What I have learned this semester that might not necessarily be overtly graded

Here is a top ten list of a few of the lessons I have learned over the past semester at Whitley County High School.

1. A teacher’s effectiveness is proportional to the planning that goes into each lesson.

2.Planning itself isn’t enough. The planning must be intelligent, reflective, and undertaken in light of what is known about the individuals within a class and the class as a whole.

3. Time management is essential. Teaching is a commitment that requires saying no to other potential commitments.

4. Growing as a teacher requires constant learning.

5. Growth in terms of methodology must be accompanied by growth in terms of content knowledge and understanding; otherwise, methods are hollow.

6. Student A may not learn at the same pace or in the same way as Student B. A student is an individual and must be treated as one.

7. The best students have learned to teach themselves.

8. The way a student performs and behaves in class needs to be understood within the context of the rest of student’s life.

9. Sleep deficits haunt.

10. Peanut butter and jelly isn’t as appetizing in December as it is in August.

Blogs for the week of November 9.

Clearly, it’s very nearly a month past November 9th. I am hoping, however, that late is better than never. Here is what Dr. G asked us to blog about this week:
This week in your blog I would like for you to find out what community resources exist in your school/community that are available to help you teach. Report in your journal (one day) what you did to find out this information, who you asked, what you learned. A second day (yep, only two days this week!) post a list of the resources that you found.

In preparation for my unit, I talked with my ST, Mrs. Manning, about community resources, and specifically about people who might be able to come in as guest speakers. She encouraged me to set up a meeting with WCHS’ assistant principal, Mrs. Rice, the former chair of the English Department at the school.
A few days later I was able to sit down with Mrs. Rice. After discussing resources and my unit, she agreed to speak on the first day of my unit on the importance of language. Other resources include libraries in the area – the high school library, community library, and University of the Cumberlands library. In addition, I have a tight-knit relationship with the English Dept. at UC and have used them at different points throughout the semester as a resource for deepening my understanding of writing, literature, and grammar. Several of the professors would be willing to be guest speakers and have offered to assist when possible.

It's been upwards of forever.....

since I have written in my blog.

The last few weeks have felt like a single day punctuated by occasional naps. The combination of teaching all of my supervising teacher's classes, planning my unit (and navigating the murky waters of Kentucky Teacher Internship Program forms and documents), being actively involved in a handful of ministries at my church, planning for my leadership project, tutoring a student for my collaboration project, and holding down a part time job (so I can eat) have proved to be the perfect storm that has doomed my blog these last few weeks.

My approach to this blog from the beginning was for it to be primarily for sifting through my experiences and sorting out my thoughts on life and education (which are largely the same thing). In the thickest part of the semester, I have reverted to survival -- a crisis to crisis mode of living that typically excludes critical reflection.

Over the next few days I hope to highlight some of my classroom experiences that stick out from the otherwise muted landscape that has been my recent life.

In the meantime, here is my reflection on the results of my collaboration project.

Using the assessment data collected, describe the impact of the collaboration plan on this student’s learning and describe possible next steps.

The collaboration plan outlined above is actually the second I attempted this semester. My initial collaboration plan involved a student in one of my supervising teacher’s classes. My ST and I had been working on that particular collaboration for about two weeks when the student was removed from our classroom and placed in a full collaboration classroom. Because of that unforeseen turn of events so early in the plan, I felt it necessary to develop another; however, the time that I have had to implement it has also been short.

I spoke with staff members from Cumberland Valley Comprehensive Care (henceforth, CC) on October 26th, and set an appointment with Jerry for the following Thursday, the 29th. In my conversations with CC staff members, they gave me further information about Jerry, his struggles, and some ways they thought I would be able to help him.

In my and Jerry’s first meeting on the 26th, my initial goal was to get a feel for his attitudes and feelings about language and reading, and see what his interest in reading might be. Once I met him and sat down with him, I could tell that he has many struggles. Although not at all unpleasant, his disposition seemed nervous and unsure of himself and his surroundings. His speech was slow, and his vocabulary was closer to that of an early elementary student than a 14 year-old.

As I began asking the questions I had prepared for our first meeting, I realized that I was treating Jerry like a case study or an information source rather than as a person. I was sitting in front of this child, taking notes on his life and struggles. Right in front of him. Once I realized the insensitivity of my business-like approach, I put my notebook and pen away. And then I asked him, “Jerry, what do you like to do when you get home from school?” At this, he began to open up – he told me about his and his family’s horses and about how he recently broke a two year-old. So, for the rest of our meeting I asked him about horses.

Through our first meeting, I came to understand that before it is possible to “help” someone with any difficulty, struggle, or deficiency, one must treat that person like a person. An essential aspect of treating one as a person is understanding that beliefs, misconceptions, and subsequent behaviors are the natural overflow of one’s experiences, pains, joys, disappointments, and desires. Jerry’s struggles with language and reading have not developed in separation from any other aspect of his life; there are ways he has not been nourished and nurtured throughout his life that have led to, among other things, not being able to read. Thus, illiteracy is a symptom of a deeper problem. Addressing the symptom without first treating the root is narrow-sighted, ineffective, and inhumane.

