Never Stop Learning

Last week I presented at and attended the Mathematics Educators Convergence, held at Columbus Academy.  In addition to meeting some great math teachers and hearing presentations from Fawn Nguyen and NCTM president Robert Q. Berry, I left with a lot of great ideas and activities, some of which will take some time and planning to incorporate into my classroom, and some that I will be able to use this year.  It's still fun (and a little annoying) to see an activity that sparks the question, "Where has this been hiding all this time?"

This will be my 30th year of teaching, and I can't imagine not spending at least part of my summer actively trying to get better.  Whether it's reading some research, doing some math, or attending a conference, getting better is part of the job, and I honestly don't understand teachers who have to be forced to do professional development of any kind.  PD that's imposed from the outside can be hit or miss; searching for and participating in relevant PD is on the teacher.  We want the kids to become life-long learners, to have an inner drive that makes them want to improve for the sake of improving.  They won't believe it's important if we just dust off old lesson plans we've used for years, lesson plans that require us to tell the kids to pretend Desmos and the internet don't exist, or lesson plans that include a daily worksheet with word problems that have gasoline selling for 89 cents per gallon.

If I ever honestly believe I have nothing else to learn about teaching, it will be time to retire.  The kids deserve better than that, and I intend to work hard to improve every year.  Even year 30.  God willing, even year 45.

The Point of Assessment

It is rare that I give an in-class quiz or test.  Most of the work I have the kids do is either online, or some sort of a project-like assessment that they can work on at home, and I often require that they have their work peer-edited.  If this sounds more like what students would do when writing as essay in their language arts class, you're right, since that's where I got the initial idea to run assessments this way.

The question that I asked myself that led me to this is: What is the point of assessment? 

Is the point of assessment to determine how well the students understand the material so we (the student and teacher) can make a plan going forward to help the student continue to grow where they're good and make better progress where they're falling short?  Or is it to make that determination under the pressure of demonstrating their abilities in a specified 45 minutes?

I answered in the former.  Even if there is some kind of end-of-course test (from the state department of education or from the College Board or wherever), practicing with the time constraint while alleviating the pressure in a low-stakes or no-stakes situation in the classroom will give you a better read on how the kids are doing. 

Yes, there are situations in life when the pressure of a time constraint is very real and very important.  Assessment in a classroom shouldn't be one of them.  Not if we really want to know how well they understand the material.

Location, Location, Location

Last week we were on vacation at Lake Erie, visiting many of the same places we have for the last 33 years, including Cedar Point.  Looking at the list of things we did, it occurred to me that we could have done most of them here at home:

have donuts as many mornings as possible
ride roller coasters (we live near Kings Island, so this is possible at home)
go out to eat one meal every day
visit local shops
just relax and do nothing
read
have ice cream as many evenings as possible

The only things we couldn't have done are lake-specific and not available at home:

go to the beach
go to the lighthouse where we got engaged 30 years ago

But it got me thinking. If we can do most of the vacation things here at home, why do we go so far away to do them?  Why does it not feel like vacation if we get donuts every day unless we are at the lake?

I'm thinking it because location plays a large role in our ability to relax and take a mental break.  Don't get me wrong, donuts at home are great.  Every day would be awesome, especially if they were actually good for me. But it wouldn't be as relaxing as eating them on a picnic table next to the Marblehead Lighthouse.

This need for relocation is probably true for our students as well.  Taking a "brain break" in the middle of class is good.  Taking the break in the hallway is probably better.  Taking a break outside is probably even better.  Changing the routine every once in a while is good.  Including a change of location as part of the change of routine is probably even better.

So, as you're beginning to plan your year, you may want to consider occasionally relocating your class as a nice vacation from the norm.  And if your students offer to bring in donuts as part of the vacation, say yes.

From the Beginning

Ask anyone.  The first few days of anything are vital.  Whether it's orientation at a new job, training camp for a team, or the beginning of the school year, a lot is riding on those first few days.

