What’s the purpose of school?

Every so often I take 19 minutes and 10 seconds to listen to the talk Sir Ken Robinson gave at TED2006. Each time I do, I laugh, and each time I feel inspired to keep working. I listen to it at those times when I feel I’m working all alone against a system that seems to be obsolete or, at best, broken. I listen when I feel all my efforts are futile and that I’m simply not making a difference. It’s like a rallying speech I imagine a football coach might give at half time. It always spurs me onward. He makes plenty of thoughtful comments in his 19 minutes on stage but among them is the idea that the purpose of public education is to produce university professors. Where I teach, it seems like the purpose of public education is to produce doctors and engineers.

To be honest, most teenagers don’t dream of being scientists, mathematicians, or English professors, so I have to wonder why we continue to tell them that those subjects are so important. When I talk to students about what they plan to do after high school, more often than not they say they don’t really know. Some say nursing, or medicine or engineering, and a few say science – although I don’t believe they know what they would do with a science degree. Mostly they simply don’t know. At most schools they get the message loud and clear that university is the goal. I mean we don’t post signs in the corridors but it’s there in subtle, suggestive ways.

We don’t spend much time encouraging students to become artists, musicians, or activists. Instead we talk lots about good grades and getting a good job. Well, what is a good job? That can’t have the same meaning to all students. Is it really all about math and science? That seems a bit disingenuous. What about acting? Or dancing? Or painting? What about farming? Or carpentry? Or child care? A typical student attending most schools would see little evidence that those jobs are valued. I’m really lucky to teach at a school where students can get a wide experience if they want to. They can study art, music, dance, theatre, yoga, or child care. They can take classes in entrepreneurship, cooking and food service, fashion design, interior design, internal combustion engines, house framing – the list goes on. Still, is simply offering these courses enough to change the message? I’m not sure. We don’t always have enough students for fashion design but each year there are a few grade 12 math classes. As teachers, are we speaking loudly enough about the value of these career choices that students will be brave enough to follow them? If we don’t put value on ALL subjects it means that lots of students who have remarkable talents and great skills to offer might never think they do because the system never tells them those talents or skills are useful.

Students are good at lots of different things. I’ve learned more about some students in a few minutes spent looking at their sketch book or talking about their role in the school musical than I have from months in biology class. If we don’t offer them opportunities to explore and nurture their passions what kind of world will we be building? If we don’t assure them that their interests and talents are important how can they ever realize their potential? I can admit that there are far more important things in life than mitosis and photosynthesis so it’s time to make sure that all students recognize that also.

What do you think?

Does school kill curiosity?

The imagination and curiosity of a child begins to die the first time a teacher says “Be careful to color inside the lines” or “Why did you make the leaves purple?” or “Well, everyone knows what the author meant by that line.” Slowly, but surely, their curiosity is eroded and their willingness to express themselves is dissolved. We teach them to pick out what we feel is important and give us the answers we are expecting. We teach them their opinion doesn’t really count. We tell them to ask questions but our actions say “don’t bother.”

Sometimes, my AP Biology class invites some grade 2 students to our school to spend some time in our lab doing an investigation. The enthusiasm and excitement of the students is remarkable. “What’s that?” “My seed is kind of smooth” “Why does mine have spiky things on it?” These are questions I’ve heard them ask my students as they looked at the seeds they were studying.

Now I think of the students in my classes – so many glossy eyes returning blank stares. So many of them disinterested and apathetic, going through the motions, sticking to the routine, content with mediocrity; most never asking a single question in class – ever. Will those little grade 2 students, so full of curiosity and enthusiasm for learning one day be staring at me as a grade 12 students in my class? My fear is yes they will.

I’m certain none of us ever set out to take the fun out of learning but, somehow, that’s what has happened. If you ask teachers what they want to do, lots of us say things like motivate – challenge – inspire. We want to help students grow and develop. And yet look at our practice. Look into our classrooms. What do you see? Are the students sitting in tidy rows all copying something from the board so that they may later write it down as the expected answer on the test? Are the desks all facing the front so the students can dutifully look to the teacher for the answers? We require them to take certain classes, bells ring at certain times and assignments are due on certain days. An A is always better than a B. It seems everything about school is rigid, inflexible, and structured. There seems to be a whole lot of listening and memorizing and not much learning. Should I really be surprised when so many have lost all interest?!

