summer is over, and Garfield's C-trackers are still on vacation, but I thought it might be useful for you to know what goes through the mind of an aging veteran as he makes some major career changes.
Let me free associate, if you don't mind.
I'm nervous about going back. I expected that I would--maybe after five years instead of just two, but I missed teaching and have been thinking anyway about how I would go back. Still, I'm nervous. This will be a new show in a new town with a new script and an aging actor. Can I still hold an audience? Have I lost my chops? Are my organizational instincts in line with the new curricular changes?
Summer school will give me a chance to practice on my general pedagogy, but I won't be teaching the same subject at Lincoln's summer school that I'll be teaching at Wilson's regular school.
Wilson's on a "four by four Copernican block schedule" (if I understand it correctly) and my entire sense of timing must be readjusted. Luckily, it's similar to the summer school schedule, but I suspect that it will take me a year to get it down. I need to have "filler activities" in mind in case my timing is too short or too long.
I gave away most of my files because someone needed my file cabinet last year, and someone else needed my files. I will be rebuilding my file collection. That's not bad. Most of my files needed work anyway.
How much do I want to change my classroom practice? It causes me anxiety, but I think it might be fun to see what changes can do for me.
I have thought about my classroom rules. I like to keep my rules simple: Be respectful; do your duty; respect the community. The first allows me to have some flexibility on such things as raising their hands or talking in groups, but I can teach them what respect looks and sounds like. Doing their duty means being on time and doing their work. Respecting the community is a new rule for me, but I don't know the school rules at either Lincoln or Wilson, so it would allow me to give the general rule at both places without having to worry about specifics until I get there.
It might be more poetic to rephrase the rules this way: Respect the class; respect the community; do your duty. Easy to remember that way. I could make it a poster--a mantra--a slogan. Respect---respect--do. I think it covers everything.
I'm looking at planning for the fall. This will be the first time in 17 years I'll be on traditional calendar. I've done it before, but I'm having a really hard time fixing the semester break in my mind. It's supposed to be in February, but I'm used to thinking of at the winter break in December. I need to sit down with a calendar and work it out. That means that, under the Copernican system, I'll teach an entire year's worth of course work from September to February, with lots of holidays in the fall and a three-week break three-fourths of the way through the semester. I need to program some heavy review after Thanksgiving and again at New Year's. In the spring, I'll have a one-week break halfway, which should seem natural, but the rest will be long and tedious. I need to plan for that.
Grammar is always a problem in English. It's usually as boring for the teacher as it is for the students. I don't know how accustomed to grammar the Lincoln and Wilson kids are. Garfield never knew much of it. Here, I could pretty much start at the same grammatical place whether I was teaching 9th or 11th grade. Of course, it's easy to jump from parts of speech to subordinate clauses if the kids are ready for it. I'll have to see after my initial assessments.
I'll do some serious planning tomorrow.
Jeff Combe
I've been thinking that for the next few days, I would let you into my thought processes as I transition back into the classroom after my two-year hiatus from teaching. I now many of the middle school teachers won't see this email until after the summer is over, and Garfield's C-trackers are still on vacation, but I thought it might be useful for you to know what goes through the mind of an aging veteran as he makes some major career changes.
Let me free associate, if you don't mind.
I'm nervous about going back. I expected that I would--maybe after five years instead of just two, but I missed teaching and have been thinking anyway about how I would go back. Still, I'm nervous. This will be a new show in a new town with a new script and an aging actor. Can I still hold an audience? Have I lost my chops? Are my organizational instincts in line with the new curricular changes?
Summer school will give me a chance to practice on my general pedagogy, but I won't be teaching the same subject at Lincoln's summer school that I'll be teaching at Wilson's regular school.
Wilson's on a "four by four Copernican block schedule" (if I understand it correctly) and my entire sense of timing must be readjusted. Luckily, it's similar to the summer school schedule, but I suspect that it will take me a year to get it down. I need to have "filler activities" in mind in case my timing is too short or too long.
I gave away most of my files because someone needed my file cabinet last year, and someone else needed my files. I will be rebuilding my file collection. That's not bad. Most of my files needed work anyway.
How much do I want to change my classroom practice? It causes me anxiety, but I think it might be fun to see what changes can do for me.
I have thought about my classroom rules. I like to keep my rules simple: Be respectful; do your duty; respect the community. The first allows me to have some flexibility on such things as raising their hands or talking in groups, but I can teach them what respect looks and sounds like. Doing their duty means being on time and doing their work. Respecting the community is a new rule for me, but I don't know the school rules at either Lincoln or Wilson, so it would allow me to give the general rule at both places without having to worry about specifics until I get there.
It might be more poetic to rephrase the rules this way: Respect the class; respect the community; do your duty. Easy to remember that way. I could make it a poster--a mantra--a slogan. Respect---respect--do. I think it covers everything.
I'm looking at planning for the fall. This will be the first time in 17 years I'll be on traditional calendar. I've done it before, but I'm having a really hard time fixing the semester break in my mind. It's supposed to be in February, but I'm used to thinking of at the winter break in December. I need to sit down with a calendar and work it out. That means that, under the Copernican system, I'll teach an entire year's worth of course work from September to February, with lots of holidays in the fall and a three-week break three-fourths of the way through the semester. I need to program some heavy review after Thanksgiving and again at New Year's. In the spring, I'll have a one-week break halfway, which should seem natural, but the rest will be long and tedious. I need to plan for that.
Grammar is always a problem in English. It's usually as boring for the teacher as it is for the students. I don't know how accustomed to grammar the Lincoln and Wilson kids are. Garfield never knew much of it. Here, I could pretty much start at the same grammatical place whether I was teaching 9th or 11th grade. Of course, it's easy to jump from parts of speech to subordinate clauses if the kids are ready for it. I'll have to see after my initial assessments.
I'll do some serious planning tomorrow.
Jeff Combe
Friday, June 13, 2008
Some musings on Garfield High School
Hello everyone,
Two years ago, when I first started my current job as PSP adviser for Garfield, I met a PSP adviser from another school.
"You're from Garfield?" he asked.
"Yes. I've been there for 15 years," I said.
"You're the first person from Garfield I've ever met who wasn't angry all the time," he said.
I laughed, "You only caught me on a good day." We shared true stories of Garfield contention, and as the conversation turned to other things, I thought about what he had said, and I have thought about his (completely serious) observation many times. Now that I know I'm leaving, I worry, frankly, that I'm taking that contentiousness with me.
I think back on my seventeen years here, and a large percentage of my memories are about fights among the staff. Really. I have been both observer and participant. I've engaged in fights over the auditorium, over class schedules, over the school newspaper. I've been in shouting matches, memo blizzards, and grievance proceedings. I've gained and lost friends because I agreed with or disagreed with the wrong person at the wrong time (or the right person at the right time). I've been drummed out of the faculty cafeteria and drummed back in.
I've observed fights--spectacular matches: shouting both logical and ill, profanity screamed and spat, fistfights threatened and promised. I've seen secret meetings with whispered innuendos, conspiracies and conspiracy theories, grudges held and nursed for years.
Within my first semester here, I had seen so many arguments that I was a bit shell-shocked. A veteran teacher told me, "Just stay in your room and avoid meetings if you can. You'll need to do that to preserve your health." I have had that advice from veterans on more than one occasion and in more than one circumstance during my time here. Indeed, almost all the fights I've been in or seen on campus have occurred because I didn't always follow that advice.
It's clear from what I write that I can't excuse myself from culpability, and that my ability to point out the problem doesn't mean that I was never a part of it. Frankly, if I have seemed calm in the past few years, and if I have been able to laugh off the dysfunction of our large family here, it's because I have been outside it all with a different job. And I got help from a psychiatrist.
This email is intended for the new teachers, most of whom have had to be helped through the same shock I experienced, and often in the same way. But I expect that many others will read it, so--culpable or not--I would like to say something broadly:
It doesn't have to be this way. You can change this one thing--this constant urge to fight--you can change it to an urge to cooperate, to help, to forgive--and that change alone will open the way to great achievements at Garfield.
It doesn't take much kindness and consideration to help someone through a bad day--one or two words really. It's not that hard to disagree cordially. It's easier to forgive than to hold a grudge.
The Psalmist wrote, "A soft answer turneth away wrath." Even at Garfield, this most cantankerous of schools, I have been the beneficiary of that soft answer as often as I have felt the wrath, and I have learned I much prefer the softness.
In seventeen years of in-fighting, what has been gained? Is the school appreciably better than it was before? Wouldn't our little islands of excellence become continents if we just felt more comfortable joining shores? Is it really worth it to resist forgiving?
For those of you that I leave behind, I beg you to stay and "turn away wrath."
It's possible.
It's really the only way.
Jeff Combe
Two years ago, when I first started my current job as PSP adviser for Garfield, I met a PSP adviser from another school.
"You're from Garfield?" he asked.
"Yes. I've been there for 15 years," I said.
"You're the first person from Garfield I've ever met who wasn't angry all the time," he said.
I laughed, "You only caught me on a good day." We shared true stories of Garfield contention, and as the conversation turned to other things, I thought about what he had said, and I have thought about his (completely serious) observation many times. Now that I know I'm leaving, I worry, frankly, that I'm taking that contentiousness with me.
I think back on my seventeen years here, and a large percentage of my memories are about fights among the staff. Really. I have been both observer and participant. I've engaged in fights over the auditorium, over class schedules, over the school newspaper. I've been in shouting matches, memo blizzards, and grievance proceedings. I've gained and lost friends because I agreed with or disagreed with the wrong person at the wrong time (or the right person at the right time). I've been drummed out of the faculty cafeteria and drummed back in.
I've observed fights--spectacular matches: shouting both logical and ill, profanity screamed and spat, fistfights threatened and promised. I've seen secret meetings with whispered innuendos, conspiracies and conspiracy theories, grudges held and nursed for years.
Within my first semester here, I had seen so many arguments that I was a bit shell-shocked. A veteran teacher told me, "Just stay in your room and avoid meetings if you can. You'll need to do that to preserve your health." I have had that advice from veterans on more than one occasion and in more than one circumstance during my time here. Indeed, almost all the fights I've been in or seen on campus have occurred because I didn't always follow that advice.
It's clear from what I write that I can't excuse myself from culpability, and that my ability to point out the problem doesn't mean that I was never a part of it. Frankly, if I have seemed calm in the past few years, and if I have been able to laugh off the dysfunction of our large family here, it's because I have been outside it all with a different job. And I got help from a psychiatrist.
This email is intended for the new teachers, most of whom have had to be helped through the same shock I experienced, and often in the same way. But I expect that many others will read it, so--culpable or not--I would like to say something broadly:
It doesn't have to be this way. You can change this one thing--this constant urge to fight--you can change it to an urge to cooperate, to help, to forgive--and that change alone will open the way to great achievements at Garfield.
It doesn't take much kindness and consideration to help someone through a bad day--one or two words really. It's not that hard to disagree cordially. It's easier to forgive than to hold a grudge.
The Psalmist wrote, "A soft answer turneth away wrath." Even at Garfield, this most cantankerous of schools, I have been the beneficiary of that soft answer as often as I have felt the wrath, and I have learned I much prefer the softness.
In seventeen years of in-fighting, what has been gained? Is the school appreciably better than it was before? Wouldn't our little islands of excellence become continents if we just felt more comfortable joining shores? Is it really worth it to resist forgiving?
For those of you that I leave behind, I beg you to stay and "turn away wrath."
It's possible.
It's really the only way.
Jeff Combe
Monday, June 9, 2008
Summative assessment
Hello everyone,
Summative assessment is the sort of assessment that you give at the end of everything. It is the summation of the semester; it is the final.
When you give a summative assessment, there's is nothing you can do to use it to correct your teaching. It is the end of whatever you have been teaching. Summative assessments may help you plan for next year, or--if you had it all together--they have previously helped you to plan this year backwards, but there is nothing more you can do for this year's kids after the final test.
Setting up a good summative assessment is a difficult prospect.
First, you must be clear about what you intend to test. Are you testing your students on their skills or their knowledge? Do you want to know how well they read, or how much they know about something? How important is the skill of writing to your summation? Do you think it is important that your students' abilities in English affect their scores? How much will it affect their score if they know something but express it badly? Can you test them without requiring a performance?
The answers to those rhetorical questions will vary according to subject. In English, I test my students' reading and writing abilities as much as their knowledge of figurative language and literary movements. In drama, I test their speaking and listening abilities more than their cold reading. If I were teaching math, I might distinguish between the decoding essential to word problems and the understanding necessary for the order of operations. In social studies, it may be slightly more important that they understand history than that they be able to write about history, but I would want them to write. In science it is important that they understand certain concepts, but it is critical that they know not to hurt themselves in their contacts with science
You need to carefully construct your assessments so that they truly assess what you have taught and what you want the students to know. Never assess what you haven't taught; avoid testing fine points on anything but recent material; never try to trick them.
Some summative assessments are performance based. If the performances are group performances, you must set up the rubric to make every member of the group equally accountable. If the performances are individual, you must set up things in your classroom so that individuals are comfortable performing. (It's too bad when someone fails a final out of shyness, not lack of knowledge.)
I think high school students ought to have a final. They need that pre-college preparation. Finals in high school should be cumulative, but students will not perform well if you test them on intricate details of something you taught four to six months ago. Give them a general idea what will be required; give them time to review; don't try to trick them or sneak up on them.
And please, please, please don't let them cheat. There is nothing wrong with failing someone who cheats, but set up the final day and the final test in such a way that cheating is difficult, and make it very clear that you won't permit it. Don't back down on your threatened consequences for cheating, but try not to put your class in a position that requires heavy consequences.
