For years, I used to give my students the question, "Does punishment work?" as an essay topic. Usually, I got about a 50/50 response, with it coming down to, "it depends on the kid." Most often, they gave examples of how punishments worked on their younger siblings. Whether they were being honest or not, my students usually felt that punishments had stopped working on them -- not because they didn't feel the pain they caused, but because their actions were decisions based on what they thought were rational ideas. Since I've spent the majority of my career working with the overage and under-credited, I'm biased in favor of the latter set of arguments. I've met students who didn't succeed in school because they were busy trying to survive on a much more fundamental level. Yes, I know, there have been homeless kids who get perfect SAT scores. I'd argue that those kids are very talented to begin with. Having gone to Stuyvesant High School, I can also tell you that a lot of very talented kids have trouble succeeding academically when their basic needs are not being met. Exceptions never prove rules.
I think the same formula can be used for adults.
Call me a child of the 70's, but I believe the only way people learn is through forgiveness. Yes, I think wrong behavior should be addressed. But, no teacher or student wants to do harm or to fail. People make mistakes out of frustration, whether they are very young or not so young.
I put this note out there for everyone to consider. You don't need to write five paragraphs in response. Just let me know what you think.
Showing posts with label Klein. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Klein. Show all posts
22 March, 2010
13 March, 2010
Teacher Isolation
At the end of the day, for about five minutes, I sat with a colleague while he played Pink Floyd's The Wall on his personal laptop. We talked about it -- the themes, where we were when it came out -- I was graduating from 8th grade, he saw the movie with a group of friends. The movie had gotten to me later, in high school, along with Tommy. I always want to go right home after school, which is a new feeling for me. I used to sit with kids for hours or just work with a colleague. But now I wondered why I wasn't right out the door. I needed those five minutes. And then I pushed myself out the door.
Last week someone stole my cell phone and I lost all of my contacts -- it's easy to erase your identity when a person has your handset. There are so many people whom I will never see again, whose phone numbers kept me connected to them. It gave me the semblance of a community. Now, I'm a pushy person. There are colleagues I know who have probably never asked for the phone numbers of colleagues with whom they have worked for years. While people worked closely together, they were much more conscious of their privacy in the generations before me. There was no Facebook to casually sign up on, and they probably wouldn't have, anyway. Perhaps they might have shared their "Linked-In" pages. I doubt it. A recent study of new teachers found that many of them are leaving the profession because they feel isolated, too -- although mentoring programs have helped to reduce some attrition. (How Mentoring Programs Can Reduce Teacher Isolation http://cie.asu.edu/volume8/number14/) There's been a lot of writing on the plight of new teachers, on the need for teachers to collaborate, to communicate with the outside world -- but little on what is happening to the school community itself which makes these, and just connecting with long-time colleagues, near impossible.
With all the closings of schools and the shiftings of personnel, there must be scores of teachers who have lost their communities, and some of their only long-term friends. Working together means you talk to each other every day. But without that ritual, you don't have a way to continue the intimacy. Some people will call each other for a while, perhaps. Juxtaposing the feelings you have for the colleagues with whom you were close and trusting and that of terror which has come with this new era of instability makes it harder to talk to anyone, though. You don't know if your friends have changed. Are they still for real? Are you for real?
In the coming weeks I want to look at studies on teacher loneliness and see if anyone is looking at what is happening to the population of teachers in NYC who are being continually displaced. Are they socializing anywhere? Are they eating alone? Sure a lot of teachers have joined the blogosphere. What about those who haven't. What does it mean to all of us that we have lost direct human contact with so many, so instantly.
Anyone who wants to write in, please do.
Last week someone stole my cell phone and I lost all of my contacts -- it's easy to erase your identity when a person has your handset. There are so many people whom I will never see again, whose phone numbers kept me connected to them. It gave me the semblance of a community. Now, I'm a pushy person. There are colleagues I know who have probably never asked for the phone numbers of colleagues with whom they have worked for years. While people worked closely together, they were much more conscious of their privacy in the generations before me. There was no Facebook to casually sign up on, and they probably wouldn't have, anyway. Perhaps they might have shared their "Linked-In" pages. I doubt it. A recent study of new teachers found that many of them are leaving the profession because they feel isolated, too -- although mentoring programs have helped to reduce some attrition. (How Mentoring Programs Can Reduce Teacher Isolation http://cie.asu.edu/volume8/number14/) There's been a lot of writing on the plight of new teachers, on the need for teachers to collaborate, to communicate with the outside world -- but little on what is happening to the school community itself which makes these, and just connecting with long-time colleagues, near impossible.
With all the closings of schools and the shiftings of personnel, there must be scores of teachers who have lost their communities, and some of their only long-term friends. Working together means you talk to each other every day. But without that ritual, you don't have a way to continue the intimacy. Some people will call each other for a while, perhaps. Juxtaposing the feelings you have for the colleagues with whom you were close and trusting and that of terror which has come with this new era of instability makes it harder to talk to anyone, though. You don't know if your friends have changed. Are they still for real? Are you for real?
In the coming weeks I want to look at studies on teacher loneliness and see if anyone is looking at what is happening to the population of teachers in NYC who are being continually displaced. Are they socializing anywhere? Are they eating alone? Sure a lot of teachers have joined the blogosphere. What about those who haven't. What does it mean to all of us that we have lost direct human contact with so many, so instantly.
Anyone who wants to write in, please do.
04 March, 2010
Being Positive
I was on the phone with a former student, now a mother of two in her thirties. She kept telling me to "be positive." I explained that being positive scares me. To me, it implies that there's no concrete evidence of the possibility of success.
...When my mother was in college, her Intro to Psychology professor told his class to "Feel free to ask any questions." My mother raised her hand and said that she no longer felt free because his invitation had made her feel self-conscious. If she were really free, why would anyone need to mention it.
So often, palliative phrases reveal the problems beneath the surface.
...When my mother was in college, her Intro to Psychology professor told his class to "Feel free to ask any questions." My mother raised her hand and said that she no longer felt free because his invitation had made her feel self-conscious. If she were really free, why would anyone need to mention it.
So often, palliative phrases reveal the problems beneath the surface.
02 March, 2010
Re-invention
Practically every night, before I finally make the climb up to my cave in Bensonhurst (in Brooklyn, caves have staircases), I stop at the local supermarket to pick up groceries. Once upon a time, I was organized and bought a month's worth of groceries on a Sunday and had everything delivered. Now, I plan my meals in a pay-as-you-go fashion.
