At this time of the school year, everyone is really busy. Eight weeks out from summer vacation, there is a full slate of assignments and activities as every teacher and club sponsor pours it on for the big finish. With so many other things going on, it was hardly surprising then, that we only had four kids show up for Tolerance Club today.
None of them had been able to attend the showing of Bully that we had arranged yesterday, so we showed a few clips from the movie and talked about it with them. The most explicit footage in the film was shot on a school bus, and as I've written before, the images are appalling but not surprising to anyone who spends a lot of time with adolescent kids. Both times I saw the movie, the way the kids bully and brutalize Alex on the bus made people cry in the theater.
Today, when the clip ended, two of the girls who were there exchanged glances with eyebrows raised. "Do you guys think we have a bullying problem here at our school?" I asked. After a pause, they went on to describe an ongoing episode that sounded just as disturbing as the one on the screen.
"We told him to stop," one girl said, and I believed her.
"And I told his mother, too," she added, "but he still does it."
Oh, we got some names and details, and congratulated the girls for coming forward, and hopefully, our school will deal with this issue effectively.
And yet, ultimately, doesn't this story just demonstrate how insidious the problem really is?
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
In the Real World
So often these days in education we justify certain practices by telling ourselves and our students, "Hey, that's how it is in the real world." And indeed, it is our job as educators to prepare them for the challenges that will face them once they are finished with school.
And yet... isn't that particular argument so broad as to be practically meaningless, especially since we can apply it as creatively as we like? For example, in our school, kids are not allowed to chew gum. In the real world, gum chewing is fine, but perhaps not appropriate in every situation. On the other hand, the real world is full of rules that we may not agree with, (leash your dog, follow the speed limit) and there are consequences for not following them (if you get caught).
Maybe that's the lesson? (But will it be on the test?)
And yet... isn't that particular argument so broad as to be practically meaningless, especially since we can apply it as creatively as we like? For example, in our school, kids are not allowed to chew gum. In the real world, gum chewing is fine, but perhaps not appropriate in every situation. On the other hand, the real world is full of rules that we may not agree with, (leash your dog, follow the speed limit) and there are consequences for not following them (if you get caught).
Maybe that's the lesson? (But will it be on the test?)
Saturday, April 28, 2012
What Would Worf Order?
I got David Chang's cookbook, Momofuko, for Christmas. Even though I have never had the fortune to eat at one of his restaurants, his reputation as both ingenious chef and tell-it-like-it-is writer intrigued me. And although I have yet to prepare a single dish from his cookbook, his philosophy and technique have brought me back to the book Saturday after Saturday, and I know I'm getting close to making something.
In fact, I planned a stop at my regular Asian market today to purchase some ingredients I'd like to have on hand. How disappointed was I when the inventory that I believed was pretty extensive was missing some crucial items?
Back at home, I researched buying what I wanted by mail order, but then I thought about searching for other, bigger markets near-by instead. There were several options, which was not surprising in the least given the diversity of our area. One in particular caught my eye, and I remembered that I had actually been there years ago.
As I recall, the store itself is supermarket sized, and shopping there was like being transported to a different country. Very few of the products for sale were familiar at all. I was fascinated by all of it, trolling the aisles, trying to figure out what this or that item might be. When I got to the produce section, I'm sure I gasped at the array of alien fruits and vegetables, or was my breath taken away by the cold food bar?
Crock after crock of unfamiliar food was nestled neatly in that twenty foot bed of ice. It hardly seemed real, so disorienting was it to literally not know what any of that stuff was. The friend I was with joined me in silence at the sight of it. Finally I spoke. "Oh my God! It's a Klingon salad bar!"
In fact, I planned a stop at my regular Asian market today to purchase some ingredients I'd like to have on hand. How disappointed was I when the inventory that I believed was pretty extensive was missing some crucial items?
Back at home, I researched buying what I wanted by mail order, but then I thought about searching for other, bigger markets near-by instead. There were several options, which was not surprising in the least given the diversity of our area. One in particular caught my eye, and I remembered that I had actually been there years ago.
As I recall, the store itself is supermarket sized, and shopping there was like being transported to a different country. Very few of the products for sale were familiar at all. I was fascinated by all of it, trolling the aisles, trying to figure out what this or that item might be. When I got to the produce section, I'm sure I gasped at the array of alien fruits and vegetables, or was my breath taken away by the cold food bar?
Crock after crock of unfamiliar food was nestled neatly in that twenty foot bed of ice. It hardly seemed real, so disorienting was it to literally not know what any of that stuff was. The friend I was with joined me in silence at the sight of it. Finally I spoke. "Oh my God! It's a Klingon salad bar!"
Friday, April 27, 2012
A Rope of Sand
I had the fortune to spend the day with one of my teaching idols today. Nancie Atwell was giving a workshop a few miles from my home. When I first received the flyer back in January, I asked and received permission from our principal to offer the opportunity to any teacher in our department who was interested. We hoped that it might be a unifying experience for a group of well-intentioned educators with rather disparate approaches to teaching writing.
What makes Atwell so impressive is that she is clear-minded about her underlying principles and yet pragmatic in the application of them. Her writing lessons evolve year by year, as do the details of their delivery and execution, but her framework remains true to the student-centered approach she introduced in 1987 in her seminal work In the Middle. She remains steadfast in the face of education trends that ultimately undermine our objective to foster literate, thoughtful, independent-minded citizens.
