Innagication

[This is cross posted to the blog for the MYP workshop in which I am currently enrolled]

My teaching has always been guided by a set of principles.  When I first started, the guiding principles were

• All kids can learn
• Math doesn’t suck, I know it but kids need to be convinced
• School should not be the experience that I hated

These principles aligned very well with those that guided my principal… which is probably why I got the job.  I was new and had some growing to do.  That growth was, thankfully guided by my principal. My department heads had a hand, no doubt, but they took their lead from our principal.  My lessons were very different than traditional math lessons, students did as much, if not more, talking than I did…and most of my lessons ended frantically because the students and I had lost track of time.  Not that this wasn’t effective…I had some pretty tout-able results.

When I changed schools, I had a new principal….who was very…different from my previous principal… but she was the boss, so I had to adjust my teaching to make sure she was happy.  For that period of time I was guided by these same basic principles, but they were joined by

• the teacher in the room is there for a reason
• the math classroom model has worked well for decades

My lessons, for the most part, ended on time for that year.

After that principal left, I worked for another principal, who was, yet again, different from my previous principal.  He, like me, did not particularly enjoy his math lessons growing up and so the last principle added to my list was, thankfully, removed.  Other than that, I was guided by his perspective of someone who did not particularly enjoy math as a subject, but saw, and often testified about the profound importance of it across the school and in life afterward.  My mind was opened to the idea of cross-curricular work and I adopted a more holistic view of curriculum planning and delivery.  I partnered with colleagues in other departments and attempted some trans-disciplinary units….with some success.  So, to my list I added

• who students are and become (including how they see the world) is more important than my content area’s concepts and skills.

Now I work for another principal… who has her own principles.  So far, I don’t see my list changing too much.  We are in the process of becoming an MYP authorized school, so my principal is very aware of the IBMYP guiding principles and how they impact my teaching.  I think that my inherent principles align nicely with the IBMYP guiding principles… which pleases my principal, I think.  It isn’t a coincidence that the most recently added to my list was developed while at an IB World School, as it is the most MYP-esque.

In the end, as teachers, we are responsible to ourselves, yes, but to our principals, especially.  It is their school…. they have the ultimate responsibility to make the learning environment follow their vision.  As Chris Lehmann has pointed out on his blog, Practical Theory, “the values [held by] an administrator will be reflected in the values teachers manifest when they work with the kids.”

Recently, I received a link to the article, What Teachers Really Want to Tell Parents. At first, I like (I’m certain) plenty of other teachers, felt myself saying, “Yeah, that’s right!”
…but then…
I thought about the times that my students’ perspective of situations in my classroom was different than mine.
I thought about the likelihood that those perspectives were more accurate at least some of the time.
I thought about the fact that reality, for anyone, is merely their perception of reality.
I thought about my own children.

And then…
I wondered if the author of the article has any children of his own.
I wondered if he has ever had to be the unwelcome advocate for his kids or someone else’s.

Parents have the responsibility, and therefore the right, to be a bit bothersome when they feel it is what is best for their kids. Parents are, sometimes, the only people looking out for their kids. In my opinion, that includes all of the behaviors the author whines (yes, whines) about.

Teachers, as the article’s author notes, are professionals. They are not infallible. They, we, should be kept in check. Otherwise, bad practice and poor outcomes come calling.
As professionals, we should expertly interact with parents, diffusing volatile situations by relating in ways that everyone can understand in the best interest of students. And then, maintaining our professionalism, we should smile, thank the parents for the insights they offered and not discuss the matter with other parties. Or write articles for CNN about it.

It is a shame that teachers are “run off” by parents. The solution is not to tell off the parents or vent about it in the staffroom or quit the profession. The issue is to seek guidance, support and mentoring. Maybe teachers need some customer service training. I know my decade spent as a service industry manager has probably helped me. Maybe teachers need more training in designing classroom environments that are less susceptible to parent concern.

