Mastering (and loving) math at the Depot

We've made lots of big changes this year at the Depot, but this may be the most important one:

More math.

There's been a lot of talk lately about the importance of social skills for jobs, but jobs requiring a combination of math AND social skills have shown even more growth.

That's why we've ramped up the math.

But how do you ramp up math at a tiny school where the students are out of the building two days a week, and none of the teachers are certified in math?

It's called ALEKS, and I'm not the only one who likes it. I've had multiple students actually say to me, "I love ALEKS."

How can this happen? They used to say they hated math.

Well, maybe that's changing.

ALEKS is an online math learning system. We enroll students in courses, like Algebra and Geometry, they read tutorials, and then they practice the skills online two hours a week.

What's so cool about ALEKS is that it is a mastery based program. Students start by taking an initial assessment of their skills in each course. It tells them how many topics they have already mastered, and starts them THERE. They may start 20% or 30% of the way through the course, if they already know that much of the material!

ALEKS shows them their progress in a way that is rewarding and motivating, and they only move forward after they've mastered a topic. It gives them periodic "knowledge checks" along the way, and will send them back to relearn topics if necessary, even on their final assessment. There are no grades, because they don't finish until they have mastered 100% of the topics in the course.

If students are not progressing fast enough, we move them to an easier course. For example, a student who is hitting the wall in Algebra is moved to High School Preparation for Algebra, so she can get the skills she needs to go back and tackle Algebra 1 later in the year. If a student is moving quickly, they may get through more than one course in a single year--more credit, and more progress toward college and career!

Right now, our average progress on Geometry and Algebra 2 is 36%. Not bad for independent, online study!

All of this just confirms what I've been thinking lately: Kids don't hate school because it doesn't match their learning style, they hate it because they feel they're not good at it. 

Imagine if we could change that! Just imagine if every student left this place with a new confidence in their math skills?

Imagine the doors that would open for them, not only to college and careers, but to new ways of understanding the world?

What would real community look like?

What would it look like if our school were a real community--the kind humans are built for?

In his recent book, Tribe, Sebastian Junger argues that humans are built for a closeness of community that we rarely experience today. Early American colonists, for example, often ran away to live with native Americans, while the opposite almost never happened. Apparently, they craved the kind of intimacy and unity the natives had so much they were willing to give up the comforts of civilization to get it.

These days, this kind of community is very hard to come by. In fact, according to Junger, it only happens in times of disaster and war, when people draw together in a common cause of survival, and boundaries of race and class temporarily break down. But do we really need a war or disaster to get back to our roots?

I'd love to see this kind of community at our school, but how could we create it? Is there something we could rally around--a "crisis," or "survival situation"  that would give us all a common purpose? I was doubtful, but then this week, something happened that made me hopeful we can do it.

There was an incident. Some students messed up, publicly, and in such a way that I called everyone together for two restorative circles over two days. each time, we all sat around and passed the talking stick, answering questions ranging from "What happened?" and "Who was harmed, and how?" to "What can we do to make it good?"

There was embarrassment, avoidance, denial, apology, remorse, thoughtfulness, irritation and even anger as difficult topics were brought up, personalities and ideas clashed, and we tried to work this thing out together.

It was uncomfortable at times, difficult and tiring, but I think it was worth it, because as I reflected on this yesterday, I realized something: This is how it could happen. The community, I mean.

If our community is so valuable that we refuse to sweep issues under the rug, if we force ourselves to draw out conflicts like poison from a wound, if we wrestle with our mistakes and differences, instead of hiding them or turning them into walls between us, maybe we can achieve just a little bit of what those early colonists were looking for.

Maybe it doesn't take a war, or maybe the wars that are always between us and within us are enough. Maybe the disasters in our own lives and relationships, and the conflicts in our own minds and midst can be enough to unite us into the kind of community that's in our DNA.

It's worth a shot, isn't it?