Home Stretch

Random reporting from Teach Like a Champion headquarters.  I'm just opening the book at random to finish out the year. In the meantime, I've got myself a writing coach (my 35th birthday present) and am working on young adult fiction, food reviews, the world of womanhood and finding a disciplined writing practice and a more rested mind. The blogging world has ignited a deeper desire to write, write, write. A happy Emily= teacher + writer.  I've decided to stick it out another year in the wacky wake of education. So, in honor of finally embracing my writing life and continued employment, here is #26: EVERYBODY WRITES.

Sometimes we think we are so clever as teachers. We dream up higher level, critical, complex questions and present them to our students. They stare back, eyes glazed over, dumbfounded. Are we speaking Greek? See if you can recognize yourself in this response–slight panicky feeling settles in, glancing around the room you find nothing, no one to help. Not even the top student gets it. Wanting to avoid that not-so-fresh feeling, you proceed to answer the question yourself, and move along. Happy that at least they were quiet. This is cognitively beneficial for only one person in the room, as you may have already guessed.

The antidote to the awkwardness: EVERYBODY WRITES. For me, the Do Now segment that is on the board to start class is an everyone writes activity. Today we were journaling from the point of view of a German solider (reading Night, a nice light end to the year, ha)–an internal monologue, present tense, first person narrative. I knew if I just asked students to verbalize how it would feel to be in the shoes of the oppressors that the responses would not be as rich. This technique is a gold mine for getting discussion to open at a deep level in the room. It also calms down 10th graders who are riled up in the process of getting to class. Other benefits are that you can call on any student to answer (COLD CALL, the maestro of this book coming soon), you can check work over their shoulders, processing happens on a deeper level, you can guide the lesson in the way you want, and they learn more when writing things down (especially their own thoughts and analysis). I know that getting a whole class to write before sharing sounds like a no-brainer, but there are educators out there who do not have their students doing much in the way of writing on a daily basis or any basis.

Many kids hate to write, or say they do. My challenge to myself is to keep finding ways to encourage them that writing is an important, learnable process. When you want to quit or give up, that one or two sentences/paragraphs/pages more is where you will find your best thoughts. When we write, we discover another voice. The writer's voice is often more intellectually astute, engaged and cognizant in the world. I know students, like all people, are moved by the power of words. Trick is to get them to be moved by the power of their own words. Baby steps. Or, when in doubt, reference Tupac. Roses growing from concrete echoes around the globe.

Turning Points

No teaching techniques tonight from the Teach Like a Champion peeps.  I've been unable to pick up the book–a slight feeling of dread emanates from its pages every time I look at it.  Essentially, a good book with good intentions for a system that is falling apart at the seams.  Trying to fix what can be fixed on a microcosmic level–teachers.  But, leaving unchecked the larger systemic issues that put enormous pressure and burden on those teachers.  Public education is an unsustainable endeavor and I'm feeling caught in the web.  I'm wondering how teachers do this for so many years.  How can they find enough satisfaction and reward to compensate for all the trials and tribulations that make up teaching?  Maybe younger students are where it's at.  Teenagers are, in a word, tiresome.  They are wonderful, and they make me weary.  I long for sanity and rhythm and ease.  I want to write, read for my own knowing, give service where it is wanted and accepted.  I've been reading two other books that are bringing wisdom and comfort for this time of searching:

• How to Master Change In Your Life by Mary Carroll Moore
• When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pema Chodron

  

The J-Factor

I've skipped ahead to teach-nique #46, the J-factor, or JOY FACTOR.  Tomorrow is my 35th birthday and I have decided to embrace this principle outside of the classroom by spoiling myself and birthdaying all day long.  Ah, facial and vegan cupcake (they're really really good) here I come.  I'm also setting the intention for this upcoming school year that I be in a place where work is joyful and not a place I want to avoid on my birthday.  Several students told me they had surprises for me tomorrow, so I warned them I wouldn't be there--"What are your favorite flowers?" they asked me (freesia), "What color of balloons do you like?" (all colors).  There is much sweetness if you look for it.

We all like celebrations, songs, games, competitions, nicknames, drama, dance, music, movement, humor, suspense and surprise.  The J-FACTOR is my inspiration for improving my teaching, and my life.  I want to reach for the highest possible place for me to be.  I want to teach the kids who want what I have to offer and the gifts I can give them.  I want to make learning exciting and worth it; I'm open to find new ways to show students that what I can offer will benefit them for their whole lives.  Cheers to the JOY of living & learning.  

