Monday, July 8, 2013

Thoughts on Common Core

I've been doing quite a bit of summer reading, as I'm sure that all of you have. I recently came across this article: NFL Adopts Common Core Playbook - Copying Education Reforms by John J. Viall. It's a good satirical look at the thinking process behind the Common Core. Mr. Viall's criticisms are interesting, and I agree with much of the content, however, I think that he's missing a key point...

In February, I was in Washington D.C. for the Kennedy Center's annual Partners in Education conference. During a lunch meeting I heard a presentation by a member of the Common Core's creation team, a woman from Colorado whose name escapes me. I had gotten to the luncheon late and ended up at a table away from my fellows. By happenstance, the only available seat was one at a table with a contingent from Colorado - the very school that this woman was from. Prior to her speech she was discussing the Common Core with her table mates. Again, by luck, I was sitting there quietly looking at my salad and deciding if I wanted to eat the weeds or not. What I overheard, was the following:

ELA instructional shifts -

  1. Informational texts will be 50% of the common core. There is a push to put History and Science back at the lower levels. 
  2. Deep reading of a text. (what needs to be defined here is "What are considered texts?")  
  3. Increased value of "domain language". More content vocabulary.
  4. Speaking and Listening. 
  5. Emphasis on "Academic Language." compare, contrast, analyze... 

Math Shifts -

  1. Automatically function; can they recall math facts at speed? 
  2. Think logically - mathematically. Creative process + logic
There were a couple more math shifts, but the waitress invited me to take some coffee and desert and I stopped paying attention at that point to peruse the menu for which pie I wanted... 

These were the highlights of the conversation that I was privy to, though. My fears about the Common Core were quelled quite a bit just listening to these educators table talk. My understanding is that these Common Core Standards are to be more general so that teachers can function according to their own teaching styles within them. 


For example: There are nine National Standards for Music Education. (The standards are really broad. "Read and Notate Music." There are several ways to notate; lead sheets, changes, common notation, symbol...) Each state has based their State Standards on the National Standards. I have never felt pigeon-holed by my standards as a music educator. I use content vocabulary. I have students read informational texts (music) regularly. I teach with domain language (which is inert to music; have someone play/sing forte or piano) In many ways, my colleagues and I are already doing this.

This is the point that I think Mr. Viall is missing. In his satire, he suggests that all of the coaches will use the same playbook. In a way - they do. Every coach has a cadre of running plays and passing plays. Every coach has the goal line formation and special teams plays. Every coach has Punt, Punt Block, and Punt Fake plays. Sure, they may have a quarterback or running back as a place holder for the fake, but it's essentially the same play. The end is accomplished by a uniform means. Different men on the field, different operations, different institutions, but the same play.

There will be different outcomes, of course. Mr. Viall is right about that. I think he was pointedly stating that you can give students equal access to everything and still have varied outcomes. That's true. There is no dispute.

Also, it is true that the coaches need to play to the strengths of their players. In schools though, this translates differently. I was not a strong student in math. That doesn't mean that I didn't need to take math classes. When I coached soccer I placed kids in positions based on their skills, but I still took time to train all players in the basic skills. Every player learned how to shoot, pass, dribble, and chip because those pieces are fundamental to playing the game.

And I think that is where we are right now. Everyone is trying to define what "pieces" are fundamental for success. Education has become the battleground. Politicians treat it as both disease and cure. The thinking is that the Common Core blue print will be everything that a student needs to know to be successful in the 21st Century. The reality is that we don't know what they are going to need. We don't know what jobs will be available in 20 years. Will robots be welding in manufacturing jobs? Will we need to teach that? Will periodic elemental atomic structures be enough for Chemistry class, or do we need to teach them down to the God particle?

My thinking is that our tax money would be better spent developing learning communities for educators to advance best practice among themselves and their colleagues instead of creating bureaucratic legislation for education.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Addressing Critics of PBL: Part 2

A few weeks ago I began a discussion addressing the common criticisms of PBL. Today I would like to continue that discussion...

Item E: "The student's aren't being assessed!" 

Indeed, this was a criticism from administration. I should give some context for this: Like most schools, our administrators change every three years or so. When one of them leaves, a new one comes in and we teachers find ourselves adjusting to new ideas and sometimes new methodology. Our venture into Project Based Learning was actually put together by a succession of a superintendent, and two principals. They stayed for about 5 years, but then left. The new administration was not adequately trained in PBL and found it challenging to embrace.