It's possible to write a test that is difficult or impossible to cheat on, but it takes time and effort to do it. Long essays, for example, are very difficult to cheat on, but also very difficult to correct. Multiple forms of the same test, with the questions in different orders, are do-able with current software, but they are also difficult to correct. Seating the students far apart from each other is the best way, but some classes have too many students. Think it through and plan for possible cheating.
I personally don't think a test should make the difference between passing and failing for an average, motivated student. It may make the difference for marginal students--I don't mean them. Plan the test's value so that it can't drop or raise anyone's grades too much unless you are using performance-based assessment, and the performance represents the culmination of a long period of work.
You have one week to get your test ready, then one week to review for it. The third week from now is finals week at the high school. Think carefully, and plan to give a meaningful, summative assessment.
Jeff Combe
Summative assessment is the sort of assessment that you give at the end of everything. It is the summation of the semester; it is the final.
When you give a summative assessment, there's is nothing you can do to use it to correct your teaching. It is the end of whatever you have been teaching. Summative assessments may help you plan for next year, or--if you had it all together--they have previously helped you to plan this year backwards, but there is nothing more you can do for this year's kids after the final test.
Setting up a good summative assessment is a difficult prospect.
First, you must be clear about what you intend to test. Are you testing your students on their skills or their knowledge? Do you want to know how well they read, or how much they know about something? How important is the skill of writing to your summation? Do you think it is important that your students' abilities in English affect their scores? How much will it affect their score if they know something but express it badly? Can you test them without requiring a performance?
The answers to those rhetorical questions will vary according to subject. In English, I test my students' reading and writing abilities as much as their knowledge of figurative language and literary movements. In drama, I test their speaking and listening abilities more than their cold reading. If I were teaching math, I might distinguish between the decoding essential to word problems and the understanding necessary for the order of operations. In social studies, it may be slightly more important that they understand history than that they be able to write about history, but I would want them to write. In science it is important that they understand certain concepts, but it is critical that they know not to hurt themselves in their contacts with science
You need to carefully construct your assessments so that they truly assess what you have taught and what you want the students to know. Never assess what you haven't taught; avoid testing fine points on anything but recent material; never try to trick them.
Some summative assessments are performance based. If the performances are group performances, you must set up the rubric to make every member of the group equally accountable. If the performances are individual, you must set up things in your classroom so that individuals are comfortable performing. (It's too bad when someone fails a final out of shyness, not lack of knowledge.)
I think high school students ought to have a final. They need that pre-college preparation. Finals in high school should be cumulative, but students will not perform well if you test them on intricate details of something you taught four to six months ago. Give them a general idea what will be required; give them time to review; don't try to trick them or sneak up on them.
And please, please, please don't let them cheat. There is nothing wrong with failing someone who cheats, but set up the final day and the final test in such a way that cheating is difficult, and make it very clear that you won't permit it. Don't back down on your threatened consequences for cheating, but try not to put your class in a position that requires heavy consequences.
It's possible to write a test that is difficult or impossible to cheat on, but it takes time and effort to do it. Long essays, for example, are very difficult to cheat on, but also very difficult to correct. Multiple forms of the same test, with the questions in different orders, are do-able with current software, but they are also difficult to correct. Seating the students far apart from each other is the best way, but some classes have too many students. Think it through and plan for possible cheating.
I personally don't think a test should make the difference between passing and failing for an average, motivated student. It may make the difference for marginal students--I don't mean them. Plan the test's value so that it can't drop or raise anyone's grades too much unless you are using performance-based assessment, and the performance represents the culmination of a long period of work.
You have one week to get your test ready, then one week to review for it. The third week from now is finals week at the high school. Think carefully, and plan to give a meaningful, summative assessment.
Jeff Combe
Friday, June 6, 2008
Civil disobedience and education
Hello everyone,
Civil disobedience is a cherished American tradition. Indeed, it is embedded in our very consciousness, and is regarded as an important method of self-governance. The Declaration of Independence teaches us that we have a duty to rebel against oppressive government; the Constitution enshrines the freedoms of speech and assembly; the American Revolution, the Civil War, and centuries of struggle on behalf of religions, gender, and ethnicities have outlined our rights to foment social change through civil disobedience.
Henry David Thoreau defined civil disobedience as an open defiance of an unjust law, but the idea spreads to our concepts of protest, activism, and labor-organized job actions.
Civil disobedience is at once an American's most powerful tool for change, and a dangerous Pandora's Box of insurrection and anarchy.
We see that dichotomy most clearly in the classroom.
I grew up in the '60s and '70s, when teachers commonly kept posters on the wall quoting Thoreau, and when protesting was felt to be an obligation encumbent on all students who wished to be cool. We barely understood the forces we unleashed when we protested, but we enjoyed the heady fun of having classes cancelled and school officials nervous. We had been taught to protest, but not to think our way clearly through what we were protesting and what we hoped to accomplish by way of the protest. (After Vietnam, civil rights, and gender equality, what was left? The right to disco?)
When teachers engage in civil disobedience--or any kind of protest--they are wielding a sharp, two-edged sword, and it is impossible to predict exactly where the sword will cut.
I knew a teacher some years ago who constantly taught his students that they must question all authority, and that it was important for them to rebel against "the man." He got very upset, however, when his students rebelled against him. What he had meant to teach was, "You should think of me as cool and open-minded; you should consider me to be one who is not duped by the system; you should follow my instructions and nobody else's." What the students understood was, "We should rebel. This teacher is a fool to think that he is one of us, but his ideas give us authority to rise up against him and all others." The students were right.
I don't know if it's possible to teach students that rebellion is good, and that they must rebel--only that they should rebel against somebody else but us. Such teaching is bound to backfire.
However, we can teach them that there are always consequences to rebellion, to civil disobedience, to job actions. We can teach them that we cannot always predict what the consequences may be, and that they may sometimes be extreme--that people sometimes die as a result of rebellion. We can teach them to carefully think through rebellion, and that it is usually better to tolerate current ills than to unleash the violent forces that accompany open disobedience to established norms.
Our students must realize that whoever protests must be willing to accept the full range of consequences that may arise. I have had students in the past who walked out, then were angry when they were given truancies. They clearly had not thought through the consequences of their protest, and they may even have been improperly taught by teachers who romanticized protest to the point of making the protesters believe that they would automatically be rewarded, not punished, for their protest.
Teachers must also teach students that any sort of protest, including civil disobedience, must be understood and practiced on an individual level. When someone joins in a protest because there is pressure to do so, then it is no longer a protest but a mob. The fine line between the sort of rebellion enjoined in the Declaration of Independence and the sort of behavior that a mob engages in is crossed whenever coercion or unjust dominion occurs in any degree. There is, after all, no power of true change that can be derived from the forcing of conscience.
If you got caught up this morning in the heady excitement of joining with your colleagues in a large act of defiant theatricality, you must pause before your students and carefully help them know as many facets of the double blade you were figuratively swinging. They must know that for some of you the decision involved considering the agonizing uncertainty of whether or not you would face firing; for all it means loss of income and retirement; there have been threats (not widely believed) of loss of benefits; the entire protest may have been for naught, and we may still feel the draconian cuts planned by the state; and there may be short and long term consequences that we cannot predict. The excitement of rebellion must be weighed with the price of rebellion, and the decision to rebel must never be made while ignoring the responsibility of rebellion.
This is very nuanced thinking, and teenagers especially need to be guided through it.
Jeff Combe
Civil disobedience is a cherished American tradition. Indeed, it is embedded in our very consciousness, and is regarded as an important method of self-governance. The Declaration of Independence teaches us that we have a duty to rebel against oppressive government; the Constitution enshrines the freedoms of speech and assembly; the American Revolution, the Civil War, and centuries of struggle on behalf of religions, gender, and ethnicities have outlined our rights to foment social change through civil disobedience.
Henry David Thoreau defined civil disobedience as an open defiance of an unjust law, but the idea spreads to our concepts of protest, activism, and labor-organized job actions.
Civil disobedience is at once an American's most powerful tool for change, and a dangerous Pandora's Box of insurrection and anarchy.
We see that dichotomy most clearly in the classroom.
I grew up in the '60s and '70s, when teachers commonly kept posters on the wall quoting Thoreau, and when protesting was felt to be an obligation encumbent on all students who wished to be cool. We barely understood the forces we unleashed when we protested, but we enjoyed the heady fun of having classes cancelled and school officials nervous. We had been taught to protest, but not to think our way clearly through what we were protesting and what we hoped to accomplish by way of the protest. (After Vietnam, civil rights, and gender equality, what was left? The right to disco?)
When teachers engage in civil disobedience--or any kind of protest--they are wielding a sharp, two-edged sword, and it is impossible to predict exactly where the sword will cut.
I knew a teacher some years ago who constantly taught his students that they must question all authority, and that it was important for them to rebel against "the man." He got very upset, however, when his students rebelled against him. What he had meant to teach was, "You should think of me as cool and open-minded; you should consider me to be one who is not duped by the system; you should follow my instructions and nobody else's." What the students understood was, "We should rebel. This teacher is a fool to think that he is one of us, but his ideas give us authority to rise up against him and all others." The students were right.
I don't know if it's possible to teach students that rebellion is good, and that they must rebel--only that they should rebel against somebody else but us. Such teaching is bound to backfire.
However, we can teach them that there are always consequences to rebellion, to civil disobedience, to job actions. We can teach them that we cannot always predict what the consequences may be, and that they may sometimes be extreme--that people sometimes die as a result of rebellion. We can teach them to carefully think through rebellion, and that it is usually better to tolerate current ills than to unleash the violent forces that accompany open disobedience to established norms.
Our students must realize that whoever protests must be willing to accept the full range of consequences that may arise. I have had students in the past who walked out, then were angry when they were given truancies. They clearly had not thought through the consequences of their protest, and they may even have been improperly taught by teachers who romanticized protest to the point of making the protesters believe that they would automatically be rewarded, not punished, for their protest.
Teachers must also teach students that any sort of protest, including civil disobedience, must be understood and practiced on an individual level. When someone joins in a protest because there is pressure to do so, then it is no longer a protest but a mob. The fine line between the sort of rebellion enjoined in the Declaration of Independence and the sort of behavior that a mob engages in is crossed whenever coercion or unjust dominion occurs in any degree. There is, after all, no power of true change that can be derived from the forcing of conscience.
If you got caught up this morning in the heady excitement of joining with your colleagues in a large act of defiant theatricality, you must pause before your students and carefully help them know as many facets of the double blade you were figuratively swinging. They must know that for some of you the decision involved considering the agonizing uncertainty of whether or not you would face firing; for all it means loss of income and retirement; there have been threats (not widely believed) of loss of benefits; the entire protest may have been for naught, and we may still feel the draconian cuts planned by the state; and there may be short and long term consequences that we cannot predict. The excitement of rebellion must be weighed with the price of rebellion, and the decision to rebel must never be made while ignoring the responsibility of rebellion.
This is very nuanced thinking, and teenagers especially need to be guided through it.
Jeff Combe
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Stirking a balance
Hello everyone,
I know I have contributed to the idea that "managing a classroom" is "having total control over the classroom." It's time for me to set the record straight.
Teachers must be able to command unwavering attention periodically; they must have students be respectful to them and others; they must make absolutely certain that the classroom is a safe place to be.
However, teachers who focus inordinate attention on control become tyrants, and tyrants don't make good teachers.
As you plan for the new year, remember the story of a new tree being planted. The growth of a new tree may be easily directed by tying a string around the trunk. If you let the tree grow of its own accord with little early direction, though, you won't be able to redirect its growth without damaging the tree.
Establish the standards of behavior for your class at the beginning of the year, and your students will rarely deviate later.
Once you have established standards of behavior, you shouldn't have to spend a lot of time riding the students. Sometimes you will want the class to be loud; sometimes it needs to govern itself; sometimes a dose of humor will go a long way.
That last notion--the notion of humor--is a powerful one.
I think a sense of humor is the most powerful of all teaching tools. Cultivate your sense of humor, your sense of fun, of joy, of finding happiness in youth. Learn to laugh without cruelty at both yourself and your students.
I confess, it is sometimes difficult to keep from hurting their feelings if they have a sense that you are laughing at them or making them feel ridiculous. (Sometimes they ARE ridiculous. If you point that out to them, you might need to be gentle.) It is also difficult to avoid the temptation to get into a battle of wits with them. Don't do that unless you're certain that you'll win, and you'll win at no cost to them.
If they are honestly funny, honestly laugh.
Additionally, learn that sometimes you need to act on things, and sometimes you need to ignore things. I cannot give a detailed legal discourse on when "acting on" is more appropriate than "ignoring.". I just know that, when I started teaching, I felt that I couldn't ignore anything. I have since learned that, in a normal classroom, a certain amount of innocent shenanigans is best ignored.
I'm trying to get at a fine balance here.
I think that, if your students learn early in the year that you mean business, you won't lose complete control when, later in the year, they learn that you also mean fun. If you respect them as individuals, and discipline their actions not their souls, then you will create a classroom environment where trust, learning, and innocent laughter reign, and tyranny is forever banned.
Jeff Combe
I know I have contributed to the idea that "managing a classroom" is "having total control over the classroom." It's time for me to set the record straight.
Teachers must be able to command unwavering attention periodically; they must have students be respectful to them and others; they must make absolutely certain that the classroom is a safe place to be.
However, teachers who focus inordinate attention on control become tyrants, and tyrants don't make good teachers.
As you plan for the new year, remember the story of a new tree being planted. The growth of a new tree may be easily directed by tying a string around the trunk. If you let the tree grow of its own accord with little early direction, though, you won't be able to redirect its growth without damaging the tree.
Establish the standards of behavior for your class at the beginning of the year, and your students will rarely deviate later.
