I'm finding more and more that my thoughts about school are so intertwined with my thoughts about life that there's no point in having two separate blogs, which is why I've stopped writing in this. Unless and until that changes, please check out http://dor.blogspot.com

 
Actually, here's another important topic. Should students be segregated by ability?

I believe that the "we can move faster with an honors class" is pointless. Okay, you get to do two more chapters. So what? What kind of a difference will that make in a kid's life? Will it even raise his math SAT score? For that matter, will it give him a better understanding of math fundamentals, or the study skills that he can use in the future in other classes?

There is no question that tracking hurts those students in the lower tracks. However, from my recent experience with a large class run by TAs, I believe that tracking may hurt top students just as much by denying them an opportunity to assume greater responsibility. Of course, what needs to happen concurrently is a class management system where competition is de-emphasized and some of the teacher's rights and responsibilities are spread out among the TAs.

Lorenzo asked me a great question today: "What easier problem can I give them so they'll understand this one?" Later on, he checked his work in the teacher's edition and fixed his mistake.

I love watching my TAs work. I love how serious they get. Some of the same students who were bored underachievers a few weeks ago are now stretching their intellect to grasp new material quickly and explain it to others. They are also becoming more and more independent from me, which fills me with a weird mixture of pride and disappointment. That must be what parents feel like when their kids leave!

As far as the other kids, they benefit in two ways. First of all, we all agree that the room is more quiet and people are paying more attention to the TAs than they did to me. Basically, a 16-year old TA teaching 2 or 3 students is better than a 25-year old experienced teacher trying to deal with 30 kids at once. Second, some of my groups choose to rotate, and I am scheming to get more people into explaining things to others, so they can all feel some pride and practice responsibility.

I think that is the key to what I am teaching my TAs - responsibility. They are not learning math for a grade; in fact, I don't know if this system would work if I gave grades. They are learning math because other people depend on them.

 
We had a schoolwide rally this Thursday, and the two things that stood out for me were the enthusiasm of the students and the disorganized way it was run.

First of all, I don't think more than half of my school's 1700 students actually fit in the bleachers, so many of them were sitting on the ground. They were loud, and I mean LOUD. The loudspeaker was no competition for their combined voices, even when good hip-hop music was being played. When that happened, many students would jump up and start dancing. They had a great feel for the music, it was really a pleasure to watch. For the dance demonstrations that were actually planned, it was even better. Janine, one of my students, seemed to lead the cheerleaders, and she also represented the seniors in the "dance-off" that closed off the show. I think every teacher should make an effort to see every one of their students doing something they're good at; I've always liked Janine, but after seeing her perform, I have a newfound respect for her.

I don't even really want to talk about the wasted time and speakers who couldn't make themselves heard, actually. The rally was definitely a good thing. And to think that I gave a lot of thought to just leaving early! I was tired and stressed for other reasons. Although it didn't run smoothly, I will definitely have some long-lasting memories from that rally.

Comparing this to the quite, well-run rallies I used to see at Bellarmine, I wonder if it's even possible to have an enthusiastic, completely organized rally. Perhaps in Japan? It seems like private schools do a better job of providing a structure at rallies, but perhaps this external (or even worse, internalized) need for structure is also what kills the spirit at rallies and beyond. I remember how disappointed I was while a student at Bellarmine. I was expecting some brotherhood, all boys school, an athletic tradition to be proud of... Nothing. Rallies were pathetic, few students came to cross-country meets and soccer or waterpolo games. Not that sports attendance is any better at this public school; it's actually worse, because fewer teachers and much fewer parents attend, in my brief experience.

But if they did, I'm sure they'd be louder.

 
The student I wrote about earlier, Andrea, almost got me in trouble last week.

At the beginning of every 3rd period, announcements are read over the loudspeakers, meaning the not-so-loud speaker-phone. It's been hard to get every student to be quiet, since most of the announcements are pointless and since I don't really want to be a "do this or else" kind of teacher.

