If I Had a Dollar...

So, I'm having a normal evening conversation with a dear friend from college--the usual "What'd you do today? How's work? What're you eating for dinner?"--and I mention that the last day of school is right around the corner. Cue the most cliche statement teachers deal with this time of the year:

And then you get 3 whole months off!

Puh-leeze. If I had a dollar for every time I've heard someone say that, I'd have enough to treat you to a fancy dinner and fill up your car at the gas station! Of course, I know that my friend meant well, but it got me thinking about a few of the misconceptions about teachers I've heard over the years: 

Miconception: Teachers have three months of summer vacation time. 

Truth (according to Miss Boyd): Many teachers elect to teach summer school and others attend professional development seminars/conferences over summer vacation. Additionally, teachers may catch up on reading the newest educational book, work a second job, or plan/reconstruct/write curriculum for the upcoming school year. I spend my summers coaching, working on my classroom, retooling my instructional practices, and meeting with colleagues. I think the bottom line here is that teachers work all 12 months. We just have students for 9 of 'em.

Misconception: Teaching the primary grades (K-2) is easy.
Truth (According to Miss Boyd): This is a tricky one for me. Most of my friends say, "Oh, I could never teach a primary grade! I don't know how you do it--I don't have the patience." I'm sure that sounds like they empathize with my job, but I think it makes me sound like a baby-sitter. I've never had a friend or family member ask me, "Wow, so how do you teach the basics to a young student? I bet it's really difficult to help them understand something that seems so simple to an adult." The truth is, teaching a primary grade stretches your mind--not your patience--to the limit. Teaching a small child is like putting pieces of a puzzle together. Each piece gets me closer to creating a picture of how that child thinks, processes, feels, and behaves. While I'm concerned about maintaining a behavioral "status quo," I feel that if you address academic needs first, the behavior often falls into place. Baby-sitting, shmaby-sitting.

Misconception: Young teachers are inexperienced.
Truth (According to Miss Boyd): It's all about how we define "experience." Does experience mean you've taught at least 10 years? Does experience mean you've taught a diverse group of students in a wide variety of schools? Does experience mean you've been trained in an array of methodologies and instructional practices? Or does experience mean you know how to do something cool I don't even know about yet? Personally, I think it's impossible to judge a teacher's experience solely on his or her chronological age. We're always searching for a way to quantify a teacher's experience to reassure ourselves that a teacher knows his or her "stuff." And, of course, I think that the aforementioned criteria is important but points to even more important standards--Does the teacher understand his or her craft? Does he or she adapt well? Can he or she confidently make decisions based on best practices? A definitive "yes" to these questions overrides any doubt about quantitative experience.


...of course these are only a few of the many misconceptions I hear from non-teacher acquaintances, but they are some of the "greatest hits." Happy Summer!  

Teach Me Somethin' Tuesday

This week we begin learning about what I consider to be the "underdog" of math curriculum: probability. Talk about a concept that's often pushed aside, watered down, and forgotten about! It always seems to be the last on the list of math items to teach, it's rarely assessed in standardized tests, and goes little beyond the "colored marbles in a bag" realm. But I'm here to tell you that even though I'm teaching about it in the last part of the year, probability holds the top spot in my math heart!

As a student, I loved probability because it didn't seem as cut and dry as the other math concepts. Numbers and operations, geometry, measurement, they appealed to the kids who were satisfied with applying a formula to arrive at the right answers the first time. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated getting a correct answer just as much as the next kiddo, but there was something so intriguing about probability. I totally dug the idea that while I could predict the most likely outcome, there was a small chance that it (whatever "it" was) would go the other way. For me, probability was the "wild child" or "rogue" of the math world--it appealed to my brain. (Disclaimer: With progressive movements in the educational field, however, I do feel that all mathematical concepts can be just as intriguing with the right instructional approach). 