I tend to be very intentional about establishing the culture of my classroom during the first few days of class.  This has evolved over the years, and is currently a mix of discussions, videos, and activities that set the expectations for the year, which are:

1. The primary purpose of the class is for the students to improve their ability to think critically and creatively.  
2. To achieve (1), the class is run through collaborative discussions, not lectures.  
3. To make the discussions run well, the students must
• serve others before themselves; in other words, prepare well enough each night so that they can be helpful to others the next day, and learn the material well enough that they can be helpful to others whenever needed
• don't let their ego get in the way; in other words, when they understand a topic, gently and humbly help others, and when they make a mistake or don't understand, humbly admit it and ask for help
• do the work; regardless of the support they receive in class from me or the other students, no one can learn the material for them
• (As a note, thanks to Brian Kight for the help in clarifying the sub-statements here.) 

Whether or not this is effective for any given class is not immediately evident, as it takes a while for the kids to really buy in.  As a teacher, I wish I could get some more immediate feedback from an outside observer on that first day, but let's be honest, every administrator and other teacher is way to consumed with getting their year started well and doesn't have time for this.  I know I wouldn't.

So, it begs the question:

If the first day and the first few days are so vital, how can we arrange things so that teachers - especially new teachers, but seriously, we all could use the help - can get feedback on their first day routine?  

Any ideas?

Soft Skills

It's common at this point to hear that we should be teaching the "4 Cs" in our classrooms: critical thinking, creativity, communication, and collaboration.  These are sometime referred to as "soft skills", as compared to the "hard skills" that are more content-driven. 

However, many teachers shy away from emphasizing let alone teaching the soft skills, despite their importance.  Why?  Because the soft skills are harder to teach and harder to assess.  It's easy to check to see if a student can factor or find a derivative.  It's easier to tell kids exactly what they need to memorize and then check to make sure they've memorized it.  And I'm sorry, but the contrived word problems in math books don't count as evidence of critical thinking.  Most of the time teachers emphasize particular "types" of word problems, and the kids just memorize the key words and the process involved in solving them.  Critical thinking and creativity play no role in the solution of these problems, collaboration plays no role in memorizing the solution process required by the teacher, and the only communication expected is using proper mathematical notation. 

It's way more difficult to check to see if a student can creatively solve a complex exercise, especially since "creativity" may not strike during the allotted 50 minutes of an in-class assessment.  As anyone who has done any kind of research will tell you, days or weeks can go by without any progress being made.  Does that mean the researcher doesn't know how to think critically or that they aren't creative?  Of course not. It means that patience and perseverance are part of the package.

Patience and perseverance are also required if we expect the students to develop their critical thinking and creativity through collaboration.  As teachers, we need to get comfortable with working with the kids as they struggle through the material, and abandon the idea of delivering the material to them in nice, neat, lesson-sized pieces.  The struggle is less stressful if the kids work together, and in the process they practice the real communication skills they will need in the future.  It may seem like it takes longer, but there is still plenty of time to cover the content if we use it to work on the soft skills.

As teachers, we need to stop doing what's convenient and start doing what's important.  We need to stop focusing exclusively on the content, and start using the content to help the kids develop the soft skills.  In the long run, the soft skills will be more useful to the kids than the vast majority of the content we are required to teach them.  It can happen, and in fact it is happening in lots of classrooms.  The only question is whether or not we are willing to put in the time necessary to creating a classroom environment where all the students comfortably embrace the patience and perseverance needed to develop these soft skills. 

Thinking Long-Term

So, a question:

What skills that students learn in your class do you hope they will still find useful five years after they have graduated from high school?

Let's be honest.  It won't be factoring, or solving a system of equations, or calculating a derivative by hand.  It won't be finding the symbolism in a novel or remembering the exact date of a battle from the Revolutionary War. 

Speaking for myself, the skills we focus on in my classroom are collaboration, communication,  creativity, and critical thinking.  The mathematical content of the course is merely the means through which we develop and practice those skills.  Not that the math isn't important, and not that the kids don't learn the math; it is, and they do.  However, if it takes them a little longer to become proficient with the content, that's fine, because it's an opportunity for them to work on perseverance, which will be far more useful to them in the future.  Rather than giving them all of the information they need to pass the next quiz or the next test, it is worth it to create the scaffold for them to climb as they work their way through the material, because in the process they will learn the mathematics more deeply and work on the more vital skills listed above. 

