Dr. McConnell mentioned that this year's training has been better than ever before. It seems like a lot of the issues that have arisen in the past have been corrected over the years and that a lot of thought was put into what we actually go through in the summer. Keeping in mind how receptive the program has been to suggestions and comments, there were really only a few things that actually bothered me about the training.
Overall, I found it enormously useful and reassuring. In the amount of time that we had, I think we were trained as best as we could have been. Summer school is a very, very good idea (how did the alums survive the fall without it?!). It was wonderful to be able to teach students who actually needed to be taught, and it was very good experience. The only two two things that I could suggest would be to somehow draw more students (lower the cost of summer school?) so that classes don't only have one student in them and to try to get first-years teaching the exact subject they'll be teaching in the fall (including grade level).
I was very impressed with the TEAM. I think the fact that they were there was really, really reassuring. Their feedback and modeling was very valuable.
It was nice to be teaching classes and taking classes (in June) concurrently, so that we were getting training in how to make a lesson plan exactly when we needed it. It was also nice that in July, we didn't have to worry about that, and that we got the classroom management role-play practice instead.
The role-plays were one of the things I found to be most useful, not necesssarily because they mimicked exactly what would happen in a classroom, but because it exposed us to so many possible disruptions in our classroom, many that I would never have even considered on my own. In the future, though, every role play should be as realistic as possible. I learned less from the ones that got carried away than from the ones where I got a realistic response from the "student." Finally, the group role-play was kind of disappointing. I felt that we really should have discussed each role play after it was done. If getting every person in front of a larger classroom was a priority, stretch it out over a few more days, allowing talking time between each role-play.
Aside from those suggestions, though, I felt that I got excellent training this summer. It had all of the components I would have wanted in terms of training- real teaching experience, lesson planning practice, and classroom management suggestions. We had honest evaluators, lots of feedback, and even a chance to evaluate ourselves by taping our lessons. I feel as close to prepared as possible for what the fall will bring.
Tahina, Asia, Kelly, and Shanika all chose very interesting topics to study for their summer project. It seemed like they were drawn to and inspired by different aspects of Mississippi (and different speakers who spoke about them).
I was particularly impressed by the variety in topics, ranging from prison conditions to teen pregnancy, from the idea behind freedom schools to giving Mississippi students a voice. The amount of research they were able to collect in such a short time was also commendable, and that really came out during the Q&A sessions. Asia's use of a real letter sent by the prisoners and Tahina's effort in video-taping aspects of the Corps and doing her own narration really added a lot to their presentations.
[Side note: The intern projects, I think, are a great opportunity not only for the interns to get to know a little bit more about Mississippi, but also to get some smart, educated minds engaged in making some positive changes in this state. In other words, I think the intern projects have the potential to be much more than they are. Rather than doing an informative presentation with historical facts and statistics, they could easily narrow down the topic to one issue, and really take it to a new level. Draw some conclusions, posit some theories, suggest some solutions! It's not every day that the issues that plague poorer areas of our country receive the kind of critical thought that the interns are putting into these projects. There is SO much potential in the project ideas (and in each of the interns) that a lot more action could come out of the same amount of work. Even if they don't have enough time to implement something, they might inspire someone else to pick up where they left off. Just my opinion.]
The questions I still have are mostly about the interns' opinions about some of what they said.
For Tahina: Why did you choose the title "Muted"? What are your ideas about how to correct that problem and what would it take to implement it?
Asia: What are your thoughts on the prisoners' rights in light of the offense? (For example, is it fair that a repeat offender of a worse crime, for example, get fewer prison rights?)
Kelly: What is the impact of marriage on the teen pregnancy rate? When are young people getting married, and which comes first, the marriage or the pregnancy? What do you think is the significance of culture (culture of the South, culture of Mississippi, culture of a particular demographic group) regarding younger births in accounting for the data you collected?
Shanika: Can you think of any drawbacks to freedom schools? Do you think anyone would see it as "re"- segregation?
