So far this semester, I have been able to attend two student meetings: one IEP meeting, and one child study meeting. Both included the student, his/her parents and teachers, and at least one counselor. In both, teachers expressed concerns regarding the students but also mentioned strengths. In both, we heard from the parents.
Despite similarities, however, they were two very different meetings. In the IEP meeting, the counselor set the tone immediately. He said to the student that even though it was intimidating to be surrounded by teachers, we were there to help him.
In the child study meeting, the counselor set a different tone. He let us know that we had been called together to discuss some concerns. This particular student was causing a lot of disciplinary problems, so we needed to talk about them.
The meetings proceeded according to the tone set at the beginning. In the IEP meeting, teachers first mentioned strengths: "He's really intelligent," "He asks good questions," He's a critical thinker." Then they mentioned areas of improvement. They identified causes for the issues raised and, altogether, the team developed solutions.
In the child study meeting, a couple teachers mentioned strengths before concerns, but the others only talked about problems, and that was the orientation of the meeting, in general. Solutions were left for the student to figure out: HE needs to adjust, HE needs to change. Only one teacher mentioned not having problems with the student anymore. She said she just had a conversation with the student about what was appropriate, but she still gave him his couple minutes to be the class clown. Unfortunately, she spoke at the end, after all the other teachers had left.
And finally, the biggest difference I noticed between the two meetings was the role of the student. Because the IEP meeting's goal, as stated by the counselor, was to help the student, we heard from him. He told us why he thought he might have these problems; we asked him what he thought might help. The student took an active role.
In the child study meeting, we never asked the student what he thought. We never asked him why he might behave the way he does, and how he can learn best. It seemed the tone set guided the meeting's message into something like this: "This is what you're doing wrong, and this is what you need to do to change."
As the title of my post implies, I believe these two meetings were different because of the way we started. I believe the child study counselor wanted to help the student, too, and I'm sure his teachers felt the same way. However, since it started the way it did, without saying from the beginning that we were there for the student and not to vent about or issues with regard to the student, it might have been a lot more productive.
Language is a process of free creation; its laws and principles are fixed, but the manner in which the principles of generation are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretation and use of words involves a process of free creation. --Noam Chomsky
Monday, November 8, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Professional Development
Today, I was a part of my first, formal professional development day. Since we are the only high school in the school district, these don't happen very often. Each department has PLCs every few weeks, but this has been the first time I've seen all of the faculty together and had conversations with people outside of Foreign Language.
The major topic of discussion today was formative assessment, and in particular, proficiency scales. The idea is to create levels by which you can classify students according to their skills. The teachers are using a four-point scale, with three being the goal for every student, and four, the above and beyond.
The proficiency scales have a positive connotation. They list skills students have already achieved at various levels and never state deficiencies. However, the student can look at the level beyond where they're at to see where they can go next.
Sounds like a good idea to me, in theory. Teachers benefit: they can use them to think critically about where their students are, where they want them to be, and how they have to adjust curriculum to get there. Students benefit: they know what they are capable of now, and they are given a goal to work towards. Parents benefit, too: they get more specific information about how their students are doing, and they know areas where they can help their students to develop. They are good ways to increase communication between parent/student/teacher and a way to get everyone on the same page.
However, as one teacher was presenting her example, she mentioned how she presented the scales to her class. She explained how they worked, and then told them that "four is similar to 100%, and 3 is about 91%," etc. And everyone started asking questions about whether these were grades, and if they needed to be aligned with the classroom grade, and how they translate to an A-F scale. And then we really lost sight of the goal of proficiency scales.
In one of our group discussions today, we considered this quote: "Learning stops as soon as the grade is given." It's counter-intuitive to make proficiency scales into grades. They'll take the grade, accept that that's their level, and be done with it. The students who won't will be the students already at the 3rd level.
Maybe the students shouldn't even be presented with a number; maybe they should just see the categories, or be given a list of strengths, and a list of areas of development. The numbers seem to be lending to a grade. It's always about a grade in school. Even some teachers struggle with the idea of an evaluation without a number value. While I believe in the idea of proficiency scales, I have my doubts about their practicality in the classroom. I really hope that they don't end up being another grading scale and can be used for their original purpose, but it's going to take a lot of thinking outside of the box.
