For several years now, I have given a group task instead of a test for our unit on functions in Algebra 1. We do so many collaborative group activities as we explore patterns, domain/range, and functions/relations that giving a group assessment seems the only reasonable choice.
Students (in groups of four) travel to seven different stations around the school. Many of the tasks are open-ended, all are more challenging that I would give on a standard test. While I like the activity a lot, this year I spent a good deal of time thinking about assessing the task. I wanted it to be out of a certain number of points that was not necessarily the same as the number of parts within each station. Rather than grading each step for its own sake, I was forced to consider the entire body of work and determine the students' level of understanding. I realized that this is essentially how SBG works and why I find it so preferable to traditional grading. In traditional grades, it might be the case that one student misses more parts of problems (and thus earns a lower grade) but has better overall understanding than another student who has a surface level understanding but can better complete the steps of a process. Of course, this also speaks to the nature of the question being asked.
It may have taken me four years, but I finally understand why I love my assessment plan for this unit more than any of the others!
Saturday, December 23, 2017
Thursday, November 23, 2017
Checking in
This has been a challenging year. Between starting later than usual (construction), a missed week for Hurricane Irma, and the loss of one of our 8th graders to cancer, it was a really difficult first month. We never seemed to be able to get in the groove.
Because of the later start, we also lost all of our days off between Labor Day and Thanksgiving. That was rough. Even with two days off for a conference and a personal day after a half marathon, I was really close to feeling burnt out. One of the greatest gifts of the MTBoS community is a mutual understanding of how difficult teaching is, especially at certain times of the year. I really appreciate being able to have someone else who is totally outside my circumstances also say, "Yes, this is a tough week. It will get better." Because then I realize that my annoyance isn't my students, co-workers, or school, it's just a rough time of year. And it will pass.
Teaching four different classes is harder than I expected. Mostly because I have three single sections, and I often leave them thinking about how I'd do something differently next time. Only to realize that "next time" is next year, if that. It's hard to try to grow when I don't get another chance in the immediate future. It's overwhelming to make sure that I have everything ready for each class every day when there are so many moving pieces. There are certainly been some panicked moments when I realize that I didn't actually make the copies I needed for my next class.
Algebra -
This has been the constant in my career. I've always taught algebra - although the look of my class has changed entirely over the years. It's still evolving. This year has been a real struggle. I like to think that my class is more fun than most other math classes they've taken. I don't really lecture, we do tasks like Barbie Bungee, and have a lot of good discussions based around Estimation 180, Which One Doesn't Belong, and the like. However, motivating this group has been a challenge, more so than in the previous few years. I'm growing curious about having a classroom structure without homework. The value seems to be less than ever. I always felt like that practice would be key to students finally mastering skills like evaluating expressions when the value of the variable is negative or solving a system of equations. It sounds depressing, but I've become skeptical that some will ever master these skills (and whether it's really that important).
Geometry -
My experience with these students has been key to my questioning of homework. Because of my disappointment with the online portion of our new book, I stopped assigning homework after unit 1. It was clear in unit 2 that our conversations were not sufficient, and they needed some real practice. So we started with Delta Math in unit 3 but really only in class. I taught half of them last year in algebra so it's enlightening to continue along with them and be able to recognize what they have retained. I know that factoring has been a struggle over the years, so I think I'm going to start doing some regular practice with factoring as a warm up as we move into the second semester. We spent almost our entire congruent triangle unit doing proofs - which, to my surprise, they loved! I don't love geometry, but this particular group has been really fun to move through the concepts with.
Calculus -
I've heard for so long that conceptual based, exploratory learning may work in algebra, but there's no way to do it in higher level math. Calc honors has been my chance to prove that wrong, and it's been better than I ever expected. Because it's honors and not our AP class, my students typically have weaker algebra skills and we explore the calculus topics from a higher level. I can't count the number of times that we've done a Desmos activity, and, when we've turned our attention to notes, they look at me like I'm an idiot when I try to explain the concept to them. Because it's completely unnecessary at that point. They've already figured it all out through Desmos. This is truly the class where I wish I had a second opportunity and more time to develop tasks. Last week we started curve sketching, and I was completely blown away that they could match graphs of f and f' without any direct instruction. It was just something I offered to them as a quick intro after we finished our test. I've been using materials from the teacher who taught the class the past two years (because I have four preps) with a bunch of Desmos tasks and problem sets from Jonathan thrown in. We don't do e, ln, log, inverse trig, etc. But I'm curious about whether that might be something worthwhile to include moving forward.
Social Justice
This is my non-math class, obviously. We use a text from St. Mary's Press, but I'm thinking about going open source in the next semester/year. The book we use the most is just selected readings...and most of them are available online for free anyway. I would just need to curate them. To be honest, it would probably be easier than using the book for the simple fact that online access to this text is a 12 step process. Clicking a link would take two seconds opposed to the five minute sign in. Otherwise I'm pretty happy with the course. It's a nice change of pace from math. And I have about four girls in both social justice and calc (on opposite days) so it's fun to do such different things with the same kids. We have well rounded lives, you know?
The Thanksgiving break has been a good one. Sleeping in, relaxing at Disney, shopping for the upcoming trip to Iceland, and catching up on school work/reflecting on my classes thus far. It was a much needed break as we gear up for the four week sprint between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Thursday, November 16, 2017
What Learning Looks Like
It's been about eight years since I first heard about SBG. Having taught for only a few years at that point, I knew already that something wasn't working in the math classroom. We had recently switched to a PBL-style spiraled workbook for pre-algebra (although I didn't know either of those terms at the time). In my Algebra 2 class, I could tell that students weren't learning the first time and felt helpless in overcoming that.
Enter Dan Meyer and SBG. I was fascinated with this idea of mastery and giving students multiple opportunities. I modeled my tests after the examples he posted and gave my students a chart to document their mastery. Eventually my admins started asking questions. They loved the idea of mastery but had some questions about how much timing was allowed. Shortly there after, I left the school and moved home to Florida.
My first year here was the worst year of teaching that I've had. It was the only year I taught on a straight (non-block) schedule. I always felt rushed, and I knew my students weren't learning well so I curved a lot of grades. Looking back on that year of teaching, I never want my classes to be like that again. Something had to change.
Various things changed over the next four years, and eventually I ended up where I am now. All of our lessons and activities are aligned to specific objectives that we discuss on a regular basis. Tests are broken down by objective and sub-scored so that students have a clear picture of what they do and do not understand. I allow them to go back and reassess over any skills that were not fully mastered on the test. A select few take advantage of the system, but those who do benefit tremendously. There is almost no visible test anxiety among students because test day isn't a one time chance. The opportunity to grow is always available. I don't expect to be perfect at something the first time I try it, how could I ever expect that of students who are learning so much at one time across a variety of disciplines?
-----
Along the way, I read Mindset. Carol Dweck and her anecdotes of growth in diverse fields made me reflect on my own learning experience and how differently it could have gone.
As a new teacher, I was stunned when I saw students standardized test score reports (those that show percentiles) and realized that not all students have bars that go across the entire page. Now, as a math teacher, it should be fairly obvious that if we're showing percentiles, there have to be students in each of the percentiles, but my scores had always been in the top 95% and above so I assumed everyone else's were too.
In high school, I took advanced coursework and did well. It was rare that I had questions so I never learned to ask for help. I could get by with memorization so my understanding of concepts was shallow. Somehow I got 4s on AB and BC calculus without any true learning.
Then I went to college, and my first semester was a disaster. As an engineering major (because people told me that if I was a girl who was good at math, that's what I should be), I enrolled in Chem 1 and Calc 3. I ended up dropping chemistry when it was clear that I would not pass. Never once did I see out help from my professor or TA. Asking questions signaled that I was weak or dumb, and I didn't want to be seen as either of those things. Instead I quietly withdrew from the class and looked into changing my major. Calculus was another story. Without a conceptual understanding of the basic ideas, working in multiple variables was next to impossible. The fact that my professor refused to answer questions only reaffirmed my belief that if I was smart enough to do this, I shouldn't have to ask any. I got a C- and ended up retaking the class the next semester. Never in my life had I had to withdraw or earned a C! What was happening?