The assessment piece is particularly difficult for administrators because they cannot fit it onto a nice spreadsheet for state reporting. The solution will come in creating a numeric system that administrators can use on their spreadsheets, but that teachers can still use to assess "mastery". We are currently devising such a system and my friend and colleague Bobby Thompson has devoted a great deal of study and time to this. (Bobby's work is focused on a model produced by Dr. Robert Marzano.)

The reality is that the students are being assessed more than ever before. Assessment does not look like it did when we were in school. It's not a paper that comes back with a big red A on it and some other red marks. This form of assessment is one dimensional. It assesses student knowledge on one item at one time. Assessments in PBL look at several dimensions of the learning experience at once. Soft skills, Standards, Core Skills, Personal Growth; these are all measured broadly and at one time. These criticisms come back to students on Rubrics. The rubrics identify the learning standards and press students toward a maximization of their project by rewarding mastery level work. Sarah and I worked very hard on our rubrics to make them positive and also to prevent kids from task listing. Alas, rubrics are a whole other blog. If you'd like to read more about Sarah and I and our quest for the perfect rubric you can read my article entitled: "Rubrics Cube".

The bottom line is: Students are being assessed in several dimensions of learning at one time.

Item F: "The kids have too much freedom!" 

This took an adjustment for me too. Indeed, to walk into a PBL classroom can be scary for teachers that have spent all of their time organizing students into rows and working to keep them quiet and on-task. To see students in groups around the room, scattered, some working, some waiting, and some perhaps off-task - it can be daunting.

The big buzz word in education right now is "differentiation". A teacher teaching in a lecture is hoping to hit about 70% of the students. The very high level students (top 15%) and the very low level students (bottom %15) are stuck. The teacher delivers a single lecture for a single middle level group in the hopes that it hits home. This is not very efficient.

In PBL we differentiate in several ways. Assigning groups of various levels is one way. The type of tasks that a student completes, the projects themselves, and the products produced by the students are other ways of differentiating. In order for the teacher to produce these varied types of differentiation, the students must be able to work independently. Independence requires trust. A PBL teacher has to be wary of what students are doing, but still trust them to complete the task at hand. The students have to work together. This takes time. The teacher will have to give them time to accomplish the tasks that they are requesting the students to finish. It is a hard concept, but the reality is that the students will need time to accomplish what they are doing, thus it appears that they are unsupervised. Good PBL instructors are on their feet, though and work methodically through the room, motivating students and helping where they can.

If you should visit one of these classes, look at the students, yes, but watch the teacher. They have more control then you know.

Item G: "My kid has too much homework!" 

A favorite criticism of parents. Following up on this, I have discovered that most students have simply mis-managed their time. Kids are inefficient at best when it comes to time management (a problem that seems to get worse through college). On some occasions I've discovered students that had honest issues with homework overload. This was always due to some circumstance. Sarah and I, as well as others on my team, have always given extensions and assistance to those kids as needed. Most of those students self-advocated and came to us, explained their situations, and won their extensions. This is excellent practice for students that may need to lobby for extensions in college.

Usually, though, a student has wasted class time and has to make up the work at home. The parents see this, ask their kid what's going on, and the student blames the teachers. How could a student have so much homework in every class? The answer should be evident, but to many parents, it's not.

Item H: "This place is a mess!" 

Looking back to Item F should iron this out. Students should be DOING. And, when they are doing, the room is going to be a mess. I had trouble with this in the beginning. I'm a person that desires everything to be orderly and in it's place. The students have mocked me (playfully) because I reset the desks after every class period. I like order and logic. Yet I have to admit, I'm learning to enjoy seeing students make complete messes as they learn. The messier, the better.

Take my colleague, Michael Buck. Michael teaches Spanish. His students were doing a project that involved them creating a Spanish version of Mt. Rushmore. Who would the Spanish put on their Rushmore? The students had researched Spanish culture and revolutions and so forth, and had chosen their historical figures. They had written speeches, in Spanish, and were coming up with visual arts displays - not Power Points - actual art. During this time I dropped in to give Michael some paperwork and saw his room was a disaster of paint, card board, paper, tri-fold, yarn, magazine clippings, styrofoam... but the projects! The projects were fantastic! Students had carved and cut and weaved Spanish looking art. There were diorama, and paintings and statues... it was messy, but the creations were unbelievable. Michael invited me to come down and see some of the presentations and I did. I don't speak Spanish well, but I understood that the students were learning.