More

Total week from hell after Wednesday.  I'm home blasting out to Usher, "More" and pretending I'm an NBA player who can dunk--sliding across the court under a house of lights with Usher busting his groove in the background.  Like some kind of African warrior in a modern day gladiator arena.  Seven feet tall, huge, all adrenaline: "I'm a beast, I'm an animal, The headliner, finisher, I'm the closer, winner, best when under pressure, with seconds left I show up."

I'm about ready to chuck this Teach Like a Champion book out the window, and it's not its fault.  It's like a light bulb has gone on, and I realize the crux of all my management issues with students this year.  Okay, a lack of structure and school wide accountability has been toxic.  But here is the missing element I can control: I am a big softie and that ends up in a scenario with me as doormat, which turns into severe frustration that I generally turn inward onto myself.  As I'm staring the final month+ in the face, this is what I've learned from my students this year in one sentence:  When you are bad, I'm calling your parents.

Okay, and one more thing from my Latina teacher friend, Karla.  In Mexican culture, don't let the kids get a word in edgewise.  Shut down that backtalk immediately.  Forget freedom of expression when it comes to negativity.

I've been trained from my old school that if you called home the parents would beat their kids, not give a damn or act just like their kids, so I always dealt directly with the kid and worked things out.  We had a tight network of support between teachers and administration, and problems rarely escalated.  There was mutual respect and staff members were regarded highly.

Not so at this school.  Gotta call mommy or daddy if their 15 year-olds are talking back, being rude, spazzing out, remaining unfocused, trying their hardest to fail.  I've been busting my butt to improve my planning, hook 'em, engage 'em, let 'em speak and implementing many of these techniques.  I feel I can't really continue until I get a grasp on some things within myself.

This book will only go so far until I get in touch with my inner bitch.  I know it's bad to cuss, and I'm all for an expanded vocabulary usually.  But this word is an important one for me to sort out.  Being a bitch has this ring of terror for me on some level, as a symptom of the peoplepleasingitis disease that I've had most of my life.  The big lie?  Being a bitch is not always a bad thing.  Women who are bitches are powerful.  They are fighting the current of life, not being swallowed in their tears.  They are 5'1" and huge.  They are vocal, screaming: "If you're on the floor, bring out the fire.  And light it up, take it up higher.  Gonna push it to the limit, give it more."  Thanks, Usher.  That's freedom, people.  No wet dish rags.  No more little doll-girl.  No more punching bag for teens.  If you've never been in an inner city school, you'll think I'm crazy.  If you have, yep, you know.

Talk less, facilitate more

Not sure if anyone is really reading this, but here goes.  I am happy to report that as I continue to work with the strategies so far, my students are getting more responsive.  They're getting used to greater accountability and I've been diligent with planning to be more challenging and effective in the classroom.  Some of my strengths are starting to come out from the deep.  A student who had to leave school came to say goodbye to me this past week--a special trip, she said, because I was such a good teacher.  Gotta take it where you get it.

My students were playing Jeopardy today and calling out with the different animal noises from the characters in Animal Farm--spontaneous celebration of literature.  If they were trying to persuade me to give their side more points, I said they were being like Squealer, Orwell's persuasive propaganda pig (we call him the PPP).  Apparently you can insult teens if you do it in the disguise of literary characters.  In this unit, most of my students actually embraced the challenge of reading an antiquated, but important book.  A rarity in today's teen world.

New techniques: BREAK IT DOWN #16 is something I have more of a natural ability for already.  This is giving cues, providing context, rules, missing first steps or eliminating false choices so students can get at a right answer or understanding when they are struggling to master something.  Maybe not perfect, but I got this one, yo, you feel me?

The other technique, RATIO #17 deals with the students doing the cognitive work rather than the teacher.  Finally my shy, lack of spotlight, facilitator nature gets to shine.  Having students be involved throughout the whole lesson is invigorating for me as teacher and definitely for students, many of whom are sadly unaccustomed to speaking during class.  I know my students are happy to be able to participate--it's getting to the point where hands are excitedly raised to answer questions, share their writing, show their skills.  And these aren't the nerds.  These are the so-called problem kids.

Here are suggestions from the Teach Like a Champion guru, Doug Lemov, on how to do RATIO:  unbundle questions into smaller parts so students can answer, make half-statements that they can finish, ask what's next, feign ignorance so they are the "experts", ask for repeated examples of similar topics going deeper into the idea, rephrase or add on to other answers, ask why or how, ask for supporting evidence, and allow for a host of responses before you add comments as a teacher.  Lemov suggests a volleyball game, not soccer.  Sports metaphors are really good for getting boys to understand things!  So cheers to a home run.

P.S. It's teacher appreciation week.  My apple-gift only lasted to sixth period before a hungry student asked for it.