My supermarket is staffed by a steady crew of male and female teenagers and middle-aged women, all of whom are thoughtful and smarter than their jobs. I wish I were better at easy conversation and that my life weren't constantly paper-clipped with explanations. It's too difficult to keep explaining, so I don't anymore. We still say, "Hello," but there's not much eye contact.
Tonight, I took a deep breath and mentioned I was tired. The very polite young woman who is one of the few left who still tries to tease a smile from my jowls, answered, rather darkly, "at least you're working."
This is technically my 18th year of teaching. And I'm very tired. I'm in a situation to which I am totally unaccustomed and which keeps adding new variables. Yesterday, during a faculty meeting, we watched the short video, "Shift Happens," which makes projections about computers who will be able to outsmart all humans by 2049 and my students needing to work 14 different jobs in their lifetimes. It also talks about the need for students to problem solve. Of late, I've found students unwilling to take on that challenge. Whereas they once seemed interested in being involved in their community, they've grown apathetic. Some of that has to do with being 10-12 and not really knowing how to begin. They still ask how they should begin their essays, sometimes.
When I was their age, I already took ownership of my writing and you COULDN'T tell me how to begin an essay. Yet, I can be as dumbfounded as they are when it comes to problem solving in my own life. At 42, our economy, American greed and Puritanism be damned, is asking me to re-think how to think about myself. I'm not the kind of person to respond well to books about the subject and I intuitively loathe the genre of self-help. I've always found it amusing that Tony Roberts discovered his calling as a guru in that field after failing in others. What I'd rather do is imagine bringing a case to the Supreme Court proving that we are denying our children equal protection of the law by not equalizing the funding of education throughout the country. Do I go to law school? My track record for winning battles is very poor. I can create the argument, but I can't speak it. More often than not, I can't speak, these days.
My own trepidation and my exhaustion necessitates a process of re-invention that is careful and which can be done with some solitude. Of course, my biggest enemy is time.
My supermarket is staffed by a steady crew of male and female teenagers and middle-aged women, all of whom are thoughtful and smarter than their jobs. I wish I were better at easy conversation and that my life weren't constantly paper-clipped with explanations. It's too difficult to keep explaining, so I don't anymore. We still say, "Hello," but there's not much eye contact.
Tonight, I took a deep breath and mentioned I was tired. The very polite young woman who is one of the few left who still tries to tease a smile from my jowls, answered, rather darkly, "at least you're working."
This is technically my 18th year of teaching. And I'm very tired. I'm in a situation to which I am totally unaccustomed and which keeps adding new variables. Yesterday, during a faculty meeting, we watched the short video, "Shift Happens," which makes projections about computers who will be able to outsmart all humans by 2049 and my students needing to work 14 different jobs in their lifetimes. It also talks about the need for students to problem solve. Of late, I've found students unwilling to take on that challenge. Whereas they once seemed interested in being involved in their community, they've grown apathetic. Some of that has to do with being 10-12 and not really knowing how to begin. They still ask how they should begin their essays, sometimes.
When I was their age, I already took ownership of my writing and you COULDN'T tell me how to begin an essay. Yet, I can be as dumbfounded as they are when it comes to problem solving in my own life. At 42, our economy, American greed and Puritanism be damned, is asking me to re-think how to think about myself. I'm not the kind of person to respond well to books about the subject and I intuitively loathe the genre of self-help. I've always found it amusing that Tony Roberts discovered his calling as a guru in that field after failing in others. What I'd rather do is imagine bringing a case to the Supreme Court proving that we are denying our children equal protection of the law by not equalizing the funding of education throughout the country. Do I go to law school? My track record for winning battles is very poor. I can create the argument, but I can't speak it. More often than not, I can't speak, these days.
My own trepidation and my exhaustion necessitates a process of re-invention that is careful and which can be done with some solitude. Of course, my biggest enemy is time.
27 October, 2009
Take the AX out of the ATR's Back: A personal story
A year ago, I was an ATR eager to find permanent placement. At the same time, I was in a relatively unstressful position which would have allowed me the room to consider any offers made to me. The volume and intensity of the Bloomberg press campaign was the first to shatter my sense of space for reflection. I walked in to my weekly therapy appointment and the first words out of my normally Pollyanish psychologist were, "You're right. You are going to lose your job. I thought you were just catastrophising." She had just read a series of articles in The Times and they had bowled her over. My anxieties came less from the mainstream press which I knew to be largely biased in the Mayor's favor, but from the words of the bloggers I have come to trust on many things and who had been very helpful to me in my first encounters with the 3020a machine. Still, some of the points they predict about ATR's have yet to come to fruition and worse, the cloud they have placed over the heads over ATR's have caused some of us, like me, to make career decisions out of desperation.
There have always been those on the blogosphere who take some of the choices in the UFT's negotiation process to their darkest logical conclusions. The pictures representing ATR's being loaded off on trucks and the tales of "secret deals" made re the ATR positions proliferate on websites of organizations and people who are often right on larger political points. But, they have been wrong about the UFT's dedication to ATR's from the beginning. If they had thought about it, aside from the fact that our UFT stands for job security, if for nothing else, there is the "Thorn in the side" which the ATR plays in the bargaining process. Since the ATR's cannot be easily done away with and they represent an embarassing managerial and financial situation at the DOE (what CEO of his company can't get his directors to hire a constituency to which the company has legal obligations) finding suitable and efficient placements for the ATR should be something of priority to the DOE. The DOE doesn't look any better than the UFT if it can't GET principals to hire teachers and they therefore languish in the lounge.
During my time as an ATR, I did have few days of such dullness, but most of the time there were multiple things to do, particularly during the term in which I served as a Dean.
But, in refusing to see that
1)the UFT has not yet abandoned ATR's or made statements to that effect and;
2) while few ATR's are in comfortable situations, they are, at least, still eligible to be hired and, for now, to be chosen by a school which might be a good fit;
those who spread the rumors of the doom of the ATR place the brunt of the ax they have to grind (legitimately or not) with the UFT squarely on the backs of the ATR's. Many of us, myself included, jumped at job offers which, given a lesser feeling of desperation, we might have much more rationally turned down. I'm teaching 6th grade two hours from my house at a brand new school. Fortunately, I have a supportive administration and I'm eager to learn. However, I am currently as effective as a first year teacher with no training with this age group. At 41, I have to completely reinvent my methodology and personality and while it is an interesting challenge, it is not easy. I've been playing tug-o-war with the flu and sinusytis and their winning. That plus the stress which comes from feeling like a novice at a game you used to dominate can make it hard not to grab a Hairshirt and take penance.