Reactions:
- I keep unintentionally choosing good lessons to film, so the one I chose this week was a fun, engaging lesson on "circle graphs" (please tell me that I remember them as pie charts because of a regional, not age, difference). I think it reflects my overall progress, and definitely shows that I have branched out a little from the standard teach-guide-observe model. I've been able to incorporate some fun activities without losing anything in the way of accomplishing the objective.
- Watching myself wasn't nearly as painful this time.
- Getting someone else to tape was a good idea, but taping with my Mac was not. I could barely hear anything WITHOUT the AC on, and then when I turned it on, it became a silent film.
Strengths:
- I look confident in front of the classroom, regardless of how well prepared I am or feel. It feels like my own and I think I know the students well enough to know what I can say or do that will make them speak up or shut down.
- I used fruit snack packets to make circle graphs about the proportions of any particular color. They liked that. And we suspended Rule #4 so they could eat them in class, too.
- I had them work in groups to create a multiple choice question that they were to ask everyone in the room. Their answers were to be graphed. I think the social part of the activity was a huge strength. The frequency of smiles skyrocketed past the average math class rate.
- I question well.
Weaknesses:
- I should have modeled how to talk to people. I still assume a little bit too much when it comes to what they "should" know. When I asked them to interview the others in the room, their version of "interview" was: thrust notebook with written question in front of someone's face, grunt to indicate you want attention, point to communicate. I'm not even trying to be funny.
- I consistently forget little logistical things- mentioning when the formal assessment will be, closing on time, including the preview of the next lesson in my closing, etc.
- I'm still having a hard time gauging how long the "involve the students" part of my closing will take. I might estimate 10 seconds for an answer, but then have to wait longer than that, and since I don't want to rush the wait time, my closing gets cut off. I'm not sure if I should just call on students who I KNOW will know the answer or if I should just start closing earlier.
- The level at which I taught circle graphs was very low. I could've done a much more in-depth lesson with little activity time and I opted instead to do a fun lesson that really hammered home stuff they probably already knew...
What I learned:
- Kids will smile if you do.
- Kids who don't want to be in math class are VERY slow at everything, from responding to a question to writing notes to walking around the classroom. It was like watching the video on slow motion. A silent slow motion film.
Has my style/ability changed since last month?
- My writing on the board, without turning my back on the class, has gotten better.
- I've improved at asking questions. I don't take as long to word them anymore, so I'm definitely questioning more clearly. I'm still asking very low level questions, though.
- I'm talking less.
- Like I mentioned earlier, I'm forgetting smaller things now. I can't ever close in time, and my sets are getting weaker.
As promised, I tried one of the questioning strategies again in one of my recent lessons. I did the "muddiest part of the lecture" one-- the students wrote down the toughest part of the week as an exit ticket.
I really liked this strategy. It's a no-embarrassment, helpful tactic that'll help teachers get first-hand feedback about how effective their instruction is. Out of my four students, three wrote legitimate answers, which, after looking at their tests, they were being completely honest about. The other wrote a cop-out answer by naming the topic we'd be working on minutes before, which, based on his work, I knew he'd completely grasped. Two students named the same difficult topic, which we hadn't talked about for a few days. That told me that they both still remembered it as having been a challenge when we did it; I really appreciated knowing that going into the review session and test, and had I had more time, I would've tried to spend another period on that particular topic, or organize a study session for any students who were having difficulty with it. I definitely think this is a strategy I'll revisit during the year; it's quick, helpful, and (usually) honest.
Ever a fan of online quizzes--particularly the kind for which you don't have to give your cell phone number at the end for the results--I took the Myers-Briggs for the second time in my life (though this time it was on a shady-looking website with awkwardly phrased questions). Ever resistant to be labeled, I didn't take the results too seriously. I don't remember the results the first time, but this time, I was told that I am an INFJ, an Idealist, and specifically, a Counselor.
The strength of of my preferences (as percentages, the calculations for which remain a mystery to me) are given below:
INTROVERTED: 33%
INTUITIVE: 25%
FEELING: 75%
JUDGING: 56%
Counselors have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others. Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries.
- This bodes well for teaching. I'm definitely a quiet-time-to-recharge-my-batteries kind of person. Nice job, Myers-Briggs.
