Making Sense of Assessment...My Grading Philosophy

As many of you know, I have struggled to find good and valid ways to assess the kids in my classes. And if you have any twitter presence at all, you know that there has been quite possibly the most epic discussion ever held on that platform about Standards Based Grading*. If nothing else good comes from this twitter discussion, it has been an opportunity for me (and several others) to really reflect on what it is that makes assessment in my classroom authentic and not just some random number that gets translated into a grade.

Warning: personal conjecture ahead...
The thing about the grading and assessment that occurs in your class is that it is extremely personal.** It truly ties into what your teaching philosophy really is. Think back on your teacher preparation classes for just a second. Did ANY of you have ANY kind of instruction or even guidance as to how to grade the kids in your classes?? I didn't. I'm not sure I know anyone who has. Essentially, we were set loose with the assumption that we would figure it out. Now if you were anything like me, I just graded how I had been graded in the past. I kind of started with 100% tests. Now you realize in high school pretty quickly that that is probably a bad idea.*** So I made it something like 20% homework. Then I added in some participation points. And for the love of everything holy, I gave extra credit for bringing in kleenex. Hey, everyone had a cold that year.

And so over the years, it just kind of morphed into something that really reflected what I believed as a teacher was important. My guess is that you have probably followed a similar path to end up with whatever type of assessment regime you currently work under. It has taken me quite awhile and a good bit of trial and error, but I have finally arrived at a place where I really feel like the final grade that I assign to any given student is one that I feel good about.

So in the spirit of waxing philosophical, here is my personal grading philosophy...

1. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that a grade a student receives in my chemistry class should be a reflection of what he knows about chemistry. Period. Done. That's it. You're acting up in class today? Fine. I will deal with that, but not by reducing your grade. You want to bring cookies in for my birthday? Aw...I love you even more. But not enough to give you extra credit. For me, grades are NOT a classroom management tool. I don't hold points over your head to make sure you don't cause me any problems. In turn, I don't reward you with points for sucking up.

2. I am going to be as clear and concise as I possibly can as to what it is you need to know. I use Standards Based Grading in my classroom for a lot of reasons, but first and foremost I use it as a tool to describe exactly what skills and ideas you need to master in order to navigate through a specific class.

3. I am not going to give you points for your homework. Probably the biggest argument I hear about this is that by not grading homework, we are not preparing kids for the "real world".**** I give homework about once a week. This is typically practice and an extension of what we have learned in class. Kids know they are expected to complete it (yes, I keep track) and they know that the next day we will whiteboard it in class. When I first started whiteboarding, I didn't realize what a powerful formative assessment tool this can be. As kids are preparing their boards, I wander around and answer questions and listen to the discussions. That right there gives me mountains of information about whether or not kids are getting it. Then those kids present their work. I have a group of kids this year who fight over who gets to present. Know why? Because it helps cement in their brains what it is we are doing. I have teachers who argue that this is a waste of class time. (Seriously.) They don't have time for kids to go over every single homework assignment. I just have to say that I do not agree. For me, if it is important enough to assign, it is important enough to go over with my kids. Amazingly enough, even though I am not bribing them with points, I have found that kids still do their homework. Can you guess why? Because they see the value in it. They understand that if I am going to give them the opportunity to practice those skills and give them feedback on their progress then they will be much more successful when it comes to test time.

4. I don't do averages. This is a big one. I don't have too many standards that kids are expected to master in any of my classes. How you score on each target counts individually towards your final overall grade, but one does not override the other. This means that one target is no more important than another. You have to know them all. You can't do horrible on Conservation of Mass and balance that out by totally rocking Stoichiometry.

5. There will be lots of opportunities to reassess on something you didn't understand the first time around. I more or less have my targets set up in a way that allows me to circle back to each one over and over again throughout the year. For me, if I haven't assessed that target more than three times in the trimester, it is worth a look at rewriting. I really don't believe education is a one time shot. Listening to some of my colleagues and a surprising number of parents, this goes against everything they believe education should be. There is also a big debate on the whole retake thing. That is an individual preference and can be handled in a lot of ways. In general, a student cannot walk through my door and just get a retake. I have allowed that in some cases, but there is a lot of work on the student's part that must be done before I will let that happen.

6. I care that you are understanding what I am teaching. How that translates into a letter grade is a side concern of mine. All that letter does is give you an idea of where you stand in your mastery of the standards. Notice that I did NOT say where you stand in relation to your peers. Grades are not a competition in my room. If what you know rewards you an A, awesome. If you "only" get a B, awesome. You're getting an F? Um, you really aren't getting it. Get in here and let's see where you have gone off track.

I think that pretty much sums it up! Now that I actually have it on paper and can look at each point individually, I really feel better about the decisions I have made to change my classroom assessment.

Our district has just started the conversation about how to move to a more transparent system of grading. I'm not sure how it is going to go. We spent nearly two hours debating the homework issue one day. This could get pretty interesting, so I will keep you posted on that one...


*This thing has raged on for weeks now, one THREAD has over 2,000 replies, and at this point is mostly at a point of last-worditis and not so veiled name-calling because Frank and Brian and lots and lots of others realized you can't have a decent discussion when the other side refuses to even pretend you might know what you are talking about...good luck @DataDiva :) And truly, this has morphed into something that isn't even really about grades any more.

**I am NOT saying that it should be, just that it is.

***Ironically, I am sort of back to that theory now...

****This. Right here. This is probably the worst argument I hear. Besides teaching, in what world are kids going to have three hours of homework every night to be turned in the next day??? In what job are kids going to get a reward for every. little. thing. they. do??

Why I Started

Some of you know how this year has been a struggle for me. Just getting through all the new red tape this year is enough to crush anyone's spirit. Couple that with some health issues and I have been about as unmotivated as I can get.

A while back I got an email inviting me to apply for a research opportunity at Kansas University. Part of the application required me to write out my teaching philosophy in less than 250 words. Um, okay. To be honest, I haven't really thought much about my philosophy in recent years. It just seemed like something that was always kind of there at the periphery, but nothing really concrete.

So when I sat down to write this, I really wondered if my overall philosophy had changed much since I began. I can remember being incredibly naive and optimistic about what it took to inspire kids. Then, of course, reality set in and I began to really lose sight of why I was here. Mostly, I alternate between feeling like the greatest teacher ever to worrying that I am doing it all wrong.

