I read today on another blog what Suze Orman said about teachers in the NYTimes Magazine a couple of weeks ago. I get the Sunday Times, but I hadn't had a chance to read that article before today. It's really less than a paragraph in a 5500 word piece, but the author characterizes Orman's opinion as follows:
...students can’t learn empowerment from people who aren’t empowered, and teachers, she says, are too underpaid ever to have any real self-worth. She told me: “When you are somebody scared to death of your own life, how can you teach kids to be powerful? It’s not something in a book — it ain’t going to happen that way.”
You can imagine that this has caused quite a stir in the teacher blogosphere: many voices have risen in rebuttal, but even so, I'd like to comment briefly...
...a roll of the eyes, a shake of the head, a sharp exhale, and now, back to work.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The End is Near
"What are we going to do for the end of the year?" one of my students asked me today. "Can we have a party?"
Maybe it's my personality, but I like the year to end with as little fuss as possible. (For the record I hate any good-byes, especially long ones.) If it were up to me, we would follow our regular schedule until the very last day, and then I could bid each class a warm farewell; perhaps instead of my usual, I had fun today-- thanks for your hard work and enjoy the rest of your day, I could substitute "this year" and "rest of your life" and call it a year.
Somewhere along the line though, the students have gotten the idea that June is a non-working month of celebration. Not only that, but since the advent of extensive standardized testing, they feel like they should be rewarded after each and every test, as well. Some teachers oblige, but I don't share this view. I believe that it's our job to help the kids understand what the tests are: simply a measure of what they know and can do, data that we will very likely use to figure out their placement and instruction. When we explain it that way, there's no reason for students to do anything other than their best, and there's no reason to look at the tests as anything but another day at school.
Maybe it's my personality, but I like the year to end with as little fuss as possible. (For the record I hate any good-byes, especially long ones.) If it were up to me, we would follow our regular schedule until the very last day, and then I could bid each class a warm farewell; perhaps instead of my usual, I had fun today-- thanks for your hard work and enjoy the rest of your day, I could substitute "this year" and "rest of your life" and call it a year.
Somewhere along the line though, the students have gotten the idea that June is a non-working month of celebration. Not only that, but since the advent of extensive standardized testing, they feel like they should be rewarded after each and every test, as well. Some teachers oblige, but I don't share this view. I believe that it's our job to help the kids understand what the tests are: simply a measure of what they know and can do, data that we will very likely use to figure out their placement and instruction. When we explain it that way, there's no reason for students to do anything other than their best, and there's no reason to look at the tests as anything but another day at school.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Examined Life
We kicked off the last week of our month of May Slice of Life Story Challenge today with a common text about Socrates and his famous quotation that, "the unexamined life is not worth living." Students worked in small discussion groups to figure out what Socrates may have meant by this and how in the world it might relate to the brief personal anecdotes we've been reading and writing all month.
In case I needed any reminding, probably the main thing I took from today's lesson was that kids are funny. Not one of them would have chosen death over an unexamined life. Living as they do in a land where free thought and free speech are a given and so often taken for granted, many of them could not fathom Socrates' choice. Why didn't he just choose exile and go examine his life somewhere else? They wondered.
Even so, I'm not very worried that they are lemmings in training. Too many expressed their annoyance at this silly idea of self-examination (offered as it was by their teacher) all too clearly for that. One girl opened her group discussion with, "If self-examination is so great, how come we've never heard of it before? Everybody knows that vitamins and positive thinking will improve your life, but self-examination? I don't think so."
At the end of each class, I asked two questions. The first was: How does this essay relate to what we have been doing this month? The most common answer to that one was always that this story was a slice of Socrates' life, but eventually each class made it around to the idea that the daily writing we've done has been an opportunity for us to examine our lives. My second question was, What's your opinion on the value of self-examination? On that one, they were mixed. More than one student told me that if you spend too much time examining, you'll miss out on the living. And, as true as that seems at 10:35 PM on this Tuesday night, I had to take exception and encourage them to always make time for the living AND the examining.
In case I needed any reminding, probably the main thing I took from today's lesson was that kids are funny. Not one of them would have chosen death over an unexamined life. Living as they do in a land where free thought and free speech are a given and so often taken for granted, many of them could not fathom Socrates' choice. Why didn't he just choose exile and go examine his life somewhere else? They wondered.