The major topic of discussion today was formative assessment, and in particular, proficiency scales. The idea is to create levels by which you can classify students according to their skills. The teachers are using a four-point scale, with three being the goal for every student, and four, the above and beyond.
The proficiency scales have a positive connotation. They list skills students have already achieved at various levels and never state deficiencies. However, the student can look at the level beyond where they're at to see where they can go next.
Sounds like a good idea to me, in theory. Teachers benefit: they can use them to think critically about where their students are, where they want them to be, and how they have to adjust curriculum to get there. Students benefit: they know what they are capable of now, and they are given a goal to work towards. Parents benefit, too: they get more specific information about how their students are doing, and they know areas where they can help their students to develop. They are good ways to increase communication between parent/student/teacher and a way to get everyone on the same page.
However, as one teacher was presenting her example, she mentioned how she presented the scales to her class. She explained how they worked, and then told them that "four is similar to 100%, and 3 is about 91%," etc. And everyone started asking questions about whether these were grades, and if they needed to be aligned with the classroom grade, and how they translate to an A-F scale. And then we really lost sight of the goal of proficiency scales.
In one of our group discussions today, we considered this quote: "Learning stops as soon as the grade is given." It's counter-intuitive to make proficiency scales into grades. They'll take the grade, accept that that's their level, and be done with it. The students who won't will be the students already at the 3rd level.
Maybe the students shouldn't even be presented with a number; maybe they should just see the categories, or be given a list of strengths, and a list of areas of development. The numbers seem to be lending to a grade. It's always about a grade in school. Even some teachers struggle with the idea of an evaluation without a number value. While I believe in the idea of proficiency scales, I have my doubts about their practicality in the classroom. I really hope that they don't end up being another grading scale and can be used for their original purpose, but it's going to take a lot of thinking outside of the box.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Down and Dirty--It's not all Fun and Games
The Background
I started my original unit plan this week. I opened by showing them the week’s objectives. They were in the form of questions they would be able to answer by the end of the week. I then explained to them what their final project will be. I will explain it to you, too.
My unit is on food. My essential question is: How is what we eat influenced by where we are? The week begins with Iowa. They will learn what regional foods are, but we will address the fact that we are not limited by our region. They will keep a food journal to track where their food is coming from, when they buy it, where they buy it, etc. They will make a food map, so they have a visual representation of how far their food travels, and they’ll talk about the advantages and disadvantages of a global food market.
Then they’ll learn all these things about Guatemala: what regional foods are, how they are influenced by the region itself, etc. They will see a food map, a food journal, and a typical recipe of a Guatemalan person. The cumulative assignment will be a letter from a Guatemalan student describing all these things, and they will answer her, writing the same things about Iowa.
This is pretty different from what they have been doing in class so far this year. We have been doing a lot of grammar and a lot of vocabulary. My teacher is good about contextualizing things—she adds her own spice to each lesson, but this is the first time they have focused more on culture than grammar. I did this, though, because my teacher told me I could do a culture lesson because there was space in her curriculum, so I jumped at the opportunity. It’s been a real challenge, because I don’t really have any curriculum I can use as a guide; I’m kind of building my own and seeing how it works out.
All right, after all that, back to the beginning. Like I said, I started my unit plan this week, and today was the second day. Yesterday, in one class period, a boy raised his hand and said (mind you, with a twinge of attitude in his voice) “So why are we learning about Iowa in Spanish class?” I gave him an answer: No, it was not going to be on the test. Yes, it is part of culture, and you need to understand yourself before you start to understand another culture.
Realizing that the other classes probably also needed this rationale, I opened today, re-explaining myself. I told them they needed information about Iowa to complete their final projects, and I re-explained what that was. I told them it is part of the national standards for foreign language learning, and the reason for that is because you can’t fully understand a language without understanding the people and the place it comes from. I gave them an example. I told them we are starting with Iowa because the best way to learn anything is to make it relevant, and if we understand ourselves well, we can use that to make comparisons with other places, and it gives everything more context.