But then again, the kids I have now are not the same kids I had a decade ago. Teaching is not the same. Society has changed. Education in general is not the same. So it stands to reason that I am not the same teacher.

Strangely enough, my philosophy hasn't shifted much from its original ideals. I still believe science is the greatest subject out there. I still believe that what I am doing is important. And I still believe in every kid. So here it is, my new and improved (and just under the 250 word limit) teaching philosophy.

I believe a good number of my students are inherently interested in science. Let’s face it, science is cool. On any given day I have at least one reference to the Discovery channel or some really cool item that was heard on the news. The trick is to get them to really look beyond the big picture and see the details; get them to see the how and the why and the what if that comes with true understanding.

I believe I have the power to either nurture or crush a child. I can take their interest and feed it or bore them to death with the mind-numbing details that I used to think were important. 

I believe in challenging my kids. My classroom has shifted over the years. I can now honestly say that my students are active learners. We do labs and the data matters. We draw conclusions and present them to our peers. We have to explain ideas in ways so others can understand them. This sounds so easy on paper, but in reality, this is way out of the comfort zone of so many of my students.

I believe in my kids as students, people and scientists. There is something that makes every student tick. If you can find that and tie into that passion, you've got them. I realize how jaded a teacher can become, so after 16 years teaching, I am glad I still hold on to that belief.

Happy New Year, everyone, I truly hope it is the best yet.

Science and Inquiry...What is it Anyway?

So Frank tweeted out a post by Paul. Now, coming from Frank, I was expecting a link to some amazing new teacher with some great idea I could steal and implement into my classroom. This is, after all, why I have twitter. So I was quite surprised* to find an article comparing scientific inquiry to reform math (whatever that is). My first reaction was not favorable, so I looked around to see if I could find out more about Paul. His page says he is a middle school science teacher, but I couldn't seem to find much of anything that lets me see inside his classroom. Maybe that isn't the point of his blog, and that is fine, but he doesn't seem to like science education all that much.

But that isn't really my point. I'm not really into bashing other people, but this post bothered me because it seems to reflect what a lot of science teachers (and administrators and parents and others) think inquiry really is.

Go ahead. Ask someone what an inquiry based classroom should look like. For the most part, you will get an answer along the lines of "kids are exploring whatever they want and calling it science." This misconception is why some science teachers "don't do inquiry."

I'm not sure how this perception of inquiry became so mainstream, however, if you actually read The 5 Essential Features of Inquiry described by the National Research Council (2000), you will find an explanation that it probably strays quite a bit from your definition.

1. The learner engages in scientifically oriented questions.
This does not mean they have to come up with their own questions. I can give them a question. I can even give them the procedure. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. The important part is that the activity is focused on a specific idea that I want kids to understand.

2. The learner gives priority evidence in responding to questions.
The key word here is "evidence." It is vital that we are using data to formulate the answer to our question. So we take data. Then we decide whether or not it is good data. If it's not, then we get back in the lab and figure out what we did that doesn't allow us to draw a conclusion.

3. The learner formulates explanations based on evidence.
This is the hard part. In most science classes, the data doesn't mean squat. We did a lab. It was fun, but I can answer all those conclusion questions by reading my textbook. Being able to truly explain what the data means and drawing those relationships is tough for a lot of kids. And adults.

4. The learner connects explanations to scientific knowledge.
So we have made it through the lab and have a conclusion based on our results. Now the big question is whether or not our conclusion stands up against what we already know. Does our data support the accepted theory or not? When you think about it, this is the whole point of science. Using new data to corroborate or not on a given theory and building our knowledge base allows us to question even more.

5. The learner communicates and justifies explanations.
Oh that communication piece. In my classroom, not only do students have to write conclusions that incorporate at least three different representations of their data, but they also have to present their results to the class. This is why I love the whiteboarding. Kids get up and explain to their peers what their data means and what their conclusions are. They have to really understand the ideas and be able to articulate them in a way that can be understood by others. Then they get to answer any questions that might get thrown their way and justify their conclusions.


A student-centered, inquiry-based classroom does NOT mean the students get free reign and control over their learning experience. If that were true, they wouldn't need me. Student centered means that those kids are not just writing down everything I say, filling out a worksheet and parroting it back to me on a test. That isn't learning. Plus, that is boring.

I teach in an inquiry-based classroom and let me tell you, it takes a lot of work and careful construction to get kids where I need them to go. Even Shawn, whose kids go off in the most amazing of directions, gives kids a lot more support than you might think. Again, inquiry is NOT about sending kids off on their own, hoping they come up with the "right" answer. It is about helping construct their own knowledge and make sense of the world around them. Without a textbook. Yes, it can be done.

I will also tell you that teaching using inquiry does NOT "lower the...bar for success." If all you are doing is having kids "do" science with out them learning any science, maybe science (or teaching in general) is not for you. I have mentioned before how good this way has been for "those" kids in my classes and I believe you have heard me talk about how some of those "upper-level" kids really struggle when it comes to actually thinking about the material.

Inquiry is an entire process that encompasses a whole lot more than just the procedure. When done correctly, it is a rich learning environment that involves active, student centered learning, communication and critical thinking.

Really, you should try it.


*Frank was really on a roll today with way out of character recommendations.

Beyond Tourism

For the last couple days, I have been trekking around the Badlands National Park with Don Duggan-Haas as a part of the ReaL Earth Inquiry Project. This is the second year that I have been lucky enough to be involved with this and have loved every minute of it. Not only do you get to hang out with amazing teachers, but we are creating what Don refers to as VFEs. This deserves its own post, so I will come back to that soon.

Today, we were at the Yellow Mounds and while I am over trying to figure out where the fault line actually ran, a tour bus pulled into the parking area. Out jumped a couple dozen people who on average walked about 15 steps away from the bus and took approximately 100 pictures of the "pretty rocks."

I watched them for a few minutes as they pivoted around, smiled, chatted and loaded back on the bus to travel on to their next stop. I couldn't help but think about how different our experiences were at this exact same place.

Yes, the Yellow Mound are gorgeous and deserve to be front and center in a landscape photo. But what really gets me is that so few people are truly concerned with WHY they are so gorgeous. How did they get there? For goodness sake, why are they yellow?