And that's what's important.  

Until next time...

Friday, June 21, 2013

Addressing Critics of PBL: Part 1

It's summertime. Time to reflect, refresh, and renew. Time to take account of your work. What worked? What didn't work? What should you maintain? What should you change? As I look back over my own academic year, I find myself contemplating the critics of my work and my class. I certainly had several discussions with parents, administrators, students, and even some of my colleagues.

I appreciate their criticism as it is important to examine constantly what we do as educators. I heard a minister refer once to the "sacred desk". In context, he was declaring that he had a holy obligation to tell the truth when he stood behind the pulpit, and he did not take that lightly. I agree, and I see that we as teachers also stand behind a sacred desk, if you will pardon the illustration. We have a sacred obligation to pass on to the next generation what we know, to the very best of our abilities, in the hope that they will move it forward.

So, let us examine this model. I have labeled here, a few criticisms common to PBL. I wish to address them in this post.

 Item A: "The teachers aren't teaching! The computer is doing the work!" 

First, the computer is a tool. The computer computes. Therefore, data must be applied to the computer before it can "do" anything. A teacher must present data to the students so they may apply it. The computer will return information, but you must ask it the right questions. Great PBL teachers lead students to the right questions and let them find the answers on their own. The discovery of these answers should drive more questions. As students get stronger in their thinking, they need less and less of the teacher's direction.

Item B: "The teacher won't answer my kid's question!" 

This seems to be the hardest shift for parents, students, and some teachers to make. It's really quite simple: Most of us came through an educational system that was based on Aristotle's model (Yes, Aristotle). I've heard this model referred to as "Drill n' Kill". Essentially, students memorize data through reading, and then regurgitate that data back on the test. Does it work? Yes, to a degree, but the learning is often low level and leaves students incapacitated when it comes to creating. Many students who come through this style think very logically, but they have trouble with synthesis and creation - the highest exhibition of mastery.

PBL works through the Socratic model (Yes, Socrates). Socratic academia demands that answers and questions be followed up with more questions. The learner defines both the question and the answer. The teacher guides the learner to the appropriate questions concerning mastery of the content that is given to us via the standard that we are examining or the problem that we are trying to solve.

A clever critic once told me, "Aristotle's model worked for you." and that is correct. I did come through a system like that. However, what that person fails to realize is that I also had various areas where I could make up what was lacking. Music was a place where improvisation was encouraged; creation was encouraged. I was often asked to create a solo through improvisation. Also, we were allowed to embellish certain songs. Sports were another area: In soccer, there are no set plays on the field. Strikers have to create avenues to the goal and higher order thinking was necessary. I played midfield and was often thinking, "How do I get these defenders moved so that my striker has a clear path to the goal?"

Someone might say, "We still have all of those opportunities! We still have Music and Sports!" To you I say: These opportunities belong to every child, in every classroom.

Item C: "My kid just needs [the core class]. He/She doesn't need [the integrated class]!" 

It was quite common to hear parents complain about this. Since Sarah taught English and I taught Music History and Music Theory, there were many parents that failed to see the value of the music portion of the class. Indeed, Sarah and I spent a lot of time defending what we were doing. The best defense came in showing parents that music is a language and that it exists, not only parallel to language, but as a language all its own. We weren't the only ones combating this, our Geometry and Introduction to Engineering and Design (IED) team had trouble too. "We just need Geometry." parents would say, "We don't need Engineering."

The great failure of Aristotle's system is that it compartmentalizes education. Classes are separate. Of course, the reality of knowledge is that it is interconnected. Disciplines interconnect. Ideas interconnect. Facts interconnect. The thing that made Leonardo Da Vinci a "Renaissance Man" was the fact that he was both an artist and a scientist. He was able to put it all together. Really, the greatest human beings put things together; they create. Peyton Manning creates touchdowns that win games. Albert Einstein created theorems and philosophies on the universe that we are still testing today. Michelangelo created works of art that inspire us to consider our humanity. Creation is stifled in a compartment. Our brand of PBL paired the "Art" with it's "Science" in hopes of helping the students easily see the connections. What do you do with Geometry? Design stuff. What do you do with Poetry? Set it to music.

