I’m at a conference, and I was talking to my friend and fellow teacher, Julie Sheerman from Marceline High School, about the literary cloze activity we did in class today.
In a semester, she does Literary Cloze early in the semester. For her, the best part of the activity is the fact that it always works—there is always a marked central tendency among the writing that the students do. Most interesting, and I think, important, is her observation that typically students who are more disengaged or resistant seem to do better than traditionally successful students. Julie thought the real lesson is getting a gut reaction from students. And, it’s something to help them shift their thinking about finding the THE answer. “Good” students have a harder time with it because they are inhibited. They have a hard time with the individuality of it.
I think this lesson is about building confidence. We all have an almost inherent, aesthetic response to a poem (and research show across ages). Oh, and Julie pointed out—that aesthetic response could be complete apathy—you might hate it, and that’s okay too. We didn’t talk about that today.
I was just thinking about this and had to share it with you. What do you think?
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Saturday, March 19, 2011
What the National Writing Project Means to Me
I'm always struck by the conversations. How powerful and simple. To sit at a table and talk about our teaching. How does this not happen more at our schools?
We sat in the Siceluff Hall library at Missouri State. I looked around the table on Tuesday night and wondered why conversations like this didn't happen more. Ten teachers sat around the table talking about their classrooms. We had written for ten minutes, and we started with the question, "What brought you here?" This simple question engaged everyone. We took turns sharing parts of our writing, which, in turn, led us to discuss our teaching and our classrooms.
Unfortunately, I don't think this is a common experience in schools. But in National Writing Project sites around the United States, these conversations are the norm. One young teacher, with so much to share, described how she rarely has the opportunity to share what she does in her classroom. And, when she does, no one listens: "I wish sometimes when I shared things it helped others." When I heard her say this, I thought, "You're in the right place." Why does writing project matter? It goes back to the National Writing Project model--teachers teach teachers, teachers write, and we all come into it knowing there is no one correct way to teach writing. We support our work with theory, research, and inquiry into our practices. These three simple "rules" guide us in our summer work and then guide us as we return to our classrooms.
Our work is proven. Administrators and legislators want data--cold, hard facts. We have the cold, hard facts that teachers who participate in National Writing Project professional development have higher test scores than teachers who have not participated in NWP. NWP teachers stay in the profession. NWP is an improvement model that develops teacher leaders. More important to people like me, we have stories. We know personally, emphatically, that the National Writing Project changed our lives. NWP taught me how to be a researcher. NWP teaches me how to write, share, and lead.
What brought me to this place? Books about the teaching of writing. Teachers. Students. Colleagues. It all started in my classroom, just hoping to do things better. To figure things out slowly. What has brought me here? Long drives to Columbia to learn more. Supportive colleagues. People that believe in the importance of teachers teaching teachers. People who see the power in writing. People who like to challenge each other. Amazing people have brought me here and taught me so much.
What has brought me here? Writing. Sharing writing. Talking about writing. Then writing some more.
What brought me here? A crazy goal--not even my goal. I saw a need as I sat in the Wyndham Hotel in Columbia, Missouri in August 2004. I raised my hand and said, "I want to start a writing project in southwest Missouri." I started my own breakout group and Melanie Burdick and Joyce Finch joined me. Why did they do that? They believed in teachers, too. And, that's how it began.
We sat in the Siceluff Hall library at Missouri State. I looked around the table on Tuesday night and wondered why conversations like this didn't happen more. Ten teachers sat around the table talking about their classrooms. We had written for ten minutes, and we started with the question, "What brought you here?" This simple question engaged everyone. We took turns sharing parts of our writing, which, in turn, led us to discuss our teaching and our classrooms.
Unfortunately, I don't think this is a common experience in schools. But in National Writing Project sites around the United States, these conversations are the norm. One young teacher, with so much to share, described how she rarely has the opportunity to share what she does in her classroom. And, when she does, no one listens: "I wish sometimes when I shared things it helped others." When I heard her say this, I thought, "You're in the right place." Why does writing project matter? It goes back to the National Writing Project model--teachers teach teachers, teachers write, and we all come into it knowing there is no one correct way to teach writing. We support our work with theory, research, and inquiry into our practices. These three simple "rules" guide us in our summer work and then guide us as we return to our classrooms.