I thought about that for awhile and how I honestly cannot drive by a formation in any location any more without trying to figure out what it is and how it formed. While my family is usually pretty game, at some point I have to roll the window down and snap a picture on the go because they get annoyed when we have to stop more than five times on a trip to pick up rocks. I tried to think back to a time when I just looked at the rocks (or looked past the rocks) without trying to decode the history. And I couldn't.

This is my hope for my kids. When they take my geology class (or astronomy, meteorology, whatever) I hope they begin to appreciate how beautiful a world we live in and that there is so much we don't know about it.

I have had a couple instances where kids have apparently against their will really got into the actual learning. And I cannot tell you how that makes my heart sing.

Jesse came into my astronomy class one day and threw his books down and said, "Mrs. Schroeder, I hate this class." I was extremely confused by this because he seemed like he was really enjoying it. He said he was driving home with his family last night and started pointing out stars and constellations. "You have me talking to my mother and I don't like it."

This spring I overhead the baseball coach talking about kids in the outfield looking like they were staring at the sky during practice. I smiled the rest of the day when I realized they were in my meteorology class and were trying to figure out what types of clouds were out that day.

So it is possible. There is the chance that what I am doing is reaching through and sticking with some. Not as many as I would like, but I suppose I can start small.

Graduation Cards

So the other day, my nephew graduated from Flint Hills Technical College. I was only planning on paying attention as he walked across because I didn't think I knew anyone else who was receiving that honor. But as we were waiting for the ceremony to begin, I skimmed through the program. At the bottom of the third page was a name I recognized, but never would have expected to see there.

And my heart just swelled.

Cory was a student of mine several years ago. He was a great kid, but came to us with a whole host of disadvantages. He was one of those that I wish I could have taken home and just given another chance.

I always feel so proud of my kids when they have accomplished something amazing like that. I never know how some of them are going to feel about it, so I try not to make too big of a deal about it, but when I got home, I sat down and wrote Cory a note. Just a short congratulations to let him know his accomplishment had not gone unnoticed.

The next day, I had the opportunity to watch my seniors walk across the stage. Mary and Garrett are two kids that I have loved watching grow over the last few years and I am going to miss them terribly.

Mary is one of those students we wish we could duplicate. She is brilliant, organized, driven and she loves learning. As her track coach I threatened to put her in the 3200 m so she would get bored running in circles and discover the cure for cancer. There has never been any doubt that she wouldn't make it through high school and there is no doubt that she will make it through college and graduate school.

Garrett holds a special place in my heart as well. As a freshman, he was awkward and more than a little bit annoying. As a sophomore, he was still awkward, but slightly less annoying. He never made it out of the slightly annoying phase, but really grew into his own person. He is unique in a lot of ways and I really believe that one of these days, he will discover his calling and find his niche.

I have tried to write notes to each of them, tried to express how much I learned and benefited from having them move through my life. I still haven't found the right words for either of their cards.

Sometimes they just don't come out right.

Twenty Tiny Caskets

I apologize. I need somewhere to put this or I simply might not make it through my day.

I am sitting here in the middle of the night, having been awakened by my six year old who is not feeling well and just wants to be near his mom. He has long since gone back to sleep, but I keep reaching over to give him little hugs and kisses that he will not remember in the morning. I have school tomorrow and I know I am going to be way too tired to cross anything off of my list, but right now, I am savoring this insomnia. My heart is full and I feel so blessed because today, my babies came home safe from school.

I have limited my television and internet use the last few days because I know that no matter where I turn, there will be coverage of the events (does tragedy even describe it?) in Connecticut. And I can’t watch. My mind cannot even begin to comprehend this one. So I am hugging my children and distancing myself from the storm.

As a parent, I cannot fathom losing a child. I cannot imagine going over to my mantle and taking down an empty stocking. I cannot imagine putting away all the angry birds scattered in every corner of the house because there is no one left to play with them. I cannot imagine sending my children off on the school bus never to see them again. I have been close to some who have traveled down that dark road and I have no idea how they found the strength to go on. There are not enough prayers in the world, but I will continue to send them up anyway.  

As a teacher, there are so many things that race through my mind. You cannot escape the pictures of the six adults who were lost and I am all too aware that in the society we live in, it could have just as easily been me. Today they are celebrated as heroes for protecting the life of someone else’s child. We give them that lip service, but do we truly have any idea what that actually means? Do we just assume now that teaching is an occupation that could possibly involve that sacrifice? I picture my boy's kindergarten teachers. Those calm souls who never seem to raise their voices, going through their days with the unbelievable patience it takes to teach toddlers to read and write. Would any of them protect my baby? Would I expect them to?

I wonder what goes through your mind when you know the children in your classroom are threatened. Do you think about shoving kids into closets or is it an automatic reaction? How in the world do you think fast enough to tell a madman that your kids are all in the gym in order to keep them hidden? Do you practice that?

I find myself wondering how I would handle a similar situation. I spend my life raising other people’s children, and as a result, I come to love so many of them. It’s really not that difficult when you realize they are more often than not kids who just want to know that someone cares about them. Could I sacrifice myself for these kids that I love knowing that my own children would grow up without a mother? I suppose that isn't something you think about beforehand.

Today I found myself watching my students more than usual. Found myself making an inventory of everything I knew about each one. That one lives with her grandmother because her mother is in prison. The girl next to her is in foster care because of things so unspeakable. He forgot to take his meds this morning so there is no way he is going to make it through the day without a trip to the principal. That boy wants to be an engineer and I am pretty sure the boy next to him is hungover. What issues are they dealing with? Are they happy? Hurting? Can I make it better? If I go to the music program tonight, would it make an enormous difference to that one child? Did I say something today that gave them a reason to be happy? Or something that tore them down? I nearly panicked this morning when I missed saying hello to one of the kids I passed in the hall because I know how important it is to him.

Four times this year my community has seen first hand how not having a purpose in life can devastate a person. Bright kids with their whole lives ahead of them decided there was no point. Was there something I could have done differently that might have sent one of them on a different path? When would I have found time for that? Helping students set goals and working out a plan to achieve those goals is not a priority for us because rich, white men in power have decided that a test score is the best way to decide a child's worth. You don't need counselors for that. Or librarians. Or even actual teachers.