One of the issues is that so many of us focus on the short-term learning of the content rather than on the long-term learning of the 4 Cs.  Ironically, if we were to focus more on the long-term learning of the 4 Cs, the kids would actually learn the content more deeply and retain it longer. 

The question at hand is this: How do we convince teachers that focusing on the long-term is worth it?

Enjoy the Journey

We can all get better.  All of us.  Better teachers, better spouses, better friends, better parents, better people.

The only thing standing in the way is our willingness to do the work.

The problem is that we get comfortable with who we are and with our accomplishments.  We get comfortable with being good enough.

"I've taught for 20 years, and my students are successful.  Why should I change?  The way I teach is already good enough."
Because you can be a better teacher, and your students deserve it.

"We've been married for 20 years, and we're happy as we are.  Why should I change?  My marriage is already good enough."
Because you can be a better spouse, and your spouse deserves it.

"My kids are grown and they're good people.  Why should I change?  My kids are already good enough."
Because you can be a better parent, and your children deserve it.

"We've been friends for 20 years and it's a great friendship.  Why should I change?  Our friendship is already good enough."
Because you can be a better friend, and your friend deserves it.

Growth stops the second we think we're good enough.  It happens in our students as well.

"I can get a 15% on my final exam and still keep my A.  Why should I study?  What I've already done is good enough."

We need to stop focusing on being good enough, and start focusing of working every day to be our best.  Will we ever get there?  No.  But the destination of "best" is not the goal.  Being constantly engaged in striving to be our best is the goal.  The joy is in the journey.

Drawing the Line

"We have to do it this way to prepare the students for college."

"We have to do it this way to prepare the students for the real world."

Have you ever heard either (or both) of these as justification for some classroom practice, be it instructional or behavioral?  For example:

"We have to take points off if the assignment is late.  The students need to learn that turning things in on time is important in the real world."

Or,

"The students need to learn how to sit through a lecture and take notes, since this is what they'll see in college."

Let's assume the reasoning here is sound, that taking points off of an assignment actually teaches kids responsibility and that students actually learn well from lectures in college. If these are true, then shouldn't we be doing the same things in middle school to prepare the students for high school, which in turn will prepare them for college and the real world?  In which case, shouldn't we be doing the same things in elementary school to prepare the students for middle school, which in turn will prepare them for high school, which in turn will prepare them for college and the real world?  And therefore, shouldn't we be doing the same things in kindergarten to prepare the students for elementary school, which in turn will prepare the students for middle school, which in turn will prepare them for high school, which in turn will prepare them for college and the real world?  In case you don't see the absurdity of the logic yet, you must then agree that we should delivering 50-minute lectures to preschoolers and taking points off of their assignments if they are submitted late, because we need to prepare them for college and the real world.

So where do we draw the line?  When do we say, "OK, this is where research-based classroom practices end and preparation for college and the real world begins."  Here's a thought: Don't abandon best practices in the classroom, ever.  Focus on helping the kids develop the skills they will need regardless of what (or who) shows up next.  Skills like collaboration, creativity, critical thinking, and perseverance.  Skills that will come in handy when the lecturer is unclear or the boss is unpredictable.  Skills that can be acquired in any classroom through any content. 

Oh, and by the way, it's interesting how often those who believe in the importance of turning things in on time are the first people to ask for a deadline extension (or just assume that the deadline doesn't apply to them), and those who believe in the importance of being able to sit through a lecture are the same people who can't last five minutes in a meeting or workshop without displaying the kinds of behavior they would never tolerate if they were in front of the room.

Good Questions

Without a doubt, the most difficult part of running a discussion-based classroom is asking good questions.  Of course, you need to have good questions, regardless of whether you're preparing for a project or daily discussions. And one of the difficulties many of us have is that we never received any training on how to write good questions.  In fact, I have yet to meet a teacher in any discipline who had "how to write good questions" as part of their undergraduate or graduate education program.

We can work on this over the summer, preferably working with others, receiving feedback, learning from and with one another.  You know, living and modeling what we want the kids to do in our classrooms.  This takes a good bit of planning and preparation, and is worth it if you have the time.  In fact, I'd highly recommend it.