To be honest, I'm not sure that I learned much in college. I steered clear of the classes that were difficult for me and was very successful in classes where I could mostly memorize. The same was true for both of my experiences in grad school. Along the way, I suppose I learned some analysis skills, but my professors were largely happy with me being able to regurgitate what they had said in a different scenario or format.
When I read Mindset, particularly the sections about the high achieving students who felt like failures when they suddenly were not perfect, I felt like I was reading about myself. My entire identity had been that I was "smart" and "good at math." I'd never had to work for that. I had no idea how to work for it. I had no idea how to learn. When I suddenly wasn't just good at it anymore, when I encountered a time that I had to try, I lost all hope in myself and my ability. I felt worthless because without that ability, it seemed that I had nothing.
This reflection on my own experiences in learning has completely transformed how I approach learning in the classroom. I often think that if I had a growth mindset as a student, I would have stayed with engineering, I would have worked to my "potential," and I would probably be doing something different with my life. In some ways, I'm very grateful that I didn't have that mindset and that I ended up where I did. I love teaching, and I can't imagine being this happy doing anything else.
Finally being free to ask questions, I have learned so much about math as a teacher. Concepts that never made sense as a student come alive with manipulatives, Desmos activities, and more. Even better, concepts that I am afraid to teach because they were so hard for me become alive when I can do more than simply lecture about them.
There have been a number of times this year when I gave my students an activity about a challenging topic (chain rule, related rates, etc) and then go to "explain it" via lecture, and they look at me like I'm an idiot for thinking it needs to be explained. Because it isn't hard for them, they already understand it because of the activity. Just yesterday it happened with curve sketching. We went over nothing other than the derivative having an output value of zero when the original function would have a horizontal tangent line, and they figured out everything else they needed to sketch the graph.
-----
I don't know where this leaves me. Yesterday I was reading a study about assessment and grades. One of the closing lines was, "We don't give grades in order to sort kids." I think that sums up my biggest distinction from a number of colleagues. Grades aren't to show who is the smartest or to make some feel good about themselves (and others feel bad), they are a tool to inform instruction and encourage all to work towards mastery.
[In thinking about real world evaluative processes, we don't hope to get a better "grade" than our co-workers. We want everyone to be doing their jobs well. We don't compare rubrics of observation to see who was the best. That's flat out silly. Yet our students do it with test grades all the time. One of the biggest mindset changes for me was when I heard a statistic about school being the only time in life that we are given a once chance opportunity. There is no other test, no other opportunity that you have only one chance to "pass." If that were the case, our growth would stagnate - and what kind of world would that be? So why in the world would we set up schools that way?]
Enter Dan Meyer and SBG. I was fascinated with this idea of mastery and giving students multiple opportunities. I modeled my tests after the examples he posted and gave my students a chart to document their mastery. Eventually my admins started asking questions. They loved the idea of mastery but had some questions about how much timing was allowed. Shortly there after, I left the school and moved home to Florida.
My first year here was the worst year of teaching that I've had. It was the only year I taught on a straight (non-block) schedule. I always felt rushed, and I knew my students weren't learning well so I curved a lot of grades. Looking back on that year of teaching, I never want my classes to be like that again. Something had to change.
Various things changed over the next four years, and eventually I ended up where I am now. All of our lessons and activities are aligned to specific objectives that we discuss on a regular basis. Tests are broken down by objective and sub-scored so that students have a clear picture of what they do and do not understand. I allow them to go back and reassess over any skills that were not fully mastered on the test. A select few take advantage of the system, but those who do benefit tremendously. There is almost no visible test anxiety among students because test day isn't a one time chance. The opportunity to grow is always available. I don't expect to be perfect at something the first time I try it, how could I ever expect that of students who are learning so much at one time across a variety of disciplines?
-----
Along the way, I read Mindset. Carol Dweck and her anecdotes of growth in diverse fields made me reflect on my own learning experience and how differently it could have gone.
As a new teacher, I was stunned when I saw students standardized test score reports (those that show percentiles) and realized that not all students have bars that go across the entire page. Now, as a math teacher, it should be fairly obvious that if we're showing percentiles, there have to be students in each of the percentiles, but my scores had always been in the top 95% and above so I assumed everyone else's were too.
In high school, I took advanced coursework and did well. It was rare that I had questions so I never learned to ask for help. I could get by with memorization so my understanding of concepts was shallow. Somehow I got 4s on AB and BC calculus without any true learning.
Then I went to college, and my first semester was a disaster. As an engineering major (because people told me that if I was a girl who was good at math, that's what I should be), I enrolled in Chem 1 and Calc 3. I ended up dropping chemistry when it was clear that I would not pass. Never once did I see out help from my professor or TA. Asking questions signaled that I was weak or dumb, and I didn't want to be seen as either of those things. Instead I quietly withdrew from the class and looked into changing my major. Calculus was another story. Without a conceptual understanding of the basic ideas, working in multiple variables was next to impossible. The fact that my professor refused to answer questions only reaffirmed my belief that if I was smart enough to do this, I shouldn't have to ask any. I got a C- and ended up retaking the class the next semester. Never in my life had I had to withdraw or earned a C! What was happening?
To be honest, I'm not sure that I learned much in college. I steered clear of the classes that were difficult for me and was very successful in classes where I could mostly memorize. The same was true for both of my experiences in grad school. Along the way, I suppose I learned some analysis skills, but my professors were largely happy with me being able to regurgitate what they had said in a different scenario or format.
When I read Mindset, particularly the sections about the high achieving students who felt like failures when they suddenly were not perfect, I felt like I was reading about myself. My entire identity had been that I was "smart" and "good at math." I'd never had to work for that. I had no idea how to work for it. I had no idea how to learn. When I suddenly wasn't just good at it anymore, when I encountered a time that I had to try, I lost all hope in myself and my ability. I felt worthless because without that ability, it seemed that I had nothing.
This reflection on my own experiences in learning has completely transformed how I approach learning in the classroom. I often think that if I had a growth mindset as a student, I would have stayed with engineering, I would have worked to my "potential," and I would probably be doing something different with my life. In some ways, I'm very grateful that I didn't have that mindset and that I ended up where I did. I love teaching, and I can't imagine being this happy doing anything else.
Finally being free to ask questions, I have learned so much about math as a teacher. Concepts that never made sense as a student come alive with manipulatives, Desmos activities, and more. Even better, concepts that I am afraid to teach because they were so hard for me become alive when I can do more than simply lecture about them.
There have been a number of times this year when I gave my students an activity about a challenging topic (chain rule, related rates, etc) and then go to "explain it" via lecture, and they look at me like I'm an idiot for thinking it needs to be explained. Because it isn't hard for them, they already understand it because of the activity. Just yesterday it happened with curve sketching. We went over nothing other than the derivative having an output value of zero when the original function would have a horizontal tangent line, and they figured out everything else they needed to sketch the graph.
-----
I don't know where this leaves me. Yesterday I was reading a study about assessment and grades. One of the closing lines was, "We don't give grades in order to sort kids." I think that sums up my biggest distinction from a number of colleagues. Grades aren't to show who is the smartest or to make some feel good about themselves (and others feel bad), they are a tool to inform instruction and encourage all to work towards mastery.
[In thinking about real world evaluative processes, we don't hope to get a better "grade" than our co-workers. We want everyone to be doing their jobs well. We don't compare rubrics of observation to see who was the best. That's flat out silly. Yet our students do it with test grades all the time. One of the biggest mindset changes for me was when I heard a statistic about school being the only time in life that we are given a once chance opportunity. There is no other test, no other opportunity that you have only one chance to "pass." If that were the case, our growth would stagnate - and what kind of world would that be? So why in the world would we set up schools that way?]