I wonder if this kind of stuff could get into the reform discussions going on these days…

I just completed the Nova Scotia marathon (my first marathon). It started out pretty well and I was pleased with my 5K, 10K, and half-marathon times. Sometime around 15 miles (24K) my right knee started to give me quite a bit of pain. In the end, I finished about 25 minutes later than I think I should have because I had to walk so much. I am happy I finished and mean no disrespect to others that have finished in about the same amount of time, I just think I could have done better.

Reflection upon the run yielded a few parallels with education.

First off the one that resounded most loudly is that every body part has to deliver on race day. It didn’t matter that my heart rate was staying low, my legs (muscularly, speaking) and feet felt good, nothing was chaffing and my breathing was slow and steady. My knee “stopped” delivering. No matter how much I willed other parts of my body to compensate, I couldn’t hold a jog for a kilometer without immense pain. It reminds me of limiting resources that I learned about in a university course called Operations Research. Basically, if memory serves, it doesn’t matter how much of “everything else” you have to get a job done, you can only get as much done as your limiting resource(s) will allow. In education we talk about the “partnership” that exists between parent, student and school. Today’s experience made me realize that each piece has to deliver all year long, year after year. Parents, teachers, students, admin, school board, maintenance teams, bus drivers, TA/EA’s – all the parts – have to deliver at top capacity throughout the entire “race” or, unfortunately, we’ll end the year feeling like we could have done better. How many educators hit the beginning of May with one thought on their minds: summer? The expression, “it is a marathon, not a sprint,” should not be used to excuse apathy throughout the year, but instead invoked to inspire us all to push though the end each year and finish strong.

Another thought that occurred to me is a bit of a cliche. Well, two actually, but it is nice to be reminded. One, plan (plan, plan, plan) ahead and two, expect the unexpected. I have done a good handful of road races of varying distances including half-marathons as well as a ton of training runs. I learned from these runs and used that learning to do all I could to set myself up for a successful marathon. I foresaw chaffing, GI discomfort, weather variation and, of course, cardiovascular and leg endurance. I planned and prepared for all of these. My knees have never given me any trouble, so I didn’t worry too much about them. Murphy’s law, right? Talking to my wife, who happens to be my personal trainer, nutrition coach (check out her blog) and favorite running partner (sorry to those of you that I run with, but it’s true), I probably could have done more weight training, which could have prevented some (if not all) of the pain. I didn’t expect to be running on an angle for, what felt like, a majority of the run. I should have.

Lastly, company (that is, other people around you) counts for something (I think I have blogged about this before, or maybe just drafted about it). The last 5K I met up with a guy who was having trouble as well. He had passed me about 3K back and I had watched him alternate between jogging and walking until I caught back up to him. His knee was bothering him too, which I suspected because I happen to hear him ask about the possibility of switching to the half-marathon event citing his knee as a cause for doubt. We encouraged each other and finished together, extending the amount we could sustain a jog bit-by-bit such that we were able to jog the last kilometer-and-a-half (maybe a bit more). Colleagues in education are important in the same way: we all need encouragement and partnership sometimes. Thanks, Dennis, I couldn’t have finished strong without you. I don’t plan on running another marathon without a partner and I hope to always have someone to at least bounce ideas off of at work.

Today is the first day of another year of my life. Yes, for those who didn’t know, yesterday was my birthday. The way I figure, I have another shot at new year’s resolutions. One of them being to reflect upon and reevaluate goals more regularly…by blogging (?). I have, once again, taken too long of a break from thinking about ‘innovation, imagination, education and their compilation’. That is, I haven’t blogged in awhile. The truth is, I haven’t wanted to publish very many of my thoughts lately. They haven’t been very good (in my opinion and its my blog), and I like to put out ‘good’ stuff. I have been feeling a bit negative lately and I hope to start this new year with a bit more of a positive outlook. To do that, I think I need to reevaluate some goals because, as the post title suggests, I feel like I have let myself down a bit.