However, there is another part of "asking good questions" that often gets overlooked: Asking questions on the fly during the discussions.  Courtesy of our education training or our experience - or both - we ask one, maybe two follow-up questions during our classroom interactions with students, after which we jump to giving them "the answer", often for the sake of time.  For a discussion-based classroom to be successful (or, in my opinion, for any classroom to be successful), we need to give the students more processing time, and we need to train ourselves to encourage this by asking more and better questions during the discussions.  These are difficult to plan for, since how much progress the kids make, and what kind of progress they make, will vary from day to day.  Actually, it will vary from period to period, and from kid to kid.

So, how can we work on this vital skill over the summer?  Here's my suggestion: During every conversation you have, with everyone, try to ask just one additional question of the other person.  Try to make the questions a little deeper, trying to get to  know the other person a little better by pursuing a topic they are interested in, allowing them to naturally expand the conversation.

Then, in the fall, keep this in mind as you have conversations with the kids, both in the hallway and during the content conversations in class, allowing the kids to expand the conversation as much as possible, but interjecting with questions as needed to continue the expansion.

Trust me, it's well worth it, both for the sake of the kids learning the material, and for the sake of building a better relationship with the kids.

The Cynics

I had the pleasure of participating in a panel discussion last week at the math conference at Exeter.  We were asked by the moderator to talk about our successes and difficulties with implementing discussion-based learning, as well as any changes in assessment practices we found necessary.  I always enjoy being on these panels, as it forces me to really think through the method I have found to be so successful for the kids.

As we reached the end of the hour, the final request was to give one piece of advice to those in the audience who are considering implementing discussion-based learning in their classroom.  My immediate reaction was: Outlast the cynics.  Any time you make a substantive change in your classroom (or in your school for that matter), there will be a host of people lining up to criticize your every move.  Without the conviction that what you are doing is what's best for the kids, without the preparation to have the confidence in the way you are going to run your classroom, you will be talked out of making any changes before you begin.

So whatever changes you're thinking of making in your classroom next year, do the work this summer to give yourself the opportunity to succeed, and in that you will give yourself the means necessary to survive the detractors.

Fortunate

I'm at Phillips Exeter Academy this week in Exeter, New Hampshire, attending the annual Anja Greer Conference on Mathematics and Technology, and leading one of the week-long courses.  This is one of several conferences on campus this week, and if you ever get the chance to attend I highly recommend it. This is my sixth time here, and the quality of the sessions and keynote speakers is truly unsurpassed.

One of the people I met here several years ago is Ron Lancaster, a professor at the University of Toronto, where he teaches math teaching methods courses.  Ask anyone who has met him: Ron is one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet.  In talking with Ron a bit this week on several different occasions, he stated what is obvious to everyone at the conference but often goes unspoken: "We are fortunate to be here."

It struck me how often in our day this same sentiment is true but goes unsaid.  Uncomfortable as any particular day may be, take a good, honest look around at your home, your school, and so on, and most of us will come to the conclusion that for all of the complaining we do, things really aren't so bad.  Imagine the difference it would make if we reminded ourselves of this every morning, and then throughout the day. Let's be honest.  The complaining isn't really doing us any good, so why not try something else?

So, starting tomorrow morning, repeat the following as needed:
We are fortunate to be here.

Annual Cycle

It happens over and over again.

End of the school year: Reflect on what went well and what didn't.  Perfectionism takes over.  Reflection focuses on what didn't go well.

Late May/Early June: Choose a course of action to fix what didn't go well.

Early-Mid June: Become convinced that you have plenty of time left in the summer to create anything you need to fix what didn't go well.

Late June/Mid-July: Enjoy summer.  Repeatedly lie about how much time is left in summer.  Procrastinate. 

Late July: Panic because there isn't enough time left to create what you need for next school year.

Early August: Having forgotten what the perfectionist concluded at the end of last school year, become convinced that the changes weren't really needed and that things went pretty well last year.

During the school year: Change a couple things on-the-fly, but nothing is truly transformative.  Complain about how the students procrastinate.