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Checking in on #1TMCThing
I saw a tweet the other day that reminded me that the time has come.
To be honest, I had to go back to my TMC post to remember what my thing even was. I knew that there were two. It turns out that I've sort of been doing both!
The first was more engagement with the MTBoS community as a whole. In general, I have blogged more this year than ever before. I have been more active on Twitter than simply liking or retweeting. And, I spent time at the MTBoS booth at NCTM regional in Orlando (which was actually one of the highlights of the conference for me).
The second was about Desmos Activity Builder. Specifically, I wanted to create my own activities. I have yet to create an entire activity because I'm completely overwhelmed by having four preps. We've done a ton of Desmos activities this year, and I'm feeling more comfortable using the dashboard and teacher pacing.
Last week I assigned my calculus students a project where they would be using tangent lines to "pop the pigs" in Angry Birds. It's basically the same activity that my colleague assigned a year ago. As my students started working though, I thought about how great it would be via Desmos. That made me open Activity Builder and start messing around. I can't use it this year, but it might be helpful in the future - plus it's a good place for practice.
Then yesterday when I started thinking about my 1TMCThing. And I realized that a lot of the things I wanted to do in my activity are part of computation layer. I received access during the Desmos day at TMC this summer but hadn't had a chance to really do anything with it. I knew during that time that I didn't really know what any of it meant, and I hadn't had time to really investigate. Now I really don't have time to be learning computation layer, but I got so into it that I ended up spending hours just trying to figure out how it all works. I was fascinated. I made zero progress with my activity, but I feel like I learned a lot just about building and structuring activities.
So I'm halfway there.
To be honest, I had to go back to my TMC post to remember what my thing even was. I knew that there were two. It turns out that I've sort of been doing both!
The first was more engagement with the MTBoS community as a whole. In general, I have blogged more this year than ever before. I have been more active on Twitter than simply liking or retweeting. And, I spent time at the MTBoS booth at NCTM regional in Orlando (which was actually one of the highlights of the conference for me).
The second was about Desmos Activity Builder. Specifically, I wanted to create my own activities. I have yet to create an entire activity because I'm completely overwhelmed by having four preps. We've done a ton of Desmos activities this year, and I'm feeling more comfortable using the dashboard and teacher pacing.
Last week I assigned my calculus students a project where they would be using tangent lines to "pop the pigs" in Angry Birds. It's basically the same activity that my colleague assigned a year ago. As my students started working though, I thought about how great it would be via Desmos. That made me open Activity Builder and start messing around. I can't use it this year, but it might be helpful in the future - plus it's a good place for practice.
Then yesterday when I started thinking about my 1TMCThing. And I realized that a lot of the things I wanted to do in my activity are part of computation layer. I received access during the Desmos day at TMC this summer but hadn't had a chance to really do anything with it. I knew during that time that I didn't really know what any of it meant, and I hadn't had time to really investigate. Now I really don't have time to be learning computation layer, but I got so into it that I ended up spending hours just trying to figure out how it all works. I was fascinated. I made zero progress with my activity, but I feel like I learned a lot just about building and structuring activities.
So I'm halfway there.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Conferences and SBG
I've been dabbling in SBG since I first heard about it at least seven years ago. I remember having a conversation with my admin about it in New Orleans and how my AP at the time didn't think it was fair for some students to have to keep working on problems that other students didn't have to (because they had mastered it).
Anyway, I've never been in a school that officially does SBG, so I've been trying to incorporate it "unofficially" for the past few years. Three years ago, I changed my entire curriculum design to focus around out 30+ standards in Algebra 1. That same year, I stopped putting an overall grade on tests, subscoring by standard instead (although I put the overall grade in my online grade book). I've had varying degrees of success. Some students really get it and say things like, "Look, I knew how to do everything except *specific section name.* I just need to work on that." Others still only care about their overall grade and struggle each test to add up the points earned out of total points.
Last week we had parent conferences on Thursday and Friday. For the past few years, I've had students fill out a self-assessment. While I've had this practice for a while at the end of each semester, doing it for parent conferences hadn't really crossed my mind. It's been amazing because it saves me almost every difficult conversation. My students have been very honest about themselves, their work ethic, and where they are in the class. I begin my conferences by having the parents review the self-assessment, and we go from there. (One day I would like to have student-led conferences, but this is as close as I can get for right now.)
This year I added a space at the bottom where I listed the standards we have covered so far in Algebra 1 and next to each, I wrote "mastered," "approaching," or "not yet." In the corner, I did write an overall grade because I knew some parents would ask. We spent most of our conference then talking about the standards, which ones really came from middle school and are a concern if not mastered by now, which are the most challenging and not really a surprise to be an "approaching." Most importantly, we barely needed to have a separate conversation about what each student needed to work on...it was embedded in everything else we had discussed. And they have opportunities! I shared with each parent how the reassessment process works and how their child can continue to work towards mastery of each standard.
I left each conference feeling hopeful that each student would continue to grow, and I like to think that the parents left with a clarity about how to help and empowered to help their students achieve even more. It was a really positive experience which is not typically how I've felt about conferences in the past. We didn't just talk about how their student is "great" - we had data to show what even my highest achieving students can keep working on. We also didn't talk about "concerns" - again, there was data to show exactly how to improve. As exhausting as it can be to meet with 30 parents in a day, I left wishing we had more days like this.
Anyway, I've never been in a school that officially does SBG, so I've been trying to incorporate it "unofficially" for the past few years. Three years ago, I changed my entire curriculum design to focus around out 30+ standards in Algebra 1. That same year, I stopped putting an overall grade on tests, subscoring by standard instead (although I put the overall grade in my online grade book). I've had varying degrees of success. Some students really get it and say things like, "Look, I knew how to do everything except *specific section name.* I just need to work on that." Others still only care about their overall grade and struggle each test to add up the points earned out of total points.
Last week we had parent conferences on Thursday and Friday. For the past few years, I've had students fill out a self-assessment. While I've had this practice for a while at the end of each semester, doing it for parent conferences hadn't really crossed my mind. It's been amazing because it saves me almost every difficult conversation. My students have been very honest about themselves, their work ethic, and where they are in the class. I begin my conferences by having the parents review the self-assessment, and we go from there. (One day I would like to have student-led conferences, but this is as close as I can get for right now.)
This year I added a space at the bottom where I listed the standards we have covered so far in Algebra 1 and next to each, I wrote "mastered," "approaching," or "not yet." In the corner, I did write an overall grade because I knew some parents would ask. We spent most of our conference then talking about the standards, which ones really came from middle school and are a concern if not mastered by now, which are the most challenging and not really a surprise to be an "approaching." Most importantly, we barely needed to have a separate conversation about what each student needed to work on...it was embedded in everything else we had discussed. And they have opportunities! I shared with each parent how the reassessment process works and how their child can continue to work towards mastery of each standard.
I left each conference feeling hopeful that each student would continue to grow, and I like to think that the parents left with a clarity about how to help and empowered to help their students achieve even more. It was a really positive experience which is not typically how I've felt about conferences in the past. We didn't just talk about how their student is "great" - we had data to show what even my highest achieving students can keep working on. We also didn't talk about "concerns" - again, there was data to show exactly how to improve. As exhausting as it can be to meet with 30 parents in a day, I left wishing we had more days like this.
Friday, September 8, 2017
Irma.
This has been the weirdest week ever.
Monday was Labor Day, so despite the fact that I spent most of Sunday trying to sleep off some sickness, I made the trip to Orlando with some friends to go to the Food and Wine Festival at Epcot. It was a different group than my usual "Disney friends" which was kind of fun. The new Mission Space is amazing! It was my first ride since the refurb, and I love it now more than ever. We finished the evening with an outstanding meal at Monsieur Paul's. Like within the Top 5 meals of my life. Highly recommended.