At the beginning of October last year, I decided to begin training for a marathon I wasn’t sure was going to happen. There was a half-marathon in Suzhou in April of 2010 and I had heard from some runners that the planning committee wanted to expand to include a full marathon. I ran the Nova Scotia Half Marathon in July 2010 and wanted to take the next step (pun intended). I mentioned to a few people that I was interested in doing this and even found myself a training partner. I followed the training schedule (even through Christmas and New Year’s), but just lost steam, or maybe lost interest. I’m not sure why, but running just wasn’t fun anymore…I didn’t want to do it – at all – not just the 18 mile training runs. This scared me. I fell in love with running when it helped me find a healthy lifestyle and shed close to 100 pounds of excess body weight. The idea that I wasn’t finding the motivation to run terrified me, as the only possible (in my hyper-sensitive-to-my-former-obese-self mind) outcome was a return to my former trouser size. Two weeks ago, after not hearing anything about the marathon I was training for but no longer looking forward to, I confirmed that there is not going to be a marathon event… SO I’M NOT TRAINING FOR IT ANYMORE!!! …and I’m really happy about it. Karen (my wife) and I are going to run the half-marathon (assuming there is not some hang-up when we try to register) together. Maybe I’ll run the Nova Scotia full marathon in the summer.

So why is this on my ‘professional reflection blog’? I think that the tangible reminder that chasing a lofty goal can ruin a good thing totally applies to the ‘work-Mark’ side of me as well. If something is going well, I don’t have to innovate… I can just keep doing it. It shouldn’t be about what’s new, hip and trendy in education. It should be about getting the desired results from teaching and learning experiences. That’s not to say I’ll stop setting lofty goals, I’m just going to try to remember to continuously reevaluate the ‘destination’ and make sure that the journey is as good as it can be.

I just read an article in The Palm Beach Post raising oft asked question of whether or not technology in the classroom is a good thing. More accurately, it explores whether or not it should be a (monetary) priority. I’m pretty sure my perspective on the matter is known. Most of the article was right on target. They focused mainly on two pieces of technology: interactive student response remotes and wireless tablets, both of which I have used in my classes. I really appreciated that the main interviewees were math teachers; we often get forgotten about. Some of the pros and cons of both technologies were acknowledged, all of which I agree with (yes, even the cons).
What struck me enough to write about it was the last two sentences:

“You’re still seeing a human being explain and interpret,” Samore said. “The teacher is still front and center.”

Doh! The big AHA! about using technology in the classroom is it gives the teacher the ability to step out of the spotlight and put each student front and center for the sake of their own learning. They construct knowledge through the research and creation that the technology allows. Even with interactive student response remotes and tablets, students can control the flow of the discussion and do the demonstrating and explaining. Don’t get me wrong: there needs to be an expert in the room (I don’t want to write myself out of a job) – they just don’t need to do all of the talking ‘front and center’.

Happy Holidays!

I just read an article here with the headline,

Low-tech classrooms may actually improve students’ math scores
Math skills — Limiting technology early on could help develop basic math skills

As a math teacher and an educational technologist, I was intrigued. I have found that technology has invigorated my math lessons, allowing my students to manipulate and visualize abstract concepts. The big Aha! for me was the sentence,

Although her research uncovered other findings that may account for high Japanese math scores — including highly competent educators, meaningful leading questions and more time for processing — the results also point to the possible benefits of limiting, or outright banning, technology in the classroom.

It doesn’t surprise me that highly competent educators asking meaningful leading questions and providing sufficient processing time are getting good results. Good teachers get good results everywhere – not just Japan.

I wonder if they infused a bit of technology in meaningful ways if their results would be even better? Are our students’ choices good teachers or technology? Can’t there be both?

Recently, I participated in my first run with the Hash House Harriers. If you like, you can read about their history, but basically, the Hashers are a light-hearted running club that get together every so often and do a run and then have drink and a laugh. Admittedly, that is a bit of an oversimplification, but I promise to explain more as I go.

Since that run, I have had these ideas about how some of the principles and practices of Hashing apply to other areas of my life. Most of these ideas have been polished while listening to my feet hit the ground during solo runs.