Don’t get me wrong – I know we can’t have “free range” students. They’re young and need lots of guidance. But there’s a difference between guidance and control. Some things we can’t change. But some we can. How many times have we handed them a worksheet to complete or had  them answer questions 1 through 9 at the end of the chapter or read silently from a novel? Is this really the best we can do? We don’t let them choose because we have to cover the curriculum. Our assignments often consist of rote learning or practicing skills. We are obsessed with grades and standings. I think there is a better way.

I always thought when a student failed to complete an assignment it was because they were lazy. Maybe it’s because they just didn’t see the point. Maybe to them the assignment was irrelevant or meaningless. Maybe it really was! We have to make learning have meaning for students.

What if we could get them really thinking and participating? What if we could convince them that they had some control over their education?
What if we let them make some decisions? What if they could choose some of the topics they learn and how we teach those topics? What if they thought we actually valued their opinions? Can we expect students to be invested in education if they have no hand in its creation in any meaningful way?

Albert Einstein said “imagination is more important than knowledge.” If we believe that we have to bring exploration back to the classroom. We have to let our students rediscover the fun of learning. We have to rediscover the fun ourselves. We have to engage them in ways that are meaningful to them. I know I have lots to think about when it comes to changing my classroom. How do you want to change yours?

Does an Education degree make you a teacher?

I was talking with my intern yesterday about my own experience in the B. Ed. program and thought I’d write about it. I wasn’t taught how to be a teacher. I mean sure I took all the classes, did the assignments, and wrote the exams and then the University of New Brunswick awarded me a degree but that certainly did NOT make me a teacher. I remember as if it were yesterday the feeling of absolute terror my classmates and I had as each of us prepared to head out into our practicum. We had lots of talks about how scared we were – how unprepared we felt. We had learned all about how to make unit plans and lesson plans and were well-versed in the law and code of ethics. I even got pretty good grades on my assignments (if I do say so myself). There was one little detail that all of our classes failed to address – how to stand in front of 30 students who are all looking to you to be the teacher. GULP!

The supervising teacher for my practicum threw me to the wolves right away. On my first day I was given a full teaching load and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Those poor students. I remember preparing for my first few lessons. I checked all my facts and had my overhead transparencies all ready (remember those things?). I even timed each part of my lesson to be sure I had enough material. Then, as the class began and I stood there looking out at all those eyes looking back at me it REALLY hit me: I had no idea what I was doing! Who was I kidding? What was I going to do? So I did the only thing I could – I started my lesson and hoped for the best. Luckily, I teach at an exceptional school (I now teach at the school where I did my internship) and the students were all very kind, understanding and supportive. But I certainly was not a teacher!

After my internship I had to take two or three more classes to meet the graduation requirements and the diploma they gave me said I was qualified to teach (although it was in Latin so I really didn’t know what it said at the time). The next fall I got my own classroom and on that first day in September I looked at a room full of students and it hit me: I really DO have some idea what I’m doing! Ok, maybe I didn’t really know what I was doing but I certainly knew there was more to this than talking about the notes I had written in front of me and pointing to a picture of a cell on the overhead! For sure it was not my degree that prepared me for this – it was my internship. Making lesson plans and seating charts was the easy part. The hard part was realizing that all my students didn’t love biology as much as I did (some of them didn’t even LIKE it if you can imagine that!), and dealing with exceptional learners, and the kid who hadn’t eaten yet that day, and the one who’s parents had just separated, and the one who’s girlfriend just broke up with him. I must have stayed home sick the day we covered those topics. As it turned out, everything I learned during my education degree I could have easily learned on my own by reading a few books. I said to my intern that the coursework was about 70% useless to be perfectly honest. What I really needed were the skills to cope with these kids as “people” and not simply as “students.” Those were the tools I needed if I ever wanted to become an effective teacher. I think this issue must be recognized and addressed at universities wherever teacher-training is being done. It needs to be addressed in schools where beginning teachers are doing internships and starting their careers. Novice teachers have to be able to work together with mentors to learn the “art” of teaching. If we want our schools to help students become successful, balanced, healthy, productive people we need to give ALL teachers the skills they need to get the job done. How are universities willing to change to meet this challenge of creating capable teachers?

The truth is it doesn’t matter how many papers you write or lesson plans you develop, or even how much time you spend discussing pedagogy. The only way to learn to teach is to get out and watch good teachers. To spend time talking with people who are really good at it and learn from them. At the University of New Brunswick, where I attended, a 17 week internship is part of the B. Ed. Program and I think that’s a great start. The interns get some invaluable experience in real classrooms with real students. Good teachers are made in classrooms in front of students. That’s where we learn how to be creative, effective, and reflective. I know that has certainly been the case for me and it continues to be even now. I’m still learning from my colleagues as I collaborate with them to develop and refine my technique. I’ve even learned a thing or two from my intern but don’t tell him that.  😉

What do you think it takes to start feeling like a teacher?