Tuesday I woke up after not enough sleep and prepared for the longest day ever. I decided to work out after school, then shower quickly and come back for Back to School Night so I went to school looking a little rough. Of course, I had forgotten that it was Picture Day. I'll get mine done on Make Up Day. There was no way we were documenting this situation. My Algebra classes prepared for their upcoming test, and in Social Justice we had a great conversation about love vs. sin. I worked individually with a few students after school then took off for the gym. I was changed, worked out, drove home, showered, and got ready for BTS Night in just over an hour.
In the brief time that I was home, I looked around and realized that it's all just stuff. The idea that my house would be gone by next Tuesday was humbling and terrifying, but there wasn't much that I would want to take in the event of an evacuation.
When I walked in the board room for dinner, my colleagues all turned around and embarrassed me by cheering. Maybe I should dress up more often? Overall the night seemed to go as planned, but with fewer parents than usual it seemed. New of Hurricane Irma churning in the Atlantic had sent a frenzy through the city earlier that afternoon. Last year I changed how I approach BTS Night by incorporating a quick low floor, high ceiling task for parents to experience then a quick who I am/what the class is. Students don't want to be bored with eight syllabus talks, and I figure neither do parents. A colleague whose daughter is in one of my classes said to me as I walked out, "You're a rockstar in there." I was really pleased that my love for my students and content was evident. This night used to be a source of stress for me in "dealing" with parents. Now I really enjoy it as an opportunity to share with them as two parts of the same team.
Wednesday morning began with an emergency faculty meeting about the hurricane situation. We talked about preparing materials to be able to continue delivering content in the event of school devastation. We are so lucky to have access to so much technology that makes this endeavor possible in the face of the unknown. I already have most of my courses available online so while a virtual platform would lack the atmosphere and collaboration of a classroom, the basics could still take place. But at this point, the storm's track showed her riding up the east coast of the state. We were pretty much in the clear other than some rain and 40 mph winds.
The county was supposed to announce closures at 3pm, and our announcement would surely follow. Well, the downside of every student having a MacBook and an iPad is that they know all the news before you. At noon there was cheering. Hillsborough Country had called off school for Thursday and Friday. The rest of the day was a blur of deciding what to bring home (knowing that there was the potential that I wouldn't be back for over a month), talking about the importance of safety with students without creating any more anxiety. After the school day ended, we had a STEM meeting as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. But as I walked out of the building that day, the awareness that something major would happen before I returned nagged me.
I looked at Thursday as an opportunity to get some school work done that I hadn't gotten to last weekend. I put in grades, looked at lesson plans for the upcoming unit in each class, and emailed some students about missing assignments. By afternoon, these bonus days to catch up on work suddenly became essential for hurricane prep. The NHC model suddenly began reflecting more of the Euro model, and Irma's track had shifted west. Not good for Tampa. I had planned to spend the storm at a friend's house simply so I wouldn't have to be alone. With the new track, I walked my house in earnest determining what I couldn't bear to leave behind.
The list looks like this:
-my grandmother's wedding and engagement rings
-the mirror and crucifix that hung in my grandparents' house
-the globe from my grandparents' dining room
-the diamond earrings that I received for my high school graduation
-a set of sterling silverware
-a Phillies hat and official ball from the 2008 World Series
-a first class relic of Blessed Marie Rose Durocher and a third class relic of St. Maria Goretti
-my framed pilgrim passport and compostela from the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
-my journals from middle school through present day
Additionally, I'm bringing:
-box of insurance, medical, mortgage, etc paperwork
-a suitcase of random clothes so that I don't end up naked if I lose everything
-food, water, and supplies
-MacBook, iPad, iPhone, apple watch, textbooks, and school planners
Friday began with an even worse storm track for those of us on the west coast. Then the mayor announced mandatory zone A evacuations, and I began looking for a place to ride out the storm. Earlier in the week I'd had four friends offer their places to evacuees. By this point, one was in zone A and out herself, another decided to go to her parents', and a third was contemplating an evacuation himself. So I reached out to the only one that was left. He was very apologetic in telling me that his parents don't want anyone else in the house in case they have to evacuate. With officially none of my original options left, I took solace in the kindness of a work friend.
Tomorrow we will travel about 20 minutes east to her parents' old (empty/for sale) house. Hopefully when I return to my house on Monday/Tuesday, it will still be here and intact. I've taken everything off my walls and shelves. I'm piling as much as I can in my closets and bathrooms (the only interior rooms I have) and closing all the doors. Our winds are supposed to be in the 90s. When compared to the devastation of 185mph, 90 seems really good but it's still not. My building is 30 years old, the roof was inspected three weeks ago. I have no plywood or hurricane shutters for my (three) windows. I'm not far from Tampa Bay but likely far enough (and on the second floor) to avoid storm surge. When I leave tomorrow, I don't know what I'll be coming back to - and that is the most terrifying thought. Yes, it's just stuff. But the thought of having nothing is incredibly humbling right now.
...and to think, four days ago I was at Epcot without a care in the world.
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Everything Organization
This blog post is part of the #MTBoS Sunday Funday Weekly Blogging Challenge.
Organization is usually something I think of as a strength for myself. I like structure, consistency, and knowing what to expect so I try to provide those things in my classroom as well. This year I'm feeling a tad flustered. We've been doing amazing things at school as we transition our historic buildings into the 21st century, but amidst the upgrades, we also have a lot of upheaval and almost constant change.
For the first time in five years, I have my own room! We've all been sharing rooms as we renovate spaces, but it's so nice to have a space to decorate and use to store my supplies. It also means that I can be in the room before the students which helps to have something up on the board and be able to greet them at the door. Organizationally, my first big area would be routine. I am big on students being able to anticipate what comes next and ultimately let class flow without my having to do anything (other than establish the routine initially).
I teach three algebra classes. In them, our routine is as follows:
- Enter the room, take out materials you need, put the rest of your stuff out of the way
- Get started on the warm up activity (on the board)
- Once the bell rings, attendance and prayer (we are a Catholic school)
- Go over the warm up activity together
- Announcements of important class info/updates
- Whole group/Small group collaborative exploration activity
- Direct instruction of new objective in small groups
- Practice time (individual/partner/small group)
The timing varies within the routine, but it always flows in the same order.
I'm also single classes of geometry and calculus. It's been a few years since I've done geometry, but I'm thinking that a similar routine will work. It's my first year teaching calculus. Since it's an honors level rather than AP class, I have the flexibility to devote as much time as necessary to really delve into big concepts and ensure student understanding. I have planned a lot of group work and practice sets. I have worked hard to establish the idea of math as a collaborative activity that takes multiple iterations to gain proficiency in my algebra classes. Introducing that idea at a higher content level will be a fun challenge.
Planning. Having four preps (I also teach a theology class) makes organization essential. I plan in a hierarchical fashion. I start with a paper calendar that I label with class meeting dates (we have an AB block schedule). There I block off dates broadly by unit and specifically by objective. Then I start to plan units within those dates. For Algebra I have a huge Google Doc spreadsheet where I have each objective matched to (at least) one collaborative activity, the MathSpace (online practice) section title, Khan Academy section titles (for students wanting extra practice), names of my own mini quiz documents, and more. I then pull the collaborative task that matches the objective for the day on my paper calendar and write both the objective and the task in my Plum Paper Planner under algebra that day. The paper calendar part remains the same for geometry and calculus, but instead of the spreadsheet, I have a Google Doc for each unit. In it, I list out the days (as Day 1, Day 2, etc) so that I can use it from year to year rather than getting into specific dates. On each day, I put the objective, the name of the task, any quizzes, etc that will be taking place. Then in my PPP, I just write "Day 1." I almost always have the Google Doc for each unit of geometry and calculus open in my Safari tabs.
Keeping myself sane. I have folders inside of folders inside of folders. My Google Drive is organized by color with the folder for each prep (plus some of other school responsibilities). I have almost the same folders created in Dropbox as well. Drive holds all of my Google Docs, Dropbox holds all of my non-Google files. Each prep is subdivided into folders by unit, for general information, and so forth. Each unit folder is broken down into more folders for notes pages, assessments, etc. It's incredibly Type-A, but I always know where to find things in a flash!