I stepped off my soap box. They rolled their eyes.
Overall, one class period is really receptive to the idea. One is a little skeptical, but playing my “reindeer games,” as my teacher calls them. This other class, though, with the boy who asked the question, is constantly challenging me. They are very skeptical, and they’ll let me know it. They are not always very respectful in their manner of doing so, either. They’re still trying to figure out if I am someone they should listen to, so it feels like I’m constantly on trial when I’m in front of that class.
So with regard to this class, my thinking could go two different ways:
Irrational Self:
They are snotty. I see the girls talking in the corner and smirking, and then they look at me. I can hear them in the back of the classroom asking, “So what we are we even doing?” and when I ask if they have a question, they don’t ask me. They need attitude checks.
They have all been taught to the test. They expect to only learn what they need to know for the test, and they deem everything else as irrelevant.
They don’t like me. They’ve decided that I am not enough of an authority figure in the classroom. I haven’t gained their respect, so they don’t listen to me.
Rational Self:
Firstly, my unit plan is something really different, and of course they are going to be skeptical of that. Not only is it different information, but it’s a different person teaching it, too. Why is this new person changing up the classroom like this? And maybe it’s too much different and not enough of what they’re used to. I need to adjust my lesson to also make it compatible with the way they are used to learning foreign language, too.
They are going to challenge me. I am a new student teacher, and they want to make sure I know what I’m talking about. They are keeping me in check and fresh, and that’s an okay thing to do. I should be able to explain why I’m doing everything I’m doing—that’s all part of the job, anyway.
If they’re deeming what I have to say/teach as irrelevant, I need to show them that it is relevant and important. I also need to make them liable for the work they are doing, so those who are truly only motivated by a grade and evaluation are also motivated to work.
They may or may not like me, but that doesn’t matter. They decided that I am not an authority figure because I am a pretty non-directive person. I started the class a little too passive as far as classroom management, and they are still testing my limits. I will do my best to keep it in line, but it’s too late to completely turn these classes around.
Also, a big reason lessons aren't going well in that difficult class is because I dread that class. I expect them to not be excited and to challenge me, which makes me not perform to the best of my abilities. They don't get the energy from me that other classes get, so of course they're not going to be as engaged. I need to have confidence in myself and what I'm teaching. I need to know that it's something important, regardless of what they think. If this is true, then the lessons will go more smoothly.
Reflection
It’s frustrating to be doing the bulk of my learning experience in a classroom in front of my biggest critics. We spent years studying philosophy, and techniques, and deciding what we believe with regard to teaching and what kind of teachers we want to be. We observed lessons and created them, and we got to practice here and there, too. But this is it—this is the crash course in teaching, and we have to try and fail in front of classes full of students who need to learn from us, and who are going to test us (at least in my case). They aren’t going to understand where we’re coming from. They are taking us at face value, and they make their decision from that. Yikes.
I know that, even though this experience has been frustrating so far, I will take everything I’m learning and apply it to my next placement. All those things that feel like failures to me will only make me better in the next seven weeks.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Technique
In class, we were asked to consider techniques we were using and how we thought they were working. I sat for a while, trying to name techniques I use, but I couldn't. I'm certain I use some, but I just don't realize it--my teaching is an accumulation of all the things I thought went well in classrooms I've been in before and in my cooperating teacher's. I do create original assignments, but as far as classroom philosophy and management, I've borrowed some of that from the teachers from which I enjoyed learning. I guess I just blurted all that out to make the statement that I cannot necessarily take full ownership for the techniques that I use now--I owe a lot of it to people outside myself.
Anyway.
I give the students a lot of time to work in partners. I know there's always the case that some partners just won't work together, or that one will do the work while the other one copies. However, I think there are more benefits than drawbacks to partner work. In partners, students are actively engaging in conversation. They're using their language skills practically, and that is certainly an important goal in a foreign language classroom.
They're also problem solving. It's good to have a second opinion when doing so, because sometimes that opinion will be a challenge. You have to learn to defend your response, and that strengthens understanding. So does teaching or explaining a concept, which students also have the opportunity to do if their partners may not be sure of the answer.