Our work is proven. Administrators and legislators want data--cold, hard facts. We have the cold, hard facts that teachers who participate in National Writing Project professional development have higher test scores than teachers who have not participated in NWP. NWP teachers stay in the profession. NWP is an improvement model that develops teacher leaders. More important to people like me, we have stories. We know personally, emphatically, that the National Writing Project changed our lives. NWP taught me how to be a researcher. NWP teaches me how to write, share, and lead.
What brought me to this place? Books about the teaching of writing. Teachers. Students. Colleagues. It all started in my classroom, just hoping to do things better. To figure things out slowly. What has brought me here? Long drives to Columbia to learn more. Supportive colleagues. People that believe in the importance of teachers teaching teachers. People who see the power in writing. People who like to challenge each other. Amazing people have brought me here and taught me so much.
What has brought me here? Writing. Sharing writing. Talking about writing. Then writing some more.
What brought me here? A crazy goal--not even my goal. I saw a need as I sat in the Wyndham Hotel in Columbia, Missouri in August 2004. I raised my hand and said, "I want to start a writing project in southwest Missouri." I started my own breakout group and Melanie Burdick and Joyce Finch joined me. Why did they do that? They believed in teachers, too. And, that's how it began.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
New York City Schools, Testing, and Missouri
Shael Polakow-Suransky is the new second in command with NYC schools. A New York Times article today discusses discusses the fact that Mr. Polakow-Suransky grew up attending very progressive schools and now supports testing and assessment. I was curious about this contradiction, and I read on. Here's a quote that stuck out to me:
I don't know. I guess I'm getting to the age where I am seeing trends begin to come full circle. So many mixed messages.
Until we start seeing assessments that ask kids to write research papers, ask them to solve unfamiliar problems, ask them to defend their ideas, ask them to engage with both fiction and nonfiction texts; until those kinds of assessments are our state assessments, all we’re measuring are basic skills,” Mr. Polakow-Suransky said in an interview."I actually agree with him. Multiple choice tests are focused on basic skills (mostly). What's funny about this is that Missouri had the MAP test and the End-of-Course Exam and, as of this semester, they no longer administer the performance event, or writing prompt. And, whatever people say about the MAP, it did ask students to engage with fiction and non-fiction texts that they had no seen before. Even constructed responses ask students to solve problems and defend ideas.
I don't know. I guess I'm getting to the age where I am seeing trends begin to come full circle. So many mixed messages.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
So Much to Learn
This is not a blog post of answers. It's a reflection on OWP work and the future of some work. I'm just trying to think through some connections I am beginning to see.
Yesterday, we had our Ozarks Writing Project Winter Work Day. The goal was to work on the Continued Funding Application for the grant and to do program planning for 2011-2012. The Dean of the College of Education introduced me to Dr. Rosa Maria Mejia. We've met several times and on Friday we worked on an English Language Learners mini-grant to begin a book study group in an area school. We started the morning by writing about challenges and successes of the site. Since Rosa Maria is new to the site, I asked her to write about the project and the successes and challenges that she sees in working with the teachers and students at this school. After we wrote, we all shared what we were thinking.
I had heard Rosa Maria make this point before, but it's such an important point--one that I have thought about in different contexts. Her point is that as teachers working with students who are bilingual and bicultural that we ask student to value or prioritize one culture--English-speaking culture--above the one that they bring with them to school. Here's a poorly worded example of what this might look like: a teacher working with a bilingual student, "We are glad you are here. It's nice that you speak Spanish. Now, speak English, and start acting like we do. You have to do this to succeed."
This makes me think of so many things. I think of bilingual students and bilingual cultures. I think of Ozarks culture. I think of students in poverty. I think of what we ask all of these students to do in school. We hold them up to a standard that we set as the teacher. The standard that we set is affected by our own culture and values. Reminds me of so many situations--the teacher who says, "Kids need to know grammar and spelling if they are ever going to get a job" or "Kids need to speak English if they are going to be successful." These two types of comments seem similar to me. Ruby Payne came up in the conversation yesterday, and I had to stop myself from saying anything. Randy Bomer wrote an article in English Education about Ruby Payne's work, and I have, and never will, think the same thing about her work. I'm also thinking about academic writing and "expectations."