So, in no particular order, here are some lessons from the Hash:

• The people you’re following don’t always know where they’re going either.
  In hashing, a couple (or more) members of the club go out ahead of time and mark the route of the run. In the tradition of Hashing, these members are called the “hares” for that run. They don’t just mark a series of road signs that say “turn here” and “go straight 200 m”, but instead use symbols, flour and toilet paper to leavea cryptic set of clues where to go. As a new hasher, my eye was not as keen to look for these clues and didn’t feel comfortable to be followed. The funny thing is, others, who had no clue where they were going, were quite comfortable to give the impression that they did… leading us down the wrong path. Often, I realize that those that I am following in life are just as unsure of where they are going. They are not as savvy to the route indicators as their position or status might imply, but they have the confidence to lead. Just like on the hash, I follow with respect, because at least the FRB’s had the guts to lead.
• Even if you have some related experience, new things are new things – don’t expect it to be old hat.
  I run. I run a bunch. I run outdoors a bunch. That being said, the hash was all new. To come in and think that I knew the ropes off-the-bat would have been pretentious and socially counterproductive. So I asked questions, listened intently and observed as much as I could. This is a skill that can always be better developed and practiced.
• Attitude is everything.
  I know, I know – This is an oldie – but it is a goody, too. I could have been bummed out that the run I choose to go on was on a rainy day. I could have been grumpy about the fact that there was a bus accident making the drive to the run much longer than it should have been. I could have hated the fact that I ran a kilometer in soft mud next to a stinky lake. Instead, I chose to be happy that the weather would keep me from over-heating, the long bus ride gave me time to share conversations with new acquaintances, the mud make the workout that much more rewarding and the stinky lake was beautiful. It is always a choice. Being positive feels better that being negative.
• Learn the lingo (vocabulary/symbology)
  Hashers, like most organizations and systems, have their own symbols and vernacular. In education, we have more acronyms than I want to think about – but when working, living, relating with people it is a good idea to speak the same language. If you are a newcomer, don’t expect them to learn yours.

ON-ON!

Sorry about the long post title.

I just read that a UK school has enlisted Indian maths tutors online on BBC News. This could totally integrate with my previous idea of focusing on single classroom, big idea project based learning. When some heavy lifting needs to be done and there isn’t an embedded subject specialist with which to team-teach, something like this could be used to give the kids the differentiated, one-on-one learning experience they need.

Love it!

David Warlick recently blogged about the idea of an Art Integrationist, which was interesting to me but, like him, I was more excited about one of the take-beyonds (“which are different from take-aways, because they are ideas that I heard, that the presenter didn’t actually say” – I’m definitely using that in the future). He bounced around the idea of a math integrationist, science integrationist, literacy integrationist, etcetera. That got me thinking, if all of what we consider core subject teacher positions became integrationist positions, where would the students spend the bulk of their time?  What would the specialist teachers be integrating into?  So then I postulated, maybe secondary students should be in a generalist homeroom, like most of their primary counterparts. This is essentially where it all started isn’t it?  So that idea led me to consider the fact that something must have led educators (and/or policy makers) to change it to the way it is now…

So way back when, just after the one-room school house era, kids had one teacher for every subjuect, right up until they went off to post-secondary education, right?  We kept this model for k-5 education, but switched to the single subject specialist for 6-12.  Why?  I mean, I have nothing against it – but something must have motivated someone to make the switch, right?

Fast forward to the turn of the millennium and the big push (well, one of them) is cross-curriculuar links.  The IB MYP has the Areas of Interaction, the IB DP has Theory of Knowledge.  Everyone seems to think that holistic education is the way to go (I agree, by the way).  So, did we have it right to begin with?  Should all of our same-age students sit in the same classroom and work on real-world, authentic, meaningful projects and specialist-integrationists rotate in to team-teach the heavy lifting?  Put that radical idea with CEO’s writing standards and managers from outside the education industry being trained as principals and you have a pretty radical school – that just may be AWESOME!

If I got my facts twisted or you have related, similar or opposing ideas, I’m ready for a conversation.