Well, Andrea wanted to hear the announcements, and she got mad at Carlos for talking. Carlos threw some gas on the fire, and soon enough she started a profanity-laced tirade. While she has never done anything quite like it, Andrea is certainly a bit volatile, and just the day before she spend half the period away from the group, with her head on the desk. I didn't want to force her to work on math, so I let her be.

Anyway, by the time I walked over to her group to quiet her down, our new vice-principal in charge of discipline, who happened to be walking by my room, was standing in the open door. "I want a referral on my desk today, with exactly what she said. This is not allowed here." Embarassed as hell, I started telling him about my attempts, mostly successful, to have Andrea be a part of the group and actually learn something. I told him I had established a good relationship with her and I don't want to ruin it. Eventually, he gave up his request for a referral, but not before chewing Andrea out for a few minutes outside. I don't think she was all that impressed.

To make sure I have a good relationship with the VP, I remembered to thank him for letting me deal with my student my own way the next time I saw him. He was all smiles, very far from the self-righteous, domineering figure that had been standing in my doorway not that long ago. The thing is, we either need more people like him so we can run the school like a tight ship, or else an entirely different set of people who are worried less about curriculums and mandatory education, and more about providing kids. Since the latter scenario is still a dream except in some places, I guess my school might be a better place because of people like him and our new dean.

One last funny anecdote about the same VP is that he lectured my colleague Brad on allowing two students to go to the restroom at the same time. "You've got to think like they do. One kid to the bathroom is okay, two is trouble."

 
I've been reading a book by Susan Ohanian called "One Size Fits Few: The Folly of Educational Standards." It is a very well-written and well-argued book, easy to read because of the anecdotal style. It is also very powerful; some times it makes me feel like crying, other times like fighting.

She talks a lot about the value of liking kids. She claims that each student is unique and should not be subjugated to the almighty standardized test: "To barter the present lives of young children for some promise of future job security is a delusion and a fraud."

She also mentioned what will probably be my favorite saying for some time: "For every Ph.D. there is an equal and opposite Ph.D." This expresses some of the frustration I feel about having to read useles articles just because some education Ph.D. wrote it. Incidentally, some of the best education writing comes from other fields: historians, psychologists, media professors and so on.

Speaking of media people, I have found one persistent thread between the writings of Neil Postman and Ohanian. They both argue that the writer's story about one individual can be just as powerful and true a representation of the world as the social scientist's statistical study. As someone who started out as a slave to logic, I can appreciate the difference and the richness of trying to learn a lot about several kids, as opposed to quantifying and comparing all of them.

 
The past few days have seen a remarkable change happen in my classes, especially in my 40-student first period class. I decided to delegate some responsibility to a few chosen TAs, or group leaders. I have concluded that trying to explain something to 40 students just won't work. Having the class in a computer lab doesn't help either, but I like it, they love it and it does give us more options and flexibility.

So, my plan is to explain everything new to the 9 TAs. I am using the little whiteboards and dry erase markers everyday so we can share information as a group readily. When they get it, they go back to their group and give the same explanation. I also coach them on how to teach, and it's amazing to me how quickly they have learned to come up with their own examples, find a simpler problem and so on.

What I love best about this process is seeing some of my students at their best. There is no thought about grades, or about getting by. They are completely entranced in the challenge of teaching. I plan to ask them for feedback on monday, but I can tell they like it. I can also tell that the other kids are much more attentive. I am almost jealous - how come I don't get that type of captive audience? I think the key is that in a group off three to five, they can actually ask questions and get individual attention.

There have been some surprises. One TA decided she couldn't do the job, and luckily another student joined her group and took charge. Other groups, in my 3rd and 4th period, decided to send a new student to be the TA each day. This definitely takes care of the inequity concern, and it allows everyone to work in the situation they find most comfortable.

So these days, if you come into my classroom you will see students working together, at least 6 or 7 conversations about math, people explaining things to each other. I hope it lasts.