This moment of meeting Dr. Mejia and having her willing to be involved with the site is one of those writing project events where it feels like the stars are aligned--people and resources come together at just the right moment. I am so excited to work with Dr. Mejia. I also recognize that this is a point in my life where I can learn so much. I know virtually nothing about English Language Learning. I have a lot to learn. One of the books that they might read is called Funds of Knowledge: Theorizing Practices in Households, Communities, and Classrooms. I am ordering this book today. I just realize how little I know. I don't know the "language" of ELL. As much as I want my students to take into consideration students' background, family, and culture (and I'm disappointed when I don't see that), I'm not really sure if I know how to do it all that well. I thought I did, but I'm not sure.
I see this partnership with Dr. Mejia as a new journey. It feels pivotal to me in my thinking as a teacher and as an educator of teachers. I can't wait to read and learn more from her.
Yesterday, we had our Ozarks Writing Project Winter Work Day. The goal was to work on the Continued Funding Application for the grant and to do program planning for 2011-2012. The Dean of the College of Education introduced me to Dr. Rosa Maria Mejia. We've met several times and on Friday we worked on an English Language Learners mini-grant to begin a book study group in an area school. We started the morning by writing about challenges and successes of the site. Since Rosa Maria is new to the site, I asked her to write about the project and the successes and challenges that she sees in working with the teachers and students at this school. After we wrote, we all shared what we were thinking.
I had heard Rosa Maria make this point before, but it's such an important point--one that I have thought about in different contexts. Her point is that as teachers working with students who are bilingual and bicultural that we ask student to value or prioritize one culture--English-speaking culture--above the one that they bring with them to school. Here's a poorly worded example of what this might look like: a teacher working with a bilingual student, "We are glad you are here. It's nice that you speak Spanish. Now, speak English, and start acting like we do. You have to do this to succeed."
This makes me think of so many things. I think of bilingual students and bilingual cultures. I think of Ozarks culture. I think of students in poverty. I think of what we ask all of these students to do in school. We hold them up to a standard that we set as the teacher. The standard that we set is affected by our own culture and values. Reminds me of so many situations--the teacher who says, "Kids need to know grammar and spelling if they are ever going to get a job" or "Kids need to speak English if they are going to be successful." These two types of comments seem similar to me. Ruby Payne came up in the conversation yesterday, and I had to stop myself from saying anything. Randy Bomer wrote an article in English Education about Ruby Payne's work, and I have, and never will, think the same thing about her work. I'm also thinking about academic writing and "expectations."
This moment of meeting Dr. Mejia and having her willing to be involved with the site is one of those writing project events where it feels like the stars are aligned--people and resources come together at just the right moment. I am so excited to work with Dr. Mejia. I also recognize that this is a point in my life where I can learn so much. I know virtually nothing about English Language Learning. I have a lot to learn. One of the books that they might read is called Funds of Knowledge: Theorizing Practices in Households, Communities, and Classrooms. I am ordering this book today. I just realize how little I know. I don't know the "language" of ELL. As much as I want my students to take into consideration students' background, family, and culture (and I'm disappointed when I don't see that), I'm not really sure if I know how to do it all that well. I thought I did, but I'm not sure.
I see this partnership with Dr. Mejia as a new journey. It feels pivotal to me in my thinking as a teacher and as an educator of teachers. I can't wait to read and learn more from her.
Friday, October 01, 2010
Book Banning for Profit
In a the media frenzy of book banning, important stakeholders in this conversation were forgotten. Who were the teachers actually involved in this ban? For months prior to Wesley Scroggins' blog posts, a parent in the city of Republic, the issue of taking 20 Boy Summer and Slaughterhouse Five was discussed. In Scroggins' blog post, he mentioned three books, the two previous, and Speak. But, Speak was never "banned" at this school, merely mentioned in Scroggins post. A teacher in this district immediately stepped forward and said that they would not stop teaching Speak. Actually, this is a minor detail compared to the true story.
While #speakloudly, a hashtag begun by Paul Hankins, has now become a web page and a rallying cry for young adult readers and authors, no one seems to have cared to ask the teachers of this school how they are feeling. While Twitter sometimes feels like a backchannel for talk about potentially subversive, or maybe only "hot" topics, the true conversation about what it's like to be a teacher in a school that is asked to take books off the shelf, occurred on Facebook.