Even so, I'm not very worried that they are lemmings in training. Too many expressed their annoyance at this silly idea of self-examination (offered as it was by their teacher) all too clearly for that. One girl opened her group discussion with, "If self-examination is so great, how come we've never heard of it before? Everybody knows that vitamins and positive thinking will improve your life, but self-examination? I don't think so."
At the end of each class, I asked two questions. The first was: How does this essay relate to what we have been doing this month? The most common answer to that one was always that this story was a slice of Socrates' life, but eventually each class made it around to the idea that the daily writing we've done has been an opportunity for us to examine our lives. My second question was, What's your opinion on the value of self-examination? On that one, they were mixed. More than one student told me that if you spend too much time examining, you'll miss out on the living. And, as true as that seems at 10:35 PM on this Tuesday night, I had to take exception and encourage them to always make time for the living AND the examining.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Is Anybody Out There?
One of the top lessons any writing teacher plans for her students is on audience. "Consider your audience," we say. "Who are they and what do they want to know? Choose your words, details, and examples for them."
And, so, as it turns out, the most astute students try to write for their teacher, the one person they are sure will read their writing. (English teachers, we see the irony, right? How many pieces does the number one reader skim at the end of a very long day, desperately looking for something to comment on? Or worse, something to criticize? It's not that we don't care, kids, it's just that there are so many things to read...)
Audience is a tricky lesson, though. When my students share their writing with each other, the silliest, grossest, and most childish stuff is usually the most popular. I roll my eyes as I circulate through the room, but if they are writing for their peers-- 11- and 12-year-olds in this particular case-- how can I possibly be surprised? The audience LOVES it, even if I do not. What's the lesson there?
I don't know who I thought my audience was when I started writing and posting here. I guess I just didn't follow my own lesson plan. In the beginning, I was surprised that anyone was reading at all. Since then, I've pressed the link onto some and given it out upon request to others. I don't disillusion myself that a whole lot of people read what I write, but I know that some do, because they are kind enough to tell me so, either in writing or in person. As my audience has grown, so has my consideration of them evolved: do I really want to write that, if I know so-and-so may read it?
About a month ago, I gave the link to my blog to my nephew, and he took the time to read it. He wrote a very considerate reaction to it on his own blog. He's a thoughtful guy with some interesting friends, and I have reason to believe that some of them have taken the time to look at my blog, too. That's really cool, but it makes me think about what I write... many of these people are students in my school.
But, a blog is public, and I although I knew that when I started, I didn't understand it in quite the same way I do now. Clearly, there is a balance between honesty and discretion that any published writer must know how to negotiate (or learn to do so quickly), that a novice may not consider fully. What impact might such a recognition have on a writer? A friend asked me this today. I want to say, nothing of substance, but I'll have to wait and see.
And, so, as it turns out, the most astute students try to write for their teacher, the one person they are sure will read their writing. (English teachers, we see the irony, right? How many pieces does the number one reader skim at the end of a very long day, desperately looking for something to comment on? Or worse, something to criticize? It's not that we don't care, kids, it's just that there are so many things to read...)
Audience is a tricky lesson, though. When my students share their writing with each other, the silliest, grossest, and most childish stuff is usually the most popular. I roll my eyes as I circulate through the room, but if they are writing for their peers-- 11- and 12-year-olds in this particular case-- how can I possibly be surprised? The audience LOVES it, even if I do not. What's the lesson there?
I don't know who I thought my audience was when I started writing and posting here. I guess I just didn't follow my own lesson plan. In the beginning, I was surprised that anyone was reading at all. Since then, I've pressed the link onto some and given it out upon request to others. I don't disillusion myself that a whole lot of people read what I write, but I know that some do, because they are kind enough to tell me so, either in writing or in person. As my audience has grown, so has my consideration of them evolved: do I really want to write that, if I know so-and-so may read it?
About a month ago, I gave the link to my blog to my nephew, and he took the time to read it. He wrote a very considerate reaction to it on his own blog. He's a thoughtful guy with some interesting friends, and I have reason to believe that some of them have taken the time to look at my blog, too. That's really cool, but it makes me think about what I write... many of these people are students in my school.
But, a blog is public, and I although I knew that when I started, I didn't understand it in quite the same way I do now. Clearly, there is a balance between honesty and discretion that any published writer must know how to negotiate (or learn to do so quickly), that a novice may not consider fully. What impact might such a recognition have on a writer? A friend asked me this today. I want to say, nothing of substance, but I'll have to wait and see.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Holiday Weekend
What do Eat, Pray, Love, the movie, Angels and Demons, and the musical, Giant, all have in common? You'll never guess, so I'll just say... it's the Fountain of the Rivers. Sculpted by Bernini and located in Rome, this fountain is mentioned in all three of those works.