 
Second period today, someone set off a cherry bomb. It was on the second floor, same as my 2nd period Advanced Computers Class. Most kids just laughed it off, some wanted to go outside and check it out. I did my best to get them back inside the classroom. We didn't actually know what was going on until our principal came over the PA system at the end of the day to remind everyone that it's not a good idea to bring fireworks to school (is that what a cherry bomb is? honestly, I have no idea). She also offered a reward for any information about who set it off. She said the guilty student would be expelled.

The problem is, as I recently found out, there are only four offenses that carry an automatic suspension: carrying a weapon, brandishing a knife, sexual assault or harrassment and selling drugs. Not on the list: threatening school employees or fellow students, fighting, having drugs and, my favorite omitted item, arson. "We'll let you set the school on fire once," they say. "But you'll have to face an expulsion hearing, and if you do it again you're out of here for sure."

 
In an earlier post, I mentioned how one of my math students had some issues with her former computer teacher, whose classroom I use for one period now (it used to be three). Her problem was that he yelled at her and made her feel stupid for asking lots of questions abouth things she didn't understand. He even told her that maybe this wasn't the right school for her - we have had a good reputation as an "academic" high school.

Well, yesterday I had the kind of interaction with the same teacher that made me want to quit my job. I will skip the details, it involves the issues that come up when three people share a classroom. The point is, he yelled at me and made me feel like an eight-year old kid. This was not the first time he snapped at me, and I have been told that's just the way he is. He can be the greatest guy one moment, which I can confirm (he let me borrow his education book, the one I have been describing), and when he's angry he's a different person.

This feels dumb, but I can't talk to him. Instead, I asked my department head to be our go-between. So, from now on, my colleague will put down his complaints in writing and pass them on to the department head.

As for my complaints, fewer in number no doubt? Well, I always figure that it's been his classroom in the past, he's busy and stressed as we all are, so I didn't even mention them. Why make a tough job even tougher, right?

 
I like to have students challenge me. Today, it happened twice.

First of all, in my 3rd period, S. got mad at me. I was putting up problems on the board for groups to solve, and since one group finished the given sequence right away, I went to the board to put up a more difficult one for them to work with - while the other groups were still somewhat struggling with the basic arithmetic and geometric ones. S's point was that I should wait and explain the first sequences at the board before giving new ones, because that one group was "getting ahead." She was doing this while I was actually coming up with the new example and walking over to the board to write it down and trying to explain myself to her. She got frustrated and said something like "okay, you're the teacher, we'll just do what you tell us." Which is not my style at all, as she probably knows.

So after putting up the new sequence, I went back to her group and, in 4-5 minutes which alternated between education philosophy and sequences, we got along again and they finally understood how to find the missing term of a geometric sequence. The argument was - she wanted me to do the problem on the board again (I have been working out similar sequences on the board for days). I wanted her to understand how much easier it is to work with a 4:1 ratio, instead of 31:1. At first, she said I could do the same thing with the whole class that I did with her group. I don't think she had realized how much we had interacted in order for all of them to understand. At the end of class, she came up to me and said she understood.

She also understood that while I spend 5 minutes straight with her group, I was ignoring the rest of the class, and I cannot do that always or even often. This actually led me to a new idea, which is actually not that new in college classes and education literature. I wanted to split up my 40-person group into 4-6 groups, each with a TA or group leader who learns each skill in advance directly from me, in a small group, and then takes the responsibility to teach it to the other kids, with me as a last resort. We talked about it for a bit and they answered some questions for me. In my large 1st period, the idea was greeted with enthusiasm.

In my 4th period, which has fewer students, it wasn't a burning issue, but the questionnaire was already written on the board, so I thought I would let them decide if it was worth trying. Other than two girls, everyone wanted to try it. One of the questions I had asked were potential problems, and it came out that they were worried about the unfairness of the TA's grade (which I said would be an automatic A unless he/she is impeached by the group). So we talked it over, I asked more about their concern - was it that the TA would do less work? My guess would be that a TA would do more work. Should we have them not take quizzes, but receive the average of their students' quizzes? Too harsh, they said. What's the real issue here? That they could potentially slack off? Well, I reminded them that the TA could be replaced by the group. But will we have someone to take his/her place? Sure, I told them that more than half the class answered that they would like to be considered for the job. So they were happy and went to lunch.