This is very difficult for people to see, but it is the truth. Students will have to use all of their knowledge to be successful; Therefore any knowledge that they graduate with, will be useful at some point. "I never use Algebra!" a man told me once, but that man built houses. He was using algebraic calculations all the time, he was just too daft to realize it.  

Item D: "My kid's doing your job!" 

Indeed, the best way to learn something is to teach it. Having students lead workshops allows us to both assess whether the student truly understands the content or not, and allows the student to have a hand in the profession of teaching. Teaching something solidifies it in the mind. Having an experience leading your peers in a topic, speaking in front of the class, and dealing with questions can't hurt the student either. Some parents seem to think that we set kids up to speak and then go out for coffee. This is not the case. Teachers sit by assess the students that are both speaking and listening. In an ideal PBL classroom, the students will be exercising their knowledge and skills more than the teacher. The teacher should be helping kids that are behind, propelling the students that are ahead, and monitoring all students for retention.


Next week...

Item E: "The student's aren't being assessed!" 
Item F: "The kids have too much freedom!" 
Item G: "My kid has too much homework!" 
Item H: "This place is a mess!" 

Until then...




Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Importance of Arts Integration on Deep Learning

When I was a student at Butler University I had a psychology professor named Dr. Neil Bohannan. While Dr. Bohannon and I did not see eye to eye on many things, I readily admit that I learned quite a bit from the man. One of the phrases that struck me, and I recall it often (because I utilize it often), is "Learning = a change in behavior based upon acquired knowledge." This equation, if you will, suggests two things; first - in order to learn anything, one's behavior must change.  An example of this behavioral change might be: We studied the United States Constitution in History Class: I decided to vote, because I recognize voting as a right that is given through the Constitution. (Was it Mark Twain who said, "A man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over a man who can't read them."?)

The second tenet is that behavior will change based on the assimilation of acquired knowledge. The input is the knowledge, but the output will manifest learning through the exhibition of an assimilation. In essence, there must be prior knowledge that sets the original behavior. Synthesizing my first example: perhaps I understood voting, or voted prior to my study, but due to my study I will now vote a certain way. Perhaps I will join a political party? This is a behavioral action taken due to my increased knowledge utilizing my prior knowledge - thus - I learned.

Let me break this down into a simple - yet profound example, so it's easy to understand...

My daughter was 7 at the time. She and her mother were making cookies. I was drinking coffee and grading papers at the kitchen table. The ladies had melted chocolate in a pan on the stove top. My wife took the melted chocolate and turned to the sink to pour it into a mixing bowl. She told my daughter, "Don't touch anything." My daughter looked at the red hot coils on the stove top. I noticed her staring at them. Then she did something insane... she reached out and touched them. Now, my daughter - even at 7 - was a smart girl. For her to do something so inane was unfathomable, but she did it. I quickly grabbed the entire ice tray from the freezer and stuffed her hand in it while my wife called the pediatrician. "Why did you do that?" I asked her. "I don't know?" she answered, with tears in her eyes. 2nd degree burns. A beautiful coil singed on my little girl's hand. It's still there to this day.

Following the ordeal I thought about why my daughter would do something so ridiculous, and what my daughter learned. Obviously, she learned not to touch a hot stove. To a degree she learned how to treat burns. We had a follow up discussion on listening to mom and dad. She knew the stove was hot. She could feel the heat. She could see the red coils. Her mother had given her a verbal directive saying, "Don't touch anything." And yet KNOWING that, she still touched it... So the question becomes: WHY? Did she really know that the coil was hot? Surely, she did.  What does it mean to know something? Can you know something without experiencing it?

Let me give another example:

I know my sums in math. I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide - but I don't know how to utilize math, like the guy in that show Numb3rs. I can't function with math. I can't use it in my life to do much more than make sure the person making change at the cash register is correct. According to Dr. Bohannon's theory - in the purest sense - I did not really LEARN math in school. It does not affect my behavior and I have a limited knowledge from which to acquire utility where mathematics are concerned.