This is the third time that I've heard her in person, and each time I feel that my teaching has grown a little closer to the standard she holds up, but each time I am also struck by how some of my core convictions have been eroded by outside pressures. I guess that I was hoping if I could get my colleagues on board, we could work together and support each other to stay as true to our ideals as Atwell does.
I wish I could say that the day was a magical panacea which cured us of all of our departmental dysfunction, but I'm afraid that's not true. I do believe that many minds were opened to the possibilities of the workshop approach, though, and so we'll move [forward?] from there.
What makes Atwell so impressive is that she is clear-minded about her underlying principles and yet pragmatic in the application of them. Her writing lessons evolve year by year, as do the details of their delivery and execution, but her framework remains true to the student-centered approach she introduced in 1987 in her seminal work In the Middle. She remains steadfast in the face of education trends that ultimately undermine our objective to foster literate, thoughtful, independent-minded citizens.
This is the third time that I've heard her in person, and each time I feel that my teaching has grown a little closer to the standard she holds up, but each time I am also struck by how some of my core convictions have been eroded by outside pressures. I guess that I was hoping if I could get my colleagues on board, we could work together and support each other to stay as true to our ideals as Atwell does.
I wish I could say that the day was a magical panacea which cured us of all of our departmental dysfunction, but I'm afraid that's not true. I do believe that many minds were opened to the possibilities of the workshop approach, though, and so we'll move [forward?] from there.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Our English Holiday
Today was National Poem in Your Pocket Day, and as in years past, all of my students chose poems to carry with them. A part of our lesson was set aside for them to share if they wanted to.
It was a sweet day. Hearing young voices reciting verses that they have chosen is always uplifting. Every year, some kids select song lyrics, but today was the first time that anybody has ever asked to sing. Her version of You Don't Know You're Beautiful was met with applause and even demands for an encore.
It was a sweet day. Hearing young voices reciting verses that they have chosen is always uplifting. Every year, some kids select song lyrics, but today was the first time that anybody has ever asked to sing. Her version of You Don't Know You're Beautiful was met with applause and even demands for an encore.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Chipping Away
"I saw you carrying a bag into school yesterday," one of my homeroom students said this morning.
He's autistic, and he doesn't usually initiate conversations with me, so I was glad that he did, but like many teachers, I carry several bags every day, so it took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about."You mean that bag of chips?" I asked.
"Yeah. What were those for?"
"They were snacks for the Tolerance Club meeting," I told him.
"What's the Tolerance Club?" he asked.
"It's a club for kids that meets after school," I started. "We watch movies and talk about how to make our school a friendlier place. Do you think you would ever want to come to it?"
"No!" he said.
"Why not?" I asked him.
"Because it's for normal people," he answered.
That took me aback a bit. "It's for people who like people who are different," I told him. "Everybody is different in some way, right?"
"Yes," he said.
"So, would you like to come to a meeting sometime?" I asked again.
"Will I get chips?"
"Yep," I assured him.
"Then yes."
He's autistic, and he doesn't usually initiate conversations with me, so I was glad that he did, but like many teachers, I carry several bags every day, so it took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about."You mean that bag of chips?" I asked.
"Yeah. What were those for?"
"They were snacks for the Tolerance Club meeting," I told him.
"What's the Tolerance Club?" he asked.
"It's a club for kids that meets after school," I started. "We watch movies and talk about how to make our school a friendlier place. Do you think you would ever want to come to it?"
"No!" he said.
"Why not?" I asked him.
"Because it's for normal people," he answered.
That took me aback a bit. "It's for people who like people who are different," I told him. "Everybody is different in some way, right?"
"Yes," he said.
"So, would you like to come to a meeting sometime?" I asked again.
"Will I get chips?"
"Yep," I assured him.
"Then yes."
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Job Description
I have a colleague whose ex-husband used to wonder why she was so
tired at night. "All you have to do is sit behind your desk all day and
say, You may begin," he told her. I wonder why that marriage didn't work out.
Recently the NY Times published a piece about the software developed by the Educational Testing Service, e-Rater, that can read and score 16,000 essays in 20 seconds. Wow! Never mind the current flaws in the system, like disregarding facts and nonsense in favor of big vocabulary words and long sentences. Seriously! Any English teacher working her customary 50-60 hour week might be justified in indulging in a little wishful thinking.
Who wouldn't want to throw all your grading into a machine? Who cares if we start to teach students to write to a convenient algorithm rather than a human audience? While they're at it, maybe they can write some code so that e-Rater interfaces with the grade book, too!
Yeah, then I can get back to sitting on my butt, collecting my colossal paycheck, and biding my time until I can retire at the expense of the hardworking, private-sector citizens of my state.
Hey, ETS! You may begin.
Recently the NY Times published a piece about the software developed by the Educational Testing Service, e-Rater, that can read and score 16,000 essays in 20 seconds. Wow! Never mind the current flaws in the system, like disregarding facts and nonsense in favor of big vocabulary words and long sentences. Seriously! Any English teacher working her customary 50-60 hour week might be justified in indulging in a little wishful thinking.
Who wouldn't want to throw all your grading into a machine? Who cares if we start to teach students to write to a convenient algorithm rather than a human audience? While they're at it, maybe they can write some code so that e-Rater interfaces with the grade book, too!
Yeah, then I can get back to sitting on my butt, collecting my colossal paycheck, and biding my time until I can retire at the expense of the hardworking, private-sector citizens of my state.
Hey, ETS! You may begin.
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