- I wouldn't call myself "highly private," but the rest of that is more true than I care to elaborate on. At the same time, I imagine that's a safe assumption about a lot of people (that is, more than 1% of the population. And certainly they don't mean the WORLD'S population?)
- I do like to think that I can read people well. I hope this carries over well into the teaching profession, as kids are at once the most simple and most complex of all people.
- I disagree with the first part; I find myself far from what I think of as poetic. But I do think I can communicate well, at least in written form. Spoken communication, I can already tell, will be one of my challenges in the classroom.
1) TALK LESS. For some reason, since we began talking more about talking less, I've been talking almost uncontrollably in class; I just can't help the word-vomit. In one of my more recent lessons, I found myself talking DURING INDEPENDENT PRACTICE. (It was something of an out-of-body experience; I was asking myself, "What the heck am I DOING?" even as I continued to speak.) I felt like I was channeling some of the elementary/middle school teachers I've had or something, whom I remember as NEVER having been quiet. I'm not sure why I'm so bad at this, but I have a few guesses:
- The logical explanation: I sometimes don't figure out the best way to explain things until after I say them once. Then I rephrase. Then I rephrase again. Turns out, if I figured out how to say it effectively (and efficiently) the first time, I wouldn't waste as much time talking. Both more planning and experience will help.
- The psychological argument: Since I'm thinking about NOT talking, all I can do is talk.
- The cop-out excuse: It's the kids' fault. They don't get it when I say it once, so I have to keep saying it again and again and by then, the period's over.
The talking needs to stop.
2) QUESTION MORE CLEARLY AND MORE EFFECTIVELY. I noticed early on that I ask questions multiple times before I like the way they sound (related to problem #1). Since I don't call on students to answer until I think it reflects what I'm assessing, I a) sound like I'm not allowing any wait time at all, and b) screw up time management considerably. I also got some feedback that I'm asking very low level questions, and I completely agree (though I wouldn't have noticed until someone pointed it out.) I'm a HUGE fan of testing comprehension consistently throughout the lesson, but it would be more effective if I probed a little deeper with my questions. I owe that to my students.
3) MANAGE TIME MORE EFFECTIVELY AND APPROPRIATELY. I haven't quite mastered the art of managing a lesson with effective modeling, guided practice, and ample time for independent practice (not to mention, sufficient questioning)...in under 50 minutes. I'm particularly struggling with getting the independent practice in (the most important part, I know) for enough time because I'm spending too much time on earlier procedures. Especially in math, this section is soooo important, and I'm only now coming to the realization that I can only teach so much before they have to learn it themselves. The concept of a teacher not doing the work is (inexplicably) novel to me, and making sure my kids get enough time to do the work themselves during the lesson is something I need to work on.
I recently watched the video I took of me teaching a lesson on formulating equations (7th grade math). Here's what I thought:
Reactions:
- I hate watching myself on tape, but I can't deny that it was helpful.
- Body language is very important. Little things like shifting my weight, biting my lip, etc, are much more pronounced than I would have guessed they would be.
- Teaching really IS like performing!
Strengths:
- The lesson I watched was one that I had to improvise on for the first 20 minutes or so (because I didn't communicate well enough with the teacher before me), and I think I actually did well with that! It looked like the way I did it was how I'd planned it.
- I have a loud, attention-getting speaking voice.
- I think I listened to students' responses well. I usually used their own words in confirming what they said, and responded positively to any response they actually gave.
- I repeat myself a lot, which I think helped.
- I give time reminders a lot.
- The students were always doing something. There was no "downtime."
- I indicate very regularly what I want them to do.
- This was one of the lessons in which I didn't talk nearly as much as I usually do. (in that sense, this lesson was an anomaly.)
- I modeled the product I wanted for a project I had them do, which helped me to get the result I wanted from them.
Weaknesses:
- I should sit more. I walk around a lot even when the students are working independently, and it is clear that they do not need my help at the moment. My instinct is to walk so that they know I'm watching them, but I think it may just be distracting at times.
- I talk too fast sometimes, not when I'm explaining a concept
(when I'm very conscious about it), but when I'm giving or explaining
directions, which is when I don't think about it as much.