Hands up if you love parent-teacher

When I think of parent-teacher conferences I often think of the old Clint Eastwood film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Mind you I don’t feel like a bounty hunter searching for gold in a cemetery but the title fits nonetheless (my apologies if that movie reference is a bit obscure). Believe me when I say I’ve had all three types of parents – as I’m sure you have. I’ll get back to that later. First, I have to admit that I always go into parent-teacher night feeling a little resentful. I mean, there we are working overtime for free to spend an evening having 4-5 minute meetings with parents. And for what? I’m not sure I can remember more than a handful of times that talking with a parent made any difference at all in a student’s performance in class. Oh sure, plenty of times I’ve seen students that seem really keen and start doing all the right things but after a week or so it’s back to the same old pattern. To be honest it seems pretty futile.

As if that’s not bad enough, I never seem to meet with the parents I really need to meet. The kid that skips class regularly, the one that falls asleep every day, the one that zones out most days and doesn’t complete any assignments. I rarely see the parents of those kids. Usually I spend my night talking with parents of students who have 80% or above and are nearly perfectly behaved. I always chuckle to myself (and sometimes aloud) when those parents ask “Is there any trouble in class? You know, like misbehavior or anything?” Having said that, should I be surprised that I see mostly parents of good students? After all, that’s mostly the reason that good students are good students – their parents have always been involved in their education and invested in them. Their parents have always come to parent-teacher night. I’m convinced that good parents make a bigger difference in education than good teachers or good schools. Maybe a bigger difference than both of those combined.

But I digress. I started by talking about Clint Eastwood. I could write lots about all the bad and the ugly parents but that wasn’t my motivation for writing this post. I could tell you about the father who said to his wife “I just want to take a swing at this guy” or the parents who asked when I would be “discussing the alternatives to evolution.” I remember the parent who said  “So all the assignments have to be typed? What’s THAT about?” I could even mention the father who was outraged at my having the nerve to ask his son to apologize to the class for telling them all to f*** off! The list goes on and on and we all have stories like those. I’m sure mine even seem tame compared to some you can think of.

My reason for writing this was not to talk about the bad or the ugly, but the good. We’ve all had really positive interactions with parents and I find it’s important to remind myself of that fact from time to time. I think of the parents who said “we don’t have anything to discuss but we just had to come in to meet the teacher we’ve heard so much about” or the ones who said “every night at supper our son says ‘guess what we learned in biology?’” or “thanks so much for challenging her to really think.” For me, it is those very comments that are the motivation I need to continue working hard. Those comments encourage me when it seems like I’m banging my head against the wall or when the bureaucracy of education is overwhelming and demoralizing. Those comments keep me going when it seems like all my students are apathetic and indifferent.

I admit that it’s completely self-serving to think about all those positive meetings and it wouldn’t be honest or fair to not recognize another important aspect of parent-teacher night – maybe the most important. Sometimes parents come in because they need to vent frustration with trying to deal with their child. Sometimes they need a sympathetic ear. Many times they are struggling and looking for help so they reach out to teachers. It’s always difficult to hear parents say “I just don’t know what to do anymore” or “we’ve tried everything.” I don’t have children so I can’t imagine their heartbreak and frustration. I can’t empathize with their feelings of helplessness. What I can do is see the desperation in their eyes and hear their plea for help. And so I sit, and listen, and offer what comfort and advice I can. And at the end of the night I think “Yeah. That’s what parent-teacher is for.”

Of course that was planned!

My intern said something to me the other day that got me thinking. The class had ended and the students had just left when I said “Oh no! I forgot to take attendance.” He replied “When I was a student all that stuff seemed to be so natural and organized I never thought anything about it. Now I see that it’s not always the case!” He was just teasing but it made me think about how much goes on behind the scenes that students never see. The amount of work and planning that goes into making an activity or a lesson successful. Setting up a lab and then putting everything away afterward. The time it takes to create a great SMART Board lesson or a worksheet to reinforce something we’ve discussed. I’m sure they think that stuff just all happens. Magic maybe? Elves? Maybe those things are on the list teachers secretly mail to Santa every year.

Then it got me thinking about how much of teaching really isn’t planned. The number of times I’ve been in class when I’m not as prepared as I should be. We’ve all found ourselves in a situations where, for one reason or another, we had to wing it! Times when we were desperately trying to hide the fact that we were terrified – realizing that everything could fall apart at any moment and just hoping to make it to the bell. Afraid they might discover that every class wasn’t a perfectly planned, carefully synchronized ballet. Worried they might see in your eyes the fact that you’re only a day ahead of them in the curriculum.