Once you have established standards of behavior, you shouldn't have to spend a lot of time riding the students. Sometimes you will want the class to be loud; sometimes it needs to govern itself; sometimes a dose of humor will go a long way.
That last notion--the notion of humor--is a powerful one.
I think a sense of humor is the most powerful of all teaching tools. Cultivate your sense of humor, your sense of fun, of joy, of finding happiness in youth. Learn to laugh without cruelty at both yourself and your students.
I confess, it is sometimes difficult to keep from hurting their feelings if they have a sense that you are laughing at them or making them feel ridiculous. (Sometimes they ARE ridiculous. If you point that out to them, you might need to be gentle.) It is also difficult to avoid the temptation to get into a battle of wits with them. Don't do that unless you're certain that you'll win, and you'll win at no cost to them.
If they are honestly funny, honestly laugh.
Additionally, learn that sometimes you need to act on things, and sometimes you need to ignore things. I cannot give a detailed legal discourse on when "acting on" is more appropriate than "ignoring.". I just know that, when I started teaching, I felt that I couldn't ignore anything. I have since learned that, in a normal classroom, a certain amount of innocent shenanigans is best ignored.
I'm trying to get at a fine balance here.
I think that, if your students learn early in the year that you mean business, you won't lose complete control when, later in the year, they learn that you also mean fun. If you respect them as individuals, and discipline their actions not their souls, then you will create a classroom environment where trust, learning, and innocent laughter reign, and tyranny is forever banned.
Jeff Combe
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Some practical considerations at year's end
Hello, everyone,
There are some practical things to consider as the year winds down.
Many of you (especially in the middle schools) will find yourselves teaching for some time after grades are submitted and your text books have been returned.
If you're normal, this may irritate you a little. Don't let it. It's a typical part of the process of closing the school year.
If you know that you'll be without textbooks for a time, plan accordingly. Reserve materials that you can use without the textbook; give assignments that won't require it. Know the day that the textbooks are due, and assume that you won't have much instructional time on that day. Have activities planned that will be engaging and fill time in as interesting a way as you can manage while being productive. (That would be a good day to play a review game, for example.)
After you return the textbooks, you must still teach; just do it with other materials.
Late in the semester, there are days when the grades have been submitted and the year is not over (this happens more in the middle school than the high school). Of course, you won't want to broadcast to your students that the final grades are submitted. At the same time, you will have given summative assessments, and they will not be ready for anything new unless it's VERY interesting or fun. Once again, this is a good time for academic games, enrichment activities, field trips (next year--they must be planned a year in advance), and similar activities.
Your principals would like me to say that parties and non-curricular films are not appropriate.
If you're at the high school, you have finals that you must prepare your students for, so when the textbooks go, be ready to prepare them for the finals from other materials. Once again, it does no one any good for you to rage about it. Plan for it and be prepared. (It's wise to plan for the new year the same way.)
By the way, students love to help put things away. Let them help you with the work of shutting down your classroom. Just keep them in manageable groups.
Another note: Don't let unknown students "kick back" in your classroom without a pass from their regular teacher. Wandering packs of students will occasionally ask for this privilege. Just tell them, if you want to welcome them, that they must have a signed pass from the regular teacher, and that they must remain in your room for the rest of the period. (If you accept them, you're legally liable for them.)
Best of luck at the year winds down.
Jeff Combe
There are some practical things to consider as the year winds down.
Many of you (especially in the middle schools) will find yourselves teaching for some time after grades are submitted and your text books have been returned.
If you're normal, this may irritate you a little. Don't let it. It's a typical part of the process of closing the school year.
If you know that you'll be without textbooks for a time, plan accordingly. Reserve materials that you can use without the textbook; give assignments that won't require it. Know the day that the textbooks are due, and assume that you won't have much instructional time on that day. Have activities planned that will be engaging and fill time in as interesting a way as you can manage while being productive. (That would be a good day to play a review game, for example.)
After you return the textbooks, you must still teach; just do it with other materials.
Late in the semester, there are days when the grades have been submitted and the year is not over (this happens more in the middle school than the high school). Of course, you won't want to broadcast to your students that the final grades are submitted. At the same time, you will have given summative assessments, and they will not be ready for anything new unless it's VERY interesting or fun. Once again, this is a good time for academic games, enrichment activities, field trips (next year--they must be planned a year in advance), and similar activities.
Your principals would like me to say that parties and non-curricular films are not appropriate.
If you're at the high school, you have finals that you must prepare your students for, so when the textbooks go, be ready to prepare them for the finals from other materials. Once again, it does no one any good for you to rage about it. Plan for it and be prepared. (It's wise to plan for the new year the same way.)
By the way, students love to help put things away. Let them help you with the work of shutting down your classroom. Just keep them in manageable groups.
Another note: Don't let unknown students "kick back" in your classroom without a pass from their regular teacher. Wandering packs of students will occasionally ask for this privilege. Just tell them, if you want to welcome them, that they must have a signed pass from the regular teacher, and that they must remain in your room for the rest of the period. (If you accept them, you're legally liable for them.)
Best of luck at the year winds down.
Jeff Combe
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Stress
Hello everyone,
I received an email reporting that Health Magazine lists "inner-city high school teacher" as the number 1 most stressful job. While other lists report other jobs as most stressful, and while the middle school teachers among us would be willing to go head to head with the high-schoolers on which is the more stressful job, I think it is fairly safe to say that our jobs are stressful, regardless of who's number one.
I did some other reading after receiving the email (I include some links at the bottom of this email), and I've thought of my own levels of job stress over the years, and I think I can give some advice on this issue--more from personal experience than from hard research, but with some research to back me up if you need it.
Many people rank job stress as a major challenge, and the symptoms of job stress (yelling at each other, physical threats, susceptibility to sickness) have a way of creating more stress.
It's interesting to note that the stress of a job is not always the job itself; rather, it is the milieu that the job happens in. For secondary teachers in East LA, apart from the normal stress of teaching teenagers, there is the additional stress of helping them through such problems as pregnancy, drug use, and gang affiliation--not to mention the stresses of working in a large bureaucracy.
Still, an important thing that I have discovered is that, for me, it is more stressful to have things be easy than to have things be challenging. I thrive on challenges--less now than maybe twenty years ago, but I still prefer a job that requires something out of me over a job that allows me to sit around and do nothing. The latter is extremely stressful for me; the former is more exhilarating than stressful.
That leads to an important idea: We don't necessarily want to eliminate the stresses of our lives. We really want to manage them.
In LA Unified, that can be difficult sometimes, but it's possible.
For me, the most important tool for relieving stress is exercise. Really. I obviously haven't been exercising enough to lose much weight, but I have learned from sad experience how essential it is to manage stress. Even 15 minutes a day is sufficient to de-stress.
Along with exercise is diet. If you're not eating a healthy, balanced diet, you will feel your stress levels rise. Of course, when my stress level rises, I eat more, and I seek "comfort foods," which are high calorie. (When I figure out how to conquer this completely, I'll let you know--meanwhile, my girth is a testament to my struggle). Still, the more I eat of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains, the less I have room for the more unhealthy foods that represent my downfall, and the better I manage my stress.
I think it is very important to have a cut-off line between work time and personal time. Teachers are sometimes made to feel that they must give every minute of every day to the profession or they are inferior teachers. Don't fall into that trap. Be the best you can be at work; give yourself fully and professionally; enjoy what you do at high intensity--then end it when the time comes.
Finally, seek friends among your peers and co-workers. Have someone to talk to. My friends at Garfield have been filter and purifier of all my negative stress, and many times they have given me a kind word when I was at the brink of discouragement (or across the brink). Have someone that will do that for you, then go BE someone that will do that for others.
Listed below are links to some websites that have information on work-place stress.
Jeff Combe
Information on job stress and how to cope:
http://www.health.com/health/library/mdp/0,,ta5662_ta5662-sec,00.html
http://www.stress.org/job.htm
Various interesting lists on stressful jobs:
http://cord.acadiau.ca/documents/StressFacts.pdf
http://www.wctv.tv/news/headlines/17373899.html
I received an email reporting that Health Magazine lists "inner-city high school teacher" as the number 1 most stressful job. While other lists report other jobs as most stressful, and while the middle school teachers among us would be willing to go head to head with the high-schoolers on which is the more stressful job, I think it is fairly safe to say that our jobs are stressful, regardless of who's number one.
I did some other reading after receiving the email (I include some links at the bottom of this email), and I've thought of my own levels of job stress over the years, and I think I can give some advice on this issue--more from personal experience than from hard research, but with some research to back me up if you need it.
Many people rank job stress as a major challenge, and the symptoms of job stress (yelling at each other, physical threats, susceptibility to sickness) have a way of creating more stress.
It's interesting to note that the stress of a job is not always the job itself; rather, it is the milieu that the job happens in. For secondary teachers in East LA, apart from the normal stress of teaching teenagers, there is the additional stress of helping them through such problems as pregnancy, drug use, and gang affiliation--not to mention the stresses of working in a large bureaucracy.
Still, an important thing that I have discovered is that, for me, it is more stressful to have things be easy than to have things be challenging. I thrive on challenges--less now than maybe twenty years ago, but I still prefer a job that requires something out of me over a job that allows me to sit around and do nothing. The latter is extremely stressful for me; the former is more exhilarating than stressful.
That leads to an important idea: We don't necessarily want to eliminate the stresses of our lives. We really want to manage them.
In LA Unified, that can be difficult sometimes, but it's possible.
For me, the most important tool for relieving stress is exercise. Really. I obviously haven't been exercising enough to lose much weight, but I have learned from sad experience how essential it is to manage stress. Even 15 minutes a day is sufficient to de-stress.
Along with exercise is diet. If you're not eating a healthy, balanced diet, you will feel your stress levels rise. Of course, when my stress level rises, I eat more, and I seek "comfort foods," which are high calorie. (When I figure out how to conquer this completely, I'll let you know--meanwhile, my girth is a testament to my struggle). Still, the more I eat of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains, the less I have room for the more unhealthy foods that represent my downfall, and the better I manage my stress.
I think it is very important to have a cut-off line between work time and personal time. Teachers are sometimes made to feel that they must give every minute of every day to the profession or they are inferior teachers. Don't fall into that trap. Be the best you can be at work; give yourself fully and professionally; enjoy what you do at high intensity--then end it when the time comes.
Finally, seek friends among your peers and co-workers. Have someone to talk to. My friends at Garfield have been filter and purifier of all my negative stress, and many times they have given me a kind word when I was at the brink of discouragement (or across the brink). Have someone that will do that for you, then go BE someone that will do that for others.
Listed below are links to some websites that have information on work-place stress.
Jeff Combe
Information on job stress and how to cope:
http://www.health.com/health/library/mdp/0,,ta5662_ta5662-sec,00.html
http://www.stress.org/job.htm
Various interesting lists on stressful jobs:
http://cord.acadiau.ca/documents/StressFacts.pdf
http://www.wctv.tv/news/headlines/17373899.html
Friday, May 23, 2008
A bit of sentiment
Hello everyone,
Maybe it's the cloudy weather, but I'm feeling a little sentimental today.
I've decided it's time to officially announce that I won't be in the position of PSP adviser next year. In fact, the position won't exist in the Garfield cluster because of budget cuts.
Since Garfield is losing so many teachers because of dropping enrollment, I have decided to bow to reality and look for a teaching job in another school. When I know where I'm going, I'll let you all know.
I told you that to tell you this:
I've been at Garfield for 17 years. Most of the class of 2008 were in their early infancy when I came to Garfield in July of 1991. I came with some students who had been in my classroom at Belvedere, and I had the chance to watch them grow and mature over the next three years. Two of them teach at Garfield now.
I have served under five principals and at least two interim principals. During those 17 years, I saw riots, fires, terrorist attacks, budget crises, school shootings, two major schedule changes, the transition to digital record keeping, SLCs, dozens of improvement initiatives, and a state takeover. I have directed or helped direct more than 30 plays and uncountable videos; I have seen several score students take the AP exam; I've had students succeed and fail at both the best and worst universities in America; I've had triumphs and disappointments.
I confess that my work lately has been a little melancholy. I'm not retiring, nor do I have the investment of time here that many of my colleagues have. Still, I can't help but love this place that can't decide if it's going to be the best or the worst in America, and fights for the privilege of being both.
I have chosen now to write this, but I'm going to be around for another month, and I'm frankly happiest when I'm busiest, so I intend to work. You'll see me around carrying my notepad and a novel for the next month. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There's still a chance for Garfield to decide to end the fight and just be great, and I wouldn't mind working for that.
But the clouds are gray, and--today--I'm a bit sentimental.
Jeff Combe
Maybe it's the cloudy weather, but I'm feeling a little sentimental today.
I've decided it's time to officially announce that I won't be in the position of PSP adviser next year. In fact, the position won't exist in the Garfield cluster because of budget cuts.
Since Garfield is losing so many teachers because of dropping enrollment, I have decided to bow to reality and look for a teaching job in another school. When I know where I'm going, I'll let you all know.
I told you that to tell you this:
I've been at Garfield for 17 years. Most of the class of 2008 were in their early infancy when I came to Garfield in July of 1991. I came with some students who had been in my classroom at Belvedere, and I had the chance to watch them grow and mature over the next three years. Two of them teach at Garfield now.
I have served under five principals and at least two interim principals. During those 17 years, I saw riots, fires, terrorist attacks, budget crises, school shootings, two major schedule changes, the transition to digital record keeping, SLCs, dozens of improvement initiatives, and a state takeover. I have directed or helped direct more than 30 plays and uncountable videos; I have seen several score students take the AP exam; I've had students succeed and fail at both the best and worst universities in America; I've had triumphs and disappointments.