People are going to try to spin this event into their own agenda. Is it about mental illness? Gun control? God was just having a bad day? I am honestly waiting for someone to come out and blame his past teachers. We will point fingers and try to assign blame somewhere other than where it might actually lie.

It belongs with all of us. I have no idea what his issues were and I have no intention of finding out. What I know is that we as a society were not there for someone who needed help. For all our talk of opportunity and hope, we as a people tend to turn our backs on those who need us most. Look away and we can pretend the problems don't exist. When the options run out, what is left? Our media told him it was okay to use violence as a solution to his problems and so he did.

I don't know what I can do. All I know is I will try to guide each child as they come to me. I can give them the tools they need to think critically and maybe show them that they can be successful when presented with a challenge. And I hope they know I am someone they can come to if they need help.

And I will hug my own children tighter in the morning, hoping and praying they never have to know what it is like to experience something like this.

Missing Class

For the second day in a row, we have not had class during second hour. Three hours worth of class time gone.

Yesterday, the sophomores took a field trip to Flint Hills Technical College to explore options there. This is important. Technical colleges are not what they used to be. And that is a good thing. Most people, when asked, will give a pretty negative review of a technical college even if they have no idea what goes on in one. Welding. I would venture to say that is the first thought that comes up. But it is not an accurate one. So it's a good thing that kids get out and explore those options.

I'm okay with letting kids go.

Today, we had an assembly featuring the Butler County Community College Headliners. I had never seen them perform before. Mostly I was upset to lose another class day to go watch singers.

And then they sang.

Wow.

It was impressive. I couldn't find a video anywhere to share and to be honest, I can't even find a link to the Headliners on Butler's site. This is as close as I could get.

We got back to class and the kids couldn't stop talking about the show. These are kids that don't talk about anything in a good way. They were as impressed as I was.

One kid, one who is in danger of not getting a degree, now wants to join our school singers. Unfortunately, he will not be able to. Even if his schedule allowed it, our administration probably would not. He was not proficient on the state math assessment. So he gets pulled out of his "unimportant" classes to take a refresher math course. Maybe he will pass it this time around. He was also not proficient on his state reading assessment. Same thing. There is no chance this child will be able to take a class that he might enjoy and maybe even excel at.

What are we doing for our kids if we take them out of those things that they really are interested in?

How do we convince them that we are "doing this for your own good" when they hate every second of the day?

How do we make education about the kids and not about the adults?

Failures, Mistakes and Other Learning Tools

Yesterday* on Twitter, Adam asked the question.

How do we teach students it is okay to fail. Can we set up something? #edchat
— Adam Taylor (@2footgiraffe) July 10, 2012

This started a conversation that has been bothering me since. Basically, we were trying to come up with working definitions of failure and mistake. Can either of them be fixed? Some mistakes can't, but failure also implies an ending. I don't know the answer, but I know I'm not going to get terribly hung up on the technicalities.

The whole theme was how to get kids comfortable with failing. We teach them from the beginning that it really isn't okay, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise in my classroom that they are afraid to go there.

This is never more evident in Chemistry than when we go through our first lab. It has six parts that reinforce lab skills and investigate the conservation of mass. After each part, we talk about the results and work through an analysis. More often than not, there is at least one set of data that really doesn't allow us to draw any kind of conclusion. We get to talk about precision and careful measurements and what constitutes good data. And we all get to try it again if we don't like our initial results.

Today, however, was the first day I ever had someone cry.

Part five: Does mass change when sugar and water are mixed? Her group had gained a significant amount of mass somewhere between here and there. When I called on the group to explain what they did and how they ended up with those results, it came out that they had forgotten to mass the sugar before they added it to the water. In the following discussion, I looked over, and bless her, she had her head ducked down to the table, sniffling into her lab notebook.

When I asked why she was so upset, she looked at me like I had drowned her kitten and said, "but I was WRONG!"

And I said, "SO?"

Now, my classroom can rarely described as silent, but at that moment, you could hear the hum of my hard drive. She and nearly all of her classmates stared at me like I had truly gone insane.

"What do you mean, so?" she asked. "How am I supposed to get an A in this class if I can't even get the first lab right? I have to start catching up already and apparently chemistry isn't my thing and I haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

Oh, Honey.**

I asked her if she knew what her group had done wrong and whether or not it could be fixed. Did she think maybe she could go back and redo her lab?

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then let's go do it."

That silent thing again...

"You mean we can fix this?"

Of course, child, how do you think you are going to learn if I just cut you off now? I WANT you to understand the conservation of mass, and I want you to understand it because YOU figured it out, not because I told you it was true.

To be honest, I'm not sure they all bought into it. I don't think they believe that I am going to allow force them to do it on their own. You can see it in their eyes. "Yeah, she might let me have ONE more try. On this easy lab. What if I REALLY screw up later on? What if I try it again and STILL don't get good results. What if chemistry really isn't my thing? What if I get a B?"

I'm not sure if this would be considered a failure or a mistake, and I don't really care. I just want my kids to feel comfortable taking risks in my classroom. This constant pressure to be perfect when perfect doesn't necessarily mean you have any idea what's going on. And for Newton's sake, quit quoting me wikipedia.

Maybe getting this out of the way early is a good thing. I am implementing capstones this year as a part of my assessment, and if I truly want my kids to go places with those, then they are going to have to take those risks and stretch those brains. I know it's scary and I know I am fighting a slightly inclined battle, but I truly feel like it's worth it.

And, really, I'm not good with crying.


*And by yesterday, I mean sometime last summer when I started this post and had to stop to get one of my children somewhere.

**Okay, first off, didn't you pay attention when I talked about grades and reassessment stuff??

Dealing with Crisis

Finally, this week is over.

Warning: Depressing Post Ahead

I have had a few of you email me about how to handle situations like this with your own kids. Now, I am the first to admit that I am in no way an expert in psychology and I have never had any kind of crisis training (seems like a gaping hole in my education, doesn't it?). I also do not claim that this is how you should handle anything because this may or may not work for you. This is, however, how I made it through this week. Sometimes, just having a plan can be a major step forward.

I do not know how it is in other places and I am guessing there is something similar in place wherever you are. My district is a part of a larger consortium of several other districts that share counselors at times like this. When the neighboring district lost three kids in a car crash last year, our counselors spent a few days there, while their counselor could be seen in our halls this last week. These amazing people handle the major counseling issues, but there is no avoiding some of it in your room.