But that got me thinking about something else. A large part of teaching is really about having a goal in mind and a general path but being ready to veer off in any direction when an unexpected opportunity arises. Sometimes a student tosses out a question that steers us in an unexpected direction. To be good teachers we have to be ready for those – welcome them even – and make the most of them. Trust me – that takes more than a little courage. It’s pretty nerve-wracking heading into unknown territory without the reassurance of our lesson plan and our teacher’s guide. When we do, we often find that the surprise turns can actually turn out to be the richest teaching opportunities. After all, if it’s driven by student questions, it’s relevant and important to them.

The teacher’s day often appears smooth because of the immense amount of preparation and planning that went into it, but sometimes the best lessons are the ones that appear planned but were born out of pure luck.

Ever feel like you’re flying by the seat of your pants? I’d like to hear about it.

You can’t win a power struggle

No matter what we do in our classrooms, no matter how approachable we are or how reasonable our classroom rules are, some students will test us. For me, these times are relatively rare because I’m fortunate enough to teach mostly grade twelve, elective courses. Still, sometimes a student decides to push the limits a little bit to see what he (I say “he” because, in my experience, it’s nearly always a he) can get away with.

When this happens I usually ignore the behaviour at first because in lots of cases the kid is just seeking attention. If I don’t react, the behaviour usually goes away. If it doesn’t, the next step is an uncomfortably long eye lock. Essentially, I’m trying to avoid saying anything out loud because that would only cause an additional distraction in the class. If that doesn’t work I’m forced to address the issue directly. I try not to use the student’s name though. Often a simple “Gentlemen, please” or “Ladies?” while maintaining eye contact with the offenders will do it. If it’s just one kid I might try “Could you please not do that while I’m teaching?” With this method most students in the class don’t even know who I was talking to.

The situation is trickiest when it’s just one student because I want to avoid a power struggle at all costs! I learned that lesson early on and I learned it the hard way. The kid acting out will sometimes do anything to avoid losing face in front of his or her peers and that often means the situation will escalate quickly to something far more serious than the original behaviour. The two worst things to do are call the student by name or point him or her out in any way. If the student feels threatened or embarrassed things usually get worse. Having said that, there have been a few times I’ve had no option but to address the student directly by name. I never make a big scene in front of the class but say something like “Can you stick around to see me after class?” That usually lets the student know things have gone too far.

After class I can let the kid know that the behaviour can’t continue. I usually say something like “what are we going to do about this?” or “how can we fix this?” I explain that I need some time to teach the lesson each day and I need his cooperation to make that happen. I find if I can make the student see my side of it without being authoritarian or angry, they’re pretty good about trying to comply. Most students are basically pretty good kids.

What’s your approach?

Some days I’m boring

You know what? Some days I’m boring. Not every day can be packed full of exciting lessons and entertaining teaching technique. I shudder to think how boring I must have been when I first started teaching. Yikes! Those poor students. It must have been brutal at times. I was barely surviving the first few years. Most of the time I was just a day ahead of the students so there was certainly no time to be clever, witty, or in any way comical. A typical class was a mixture of me talking nearly nonstop for an hour (or 75 minutes back when we had to endure that insult to education!) and scribbling on the chalk board. On a good day, I got out the colored chalk! Now there’s a highlight for ANY student!

Judging by the amount of fun my students and I have in class nowadays, I think things are quite different compared to the early years. As I’ve become more relaxed with my curriculum content, more of my personality has been able to come through in my classroom and that has made things more fun for me. I think it’s made it more fun for my students too.

Nevertheless, the truth is inescapable – some days I’m boring. We’re all human, right? It might be hard to believe but not every single thing we learn in high school biology has students on the edge of their seats. And – brace yourself – some of it is just plain dull! But I can’t always blame the material. Some days it’s me. There’s no escaping that truth. It takes lots of energy to keep things fresh and lively and at times I’m just plain tired and don’t have what it takes. On those days I look out over my students and I see that some of them are barely hanging on and I think “Oh geez. The poor things. I’m killing ’em softly with my vioce.”

So my efforts to find better and more interesting ways to engage the students continues. Searching for new activities and refining old ones; developing brand new ones; looking for better ways of doing things. Working closely with the biology team at my school to try out new ideas. And by doing so, I hope I get a little better every year.

Am I alone in this thought? I’d love to hear about how you keep your classroom fun and fresh.

