A month into the first quarter, Chinquapin’s faculty and students have already been experimenting and learning with the iLife applications and our new laptops. Kathy reports that the ongoing projects are so numerous that the laptops are heavily used during evening study halls. Brian has used the laptops to collect data on sound for analysis in senior Physics. My English II students have created iMovies in response to Anaya’s Bless Me, Ultima (look for sample “Blessing” movies by Pedro and Rachel in the faculty shared network folder). Carl has used them to teach students to use correct accents and other diacritical marks in Spanish.

I want to remind everyone of the resources available at the Apple Education Community. In a quick recent visit, I discovered video tutorials on podcasting, a page on “tips and tricks” (such as “how to screenshot anything”), and an e-newsletter on using Macs in schools. If you recall, we all signed up as members of this community on the last day of our training. I still have some activation codes and license numbers, if you have forgotten user ID and password or if you weren’t able to attend the training.

Hoping to save you some of the trials my class initially experienced, I have attached in the comments my lengthy instructions for teaching iMovie (though I’m sure there’s probably a better version at the web site above) for our “Blessings” project. The students and I definitely experienced joys and frustrations with this project, but that is all part of learning something new, and it felt good to learn these things together. I included the students in the process, evaluating what was working and what was not working as we went along, encouraging the students who finished early to instruct the students who were having trouble, engaging the class in designing a rubric.

My students learned so many things beyond the basics of the software, I stopped trying to catalog their achievements. Here are a few of their more significant developments: gaining a sense of several elements working together to create an overall aesthetic, weighing word choice carefully to make a powerful statement in few words, fine-tuning that statement for public viewing, and problem-solving in collaboration. Some key to things to focus on if you are planning such a project: have a plan for how you will collect and save their work; be sure that students work directly on their local computers until the end of their projects (we had problems with transmitting work wirelessly), slow students down and constantly remind them to read the instructions.

What I Learned Last Year

As a teacher of more than two decades at some pretty disparate institutions ranging from the U.S. Naval Academy to an all-girls boarding school, I’ve learned to listen and adapt as I’ve moved into new educational environments. I’m confident enough to know that some things about teaching travel well, but also wise enough to see that every school has its own character that it behooves me to take some time to get acquainted with. Here are some of my thoughts about what I learned at Chinquapin last year:

1. You’re never too old or too seasoned to be tested by your students. Last year’s seniors, as caretakers of the Chinquapin way, had every right to question me about what I knew and how I expected to teach them. While this was somewhat difficult to take at times – especially when you are pushing fifty and feel that you’ve been around the block in most respects – I grew to respect their stance because it represented their commitment to learning at Chinquapin. I should be accountable to them, and I should pay attention to what they have to say. What I learned from the seniors’ (and others’) challenges to my so-called authority, was that my relationship to the school matters to them, what I have to give as a teacher matters to them, and I should not mind justifying my choices in the classroom. Every teacher should be so lucky as to have students who care that much. So my advice to other teachers is to listen to your students, even if they are telling you things you don’t wish to hear, pay attention, consider what works and what doesn’t (you may be surprised), think about why, and go back to your teaching and make it better.

2. Smile. That’s what I learned from my first ever seventh-grade class. I don’t mean it in a fake, saccharine, Hallmark sense. I mean, get happy about what you are doing. I learned students are hyper-sensitive to their teachers’ moods. My seventh-graders openly stated that they learned better when I was happier, they were more willing to pursue new things or to try something difficult if I smiled or laughed (maybe older students are just resigned to their teachers being grumpy – too bad). How easy is that?

3. Students want to admire their teachers. Thus, they want their teachers to be people they can look up to. Over and over again in their course evaluations, students volunteered their admiration for teachers who made sacrifices or took time to interact with them as human beings. At the same time, they want their teachers to be leaders, to teach them how to be admirable leaders in their own right. They want to believe in their teachers and for their teachers to believe in them. They appreciate encouragement and advice from teachers that guides them, that helps them grow as ethical, discerning individuals. The lesson here: when you see a problem or issue where students need guidance, take the time to explain how they might respond in a more ethical or thoughtful way. Don’t berate them, certainly don’t humiliate them; rather, take the time to teach them, show them the way.

Giving Thanks

It is tempting to fall into the pop trap of creating a catalog of things I’m thankful for about Chinquapin. I won’t do that however long the list is, because I don’t want to trivialize my thanks into a kind of advertisement. My thanks are deep and wide. Let me try to express something of them here.