Most importantly, though, they can gain confidence in their answer if they find that someone else agrees. Once confident in their competency, they will be more willing to contribute in class. Once I've given them time to check with a partner, I don't feel like I'm putting them on the spot if I call on them in class. "Think. Pair. Share."
As far as classroom management goes, I follow my cooperating teacher's example: catch them doing something good, and always give the student the benefit of the doubt. If I show them that I'm not being accusatory, they will not feel threatened in the classroom. Instead of telling the students what to do, generally I'll suggest it, with a little bit of humor. Of course, you have to know your students well enough to know who will understand the humor, and who needs direct instruction.
However, telling students what to do (and especially what NOT to do) sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable. In the introduction of the book, the author mentions that the United States is a democracy, but our schools aren't. I don't want the students to think they have no say in how things will be done in the classroom. I know I have to have some sort of authority, or we would be talking about Jersey Shore all day, but I also don't want them to think they can't speak in class. I know some teachers love silence, but it actually makes me a little nervous--makes me think the students are bored, and I don't want that for them, and I certainly know they don't enjoy it.
Anyway.
I give the students a lot of time to work in partners. I know there's always the case that some partners just won't work together, or that one will do the work while the other one copies. However, I think there are more benefits than drawbacks to partner work. In partners, students are actively engaging in conversation. They're using their language skills practically, and that is certainly an important goal in a foreign language classroom.
They're also problem solving. It's good to have a second opinion when doing so, because sometimes that opinion will be a challenge. You have to learn to defend your response, and that strengthens understanding. So does teaching or explaining a concept, which students also have the opportunity to do if their partners may not be sure of the answer.
Most importantly, though, they can gain confidence in their answer if they find that someone else agrees. Once confident in their competency, they will be more willing to contribute in class. Once I've given them time to check with a partner, I don't feel like I'm putting them on the spot if I call on them in class. "Think. Pair. Share."
As far as classroom management goes, I follow my cooperating teacher's example: catch them doing something good, and always give the student the benefit of the doubt. If I show them that I'm not being accusatory, they will not feel threatened in the classroom. Instead of telling the students what to do, generally I'll suggest it, with a little bit of humor. Of course, you have to know your students well enough to know who will understand the humor, and who needs direct instruction.
However, telling students what to do (and especially what NOT to do) sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable. In the introduction of the book, the author mentions that the United States is a democracy, but our schools aren't. I don't want the students to think they have no say in how things will be done in the classroom. I know I have to have some sort of authority, or we would be talking about Jersey Shore all day, but I also don't want them to think they can't speak in class. I know some teachers love silence, but it actually makes me a little nervous--makes me think the students are bored, and I don't want that for them, and I certainly know they don't enjoy it.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Identity Confusion
I'm not sure what I am right now. For 16 years of my life, I have identified as a student. I am the one in the class, learning. I am just a guest in someone else's room. The teacher is the one I'm learning from and whose class I'm in.
So where am I now? I am a student teacher. I am both of these things. Right now, though, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the latter. I was talking with my roommate about my day at school, and I told her I recieved students' IEPs, "even though I don't think I'm supposed to see them." She responded, "No, of course you're supposed to see them; why wouldn't you?" And I realized that I felt as though I didn't have a right to them because I feel more like my cooperating teacher's student than her colleague right now.
I have been observing, and she's been giving me wonderful tips and comments, narrating her day for me so that I might be able to put my upcoming experience into perspective, but I'm just not there yet. She's still the wealth of knowledge for the students, myself included. I can't imagine yet being that wealth of knowledge for students. I don't feel as though I have the right to the information I'm receiving, such as IEPs, counselor emails, etc; it still feels like she is sneaking me secret information. I imagine this might change once I actually get in front of the class, but for right now, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.
So where am I now? I am a student teacher. I am both of these things. Right now, though, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the latter. I was talking with my roommate about my day at school, and I told her I recieved students' IEPs, "even though I don't think I'm supposed to see them." She responded, "No, of course you're supposed to see them; why wouldn't you?" And I realized that I felt as though I didn't have a right to them because I feel more like my cooperating teacher's student than her colleague right now.