It's funny to me that articles about the banning of these books include comments from Paul Hankins, Sara Ochler, and Laurie Halse Anderson, but has anyone talked to the teachers of this school? How did that happen? So, to me, this whole firestorm of #speakloudly feels a bit dirty to me. It reminds me of #educationnation and NBC talking about school reform. What do they really know and who do they handpick to discuss teaching with? NOT the people who seem to be impacted.
Book banning is an opportunity to begin conversations about books. It's an opportunity to invite the community to read and discuss books. Ultimately, parents want to protect their children. We each have different things that we want to protect them from. I'm not sure Wesley Scroggins is THE "bad" guy in this situation. He contacted the school and wrote an editorial describing his feelings about the books. He does have the right to do that whether we agree or not. The result of his editorial is that a group of teachers in that district an opportunity to talk about why these books were important. Another result--he might as well have written a check to those authors.
I can't help but wonder why this book banning in Republic held more interest for YA authors and readers than the book banning--the actual banning--of Sherman Alexie's book in Stockton, Missouri. Well, whatever the reason, I'm still disappointed that censorship in one school became appropriated with parties who did not understand the whole story behind the school and didn't feel it necessary to include the actual teachers in the school in the conversation. They sidestepped them. The result? Money for a beautiful webpage called "Speak Loudly." Moving up 2,000 spots on the Amazon seller list. Frankly, shouldn't some of those who have co-opted this issue for their own profit write a thank you note to Mr. Scroggins and to the teachers of Republic. I think they can do better than send 20 books. Why not tell the New York Times and Huffington Post who they should really talk to?
These authors and supporters of YA lit do believe in protecting our right to read, but let's not overlook the profit to be made from being a part of this conversation.
While #speakloudly, a hashtag begun by Paul Hankins, has now become a web page and a rallying cry for young adult readers and authors, no one seems to have cared to ask the teachers of this school how they are feeling. While Twitter sometimes feels like a backchannel for talk about potentially subversive, or maybe only "hot" topics, the true conversation about what it's like to be a teacher in a school that is asked to take books off the shelf, occurred on Facebook.
It's funny to me that articles about the banning of these books include comments from Paul Hankins, Sara Ochler, and Laurie Halse Anderson, but has anyone talked to the teachers of this school? How did that happen? So, to me, this whole firestorm of #speakloudly feels a bit dirty to me. It reminds me of #educationnation and NBC talking about school reform. What do they really know and who do they handpick to discuss teaching with? NOT the people who seem to be impacted.
Book banning is an opportunity to begin conversations about books. It's an opportunity to invite the community to read and discuss books. Ultimately, parents want to protect their children. We each have different things that we want to protect them from. I'm not sure Wesley Scroggins is THE "bad" guy in this situation. He contacted the school and wrote an editorial describing his feelings about the books. He does have the right to do that whether we agree or not. The result of his editorial is that a group of teachers in that district an opportunity to talk about why these books were important. Another result--he might as well have written a check to those authors.
I can't help but wonder why this book banning in Republic held more interest for YA authors and readers than the book banning--the actual banning--of Sherman Alexie's book in Stockton, Missouri. Well, whatever the reason, I'm still disappointed that censorship in one school became appropriated with parties who did not understand the whole story behind the school and didn't feel it necessary to include the actual teachers in the school in the conversation. They sidestepped them. The result? Money for a beautiful webpage called "Speak Loudly." Moving up 2,000 spots on the Amazon seller list. Frankly, shouldn't some of those who have co-opted this issue for their own profit write a thank you note to Mr. Scroggins and to the teachers of Republic. I think they can do better than send 20 books. Why not tell the New York Times and Huffington Post who they should really talk to?
These authors and supporters of YA lit do believe in protecting our right to read, but let's not overlook the profit to be made from being a part of this conversation.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Teaching This Week Part II
Monday night the department head observed me teach. He does this every year, and I like having him in class. He doesn't make me nervous, but I think I was a better teacher last night with him in the room. Let me backtrack for a minute: I was a little nervous because at 3:35 (class starts at 4:00) I wasn't really sure what we were going to do in class. We had just read a chapter on teaching writing, and I could lecture all day long on that. Thing is, I don't really believe in lecture. I've been thinking recently that I need to share with the class my teaching philosophy because I think that my class could feel strange to an untrained eye. I could lecture. Sometimes I really want to lecture. Just stand there and talk. Tell everyone in the room everything that I know. I think that would be really easy, and I would have no trouble creating a syllabus.