Like in much of my career, I've been lucky. I worked with some visionary and patient educators like Malaika Holman-Bermiss at Brooklyn Comprehensive. At my current school, my administration shares her respect for the process of learning necessary to developing good teachers. Moreover, I've been helped by the UFT in so many ways and by so many people. I will have a mentor at this position due to the intervention of Amy Arundell, who has been as understanding as a human can be. A few years back, Charlie Turner represented me with such clarity of strategy that he created the foundation for my getting out of a difficult situation. And I will never be able to thank Arthur Solomon enough, for serving as my surrogate father during my year of hell in the land of the reassigned. And Randi Weingarten read so many of my emails, regardless of my point of view, that the dialogue was a continued source of much needed comfort and intellectual challenge. Plus, she directed people like Amy to me who have made an enormous difference to me.
I cannot forget either the enormous support which the blogger community gave to Brooklyn Comprehensive, especially Norm Scott and the entire ICE community.
All I am saying, however, is that the aggression with which the image of the ATR on a tightrope has been pushed forward has had terrible consequences for UFT members. I am not alone in my awkwardly fitting position, two hours from my house, and at this moment fighting off infections which are also the results of being so run down by the intense challenge of the situation. I've taught mostly older adolescents a range of subjects from college prep to AP English and a lot of skills courses along the way. The transition to ten year olds who need very many of the same skills courses but in different packages is fathomable, but just. Barring my dying of a never-ending battle with infections and flus, I should be able to see my way clear to this in a few months. I have a supportive administration and faculty. But, had I not felt an ax in my back, I might've waited until I found a similarly exciting school in Bushwick or East New York.
There have always been those on the blogosphere who take some of the choices in the UFT's negotiation process to their darkest logical conclusions. The pictures representing ATR's being loaded off on trucks and the tales of "secret deals" made re the ATR positions proliferate on websites of organizations and people who are often right on larger political points. But, they have been wrong about the UFT's dedication to ATR's from the beginning. If they had thought about it, aside from the fact that our UFT stands for job security, if for nothing else, there is the "Thorn in the side" which the ATR plays in the bargaining process. Since the ATR's cannot be easily done away with and they represent an embarassing managerial and financial situation at the DOE (what CEO of his company can't get his directors to hire a constituency to which the company has legal obligations) finding suitable and efficient placements for the ATR should be something of priority to the DOE. The DOE doesn't look any better than the UFT if it can't GET principals to hire teachers and they therefore languish in the lounge.
During my time as an ATR, I did have few days of such dullness, but most of the time there were multiple things to do, particularly during the term in which I served as a Dean.
But, in refusing to see that
1)the UFT has not yet abandoned ATR's or made statements to that effect and;
2) while few ATR's are in comfortable situations, they are, at least, still eligible to be hired and, for now, to be chosen by a school which might be a good fit;
those who spread the rumors of the doom of the ATR place the brunt of the ax they have to grind (legitimately or not) with the UFT squarely on the backs of the ATR's. Many of us, myself included, jumped at job offers which, given a lesser feeling of desperation, we might have much more rationally turned down. I'm teaching 6th grade two hours from my house at a brand new school. Fortunately, I have a supportive administration and I'm eager to learn. However, I am currently as effective as a first year teacher with no training with this age group. At 41, I have to completely reinvent my methodology and personality and while it is an interesting challenge, it is not easy. I've been playing tug-o-war with the flu and sinusytis and their winning. That plus the stress which comes from feeling like a novice at a game you used to dominate can make it hard not to grab a Hairshirt and take penance.
Like in much of my career, I've been lucky. I worked with some visionary and patient educators like Malaika Holman-Bermiss at Brooklyn Comprehensive. At my current school, my administration shares her respect for the process of learning necessary to developing good teachers. Moreover, I've been helped by the UFT in so many ways and by so many people. I will have a mentor at this position due to the intervention of Amy Arundell, who has been as understanding as a human can be. A few years back, Charlie Turner represented me with such clarity of strategy that he created the foundation for my getting out of a difficult situation. And I will never be able to thank Arthur Solomon enough, for serving as my surrogate father during my year of hell in the land of the reassigned. And Randi Weingarten read so many of my emails, regardless of my point of view, that the dialogue was a continued source of much needed comfort and intellectual challenge. Plus, she directed people like Amy to me who have made an enormous difference to me.
I cannot forget either the enormous support which the blogger community gave to Brooklyn Comprehensive, especially Norm Scott and the entire ICE community.
All I am saying, however, is that the aggression with which the image of the ATR on a tightrope has been pushed forward has had terrible consequences for UFT members. I am not alone in my awkwardly fitting position, two hours from my house, and at this moment fighting off infections which are also the results of being so run down by the intense challenge of the situation. I've taught mostly older adolescents a range of subjects from college prep to AP English and a lot of skills courses along the way. The transition to ten year olds who need very many of the same skills courses but in different packages is fathomable, but just. Barring my dying of a never-ending battle with infections and flus, I should be able to see my way clear to this in a few months. I have a supportive administration and faculty. But, had I not felt an ax in my back, I might've waited until I found a similarly exciting school in Bushwick or East New York.
23 August, 2009
The dangers of meaningless success
It's hard to tell a parent NOT to be encouraging to a child. They want to convince their kids they can be superheroes so that, I think, when the time comes for them to make their choices in life, they will not feel that they did not have the opportunity to follow their dreams. I'm not here to make the conventional lecture about this attitude, that, yes, little Zeno may have the opportunity to play basketball, but if he has poor balance, the NBA may not be in his future. Many little Zenos have worked so hard as to build serviceable careers either as athletes, broadcasters, writers or coaches at all levels of the sport. What I'm concerned about, besides the fact that there are so few opportunities even for the hardworking in an economy which out-speeds itself in speculation as opposed to observation, is that behind the parents' insistence that Zeno can do it, is an acceptance that, if he can't, it's okay, he can live at home.