Full disclaimer: I still don't know what to say.

1. If you do not have any in your room, go buy a couple boxes of real Kleenex. A roll of toilet paper just isn't going to cut it today.

2. While you are out, grab some Tylenol. You will not believe the headaches that can suddenly occur on days like this.

3. If at all possible, get your own meltdown out of the way. Depending on how close you were to the student, this could come at any time. Our counselors have some varying opinions about letting students see you cry, but they all agree that completely losing it in front of your class should be avoided at all costs. Best advice from the biggest, meanest, manliest sophomore you have ever seen: "If you need to cry, cry. That's what I do."

4. Along those lines, get someone else to read the statement. First thing Monday morning, we were to read an announcement to our first hour class. This is to make sure everyone knows what happened and to clear up any rumors that may have started. Even when I did not know the student well, I have a terrible time reading these statements. For this one, I couldn't even look at the paper with out tearing up, so I knew there was no way I was going to make it through saying it out loud. Try reading it out loud before class starts to see if you can actually say the words. If not, go find one of the counselors to read it for you.

5. Be prepared for any emotion to come on at any time. Monday, kids were still more or less in shock. There were a lot of sudden teary outbursts. We literally had a counselor assigned to our hallway, so any student who had to leave the room was immediately intercepted. If this is not the case, be sure to call the office and let someone know. Many students just wanted a moment alone, which is fine, we just need to know where they are. On Tuesday, some of the anger was beginning to show, especially by some of his close friends. Kids need to know that this is normal. For some, this may be their first experience with death and they may need reassurance that what they are feeling is not wrong. I had an explosion in my room when our Drama Queen told someone that he shouldn't be mad at a dead person.

6. If you had the student in class, if at all possible, find a way to rearrange your desks. If nothing else, at least get new seating arrangements.

7. Get your kids moving. Our philosophy is to keep things as normal as possible. There will be students that think we should sit around all day and cry. There are others who may not be overly affected by the situation and do not need to be pulled into the crisis. Either way, kids are going to need something to occupy their wandering mind. Down time is the enemy here. My plan for Monday was to work on balancing chemical equations. On paper. Sitting down. Even though we weren't there yet and they may or may not remember any of it, I switched the plan to a lab over reaction types. It has 13 different mini labs in it and kept kids moving and changing their focus every few minutes. And it was a step-by-step-now-do-this type of lab, so kids didn't have to really think too hard to get to the next step. This apparently had an impact because I had three parents call me the next day and say thank you.

8. #7 will not keep all kids on task. There was, of course, non-chemistry discussion. In general, we are supposed to discourage those discussions, but there are some kids who really need to say some things. If they know you were close to the student, it is entirely possible that they will want to say them to you. To be honest, I think these comments are healthy (again, no training) and normal. Most of the side discussions were memories. It doesn't take much, however, to cross over into the "whys" and "what ifs" that invariably come. Our official response to that is "It does not matter anymore." I have a hard time with this, because, while true, it seems kind of harsh. But then again, that's life. Kids who can't get past this need to be referred to the counselor. Also, any sentence that starts with, "Well, I heard..." is to be immediately cut off.

9. Plan something interesting, but not crucial for the day of the funeral. We do not let school out the day of a funeral for a student or staff member. Anyone is allowed to go, but we are also here for the kids who do not feel like they need to attend. We get a lot of criticism for this. From everyone. I used to feel that way until my daughter was in kindergarten. A sixth grade boy she did not know had died of cancer and they had the day off. She was adamant that she was required to attend the funeral and it took a lot of convincing her not to feel guilty that she wasn't. We do not want to put pressure on kids to do something they may not be ready for. On the flip side of that, be prepared for kids to go to the funeral simply to get out of school. Get over it and move on. We made golden pennies and shot off water rockets on that day. Something fun and educational, but no one has to make it up.

10. Don't expect to get much done for a few days, but keep moving on.

I don't know about you, but this has been amazingly therapeutic for me. Again, this is in no way, shape or form to be considered expert advice. Every situation is different and every reaction is different. Your district may very well have an entirely different philosophy on things and you may be required to handle situations differently. Sometimes, just knowing ahead of time can make all the difference.

Coming soon: Much more upbeat post having something to do with teaching.

Early Graduates: A Clash in Philosophy

I'm going through something of a mid-career crisis right now. It's not that I don't still love my job, I do. I just feel like I am doing something wrong. Actually, not so much me personally (although I am sure there is a lot I am doing wrong), but more the whole system.

It's pre-enrollment time here at my school. This morning, we sat through an "inservice" designed to help us to help our seminar kids to figure out what classes they need to take next year.

One of our big issues this year has been getting kids (mostly seniors) to take an actual class instead of "volunteer service" or being a student aide. We had some problems with our schedule this year that caused sort of a traffic jam with certain classes and kids ended up being placed into classes they really didn't want to take or being shuttled off to be an aide somewhere.

During our discussion, this issue came up. We were being told to encourage seniors, especially, to take more rigorous classes. Don't let them slack off just because they are seniors*. Actually, encourage is not the right word, more like force them to take classes they really don't want to take, just so we can tell ourselves that we are encouraging rigor.

They are resisting. They are pushing back. I know this is not new. Kids have slacked off their senior year probably since the senior year was invented, but lately, it seems like it's a much bigger issue than it has been in the past.

My district allows early graduates. Traditionally, this option has only been allowed for a few kids a year, and those kids are usually ones that struggle and see it as an incentive to pass all their classes. Since we went to a trimester schedule, it has been a lot easier for kids to get all the credits they need to graduate before the end of their senior year. This has served to add to the list of those who can escape graduate early.

It has also agitated our principal (and many of our teachers) as we cling to the idea that we have these kids from August to May for four years.

I've been thinking about this today and maybe I'm in the minority here, but what I can't figure out is why is this such a big deal? For my state, funding is based on the enrollment at the end of September, so that would not be affected. Are we afraid of everyone thinking that our school is not rigorous** enough?

Maybe I feel this way because I know those kids are going to be stuck in one of my classes because they will think it is the easy way out. When a kid truly does not want to be in my classroom, I hate it just as much (maybe more) than he does.

I feel like we are doing so many things wrong in our schools. We have a system that has not changed in decades. We still require the same things that were required when I graduated. And probably more or less the same things that were required when my mom graduated.