But, I value collaboration, exploratory talk, and writing. I think they learn more from each other than they do from me in a lot of ways.
So, last night, I could decide what to do. They have a hard time teaching a mini-lesson in 15 minutes, so I thought I would model a lesson in a short amount of time. Here were my options:
1. Writing Territories (from Atwell)
2. Modeling My Composing Process Aloud (on the projector--the goal being to show them how ideas are generated and modeling the thinking behind beginning a piece of writing)
3. Snapshots and Thoughtshots (from Barry Lane)
4. Book Pass (from Janet Allen)
So, I got to class, hoping to work for a minute and think, but that never happens. Once people start coming you have to talk, but I did a have a few minutes with Leah and Heather. As soon as Heather had walked in the room, she saw the pile of books on the rolling cart and asked, "What's this all about?" I told them about the options for that night's class and they wanted to do the book pass. I had selected a lot of books about writing and a lot of books that Carol Booth Olson mentions in her book.
I started the class by introducing Dr. Blackmon and explaining that no matter what we teach we are observed by a "supervisor." I explained how it works in middle and high school, and I explained how it works at the university. I think it's important to do that. I think they needed to hear that because maybe they didn't know, and I also just want to model a sort of transparency of thinking. Or maybe it's more that I want to be very clear about why things are happening in the classroom. I'm not always clear, but it's my goal to try to explain "why" a lot.
I thought we would talk about the field experience for about 15 minutes. I went over a description of the field experience for about 10 minutes. Just going over this allowed me to elaborate and explain some things, and we were even able to tell some funny stories about making friends with school secretaries and parking in the right spot. There are always a lot more questions than I imagine. If I don't take the time to address this, then it is disaster. I stopped talking at the end of the page and had them process at their tables, which generated questions, and then I answered those questions.
I didn't have a book pass form ready, but I had them open a new document. We came up with a rating scale consisting of poor/boring, eh, fair, good, and buy this book. One person at the table grabbed a set of books, and they had a about a 1 1/2 minutes to read, type the name of the book, and rate. I think we did about six or seven rounds. Then, I had them find a book that they wanted to spend more time with. I gave them three more minutes to look at that book and I told them they would be partnering with someone to tell them why they liked this book and what they gleaned from it.
After all that, I asked a few people to share why they chose the book they did. It became an informal, spontaneous book talk. It was really cool. Amber chose Louise Rosenblatt's book Literature as Exploration. She began by saying it wasn't her first choice, but she remembered seeing Rosenblatt's name in our book. Then she explained that Rosenblatt was the theorist behind reader response, and she read aloud an amazing quote. To me, Amber doing that was better than a 50 minute lecture on Rosenblatt. I did take a couple of minutes to talk about aesthetic and efferent reading; I defined it and asked them to think about which one they did more of in school. Then, it opened the opportunity to talk about expressive and transactional writing (which linked to the writing chapter). We still had a little over ten minutes at the end, and I got to talk about freewriting and how it important it is to write at the end of class. I had created a forum on the discussion board, and we freewrote for five minutes.
Here's what I wrote:
You might be thinking that I didn't teach tonight. All of you did all of the talking, you moved the books to the table, you turned to the pages that you wanted to. Is that teaching? To me it is, actually, to me it's the best teaching. I could lecture. I have a lot of things to say about a lot of topics, but a great moment for me as a teacher tonight is that Amber brought up Rosenblatt. I think it's more powerful that she brought it up than if I would have spent 20 minutes talking about L.R. You know what I mean. There are lots of things that I want you to know, but I've been thinking about my philosophy of teaching and the fact that I haven't told you about it. I believe that there is more than one way to teach. I believe that you learn more by reading, writing, and talking than by listening to a teacher lecture. I think I could lecture more, and I think that if you want me to lecture on something, you can tell me. I'll do it. I do want you to experience things. I do want you to watch each other teach because I think you can learn a great deal by doing that. I just want ..... lost that thought. I thought class was good, but someone might think very little teaching went on--actually, they may be right, but I think a lot of learning went on.