By contrast... I can write music. I can create music. I can manipulate music. I choose music to listen too based on my mood. I can communicate feelings and emotions with music. I can help other people appreciate, analyze, create, and synthesize music. I hear music in my head at all times. I dream about music. I think in song patterns and sound waves. I hear lyrics when I'm in certain situations. I can connect my own behaviors and the behaviors of others to songs. I can hear colors and see palettes in music. I type in rhythms. I walk with a beat that changes according to my motion. I am a marionette of the Muse. I have learned music. I live it. I breathe it. I think with it. I think about it. I love it.

See the difference?

Two things should come to your mind. The first is that I did not like mathematics, but I love music. The second is that mathematics and music have deep connections. Since math and music hold such deep connections, why did I not also develop a love for math? That's an excellent thought. The difference may lie in what I love most about music... A person does not have to understand music to create it.

It's true that music has a form and order to it. I can show that order in the chord structures. There are seven tones in a scale. Utilizing those tones we can build seven chords. Each of those chords can be manipulated into major, minor, half, and fully diminished chords. Also, the chords can be stacked with additional tones to create new chords. Additionally, music has functionality. Each chord works in an orbit around what we call the "tonic" or home-base chord. I did not learn any of this until I was in college, yet I was playing professional gigs through high school. Not fully understanding music did not hinder my creation of music, and my desire to perform it fueled my practice of it.

Because of this universal understanding in music - and, really, all of the arts - they become approachable, meaning students can see themselves utilizing the art. Not everyone acts well, but most people are comfortable acting. The confidence in their ability elicits practice, and the practice elicits better acting skills that can then become refined into even better skills. Because of this principle, the arts can be utilized to create learning experiences in your classroom. These experiences give us a measurement - place, time, sequence of events in order, that students can set their learning anchors on. The experiences will also add to the student's knowledge base. Once the knowledge base is assimilated, they will remember and adapt their behavior based on this newly acquired knowledge.

They will learn.

Do I have proof of this? Yes. Sarah and I have a student, let's call him John. John is completely unmotivated. John's parents have stated that John shouldn't have to do anything that he's uncomfortable with (including graduate, evidently?). I had all but given up on John, but during our Midsummer Night's Dream project, while we were reading through the play, Sarah and I decided to have the students get up and tableaux the scenes to help them understand what was going on. John did not read aloud, but he did participate in a scene or two. After that, I noticed that John was paying attention. When the project ended we had the students debrief, which is a norm for our classes. On the debrief John said, "I din't think midsummer d be cool, but we got to act it out. that was cool." (sic) Did John understand the content? Yes. Would he have understood it if he had not seen it? No. That much is very clear. When did John begin to become involved? During the tableaux. I can give you the date and the time. What will he retain from Midsummer10 years from now? We will see, but my moneys on the tableaux of Midsummer Night's Dream.

Dr. Bohannon was right. The question is: How do core-curriculum (traditional academic) classes utilize aesthetic experiences to create these learning anchors? I think the answer lies fully and completely in the curriculum that creates aesthetic experience: the Arts. Arts integration, by being approachable and creating experiences for learning, is the key.

Until next time.

Monday, May 13, 2013

PBL + Shakespeare = SWAG

Did you know that Shakespeare had swag before anyone else? According to my friend and colleague, Sarah Papin-Thomas, Shakespeare invented the word "swagger". He also invented "eyeball." Pretty cool, eh? What can you do with Shakespeare in a PBL classroom? Turns out, quite a bit... I cannot think of a more pronounced PROJECT than the creation of a play. The sets, research, character building, voice, tone, inflections, nuance... Music! Lights! Costumes! Putting on a play is a huge multi-faceted project.

Sarah and I had done Julius Caesar in years past, but we wanted to do something else this year. The Indiana Repertory Theater was putting on A Midsummer Night's Dream. We decided to do that instead. We converted our Caesar play materials and began to fit the rubric for Midsummer.

Theseus and Hippolyta in Chicago Dream
Entry event: We handed the students a playbill with the date that they would be doing their plays. Then we handed everyone a copy of "A Midsummer Night's Dream." We began the Know, Need-to-know, and Next Step process which lead us to read the play. We held a reading where students stood and acted out the parts while reading their lines. The acting part is important, because they must physically go through the scene to process what is going on. Since Shakespeare left out stage and prop directions, the students had to pull it out of the text. It's more tableaux than acting, but it works. Students begin to visualize what is happening in the context of the King James' English. The reading took us 3 days. (300 minutes of class time.) Anything that the students were unable to complete was given to them as homework - yes, we still assign it.