Have you ever really sat down and thought about how much the world has changed since then? Good Lord, we've really only had Internet for the last decade or so.

Kids have different values, different home lives, different expectations. Kids have changed. Is it for the better? I don't know, but I don't think we can ignore that fact.

I think we have to adapt. We can't keep talking about "21st Century Skills"*** like they are things we will need in the future. We needed them a decade ago. We have to find a way to meet the needs of these kids. We have to be willing to realize that we have to change when the world does. 

Otherwise, I just don't see how we can survive.


NOTE: Sorry about that. I realize this may not represent a string of coherent thoughts, but boy do I feel better.

*What you don't have that problem???

**I am beginning to hate that word, but that is a whole other post.

***What are those anyway? Could we BE any more vague?

****Got a little crazy on the foot notes. See NOTE above.

This is Why My Job is So Much Harder

During my seminar, students are not allowed to go anywhere if they are failing a class.

Yesterday I sent a student to a teacher whose geography class she was failing. Today, she was so excited that she was now passing that class. She said that by going in to talk to him about her grade, he was willing to give her an extra 50 points just for having a good attitude.

I really can't compete with this.

Teaching "Those Kids"

Warning: Rant ahead.

We have a teacher in our Modeling group who has been grating on my nerves for two years now*. His voice is a constant murmur in the back of the room that never turns off. Kind of like the air conditioner fan.

But that's not what has me upset with him.

We were having a discussion about how to guide our kids through the labs and help them draw conclusions that are close to where we want them to go. Now the whole idea here is that we don't make it obvious that we are guiding them, but that they come into these ideas on their own.

Walk into my room at any hour on any given day and you will generally find about half of my kids have an IEP. Most of the others will be considered at-risk. I don't have books. I have had kids who misspell their own name.

What I have is an engaged (mostly) class.**

My class population has had this profile for several years now and while some teachers in my situation would simply curl up under their desks and cry,*** I decided that this was NOT going to do me in. I was going to persevere and triumph!

So back to the guy in class. His argument was that some of his kids wouldn't be capable of learning without him stepping in and explaining every little thing in detail. They simply couldn't do it.

Please.

This is not a student problem. This is a teacher problem. You as a teacher must drop ALL preconceptions you have of any one student or any one disability. These are kids who have been told throughout their education that they can't do it. They aren't smart enough. They're stupid. And they believe it.

Well, I am here to tell you: They can. They are. And no, they are not. Now I am not going to tell you that I have found some magic key that automatically unlocks every child's potential, as much as I wish I could.

What I can tell you is that you (YOU THE TEACHER) are the one that has to convince them otherwise. Never, ever allow a student to get away with calling himself "stupid" or "dumb" or "not smart enough to do this work". It is simply not true.

This is not easy. This is exhausting. Are you going to reach every kid? Nope, sorry. Is it going to matter to one child that you were willing to look past what everyone else sees and help him see himself in a more positive way? Yes. Yes, it will.

*Our awesome Modeling Institute has follow-up online meetings once per month.

**Our English teacher was complaining at lunch one day about having to teach a Remediation class that is a perfect mirror of my regular classes. Welcome to my world :)

***Wait, that was me in 2004.

The Battle for Next to Last

Several years ago, I was inexplicably talked into taking on the job of coaching cross country. I was a sprinter in high school and college, so the only thing I knew about distance runners was that they:

a. Left practice for long periods of time.

b. Ran outside in ANY weather.

c. Were more often than not, just a little bit weird.

"Just go run" was heard quite a bit that first year. I have since made it my job to know everything there is to know about aerobic conditioning, anaerobic conditioning, tempo runs, intervals and fartleks.*

Caught unawares, I was a stranger in a strange land at my first cross country meet. You want to see some intense competition, head over to the Wamego Invitational on the second Saturday in September. Simply amazing.

I had coached volleyball and basketball the few years before this, and was unprepared for the radical beating my coaching philosophy was about to take. At a volleyball tournament, my team had been smothered by an unbelievable group of eight girls whose coach never even spoke to them during the entire match. The girls knew what to do. They pressured each other. The corrected each other. They substituted themselves. Their coach had them trained.

Of course, being young and dumb as I was**, I jumped at the opportunity to talk to this coach in the hospitality room. He described his practices and philosophy. I can remember asking him if every girl in the school wanted to be a part of his team and whether or not he had to cut anyone. He said, no, he didn't have to worry about that because he created such an intense atmosphere that they cut themselves. I can remember thinking what a great idea that was and how that was the type of team I wanted to create. I even scribbled a note on the program about it.

Fast forward to me now in charge of a completely different world. I was digging through one of my many "Idea" file folders where I found that old program. I can remember that tournament like it was yesterday. I can see the faces and hear the voices. I can remember how I felt when I thought I had figured out the secret to a great team. I sat down in my chair and stared at that paper and thought, "what an idiot I was."

And then I thought, "what a jerk he was."

Being a part of what I am now, I can't imagine treating kids in the way that coach obviously did. I can't imagine putting a child in an environment where she felt like a loser whose only option was to quit something she once loved.

Now, I will grant you that cross country is not exactly a team sport, so the dynamics involved are somewhat different. But I will also tell you that everyone, everyone, is welcome on my team. I don't care what size or shape you come to me, you have a home here.

This year, I have Nate. Nate should be a part of our offensive line, but hated playing football. As you may well imagine, he is not one of my top runners. He is my bottom runner. Actually, he is everyone's bottom runner. Nate routinely finishes last. He's okay with that, and I'm okay with that. I put an immense focus on personal records (PRs) for my kids and would rather they improve in every race than medal***.

This year, there is a boy from a neighboring school who runs just about at Nate's pace (think turtles, only slower). This makes for some incredibly interesting finishes. The last race of the day. Everyone else is finished and possibly even cooled down. And here come the two last place finishers.

Cross country, I have found, is a sport where everyone encourages everyone else, no matter what uniform they are wearing. There is something about running several miles in a row that just makes people want you to do your best. So the scene at our last meet was just incredible. A hundred or so kids and adults lining the course, cheering on the two people left out there. Nate would surge ahead. The other boy would take back the lead. Nate would make his move. Kids are screaming. Arms are flailing. You would have thought it was for Olympic gold. It was one of the most intense sporting moments I have ever witnessed. 