I saw Angels and Demons yesterday, and a pivotal scene takes place in the Piazza Navona, or rather more accurately, in the fountain itself. I found the movie more than a bit ludicrous, and therefore, disappointing, which is probably why, in the middle of what is supposed to be a very exciting part of the story, I was thinking, didn't Elizabeth Gilbert write about that fountain in her book?
Then, today, a family friend invited us to see a performance of the new musical, Giant, based on Edna Ferber's book, which is itself most famous for the movie version starring James Dean, Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor. This production is lengthy-- we're talking four hours, with two intermissions-- and I guess sprawling might be accurate. And did I mention, it's a musical? Anyhow, again in a rather dramatic scene, one of the characters refers to that fountain, she might even sing about it. Coincidence? Yeah. But I noticed, even though I was fading in and out a little from Texas musical fatigue, and then I remembered to check on the Eat, Pray, Love reference when I got home, and sure enough, there it was on page 74.
Why this synchronicity of Fontana dei Fiumi I wondered. What significance might it hold for me? So I thought a little, read a little, wrote a little, and... when I figure it out? You'll be the first to know.
I saw Angels and Demons yesterday, and a pivotal scene takes place in the Piazza Navona, or rather more accurately, in the fountain itself. I found the movie more than a bit ludicrous, and therefore, disappointing, which is probably why, in the middle of what is supposed to be a very exciting part of the story, I was thinking, didn't Elizabeth Gilbert write about that fountain in her book?
Then, today, a family friend invited us to see a performance of the new musical, Giant, based on Edna Ferber's book, which is itself most famous for the movie version starring James Dean, Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor. This production is lengthy-- we're talking four hours, with two intermissions-- and I guess sprawling might be accurate. And did I mention, it's a musical? Anyhow, again in a rather dramatic scene, one of the characters refers to that fountain, she might even sing about it. Coincidence? Yeah. But I noticed, even though I was fading in and out a little from Texas musical fatigue, and then I remembered to check on the Eat, Pray, Love reference when I got home, and sure enough, there it was on page 74.
Why this synchronicity of Fontana dei Fiumi I wondered. What significance might it hold for me? So I thought a little, read a little, wrote a little, and... when I figure it out? You'll be the first to know.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
What I Did
Immediately after I posted yesterday's entry, I picked up the phone and called my student's mom. Writing about it made me realize that I should talk to her.
I started the conversation in terms of touching base about the e-mail I had sent, since even though I had received the signed progress report, I didn't know for sure if she had seen the message. She had, and she thanked me for sending it and apologized for not responding sooner. She asked if her daughter had turned in the interim, and I told her yes.
From there I reported my concerns for the student, doing my best to be informative and without judgment. Sometimes, when a teacher calls home, parents react as if they are in trouble, too. As cooperative and appreciative as they usually are, there can also be an undercurrent of defensiveness about their parenting. I listened carefully to what she said. Her voice broke when she asked me if her daughter was getting into any other kind of trouble at school.
"No," I assured her. "No." And I promised to let her know if anything changed in the three weeks we have left of school. She thanked me again, and we hung up. I spun my desk chair around to look out the window. At five on a Friday afternoon, the parking lot was empty. I had done all three of the things I considered: I let the student handle it; I consulted the counselor, and I spoke to her mom, but I still didn't feel any better. Why should I? There's nothing to feel good about when nice people are going through hard times.
I started the conversation in terms of touching base about the e-mail I had sent, since even though I had received the signed progress report, I didn't know for sure if she had seen the message. She had, and she thanked me for sending it and apologized for not responding sooner. She asked if her daughter had turned in the interim, and I told her yes.
From there I reported my concerns for the student, doing my best to be informative and without judgment. Sometimes, when a teacher calls home, parents react as if they are in trouble, too. As cooperative and appreciative as they usually are, there can also be an undercurrent of defensiveness about their parenting. I listened carefully to what she said. Her voice broke when she asked me if her daughter was getting into any other kind of trouble at school.
"No," I assured her. "No." And I promised to let her know if anything changed in the three weeks we have left of school. She thanked me again, and we hung up. I spun my desk chair around to look out the window. At five on a Friday afternoon, the parking lot was empty. I had done all three of the things I considered: I let the student handle it; I consulted the counselor, and I spoke to her mom, but I still didn't feel any better. Why should I? There's nothing to feel good about when nice people are going through hard times.