The moral... I don't know, now that I'm writing it down it seems like I may have been leading my students down a predetermined path, because they saw things my way in the end. But perhaps the key is that I listened, and when they left my class, they definitely left at peace and in a good mood. And when I say I listened, at least on a conscious level I was certainly open to their ideas. For my two 4th period girls, if they were still unhappy with the TA idea, I was ready to scrap it. For S., I could see things from her point of view, I could feel the frustration of being "left behind."

Maybe the key word I'm looking for is empathy. I heard a KPFA host today wishing that Bush could picture his daughters in Baghdad when our planes bomb it, instead of an innocent Iraqi's daughters. This was in response to a caller who said she would pray that the prez picked up growing his own organic food as a hobby, so he could see the value in not poisoning the soil. So I thought about how, if there was only one thing, one value we could teach in school, empathy might be it. My old English teacher called it "parallax" - the ability to see something from more than one perspective at the same time, which is what allows us to use our two eyes and gain depth perception.

I wonder how many politicians have the ability to empathize with their voters. Maybe we should start with teachers though, they might be a little easier to convince...

 
Today in my credential class, I had a strong disagreement with another student. I realize I won't change anyone's mind by stating my opinions in strong terms and arguing (thanks, Dale Carnegie!), but somehow on this issue I couldn't help it. She said she has a pet peeve against students who ask her if they can listen to their headphones while doing individual work. So I just asked her why. Personally, I will listen to music while I read - usually instrumental, sometimes not. Her argument was that listening to music is distracting. To whom? Well, to her, that's for sure. Someone else chimed in that research has shown that this generation of kids can actually concentrate more easily on doing more than one thing at a time. So she got to what I felt was the meat of her argument: "Well, you know how kids are, if you give them an inch, they want..."

So that's what it's all about. It's about control. It's not about how to set up the best environment for them to learn, at least being open to different ideas and testing them out. School to her is a zero sum game; if the student wins, the teacher loses. How sad is that? Sometimes I decry my students' attitude; how come they would always treat me like I'm their enemy, when I sincerely want to help them and be on their side? Well, as long as most teachers share my classmate's feelings, which I'm pretty sure is the case, how can my students not sense that and react in kind?

To be fair, I teach older and therefore "good" students, meaning compliant. The one or two outliers do drive me up the wall and have me pulling out the old-style domineering teacher's manual, so to speak. Sometimes, what I end up thinking and saying scares me, because it contradicts my philosophy. I don't know what the answer is with "those" kids.

What I do know, though, is that in my 4th period algebra class, which we hold in a computer lab, two of my students pop a CD into their iMac and listen to soft music (without headphones). The level is low enough that it doesn't bother me. When I walk to their part of the room to talk to someone, they lower it even more. They get their work done and participate in class as much as anyone. So why the hell should I tell them they can't do it? Just because it's probably against some school rule?

Another related topic came up in my 1st period algebra, also taught in the same computer lab but with 40 students on the rollsheet, instead of 21. I have asked if we should move back to a regular classroom, because the distractions are definitely affecting some of my students (though definitely not most). The best argument I heard for not moving back was very simple: "We enjoy being in the lab and surfing the web and checking e-mail when we're done with our work". What is wrong with having kids enjoy school, or at least a few minutes of it?

 
In the third article, "Language Diversity in Learning," Delpit keeps her promise to reveal the other side of her position. Yes, it is important to teach basic skills, but not through decontextualized routines.

She quotes studies in which most teachers will correct the form of a child's speech instead of the substance and questions the wisdom of this approach. Since English is not a phonetic language, it might be easier to teach Standard English through writing.