When it was all over, I heard not a single negative comment. Both kids were congratulated. Both kids came away feeling like they gave it their all and did the best they could do. There were no snide remarks about the last place finisher. There was no one making fun of the "big, fat kid who can't run*."

There is hope for our future.

*To become a true distance coach, you must be able to tell a group of adolescent boys to go run a fartlek and not crack a smile.

**Oh, alright, often still am.
***Don't get me wrong, I love medals and winning, but for some kids, winning is defined in looser terms.
*This is how Nate describes himself.

What He Truly Believes

I have a student in one of my classes who is kind of hard to like.

Now, I can count on one hand the number of students over the years that I honestly could not stand. He is not one of them.

He is loud. He can't read. He is argumentative. He resists doing work (probably because he can't read). His normal speaking voice always sounds like an argument. But all those things don't mean that I dislike him.

I put up with a lot in my classroom. If I didn't, I would have most of my class in the office everyday. I work really hard to remember that these are kids. They are learning who they want to be and some of them are overcoming amazing obstacles simply by getting to school every day. Part of my job is to teach them science. The other part of my job, like it or not, is to model good behavior and to show those kids what is and is not appropriate in a school setting. I can't do either of those things if they aren't in my room.

Today, my "low" kids had a wonderful discussion about energy and states of matter. The kids (all of them!) were interested and participated  in the discussion (where are all the administrators today?) and ended up with all the conclusions I had hoped they would.

As the bell is ringing and the kids are headed out, he turns to me, dead serious, very matter-of-fact and says, "Mrs. Schroeder, I'm really glad that you don't think I'm stupid."

I cried.

Schizophrenic

I follow quite a lot of blogs. I mean a lot. I'm not even sure I can count that high.

A while back, I accidentally discovered the math blogosphere. I had no idea what a blog even was, let alone that there were teachers out there using them to share ideas.

From there, I discovered that there were science teachers out there who had classrooms that had kids doing what I wanted my kids to do.

So, I began filling my Reader with teachers who know what they are talking about. There was no organization to it, I would find someone who had something interesting to say and start following.

Today, I got a chance to sit down and do a little much needed Reader organization. I wouldn't have worried too much about it, but I would sit down and start at the top. It was an emotional rollercoaster going from one blog discussing SBG, to someone else trying to explain to the world how education is failing, to still another describing their struggles in going paperless and back to another incredible teacher getting their kids into inquiry.

Looking to compartmentalize a bit, I created six folders:
1. My Classes - Stuff that specifically pertains to the classes I teach. This is mostly connect-me-to-the-real-world type information and a lot of it gets reposted for my kids to see.

2. Technology - Pretty self-explanatory, really. I've come across many incredible tid-bits that I can try to integrate into my classroom.

3. Fun - Not education related, but help my brain change gears. Some days, believe it or not, I just need to not focus on teaching.

4. Policy - Educational policy and commentary on how education is being treated by our federal and state governments. I believe it is important to have this information, but these are the ones that make me cry, cuss and spit. I honestly have a hard time believing a lot of what is being done.

This is what makes me want to quit teaching.

5. Classroom - Here are the people who matter, who make a difference. Here I find my inspiration. These are the teachers who love teaching, love their kids and are not afraid to say so. AND they are willing to let me visit their classrooms.

This is is what makes me want to stay in teaching.

I have to say, this has made a huge difference in my outlook.

Probably because I have read everything in my Classroom folder and have 285 unread posts in my Policy folder.

I can really get used to this.

Academic Damage

I have to thank the Crazy Teacher Lady for this term. It's something I have been trying to pin down and couldn't seem to put into words. Even though I recognize it for what it is, I'm still trying to put words to it.

Katie is a student in my chemistry class this trimester. She is what most would consider a "good" student, which means that she knows the Rules to the Game and plays it very well. She gets good grades because she can read and can figure out what it is that makes the teacher happy.

She got an A in Chemistry.

And I am simply sick about it.

Katie is a Grade Junkie, make no mistake about it. She struggled early on to find the rhythm of my class, but once she figured out which buttons to press, she flew with it.

The problem was that I had to hold her hand the entire way. I had her in my seminar (30 minute study period) and about three days a week, she would sit down with me to review chemistry. She retook more quizzes than all the others put together and in so doing raised her grade.

Now, I am certainly not going to tell a student that she can't come in and study for my class, and I don't want to sound like I don't want my kids to work hard, but at the same time, it has never been about the learning for Katie.

I think what really hit home for me in this situation was the last quiz she took. She raised her hand eleven time on a three question quiz. Seriously.

"Did I set this up right?"

"Um, do you think you did?"

"Well, I just want to make sure."

Katie has retaken quiz after quiz. I have no idea how many hours she has put into adding points to her total, but she second guesses every single thing she writes down. Her second guessing doesn't stem from wanting to learn, it stems from not wanting to lose points.

What really bothers me is that I don't even think it's that she's not confident in her answers.

I don't think she knows the answers.

This trimester has built on itself. We started with naming and formulas. We used those formulas to balance equations. Those equations showed us mole relationships, that we used to find limiting reactant and percent yield. If you didn't know your naming, you were without a paddle.

Katie didn't know how to name compounds. She would study, pass the quiz and apparently reformat overnight. The next day she couldn't recognize a polyatomic.

Katie has an A in Chemistry, but I would bet my periodic table that if you asked her any question, right now, today, about the subject she wouldn't be able to answer it.

So I have failed Katie. By posting an A for her grade, I am allowing her to leave and give the impression to everyone who cares to look that she understands Chemistry when she truly doesn't.

And I have allowed her to continue on believing that she is getting an education, when I haven't kept my end of the bargain.

Where's the Love?

I was unofficially reprimanded today.

I have a student who has had a rough year. I have come to know her well from several years of being in class, as well as during extracurriculars. She stopped by me in the hall and we had a little chat before lunch. As she walked away, she simply said, "love you, Mrs. Schroeder" to which I responded "love you, too, hon." The power-that-be who was standing nearby swung around and proceeded to tell me that we are never to say something like that to a student.

Probably the biggest issue I have is that I have seen this same person not bat an eye at the disrespectful, hateful comments made toward or about other students. Some of those comments have been by students while others have been by staff members. They never get in trouble.