After class was over, Michael said, "Hey, that was a great class for the Doc to see. That's the best one yet." I hope so. It seems like it's been hard to get warmed up this year (maybe any year for that matter).
And all of this writing is a way to procrastinate from doing the real writing--a personal statement of three pages describing everything I've done. I think I'll post that here when I'm finished.
But, I value collaboration, exploratory talk, and writing. I think they learn more from each other than they do from me in a lot of ways.
So, last night, I could decide what to do. They have a hard time teaching a mini-lesson in 15 minutes, so I thought I would model a lesson in a short amount of time. Here were my options:
1. Writing Territories (from Atwell)
2. Modeling My Composing Process Aloud (on the projector--the goal being to show them how ideas are generated and modeling the thinking behind beginning a piece of writing)
3. Snapshots and Thoughtshots (from Barry Lane)
4. Book Pass (from Janet Allen)
So, I got to class, hoping to work for a minute and think, but that never happens. Once people start coming you have to talk, but I did a have a few minutes with Leah and Heather. As soon as Heather had walked in the room, she saw the pile of books on the rolling cart and asked, "What's this all about?" I told them about the options for that night's class and they wanted to do the book pass. I had selected a lot of books about writing and a lot of books that Carol Booth Olson mentions in her book.
I started the class by introducing Dr. Blackmon and explaining that no matter what we teach we are observed by a "supervisor." I explained how it works in middle and high school, and I explained how it works at the university. I think it's important to do that. I think they needed to hear that because maybe they didn't know, and I also just want to model a sort of transparency of thinking. Or maybe it's more that I want to be very clear about why things are happening in the classroom. I'm not always clear, but it's my goal to try to explain "why" a lot.
I thought we would talk about the field experience for about 15 minutes. I went over a description of the field experience for about 10 minutes. Just going over this allowed me to elaborate and explain some things, and we were even able to tell some funny stories about making friends with school secretaries and parking in the right spot. There are always a lot more questions than I imagine. If I don't take the time to address this, then it is disaster. I stopped talking at the end of the page and had them process at their tables, which generated questions, and then I answered those questions.
I didn't have a book pass form ready, but I had them open a new document. We came up with a rating scale consisting of poor/boring, eh, fair, good, and buy this book. One person at the table grabbed a set of books, and they had a about a 1 1/2 minutes to read, type the name of the book, and rate. I think we did about six or seven rounds. Then, I had them find a book that they wanted to spend more time with. I gave them three more minutes to look at that book and I told them they would be partnering with someone to tell them why they liked this book and what they gleaned from it.
After all that, I asked a few people to share why they chose the book they did. It became an informal, spontaneous book talk. It was really cool. Amber chose Louise Rosenblatt's book Literature as Exploration. She began by saying it wasn't her first choice, but she remembered seeing Rosenblatt's name in our book. Then she explained that Rosenblatt was the theorist behind reader response, and she read aloud an amazing quote. To me, Amber doing that was better than a 50 minute lecture on Rosenblatt. I did take a couple of minutes to talk about aesthetic and efferent reading; I defined it and asked them to think about which one they did more of in school. Then, it opened the opportunity to talk about expressive and transactional writing (which linked to the writing chapter). We still had a little over ten minutes at the end, and I got to talk about freewriting and how it important it is to write at the end of class. I had created a forum on the discussion board, and we freewrote for five minutes.
Here's what I wrote:
You might be thinking that I didn't teach tonight. All of you did all of the talking, you moved the books to the table, you turned to the pages that you wanted to. Is that teaching? To me it is, actually, to me it's the best teaching. I could lecture. I have a lot of things to say about a lot of topics, but a great moment for me as a teacher tonight is that Amber brought up Rosenblatt. I think it's more powerful that she brought it up than if I would have spent 20 minutes talking about L.R. You know what I mean. There are lots of things that I want you to know, but I've been thinking about my philosophy of teaching and the fact that I haven't told you about it. I believe that there is more than one way to teach. I believe that you learn more by reading, writing, and talking than by listening to a teacher lecture. I think I could lecture more, and I think that if you want me to lecture on something, you can tell me. I'll do it. I do want you to experience things. I do want you to watch each other teach because I think you can learn a great deal by doing that. I just want ..... lost that thought. I thought class was good, but someone might think very little teaching went on--actually, they may be right, but I think a lot of learning went on.