Got rules?

I’ve noticed that the teachers who seem to have the most difficulty with students are those who have the most rules. I’ve actually been in classrooms where there’s a list of rules posted on the wall! Yikes! Do they think students remember all those? What about the kids’ other teachers who might have different rules? Do students keep the rules all straight? Something tells me they don’t – that’s why they’re always in trouble or being sent to the office. And that’s another thing. Do students really have to be sent to the office because they didn’t do their homework or left garbage on the floor? Maybe we need to relax on the rules a little and change our approach on this.

So what rules do I have then? Basically none. That doesn’t mean my classroom is a circus or my students are out of control. What I have is one general guideline: mutual respect. That means each student shows every other student respect and should expect the same in return. The same goes for me. Students demonstrate respect for me and I in return show that I respect them. This approach naturally builds rapport with the students because I treat them as young adults and in a way that says I care about them, their lives, and their opinions. This is really a climate of expectations rather than rules. I have expectations of my students and they don’t often disappoint me. The outcome is that I can spend my time on energy on teaching and them on learning rather than annoying classroom management.

The students don’t always arrive in my class with some innate sense of respect and appropriate behaviour so I always spell it out for them. The rule of thumb is that they should never do anything that is going to interfere with someone else. It’s pretty simple. Naturally some students need a  little coaching from time to time because they don’t always make the best choices. So the student who falls asleep or spends too much time texting instead of staying on task might need a reminder that his or her time could be spent more productively. But I don’t need to get angry, yell, or confiscate cell phones. Everyone is generally happier.

How do you handle rules in your classroom?

AP – is it really worth it?

I’ve been teaching AP biology since 1999 and I ask myself that question every single year when it comes time to talk about our teaching assignments for the following year. Don’t’ get me wrong – I recognize the irony of this dilemma. I mean most teachers would say “Yeah, that must be really tough. Teaching really keen, motivated students material at a university level!” And it’s true. The students are great. The material is interesting. The class is fun and engaging.

So what’s the problem? To be honest, it’s the pressure of the responsibility I feel from that darned exam! It’s the sword of Damocles. Always there, dangling by that horse hair. No matter what I tell myself about the exam “not meaning anything” or “it’s the experience that really counts” those exam scores are there to haunt me. The feeling you get from the seeing a score of 1 or 2. Ugh! How depressing! After all my hard work and effort; after all the time I spend making such clever, entertaining lessons; after all the hours I put into making and grading tests and labs. YOU GET A 1?!?!

Ok, that was a little melodramatic. There’s a kernel of truth there though. It’s hard to not take it personally when a student does poorly – especially on an external exam – we’ve all been there. I guess the reason I keep teaching AP Biology is simple – it’s the students who say it made a real difference.

What’s your experience with AP? Do you find the hard work rewarding? Tell me about it.

The guide on the side?

Teachers love to talk. Some even love to hear themselves talk. I can think of a few teachers who I’m pretty sure became teachers only so they could have a captive audience. Once I began looking at my teaching practice I realized one of the things I wanted to do was step out of the spotlight. My classes consisted basically of the students coming in, me talking for nearly an hour nonstop, and then the students leaving. I began to realize that when I do all the talking, students become little drones, sitting and waiting for me to instruct them. They don’t think for  themselves. Most of the time they aren’t even listening until I start writing something on the board. There had to be a better way. I thought if I stopped being the focus, maybe the students could talk a little more both to me and to each other. And maybe they could even learn more.

I have to admit right up front that this prospect made me a little uncomfortable. I mean, aren’t I the expert here? I’m the one with the knowledge, after all. Isn’t the teacher supposed to teach? Well, teaching don’t mean always talkin’!

What I discovered is that, with some guidance (ok, sometimes lots of guidance) students can learn on their own. Sure there are lots of concepts that I have to explain to them in a traditional fashion but once they have the framework, they can deepen their understanding by actually talking with one another. So I began to look for and develop activities that allowed them to do just that. Activities that reinforce what we’ve learned and let them dig a little deeper to find connections between concepts. The cost? I’ve had to sacrifice some detail and cut parts of some topics because I’m giving  time to the students to discuss things. But it’s worth it. It goes along with  my attempts to escape memorization too.

By talking things over with their peers, they develop a better understanding of the concepts. By working together on problems or case studies they are learning how to apply the material rather than just memorize it without any meaningful context. I’m convinced that they take from it a better understanding of what I’ve taught them. And they don’t have to listen to me blather on all the time!

Do you have trouble stepping aside and letting the students lead some of the learning in class? I’d like to hear about it.