"That's fine. You just go in your little work hole."
That was my wife's response.
She had told me about her plan to take Sundays off from classes and just relax. I don't know how to relax, I told her. I have to work.
Her characterization of my habits was (unfortunately) accurate. I'm either at school, night class, or entrenched at my home workstation. A year and a half of a rigorous administrative preparation program on top of full-time teaching, and I've dug in... and developed bad habits. Leisure? What's that?
But Humans need leisure as much as they need useful work. I know that. It just hasn't made it into my life lately. The question is, what to do about it.
Not sure I can answer that definitively in a quick (Sunday) blog post, but here's an idea: If I can't eliminate the big items that crowd my to-do list, maybe I can change my approach to them--not be such a perfectionist about them.
I'm committed to my students at school. I'm committed to becoming a school leader. But I don't need to be committed to perfection on either front.
And the reality is, success in both of these arenas is really about relationships, not how many items I've checked off in my Bullet Journal (as much as I love that thing). Reality is, none of it will be any good without my emotional and social health, and without healthy relationships at home and work. And in fact, if I start there, the rest will probably fall into place.
So, time to crawl out of my little work hole and see the world again.
Let's see if I can succeed at that.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
An experiment in collaboration
We started a new interdisciplinary PLC at E. O. Smith High School, and I feel like we're on the cusp of something big.
Several of us had been experimenting with tech-facilitated differentiation and mastery-based learning, so we started to get together regularly after school to share stories, challenges, and ideas. We use a show-and-tell format, with a different teacher presenting each month. They share what they've been doing. The rest of us listen, then ask questions.
It's been exciting, encouraging, and refreshing. The things these teachers are doing are bold and progressive. The effects of new strategies on students are always hard to predict. We've seen lots of promising results. We've also faced lots of challenges. That's why we need each other.
Thanks to the work of Andy Hargreaves and others, this kind of collaborative culture is growing in schools nationwide, and the power of collaboration is in this:
1) We get new perspectives. It's easy to walk around blinded to what's really going on by confirmation bias, etc. By opening yourself up to other, you get fresh, clearer perspectives on the situation.
2) We get moral support and encouragement. Change is hard. Teaching is hard. Put them together, and you need moral support and encouragement.
3) We get synergy of ideas. It's what author Matt Ridley calls "when ideas have sex." The recombination of ideas that occurs through cooperation and collaboration is what Ridley says gave birth to civilization. Just imagine what's in store for education!
Several of us had been experimenting with tech-facilitated differentiation and mastery-based learning, so we started to get together regularly after school to share stories, challenges, and ideas. We use a show-and-tell format, with a different teacher presenting each month. They share what they've been doing. The rest of us listen, then ask questions.
It's been exciting, encouraging, and refreshing. The things these teachers are doing are bold and progressive. The effects of new strategies on students are always hard to predict. We've seen lots of promising results. We've also faced lots of challenges. That's why we need each other.
Thanks to the work of Andy Hargreaves and others, this kind of collaborative culture is growing in schools nationwide, and the power of collaboration is in this:
1) We get new perspectives. It's easy to walk around blinded to what's really going on by confirmation bias, etc. By opening yourself up to other, you get fresh, clearer perspectives on the situation.
2) We get moral support and encouragement. Change is hard. Teaching is hard. Put them together, and you need moral support and encouragement.
3) We get synergy of ideas. It's what author Matt Ridley calls "when ideas have sex." The recombination of ideas that occurs through cooperation and collaboration is what Ridley says gave birth to civilization. Just imagine what's in store for education!
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Strange Fire
The young man sat by the fireplace on an oaken stool, the left side
of his face, red with the heat of the fire, the flickering flames dancing
in the pupils of his eyes, eyes fixed on the wrinkled hands of the old
man.
On the other side of the room, the old man reached down into the earthen furnace and withdrew the glass sphere that he had earlier planted there. The fierce fire had since cooled, and the glass bulb was black with tar.
The young man’s eyes suddenly widened with astonishment as the old man rubbed the glass with his work worn fingers. As the greasy blackness of the tar rubbed off onto his hands, there appeared a faint greenish glow from within, dimmed by the film of soot. The old man removed a rag from his pocket, and firmly wiped the side of the sphere, and all at once a bright shaft of light broke from the cleaned spot as if ten candles flickered within.
The old man rubbed the whole sphere with a circular motion, and the smearing tar made weaving patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling of the hovel. As he cleaned, the light in the room slowly grew brighter and brighter until it was as bright as day.
Satisfied with his work, the old man held up the sphere in front of his face and gazed at the stange forms within. The young man had moved his stool closer now, and was staring at the dancing, nebulous flames within the glass. He could not speak for some time. Finally, he whispered, “What is it, sir?”
The old man paused, drew a deep breath, as if he were finally relieved of a heavy burden, and he spoke slowly, a faint smile spreading across his lips, “It is the fire…” he drew another breath, his eyes fixed on the flames, “from deep within the world.”
*Reposted from my old writing blog, Kosmosis.
On the other side of the room, the old man reached down into the earthen furnace and withdrew the glass sphere that he had earlier planted there. The fierce fire had since cooled, and the glass bulb was black with tar.
The young man’s eyes suddenly widened with astonishment as the old man rubbed the glass with his work worn fingers. As the greasy blackness of the tar rubbed off onto his hands, there appeared a faint greenish glow from within, dimmed by the film of soot. The old man removed a rag from his pocket, and firmly wiped the side of the sphere, and all at once a bright shaft of light broke from the cleaned spot as if ten candles flickered within.