Now, I have nothing against parents or their adult children who live with them. My question is, though: Did they really give Zeno the green light to go after his dream or to fail at it? And I believe our public schools are complicit in this regard.
In NYC, parents of public school children are given plenty of reasons to feel content with their children's development. Every year, their children are "tested" to see if they can advance to the next grade. The fact that the NY State exams have been proven invalid as markers for appropriate academic achievement by the results of the NEAP exams is not at the forefront of our media. For 18 million dollars, Mike Bloomberg has launched a campaign that makes "I Like Ike" look like it was the slogan for a student-body president. He isn't lying in the sense that these children did pass an exam. That the exam was beneath the students to whom it was given doesn't matter. After all, he could argue, do you ask the average third grade ballet student to be held to the rigor of the American Ballet Theater school? But, if we don't, then how will this young person really know if he/she is on the path to his/her dream? How will young Marie know her math skills are where they need to be if she is to develop into a scientist? How will her parents know?
You're probably thinking Marie and Zeno's parents are happy enough that they enjoy something in life and have some proficiency in it. They know, right, that the odds are good their kids are going to work a job they hate because they're going to have to "do what they gotta do" to survive?
While it may be true that most people don't go on to make a living at what they want to do, that's no reason to destroy their true opportunities from the onset. Worse, it's leaving most of our students with a proficiency which wouldn't even let them follow the field in popular literature or as amateur enthusiasts. Zeno will get all he needs to know about basketball from watching TV, you think? What if he can't understand the best commentators on the sport. I heard a cashier at a local supermarket talk about how she can't stand listening to legendary broadcaster Tim McCarver because "he knows nothing." When I pressed her for an example, she said that he "just goes on and on and nobody understands him." That's like saying that Keith Olbermann has no sense of irony. So, if Zeno's language skills are low, he may miss a lot of information and perspective which would help him to understand the game, how it's reported and how it advances.
When I was a kid, I was given the sense that the world was open to me. When I went on to high school, I was given even more of a sense that I might be a leader within it. In college, I floundered --not academically-- but somewhat artistically. My critical skills were always strong, but I didn't know nearly as much about how plays are actually put on as I thought. And I didn't integrate well into a performing ensemble because I was extremely defensive. Nevertheless, I got excellent grades in my major of Theater and no one ever sat me down to talk about the pragmatics of my entering the field. I went to an esteemed school and my degree was not an artistic one, but one in liberal arts. In other words, for a non-artist, I had done well. But, no one explained this to me, then. I learned this when I went on to get an MFA--a degree designed to test my abilities as a theatrical artist. I learned about what BA programs were and weren't designed to do, and I faced the fact that I could teach, write about or work in a quasi-academic role assisting a director, but that my temperament in itself was going to make it hard for me to direct or act, whether or not I had real talent. Had I been assessed this way in college, I'd probably have changed the strategies I used to plan my studies and my future. I'd've known that I needed to head to a Ph.D. program and I'd've thought of myself as a historian/scholar. Thankfully, my schooling did give me advantages I could have and could still use to pursue that aspect of the field.
My mother and I had a few exchanges in which I assured her I could become a teacher if theater didn't work out. When she asked me, about two years ago, why I felt unsatisfied with my achievements, I pointed out among other things, that I had never "made it" -- never written a play which went to Broadway, etc. She responded in complete shock, "Is that what you wanted? Very few people can do that." It's not the sweet assurance that I wasn't alone in my lack of achievement, but the disbelief that so disheartened me. I had been writing, acting and going to see plays and operas my whole life. Yet, I wasn't expected to have wanted to attain conventional success in the field I spent most of my time working in, at all. What did she think I was doing in those summer acting classes? What was I dreaming about? Was I expected to languish in precocity my entire life? My uncle, I learned about a year earlier, hadn't really given any thought to what I would become -- this despite his being the cheering section at several debates I lead in elementary school and the catalyst for my attending Stuyvesant High School. He said to me, "I had no idea...You were a girl...I thought you would get married." I went to college in the 80's and my uncle is a dentist, my mother a semester away from college graduaton and my father (though absent from my life) was a CPA. My mother insisted in a way I came to see more as pragmatic and faithless, that I could always live at home and she could support me. I'd gone to top schools which had made me a shrewd student, but for all my decent grades, no one really thought they had proof I was going to "be anything." What I had thought was a track record of success was meaningless to those around me. Fortunately, I had been competitive academically my whole life so I had developed useful skills and ideas and even strategies for survival. I had assumed, too, that I probably wouldn't live as an artist and took a teaching job fairly soon after graduation. Until this June, I still worked in the theater as a dramaturg, but it's harder to bifurcate my energies between two worlds and I need to harness them for the job that pays the bills. Acting and directing did help me as a teacher, and I haven't stopped looking at things as an artist. I encourage my students to do the same, but I hold them to real standards. I've found there are a lot of good, young artists out there and not enough good training or work. At least, however, an artist should know if he/she is really as effective as he/she can be. So they know that they had the chance to make use of what luck, hard work and time did offer.
In giving public school students weak assessments, we are denying them their dreams and their parents know this. Parents, I think, have become complicit in extending their children's agonies/adolescence because they don't want to seem like they are limiting their exploration. Inherently, however, their dooming them to floundering, rather than finding their niche. The testing movement is a defensive reaction, not a proactive step toward giving students real skills and choices. It's like saying, "Well, for non-students, they're pretty good." The only ones not in on the game are the kids. And they're not reading the commentary in the local tabloids because it's not there -- our major newspapers don't use higher than 8th grade vocabulary, so it might be possible that some of them would understand it. My students who do see postings about the ease of the NY State exams get infuriated. We ought to ask them what they think should be done. They wouldn't mince words.
Now, I have nothing against parents or their adult children who live with them. My question is, though: Did they really give Zeno the green light to go after his dream or to fail at it? And I believe our public schools are complicit in this regard.
In NYC, parents of public school children are given plenty of reasons to feel content with their children's development. Every year, their children are "tested" to see if they can advance to the next grade. The fact that the NY State exams have been proven invalid as markers for appropriate academic achievement by the results of the NEAP exams is not at the forefront of our media. For 18 million dollars, Mike Bloomberg has launched a campaign that makes "I Like Ike" look like it was the slogan for a student-body president. He isn't lying in the sense that these children did pass an exam. That the exam was beneath the students to whom it was given doesn't matter. After all, he could argue, do you ask the average third grade ballet student to be held to the rigor of the American Ballet Theater school? But, if we don't, then how will this young person really know if he/she is on the path to his/her dream? How will young Marie know her math skills are where they need to be if she is to develop into a scientist? How will her parents know?