I actually have two PPPs. One for my school like that I use for lesson planning, test dates, meeting dates, and special school events. Then a personal one. The only overlap is school events outside of the normal 7:30-3:30 hours and days off.
My personal planner has my meal plan and work out plan for the week in addition to the regular calendar items. I plan my meals monthly using a Google spreadsheet. I have it divided by week. The top box is where I write the meal name (or event I'll be at so I know not to plan a meal). The box beneath is has a link to the recipe from my Pinterest board if applicable. I almost always crockpot something on Monday because I'm usually at the gym until 5:45 and starving when I get home. I grocery shop for the week on either Saturday or Sunday morning. I make all of my lunches on Sunday using my Prepd Pack app and lunch box. Then I store the containers in an IKEA plastic box in my refrigerator. During the week, all I have to do is put the empty containers in the dishwasher in the afternoon and grab new containers in the morning.
I also plan my outfits on the weekend. I put everything for the day (including jewelry, excluding shoes) on the same hanger and hang a tag with the day of the week on it at the front of my closet. I live in Florida where we only have one season, summer, so it's rare that the weather doesn't agree with what I've selected. I've been trying to pack gym bags for each day of the week that I go straight from school and putting them into my car on Monday morning. No excuses for not being prepared.
These weekly routines are so engrained in my behavior at this point that they make for a calm start to each week. It can be very challenging to get on track for the week when I'm out of town for the entire weekend. I try to grocery shop on Thursday night and plan my outfits before leaving as well so that I don't end up scrambling.
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Slope. (AKA If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.)
I'm teaching a two week, three hour a day, summer enrichment for students who will be in Algebra with me this year. After we did a lot of "fun math" last week (WODB, Estimation 180, Would You Rather?, etc), I asked them what they'd like to work on this week. Slope was a nearly unanimous answer.
We began yesterday with Which is Steepest? They could easily discern which was the steepest but struggled to explain how they knew. Eventually we had these rectangles drawn around the line segments (normally I'd use a slope triangle, but this was what they came up).
We began yesterday with Which is Steepest? They could easily discern which was the steepest but struggled to explain how they knew. Eventually we had these rectangles drawn around the line segments (normally I'd use a slope triangle, but this was what they came up).
Our slopes were 6 and 4 (represented as 6/1 and 8/2, respectively). We tried all sorts of things like making both denominators (although they weren't written as fractions at the time) 2 and comparing the other number. Eventually, one of my girls did this fascinating math in the photo. She said she'd find the LCM of 6 and 8 (24). Then she'd figure out the numerator for the equivalent fractions. Whichever was smaller had to be steeper since it was going up the same amount in a narrower space. WHAT? I was blown away by this incredible thought process. I absolutely would never have thought about doing something like that.
Despite all of this rich discussion, there was almost a gasp of shock when I told them that steepness is basically slope. They had no idea that we'd been talking about slope the entire time. We had clearly made progress in their understanding but had a long way to go.
Today we returned to Desmos doing both Put the Point on the Line and Investigating Rates of Change. They are still struggling with interpreting steepness in a quantitative fashion. We've talked about it as a relationship between the horizontal and vertical changes at length, but something still doesn't seem to be clicking. When I ask them to reflect on how their understanding has changed, they respond positively. They don't hate slope anymore (which is a huge win in and off itself), but they shared that they don't totally get it yet.
We've established that:
-slope is independent of length (a longer line is not necessarily steeper)
-it's easier to figure out steepness if you have the line on a grid rather than a blank background
-we need to count the vertical and horizontal distances
I'm not sure where to go with them next. It's clear that we need to spend another day (maybe two) on this topic, but I can't think of anything we could do that would be different than what we've already done. I have a staircases activity that I've used in class before that I'm thinking about starting with tomorrow, but I'm sort of at a loss for how else to approach slope with them.
I've really enjoyed teaching this summer enrichment because we have the time to delve into rich tasks, but it's also become apparent quickly where students have misconceptions (and we have time to address those). I'll admit that I am somehow shocked that we've done all of these things and they still have questions. I wouldn't even have done this much in a regular classroom structure. I love how Desmos allows students to make clear what they do and don't understand so much more than a practice problem ever could.
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Goals
The theme for this week is goals, and with it being back-to-school time, that seems quite prudent. I'm going to share my goals for the next year in three ways: goals for my classroom, goals for myself professionally, and goals for myself personally.
My #1TMCThing for my classroom is to use Desmos Activity Builder in a way that is more tailored to my students' experiences. I'm certainly going to play more with the teacher pacing and pause features, but I'd also like to be able to use AB specifically for my students by creating my own. My other goal sounds secondary, but is probably one of the most important things anyone could ever try to do. I want to use the incentive from TMC to remind my students (and myself!) that they are "whatever" enough. Positivity, encouragement, celebrating successes -- whatever it takes to transform a student's perception of herself as not enough.
Professionally, I am really looking forward to engaging more with the MTBOS. I am committing to this Sunday Funday blogging challenges as a way to be more reflective about my own teaching. It is so difficult for me to make the time to do quality reflection (it seems that I'm constantly assessing ideas, strategies, and materials), this challenge may serve as the catalyst for consistent time-making. Hopefully at some point this year, I'll be ready to share my own created materials via this platform as well. Part of that stress goes back to my own trouble with being "whatever" enough. I am teaching calculus this year, a course that is new to me. I'm excited to teach a higher level content class but also eager to see how my instructional methods from Algebra transfer to an upper level course.
On a personal level, one of my goals is to give myself time this year. I'm teaching an extra class which brings with it an extra prep, and that's already causing me some stress. I'm not 100% ready to commit, but I think this may be the year that I train for a marathon. Time is going to be at a premium (it already is - and school doesn't start for two weeks!), but I think running may be a good stress buster for me. I'm also planning to go back to Connecticut next summer and may be asked to take on more of a leadership role where it would be beneficial if I was conversationally fluent in Spanish. I don't know if that's really possible in a year, but I'm committing to regular practice online and once I feel comfortable, trying to hang out with some of my bilingual friends while they are speaking only Spanish. (I'd also like to get my pilot's license, but that seems like a stretch.) I have big goals this year, but I've recently realized that life is only worth living if you take risks. Failure is part of the process, and that's a value I'd like to be able to share with my students.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
TMC 17 Recap
Last year when I traveled to Minneapolis for my first TMC, I did so without knowing anyone. I met people through speed-dating and the newcomer's dinner but didn't feel like I forged any lasting relationships. I made a deliberate attempt to overcome my introverted nature this year by having a roommate, reaching out to people whose flights arrived at the same time as mine, and being a mentor for a first time attendee. Those three things sound fairly simple, but they are huge steps for me.
This year I was able to attend the pre-conference on Wednesday before TMC began. Seeing the new Geometry tools made me really excited to be teaching geometry again this year. I went to the "Dive into Desmos" group first thinking that I was in the intermediate/advanced category. As it turns out, I was easily able to accomplish the beginner tasks on the scavenger hunt but got stuck early on in the intermediate. I still have so much to learn! Then I went to Michael Fenton's session where we worked through the Point Collector task as students. I hadn't used that particular activity with students before, but I really enjoyed being able to see someone else model how to use a Desmos activity. I've never used teacher pacing before, but it's value was immediately obvious. As intimidating as it can be to try something new like this in class without any training, as I sat in the classroom, I was thankful to have already had experience using Desmos with a class to be able to reflect on as I watched Michael model the role of the teacher. After lunch, I went to the Activity Builder creation session. I've used a ton of different Desmos activities in my classes (my girls LOVE Desmos and ask for it!), but I have never created my own. I know where to start and the basics of the set up, but I've never followed through on it.