She gives two different examples, both funny and both sad, about how she and another professor can confuse and embarrass the hell out of their education students by constantly correcting their speech in two made-up dialects (Delpit added -iz after the first consonant in each syllable, Robert Berdan made up "Atlantis English" from an amalgam of regional dialects). The results are the same and the point is made: paying attention to explicit grammatical rules is really tough while speaking. Short-term, the students make mistakes and appear to know less than they actually do. Long-term, they hate reading and the drilled dialect.

The alternative Delpit offers is playing Standard English games, memorizing plays, putting on news shows. That way, the focus is not on the child's language and the child's mistakes; it's Dan Rather who makes the errors.

 
I found an interesting article on the web, by mistake, while looking for information on Lisa Delpit. The author worked with a Mexican-American second-grader in a multicultural school, and this is what she had to say at the end.

"In the future, I hope I teach in a diverse school of children. I have become jealous of these kids in a way. They get to experience so much of the world from their international friends. The children of Barrow have the opportunity to realize how human we all are, despite our backgrounds. All of those children want to feel special no matter how different they might be from one another. As a parent, I can imagine taking my child to a school like Barrow elementary and standing next to some other parents that seem wary of the large difference in culture between the children. I will feel much more comfortable taking my child there, because I see that there are unique benefits. My child would have a greater understanding of other cultures and a more diverse group of friends."

I've never looked at it this way, but public school is clearly better than white private schools in this respect. You don't talk about diversity, you live it. Of course, the author is optimistic and oversimplifying things, but if other issues are taken care of, the mere presence of different cultures can be a huge benefit.

 
"A lot of people believe they're thinking when, in fact, they're just rearranging their prejudices."

I used to think that phrase did not apply to me, at least when it comes to education. I mean, I ask a lot of questions, I think deeply... Well, after reading part of "Other People's Children", I can see that this is not entirely so. This is a rare book that makes me question everything, a book that has the potential to change my teaching style and my life.

Lisa Delpit, the author, is an African-American education professor who studies the education of minorities. She makes two main points in the articles I have read, both of them apparently controversial. The first one has to do with technique. She says that kids who do not get the keys to mainstream culture at home should be able to get them at school, so they can fit into the power culture. Learning the necessary skills is just as important as self-discovery. The second point is more philosophical, and it seems like people ignore her warning that this second point is more important than the first. She points out that white liberal educators generally decide what is best for minority students without consulting them first, and any solution to educational problems needs to start with dialogue.

Is this relevant to my classroom? Painfully so.

She advocates a transparent education philosophy, meaning you talk to your kids about what you're doing in class and why. This is something I have wanted to do for some time, but I haven't yet had the time or the guts. "If such explicitness is not provided to students," she points out, "what it feels like to people who are old enough to judge is that there are secrets being kept, that time is being wasted, that the teacher is abdicating his or her duty to teach." I have heard the same message from my students and dismissed it -- they are just socialized to rely on a teacher instead of learning on their own. I think I need to listen even more closely.

While I still have no interest in being the source of knowledge in the classroom, this is not what Lisa Delpit advocates. I look forward to reading the 3rd article in the first section of the book, which she promises will restore the balance to her view and show that she is not a conservative in a liberal's sheepskin.

The main problem I have with Delpit is that she seems resigned to accept the current power structure. She actually states that it can only be changed top-down, and in the meantime we need to help poor kids get a piece of the pie. This got me thinking on a different tangent. I have taught at four schools, two for rich white kids and two for poor minorities. Would you like to guess which two had business programs and no public service? Or which two had public service but no business? If we teach young people they must first join the system before working to change it, how many will actually make it to the second phase? For that matter, how many will complete the first phase? There are many more "loser" slots in society than "winner" slots, and someone has to fill them.

To me, bottom-up is the best way to effect change. "Reforms come from below; no man with four aces howls for a new deal" (Stu Reller). The question remains, how much mainstream culture does someone need to assimilate before being able to do something? I can see arguments for both "not much" and "a lot." An even better question might be, what is the purpose of assimilating into mainstream culture? I suspect that most kids and families do it in order to improve their socioeconomic status, not to prepare themselves for dissent. This is exactly what school and society encourage and support.