- My shoes are noisy, almost annoyingly. I can't decide if I like the authoritative clicks they make around the room or if I should go for something less irritating to the ear.
- I talk a LOT. I think it's almost a comfort thing.
- I turn my back to the class too much when I write on the board.
What I learned:
- I should have someone else tape for me, rather than tape from a table, because while I could always see myself, I could only see two of the four students, so as I'm watching the video, I'm not sure what the other two were doing most of the time.
- My questions need to be clearer. I often ask a question, realize I didn't phrase it optimally and change the question before the students have time to think about it or answer.
- Continuous directions help the students stay on task.
- The cardigan I call my "librarian sweater" REALLY looks like a librarian sweater.
- I need to get better at writing on the board sideways or get used to pre-writing all of my notes.
- Talking a lot disengages students after a while.
The Reluctant Disciplinarian was a funny and very quick read, which I enjoyed. Aside from it being highly entertaining, however, I disagreed with some of its ideas. At the risk of sounding negative in virtually every assigned blog post, I'll go through some of them below. (I chose to do this over highlighting my positive reactions to it solely because it'll make for a more interesting read.)
1. I agreed with Wong's observation that good teachers MANAGE, whereas ineffective teachers DISCIPLINE. Rubinstein uses the word "discipline" from the start, which already makes me wary.
2. Rubinstein contends that observing good teachers manage a classroom is not a good way to learn classroom management because good teachers make it look too easy. I disagree. I think there is more to be learned from watching effective teachers teach than from anywhere else, save for personal experience. The key, I think, is to watch them at the very beginning of the year; the way they set up their classrooms in the first few weeks is crucial to their later success. It makes sense, then, that classroom management appears easy later in the year because all of the groundwork has been laid. (And while I'm not sure Rubinstein intended to imply it, watching ineffective teachers teach may be just as effective!)
3. As I mentioned above, I think learning from our own mistakes is the best way to learn classroom management. Rubinstein argues that it's somewhat unfair to make students the guinea pigs. That's true, but is there any job one could walk into being perfect at it? According to him, then, summer school is unfair because our kids are the guinea pigs of the MTC first-years. While I don't disagree with it, I think it's a weak argument against learning from your own mistakes.
4. This could just be my inexperience talking, but I didn't really agree that all effective teachers have to do what a "good" teacher would do in order to be taken seriously. For example, using textbooks despite your own activities being more effective (71) is, I think, just silly. The point is to get the students to learn. In my opinion, if using textbooks puts them to sleep, toss the book and teach them the material, even if it's not what a "good" teacher would do.
5. Following directly from Dr. Monroe's class about parent-teacher teaming, I find it incredibly hard to digest Rubinstein's advice about a difficult parent: "Just end the call and try to avoid contact with that parent in the future" (86). I can see the benefit of ending the call. I cannot see the benefit of avoiding contact with the parent. That seems entirely counterproductive to the success of the student.
For the sake of including positive things, I liked the section about teacher decisiveness. Being prepared to "utter a decisive answer, within two seconds, to just about anything (67)," despite not knowing the answer strikes me as a huge teacher-only inside joke. Then again, I guess it's really only funny because I'm on the inside this time. I also really appreciated the section about not being here to "save" the student, but to teach the student. That's something I've thought a lot about since Dr. Mullins' and Dr. Barnes' talks. I think one of the dangers of convincing ourselves that we are here working with a "less fortunate" population is that of elevating ourselves on some moral hierarchy. Patronizing the pupil to put ourselves on a pedestal is, along with being highly alliterative, not our job. And while I realize that it's not always as blatant as that, I hope to be able to distance myself from that tendency altogether.
Finally, I must admit, I got a huge kick out of Rubinstein's final gem: Whatever you do, DON'T teach summer school.
Unfortuntately, my questioning strategies lesson failed this week. (I'll try to work it into an upcoming lesson and blog about it, hence the (1) in the title.)