I still feel the same way about probability as an adult and I don't think I'm the only one. Our culture is crazy about probability. It comes up more frequently in conversation than the other math concepts I teach about. I mean, look at all the hysteria over the Mega-Millions lottery...We couldn't go five minutes without hearing that we were more likely to be struck by lightning than win the lotto. But people still bought tickets, didn't they?

So I thought I'd search the Khan Academy website to polish up on my probability knowledge. Of course, I got hooked on their entire probability section. I've attached the first video from the probability series. It's super easy but the videos start to get reeeeeallly tricky after the first few.

ITBS: I Teach Beyond Standardized (testing)

Let's get one thing straight--I am reminded on a daily basis how lucky I am to be at my current school. But this week I'm grateful on another level: it's ITBS testing week.

Our school chooses to use standardized testing for exactly the reason it was created: to measure specific academic skills and to gain information about students and classes for instructional planning.

Trust me, this is an absolute rarity in the education world. In public schools, standardized tests are required as part of the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB). Without going into too much detail, NCLB requires that states carry out annual testing for public education and more importantly, that each classroom, school, and district within each state shows "adequate yearly progress" (AYP) toward a proficiency goal.

In Missouri, proficient means scoring an 80% on a standardized test--equivalent to a B grade. Each year the schools are required to meet a certain "goal" of proficiency. Last year it was 75%. Now, here's the rub:

That's not a 75% average, that's 75% of a class/school/district scoring proficient on a test. 

So 75% of my 24 students last year (18 kiddos) needed to earn a "B" grade on the state test. My class score was combined with the other 3 classes in third grade to determine whether we "met" or "didn't meet" our AYP goal.

I could argue that it's unfair, that our kids were behind one or more grade levels to begin with, or that the testing material was culturally and economically biased, but I'd really like to explore the level of anxiety teachers face about standardized testing:

Everyone, everywhere experiences some level of "on the job anxiety." I think it's just part of being an adult. But these days, many public school teachers fear for their jobs because of the NCLB testing. I remember starting my mandated after-school tutoring for the MAP test (Missouri's standardized test) in October....the test isn't until APRIL! I heard horror stories about teachers fired over the summer after their dismal test scores surfaced. Being the perfectionist that I am, I worried myself sick over the test. I knew that the two weeks in April meant more to keeping my job than the entire rest of the year. And trust me, I'm not the only one. This type of anxiety can make amazing teachers doubt their talents, change their methods of teaching to "fit the testing style," and greatly reduce instructional time for developing skills such as reading fluency and expression, which aren't measured through standardized testing.

That's why I am unbelievably grateful to teach at a place that celebrates real education and learning over a standardized test. Sure, it's a valuable measurement tool we use to gather information about our students. But we care about SO much more here. And truthfully, it shows. Our students are capable of so much more than performing well on a test!

The Power of No

Last school year I sat down for coffee with a parent of one of my most rambunctious students ever. Our conversation started out as a brainstorming session on behavior interventions for this particular student, but soon shifted to a philosophical dialogue on the power of language.

She told me that over the years, her student--often classified as a troublemaker--frequently heard "Don't do this, don't do that, stop it, etc." from teachers, administrators, and even family members. She argued that the word NO "just didn't work" for her student.

She continued on by explaining that as we speak, our brains create mental images to go along with the words we hear. For instance, if you hear, "She went on a bike ride today," your brain would produce an image of a bike, a woman on a bike, a bike trail, etc. When you use the word no (or any type of negative) in a sentence, your brain is unable to create an image of nothing. In essence, your mind goes blank. She explained that when we tell our children what not to do, they have no mental representation for the action. 

It blew my mind! It made total sense...what a simple way to look at classroom management. If I'm telling students "Stop talking, no pushing, or don't run," I'm negatively impacting their ability to carry out those tasks. However, if I replace the negative command with a positive statement, my students are able to create a mental image and carry out the task as they see it in their minds.

This goes beyond putting things into positive terms (which I'm all for, by the way). This means changing the way I think and speak to improve student achievement.