I confess that my work lately has been a little melancholy. I'm not retiring, nor do I have the investment of time here that many of my colleagues have. Still, I can't help but love this place that can't decide if it's going to be the best or the worst in America, and fights for the privilege of being both.
I have chosen now to write this, but I'm going to be around for another month, and I'm frankly happiest when I'm busiest, so I intend to work. You'll see me around carrying my notepad and a novel for the next month. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There's still a chance for Garfield to decide to end the fight and just be great, and I wouldn't mind working for that.
But the clouds are gray, and--today--I'm a bit sentimental.
Jeff Combe
Friday, May 16, 2008
Writing objectives: some late year review
Hello everyone,
I think a sign of a great teacher is the ability to take a difficult concept and make it understandable and memorable.
That begins with a clear objective.
You should have two things in mind when you write lesson objectives: 1, what will the students know or be able to do at the end of the lesson, and 2, how will they demonstrate their knowledge?
(The second part of the objective will be your assessment.)
Let me show you the process I might take to develop objectives for a lesson in English.
Let me pretend that I'm teaching 10th Grade English, second semester. Let me pretend that Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is still one of the required works of literature for 10th grade. At the end of this email, I have included all the California State Standards for Narrative Analysis of Grade-Level-Appropriate Text. Right now, pretend that I've chosen Standard 3.4: "Determine characters' traits by what the characters say about themselves in narration, dialogue, dramatic monologue, and soliloquy."
I have chosen this objective because in our class reading, we are approaching Act III of Julius Caesar, and I know that Antony's famous funeral speech ("Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!") is a perfect time to teach Standard 3.4.
Here is the first half of my objective: "Students will be able to determine Mark Antony's character traits (ie, duplicity, manipulation, cynicism, and political opportunism) by what he says in his dramatic monologue at Caesar's funeral." (Note how easy it is for me to reword the standard to reflect my objective.)
The second half of my objective will show how I will assess them: "Students will demonstrate this ability by giving oral responses to teacher questions requiring the students to interpret clues to Antony's character in the final portion of the speech with 80% accuracy or better after being randomly selected to give an interpretation." (It's a long speech; I can save the last hundred lines or so for my assessment and use the rest to teach the standard.)
Put the two elements together, and that will be my objective. It will also tell me my assessment. In between, I will need to plan a variety of things. There is some language they won't know, including the words I'm using to describe the character traits (we'll have to do some vocabulary scaffolding); they might not understand the historical setting; they will likely assume that Antony is being straightforward, and that since he has been called a "noble" Roman, he really is (we will have to review some of his previous actions); and they won't notice or understand why Brutus spoke in prose, but Antony is speaking in poetry (and how that gives the lie to Antony's declaration that he is not a great orator like Brutus).
I see that we might have to go slowly. I may need to take a few days, and then it will get really boring if I'm not careful. What can I do to make it interesting? Staged readings? Rewritten speeches in modern language? Improvisations based on the characters Brutus and Antony? Games based on the scaffolding I'll be doing with vocabulary? In all of this, I will need to leave the last part of Antony's speech untouched so that I can use it for my assessment.
I have enough possibilities in mind now to go ahead and plan the rest of the lesson, including some of the activities that I had in mind.
But I've started with a two part objective that is clear and specific and based on the state standards and includes an assessment.
And there's a much better chance that they won't be confused about what I'm trying to teach them (despite all the scaffolding and side tracking over vocabulary and versification) because I can tell them right from the start where we're headed with all this.
Of course, when I'm finished, I might find out that I'm not yet a great teacher (my students might be totally confused), but I know where I was supposed to go, and I know what I wanted from the journey, and if my students don't get it, I'm at least smart enough to try to figure out why.
Besides, it's a long play. I can reteach in Acts IV and V if I have to.
Jeff Combe
3.0 Literary Response and Analysis
Students read and respond to historically or culturally significant works of literature that reflect and enhance their studies of history and social science. They conduct in-depth analyses of recurrent patterns and themes. The selections in Recommended Literature, Kindergarten Through Grade Twelve illustrate the quality and complexity of the materials to be read by students.
Narrative Analysis of Grade-Level-Appropriate Text
3.3 Analyze interactions between main and subordinate characters in a literary text (e.g., internal and external conflicts, motivations, relationships, influences) and explain the way those interactions affect the plot.
3.4 Determine characters' traits by what the characters say about themselves in narration, dialogue, dramatic monologue, and soliloquy.
3.5 Compare works that express a universal theme and provide evidence to support the ideas expressed in each work.
3.6 Analyze and trace an author's development of time and sequence, including the use of complex literary devices (e.g., foreshadowing, flashbacks).
3.7 Recognize and understand the significance of various literary devices, including figurative language, imagery, allegory, and symbolism, and explain their appeal.
3.8 Interpret and evaluate the impact of ambiguities, subtleties, contradictions, ironies, and incongruities in a text.
3.9 Explain how voice, persona, and the choice of a narrator affect characterization and the tone, plot, and credibility of a text.
3.10 Identify and describe the function of dialogue, scene designs, soliloquies, asides, and character foils in dramatic literature.
I think a sign of a great teacher is the ability to take a difficult concept and make it understandable and memorable.
That begins with a clear objective.
You should have two things in mind when you write lesson objectives: 1, what will the students know or be able to do at the end of the lesson, and 2, how will they demonstrate their knowledge?
(The second part of the objective will be your assessment.)
Let me show you the process I might take to develop objectives for a lesson in English.
Let me pretend that I'm teaching 10th Grade English, second semester. Let me pretend that Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is still one of the required works of literature for 10th grade. At the end of this email, I have included all the California State Standards for Narrative Analysis of Grade-Level-Appropriate Text. Right now, pretend that I've chosen Standard 3.4: "Determine characters' traits by what the characters say about themselves in narration, dialogue, dramatic monologue, and soliloquy."
I have chosen this objective because in our class reading, we are approaching Act III of Julius Caesar, and I know that Antony's famous funeral speech ("Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!") is a perfect time to teach Standard 3.4.
Here is the first half of my objective: "Students will be able to determine Mark Antony's character traits (ie, duplicity, manipulation, cynicism, and political opportunism) by what he says in his dramatic monologue at Caesar's funeral." (Note how easy it is for me to reword the standard to reflect my objective.)
The second half of my objective will show how I will assess them: "Students will demonstrate this ability by giving oral responses to teacher questions requiring the students to interpret clues to Antony's character in the final portion of the speech with 80% accuracy or better after being randomly selected to give an interpretation." (It's a long speech; I can save the last hundred lines or so for my assessment and use the rest to teach the standard.)
Put the two elements together, and that will be my objective. It will also tell me my assessment. In between, I will need to plan a variety of things. There is some language they won't know, including the words I'm using to describe the character traits (we'll have to do some vocabulary scaffolding); they might not understand the historical setting; they will likely assume that Antony is being straightforward, and that since he has been called a "noble" Roman, he really is (we will have to review some of his previous actions); and they won't notice or understand why Brutus spoke in prose, but Antony is speaking in poetry (and how that gives the lie to Antony's declaration that he is not a great orator like Brutus).
I see that we might have to go slowly. I may need to take a few days, and then it will get really boring if I'm not careful. What can I do to make it interesting? Staged readings? Rewritten speeches in modern language? Improvisations based on the characters Brutus and Antony? Games based on the scaffolding I'll be doing with vocabulary? In all of this, I will need to leave the last part of Antony's speech untouched so that I can use it for my assessment.
I have enough possibilities in mind now to go ahead and plan the rest of the lesson, including some of the activities that I had in mind.
But I've started with a two part objective that is clear and specific and based on the state standards and includes an assessment.
And there's a much better chance that they won't be confused about what I'm trying to teach them (despite all the scaffolding and side tracking over vocabulary and versification) because I can tell them right from the start where we're headed with all this.
Of course, when I'm finished, I might find out that I'm not yet a great teacher (my students might be totally confused), but I know where I was supposed to go, and I know what I wanted from the journey, and if my students don't get it, I'm at least smart enough to try to figure out why.
Besides, it's a long play. I can reteach in Acts IV and V if I have to.
Jeff Combe
3.0 Literary Response and Analysis
Students read and respond to historically or culturally significant works of literature that reflect and enhance their studies of history and social science. They conduct in-depth analyses of recurrent patterns and themes. The selections in Recommended Literature, Kindergarten Through Grade Twelve illustrate the quality and complexity of the materials to be read by students.
Narrative Analysis of Grade-Level-Appropriate Text
3.3 Analyze interactions between main and subordinate characters in a literary text (e.g., internal and external conflicts, motivations, relationships, influences) and explain the way those interactions affect the plot.
3.4 Determine characters' traits by what the characters say about themselves in narration, dialogue, dramatic monologue, and soliloquy.
3.5 Compare works that express a universal theme and provide evidence to support the ideas expressed in each work.
3.6 Analyze and trace an author's development of time and sequence, including the use of complex literary devices (e.g., foreshadowing, flashbacks).
3.7 Recognize and understand the significance of various literary devices, including figurative language, imagery, allegory, and symbolism, and explain their appeal.
3.8 Interpret and evaluate the impact of ambiguities, subtleties, contradictions, ironies, and incongruities in a text.
3.9 Explain how voice, persona, and the choice of a narrator affect characterization and the tone, plot, and credibility of a text.
3.10 Identify and describe the function of dialogue, scene designs, soliloquies, asides, and character foils in dramatic literature.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Some thoughts on technology in the classroom
Hello everyone,
A teacher sent me the following email:
Dear Dr. Combe,
I went over your past e-mails and I noticed that you have not written anything about the use of technology inside the classroom. Please enlighten me in this matter especially
a. What specific role does technology play in my class? b. How could I maximize the use of technology to my students who do not have access to the Internet at home?
In my box this morning, Ms. Karpin handed out fliers giving a list of computer terminologies to teachers who are technologically challenged like me. When I went over the list, majority of the words are so alien to me.
My concern is that I am one of those teachers who is content with the use of just one or two programs in the computer (Microsoft Word and Excel). For me, these are enough for my teaching needs. I find it very challenging to use the more advanced technologies in the market today because I feel that they only get more and more updated everyday and as soon as I have finished studying one, a bigger and more advanced program comes in.
Am I denying my students the chance to be technologically ready when I myself find it difficult to do so?
I must confess that I have a lot of ambivalence to the idea that we must use technology in the classroom. First, I'm an English teacher, and I maintain that all that's required to teach English is a book, a pen, and some paper. Second, I've learned from hard experience that a heavy reliance on technology can easily backfire when the technology fails, which it frequently does. Third, I must acknowledge that I am an immigrant to the Country of Technology; my students, however, are all native born; therefore, there is little that I can teach them that they don't already know, except for a few applications which they rapidly learn to do better than I.
On the other hand, I recognize that technology is a tool. Some forms of technology are better tools than others, but taken as a whole, modern technology (computer applications, communications, video, and audio--specifically) is the greatest collection of classroom tools the world has ever seen. Certainly I can teach my subject with only a book, a pen, and some paper, but why would I want to when I have so many other tools available to me?
Here are some ways I used technology:
In my classes, my students learned the language of video, then produced their own videos. I downloaded and printed books in the public domain for use in the classroom. I taught the proper format for research papers, then allowed my students to do the research online and have their computers arrange the format. (Then I used the Internet to find out who had plagiarized; I may be an immigrant to the virtual world, but I'm no fool.)
I have seen technology used well in other subjects while I've been visiting classrooms. I saw delightfully animated PowerPoint presentations introducing math concepts. I've seen film clips from YouTube used to introduce concepts in social studies and science. Every exotic or bizarre concept in every science can now be seen online, and the most recent advances in knowledge are available almost immediately. Calculators can perform amazing functions now. Experiments can be simulated--even dissection can be virtual.
For management tools, there is an electronic rollbook, which I have used for more than a decade, and which I can't imagine abandoning for the old handwritten variety. My students regularly email me (still! after all these years) to help correct their essays (from college!). I call parents with my cell phone, right from class, right when their child is misbehaving. I have used my cell phone camera to catch taggers and ditchers in the act.
For teaching, projection devices are far better than they were only a few years ago, and I would use them to project papers for peer editing, photographs, documents, and short videos. I kept my computer open to online dictionaries so that I had immediate access to a lexicon in twenty languages.
For students who don't have the Internet or a wordprocessor at home, I invite them to the library after school--or my classroom at lunch. Access is now universal.
And if it breaks down? I always have what I always had: my books, some pens, some paper, and a blackboard.
Jeff Combe
PS. When I don't know how to do something, I just ask my students. They know.
A teacher sent me the following email:
Dear Dr. Combe,
I went over your past e-mails and I noticed that you have not written anything about the use of technology inside the classroom. Please enlighten me in this matter especially
a. What specific role does technology play in my class? b. How could I maximize the use of technology to my students who do not have access to the Internet at home?
In my box this morning, Ms. Karpin handed out fliers giving a list of computer terminologies to teachers who are technologically challenged like me. When I went over the list, majority of the words are so alien to me.
My concern is that I am one of those teachers who is content with the use of just one or two programs in the computer (Microsoft Word and Excel). For me, these are enough for my teaching needs. I find it very challenging to use the more advanced technologies in the market today because I feel that they only get more and more updated everyday and as soon as I have finished studying one, a bigger and more advanced program comes in.
Am I denying my students the chance to be technologically ready when I myself find it difficult to do so?
I must confess that I have a lot of ambivalence to the idea that we must use technology in the classroom. First, I'm an English teacher, and I maintain that all that's required to teach English is a book, a pen, and some paper. Second, I've learned from hard experience that a heavy reliance on technology can easily backfire when the technology fails, which it frequently does. Third, I must acknowledge that I am an immigrant to the Country of Technology; my students, however, are all native born; therefore, there is little that I can teach them that they don't already know, except for a few applications which they rapidly learn to do better than I.