I was teaching word problems involving decimals and percentages and had decided to use the strategy by which I'd ask questioning of increasing difficulty from Bloom's taxonomy. I even had the questions I would ask written in my lesson plan. Unfortunately, those questions came in the guided practice section, and the guided practice section ultimately became more like a forced practice section.
My goal was to get through ten word problems: one that I would do for them, another that I would help them through, and then as many as they could do out of eight that were on a worksheet I made. I planned for the two examples to take about 15 minutes; it actually took about 35 (that's 35 minutes of me talking- dreadful, I know). My students gave me little feedback, and although they seemed a little bit more tired than usual, they also seemed both confused and disinterested.
With about 12 minutes left in class, I just threw the worksheets on them, knowing that they hadn't quite grasped the concept. I skipped the guided practice, group work, and board work sections in the interest of time,and therefore don't have anything to write about on questioning strategies (though I can hazard a fairly confident guess that even the Level 1 questions I'd had written down would not have been answered with much success in this particular lesson). Obviously, time management was a huge issue. I'm still unsure about how to handle the rest of the lesson when it appears that the beginning of it has failed to make sense to them. I also wonder how I'm supposed to limit the amount of talking I do when it's clear they haven't understood the talking I've already done.
What I did learn, however, is that 7th graders HATE math word problems.
I really enjoyed the beginning of Delta Autumn but, to be honest, I got less and less interested as the book wore on. I loved the first background chapter because that is exactly the kind of thing I want to know about where I am and what I'm doing. I think it provided a relatively comprehensive, if greatly condensed, history of the Mississippi public education system, which gave me some context about the issues that Mississippi schools face today. I feel more informed about the situation I am walking into after reading that chapter. "The Delta offers a challenge, but it is neither insurmountable or overwhelmingly complex" (24). I like that comment because it reassures me as a first-year teacher that it isn't impossible for me to be a part of changing the course of the Delta.
The practical advice in the rest of the book was valuable, particularly the chapter about what to expect the first week of school and suggestions for classroom management. Knowing that I'll go into the first day (which apparently every author makes out to be one enormous case of Murphy's Law) unprepared for it, it's comforting to have some type of checklist about what to do and who to seek out if I need help-- and even if I think I don't. As the book was written by a Teacher Corps teacher, and edited by people who know Teacher Corps exceptionally well, it struck me as particularly useful for the situations I might encounter. While I'm a firm believer in learning through first-hand experience, it's nice to be reminded that my anxieties aren't irrational or uncommon.
Much of the advice the book gave—like appear confident even if you’re not—are things I’ve heard repeatedly during orientation, from second-years, and in Dr. Monroe’s class, so it was great to have that reinforcement. I appreciate the author’s dry humor, and was reassured by the fact that even those who have been teaching for a while are still able to maintain a sense of humor about their jobs in the first place. (I felt similarly while reading The Reluctant Disciplinarian, but I’ll get to that in a later post).
Though I found the rest of the book helpful, I wasn't as engaged in the later chapters. I thought some of the issues discussed, like dealing with children who have special needs and dealing with parents could probably vary drastically depending on the districts we will be working in and the students we will be working with. That's not to say those issues are not important, but more to acknowledge that from what I've heard, districts, administrations, principals, staff, and support networks vary greatly from school to school. I'm wary of walking into a situation expecting anything at all. I'm taking Ben's advice to heart: "Free yourself from all expectations."
The last section I read was the math section. I keep wondering, ever since I was slated for math, whether the subject we teach will hugely impact our experience here. I'm tempted to say yes, because different subjects allow for different types of classroom activities (and, let's face it, math doesn't usually make the top of the High Schooler's All-Time Favorite Subjects list). But, solely from speaking with teachers, I'm also convinced that it doesn't make that much of a difference since the horror stories I've heard haven't been subject-specific or even subject-related.
Back to the book: I enjoyed Delta Autumn. I can't say I found all parts useful or necessary, but I appreciate the experience behind all its nuggets of wisdom. (Also, I realize iit made me really want to learn more about the history of public education in Mississippi.)
For the most part, my TEAM helped me immensely. The oracle, Pete Nelson, provided great insights in science teaching. read more
on Summer Training: Reflections