At the end of the 3 day reading session we took our students to see the play at the Indiana Repertory Theater, which was most accommodating for us, and the play was a great experience. Director, Peter Amster's vision was superb! The students found themselves completely enthralled with the play and came back to school the next day ready to dig in. (Thank you IRT!)

Stage 2: After seeing the play, the students took a fresh look at their entry event - the playbill. "We have to make a play, don't we?" They asked us. We just smiled. The students then asked the typical questions - "Is there a rubric?" "Who is on my team? How many are on a team?" and "Does it have to be in iambic pentameter?"

Concerning the language, Sarah and I decided that the students could put the play into modern day language. (I pause here to note that Shakespeare was writing in MODERN English. We are speaking something else. "American" I suppose? Or, at the very least, Post-Modern English. Beowulf is Old English. Chaucer is Middle English.) The reason that we decided that it was okay for the students to change the text was twofold; first, the students must create a one act play (7 to 15 minutes) script covering an important incident or event in Midsummer. Time is a factor, so they were allowed to utilize the language that they speak. The second reason that we agreed to let them convert the text is that students must comprehend what they read to translate it. Asking them to put the scene in their own words demonstrates that they understood what was happening in the scene. The words that they choose to utilize define their understanding and become a very quick and easy assessment for us.

Each student was also instructed to be creative. We asked them to put their mark on the play without ruining the heart of the play, much like the example that Peter Amster gave them at IRT.

Puck freezes the scene
Once each student had created a script, the students worked in small groups. Each group read the scripts that they had aloud. Then the groups voted on one to move on. The "winning" script was sent into a larger group - which was 2 or 3 groups combined. We repeated this process until we had 2 scripts in the class. Then we divided the room into 2 teams. We assigned the groups insuring that each group had a personality that could play each role. The "winning" script writers became the directors of the play associated with their script. Some titles for this year: "Romeo's Dream," a juxtaposition of Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night's Dream. "Time-travelling Puck," a play dealing with Oberon's instruction to Puck to fix his error. "Schitzophrenic Dream," a play where the dreamers wake up to find themselves in an asylum under the care of a doctor worried about their strange dreams. "Chicago Dream," where Egeus isn't just an angry father, he's a mobster. "Zombie Midsummer," a play where Pucks mischief creates a whole new problem...  

Team Meeting
Once the teams were established the students began the hard task of putting on a play. They struggled with rehearsals, lighting, sound, and costuming. Directors had to deal with whiny peers and people that didn't do their homework. Per usual, the students had to create original music to fulfill my music theory standards.  The students opened Finale and began scoring their music and matching it up with the blocking and stage choreography. Also, students were constantly writing and communicating with e-mails, texts, and hand-written notes. Sarah and I received notes, storyboards, scripts and all manor of artifacts from students during the process.

To aid them in staging, Sarah and I elicited the help of our colleague and friend, Tina Mahr. Tina holds a degree in Theater from Columbia University and specializes in working with kids. She flew out from California and taught workshops on make-up, projection, fake blood making, safe falling, stage blocking, stage combat, and the keys to being a good thespian. During this time, Sarah and I managed the classes and the hallways and put out any small fires that erupted between group members.

On Stage: Finally, the day came. We scheduled 2 shows per block and invited the entire campus - elementary, middle school, and high school. The crowds came and the plays were performed to the delight of thespians and audience alike.

As a debrief, Sarah and I asked the kids, "What did you learn?" Here are some of the things they told us...

A Mid-School Year Daydream
"I truly learned, and understand now, how artists can create things - inspired or alternative - versions of a  form of art." - C.H.

"I learned that you cannot get far in life if you cannot communicate well with others." - K.F.

"During this project I have learned how to be a leader." - T.H.

"I had no idea how much work needed to go into a play." - L.B.


Theater and Music Appreciation: Check. Reading and understanding a Shakespearean play: Check. Getting students to recognize the amount of work that real art takes: Check. Script writing, communication, music composition, set design and creation, costume design and creation, teamwork...

We felt like it was a success.

A toast during Chicago Dream



 



Thursday, April 25, 2013

Those "soft skills"... they matter!