On the other hand, I recognize that technology is a tool. Some forms of technology are better tools than others, but taken as a whole, modern technology (computer applications, communications, video, and audio--specifically) is the greatest collection of classroom tools the world has ever seen. Certainly I can teach my subject with only a book, a pen, and some paper, but why would I want to when I have so many other tools available to me?
Here are some ways I used technology:
In my classes, my students learned the language of video, then produced their own videos. I downloaded and printed books in the public domain for use in the classroom. I taught the proper format for research papers, then allowed my students to do the research online and have their computers arrange the format. (Then I used the Internet to find out who had plagiarized; I may be an immigrant to the virtual world, but I'm no fool.)
I have seen technology used well in other subjects while I've been visiting classrooms. I saw delightfully animated PowerPoint presentations introducing math concepts. I've seen film clips from YouTube used to introduce concepts in social studies and science. Every exotic or bizarre concept in every science can now be seen online, and the most recent advances in knowledge are available almost immediately. Calculators can perform amazing functions now. Experiments can be simulated--even dissection can be virtual.
For management tools, there is an electronic rollbook, which I have used for more than a decade, and which I can't imagine abandoning for the old handwritten variety. My students regularly email me (still! after all these years) to help correct their essays (from college!). I call parents with my cell phone, right from class, right when their child is misbehaving. I have used my cell phone camera to catch taggers and ditchers in the act.
For teaching, projection devices are far better than they were only a few years ago, and I would use them to project papers for peer editing, photographs, documents, and short videos. I kept my computer open to online dictionaries so that I had immediate access to a lexicon in twenty languages.
For students who don't have the Internet or a wordprocessor at home, I invite them to the library after school--or my classroom at lunch. Access is now universal.
And if it breaks down? I always have what I always had: my books, some pens, some paper, and a blackboard.
Jeff Combe
PS. When I don't know how to do something, I just ask my students. They know.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Mark 'em up
Hello everyone,
A long time ago, I was talking to a brilliant young musician who was still in high school. Our conversation drifted to his school experience, and he spoke about an English teacher he valued.
According to him, the most useful thing the teacher did was give many detailed comments on his essays--so much so that he joked that the papers looked bled on.
He confessed that he sometimes felt a little chagrin about the amount of marks on the papers, but it was a matter of personal necessity for him. He could not progress unless he knew what he was doing wrong, and he couldn't know what was wrong without the marks. He hated teachers that gave him papers with no specific comments on them.
Other students I have spoken to have talked about the frustration they felt when they went to their teachers to find out what they had done wrong, only to be told by the teacher that they should find the error on their own. (This might be a legitimate teaching method for times when the teacher is trying to get the kids to practice peer or self editing. In this case, the teacher used it for all occasions. There was an absolute refusal to help the student know what was wrong, so the kid gave up.)
Practically speaking, a teacher will not have time to thoroughly mark every single paper that crosses the teacher's desk, unless the teacher severely limits the amount of work the students do for the class.
I think that students need lots of practice--especially with writing--and that teachers ought to give frequent and explicit feedback.
Choose specific and regular assignments and tell your students that those will have complete comments. They may be interactive journals, labs, essays, research projects, or exercises. (I don't recommend detailed correcting of essay tests--they take too long to correct, and students are anxious to get tests back. Invite students with questions to have more detailed analysis of their test scores if they'd like. Keep feedback brief, or you'll be grading tests forever.)
Should you use red? There have apparently been complaints from some parents and students that using red means gang association or recalls the trauma of seeing real blood. I personally never had that complaint, and always found red an easy color to see. Whatever you choose should have enough contrast from the students' own papers that your comments are easy to read. If red is a problem, use something else.
If comments become repetitive, feel free to say something like, "Errors continue as noted above," or general comments such as "Please correct your spelling."
My handwriting was practically illegible for my students, so I gave a five minute course in how to read my shorthand editorial symbols.
As an English teacher, I noticed that my students often handed in their rough draft as a final draft. When they got it back full of marks, I gave them the option to rewrite for a higher grade. (They had to improve the paper for the higher grade.) I did not mark rewrites or papers handed in late.
Let them know what they need to do to grow. Don't be afraid of explaining their grades to them. Positive or negative, let them know where they stand and what the path to improvement looks like.
Jeff Combe
Friday, May 2, 2008
What to do when they have senioritis
Hello everyone,
I was talking to someone the other day about what to do with students that have given up.
It's the end of the semester--for seniors it's the end of high school. You all remember what it's like. The sports metaphors work best, maybe--the runner's hit the wall. The second wind hasn't come yet. The endorphins haven't kicked in. It's painful, and the end seems too far away and too difficult to attain.
What would a coach do to a runner in that situation?
Most of the coaches I know relentlessly shout encouragement at their runners. They try to refocus the runner's thoughts away from the pain of it all toward something else. I think the shouting helps in that refocus. "C'mon! You can do it! Don't give up! Watch your form!"
Many--maybe all--add psychology, pleading, cajoling, threats--anything that accomplishes the dual purpose of taking the runner's mind away from the pain and toward the goal.
Teachers can't do all of those things, but I wonder if the dual purpose (taking the mind away from pain and pointing the mind toward the goal) isn't the same.
Taking the mind off the pain can be done in a variety of ways: fun classroom activities, more frequent shifts in teaching strategies, breaking large goals (ie, semester end research paper or portfolio) into smaller chunks (portions of the research paper due at different times).
Moving the mind toward the goal is pretty straightforward, I think, except that the goal may not always be clear, or close enough to seem attainable. Make sure that the goal you're helping your students achieve is a clear, reachable one, and one that would actually be desirable for the individual student: graduation, advancement, proper entry into the workforce, avoidance of mother's wrath. Sometimes the goals need to be broken down into more achievable goals: make it through this week; just finish this assignment; write one more essay; put one foot in front of the other.
Despite the best coaching and teaching, some students will choose to quit. Some don't care about failing; some don't care about graduating; some can't be motivated to do anything. That's the reality.
It's also a reality that many of those kids--with a little more encouragement--WILL come around and do what they need to do. Don't despair that, despite your encouragement, some still fail. Just do your best to make it hard for them to give up.
At the same time, don't lower your standards. Make them come up to the level they need to be; don't drop to the level they would rather. I often pleaded with students to come in and just do a little more work. I called their homes and begged their parents to get them to do more. I went to their girlfriends and boyfriends and asked them to help. I tutored at lunch. I wrote emails. (Full disclosure: I didn't spend all my time doing all of these things for every single student. After writing the paragraph, I see that I might make myself look better than I was. I tried those tactics for students I believed were likely to pay me back for my time and effort by trying. Most of them responded.)
If in the final analysis, the student fails, make sure that you know that it was the student's choice, not yours.
This is a tough thing to write about because there's so much guilt and emotion tied up into it. There are intangibles, and things that we can't control. The best we can do is control what's in our power and allow our students to learn from their decisions.
By the way, I learned that a powerful motivator is hourly wage. Our students have little concept of annual income and benefits, but they understand hourly wage. I was talking to a student once who wanted to drop out of school for what looked to him like a great job. "How much does it pay?" I asked. "$10 an hour," he said proudly. "That's not bad for a high school dropout," I said. "How much do you think I make?" "$8 an hour," he said. He had heard so many teachers gripe about their pay he assumed it was really that bad. I told him my true hourly wage, and he was astounded. When he realized how few hours I had to work to earn the same amount he got in a day, he reconsidered dropping out.
Whatever works, coach.
Jeff Combe
I was talking to someone the other day about what to do with students that have given up.
It's the end of the semester--for seniors it's the end of high school. You all remember what it's like. The sports metaphors work best, maybe--the runner's hit the wall. The second wind hasn't come yet. The endorphins haven't kicked in. It's painful, and the end seems too far away and too difficult to attain.
What would a coach do to a runner in that situation?
Most of the coaches I know relentlessly shout encouragement at their runners. They try to refocus the runner's thoughts away from the pain of it all toward something else. I think the shouting helps in that refocus. "C'mon! You can do it! Don't give up! Watch your form!"
Many--maybe all--add psychology, pleading, cajoling, threats--anything that accomplishes the dual purpose of taking the runner's mind away from the pain and toward the goal.
Teachers can't do all of those things, but I wonder if the dual purpose (taking the mind away from pain and pointing the mind toward the goal) isn't the same.
Taking the mind off the pain can be done in a variety of ways: fun classroom activities, more frequent shifts in teaching strategies, breaking large goals (ie, semester end research paper or portfolio) into smaller chunks (portions of the research paper due at different times).
Moving the mind toward the goal is pretty straightforward, I think, except that the goal may not always be clear, or close enough to seem attainable. Make sure that the goal you're helping your students achieve is a clear, reachable one, and one that would actually be desirable for the individual student: graduation, advancement, proper entry into the workforce, avoidance of mother's wrath. Sometimes the goals need to be broken down into more achievable goals: make it through this week; just finish this assignment; write one more essay; put one foot in front of the other.
Despite the best coaching and teaching, some students will choose to quit. Some don't care about failing; some don't care about graduating; some can't be motivated to do anything. That's the reality.
It's also a reality that many of those kids--with a little more encouragement--WILL come around and do what they need to do. Don't despair that, despite your encouragement, some still fail. Just do your best to make it hard for them to give up.
At the same time, don't lower your standards. Make them come up to the level they need to be; don't drop to the level they would rather. I often pleaded with students to come in and just do a little more work. I called their homes and begged their parents to get them to do more. I went to their girlfriends and boyfriends and asked them to help. I tutored at lunch. I wrote emails. (Full disclosure: I didn't spend all my time doing all of these things for every single student. After writing the paragraph, I see that I might make myself look better than I was. I tried those tactics for students I believed were likely to pay me back for my time and effort by trying. Most of them responded.)
If in the final analysis, the student fails, make sure that you know that it was the student's choice, not yours.
This is a tough thing to write about because there's so much guilt and emotion tied up into it. There are intangibles, and things that we can't control. The best we can do is control what's in our power and allow our students to learn from their decisions.
By the way, I learned that a powerful motivator is hourly wage. Our students have little concept of annual income and benefits, but they understand hourly wage. I was talking to a student once who wanted to drop out of school for what looked to him like a great job. "How much does it pay?" I asked. "$10 an hour," he said proudly. "That's not bad for a high school dropout," I said. "How much do you think I make?" "$8 an hour," he said. He had heard so many teachers gripe about their pay he assumed it was really that bad. I told him my true hourly wage, and he was astounded. When he realized how few hours I had to work to earn the same amount he got in a day, he reconsidered dropping out.
Whatever works, coach.
Jeff Combe
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Working with different learning styles
Hello everyone,
I think we sometimes confuse our students' learning styles with their abilities to learn.
Let me give an extreme example.
A blind person can read and play music. Any blind person may be taught to read and play music. However, the sort of music reading that a blind person does is different from the sort a seeing person does. If I am unable to teach music literacy for the blind, then I might be tempted to say that a blind person cannot be taught to read music. If I were working with a blind person's playing skills, I would probably use auditory and kinesthetic techniques, but if I insisted on using visual techniques ("Just watch how I do it") I'll have to admit that I am unable to teach the blind person to play.
Still, Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, and George Shearing prove that it can be done.
Now, by the same token, if I take visual learners and insist on teaching them by requiring them to listen only to my lecture and take notes, I will not teach them very much.
As well, requiring an auditory learner to pick up something simply by reading it won't be very useful.
Ditto the other modalities.
I'm not saying that a visual learner can't learn to listen and take notes, and auditory and kinesthetic learners should never read.
I'm saying that we need to do two things: use a variety of strategies that accommodate different styles of learning, and consciously teach skills that colleges require (like listening to lectures, taking notes, and learning from reading).
Show pictures with your direct instruction; use manipulatives; combine movement with learning; use role play; teach how to take notes; teach how to listen and filter important facts; teach how to see details in films, pictures, and designs; and use every trick in every book you find that works.
The sightless can read; the deaf can move rhythmically; the non-ambulatory can compete in marathons. Everyone can learn--with adaptation and a little help.
Jeff Combe
I think we sometimes confuse our students' learning styles with their abilities to learn.
Let me give an extreme example.
A blind person can read and play music. Any blind person may be taught to read and play music. However, the sort of music reading that a blind person does is different from the sort a seeing person does. If I am unable to teach music literacy for the blind, then I might be tempted to say that a blind person cannot be taught to read music. If I were working with a blind person's playing skills, I would probably use auditory and kinesthetic techniques, but if I insisted on using visual techniques ("Just watch how I do it") I'll have to admit that I am unable to teach the blind person to play.
Still, Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, and George Shearing prove that it can be done.
Now, by the same token, if I take visual learners and insist on teaching them by requiring them to listen only to my lecture and take notes, I will not teach them very much.
As well, requiring an auditory learner to pick up something simply by reading it won't be very useful.
Ditto the other modalities.
I'm not saying that a visual learner can't learn to listen and take notes, and auditory and kinesthetic learners should never read.
I'm saying that we need to do two things: use a variety of strategies that accommodate different styles of learning, and consciously teach skills that colleges require (like listening to lectures, taking notes, and learning from reading).
Show pictures with your direct instruction; use manipulatives; combine movement with learning; use role play; teach how to take notes; teach how to listen and filter important facts; teach how to see details in films, pictures, and designs; and use every trick in every book you find that works.
The sightless can read; the deaf can move rhythmically; the non-ambulatory can compete in marathons. Everyone can learn--with adaptation and a little help.
Jeff Combe
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Positive reinforcement
Hello everyone,
I'm going to venture into an area that's unclear to me; I frankly follow my instincts a lot, and I can't be certain if my instincts are always correct.