After class was over, Michael said, "Hey, that was a great class for the Doc to see. That's the best one yet." I hope so. It seems like it's been hard to get warmed up this year (maybe any year for that matter).
And all of this writing is a way to procrastinate from doing the real writing--a personal statement of three pages describing everything I've done. I think I'll post that here when I'm finished.
Teaching This Week Part I
Here's the goal for Monday night's class:
1. Try to get future teachers to know that there is more to writing than just literary analysis essays and looking at student work to correct it for grammatical errors.
I've already had one of those conversations this week with a student teacher. She's a great student teacher by the way, and she had two goals for her students. The first is to understand the writing process and the second to make sure that students write grammatically correct. I asked her what she meant, and she said they didn't understand grammar. She went on to say that students couldn't identify proper nouns and verbs. I was interested in her goals because the first goal would have included polishing or editing work as part of the writing process, but she didn't talk about grammar in terms of editing a paper. Not being able to label parts of speech was a huge concern to her. I know that if she were with a different cooperating teacher that she would not share this concern so deeply.
On to Monday night's class, the class I teach is about teaching literature. In the book we are using, The Reading-Writing Connection: Strategies for Teaching and Learning in the Secondary Classroom by Carol Booth Olson, there is a chapter on teaching writing. My favorite topic. And the one I get to talk the least about.
I think there are newer statistics cited in Because Writing Matters, but it's always interesting to note Arthur Applebee's study (1981) [doesn't he have a newer one though?], 44% of all class time is used for writing activities, but less than 3% is used for writing of a paragraph in length or longer. Even in English, only 10% was spent on extensive writing tasks (Booth Olson, p. 201).
Research shows that writing helps us think ....
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Tenure for Teachers
Since my tenure packet is due October 8, I've obviously been thinking about the term for awhile--say, five years or so. In discussions of education reform, this issue comes up a lot. The argument seems to go something like this: "If there were no tenure, there would be no bad teachers. Tenure keeps administrators from firing "bad" teachers."
I don't think that's the case. First of all, as a public school teachers, having tenure does not keep you from being fired. As I understand it, administrators can provide teachers with job targets, and if they have evidence, you could still be fired. For me, tenure meant that I was vested in the retirement system. I didn't sit sinisterly at my desk after the fifth year and think, "Ha, they can't get me now!" Anyway, like any teacher, I've seen teachers who don't care much about their job, and they have tenure. I've actually known very few teachers to be fired (I know it's different for different regions--say, Rhode Island for example). I don't think it's because administrators don't feel like they can't. I think they may think it's a lot of trouble. It could stir up controversy, so they just don't.
So, now that I'm at a university, for the last four years I have had to turn in a reappointment letter and portfolio outlining my work at the university and why I should be reappointed for the next year. This has been due each January. If for some reason, I received negative reviews as a result of the January portfolio, I would be able to teach the following year, but I would be looking for a job the next. There are supports in place if I were not doing well. Professors at a higher rank could provide mentoring if there were negative reviews. It is the job of my colleagues, as opposed to the department head, to really support me (although the department head is supportive of his department). This reappointment process begins with the personnel committee in the department. They write a recommendation, which goes to the department head, which goes to the dean of the College. Then, I get a letter saying whether I am recommended or not.
Although I will be glad to turn in my tenure dossier in less than two weeks, and it's been a challenge to keep up with, I do know there are benefits to this process:
1. Each year I have had to sit down and reflect on the work that I've done for the last year. What have I done of value that has positively impacted my teaching, research, and service?
2. I have to ask myself, "How is what I do aligned with the mission of the university?"
3. Is my work disconnected? Can I connect what I teach, my research, and my service into a focused effort that also supports the university?
These aren't easy questions to answer. They make me think. I appreciate at the the end that the writing leads me to be able to make an argument for the value of my work within this system. Yes, I have to provide "data" to support this. I include numbers--numbers of contact hours with teachers, impact of this work on students, and more. I have to ask colleagues to write letters describing the teaching that they have seen me do. I have to invite colleagues in to watch me teach.