I am thankful for the leadership of Chinquapin. From its earliest days, its leadership has been inspired. From all I have read and heard, Bob Moore must have been one doozy of an educator, but he and Chinquapin’s other early designers also made so many right decisions to guide the school successfully – among them the desire to create an educational setting away from the negative distractions of the students’ lives, also imbuing the school with a meaningful quid pro quo philosophy that binds the students to the school they serve and that serves them -- they earn my deep respect and thanks.

Closer to home for me is the leadership provided by Bill and Kathy Heinzerling. Each embodies a seemingly boundless commitment to the school that earns the respect of everyone who comes in contact with it. More than serving as models of dedication to this cause we believe in, however, they direct the school as exemplars of democracy, decency, and empathy. I don’t mean to make them sound like saints. Anyone who has experienced Bill’s slightly off-color humor or Kathy’s growls of frustration knows that these two complementary forces are real people who relate to all of us as real people deserving of respect and dignity and love. They are not the kind of walking egos who allow their own sense of self to get in the way of meaningful interactions with the people with whom they are working side by side. I am thankful for Bill’s overwhelming kindness, a quality that imbues his leadership, as it does his teaching, with humanity. I am thankful for Kathy’s straightforward, no-nonsense advice, for her patient listening when I have been worked up over a problem, for her wise way of seeing through to the core of things. Together, they are one powerful pair. I’m thankful for that too.

Early in my career, before I went into teaching, I remember being envious in more than one instance of offices or groups of people who worked together towards a common cause in seemingly blissful harmony. It’s not that these were Stepford Offices; rather, there was an aura of purposeful camaraderie and pleasure in working together that emanated from them. The places where I worked, in contrast, were divided by political in-fighting or dominated by personalities loaded with so much psychological baggage they trampled the rest of us because they simply could not see where they were going. So what I want to say is that I am thankful for the atmosphere of congeniality and shared purpose that is created by the faculty and staff at Chinquapin. I have been warmly welcomed, trusted and listened to, respectfully engaged and challenged. I have found in Chinquapin one of those special places I was always so envious of.

I am thankful for Chinquapin’s students, too, who are the reason we’re here. Though they are not always easy to teach, they are easy to love. Their desire to learn inspires me to find ways to teach them better, give them more. Even the students who trouble us are often seeking knowledge and ways of learning outside the scope of their classes. We may think of these things – sports, personal relationships, the Internet -- as distractions, but we have to respect our students’ desires to expand their knowledge beyond the streets of their neighborhoods. Then there are other students who eat up what we feed them in the classroom. They are hungry; they are becoming gourmets of learning. We should all be thankful for that, and strive to provide more than just the bland stuff of your average public school. They are hungry, also, for us to show them how to succeed, how to make something of themselves. How inspiring is that.

I am thankful for the beautiful, comfortable campus that makes me smile every time I step out of my car in the morning or when I walk across the quad to a class. I am thankful for the freedom I am given to teach what works, to experiment (and sometimes fail). I am thankful for the forward-thinking donors to the school, to its dedicated board whose personal, gut-level attachment is evident in all they do. I’m thankful for the gracious help my husband and I received when we moved here. I am thankful for “a room of my own,” the office where I can meet with teachers and students and work effectively. I am thankful for the thanks I have received – I feel appreciated. I am thankful for the good people of Chinquapin, the good it does, the good it can engender.

Winding Down

Graduation has come and gone. The summer sessions are over. We finally have a chance to clean out the debris accumulated in our offices, to meet colleagues for lunch, to have meetings on those projects that we discussed all through the year.

Yet there's that let-down feeling hovering in the air. What to do with ourselves? Where to focus?

Reflecting on a remarkable year, I have to say that I am astonished at what we accomplish with our students. They deserve much credit. They come to class, for the most part, with the idea that they want to learn. This is an essential ingredient that we must constantly strive to capitalize on. This is what should be at the forefront of our minds when we tend to be distracted by the few students who disappoint or frustrate us. It is our jobs as teachers to keep that positive energy flowing, to keep feeding the hungry minds. If we don't, we lose them. They'll go somewhere else for satisfaction. We are lucky to have students who want to learn in our classes, and we need to remember that.

I am thinking a lot about themes that emerged from the students' evaluations of their classes. This is where they get to speak to us directly about how they learn and what they want. Despite what some teachers think (as they become preoccupied with those few slackers once again), the students want to learn and want us to teach them in a way that they can learn. They are ecstatic when a class goes well.

Two other themes emerge. One is how sensitive students are to our moods. We often think of them as impervious to adults, but they are really constantly reading us. Sure, we should be allowed to be human and express real feelings to them. But we may also have to explain those expressions, to interpret them for the students, so that they don't misunderstand. And huge, seemingly unexplained fluctuations in temperament are really upsetting to them.