I know that it is extremely important for us to give our students positive feedback. I'm just not sure how to set down a group of rules that would give certain guidelines on how or when to do it.
I can give a number of fixed principles about positive feedback:
1. It must be given.
2. It must be honest when it is given.
3. It must be meaningful.
4. It must be sincere; it cannot be used to manipulate; and it should not be used simply to soften the blow of negative feedback ("That was good but . . ." or "You are so good at this, why don't you do it for me?" or the thoughtlessly said, "Very good," for something that is obviously not good).
I understand that frequent positive feedback is important for some--maybe all--of our students, but I recognize that there is a danger in too frequent compliments. Compliments given too frequently become meaningless, and high school age students cannot expect that the world will always recognize their daily accomplishments. To say, "That was really good that you did your homework" may be essential for someone who never does it, but it can easily transform into, "You should learn to expect praise for doing your duty," which is not always desirable.
You're starting to see some of my problems.
I don't think I praised my students enough. I look back on my classroom practice, and I can see that I had students who were starved for affirmation, and I was pretty stingy with it. I have enough of the taciturn Yankee in me to want to fix what's wrong and not say anything about what's right. I consciously think that I'm wrong in that, but I'm not yet skilled enough to know when the right amount occurs.
My instincts are able to tell me when I've been too critical, but they usually don't tell me until I've been across the line for awhile, and I start to see the results of my criticism on the faces of those I've criticized.
My instincts also tell me when I'm pouring the praise on too thickly, but they tell me I'm doing it long before I'm at the saturation point with the people being praised.
I like to think that my praises are really meaningful when they're given because I don't pour them on, but I'm increasingly doubting my sense of proportion.
Give praise; give positive reinforcement; give it frequently. I'm not always successful at that.
Never give it insincerely, however. I know that that is a true principle. Never give it to manipulate. That's true.
So you are left to find ways to sincerely praise or compliment people. That may mean that you will have to break down the achievements of some of your students to component parts and praise them frequently enough that, when the correction needs to come, it comes in proportion.
Meanwhile, I'll keep working on it.
Jeff Combe
I'm going to venture into an area that's unclear to me; I frankly follow my instincts a lot, and I can't be certain if my instincts are always correct.
I know that it is extremely important for us to give our students positive feedback. I'm just not sure how to set down a group of rules that would give certain guidelines on how or when to do it.
I can give a number of fixed principles about positive feedback:
1. It must be given.
2. It must be honest when it is given.
3. It must be meaningful.
4. It must be sincere; it cannot be used to manipulate; and it should not be used simply to soften the blow of negative feedback ("That was good but . . ." or "You are so good at this, why don't you do it for me?" or the thoughtlessly said, "Very good," for something that is obviously not good).
I understand that frequent positive feedback is important for some--maybe all--of our students, but I recognize that there is a danger in too frequent compliments. Compliments given too frequently become meaningless, and high school age students cannot expect that the world will always recognize their daily accomplishments. To say, "That was really good that you did your homework" may be essential for someone who never does it, but it can easily transform into, "You should learn to expect praise for doing your duty," which is not always desirable.
You're starting to see some of my problems.
I don't think I praised my students enough. I look back on my classroom practice, and I can see that I had students who were starved for affirmation, and I was pretty stingy with it. I have enough of the taciturn Yankee in me to want to fix what's wrong and not say anything about what's right. I consciously think that I'm wrong in that, but I'm not yet skilled enough to know when the right amount occurs.
My instincts are able to tell me when I've been too critical, but they usually don't tell me until I've been across the line for awhile, and I start to see the results of my criticism on the faces of those I've criticized.
My instincts also tell me when I'm pouring the praise on too thickly, but they tell me I'm doing it long before I'm at the saturation point with the people being praised.
I like to think that my praises are really meaningful when they're given because I don't pour them on, but I'm increasingly doubting my sense of proportion.
Give praise; give positive reinforcement; give it frequently. I'm not always successful at that.
Never give it insincerely, however. I know that that is a true principle. Never give it to manipulate. That's true.
So you are left to find ways to sincerely praise or compliment people. That may mean that you will have to break down the achievements of some of your students to component parts and praise them frequently enough that, when the correction needs to come, it comes in proportion.
Meanwhile, I'll keep working on it.
Jeff Combe
Monday, April 28, 2008
A dream of eight intelligences
Hello everyone,
If you don't mind, I will wax philosophical about education.
In the ideal educational environment, students would begin early being trained in all of the eight modalities of intelligence: language, math, spatial, musical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and nature; and all modalities would be treated equally.
In an ideal school, everyone would be helped to high standards in all facets of their selves. Certainly, those with learning disabilities (in any of the eight intelligences) would receive additional intervention, and those with severe disabilities would be given alternative curricula, but everyone would be developed fully in all their intelligences.
By all means, allow those who excel to stand out. I don't see any problem with that. Let them be leaders and mentors (which will help to develop their interpersonal intelligence). But recognize excellence equally in the full spectrum of possible achievement.
Recognize as well that, just as everyone can learn to read and do math, everyone can learn music, design, sports, diplomacy, self-reflection, and how to grow a garden. We can all sing, play instruments, paint, dance, speak second languages, and be kind and gentle to people and animals. We can all learn technology, biology, physics, carpentry, and how to work together.
Those things must be treated equally from the beginning;.
The truth is, right now everything but the barest essentials of reading, writing, and arithmetic are almost all of what are valued in our school system.
I'm not sure what practical value this has in your classrooms right now. Probably none--especially in the face of budget cuts and our continued struggles to meet benchmarks in only two of the eight intelligences.
But I think that, maybe being aware of a powerful inter-relation among the intelligences may be helpful. Maybe our students will be so inspired by our teaching that some of them will grow up and make education what it really ought to be--the training and development of a complete human being, who is then able to continue that training and development independently.
It's a dream, I know. But it's mine, and I like it.
Jeff Combe
If you don't mind, I will wax philosophical about education.
In the ideal educational environment, students would begin early being trained in all of the eight modalities of intelligence: language, math, spatial, musical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and nature; and all modalities would be treated equally.
In an ideal school, everyone would be helped to high standards in all facets of their selves. Certainly, those with learning disabilities (in any of the eight intelligences) would receive additional intervention, and those with severe disabilities would be given alternative curricula, but everyone would be developed fully in all their intelligences.
By all means, allow those who excel to stand out. I don't see any problem with that. Let them be leaders and mentors (which will help to develop their interpersonal intelligence). But recognize excellence equally in the full spectrum of possible achievement.
Recognize as well that, just as everyone can learn to read and do math, everyone can learn music, design, sports, diplomacy, self-reflection, and how to grow a garden. We can all sing, play instruments, paint, dance, speak second languages, and be kind and gentle to people and animals. We can all learn technology, biology, physics, carpentry, and how to work together.
Those things must be treated equally from the beginning;.
The truth is, right now everything but the barest essentials of reading, writing, and arithmetic are almost all of what are valued in our school system.
I'm not sure what practical value this has in your classrooms right now. Probably none--especially in the face of budget cuts and our continued struggles to meet benchmarks in only two of the eight intelligences.
But I think that, maybe being aware of a powerful inter-relation among the intelligences may be helpful. Maybe our students will be so inspired by our teaching that some of them will grow up and make education what it really ought to be--the training and development of a complete human being, who is then able to continue that training and development independently.
It's a dream, I know. But it's mine, and I like it.
Jeff Combe
Working with kinesthetic learners
Hello everyone,
I think one of the biggest problems we have in managing academic classes is trying to figure out how to handle the kinesthetic learners.
These are the kids that have to touch everything; they are not necessarily hyperactive, but they think better on their feet, moving around, than they do sitting. They almost require movement or tactile contact in order to learn.
Some of them may also be above average in kinesthetic intelligence, or they may feel more comfortable in situations requiring movement rather than the traditional sitting still that academic teachers seem to prefer.
For PE teachers, dance teachers, and coaches, they're terrific. For math and English they can be difficult. (Science and history often require students to get up and do things, which are great ways of allowing kinesthetic learners to participate in their comfort zone.)
What do teachers do with the kinesthetics?
First, value their skills. The almost stereotypical battle between the English teacher and the athlete isn't good for either one. There's no reason why an academic teacher can't learn to appreciate a student's talents for athletics, dance, cheer, or other movement.
Second, look for excuses to have the entire class moving around occasionally. For many students, combining movement with cognition is essential. For the rest, the powerful associations that come from movement combined with learning are useful.
Some teachers use games to great effect; one teacher I knew combined sports activities with concept learning (it doesn't work with skill learning that I can think of); role playing is exceptionally effective in a wide variety of subjects; staged readings of almost anything.
There are classroom management tasks that kinesthetic learners are delighted to do. Let them write on the board for you, pass out papers, direct the clean up, set up labs.Suggestions and tricks aside, the point is that kinesthetic learning and kinesthetic intelligence ought to be valued, even outside the activities that demand them.
Jeff Combe
I think one of the biggest problems we have in managing academic classes is trying to figure out how to handle the kinesthetic learners.
These are the kids that have to touch everything; they are not necessarily hyperactive, but they think better on their feet, moving around, than they do sitting. They almost require movement or tactile contact in order to learn.
Some of them may also be above average in kinesthetic intelligence, or they may feel more comfortable in situations requiring movement rather than the traditional sitting still that academic teachers seem to prefer.
For PE teachers, dance teachers, and coaches, they're terrific. For math and English they can be difficult. (Science and history often require students to get up and do things, which are great ways of allowing kinesthetic learners to participate in their comfort zone.)
What do teachers do with the kinesthetics?
First, value their skills. The almost stereotypical battle between the English teacher and the athlete isn't good for either one. There's no reason why an academic teacher can't learn to appreciate a student's talents for athletics, dance, cheer, or other movement.
Second, look for excuses to have the entire class moving around occasionally. For many students, combining movement with cognition is essential. For the rest, the powerful associations that come from movement combined with learning are useful.
Some teachers use games to great effect; one teacher I knew combined sports activities with concept learning (it doesn't work with skill learning that I can think of); role playing is exceptionally effective in a wide variety of subjects; staged readings of almost anything.
There are classroom management tasks that kinesthetic learners are delighted to do. Let them write on the board for you, pass out papers, direct the clean up, set up labs.Suggestions and tricks aside, the point is that kinesthetic learning and kinesthetic intelligence ought to be valued, even outside the activities that demand them.
Jeff Combe
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Assessing understanding
Hello everyone,
The six facets of understanding are explanation, interpretation, application, perspective, empathy, and self-knowledge.
If a student truly understands a concept, the student should be able to explain it, interpret it, and apply it, as well as put it into perspective with other things the student knows. To understand another human being is to have empathy; to understand oneself is to have self-knowledge.
Each of these eight facets is independent of the others, and not all function equally in all situations.
It is up to the teacher to decide which facet of understanding is important for the concept being taught, then how to assess that understanding. Once the teacher has made those decisions, it's relatively easy to plan backward to the current starting point and work toward that understanding.
Keep in mind that, without one of these six facets, we are alleging that there is no real understanding. If a student can't explain, interpret, apply, or see perspective, then the student doesn't really understand the concept. If there is no empathy, there is no human understanding. If self-knowledge is inaccurate, there is little or no self-understanding.
If the demonstrations of the facets are superficial or unsophisticated, then there is limited or no understanding.
I mean, for example, that if a student undertakes to explain something, but the explanation is wrong, inadequate, or simplistic, then the student probably has not understood that thing.
Of course, there is always the problem of communication interfering with an assessment of understanding. If a student could give a good spoken explanation of American democracy, but could not coherently put that in writing, then my assessment will be faulty. It is sometimes necessary to try multiple modalities in assessment to avoid this. All students may have to give oral presentations and write essays so that a failure in communication is not perceived as a failure in understanding.
By the same token, much of what we want our students to understand is HOW to communicate their understanding to others. Students show an understanding of expository writing by applying that understanding to coherent expository essays, for example. Or students may show self understanding, empathy, and interpretation by writing poems. Perspective may be shown in public debates as well as persuasive essays, which would require the teacher to teach certain skills. Lab skills will be used to show application, and the ability to apply lab skills shows understanding of the skills.
There is an interlocking sort of understanding that we work with--concepts and skills reinforcing each other--and we may test one or more facets of understanding when we are simultaneously testing for understanding of concepts and skills.
Whatever we're testing for, whatever end we want, we must begin at the end and plan backwards, all the time knowing what understanding looks like, and always working toward it.
Jeff Combe
The six facets of understanding are explanation, interpretation, application, perspective, empathy, and self-knowledge.
If a student truly understands a concept, the student should be able to explain it, interpret it, and apply it, as well as put it into perspective with other things the student knows. To understand another human being is to have empathy; to understand oneself is to have self-knowledge.
Each of these eight facets is independent of the others, and not all function equally in all situations.
It is up to the teacher to decide which facet of understanding is important for the concept being taught, then how to assess that understanding. Once the teacher has made those decisions, it's relatively easy to plan backward to the current starting point and work toward that understanding.
Keep in mind that, without one of these six facets, we are alleging that there is no real understanding. If a student can't explain, interpret, apply, or see perspective, then the student doesn't really understand the concept. If there is no empathy, there is no human understanding. If self-knowledge is inaccurate, there is little or no self-understanding.
If the demonstrations of the facets are superficial or unsophisticated, then there is limited or no understanding.
I mean, for example, that if a student undertakes to explain something, but the explanation is wrong, inadequate, or simplistic, then the student probably has not understood that thing.