Going through this process and listening to arguments against tenure in public schools, it makes me wonder why public school teachers wouldn't have a similar tenure process--maybe not to the extent of the university, but would it hurt to write a three-page letter at the end of five years that describes how they work that they do supports other teachers and improves student learning? Maybe they write a letter each year and submit it to a committee of "tenured" teachers at the school. As I write this line, I can hear arguments (with myself). First, teachers on the committee might not like you, and they will not grant you tenure because of that. Second, there is not time to write a letter. Okay, there are two arguments. Well, like any system, the personnel committee would not be the only arbiter of your work. Second, it would be nice if the school provided a release day or some of that professional development time to have teachers write just such a letter. A letter like this would allow Casey to showcase to her school the impact her teaching has on students and the community.
As much as I have hated it at times, writing the yearly reappointment letter was important professional development for me. Creating this tenure dossier is good for me. There are goals and standards that I need to meet, and I need the time to think and make sure that my work does align with the goals of the university. By the way, the university's mission is public affairs, specifically, we focus on community engagement, cultural competence, and ethical leadership. Thank goodness for the the National Writing Project. It holds an unofficial public affairs mission. It makes it easier to make a case for my work.
Just one thought swirling around in this education reform mess.
I don't think that's the case. First of all, as a public school teachers, having tenure does not keep you from being fired. As I understand it, administrators can provide teachers with job targets, and if they have evidence, you could still be fired. For me, tenure meant that I was vested in the retirement system. I didn't sit sinisterly at my desk after the fifth year and think, "Ha, they can't get me now!" Anyway, like any teacher, I've seen teachers who don't care much about their job, and they have tenure. I've actually known very few teachers to be fired (I know it's different for different regions--say, Rhode Island for example). I don't think it's because administrators don't feel like they can't. I think they may think it's a lot of trouble. It could stir up controversy, so they just don't.
So, now that I'm at a university, for the last four years I have had to turn in a reappointment letter and portfolio outlining my work at the university and why I should be reappointed for the next year. This has been due each January. If for some reason, I received negative reviews as a result of the January portfolio, I would be able to teach the following year, but I would be looking for a job the next. There are supports in place if I were not doing well. Professors at a higher rank could provide mentoring if there were negative reviews. It is the job of my colleagues, as opposed to the department head, to really support me (although the department head is supportive of his department). This reappointment process begins with the personnel committee in the department. They write a recommendation, which goes to the department head, which goes to the dean of the College. Then, I get a letter saying whether I am recommended or not.
Although I will be glad to turn in my tenure dossier in less than two weeks, and it's been a challenge to keep up with, I do know there are benefits to this process:
1. Each year I have had to sit down and reflect on the work that I've done for the last year. What have I done of value that has positively impacted my teaching, research, and service?
2. I have to ask myself, "How is what I do aligned with the mission of the university?"
3. Is my work disconnected? Can I connect what I teach, my research, and my service into a focused effort that also supports the university?
These aren't easy questions to answer. They make me think. I appreciate at the the end that the writing leads me to be able to make an argument for the value of my work within this system. Yes, I have to provide "data" to support this. I include numbers--numbers of contact hours with teachers, impact of this work on students, and more. I have to ask colleagues to write letters describing the teaching that they have seen me do. I have to invite colleagues in to watch me teach.
Going through this process and listening to arguments against tenure in public schools, it makes me wonder why public school teachers wouldn't have a similar tenure process--maybe not to the extent of the university, but would it hurt to write a three-page letter at the end of five years that describes how they work that they do supports other teachers and improves student learning? Maybe they write a letter each year and submit it to a committee of "tenured" teachers at the school. As I write this line, I can hear arguments (with myself). First, teachers on the committee might not like you, and they will not grant you tenure because of that. Second, there is not time to write a letter. Okay, there are two arguments. Well, like any system, the personnel committee would not be the only arbiter of your work. Second, it would be nice if the school provided a release day or some of that professional development time to have teachers write just such a letter. A letter like this would allow Casey to showcase to her school the impact her teaching has on students and the community.
As much as I have hated it at times, writing the yearly reappointment letter was important professional development for me. Creating this tenure dossier is good for me. There are goals and standards that I need to meet, and I need the time to think and make sure that my work does align with the goals of the university. By the way, the university's mission is public affairs, specifically, we focus on community engagement, cultural competence, and ethical leadership. Thank goodness for the the National Writing Project. It holds an unofficial public affairs mission. It makes it easier to make a case for my work.
Just one thought swirling around in this education reform mess.
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