Why is he so opposed to expressing caring toward a student, but not the other way around?

The problem seems to be the difference between love and sex. I do not for a second believe my kids are confused on this issue. They see me more of a mother figure (their words, although it does kind of make me feel old) that is a stable force in their life and they know they can come to me if they need anything.

This summer I read Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. (All of them!) What kept coming back to me was that, oddly, the creatures in the books have no problem telling others how much they love each other. There are no sexual overtones (unless I totally missed that part) to the love, it is simply an expression of caring for another individual.

Why can't we all be like that?

Am I wrong on this?

NCLB: What It Really Looks Like

Today was one of the most stressful days I've had in quite awhile.

Today I gave my state physical science test to our juniors and some of our sophomores.

Just let me say upfront: I detest our state science assessment, and not just because it IS a state science assessment. The whole thing is messed up for several reasons.

First off, Kansas standards are set up to provide "a series of benchmarks, which describe what students should know and be able to do at the end of a certain point in their education (i.e. grades 4, 7 and 12)."

If you are on the ball today, you will notice that the high school standards are set up to measure what kids have learned THROUGH THE 12TH GRADE and you will also notice that we are giving the test to our JUNIORS.

It is required by our state that we test our kids before we get them through school.

And I thought we weren't supposed to leave any of them behind.

The second thing I abhor about the test is that is simply memorization. Even a couple kids today mentioned that there was very little thinking involved. You either know it or you don't. Officially, I do not know the questions on the test. However, if a kid asks me if we have ever talked about how to calculate the strength of charges, I'm going to pay attention. I am also going to go to my standards document and notice whether or not there is a little triangle next to that standard.*

If we simply must continue giving tests, I would really like our assessment to measure whether or not kids can think through a problem, not just remember the formula for gravitational acceleration. Yes, I realize these questions are harder to write and harder to grade. I don't care. I think it would be worth it.

Lastly, our test is just set up poorly. We have two science assessment portions: life science and physical science. You would think these are pretty self-explanatory, but it's not.

The life science portion has questions about biology and environmental science.  The physical science portion has chemistry and physics questions. Pretty straight forward, but where does earth science fit in?

The problem arose when someone decided to add in earth science questions, but apparently didn't want to create an additional test. Their solution was to include some earth science questions on the life science test and some earth science questions on the physical science test.

That would be fine if it matched up with how we (and I'm pretty sure most everyone else) has their class schedule set up. I have yet to find a chemistry class that directly addresses any earth science standards. I have yet to find a physics class that directly addresses any earth science standards. And, you guessed it, I have yet to find a biology class that directly addresses any earth science standards.

My kids need three credits to graduate. Most kids don't take more than that (before their junior year, anyway). So that leaves something out.

Biology is required. Got it.

If students take Chemistry then Physics, they have missed Earth. If they take Chemistry and Earth, they miss Physics. Some kids take Anatomy and have missed TWO sections!

The only solution we have really come up with is to add in a separate earth science unit in the middle of biology and chemistry. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.


Oh, and here's one more thing. Our state science test doesn't mean squat. The state requires that we give it to all juniors and we get to see the results. Beyond that, nothing is done with this data. Apparently, lawmakers didn't really foresee the problems and costs associated with districts that were not making AYP in English and Math and ran out of money somewhere along the line. As a result Science and Social Science got pushed back indefinitely. (Notices I am NOT complaining about this.)

Now that I think about it, I can't figure out why it was so stressful for me. I feel bad for my kids because you could see them struggling through the test. The really "good students" especially probably developed ulcers in that hour. I just told them to do the best they could and not panic over it.

I don't really know what the answer is. We are doing it wrong and can't seem to figure out how to fix it.

What does your state do? Is your assessment more efficient? Good lord, is it worse?


*Our document consists of a huge list of standards. If the standard has a little triangle next to it, it is considered a "tested indicator" and fair game on the state assessment.

What Will They Take Home?

I covered for our art teacher during my plan today. I always like going into other classrooms to see how the kids act in a different environment. I found out that kids in the art room behave about the same as kids in my room.

We have three foreign exchange students this year and two of them are in the art class I covered. Both were working on clay masks in a country they have lived in for eight months. My mind wandered off and for some reason I got to thinking about how they would get those clay creations home.

Would they pack them in a suitcase? On a carry on? Maybe they would mail stuff. How much did they bring over in the first place? How do you plan to spend a year away at school halfway across the world?

I don't have any of the girls in my own classes, but they have all been involved in everything they possibly could throughout the year, so I have come to know them a little bit through the track team. I know they are homesick (who wouldn't be?). I know they are all pretty smart and are taking some challenging classes. I know at home they do not have school organized sports and the whole idea of sports competition kind of freaks them out. I know they work harder than a lot of kids that live here.

I haven't had much of a chance to talk to them about the differences in school cultures, so I don't really know how we compare, but from what I gather, aside from the language barrier, they haven't been terribly challenged academically.

So I'm wondering what it is they will take home. When you go home and talk about your experience with your friends, what do you say?

"Those Americans, no wonder they do terrible on international tests!" *


"Those Americans are so lucky to have what they have and they take it for granted!"

"Those Americans, they have it made, short school days AND the school pays for your sports!"

"Those Americans are so lucky, their teacher talks to them like a person!" **

"Those Americans have lots of bad weather!" ***

"Those Americans made me feel like I have lived there all my life!"

I don't really know what they will take home. I hope it is good. I hope their experience has been one that will stay will them for the rest of their lives.

And I hope they look back at their time here as an amazing experience that was filled with everything they expected and more.

Now that I think about it, I truly want that for the kids that live here as well.


*Like I care...
**This is actually paraphrased from one of those kids talking about me.
***I live in Kansas. We have had three tornado warnings this spring, not to mention hail about once a week.
****Got a little heavy handed with the footnotes today, didn't I???

If You Give Your Kids a Scantron...

...they become completely different people.

I did a post-test today as part of ASU's monitoring of the Modeling curriculum. The second the first scan-tron sheet hit the desk, an eerie silence descended on the room.

Kids sat up straight. They faced forward. No one made a sound. No one even asked me any questions.

I have no doubt that this comes from years of filling out bubble sheets for our standardized tests.

While I appreciate the fact that they think a scantron equates to serious business, I can't help but feel a little sad about what we have done to our kids.