You're probably thinking Marie and Zeno's parents are happy enough that they enjoy something in life and have some proficiency in it. They know, right, that the odds are good their kids are going to work a job they hate because they're going to have to "do what they gotta do" to survive?
While it may be true that most people don't go on to make a living at what they want to do, that's no reason to destroy their true opportunities from the onset. Worse, it's leaving most of our students with a proficiency which wouldn't even let them follow the field in popular literature or as amateur enthusiasts. Zeno will get all he needs to know about basketball from watching TV, you think? What if he can't understand the best commentators on the sport. I heard a cashier at a local supermarket talk about how she can't stand listening to legendary broadcaster Tim McCarver because "he knows nothing." When I pressed her for an example, she said that he "just goes on and on and nobody understands him." That's like saying that Keith Olbermann has no sense of irony. So, if Zeno's language skills are low, he may miss a lot of information and perspective which would help him to understand the game, how it's reported and how it advances.
When I was a kid, I was given the sense that the world was open to me. When I went on to high school, I was given even more of a sense that I might be a leader within it. In college, I floundered --not academically-- but somewhat artistically. My critical skills were always strong, but I didn't know nearly as much about how plays are actually put on as I thought. And I didn't integrate well into a performing ensemble because I was extremely defensive. Nevertheless, I got excellent grades in my major of Theater and no one ever sat me down to talk about the pragmatics of my entering the field. I went to an esteemed school and my degree was not an artistic one, but one in liberal arts. In other words, for a non-artist, I had done well. But, no one explained this to me, then. I learned this when I went on to get an MFA--a degree designed to test my abilities as a theatrical artist. I learned about what BA programs were and weren't designed to do, and I faced the fact that I could teach, write about or work in a quasi-academic role assisting a director, but that my temperament in itself was going to make it hard for me to direct or act, whether or not I had real talent. Had I been assessed this way in college, I'd probably have changed the strategies I used to plan my studies and my future. I'd've known that I needed to head to a Ph.D. program and I'd've thought of myself as a historian/scholar. Thankfully, my schooling did give me advantages I could have and could still use to pursue that aspect of the field.
My mother and I had a few exchanges in which I assured her I could become a teacher if theater didn't work out. When she asked me, about two years ago, why I felt unsatisfied with my achievements, I pointed out among other things, that I had never "made it" -- never written a play which went to Broadway, etc. She responded in complete shock, "Is that what you wanted? Very few people can do that." It's not the sweet assurance that I wasn't alone in my lack of achievement, but the disbelief that so disheartened me. I had been writing, acting and going to see plays and operas my whole life. Yet, I wasn't expected to have wanted to attain conventional success in the field I spent most of my time working in, at all. What did she think I was doing in those summer acting classes? What was I dreaming about? Was I expected to languish in precocity my entire life? My uncle, I learned about a year earlier, hadn't really given any thought to what I would become -- this despite his being the cheering section at several debates I lead in elementary school and the catalyst for my attending Stuyvesant High School. He said to me, "I had no idea...You were a girl...I thought you would get married." I went to college in the 80's and my uncle is a dentist, my mother a semester away from college graduaton and my father (though absent from my life) was a CPA. My mother insisted in a way I came to see more as pragmatic and faithless, that I could always live at home and she could support me. I'd gone to top schools which had made me a shrewd student, but for all my decent grades, no one really thought they had proof I was going to "be anything." What I had thought was a track record of success was meaningless to those around me. Fortunately, I had been competitive academically my whole life so I had developed useful skills and ideas and even strategies for survival. I had assumed, too, that I probably wouldn't live as an artist and took a teaching job fairly soon after graduation. Until this June, I still worked in the theater as a dramaturg, but it's harder to bifurcate my energies between two worlds and I need to harness them for the job that pays the bills. Acting and directing did help me as a teacher, and I haven't stopped looking at things as an artist. I encourage my students to do the same, but I hold them to real standards. I've found there are a lot of good, young artists out there and not enough good training or work. At least, however, an artist should know if he/she is really as effective as he/she can be. So they know that they had the chance to make use of what luck, hard work and time did offer.
In giving public school students weak assessments, we are denying them their dreams and their parents know this. Parents, I think, have become complicit in extending their children's agonies/adolescence because they don't want to seem like they are limiting their exploration. Inherently, however, their dooming them to floundering, rather than finding their niche. The testing movement is a defensive reaction, not a proactive step toward giving students real skills and choices. It's like saying, "Well, for non-students, they're pretty good." The only ones not in on the game are the kids. And they're not reading the commentary in the local tabloids because it's not there -- our major newspapers don't use higher than 8th grade vocabulary, so it might be possible that some of them would understand it. My students who do see postings about the ease of the NY State exams get infuriated. We ought to ask them what they think should be done. They wouldn't mince words.
03 May, 2009
Klein: Low cost incompetency? Great deal!
In the middle of discussions which aim at firing the certified, qualified and highly experienced teachers left without jobs after their schools closed, Klein goes to Albany TO BEG TO HIRE/RETAIN 14,000 teachers who had failed basic competency tests? So, basically, he's given principals the ok to hire cheap, possibly TRULY incompetent teachers instead of paying for certified educators who have tried and true records.
Why doesn't the public know this? So, you're kids are being taught by someone who can't pass qualifying tests rather than someone who can do that and more all because the former is cheaper? We need one of those bank commercials: A snickers bar, 75 cents. A good education: Priceless.
I found this at http://nyceducator.com/2009/04/ms-weingarten-takes-firm-stand.html
Why doesn't the public know this? So, you're kids are being taught by someone who can't pass qualifying tests rather than someone who can do that and more all because the former is cheaper? We need one of those bank commercials: A snickers bar, 75 cents. A good education: Priceless.
I found this at http://nyceducator.com/2009/04/ms-weingarten-takes-firm-stand.html
01 April, 2009
Honesty
I was given the AP class in my school to teach while the teacher who normally teaches it is ill.