My morning session from TMC was the Classroom Chef with Matt Vaudrey and John Stevens. I've read their book and done almost all of the activities that we did during the sessions, but, like with Michael the day before, it was really helpful to see someone else (and in Matt's case, the person who created the activity) model the role of the teacher in a classroom. I didn't necessarily leave with new ideas, but instead with better questioning techniques and refined details about how to facilitate student learning.
I was incredibly intimidated to present at TMC. I've presented at several conferences over the past few years, and, after the first time, I haven't been nervous. David Butler made a comment at the closing session on Sunday that "everyone is worthy to present" at TMC, and while I love that sentiment, this group of rockstar teachers often leaves me feeling inferior. I actually texted a colleague those exact words just minutes before my session began.
The other afternoon sessions I attended taught me about the Active Calculus open source e-text (which looks like an amazing resource for my calc honors class), watching Chris Shore use the clothesline to make sense of numbers (another moment of watching an activity I've done before done by "the master"), and Jonathan's calculus for middle school teachers session. Although I'm familiar with calculus and teaching it for the first time this year, it was fascinating to see the concepts explained at a level that middle schoolers would be able to understand. As we try to expose more students to calculus in future years, the simplicity and elegance of conceptual calculus will certainly become more useful.
Carl Oliver's keynote on Saturday made me reflect on my own experience of the MTBOS and what my involvement has looked like. I often feel like I'm not whatever enough in this community, but I think from the feedback of my session and conversations throughout TMC, I've started to feel as though I do have useful ideas to contribute. Carl encouraged us to #PushSend. There are countless times that I have started an email, a tweet, or a blog post only to end up deleting the entire thing. Carl's charge to #PushSend will remain with me in those moments of feeling inferior and encourage me to reach out.
I left this year feeling like I can really become part of this community if I'm willing to put myself out there a bit more via both this blog and Twitter. I've decided that my #1TMCThing will come in two parts. The part for me involves engagement with the MTBOS. Posting more, responding more, pushing send. The part for me students will be Desmos Activity Builder. I'd like to create at least one of my own. After watching how Matt/John, Carl, and others integrated their own activities into tasks that had previously been done without Desmos, I realized the power of being able to create ABs tailored to my class and my students.
This year I was able to attend the pre-conference on Wednesday before TMC began. Seeing the new Geometry tools made me really excited to be teaching geometry again this year. I went to the "Dive into Desmos" group first thinking that I was in the intermediate/advanced category. As it turns out, I was easily able to accomplish the beginner tasks on the scavenger hunt but got stuck early on in the intermediate. I still have so much to learn! Then I went to Michael Fenton's session where we worked through the Point Collector task as students. I hadn't used that particular activity with students before, but I really enjoyed being able to see someone else model how to use a Desmos activity. I've never used teacher pacing before, but it's value was immediately obvious. As intimidating as it can be to try something new like this in class without any training, as I sat in the classroom, I was thankful to have already had experience using Desmos with a class to be able to reflect on as I watched Michael model the role of the teacher. After lunch, I went to the Activity Builder creation session. I've used a ton of different Desmos activities in my classes (my girls LOVE Desmos and ask for it!), but I have never created my own. I know where to start and the basics of the set up, but I've never followed through on it.
My morning session from TMC was the Classroom Chef with Matt Vaudrey and John Stevens. I've read their book and done almost all of the activities that we did during the sessions, but, like with Michael the day before, it was really helpful to see someone else (and in Matt's case, the person who created the activity) model the role of the teacher in a classroom. I didn't necessarily leave with new ideas, but instead with better questioning techniques and refined details about how to facilitate student learning.
I was incredibly intimidated to present at TMC. I've presented at several conferences over the past few years, and, after the first time, I haven't been nervous. David Butler made a comment at the closing session on Sunday that "everyone is worthy to present" at TMC, and while I love that sentiment, this group of rockstar teachers often leaves me feeling inferior. I actually texted a colleague those exact words just minutes before my session began.
The other afternoon sessions I attended taught me about the Active Calculus open source e-text (which looks like an amazing resource for my calc honors class), watching Chris Shore use the clothesline to make sense of numbers (another moment of watching an activity I've done before done by "the master"), and Jonathan's calculus for middle school teachers session. Although I'm familiar with calculus and teaching it for the first time this year, it was fascinating to see the concepts explained at a level that middle schoolers would be able to understand. As we try to expose more students to calculus in future years, the simplicity and elegance of conceptual calculus will certainly become more useful.
Carl Oliver's keynote on Saturday made me reflect on my own experience of the MTBOS and what my involvement has looked like. I often feel like I'm not whatever enough in this community, but I think from the feedback of my session and conversations throughout TMC, I've started to feel as though I do have useful ideas to contribute. Carl encouraged us to #PushSend. There are countless times that I have started an email, a tweet, or a blog post only to end up deleting the entire thing. Carl's charge to #PushSend will remain with me in those moments of feeling inferior and encourage me to reach out.
I left this year feeling like I can really become part of this community if I'm willing to put myself out there a bit more via both this blog and Twitter. I've decided that my #1TMCThing will come in two parts. The part for me involves engagement with the MTBOS. Posting more, responding more, pushing send. The part for me students will be Desmos Activity Builder. I'd like to create at least one of my own. After watching how Matt/John, Carl, and others integrated their own activities into tasks that had previously been done without Desmos, I realized the power of being able to create ABs tailored to my class and my students.
Saturday, June 3, 2017
Two years later
The school year has ended. Wow, did that second semester go by quickly or what? A few weeks ago, I was in a Twitter conversation about flexible seating, and I realized that I don't actually have anything on here about physical classroom set up. Ironically, mine will be changing for next year, but I think it's a good opportunity for reflection as I move into a new space.
For the the past two years, I have been teaching in our Innovation Lab. Designed as a flexible and collaborative space, the iLab has space for 2-3 classes at the same time and boasts five projector stations with Apple TVs to connect as well as multiple writable walls and table tops. My Algebra 1 class was created to be taught in this environment. Direct instruction is minimized and occurs primarily in small group contexts. Group tasks and individual (but often collaborative) practice are the most common activities.
The first of our iLabs (now used by the middle school) was oriented a bit differently. The high school version has a "small side" and the "campfire side." My class has predominantly met on the small side because it has two whiteboard tables with projectors, one high top semi-writable table with a projector, and the conference room with a projector. We used both the horizontal and vertical writable surfaces at least half of class each day. The chairs are all on wheels and have varying heights to match the tables while the writable tables are also on wheels and moved into different configurations on a regular basis. The campfire side features a long high-top "banana" table plus multiple smaller circular tables, comfy chairs, and a campfire-life sofa in front of a writable desk surface -- all facing final projector station. The sides have varying degrees of flexibility. If I could make any change I wanted, my first would be to make all tabletops writable. That is the students' greatest need at this point.
With larger classes this year, we had to make use of the conference room as a fourth group. Last year I was able to have only three groups and leave the conference room solely for direct instruction. It's harder to do a large group share out when one of the groups is awkwardly standing or sitting because they have to leave their work space. The wall in between (even with a window) impedes their collaboration with other groups while working. The conference room is ideal for small group instruction or as a quiet work space away from the hubbub of the larger room.
Next year I will be teaching in what was a prototype for this space, based on the TEAL labs at MIT. It is different in that it appears sterile and somewhat lifeless with plain white walls. However, sharing it with only my department means that we can decorate it, something which was impossible in the iLab. I am excited because it is a truly flexible space. Every surface is writable and movable. I love the idea of being able to move everything. It will be nice to have groups that all have the same resources as well as an easy way to do a gallery-type experience. I'm nervous about losing the conference room space as a quiet space and a small group space. I'll have to "rope off" part of the room for that purpose and for testing.
Finally, this might sound strange, but I'm sort of sad to be alone in my classroom again. For these two years in the iLab, there has always been another class taking place on the other side of the room. I learned so much from watching those other teachers and asking for their insights from observing my classes as well. It will be an adjustment not to have them. Their presence helped me to get past any nerves of someone else "being in my room" in a very organic way. When this idea was first proposed, I thought there was no way that I could ever teach in an environment like the iLab. Now, I can't imagine teaching anywhere else. I welcome anyone into my classroom at any time without hesitation. Others have seen my great days and my worst days, and we've all survived. You will never be the perfect teacher. Just keep getting better.