Of course, there is always the problem of communication interfering with an assessment of understanding. If a student could give a good spoken explanation of American democracy, but could not coherently put that in writing, then my assessment will be faulty. It is sometimes necessary to try multiple modalities in assessment to avoid this. All students may have to give oral presentations and write essays so that a failure in communication is not perceived as a failure in understanding.
By the same token, much of what we want our students to understand is HOW to communicate their understanding to others. Students show an understanding of expository writing by applying that understanding to coherent expository essays, for example. Or students may show self understanding, empathy, and interpretation by writing poems. Perspective may be shown in public debates as well as persuasive essays, which would require the teacher to teach certain skills. Lab skills will be used to show application, and the ability to apply lab skills shows understanding of the skills.
There is an interlocking sort of understanding that we work with--concepts and skills reinforcing each other--and we may test one or more facets of understanding when we are simultaneously testing for understanding of concepts and skills.
Whatever we're testing for, whatever end we want, we must begin at the end and plan backwards, all the time knowing what understanding looks like, and always working toward it.
Jeff Combe
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
End of the year practicalities
Hello everyone,
I received an email from a teacher that I thought was worth sharing and commenting on:
"What's your advice on getting through the last 8 weeks in the semester. At this point, I'm feeling SO tired and the students also seem to share my feelings. They seem more antsy and impatient lately, and I'm losing my patience as well. Is it just me or is this what usually happens at this time of the school year?"
I remember a lot from my elementary school days, and what I remember the most from the ends of the years is that it was fun. May and June, for me, were filled with lots of fun activities. I remember very little learning.
By high school, this had changed somewhat, but the feeling and the expectation of fun at the end of the year remained with me. My high school teachers planned culminating activities that engaged me, then hung the threat of not graduating over my head for my senior year.
It's hard to say for sure if my expectations for year end were created by my elementary teachers, or if my elementary teachers simply bowed to reality and planned lots of field trips and fun projects for the end of the year because they knew we wouldn't be up for much else.
I currently think--after more than two decades in the classroom--that my teachers bowed to reality, and the reality is that, late in the year, everyone is tired. All of us but C-track are just entering the long home stretch before the end of the year; the next holiday is more than a month away; our students have firmly adopted whatever habits you've taught them. Things are so firmly established in your classrooms by this time of the year that there is little likelihood of your changing them anything in any extraordinary way.
What you can do is synthesize what you've learned all year. This is a great time to work on those higher level Bloom's skills: application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. You will give them little new knowledge; you can't do more than adjust their comprehension skills. You can, however, assign culminating activities that require them to use the knowledge they've gained.
I consciously tried to plan all my favorite works of literature, or my most engaging literature, at the end of the year. There was more comedy, more adventure, more romance. Much fewer deep, dark thoughts; more entertaining thoughts. I did not introduce any new and difficult concepts. (I introduced new and easy concepts, however.)
I programmed games for review, field trips, student-guided instruction, and final projects.
I did not take time off or give them "kick back days"; I did, however, try to find ways that required them to apply what they had learned, to synthesize it, and to evaluate it.
One activity I found worked really well for my AP students was to give them the opportunity to plan the final six weeks themselves. I required them to work at AP level in a related subject field and conclude with a project that was the equivalent in difficulty to a 10-page research paper. They chose the theme of the closing months; I approved the final projects; and we studied what they wanted to study. It was fun.
It wasn't as fun as the final weeks of the second grade, but it kept me fresh, and either my students took my lead or it kept them fresh, too.
There's no reason why a sprint to the end has to be punishing.
Jeff Combe
I received an email from a teacher that I thought was worth sharing and commenting on:
"What's your advice on getting through the last 8 weeks in the semester. At this point, I'm feeling SO tired and the students also seem to share my feelings. They seem more antsy and impatient lately, and I'm losing my patience as well. Is it just me or is this what usually happens at this time of the school year?"
I remember a lot from my elementary school days, and what I remember the most from the ends of the years is that it was fun. May and June, for me, were filled with lots of fun activities. I remember very little learning.
By high school, this had changed somewhat, but the feeling and the expectation of fun at the end of the year remained with me. My high school teachers planned culminating activities that engaged me, then hung the threat of not graduating over my head for my senior year.
It's hard to say for sure if my expectations for year end were created by my elementary teachers, or if my elementary teachers simply bowed to reality and planned lots of field trips and fun projects for the end of the year because they knew we wouldn't be up for much else.
I currently think--after more than two decades in the classroom--that my teachers bowed to reality, and the reality is that, late in the year, everyone is tired. All of us but C-track are just entering the long home stretch before the end of the year; the next holiday is more than a month away; our students have firmly adopted whatever habits you've taught them. Things are so firmly established in your classrooms by this time of the year that there is little likelihood of your changing them anything in any extraordinary way.
What you can do is synthesize what you've learned all year. This is a great time to work on those higher level Bloom's skills: application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. You will give them little new knowledge; you can't do more than adjust their comprehension skills. You can, however, assign culminating activities that require them to use the knowledge they've gained.
I consciously tried to plan all my favorite works of literature, or my most engaging literature, at the end of the year. There was more comedy, more adventure, more romance. Much fewer deep, dark thoughts; more entertaining thoughts. I did not introduce any new and difficult concepts. (I introduced new and easy concepts, however.)
I programmed games for review, field trips, student-guided instruction, and final projects.
I did not take time off or give them "kick back days"; I did, however, try to find ways that required them to apply what they had learned, to synthesize it, and to evaluate it.
One activity I found worked really well for my AP students was to give them the opportunity to plan the final six weeks themselves. I required them to work at AP level in a related subject field and conclude with a project that was the equivalent in difficulty to a 10-page research paper. They chose the theme of the closing months; I approved the final projects; and we studied what they wanted to study. It was fun.
It wasn't as fun as the final weeks of the second grade, but it kept me fresh, and either my students took my lead or it kept them fresh, too.
There's no reason why a sprint to the end has to be punishing.
Jeff Combe
Monday, April 21, 2008
More on preparing them for college
Hello everyone,
I will get back to the subjects from last week that I had intended exploring (intelligence and understanding), but I received a comment on one of the emails posted on my blog that I would like to comment on.
My thoughts are in CAPS.
Here is the posting:
I like your points of view, but is everyone fit to be college material?
IT ALL DEPENDS ON HOW YOU WANT TO DEFINE "COLLEGE." FOR THE SAKE OF MY STUDENTS, I CHOOSE TO DEFINE IT AS "POST-SECONDARY EDUCATION." IN THE BROADEST SENSE, THIS COULD INCLUDE MILITARY TRAINING, THOUGH I TEND TO CLASSIFY MILITARY TRAINING AS A SEPARATE THING.
I INCLUDE VOCATIONAL SCHOOLS THAT ARE POST-SECONDARY AS WELL AS APPRENTICESHIPS IN MY PERSONAL DEFINITION OF "COLLEGE."
THE REALITY OF THE AMERICAN MARKETPLACE IS THAT IT IS VERY RARE FOR ANYONE WITH ONLY A HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION TO MAKE ENOUGH MONEY TO SUPPORT THEMSELVES, LET ALONE A FAMILY. IN THE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA MARKET, WHERE FURNISHED ROOMS REGULARLY RENT FOR MORE THAN $500 A MONTH AND TRANSPORTATION IS PROHIBITIVE, MINIMUM WAGE OR COMMISSION-ONLY JOBS ARE SUFFICIENT ONLY FOR THE MOST FRUGAL AMONG US.
SOME POST-SECONDARY TRAINING IS NECESSARY.
FOR THOSE AMONG US SO DISABLED AS TO BE INCAPABLE OF POST-SECONDARY TRAINING, I THINK IT IS APPROPRIATE FOR SOCIETY TO PROVIDE SUPPORT.
THE SIMPLE ANSWER TO THE QUESTIONS IS, "NO, EVERYONE IS NOT COLLEGE MATERIAL," BUT THERE ARE SO MANY QUALIFICATIONS TO THAT ANSWER THAT I HAVE TO GIVE THE LONGER AND MORE COMPLEX ANSWER I'VE GIVEN.
How about training someone, giving them a skill, a career?
IT USED TO BE POSSIBLE FOR HIGH SCHOOLS TO GIVE SUFFICIENT TRAINING IN A VARIETY OF SKILLS FOR STUDENTS TO MAKE A LIVING FRESH OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL. I HAVE KNOWN STUDENTS FROM GARFIELD'S COMPUTER MAGNET TO EARN GOOD MONEY RIGHT OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL USING THEIR PROGRAMMING SKILLS, BUT THAT WAS MORE THAN 15 YEARS AGO. I HAVE ALSO TRAINED STUDENTS AS FILM EDITORS WHO GOT WORK RIGHT OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL, BUT THAT WAS PRE-DIGITAL. AUTO MECHANICS NEED SPECIALIZED COMPUTER TRAINING. CARPENTERS MUST BE TRAINED BY THEIR UNIONS, MAKING WOODSHOP A PREPARATORY SKILL, NOT CAREER-LEVEL.
How about technical education. It is another opportunity to succeed. What is your opinion about career tech?
I CONSIDER IT COLLEGE.
TECHNICAL EDUCATION IS NECESSARY FOR THE SORTS OF CAREERS IT SUPPORTS. FEW HIGH SCHOOLS ARE EQUIPPED TO PROVIDE THE NECESSARY TRAINING, SO MOST OF IT IS DONE AFTER HIGH SCHOOL.
HAVING SAID ALL OF THIS, I MUST ADD THAT I DON'T BELIEVE THAT HIGH SCHOOLS MUST CONTINUE TO BE ONLY INTRODUCTIONS TO THE SORTS OF TRAINING THAT LEAD TO A REAL CAREER. I THINK THAT IT IS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE TO RESTRUCTURE EDUCATION IN A WAY THAT ALLOWS FOR SOMEONE TO PURSUE A CAREER PATH IN HIGH SCHOOL. I DON'T THINK THERE IS CURRENTLY THE POLITICAL OR SOCIETAL WILL TO DO SUCH A THING, HOWEVER, SO WE CONTINUE WITH THE CURRENT MODEL OF PREPARING STUDENTS BROADLY FOR POST-SECONDARY EDUCATION THAT TRAINS THEM MORE SPECIFICALLY FOR THEIR CAREERS.
JEFF COMBE
I will get back to the subjects from last week that I had intended exploring (intelligence and understanding), but I received a comment on one of the emails posted on my blog that I would like to comment on.
My thoughts are in CAPS.
Here is the posting:
I like your points of view, but is everyone fit to be college material?
IT ALL DEPENDS ON HOW YOU WANT TO DEFINE "COLLEGE." FOR THE SAKE OF MY STUDENTS, I CHOOSE TO DEFINE IT AS "POST-SECONDARY EDUCATION." IN THE BROADEST SENSE, THIS COULD INCLUDE MILITARY TRAINING, THOUGH I TEND TO CLASSIFY MILITARY TRAINING AS A SEPARATE THING.
I INCLUDE VOCATIONAL SCHOOLS THAT ARE POST-SECONDARY AS WELL AS APPRENTICESHIPS IN MY PERSONAL DEFINITION OF "COLLEGE."
THE REALITY OF THE AMERICAN MARKETPLACE IS THAT IT IS VERY RARE FOR ANYONE WITH ONLY A HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION TO MAKE ENOUGH MONEY TO SUPPORT THEMSELVES, LET ALONE A FAMILY. IN THE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA MARKET, WHERE FURNISHED ROOMS REGULARLY RENT FOR MORE THAN $500 A MONTH AND TRANSPORTATION IS PROHIBITIVE, MINIMUM WAGE OR COMMISSION-ONLY JOBS ARE SUFFICIENT ONLY FOR THE MOST FRUGAL AMONG US.
SOME POST-SECONDARY TRAINING IS NECESSARY.
FOR THOSE AMONG US SO DISABLED AS TO BE INCAPABLE OF POST-SECONDARY TRAINING, I THINK IT IS APPROPRIATE FOR SOCIETY TO PROVIDE SUPPORT.
THE SIMPLE ANSWER TO THE QUESTIONS IS, "NO, EVERYONE IS NOT COLLEGE MATERIAL," BUT THERE ARE SO MANY QUALIFICATIONS TO THAT ANSWER THAT I HAVE TO GIVE THE LONGER AND MORE COMPLEX ANSWER I'VE GIVEN.
How about training someone, giving them a skill, a career?
IT USED TO BE POSSIBLE FOR HIGH SCHOOLS TO GIVE SUFFICIENT TRAINING IN A VARIETY OF SKILLS FOR STUDENTS TO MAKE A LIVING FRESH OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL. I HAVE KNOWN STUDENTS FROM GARFIELD'S COMPUTER MAGNET TO EARN GOOD MONEY RIGHT OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL USING THEIR PROGRAMMING SKILLS, BUT THAT WAS MORE THAN 15 YEARS AGO. I HAVE ALSO TRAINED STUDENTS AS FILM EDITORS WHO GOT WORK RIGHT OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL, BUT THAT WAS PRE-DIGITAL. AUTO MECHANICS NEED SPECIALIZED COMPUTER TRAINING. CARPENTERS MUST BE TRAINED BY THEIR UNIONS, MAKING WOODSHOP A PREPARATORY SKILL, NOT CAREER-LEVEL.
How about technical education. It is another opportunity to succeed. What is your opinion about career tech?
I CONSIDER IT COLLEGE.
TECHNICAL EDUCATION IS NECESSARY FOR THE SORTS OF CAREERS IT SUPPORTS. FEW HIGH SCHOOLS ARE EQUIPPED TO PROVIDE THE NECESSARY TRAINING, SO MOST OF IT IS DONE AFTER HIGH SCHOOL.