I feel guilty. Yes, I asked to cover the class -- the teacher's entire schedule about a week ago. I didn't do it with the idea in my head of whether I deserved it or not. I just did it because I wanted to do it. I didn't get the rest of the schedule, but I got the AP Class. I sort of get why -- I never got the Ramp-Up training so maybe I don't know enough to lead a class in it. I've taught AP English before, though not with a class as good as this one. I was mediocre at it. I'd've been better had my students done homework.
However, I feel like the senior teachers should be teaching AP English and I shouldn't be. I don't know why I care, or why it bothers me when I have a shopping cart full of books waiting to "Proceed to Checkout" which I want to buy to help me with the class and I'm up now to work on my lessons. It's not that I don't like teaching it. I do. Clearly, I do. I'm spouting off as much as I can remember ever learning and I'm thinking about reading Oedipus Rex aloud in my passable Greek.
It's wrong, though. Much as my outburst last week was wrong. I don't have the right to outrage or preferences. These people have been here for twenty years. I'm just part of the Occupation.
It's not just politically correct politics. It feels god-awful.
So, I'm going to send an email to my chair and the principal expressing the wish that a senior faculty member take the class and I'm going to talk to my union rep as well. My colleagues are all teaching this hideous Ramp-Up curriculum and it's killing them. Plus, they've earned this in this place and I haven't. I believe that.
I don't even mind if my colleagues feel schadenfreud if one of them takes the class away from me. They deserve to feel it. I am feeling self-conscious and miserable in too many ways. Plus, I know I can teach this class some other time in some other place. This isn't my school. It never will be. Even though I also have a Tilden baseball cap in one of my many "Wish Lists" on-line. For me that's fashion, whereas for the other folks at this school it's history.
The trouble is, I don't know if my saying anything will do anything positive, but I'll try. No one at my school reads this blog so they'll never know what I felt. That's okay, too. I write this as one of many ATR's and teachers-who-also-write-and-do-art-in-their-other-lives.
I feel guilty. Yes, I asked to cover the class -- the teacher's entire schedule about a week ago. I didn't do it with the idea in my head of whether I deserved it or not. I just did it because I wanted to do it. I didn't get the rest of the schedule, but I got the AP Class. I sort of get why -- I never got the Ramp-Up training so maybe I don't know enough to lead a class in it. I've taught AP English before, though not with a class as good as this one. I was mediocre at it. I'd've been better had my students done homework.
However, I feel like the senior teachers should be teaching AP English and I shouldn't be. I don't know why I care, or why it bothers me when I have a shopping cart full of books waiting to "Proceed to Checkout" which I want to buy to help me with the class and I'm up now to work on my lessons. It's not that I don't like teaching it. I do. Clearly, I do. I'm spouting off as much as I can remember ever learning and I'm thinking about reading Oedipus Rex aloud in my passable Greek.
It's wrong, though. Much as my outburst last week was wrong. I don't have the right to outrage or preferences. These people have been here for twenty years. I'm just part of the Occupation.
It's not just politically correct politics. It feels god-awful.
So, I'm going to send an email to my chair and the principal expressing the wish that a senior faculty member take the class and I'm going to talk to my union rep as well. My colleagues are all teaching this hideous Ramp-Up curriculum and it's killing them. Plus, they've earned this in this place and I haven't. I believe that.
I don't even mind if my colleagues feel schadenfreud if one of them takes the class away from me. They deserve to feel it. I am feeling self-conscious and miserable in too many ways. Plus, I know I can teach this class some other time in some other place. This isn't my school. It never will be. Even though I also have a Tilden baseball cap in one of my many "Wish Lists" on-line. For me that's fashion, whereas for the other folks at this school it's history.
The trouble is, I don't know if my saying anything will do anything positive, but I'll try. No one at my school reads this blog so they'll never know what I felt. That's okay, too. I write this as one of many ATR's and teachers-who-also-write-and-do-art-in-their-other-lives.
31 March, 2009
When the war is over, someone buy me new toys
There is no doubt Bloomberg and Klein are fighting a war against teachers. You need look no further than the insanity of my weekly experience. Perhaps the most hilarious moment yet was our professional development on Monday. We were introduced to "Mimio" technology, which is all well in good if we weren't working in a school with a shrinking budget about to be closed. And, the curriculum we are mandated to use in English and Social Studies specfically forbids the use of streaming video and the internet which makes the use of Mimio no more than a blackboard trick, certainly not one worth over 500 dollars to start.
Why keep teachers in a professional development in which you teach them about a technology they can't use and you can't afford to buy anyway? To frustrate them and make them feel obsolete, that's why.
How much did it cost for the demonstration? One of the teachers who attended a workshop for this product was given a t-shirt by the saleslady. Couldn't we, at least, have all had t-shirts? How about backpacks for the students with the logo? No?
Why keep teachers in a professional development in which you teach them about a technology they can't use and you can't afford to buy anyway? To frustrate them and make them feel obsolete, that's why.
How much did it cost for the demonstration? One of the teachers who attended a workshop for this product was given a t-shirt by the saleslady. Couldn't we, at least, have all had t-shirts? How about backpacks for the students with the logo? No?
30 March, 2009
Can you hear me? No, I mean, really.
A few days ago I called a parent about her son's lack of focus. I knew her son was deaf, but since he gets to work with a hearing teacher twice a week, I thought his services were in order. Plus, as I am continually reminded, I am the NON-SPECIAL-ED LICENCE-HOLDING person in the room. In the early part of my conversation with the parent, which spanned all three main floors of the building, the mother asks, "Is he wearing his earpiece?" "What earpiece?" "His teachers are supposed to wear this halo which is connected directly to his earpiece." This would've sounded very odd except that as a college counselor I went to conferences were I learned about all the fantastic devices out there to make college possible despite disability, one of these being a device which the teacher wears which does look kind of like a halo around your head and connects back to an earpiece and microphone on the student. I walk my phone over to special ed deptand ask the question about this. "I've got to find it," remarks the woman temporarily in charge of the dept while our chair nurses her newborn. My suspicion is it was lost long before her temporary tenure began. She tells me go down to the principal and ask. I take my cell phone, parent on the other end down to the principal's office. No, he won't just come on the cell phone. She has to call and see if her call is worthy with the principal's secretary first. I tell him what it's about and that the parent is more than concerned. He says she should call the Guidance Counselor for Special Education who is not in that day and with whom I have not had a lot of excellent experience. I find it laughable that he called me on being "not in compliance" when I took a few special ed students out of our classroom to work with separately because they were faster and more rambunctious than the other half of the class. Did he know that WE WERE ALL not in compliances as far as this young man's hearing headgear? I mean, basically, he's deaf as a post. And he sits through the same class he has with us in the period before he works with us -- so he is inundated with aural blur of the same kind for 100 minutes. We wonder why he goes to sleep?