The old man rubbed the whole sphere with a circular motion, and the smearing tar made weaving patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling of the hovel. As he cleaned, the light in the room slowly grew brighter and brighter until it was as bright as day.
Satisfied with his work, the old man held up the sphere in front of his face and gazed at the stange forms within. The young man had moved his stool closer now, and was staring at the dancing, nebulous flames within the glass. He could not speak for some time. Finally, he whispered, “What is it, sir?”
The old man paused, drew a deep breath, as if he were finally relieved of a heavy burden, and he spoke slowly, a faint smile spreading across his lips, “It is the fire…” he drew another breath, his eyes fixed on the flames, “from deep within the world.”
*Reposted from my old writing blog, Kosmosis.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Top 2 reasons to get on Twitter right now
So, you're hesitant to get on Twitter.
Maybe it's because you're content with Facebook, Snapchat, Tumblr, Pinterest, Instagram, We Chat or whatever.
Maybe you aren't on any social media sites because you feel like they are narcissistic, materialistic, artificial, anti-social, harmful, or simply a waste of time.
I can understand some of those feelings, and I'm not thrilled with some of the potential side-effects/hurdles of social media, but I still think you should get on them, particularly on Twitter. Here's why.
Maybe it's because you're content with Facebook, Snapchat, Tumblr, Pinterest, Instagram, We Chat or whatever.
Maybe you aren't on any social media sites because you feel like they are narcissistic, materialistic, artificial, anti-social, harmful, or simply a waste of time.
I can understand some of those feelings, and I'm not thrilled with some of the potential side-effects/hurdles of social media, but I still think you should get on them, particularly on Twitter. Here's why.
I can tell my favorite author (@ramez) how much I loved his book (#nexus).. and he tweets back.
I can tweet about my first #honey harvest (#beekeeping) and an expert beekeeper from new Zealand congratulates me and engages me in conversation about treatments for mites (varroa destructor).
I can chat, real-time, every Saturday morning with educators from around the world at #satchat.
I can instantly publish my thoughts to/interact with the world with the right #hashtag.
Amazing. Not since #Gutenberg has such a seismic shift taken place. And that's an understatement. I think the printing press was nothing compared to what we'll see as a result of the #internet. Imagine all of the ideas of all of the minds of all of the people of the world suddenly connected and building off of each other. That's what's coming.
Reason #2: As a high school teacher, it's a blast to interact with my students about #chemistry (#chemaeos), #biology (#eosbio) & #science outside of class.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Towards more responsive rigor
The headmaster sat across the desk from me and listened as I explained my predicament. I was a new teacher, and my students hadn't done so well on their first honors chemistry test. Should I lower my standard?
"Absolutely not," he replied, "Make them come up to your level."
Then he told me a story.
An old headmaster was asked by a parent what would be a good course of study for her son. The old priest answered, "Any course of study is sufficient, as long as it is difficult and at least a little unpleasant."
I think most of my chemistry students would say that I listened to that old headmaster. I've always thought that the most important part of my job was to act as resistance training for their minds. But too often I've ended up with large test adjustments and students slipping through the cracks. So though it's still my mission to be like a demanding athletic coach in the classroom, I've been trying to make my rigor more responsive.
The most common modern educational meaning of rigor is "cognitive rigor," which involves Webb's Depth of Knowledge (DOK) and/or Bloom's Taxonomy. Both of these basically say that it's harder to apply knowledge and evaluate alternatives than it is to memorize and describe, especially when applying and evaluating in different contexts. Solving equations in math class is one thing, applying them to solve a problem in chemistry is another. The high levels of Bloom's and Webb's have a lot in common with critical thinking, which is one of the "4 Cs" of 21st century learning, along with communication, collaboration, and creativity.
One cool thing about this definition of rigor is that ALL students can achieve a high DOK level. For some, this might mean using addition and subtraction to create a budget. For others, it may mean using statistics to design an experiment. Both are rigorous for that student.
And this is where I have significant room for improvement. It requires attention to the needs of individual students, the way a good coach monitors each runner, swimmer, or player to keep them continuously pushing the envelope of their individual ability with each new skill. Auto racing driver Danica Patrick expressed this well in Honda's excellent video, Failure: The Secret to Success:
"You're driving your car and you feel frightened a little bit. We bump up against that feeling as much as we can to try and push that limit further and get comfortable there and then push it again."
But this is difficult in a traditional high school classroom, so I've been working on differentiated alternatives: a project- and mastery-based geology class, and a differentiated biology class. My flipped chemistry class is a step in that direction as well. By allowing students choice and flexibility in pace, process, and product, you allow for differences in readiness and interest.
Then, by using a mastery model, which allows multiple attempts until the standard is met, and providing ample, personalized support, you enable every student to reach rigorous standards. Ideally, the outcome is twofold: 1) every student leaves the school as a competent critical thinker, communicator, collaborator, and creator, and 2) they learn perseverance (grit? a subject for a later post). In short, they are die-hard mental athletes, and you are their crazy coach.
And I think that was the message behind that old headmaster's advice. The content itself doesn't matter, "Any course of study is sufficient, as long as it is difficult and at least a little unpleasant." I'd just add one thing. It should be difficult because it teaches the student to think critically, collaborate, create, and communicate, because these are the skills they'll need to reach their potentials in the 21st century (and beyond). And it should be personalized, so that every student succeeds.
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