Friday, May 22, 2009
What Would YOU Do? ...continued
At our school, forgery is taken very seriously, but to be honest, it's kind of a common misdeed. An eleven-year-old kid knows he's going to get in trouble for his grades, and since all adult signatures are just glorified scribbles anyway, he takes a shot at it, but once it's out of his hands and into the teacher's possession, you know he's sweating, and he should be, because no sixth grader is a good forger! We almost always catch them, and we don't even have to try that hard.
In this case, I knew that there were extenuating circumstances. My student's dad is battling a serious disease with a terminal diagnosis, and their family is going through all the emotional and financial upheaval that goes with such a sad situation. When I asked to speak to her privately, she seemed like she knew what I was going to say. I handed her the progress report and said, "I need a real signature on this by tomorrow."
There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. "I know," she answered. Her grades weren't that bad-- a couple of Bs and some Cs, but they weren't what we all knew she was capable of, and she was missing assignments from several classes. In my estimation, there were two issues: she didn't want to worry her parents with her lower-than-usual grades, but she didn't want to get in trouble for them, either.
"You have to let your parents know what's going on with you," I said. "I understand they have a lot on their minds, but I also know that supporting you is a priority for them, too."
She shook her head. "No, no, no," she said, more to herself than to me. She reached for the sheet of paper I held in my hand and said, "I'll bring this in tomorrow." We both had classes to get to, and I offered her a pass to the restroom to wash her face, but she just rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and went on to first period.
I knew that I didn't want to refer this incident as a disciplinary issue, but I wasn't sure what I should do instead. Cut the kid some slack and let it go? Tell the counselor? Call home?
Yesterday afternoon, I mentioned the episode to the counselor. She told me that she has offered support to this student many times, but the girl always says she's fine and doesn't need to talk. The counselor also said that this kid's feeling that her weak grades and forgery would overwhelm her parents at this point is probably right on target. They are in a fragile place right now, especially her mom. Later on, I e-mailed a reminder home about the progress report, but without mention of the forgery, so I was pretty sure that she would bring me the signed interim this morning, and she did. Does my responsibility end there?
I don't want to upset people who are struggling already, but their daughter has been pushed to the point of forgery. It's not even that I'm concerned about her grades so much as the stress she must be feeling to make such a poor choice. Shouldn't her parents at least have that information to do with as they can? Who am I to keep something like that from them? And who am I to decide what they can and cannot handle, especially when it comes to their child?
In this case, I knew that there were extenuating circumstances. My student's dad is battling a serious disease with a terminal diagnosis, and their family is going through all the emotional and financial upheaval that goes with such a sad situation. When I asked to speak to her privately, she seemed like she knew what I was going to say. I handed her the progress report and said, "I need a real signature on this by tomorrow."
There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. "I know," she answered. Her grades weren't that bad-- a couple of Bs and some Cs, but they weren't what we all knew she was capable of, and she was missing assignments from several classes. In my estimation, there were two issues: she didn't want to worry her parents with her lower-than-usual grades, but she didn't want to get in trouble for them, either.
"You have to let your parents know what's going on with you," I said. "I understand they have a lot on their minds, but I also know that supporting you is a priority for them, too."
She shook her head. "No, no, no," she said, more to herself than to me. She reached for the sheet of paper I held in my hand and said, "I'll bring this in tomorrow." We both had classes to get to, and I offered her a pass to the restroom to wash her face, but she just rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and went on to first period.
I knew that I didn't want to refer this incident as a disciplinary issue, but I wasn't sure what I should do instead. Cut the kid some slack and let it go? Tell the counselor? Call home?
Yesterday afternoon, I mentioned the episode to the counselor. She told me that she has offered support to this student many times, but the girl always says she's fine and doesn't need to talk. The counselor also said that this kid's feeling that her weak grades and forgery would overwhelm her parents at this point is probably right on target. They are in a fragile place right now, especially her mom. Later on, I e-mailed a reminder home about the progress report, but without mention of the forgery, so I was pretty sure that she would bring me the signed interim this morning, and she did. Does my responsibility end there?
I don't want to upset people who are struggling already, but their daughter has been pushed to the point of forgery. It's not even that I'm concerned about her grades so much as the stress she must be feeling to make such a poor choice. Shouldn't her parents at least have that information to do with as they can? Who am I to keep something like that from them? And who am I to decide what they can and cannot handle, especially when it comes to their child?
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