My colleague in the class with the Special-Ed license says that she hasn't ever worked with this device on this young man and she has taught him for most of this year. No one told her a thing about it. That it was once, then that it was lost, etc. As she is meticulous, I believe her. In fact, from the conversation in the special ed office it seems that it was assumed the student would just go without this earpiece and they saw no reason to mention it.
But, I wasn't in compliance working with this kid one - to - four at one table where he could definitely hear me. I am sure that he hears my colleague and much of what goes on in her class because she is clear, but he has other classes which are chaotic and large and not so artfully run. He has often brought up points from the book we are reading which he says he has heard in his other class -- the very same English class taught by another teacher with three times as many students. The points don't seem familiar and I suspect he has half-heard them.
My colleague in the class with the Special-Ed license says that she hasn't ever worked with this device on this young man and she has taught him for most of this year. No one told her a thing about it. That it was once, then that it was lost, etc. As she is meticulous, I believe her. In fact, from the conversation in the special ed office it seems that it was assumed the student would just go without this earpiece and they saw no reason to mention it.
But, I wasn't in compliance working with this kid one - to - four at one table where he could definitely hear me. I am sure that he hears my colleague and much of what goes on in her class because she is clear, but he has other classes which are chaotic and large and not so artfully run. He has often brought up points from the book we are reading which he says he has heard in his other class -- the very same English class taught by another teacher with three times as many students. The points don't seem familiar and I suspect he has half-heard them.
22 March, 2009
Curriculum Guide
Since I've become an ATR, I've become even less politically astute than before. Didn't think it was possible.
We had a meeting regarding the new curriculum we are using this term. Well, technically it's not really knew as it was used on these same kids when they were in 9th grade. But, new curriculum guides were purchased and even new copies of the same banal book the kids read years ago. There ARE some books worth re-reading at different points in your educational life. Usually, books designed specifically to meet the needs of a particular grade level -- in this case, middle school -- are not one of them. The students don't read at HS level, by and large, but assigning them a book geared to JHS kids was not a good idea. The themes are beneath them and don't merit revisiting. What they needed was something geared to HS kids written at a lower reading level. Or, they needed a book worth reading twice, which is not this book.
During our meeting about this curriculum, I found myself talking. That alone was a mistake. I know that I should keep my mouth shut, but for whatever reason, I needed to pretend to be empowered. When you are an ATR, I think, you want to do as much as possible and to try to connect with the center of the school. What you don't realize is how rotten things are at core and what influences whom because you're new to an already tainted environment and you're not given enough stake in it to get into the kinds of political battles which help you to learn what's worth fighting for. The lessons which go with this book are very amorphous and I've held back from completely suggeting a new structure with accompanying handouts. I said enough, however, to get the administration to use me to create items to make themselves look good -- rubrics for grading. As if there was really material here from which to differentiate.... However, my skills in education b.s. exceed theirs because I am good at creating meaning in activities and evaluations in and of themselves. Part of this comes from watching a colleague design rubrics for grading English essays which were harder than the English Regents, but used the same basic formula. Part of this comes from living in a world in which what the students do in the lesson is the meat of the lesson. It's been years since I've ever seen teachers asked to actually SAY what they are working on without an accompanying action. The phrase, "speak it into existence" has never been so wrongly used. It's not the teachers' fault and its probably not the administrators' fault either. We are all forced to make use of a product.
Indeed, at one point, one person referred to the "decisions" of "America's Choice," the for-profit organization who designed our curriculum. I thought, "that's the name of a company. They're not Harvard, for god's sake. What gives them academic credibility? Next you'll be selling me a curriculum by Fisher Price and speaking of them as if they were run by descendants of Moses."
My biggest mistake, however, was offering to create the enabling materials to make this business look less half-baked than it is. I don't want to seem like I am betraying my colleagues in doing this and I won't do it again, I think. The problem is that we are going to have bigger and bigger problems trying to engage students with this material as it only gets more amorphous and unbound to form as it continues. There's no build of skills upon the other -- there's a reference to a collection of habits students are supposed to develop. I've found that good habits need to be taught thoroughly and sometimes in stages. You can't just say you're teaching them even if you model them. Students need to know, "How." I'll give you an example of the kind of absurdist practice my colleagues and I are forced to perform.
One element of this curriculum is the use of "Sticky Notes," to mark important passages in a book. As a fan of the pen, highlighter and bookmark, I've never actually employed a Post-It to this end. When the students were told to do just that next to an image which they could envision, they were baffled.
First, where to put it: above, below, adjacent? Next: Do I really see what the author says or do I just kind of? If the latter, well does it get a note? Third: Should I put the page number on the note in case it falls out? Wouldn't it just be easier to mark it in my notes?
Since most students don't get the same book again to work with, they might never see this Sticky Note again. Even if they do, they were so busy trying to figure out the logistics that they fell behind in the text which was being read aloud by the teacher. So, they became even more frustrated.
I suggested that the students put their notes on a separate sheet of paper with spaces for each note, page number and, is turns out as I draft it, circling whether it's a description of a place, character or feeling. I didn't get into whether the student can fully visualize the image or not. When I read, I don't necessarily see things immediately, but the overall feeling of the language reaches me. Then, in discussion or re-reading, I see it more fully. Let's not forget that a lot of writing lends itself to synasthaesia. Too bad we're not reading Rememberance of Things Past.
So I found myself defining a real skill and method to cover for an unfinished idea. Students should take note of extensive descriptions as usually they are in place for a reason. I'm not sure that they don't do this already, but they don't generally take notes. The problem is, that in order to distinguish between what's worth noting or not, you have to understand its connection to the plot and themes as a whole. Probably, I'll have to put that in the worksheet. Now, I don't want students not to see things outside of the larger themes -- or necessarily think these are the only themes. Ideally, people would underscore what moves them. However, you usually aren't moved by abstraction that is not connected to something you seek. Since the book isn't really the sort that touches upon universal yearnings, it's good to get them to define what ideas it does have....inasmuch as it does.