For the the past two years, I have been teaching in our Innovation Lab. Designed as a flexible and collaborative space, the iLab has space for 2-3 classes at the same time and boasts five projector stations with Apple TVs to connect as well as multiple writable walls and table tops. My Algebra 1 class was created to be taught in this environment. Direct instruction is minimized and occurs primarily in small group contexts. Group tasks and individual (but often collaborative) practice are the most common activities.
The first of our iLabs (now used by the middle school) was oriented a bit differently. The high school version has a "small side" and the "campfire side." My class has predominantly met on the small side because it has two whiteboard tables with projectors, one high top semi-writable table with a projector, and the conference room with a projector. We used both the horizontal and vertical writable surfaces at least half of class each day. The chairs are all on wheels and have varying heights to match the tables while the writable tables are also on wheels and moved into different configurations on a regular basis. The campfire side features a long high-top "banana" table plus multiple smaller circular tables, comfy chairs, and a campfire-life sofa in front of a writable desk surface -- all facing final projector station. The sides have varying degrees of flexibility. If I could make any change I wanted, my first would be to make all tabletops writable. That is the students' greatest need at this point.
With larger classes this year, we had to make use of the conference room as a fourth group. Last year I was able to have only three groups and leave the conference room solely for direct instruction. It's harder to do a large group share out when one of the groups is awkwardly standing or sitting because they have to leave their work space. The wall in between (even with a window) impedes their collaboration with other groups while working. The conference room is ideal for small group instruction or as a quiet work space away from the hubbub of the larger room.
Next year I will be teaching in what was a prototype for this space, based on the TEAL labs at MIT. It is different in that it appears sterile and somewhat lifeless with plain white walls. However, sharing it with only my department means that we can decorate it, something which was impossible in the iLab. I am excited because it is a truly flexible space. Every surface is writable and movable. I love the idea of being able to move everything. It will be nice to have groups that all have the same resources as well as an easy way to do a gallery-type experience. I'm nervous about losing the conference room space as a quiet space and a small group space. I'll have to "rope off" part of the room for that purpose and for testing.
Finally, this might sound strange, but I'm sort of sad to be alone in my classroom again. For these two years in the iLab, there has always been another class taking place on the other side of the room. I learned so much from watching those other teachers and asking for their insights from observing my classes as well. It will be an adjustment not to have them. Their presence helped me to get past any nerves of someone else "being in my room" in a very organic way. When this idea was first proposed, I thought there was no way that I could ever teach in an environment like the iLab. Now, I can't imagine teaching anywhere else. I welcome anyone into my classroom at any time without hesitation. Others have seen my great days and my worst days, and we've all survived. You will never be the perfect teacher. Just keep getting better.
Monday, March 20, 2017
Mission Trip Week Plus
Last week I led a trip of 16 students and 4 adults (myself included) on a mission trip to Jonestown, Mississippi where we worked with Sr. Kay Burton, SNJM. It was my fifth year on the trip and probably my best.
When I first interviewed at AHN and the principal at the time explained Mini Course Week and the mission trip program to me, I immediately fell in love. Let me be clear that I don't exactly enjoy sharing one bathroom with 20 people or sleeping in a twin bed in the same room as another teacher or eating the last of whatever has been prepared for each meal, but I do love going on this trip because it is such an incredible experience for our students.
Our students worked so hard throughout the entire week, and I was constantly amazed at what they were able to do. On Monday we took up an entire floor (two floors of linoleum in some places); we're talking six hours of chipping away at a floor - and they rocked it. On Tuesday and Wednesday, it was all painting all the time. Thursday and Friday were spent laying the new floor. When I left for Lowe's on Thursday, our IT guy was laying the floor. By the time I returned four hours later, the girls were doing it all! Piecing the floor boards together, using the circular saw to cut boards, and nailing the quarter round into place using the t-nailer. They even wanted to come back after dinner to finish, but we convinced them to wait until Friday. That morning it took nearly two hours to place the final four boards around two toilets. They were incredibly proud of themselves for being able to use their math skills to figure out how to cut down the boards. It was so cool and an amazing example of persistence.
Not a single complaint in the entire week. We've been home for 2+ days, and I'm really excited to go back to school tomorrow. After being together 24/7, I miss them!
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Today, in a nutshell...
6am - alarm goes off
6:08 - snooze alarm goes off
6:16 - turn off snooze
6:25 - actually get out of bed, get dressed, do make up, brush teeth, etc
6:40 - make coffee and english muffin
6:48 - get in the car
6:54 - arrive at Christ the King for 7am mass (realize I can get there in 6 minutes...)
7am - mass begins
7:26 - scoot out after the final blessing since I'm supposed to be at work by 7:30
7:32 - park my car at school
7:38 - my entire department is in the office. we've been gone a week, and i missed them!
7:58 - run over to the media center for our meeting at 8
8am - play a sequencing game that involves communication. we aren't good at it.
8:20 - instructional tech specialist shares new info with us
8:50 - duck out with another teacher
8:55 - run to the bathroom with other teacher and realize our presentations complement each other
8:57 - where is our presentation? no one is in the room.
9am - guests arrive
9:02 - other teacher presents. i enjoy listening to her. it was fun when we shared a classroom last year
9:22 - it's my turn. pretty sure i forgot half of what i planned to say, but it was fine
9:44 - run back upstairs
9:58 - i need to be back in the media center, but i just got here!
10:04 - stop in campus ministry to share with sister about the trip
10:35 - finally leave.
10:37 - i'm really late now, but that's ok. other teachers are sharing about tech they use.
11:32 - it's time for lunch! free healthy lunch from the wellness committee
11:45 - i have to go meet one of our guests
11:49 - that was fast; back to my lunch
12:15 - i need a coke. not bringing my water cup today was a big mistake.
12:20 - the machine in the faculty lounge is not working.
12:23 - the machine in the senior lounge is 25 cents more! (no cans)
12:29 - finally get to some planning for tomorrow.
1:03 - we're late to our textbook meeting. i don't want anything different for next year. work on Desmos fellowship application while everyone chats.
1:35 - back to campus ministry to talk about the trip
2:30 - it's time for the religion textbook meeting
2:32 - my bad, that meeting was at 2pm and i missed it.
2:34 - stop by religion to apologize for being absent
2:37 - back to my office to pack up.
3:02 - time to leave!
3:05 - run home. change clothes. pick up bags.
3:21 - drive to the mall.
3:29 - return amazon purchase to locker.
3:37 - drive to walmart. return mission trip stuff and get $ back.
3:43 - drive to the gym.
4:30 Pump on Mondays - back in the routine! It feels good.
Somehow this only checks off like three things on my to do list for today. So it's back to work tonight in order to be ready for the kids to come back tomorrow! Bring it on fourth quarter!
When I first interviewed at AHN and the principal at the time explained Mini Course Week and the mission trip program to me, I immediately fell in love. Let me be clear that I don't exactly enjoy sharing one bathroom with 20 people or sleeping in a twin bed in the same room as another teacher or eating the last of whatever has been prepared for each meal, but I do love going on this trip because it is such an incredible experience for our students.
Our students worked so hard throughout the entire week, and I was constantly amazed at what they were able to do. On Monday we took up an entire floor (two floors of linoleum in some places); we're talking six hours of chipping away at a floor - and they rocked it. On Tuesday and Wednesday, it was all painting all the time. Thursday and Friday were spent laying the new floor. When I left for Lowe's on Thursday, our IT guy was laying the floor. By the time I returned four hours later, the girls were doing it all! Piecing the floor boards together, using the circular saw to cut boards, and nailing the quarter round into place using the t-nailer. They even wanted to come back after dinner to finish, but we convinced them to wait until Friday. That morning it took nearly two hours to place the final four boards around two toilets. They were incredibly proud of themselves for being able to use their math skills to figure out how to cut down the boards. It was so cool and an amazing example of persistence.