When I came to the realization that Jerry needed more than another specialist offering a given service in his life, it changed my attitude about the collaboration project as well as my approach to it and also to Jerry as an individual. First, I began trying to treat Jerry as my brother (I do, in fact, have a brother his exact age); I ask him about his life, what has been good, and what has been not so good about his week. Beyond that initial dialogue, I do help him review class work (which at this point is working on basic phonics) and read with him. But it is my desire and effort to care about and nurture him as a person first and foremost; without that deeper context, he would be “my project,” a resource I exploit for the purpose of attaining a degree.

In addition to my meetings with Jerry, I have had the opportunity to meet with both of his language teachers, Mr. Struck and Ms. Perkins, at Whitley County Middle School. They have given insight into Jerry’s progress thus far as well as class format, curriculum, and goals. Both of Jerry’s language classes are designed to help with severe literacy deficiencies. Ms. Perkins also informed me that the format of the class is focused on mastery; thus, all students receive the same grade. In light of that information, it has not been possible to chart his progress through his grades in his language classes.

Although I will not be able to measure his application of internal progress being made nor numerically represent how much he has learned, I believe that this collaboration is in the process of being a success. I say in the process for two reasons. First, literacy is a process that varies from individual to individual due to a variety of factors; thus, one should not assume that steps A, B, and C necessarily lead to result D within a desirably short period of time, even if certain statistics indicate that it is likely to happen. Jerry may not learn to read better; he might not ever be “successful” in terms of academic achievement, which is not to say that it is not possible. On the other hand, I believe that by treating him with patience, care, and respect, his literacy will grow at its own unique pace; at the same time, I believe he (and I as well) will grow as an individual because more of his basic needs are being met. Furthermore, this collaboration in is in the process of success because I am not going to stop meeting with Jerry when I no longer need him to help me make a grade (which is not to say there is anything wrong or shallow about having such a project in a class; rather, a project is only as substantial as a student handles it, and it is my desire to continue the connection that has begun developing between myself and Jerry). Growth may not happen as quickly as I would desire, but with time and patience, it will.

Just another Wednesday

For both of my loyal readers, here is an example of what I've been working on lately. It's a little section from part of the unit I am planning.

3. Key Concepts/Big Issues/Essential Question Focus:

For this unit, I want students to understand the difference between independent and dependent clauses and then be able to identify them in the context of sentences and paragraphs. Students will then apply their antecedent understanding of clauses to correct punctuation. To extend application into “real world” uses, students will prepare for and complete a pre-ACT grammar test; using correct punctuation is a central understanding assessed by the test, and although the class has been able to cover some grammar issues such as parts of speech, we have not yet been able to given punctuation sufficient consideration.

Although students will, in the end, apply their study of fundamental elements of English grammar to “real world” assessment, the unit will begin by addressing the question of language and test-preparation. Contrary to popular belief, doing exercises in a test-prep book will only teach one how to take the test; it will not teach one all that he or she needs to know whether being assessed or not. Prep books may be necessary (or at least helpful) tools, but they are not sufficient; language would be just as essential if it were never formally assessed.

___________________

Fun, fun.

Laying it down.

For the first time today I had all my STs classes without her being on campus. She has a 17 month old son who came down with some kind of illness and had to stay at home. So, it was my first chance to see how the students would respond to the absence of higher authority. For the most part, the day went as smoothly as it does when my ST is in the room or has stepped out a few minutes.

However, during 5th period, which is the class that has the most taxing effect on my energy and patience, a slightly more difficult than usual bell-ringer was enough distract them from the task at hand. The bell-ringer was a sentence that contained a misplaced phrasal modifier and a passive voice verb, which in the students' defense was more difficult than correcting verb tense or adding necessary punctuation.

As much as I wished that their literacy skills were sufficient to be able to at least understand my explanation, their difficulty in doing so was not my main concern. Rather, I encountered an all too common attitude among students: the belief that the importance of language is subjective -- as one of my students expressed, "It doesn't matter what I say or how I say it as long people know what I mean."

Typically my classroom demeanor is calm, and I try to be as light-hearted and goofy with the students as I can. But at this student's comment, I snapped. At one time in my like, this would mean raising my voice and asserting how right I am as opposed to how wrong other involved parties happen to be. But I made a decision long ago to never deal with my students in such a way. Instead, I lowered my voice (so that students would have pay closer attention), slowed the pace of my speech, and explained my belief about the importance of language. Among other comments, I shared with them:

Language will either enslave you or set you free. I am here because I do not want you to be someone else's slave.

My seriousness caught the students off-guard. Some of them it probably didn't benefit; but they heard a perspective on language that was new to them. And perhaps something, over time, will come of it.

"Use Whitley County Language"

Today, I had another opportunity to talk with one of my classes about the underlying importance of language. It's so easy to get caught up in the daily minutiae of teaching or attending class that it also becomes easy to lose sight of the foundational reasons for being there in the first place.

Similar to the events that have caused the same conversation in different classes, a student expressed that understanding correct grammar does not matter as long as one's audience understands what is being said. In fact, after the class arrived at the correct answer for a certain grammar mistake, one student interjected that I needed to use "Whitley County Language."