Now, the final rub is it will take a long time to do this exercise if I create it right --- and we have been criticized for going over the appointed time for the curriculum. This was explained in this meeting as not meant to limit how much time we take, but that we should make sure that "teaching and learning is taking place" if we do go over. There's concrete for you. Not.
Next time, best to bring and eat cookies.
We had a meeting regarding the new curriculum we are using this term. Well, technically it's not really knew as it was used on these same kids when they were in 9th grade. But, new curriculum guides were purchased and even new copies of the same banal book the kids read years ago. There ARE some books worth re-reading at different points in your educational life. Usually, books designed specifically to meet the needs of a particular grade level -- in this case, middle school -- are not one of them. The students don't read at HS level, by and large, but assigning them a book geared to JHS kids was not a good idea. The themes are beneath them and don't merit revisiting. What they needed was something geared to HS kids written at a lower reading level. Or, they needed a book worth reading twice, which is not this book.
During our meeting about this curriculum, I found myself talking. That alone was a mistake. I know that I should keep my mouth shut, but for whatever reason, I needed to pretend to be empowered. When you are an ATR, I think, you want to do as much as possible and to try to connect with the center of the school. What you don't realize is how rotten things are at core and what influences whom because you're new to an already tainted environment and you're not given enough stake in it to get into the kinds of political battles which help you to learn what's worth fighting for. The lessons which go with this book are very amorphous and I've held back from completely suggeting a new structure with accompanying handouts. I said enough, however, to get the administration to use me to create items to make themselves look good -- rubrics for grading. As if there was really material here from which to differentiate.... However, my skills in education b.s. exceed theirs because I am good at creating meaning in activities and evaluations in and of themselves. Part of this comes from watching a colleague design rubrics for grading English essays which were harder than the English Regents, but used the same basic formula. Part of this comes from living in a world in which what the students do in the lesson is the meat of the lesson. It's been years since I've ever seen teachers asked to actually SAY what they are working on without an accompanying action. The phrase, "speak it into existence" has never been so wrongly used. It's not the teachers' fault and its probably not the administrators' fault either. We are all forced to make use of a product.
Indeed, at one point, one person referred to the "decisions" of "America's Choice," the for-profit organization who designed our curriculum. I thought, "that's the name of a company. They're not Harvard, for god's sake. What gives them academic credibility? Next you'll be selling me a curriculum by Fisher Price and speaking of them as if they were run by descendants of Moses."
My biggest mistake, however, was offering to create the enabling materials to make this business look less half-baked than it is. I don't want to seem like I am betraying my colleagues in doing this and I won't do it again, I think. The problem is that we are going to have bigger and bigger problems trying to engage students with this material as it only gets more amorphous and unbound to form as it continues. There's no build of skills upon the other -- there's a reference to a collection of habits students are supposed to develop. I've found that good habits need to be taught thoroughly and sometimes in stages. You can't just say you're teaching them even if you model them. Students need to know, "How." I'll give you an example of the kind of absurdist practice my colleagues and I are forced to perform.
One element of this curriculum is the use of "Sticky Notes," to mark important passages in a book. As a fan of the pen, highlighter and bookmark, I've never actually employed a Post-It to this end. When the students were told to do just that next to an image which they could envision, they were baffled.
First, where to put it: above, below, adjacent? Next: Do I really see what the author says or do I just kind of? If the latter, well does it get a note? Third: Should I put the page number on the note in case it falls out? Wouldn't it just be easier to mark it in my notes?
Since most students don't get the same book again to work with, they might never see this Sticky Note again. Even if they do, they were so busy trying to figure out the logistics that they fell behind in the text which was being read aloud by the teacher. So, they became even more frustrated.
I suggested that the students put their notes on a separate sheet of paper with spaces for each note, page number and, is turns out as I draft it, circling whether it's a description of a place, character or feeling. I didn't get into whether the student can fully visualize the image or not. When I read, I don't necessarily see things immediately, but the overall feeling of the language reaches me. Then, in discussion or re-reading, I see it more fully. Let's not forget that a lot of writing lends itself to synasthaesia. Too bad we're not reading Rememberance of Things Past.
So I found myself defining a real skill and method to cover for an unfinished idea. Students should take note of extensive descriptions as usually they are in place for a reason. I'm not sure that they don't do this already, but they don't generally take notes. The problem is, that in order to distinguish between what's worth noting or not, you have to understand its connection to the plot and themes as a whole. Probably, I'll have to put that in the worksheet. Now, I don't want students not to see things outside of the larger themes -- or necessarily think these are the only themes. Ideally, people would underscore what moves them. However, you usually aren't moved by abstraction that is not connected to something you seek. Since the book isn't really the sort that touches upon universal yearnings, it's good to get them to define what ideas it does have....inasmuch as it does.
Now, the final rub is it will take a long time to do this exercise if I create it right --- and we have been criticized for going over the appointed time for the curriculum. This was explained in this meeting as not meant to limit how much time we take, but that we should make sure that "teaching and learning is taking place" if we do go over. There's concrete for you. Not.
Next time, best to bring and eat cookies.
10 March, 2009
The Jupiter Symphony
An astrologer friend told me that the past few days have been my "Jupiter Time" -- which is supposed to indicate good fortune, at the very least in friendships, I think. I was skeptical and things came late, but for the first time in years, I have finally got a collegial bond with members of the department in which I work. Some of it is shared perspectives on the new curriculum we teach, but a lot of it is very sweet, mutual respect. I'm especially lucky because I wouldn't have earned this by a long shot, but by accident of fate I ended up working with a small group of really good veteran teachers. BCNHS was a collective of such folks, but it's been a while since we were a unified group and, once it was announced that we were closing, people were sent to different schools on very short notice and our department dwindled to just one or two. Of course, my colleagues are experiencing THAT feeling -- the feeling of tremendous loss of a host of old friends. I'm in the unique position in which making a new friend makes some sense, although I still feel like a refugee from BCNHS. I don't feel like I work at Tilden, still, but I do work with these colleagues and I do understand a little more of the politics which they face. You see, we Aspies can be empathetic, we just are so through our brains and then our central nervous systems.
Anyway, it's just faintly glorious to have people whom I respect and am friendly with at work again.
Anyway, it's just faintly glorious to have people whom I respect and am friendly with at work again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)