Not a single complaint in the entire week. We've been home for 2+ days, and I'm really excited to go back to school tomorrow. After being together 24/7, I miss them!
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Today, in a nutshell...
6am - alarm goes off
6:08 - snooze alarm goes off
6:16 - turn off snooze
6:25 - actually get out of bed, get dressed, do make up, brush teeth, etc
6:40 - make coffee and english muffin
6:48 - get in the car
6:54 - arrive at Christ the King for 7am mass (realize I can get there in 6 minutes...)
7am - mass begins
7:26 - scoot out after the final blessing since I'm supposed to be at work by 7:30
7:32 - park my car at school
7:38 - my entire department is in the office. we've been gone a week, and i missed them!
7:58 - run over to the media center for our meeting at 8
8am - play a sequencing game that involves communication. we aren't good at it.
8:20 - instructional tech specialist shares new info with us
8:50 - duck out with another teacher
8:55 - run to the bathroom with other teacher and realize our presentations complement each other
8:57 - where is our presentation? no one is in the room.
9am - guests arrive
9:02 - other teacher presents. i enjoy listening to her. it was fun when we shared a classroom last year
9:22 - it's my turn. pretty sure i forgot half of what i planned to say, but it was fine
9:44 - run back upstairs
9:58 - i need to be back in the media center, but i just got here!
10:04 - stop in campus ministry to share with sister about the trip
10:35 - finally leave.
10:37 - i'm really late now, but that's ok. other teachers are sharing about tech they use.
11:32 - it's time for lunch! free healthy lunch from the wellness committee
11:45 - i have to go meet one of our guests
11:49 - that was fast; back to my lunch
12:15 - i need a coke. not bringing my water cup today was a big mistake.
12:20 - the machine in the faculty lounge is not working.
12:23 - the machine in the senior lounge is 25 cents more! (no cans)
12:29 - finally get to some planning for tomorrow.
1:03 - we're late to our textbook meeting. i don't want anything different for next year. work on Desmos fellowship application while everyone chats.
1:35 - back to campus ministry to talk about the trip
2:30 - it's time for the religion textbook meeting
2:32 - my bad, that meeting was at 2pm and i missed it.
2:34 - stop by religion to apologize for being absent
2:37 - back to my office to pack up.
3:02 - time to leave!
3:05 - run home. change clothes. pick up bags.
3:21 - drive to the mall.
3:29 - return amazon purchase to locker.
3:37 - drive to walmart. return mission trip stuff and get $ back.
3:43 - drive to the gym.
4:30 Pump on Mondays - back in the routine! It feels good.
Somehow this only checks off like three things on my to do list for today. So it's back to work tonight in order to be ready for the kids to come back tomorrow! Bring it on fourth quarter!
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
What Running has Taught me about Teaching
Everyone needs a motivator.
This weekend I ran the Extra Yard 5k, a race benefiting the Extra Yard for Teacher Initiative through the College Football Playoff National Championship Game. There was one moment in particular where I just thought, "What if all of life was more like this?" I was about a half mile from the finish line, and three police officers from the City of Tampa stood on a corner clapping and cheering us on. They were smiling and watching us as individuals, tailoring their messages to each of us running. I was moved in thinking how our students need that type of support from us as teachers. They need to be validated as individuals and supported in their personal endeavors whether they are the best and brightest or someone who struggles with every single lesson. I felt like these (strangers) police officers truly wanted me to run my best race, and I wish that my students would have that experience every day in every class.
We're all in this together.
It's only now after a year of training, as I prepare for my third half marathon, that I dare to call myself a runner. As I read through running blogs and posts on Pinterest, I see so much about how the running community is one of great support and encouragement. The more races I run, the more I learn this for myself. There was a little girl, maybe five, running with her dad. I came up behind them just as she said, "No more running. We have to stop." At the same time as her dad said, "OK, we can walk," I ran beside them and said, "You're doing a great job!" The running community has taught me how important it is for us all to help each other. Some days you will be the one who needs to go slowly. Other days, that will be me. Regardless, we stay together until the end. We start together and we finish together.
You'll have good days and bad days.
I ran the best race of my life on Saturday. A freezing (literally) morning on a flat course lends itself to the ideal race, but my time was over seven minutes faster than my previous PR. That's an insane improvement for a 5K. As excited as I was (and believe me, I was excited, I cried), I know that the next time out I probably won't run as well. Such is life. We want continuous improvement, we strive for continuous improvement, but for every good day, there is also that bad day. The same is true in class. Right now my students are working with exponents and (to my delight) thriving! We are rolling with these conditions for as long as they last. At the same time, I know that the rest of the year will (sadly) not be like this. There will come another day, topic, or concept, and again they will struggle. Remembering these races and good days helps us power through the darker times.
You can do hard things.
This is undoubtedly the biggest lesson of my life. I have never considered myself a runner. I quit Couch 2 5K seven times before finally completing it. Many of the students I teach feel the same way about algebra as I do about running. Defeated. Math always came easily for me, so it's sometimes hard for me to identify with their difficulties in class. But my struggles each Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday remind me to be patient and encouraging with them in the learning process. I understand what it's like to feel like you can't do something and will never be able to. I know the frustration of watching others complete a task that you cannot. I am ever reminded of the growth mindset, to change my internal dialogue from can't to can't yet.
This weekend I ran the Extra Yard 5k, a race benefiting the Extra Yard for Teacher Initiative through the College Football Playoff National Championship Game. There was one moment in particular where I just thought, "What if all of life was more like this?" I was about a half mile from the finish line, and three police officers from the City of Tampa stood on a corner clapping and cheering us on. They were smiling and watching us as individuals, tailoring their messages to each of us running. I was moved in thinking how our students need that type of support from us as teachers. They need to be validated as individuals and supported in their personal endeavors whether they are the best and brightest or someone who struggles with every single lesson. I felt like these (strangers) police officers truly wanted me to run my best race, and I wish that my students would have that experience every day in every class.
We're all in this together.
It's only now after a year of training, as I prepare for my third half marathon, that I dare to call myself a runner. As I read through running blogs and posts on Pinterest, I see so much about how the running community is one of great support and encouragement. The more races I run, the more I learn this for myself. There was a little girl, maybe five, running with her dad. I came up behind them just as she said, "No more running. We have to stop." At the same time as her dad said, "OK, we can walk," I ran beside them and said, "You're doing a great job!" The running community has taught me how important it is for us all to help each other. Some days you will be the one who needs to go slowly. Other days, that will be me. Regardless, we stay together until the end. We start together and we finish together.
You'll have good days and bad days.
I ran the best race of my life on Saturday. A freezing (literally) morning on a flat course lends itself to the ideal race, but my time was over seven minutes faster than my previous PR. That's an insane improvement for a 5K. As excited as I was (and believe me, I was excited, I cried), I know that the next time out I probably won't run as well. Such is life. We want continuous improvement, we strive for continuous improvement, but for every good day, there is also that bad day. The same is true in class. Right now my students are working with exponents and (to my delight) thriving! We are rolling with these conditions for as long as they last. At the same time, I know that the rest of the year will (sadly) not be like this. There will come another day, topic, or concept, and again they will struggle. Remembering these races and good days helps us power through the darker times.
You can do hard things.
This is undoubtedly the biggest lesson of my life. I have never considered myself a runner. I quit Couch 2 5K seven times before finally completing it. Many of the students I teach feel the same way about algebra as I do about running. Defeated. Math always came easily for me, so it's sometimes hard for me to identify with their difficulties in class. But my struggles each Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday remind me to be patient and encouraging with them in the learning process. I understand what it's like to feel like you can't do something and will never be able to. I know the frustration of watching others complete a task that you cannot. I am ever reminded of the growth mindset, to change my internal dialogue from can't to can't yet.
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