End of the school year: Reflect on what went well and what didn't.  Perfectionism takes over.  Reflection focuses on what didn't go well.

It's still June. There is still time.  The only things needed are commitment and action. The options are to become the stereotype from which the statement "It must be nice to have summers off!" has its origin, or to do the work necessary to make things better for the kids and for you.

As with everything, it's a choice.  It's always a choice.

Seven Books

I want you to imagine reading seven books at the same time.  Read one chapter from one book, then set it down and pick up a second book and read a chapter from it, and so on, cycling back to the first book after you've read a chapter from the seventh book.

Now imagine that you're required to read one chapter from each book every day.  For the sake of removing any excuses, let's say that it's your job to do this.

Actually, let's make it easier: You're allowed to use audio books instead.

At the end of each week, you will take a short written quiz on each of the books, on the material contained in the chapters you were to read that week.  Unless you finished a book that week.  Then the quiz covers the entire book.

Sound ridiculous? Impossible?

So what would make it reasonable?  You are still responsible for the material contained in the seven books at the end of each week. But what would make it easier to obtain and understand and remember the information?

Ah, I've got it: A book club.  Read the required material and then we'll discuss it.  The discussion would help fill in the gaps of things that were missed the first time around.  In fact, it would probably give everyone in the book club a more complete picture of the material, since each of us would bring our own perspectives and reactions. Of course, you'd still need to read the material, since the discussion wouldn't make much sense otherwise, but still. Discussing things with others.  Yep, that would help.

Seven classes each day. Have the students read the material or listen to a lecture every day.  Quizzes at the end of each week.

Or, discuss the material with them.  Which one do you think would have the bigger impact?

Wealth of Experience

Next year will be my 30th year of teaching, and at 52 years old I've got at least another 13-15 years left before I even consider retiring, God willing.  While I have taught the same content for many years, I committed myself to getting better at teaching every year a long time ago, though I now understand that it's really about getting better at supporting my students, about getting better at creating an environment in which they can learn.  One of my favorite sayings is, "If you want to teach for 30 years, that's fine.  Just don't teach the same year 30 times."  I've said this for a while, and it's strange to me that "30 years" is now going to be a reality.

I have a wealth of experience, and I choose to spend that wealth on continual improvement.  I choose to learn from both the mistakes I've made and from the successes I've had, spending my wealth to become (or at least try to become) the teacher my students deserve.  I could choose to spend my wealth on my own comfort, recycling the same lesson plans and the same assessments year after year, just sort of phoning it in and enjoying the consistency and the reduction in stress.  Instead of focusing on my students and striving to become as good as I can be, I could choose to focus on me and remain as good as I have become.  I know teachers who do this, who use their wealth to purchase this entitlement.  But it's just not who I am.

So, how will you spend your wealth of experience?  Even a couple years of experience gives you a little spending money.  Will you spend your wealth on getting better, or on being comfortable?  Will you spend it on you and your students, or just on yourself?  Like everything, it's a choice.  Spend your money wisely.

How do you plan?

Last year, my family and I went to Virginia Beach.  For two of my kids, it was the first time they had ever seen the ocean, and it had been decades since I had been there.

We spent months planning the trip, checking the route, places to eat, things to do, looking at the view from what would be our hotel balcony.  It bordered on obsessive.

When we got there, most of the trip went as planned, although we did leave some time for just exploring, just enjoying the beach at sunrise, watching the dolphins, and wandering through the shops. 

It would have been way more stressful for all of us had we not planned the trip.  In fact, the trip may not have happened at all.

It would not have been as enjoyable had we planned everything down to the last second.  In fact, planning to adjust made it more enjoyable.

For many teachers, summer break is already here.  If you're considering making drastic changes in your classroom next year (for example, moving toward personalized learning or toward discussion-based learning), the time to start planning the change is now.  Be almost obsessive about planning now, while leaving enough room to make slight adjustments along the way. 

It will be way more stressful for you if you do not plan the change well in advance.  In fact, without the planning, the change may not happen at all.

It will not be as enjoyable if you plan everything down to the last second.  In fact, planning to adjust will make it more enjoyable.