On a related note, I'm interested in reading the book Opening Minds: Using Language to Change Lives. That is, once I finish Awakened and Pedagogy of the Oppressed.

Confession

Let me preface this blog entry (blentry?) by apologizing for the frantic tone--I'm writing this in the last fifteen minutes of my plan time right before the subject of my entry is set to take place. 

I am terrified of symmetry!

There seems to be one or two topics (especially in math) out there that a teacher gets really nervous about teaching. For me, that's symmetry. It's one of those concepts that seems really easy in my head but is mad difficult to explain to an 8-year-old. 

Like a rectangle, for instance. It has the vertical and horizontal line of symmetry, but explaining that a doggone diagonal line doesn't work as a line of symmetry...for me, it's like explaining rocket science. I don't know if I was sick the day my college professors taught "Symmetry: Revealed" or maybe I was just doodling "Miss Boyd," on the back of my notebooks, but somehow, I developed a nervous "tick" when it comes to this subject. Honestly, I think it's that we spent so much time in college talking about students' misconceptions that I worry about setting my students up to misunderstand concepts.  

Four years later I've developed a strong sense of confidence as a teacher, but I think the fear still lingers. It's silly, really, but I think a good educator should admit to weak spots in his or her instructional practices and learn from past mistakes. So in five minutes time, I'm ready to churn out the most rockin' lesson possible and make symmetry shake in its boots. 

Wish me luck! 

Mr. Clean

CLEAN DESKS MATTER! 

We started writing this morning and as I walked around the classroom, I could sense that something was amiss.  Normally, my students are hard workers, but today, it just felt different. They were moving and shaking--their squirming was audible. I thought to myself, "What in tarnation is going on here?" as I paced around the room. 

And then it hit me.

No really. A folder from someone's desk hit my foot on its fall from grace. I stopped to inspect what could have been a scene from Hoarders, Junior Edition. This desk was so overstuffed that my mere presence created enough of a wind current to send its contents flying. I looked around and almost every desk looked the same way. 

Uh, helloooo? Where have I been? 

How could I let these desks get so messy?

Well, for starters, it isn't always high on my list of priorities. We move so fast and cover so much each day that we don't always have time to keep things organized and neat in our desks. Also, I'm not too strict on desk organization--if they know where items are and can located them quickly, I'm okay with that. 

But TODAY was another story. I stopped the entire class and called for an emergency desk intervention. We spent 15 minutes purging our desks, ridding them of unwanted scraps, graded papers that should have gone home weeks ago, and god-awful pencil shavings.  

I tell you what, after those 15 minutes of organized chaos, it felt so different in my classroom. We got back to work--you could have heard a pin drop. 

Never underestimate the power of cleaning. 

Agent of Change

I came across this article today:

Judge rules Paterson, N.J. teacher Jennifer O'Brien can be fired for Facebook comments

Before I dig in, I have a small problem with O'Brien posting negative things about her school/students/career on a social media site. Next time she should write it down in her journal instead of assaulting my eyeballs with her negative viewpoints about our noble profession.

Now to the BIG point:

At first, I was indignant about her comment that she was a "warden for future criminals." I thought, How could she limit her students like that? But honestly, after I got to thinking about it, I realized the only person she was limiting was herself. I almost feel sorry for teachers with that mindset.

And trust me, I came across my fair share of teachers (during my first year of teaching) who think the same way as Ms. O'Brien. It's not exactly an isolated opinion.

I mean, just think about it. How pointless would your job seem if you believed that your students' futures were already decided? You couldn't be an agent of change. I've felt like an agent of change in every single school and classroom I've taught in, no matter the demographic. But that's because I believe in the students. I trust that they have an exciting and unexpected journey ahead of them. Of course, it's fun to guess their future profession (I once imagined that one of my first graders would be a t.v. meteorologist--he was such a snappy dresser), but I leave it at that.

I was pleased to learn--in later reports--that the aforementioned teacher was dismissed from her position as a first grade teacher.