Is it important that students are able to convey their thoughts with dialogue? Is it important that students manage their time well? Or their technology? Is etiquette important? Of course it is; soft skills matter. Being able to communicate appropriately with people matters. Knowing how to use your table service during a dinner party matters!

Our classrooms are petry dishes. They are places to grow hearts and minds. Some folks believe that testing can show growth, but there are too many things that tests cannot cover. To truly test students, you must know them. I'm not sure who came up with the idea of the "3 R's" (Rigor, Relevance, and Relationship) but the most important R - the one that supersedes the other R's - is RELATIONSHIP. If you don't have a good relationship with a student, you are not going to reach them.

How can you tell if you have a good relationship with the kids? I gauge that by what they are willing to ask me. If students ask you for help with menial tasks or things that they are embarrassed about asking others, then it's safe to say that you're in good standing with a kid. Most of these "menial tasks" are soft skills. At least twice a year I find myself helping a young gentleman tie a tie, or a bow tie. I'm telling them to button the top two buttons of their suit jacket, or leave their tux coat unbuttoned. Last week a kid asked me what he should wear for his job interview, and that led to a conversation prepping him for the questions that management might ask him during the interview.

What do tying bow ties and knowing which buttons to button on a suit coat matter? Because it may be the difference between getting the job and getting the "Thank you for your interest..." letter in the future.

Forgive the personal reference, but when I was in high school I was job hunting. I had received an application from a local bank and, early one Saturday morning, I was going to go turn it in. I was halfway down the stairs in our home when my mother said, "Young man! What are you doing?"
"Going to turn in this application." I replied.
"Not dressed like that, I hope." my mother chided.
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"You can't go to apply for a job like that! Put a suit on!"

Now, my mother could be VERY persuasive. I huffed and puffed over how stupid it was that I had to put on my dumb suit just to drive down the road and hand them an application, but I did it.

I got the job.

About a year later I was having a conversation with my supervisor about how I had come to work at the bank and she told me, "You know, we had actually closed the window for applications the day before. The only reason we accepted yours, was because you looked so nice in your suit."

I tell my students that story every year. They all laugh, but the point has been made. It's okay to take a few minutes to show them how to iron a shirt, or wear a pocket watch. Some of our students have never been told about things like deodorant, or proper amounts and application of perfume. Students need to know these basic skills.

Now, you may say, "That's not your job, that should be taught at home." and I concede that the home is the ideal place for students to learn such things, but they are not getting it at home. So, we come to a place of decision: Do you just teach your content and let students remain in their ignorance concerning everything else? Or are you teaching wholistically? Are you teaching students, not just about the Arts and Sciences, but how to be a human being? I afford them dignity, and I expect them to share that dignity with others.

Their music is not teaching them to be courteous or dignified. The political institutions are not teaching them to discuss and work out their issues. Many of them are not receiving instruction in the home, nor at their place of worship. Their recreational activities are not teaching them sportsmanship or priority. To the contrary, I have witnessed firsthand as a coach the ridiculous, callous, and foolish expressions of (poor) sportsmanship from parents that are trying to relive days-gone-by through their children. Many school Arts programs are no better. As a father, I can't hardly watch a high school dance review...

We have forgotten how to be gracious to one another. We have forgotten how to win graciously and lose with dignity.We have forgotten how to dress for dinner and wash our hands, and comb our hair. We have forgotten that some things are sacred. We have forgotten to look out for our neighbor. We have forgotten courtesy; and it seems to take unspeakable crimes, like the Boston Bombing, to pull us back into focus - to remember our humanity, and our frailty.

Teach the soft skills too. Model them. Stop your lecture for a minute to show them how to do something. Build them into your project. Demand them in the cafeteria and the hallways. Demand them on the field of sport. Demand them in the auditorium. Students must learn to turn off their cell phone. Students must know how to dress for the occasion. Students must learn the arts of both conversation and debate. Students must learn when to keep their opinions to themselves and when to express them and those are simple things that can be taught in your classroom and in your school.

Build a culture in your school that you would like to see out on the street, because that's where they're going to take it.




Wednesday, April 17, 2013

It's all about the process.

Life is about processes, systems, and algorithms. Do you have a process for your class?

Agenda during the MYTH project

My teaching partner and I have a pretty simple daily routine:

  • A "monologue" (We always write "Announcements") to kick things off.
  • Period of work.
  • Time of reflection and review. 