The other theme I want to talk about is our role as figures who can inspire and motivate. Our students want to be inspired and motivated, to be uplifted, to be encouraged. I'm sure all students need this, but our students need it a hundredfold. Thus, we need to be conscious of how we can turn a negative event or quality into a means for true inspiration. The teachers who can do this have our students greatest admiration -- and I think they deserve it.

More thoughts will come as the summer progresses. What is on your minds?

The First Ten

What happens in the first ten minutes of your class? Grant Wiggins, the speaker I heard today in a workshop on the concept of "essential questions," posed this question as a side-bar to our main topic of conversation.

This may be where we win students or lose them. How many of us begin the class with mundane business, such as checking or going over homework? We all know that the first line of a novel or poem, the first scene of a movie, the lead in a newspaper article -- these can determine whether or not we will continue or check out. My husband and I have a fifteen-minute rule for rented movies. I have a 50- and then a 100-page rule for novels. How many times do we actually judge a book by its cover -- or title? How often to we teach the importance of an opening line in an essay? I even have a 10-minute rule for workshops at conferences -- if it doesn't engage me in that amount of time, I bail.

So why wouldn't we expect our students to react in the same way? What are we doing to engage them (or not) in those first ten?

When You're Weary...

We've had some good discussions lately about the how the students sink into a mire of slacking in the late winter and early spring. I am frustrated with some, who seem to be so wrapped up in themselves that anything that takes them outside themselves is a bother. Other teachers are frustrated with classes or parts of classes who are conducting the equavalent of sit-down strikes. It's hard to face the day-to-day frustrations and also step back and reflect on how we got here, but that's what we need to do.

Today I plan to talk to my students about loving your work, and as students that means loving learning. If you don't find a way to love it, or if you lose your love for it, then it becomes the grind that either drains you of all energy or that you must ultimately rebel against. But it comes down to being a choice -- are you going to love your work? Are you going to keep loving your work when it's hard.

That's where I am anyway. How about everyone else?

Authentic Assessment (Real Tests)

Chris gave an informative and thought-provoking introduction to "Authentic Assessment" at the New Teachers Meeting last night. He made the case for having students do rather than regurgitate. This is sometimes hard to think about because we have traditional ways of testing in-grained in us. Plus, that's the way we learned, so it must be good. Not necessarily. What about all those successful,creative people out there who weren't good in school and who never considered being involved in education because it was so uninspiring? (I think of the obvious ones: Bill Gates, August Wilson.) My impression is that students feel they are being beaten down with the grind, partly because they aren't doing enough. And I don't mean just "studying" (ie., staring at the textbook) or "taking good notes" (ie., copying down whatever the teacher says). Of course, those are both skills that are useful to have, just like it's useful to know about the five-paragraph theme. But they're not our end goals, I think, and they're just plain boring when it comes down to the grind of every-day schooling. Doing is much more exciting, and much more meaningful, and much more lasting as a way of learning and knowing. I think we know this from our own experience, but it is hard to break out of the habits that we -- and the students -- have adopted so completely for school.

I believe the students don't really want to learn only in this old way -- even if they kick and scream when we change things. (They don't love field trips just because they get to leave school, but because they do something.) Change is scary, but it's also exhilerating, challenging, invigorating. It makes us appreciate what matters. It gives us choice about what works.

I would be interested in hearing about anyone's forays into the world of "authentic assessment." What have you tried? When has it worked...or not? What has been the result? I'll admit that I'm already one of the converted. But I respect the healthy skepticism of teachers with other views.

If you want to try out some authentic assessments, you could start with the main web site Chris mentioned:
Authentic Assessment Toolbox (Commended by Merlot)http://jonathan.mueller.faculty.noctrl.edy/toolbox/

Here is some additional food for thought: Much of the recent "brain research" supports the idea of authentic assessment (doing in order to learn). The following web site tracks the brain research in relation to education and learning. It might be a good thing to take a look at:
The Brain Connection
www.brainconnection.com

I'm eager to hear what you think.

The Morning After

The buzz after yesterday's workshops was good. People are thinking about their classes in new ways. I'm very excited. This morning Pat was talking about creating PowerPoints for his poetry recitals and scanning pictures from Texas Highways. Bill and others are interested in Moodle. Let's follow through with the energy we created and see what happens!

I am interested in where the students would like to see us go with technology. Any feedback?

Welcome, Burrs!

If you've found this blog, you have been invited by someone from the Chinquapin community. We hope you will enjoy this resource for celebrating all things Chinquapinian. Today members of Chinquapin's faculty are boldly going where they have not gone before...into the world of technology. What do you think so far?