HAVING SAID ALL OF THIS, I MUST ADD THAT I DON'T BELIEVE THAT HIGH SCHOOLS MUST CONTINUE TO BE ONLY INTRODUCTIONS TO THE SORTS OF TRAINING THAT LEAD TO A REAL CAREER. I THINK THAT IT IS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE TO RESTRUCTURE EDUCATION IN A WAY THAT ALLOWS FOR SOMEONE TO PURSUE A CAREER PATH IN HIGH SCHOOL. I DON'T THINK THERE IS CURRENTLY THE POLITICAL OR SOCIETAL WILL TO DO SUCH A THING, HOWEVER, SO WE CONTINUE WITH THE CURRENT MODEL OF PREPARING STUDENTS BROADLY FOR POST-SECONDARY EDUCATION THAT TRAINS THEM MORE SPECIFICALLY FOR THEIR CAREERS.
JEFF COMBE
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Some thoughts on intelligence
Hello everyone,
I had a discussion with a young teenager last week. "I'm Special Fred," she said to me. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I'm in special ed. classes. I'm not smart. You know--Special Ed: Special Fred. It's just a nickname."
"What are you in special ed. for?" I asked her.
"My reading," she said.
"How's your math?" I asked.
She was a year ahead of her gen. ed. peers, but was struggling. (At one year ahead!) Her struggles confirmed in her mind that she wasn't bright, even though she was advanced.
We had a rather lengthy discussion on the difference between intelligence and processing (my explanation of a learning disability--no problem with the cognition; some problem with processing). I don't know if I satisfied her, but I think she enjoyed the intellectual exercise.
I have had this conversation before with special ed. students. In a special day class once, when I was team teaching, the students brought up the inevitable conversation about being in special ed. which, they believed, made them unintelligent.
Actually, the same thing happens in band classes with the poor student who just can't hear that his instrument is out of tune, or in a PE class when the math whiz can't hit a basket, or in dance class when one girl can't put one foot in front of the other, or in social situations when someone always manages to say the wrong thing, or when a cheerleader has anorexia because she's sure she's ugly, or when a gardener can't keep anything but weeds alive.
The difference is that in school we tend to value only two eighths of the identified kinds of intelligence, and we take failures in other intelligences as a matter of course. Students, therefore, who do worse than average in math or language feel stupid, while others can simply avoid the subjects they're poor in.
It was when I was first entering teaching in the early 1980s that Howard Gardner at Harvard identified eight different kinds of human intelligence. I list them below:
Linguistic intelligence ("word smart"):
Logical-mathematical intelligence ("number/reasoning smart")
Spatial intelligence ("picture smart")
Bodily-Kinesthetic intelligence ("body smart")
Musical intelligence ("music smart")
Interpersonal intelligence ("people smart")
Intrapersonal intelligence ("self smart")
Naturalist intelligence ("nature smart")
(from http://www.thomasarmstrong.com/multiple_intelligences.htm)
Understanding the eight intelligences, appreciating their differences, adapting to student variations, and accepting that everyone can be taught in every intelligence, help us as we work with our students. In special ed., sometimes it's just helpful for the kids to know that each of their eight intelligences is equally important, and their difficulty with words or numbers isn't a sign that they lack overall intelligence. In general ed. classes, we sometimes have to understand that the hyperactive child might have high kinesthetic intelligence, and that might be tapped for a variation in learning styles. Or we may acknowledge that it may be a disaster if we ignore interpersonal intelligence when setting up groups in class. (The child with the highest grade doesn't always have the highest interpersonal intelligence. The child with the lowest grade might.)
Different intelligences, along with different communication styles (which we covered in the New Teachers' Seminar), affect the different facets of understanding, and I'll talk about that on Friday.
Jeff Combe
I had a discussion with a young teenager last week. "I'm Special Fred," she said to me. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I'm in special ed. classes. I'm not smart. You know--Special Ed: Special Fred. It's just a nickname."
"What are you in special ed. for?" I asked her.
"My reading," she said.
"How's your math?" I asked.
She was a year ahead of her gen. ed. peers, but was struggling. (At one year ahead!) Her struggles confirmed in her mind that she wasn't bright, even though she was advanced.
We had a rather lengthy discussion on the difference between intelligence and processing (my explanation of a learning disability--no problem with the cognition; some problem with processing). I don't know if I satisfied her, but I think she enjoyed the intellectual exercise.
I have had this conversation before with special ed. students. In a special day class once, when I was team teaching, the students brought up the inevitable conversation about being in special ed. which, they believed, made them unintelligent.
Actually, the same thing happens in band classes with the poor student who just can't hear that his instrument is out of tune, or in a PE class when the math whiz can't hit a basket, or in dance class when one girl can't put one foot in front of the other, or in social situations when someone always manages to say the wrong thing, or when a cheerleader has anorexia because she's sure she's ugly, or when a gardener can't keep anything but weeds alive.
The difference is that in school we tend to value only two eighths of the identified kinds of intelligence, and we take failures in other intelligences as a matter of course. Students, therefore, who do worse than average in math or language feel stupid, while others can simply avoid the subjects they're poor in.
It was when I was first entering teaching in the early 1980s that Howard Gardner at Harvard identified eight different kinds of human intelligence. I list them below:
Linguistic intelligence ("word smart"):
Logical-mathematical intelligence ("number/reasoning smart")
Spatial intelligence ("picture smart")
Bodily-Kinesthetic intelligence ("body smart")
Musical intelligence ("music smart")
Interpersonal intelligence ("people smart")
Intrapersonal intelligence ("self smart")
Naturalist intelligence ("nature smart")
(from http://www.thomasarmstrong.com/multiple_intelligences.htm)
Understanding the eight intelligences, appreciating their differences, adapting to student variations, and accepting that everyone can be taught in every intelligence, help us as we work with our students. In special ed., sometimes it's just helpful for the kids to know that each of their eight intelligences is equally important, and their difficulty with words or numbers isn't a sign that they lack overall intelligence. In general ed. classes, we sometimes have to understand that the hyperactive child might have high kinesthetic intelligence, and that might be tapped for a variation in learning styles. Or we may acknowledge that it may be a disaster if we ignore interpersonal intelligence when setting up groups in class. (The child with the highest grade doesn't always have the highest interpersonal intelligence. The child with the lowest grade might.)
Different intelligences, along with different communication styles (which we covered in the New Teachers' Seminar), affect the different facets of understanding, and I'll talk about that on Friday.
Jeff Combe
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
PowerPoint: Use it well
Hello everyone,
PowerPoint is a wonderful program. I have used it in a variety of situations, and I have been in a variety of situations in which it has been used.
At its best, it is very entertaining. It keeps the information flowing. It gives access to a variety of visual and audio resources. It can be colorful and playful as well as factual. It can reinforce learning like no white board ever thought possible.
At its worst, it is deadly dull and factually incorrect.
In other words, it is a tool, no better and no worse than the worker who is using it.
Please please please (let me add another please if it will help) use it well.
The use of PowerPoint has little or nothing to do with age or experience. I have seen good and bad PowerPoint presentations at every level. I cannot tell you how many training sessions I have sat in (in a variety of situations in and out of school), taught by supposed experts, who gave awful presentations with poorly thought out PowerPoint presentations. I have likewise seen new teachers who were very good at it. And vice versa.
May I give a list of things that bug me when I see PowerPoint presentations? These are things that, I believe, make for terrible PowerPoint. My hope is that, if you know that they bug people, you will avoid them yourselves.
1. The font is unreadable.
This may be because the font is too small to be read throughout the room. It may be because of poor contrast (blue background, red letters, for example). It may be because the font is too ornate to be seen clearly. Perhaps the background has patterns that are too busy (a herringbone design, for example) to allow the letters to be read. Maybe there is too much to read.
Keep your written material short and readable. If you have to use many slides to get the information up, then so be it. One slide with hundreds of unreadable words makes me want to drop out of school--and I have a doctorate. Hundreds of slides with a few words and lots of pictures can make me happy. Happier, anyway.
2. The information is incorrect or incorrectly presented.
Check your facts. There is a power to electronic presentation that makes factually incorrect presentations as insidious as viruses. Your students will always believe them, and they will always be wrong, because you were wrong. (At least in live presentation, you can claim a momentary lapse or a human mistake. When you take the time to put your mistakes into a PowerPoint presentation, you're just fertilizing weeds.)
Make sure your spelling and grammar are correct. I trained my English students to disregard all electronic presentations with misspellings. It indicates poor editing, which indicates possible errors in fact. If you have trouble with spelling or grammar, get a friend to help you.
3. The teacher treats a PowerPoint presentation the way a lecturer treats notes.
The PowerPoint presentation should enhance your classroom presentation, not BE your classroom presentation. Why should I go to a live teacher in a live class and listen to the lecturer drone on reading directly off the screen, when I can just read the PowerPoint off the internet or a printout and get exactly the same information? You are in front of your class because you have the power to respond to your audience and guide them.
Don't feel bound to the presentation as stored in your computer. Feel free to skip slides if necessary. Use the white board to clarify the slide if the slide needs it. Interact with your students. Let them do the reading at least.
4. There are no pictures.
I want pictures. I love video. Sound is beautiful. I once saw a math PowerPoint that used cartoon sounds and animation to emphasize steps in a math problem and it made me happy just to watch it. I've seen lovely short videos that emphasized important points. If you're teaching a concrete vocabulary word, you ought to have a picture of the object the word stands for. If you're teaching an abstract vocabulary word, and you can find a picture that helps to explain the word, you ought to use it.
Of course, all of these things can be done without PowerPoint. The program just makes them very easy to keep track of, combine, and use. It's a tool, and it works well that way.
Even clip art is good if it relates to the concept.
5. Teachers leave a slide up when they have moved on to another subject.
I confess, I never erased my black or white boards until I wanted to put something new on them. This is the same concept, except the projection is more powerful than the chalk line. Feel free to put blank slides in your presentation so you can discuss a concept without distraction.
Feel free to have PowerPoint reveal concepts in sequence. Don't put everything up at once if it doesn't have to be there. This is the equivalent of using a piece of paper to cover a part of an overhead projection so that it can be revealed gradually.
If you use it, use it well.
Jeff Combe
PowerPoint is a wonderful program. I have used it in a variety of situations, and I have been in a variety of situations in which it has been used.
At its best, it is very entertaining. It keeps the information flowing. It gives access to a variety of visual and audio resources. It can be colorful and playful as well as factual. It can reinforce learning like no white board ever thought possible.
At its worst, it is deadly dull and factually incorrect.
In other words, it is a tool, no better and no worse than the worker who is using it.
Please please please (let me add another please if it will help) use it well.
The use of PowerPoint has little or nothing to do with age or experience. I have seen good and bad PowerPoint presentations at every level. I cannot tell you how many training sessions I have sat in (in a variety of situations in and out of school), taught by supposed experts, who gave awful presentations with poorly thought out PowerPoint presentations. I have likewise seen new teachers who were very good at it. And vice versa.
May I give a list of things that bug me when I see PowerPoint presentations? These are things that, I believe, make for terrible PowerPoint. My hope is that, if you know that they bug people, you will avoid them yourselves.
1. The font is unreadable.
This may be because the font is too small to be read throughout the room. It may be because of poor contrast (blue background, red letters, for example). It may be because the font is too ornate to be seen clearly. Perhaps the background has patterns that are too busy (a herringbone design, for example) to allow the letters to be read. Maybe there is too much to read.
Keep your written material short and readable. If you have to use many slides to get the information up, then so be it. One slide with hundreds of unreadable words makes me want to drop out of school--and I have a doctorate. Hundreds of slides with a few words and lots of pictures can make me happy. Happier, anyway.
2. The information is incorrect or incorrectly presented.
Check your facts. There is a power to electronic presentation that makes factually incorrect presentations as insidious as viruses. Your students will always believe them, and they will always be wrong, because you were wrong. (At least in live presentation, you can claim a momentary lapse or a human mistake. When you take the time to put your mistakes into a PowerPoint presentation, you're just fertilizing weeds.)
Make sure your spelling and grammar are correct. I trained my English students to disregard all electronic presentations with misspellings. It indicates poor editing, which indicates possible errors in fact. If you have trouble with spelling or grammar, get a friend to help you.
3. The teacher treats a PowerPoint presentation the way a lecturer treats notes.
The PowerPoint presentation should enhance your classroom presentation, not BE your classroom presentation. Why should I go to a live teacher in a live class and listen to the lecturer drone on reading directly off the screen, when I can just read the PowerPoint off the internet or a printout and get exactly the same information? You are in front of your class because you have the power to respond to your audience and guide them.
Don't feel bound to the presentation as stored in your computer. Feel free to skip slides if necessary. Use the white board to clarify the slide if the slide needs it. Interact with your students. Let them do the reading at least.
4. There are no pictures.
I want pictures. I love video. Sound is beautiful. I once saw a math PowerPoint that used cartoon sounds and animation to emphasize steps in a math problem and it made me happy just to watch it. I've seen lovely short videos that emphasized important points. If you're teaching a concrete vocabulary word, you ought to have a picture of the object the word stands for. If you're teaching an abstract vocabulary word, and you can find a picture that helps to explain the word, you ought to use it.
Of course, all of these things can be done without PowerPoint. The program just makes them very easy to keep track of, combine, and use. It's a tool, and it works well that way.
Even clip art is good if it relates to the concept.
5. Teachers leave a slide up when they have moved on to another subject.
I confess, I never erased my black or white boards until I wanted to put something new on them. This is the same concept, except the projection is more powerful than the chalk line. Feel free to put blank slides in your presentation so you can discuss a concept without distraction.
Feel free to have PowerPoint reveal concepts in sequence. Don't put everything up at once if it doesn't have to be there. This is the equivalent of using a piece of paper to cover a part of an overhead projection so that it can be revealed gradually.
If you use it, use it well.
Jeff Combe
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