I have been observing, and she's been giving me wonderful tips and comments, narrating her day for me so that I might be able to put my upcoming experience into perspective, but I'm just not there yet. She's still the wealth of knowledge for the students, myself included. I can't imagine yet being that wealth of knowledge for students. I don't feel as though I have the right to the information I'm receiving, such as IEPs, counselor emails, etc; it still feels like she is sneaking me secret information. I imagine this might change once I actually get in front of the class, but for right now, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
My legacy
In my Practicum class, I was discussing my unit plan ideas with my professor. She told me what she wanted me to do, and I told her I didn't think I could; I didn't have the know how. She pushed me, and I pushed back. I left that conversation the most frustrated I had ever been with a professor and wrote a good, quality unit plan, based on her expectations, not mine.
One of my favorite poems my Emily Dickinson starts, "We never know how high we are/'til we are asked to rise." While many high school students may be exceptions, many others just do enough. They do what they have to to make the grade, and it's good work. They might even get As and Bs for it, but they are not doing their best.
I want to frustrate students. I want to push them places they think they can't go, and watch as they realize they can, and that maybe they can go even farther. I want my students to remember me as the teacher who took the time to know them well enough to challenge them just the way they needed to be challenged. I want them to say, "Ms. Oblander made me so angry, but looking back, I'm glad."
One of my favorite poems my Emily Dickinson starts, "We never know how high we are/'til we are asked to rise." While many high school students may be exceptions, many others just do enough. They do what they have to to make the grade, and it's good work. They might even get As and Bs for it, but they are not doing their best.
I want to frustrate students. I want to push them places they think they can't go, and watch as they realize they can, and that maybe they can go even farther. I want my students to remember me as the teacher who took the time to know them well enough to challenge them just the way they needed to be challenged. I want them to say, "Ms. Oblander made me so angry, but looking back, I'm glad."
My Inspiration
While on the return flight from Costa Rica, I sat next to a man who looked as though he was a native Spanish speaker. We didn't interact much. I read my book, and he spent most of his time looking out the window. The pilot announced 30 minutes until arrival in Chicago, Illinois, and the flight attendants began to pass out US customs forms. I started on my own when my neighbor leaned in and asked me a question in broken English. I responded in Spanish, and he looked at me, surprised. Hablas espanol? he asked. "Si," I replied, "acabo de pasar tres meses en Costa Rica." And for the rest of the flight, he embellished on his travels to South America and all the beautiful women he met there.
I've always loved Spanish. I started Education courses in my first year at Coe, and they've highly interested me, too, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized exactly why it was important to me to teach a foreign language. Had I not learned Spanish, I would have never known that man. We would have sat quietly in our seats, making assumptions about one another but never being able to really know. And I looked back at the past semester I spent in Costa Rica, the host family that became my own, and a foreign country that became familiar--I never would have known those people or their country had I not taken the time to learn another language.
The world is full of different cultures, ethnicities, and people, who have different ideas, beliefs, and values, and language is one of the most important ways to communicate them. To limit ourselves to only the experiences of those who speak our language is to deprive ourselves of cultural perspectives that can otherwise be lost in translation. Language and culture are interrelated, and each is important to the other for true understanding. I want to teach a foreign language so I can also teach foreign cultures and continue to expand my horizons along with those of my students.
I've always loved Spanish. I started Education courses in my first year at Coe, and they've highly interested me, too, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized exactly why it was important to me to teach a foreign language. Had I not learned Spanish, I would have never known that man. We would have sat quietly in our seats, making assumptions about one another but never being able to really know. And I looked back at the past semester I spent in Costa Rica, the host family that became my own, and a foreign country that became familiar--I never would have known those people or their country had I not taken the time to learn another language.
The world is full of different cultures, ethnicities, and people, who have different ideas, beliefs, and values, and language is one of the most important ways to communicate them. To limit ourselves to only the experiences of those who speak our language is to deprive ourselves of cultural perspectives that can otherwise be lost in translation. Language and culture are interrelated, and each is important to the other for true understanding. I want to teach a foreign language so I can also teach foreign cultures and continue to expand my horizons along with those of my students.
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