At this point, we started a conversation about misconceptions the outside world holds against Appalachians -- that they are all ignorant cousin-marrying hillbillies, for example. We also talked about the fact that most of them do not read and care little for language. I expressed to them that it is impossible to know oneself apart from a growing understanding of language. If one can learn to read and appreciate a piece of literature, one also becomes more able to read oneself and others.

Finally, we spoke about the beauty amidst difficulties they've experienced growing up in Appalachia. What they did not realize is that they are part of a unique people, dialect, and culture; however, without appreciating and seeking to better understand language, they won't be able to understand themselves, family, and culture, nor will they be able to express their unique perspective and understanding.

Through our discussion, the students got a glimpse into why I am there -- that my goal is not to pile homework on their backs but to help them -- in the end -- to think more clearly and to understand and express their individual and community identities.

More weight.

Recently, my junior English class read The Crucible, Arthur Miller's poignantly scathing critique of the Red Scare woven into a stylized account of the Salem Witch Trials. And over the last couple of days, we watched a recent film adaptation of the play. The film was well made -- cinematography, casting, performances. The students' response to the film was emotional, and rightfully so; how could one be unmoved by the hideous consequences of false assumptions, categorization, fear, and "faith" run a muck? We also had a solid discussion that began with a student assuming out loud, "Well, I'm glad nothing like that happens any more."

The assumption was a great segue into the fact that the class would soon research other examples of mass hysteria in American history: the Japanese-American internment during WWII, the Red Scare/ McCarthyism, and the anti-Arab actions of citizens and the Federal government in the aftermath of September 11, 2001. As the class continued, I shared enough information about the examples to whet their appetites for further study. And they expressed a certain level of appropriate outrage.

So, then, with online research being on today's educational menu, I again led my students across the hallway to the library to computer lab B -- the technological equivalent of the nose bleed section at a minor league baseball game. It's in the back of the library. Some of the printers don't print. The computers are slow. Some don't work at all. It is a constant uphill battle -- a stalemate between stalling hard drives and certain stagnating students. As it turns out, computer lab B is a self-contained metaphor of my experiences of integrating technology thus far. Whereas technology, in theory, speeds research, writing, work, and life in general, and whereas it is supposed to be Popeye's trusty can of spinach for sagging academic forearms, thus far it is has been a constant frustration.

That is not to say that no learning has taken place -- to the contrary, in fact. Students who would learn in most situations still learned; those who struggle through and do their best struggled through and did their best; and those who put forth minimum effort put forth less. In the lab there are so many more distractions -- a larger room than normal full of many more students than usual and plenty of other visual stimuli, constantly malfunctioning equipment, students sitting in closer proximity to each thereby increasing the temptation and feasibility of copying other students' work. Thus, the initial difficulty of managing a classroom of 30 teenagers is instantly multiplied.

At a certain point, I noticed that one of the students was very obviously getting answers from another student. This particular student is a constant challenge in the classroom. He combines a passive-aggressive disposition with a quick wit and sharp tongue. Although by far the most disruptive student as well as the one who puts forth the least effort on a daily basis, he may well be the most intelligent; despite failing the first 9 weeks of the class, he scored a 25 on the ACT. When I asked him about what he was doing, he was truthful; he stated precisely and with confidence what he had done. After I offered a different suggestion on the issue of academic honesty, he replied:

Well, why shouldn't I? It's worked for me this long.

And in a certain way, he is right. It has "worked" for him. It has, indeed, kept him from doing work. And, perhaps to his credit, it has liberated him from the sense of duty and responsibility to established socioeconomic and/ or cultural assumptions that preys upon and exploits the honest efforts of so many.

But what fruit will his assumptions bear in the long run? Although I have no desire to be needlessly cynical, I fear the outlook is bleak. According to the US Census Bureau, around 35% percent of Whitley County residents collect disability; less than 50% have jobs, and about 25% live below the poverty line -- which is twice the national average. Although it can be fallacious to reason from one's experience in a single classroom to a city, county, or region as a whole, it seems that local culture is pock-marked by cycles of generational dependency and sense of entitlement.

Since it seems that the motivated students are becoming, to a certain degree, self-educators (and will always be learning if that is the case), I feel drawn students like the one I have discussed -- it's the students like him whom I want to influence most. It's not that I (necessarily) want him to buy into academic pursuit and the way it is typically understood and conveyed in the modern secondary school. Certainly, school and academics are not for everyone; however, learning to desire and seek out the truth is indispensable to living a whole life. Thus, I hope to instill a love for knowing the truth that transcends the classroom, diplomas, academics, culture, and even language.

But is that what I am doing? Am I speaking truth? How can one do it in the first place? It could very well be that my best efforts to that end could be antithetical to it.

And now as the workload piles up -- the normal work of a teacher, the work of a student, and the subsequent tension of idealism confronted by a litany of assumed practicalities -- I find myself questioning if I have the courage to speak the reported words of Giles Corey from Act IV of The Crucible as slabs of rock were being gradually placed on his chest that he might falsely confess to witchcraft:

More weight!