During the monologue we give the agenda for the day, identify our goals (the standards and objectives that we want the students to learn), and express little anecdotes that may be helpful for students. The work period is just that - time to work, ask questions, and generally get stuff done. The time of reflection at the end of the period is generally verbal, and occurs while the students are packing up to go to their next class. It takes about 5 minutes and we assess what happened during the class period. It is often unstructured. This review is simple, but usually very effective. St. Thomas Aquinas theorized that people learn best through interaction. There may indeed be something to this model, as the interaction during the reflection time seems to leave the most "learning anchors" in place. I would invite you to try this concept in your classroom and look for retention.

Our projects have a structure too. Think of a large arc, with little daily arcs inside creating the whole. 

We start each "Unit" or "Project" with an entry event, which introduces the students to the big idea. Our Nosce te Ipsum (Know Thyself) project has, what I consider to be the most genius entry event. We simply write the words, "Nosce te Ipsum" on the board and smile. The students always go right to the web. Before they have finished typing the first word into their Google search bar, they always say, "Who's So-CRATES?" Sarah and I always laugh and say, "It's pronounced, So-crat-es." Once students have completed their first exploration of the entry event we start chronicling their questions. 

"Knows" from the Nosce te Ipsum project.
We were trained by the New Tech Network to perform "Knows, Need-to-Knows, and Next Steps," but generally we feed right into Need-to-Knows after the entry event because the students begin asking questions right away and we don't want to hinder that. The trick is not to answer their questions up front, but inspire new questions. Sarah is much better at this waiting without answering - or answering a question with a question - than I am. Most of the time, the students answer their own questions. They get tired of waiting on us and they solve the problems themselves. This is exactly what we want - to create first responding problem solvers, not people who wait around to be spoon-fed answers!

After the entry event we go through a period of scaffolding. Scaffolding takes a week or two and is comprised of workshops that are built on student inquiry and teacher defined problems. For example, a student may ask, "How can I compose 3 minutes of orchestrated music for my screen play credits?" I would give a workshop on Orchestration. If my partner notices that students are having trouble organizing their thoughts and ideas, she may say, "I'm going to host a workshop on graphic organizers tomorrow." This process allows us to be sure and hit key standards, but it allows student voice and choice in their work as well. The students get the chance to be a part of their own education and most of them seize it.

After the period of scaffolding, there is a period of construction where students prepare for their presentations. Critics of PBL (Project-based Learning) often suggest that this is "down time" or "free days", but they couldn't be more wrong. The construction process is where most of the soft skills practice occurs. How do you deal with someone who doesn't pull their weight? How do you overcome technology pitfalls? How can I work with someone I've never spoken to before? How can we present this so that both of us have an equal share in the speaking roles? How do we plan together? How do we execute our joint vision? The word here is collaboration. Students learn more about themselves and what it takes to get things done - including time management - during this period, than any other time during the project. 

The final step in the process is the presentation. In science and math classes, students are often tackling a real-world problem that has ramifications beyond the classroom. Our class, though, is Literature and the Arts. We are simply creating works of art and studying the works of master artists before us. Our work is primarily aesthetic. I've found, though, that the students invest themselves more into our projects. The project becomes personal for them. It's meaningful because they have derived some meaning from it. Our presentations have been live stagings of plays, art walks, poetry slams, film screenings, speeches, and concerts. We have presented to large crowds at football games and small groups of administrative persons in the library. During this step the students gather feedback and get a chance to really shine. More importantly, though, they get to experiment. Very often I hear the phrase, "What did you think?" or "How did I do?". I don't recall ever asking my teachers how I did... it was a worksheet. I don't even recall reading the numbers at the top. So much for feedback, eh?

The process is important. We are teaching students more than just what to DO; we are teaching them how to THINK. And thinking is a process that starts with the inception of thoughts based upon associations assimilated by experience. Once this platform of ideas occurs our minds begin to synthesize what we already know and juxtapose that against what we do not know - our need-to-knows. This process defines our next steps, which should involve hypothesis and experimentation - ultimately leading us to the creation of new solutions. Students aren't going to find that on a worksheet. It is our job to create it for them. Set up the proverbial dominoes so your kids can knock them down, laugh, and re-build their own version. 

Until next week.