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.

A Late Thunderstorm

It is happening again.

Today we whiteboarded the first worksheet over density. We had discussed our lab yesterday and talked about what the relationship was between mass and volume.

The grumblings have started. I didn't teach them about density! That thirty minute discussion we had yesterday? Oh, we were supposed to pay attention to that?

The good news is that this particular rumbling is occurring a whole ten days later than last year! And it wasn't so much a mutiny as it was just general complaining.

So at this rate, in about 17 years, I shouldn't get any grumbling until after school breaks for the summer. I can't wait :)

All in all, this year is going so much better than last year. I think there are several reasons for this, not the least of which is that I feel much more comfortable with the environment I want to create. Last summer my Modeling class ended in July and I rushed in and, well, just rushed in. I hadn't taught "real" chemistry in several years, so was a bit out of practice and at the same time trying to radically change how these kids expected to be taught. This year, I at least am familiar with the material and the process and have been able to go into class with an actual plan. And I think word got out from last year's group and so the kids' expectations were different coming in.

I know it's early in the year, but I still don't have my classroom climate where I would like it to be. We were in the middle of a discussion today when an administrator knocked on my door and had to talk to me RIGHT NOW. I asked the class to continue on and come to a consensus. Um, yeah, that didn't quite happen. The discussion apparently came to a screeching halt and uncontrolled chaos reigned.

I can handle that. There is something about having a specific problem to tackle, even if you aren't sure how.

I'm just glad that this year my kids aren't openly plotting my demise.

Larger Than Life

Isn't it sad that the only time I will ever know who truly loves me will be at my funeral?

We said good-bye today to a man whose full influence can never possibly be measured.

I talked Bud into taking the head track coach position a few years ago and truly had no idea what I was getting into. Bud was a unique mix of old school football coach and teddy bear. He loved his teams and he loved the competition. And he wasn't afraid to let you know either one. His pregame pep talks often ended in tears when he talked about what he believed you could do.

As we waited around the football field for his final farewell, I watched as hundreds of people gathered in memory of a person who had been so important in their lives. It was an amazing site, though upon reflection, not entirely surprising. It often took us half an hour to walk across the parking lot to get to a track meet. The man knew every coach in the state.

It's days like this that remind me of one of the most amazing (and frightening) aspects of this job. All of those eyes that are always watching me. Those kids who sit in the back and never make a sound. Kids who eagerly sign up for any activity you decide to sponsor. All it takes is one inadvertent comment about something totally unrelated. That one comment could lift a child up. Or it could tear him down. And I might never even know it.

I'm not sure I can ever hope to leave anywhere near the legacy that Bud left behind. I was blessed to have been able to coach with and learn from him. I, like so many others, am a better person because he touched my life.

And I have no doubts that he is up there, right now, teaching the angels to play football.

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.

Teacher Tip #5

If something like Google Earth or Stellarium is cool enough to use in your classroom, it is totally worth thirty minutes or so to let the kids play around before getting down to business.

My First Day of School and That Pesky Exploding Can

Okay, so my first day of school was over a week ago. If this is how my year is going to go, I should just start hibernating now!

There has been a lot of discussion about this on every listserve you can find about what to do on the first day of school. Everyone is pretty much in agreement that reading through a syllabus is a great way to immediately cause disinterest in your class. The Marshmallow Challenge seems to be a popular choice with the physics crowd, and to be honest, I really want to try that in my classes some day. I teach Chemistry, so I kind of want to keep in with a chemistry theme and, of course, the question on every teenager's lips seems to be "when are we going to blow something up". The Modeling has an Exploding Can Demo set as the first activity to do with the kids and there has been some discussion about that activity as well. Some teachers cannot do this because they do not have access to natural gas. Some like to go over their class rules on the first day (why, why, why??). And some don't like the activity because students have a hard time explaining what is happening.

I love this demo and find that the first day of school is the perfect time to do it. My principal even came in to do a short evaluation on the first day this year (seriously???) and was pretty surprised that we were already in the lab causing a ruckus.

It's a simple demo that catches kids off guard, because about the time everyone stops paying attention and chatting about their summer, the thing explodes. I had one kid this year who actually dove under the lab table to take cover. He may never live that one down.

To specifically address those teacher who don't want to use the demo because kids can't explain it, you are absolutely correct. That is the whole idea. It's OKAY not to be able to explain something. If those kids could perfectly explain every action of every particle inside that can right now, then for goodness sake, send them to the counselor to get into a more advanced class. The whole point of a chemistry class, after all, is to learn how matter interacts with other matter.

This demonstration actually serves several purposes for me. First, most kids have reformatted over the summer and need to get some of those brain gears moving. Second, we come back to this demo several times throughout the year. After talking about reactions, for example, we go back to page 1 in our lab book and re-describe what we think those particles were doing inside the can. And finally, after the demo, the groups draw their particle representations of what they think happened and the next day we whiteboard those ideas. This is where I set up my norms for our whiteboarding sessions.

I try to pick kids that I have worked with in the past or who know a little bit about me and have them be the presenter for their group.

And then I grab my bag of chips. A snack size bag with just a few chips is perfect for this. While the group is presenting, I munch on chips. Doritos work well because they are really loud and kind of messy. I create a pretty decent distraction by crumpling up the bag and stuffing it into these mysterious little compartments in my desks. A couple swigs from my pop bottle (shake it up to get a nice loud escape of gas) and it goes flying across the room into the trash can. Usually by now, kids have noticed. I kind of look around the room, "oh, was that inappropriate?" My apologies. I then have the group make a note on the board.

The next group is a little nervous now, so I leave them alone.

Third time's a charm, so I get out my phone. I have it set to make the beeping sounds when you type so kids know what I'm doing. Of course I "try" to hide it like my students do, but pretty soon, they start to notice. "Oh, was that inappropriate as well?" Please make a note.

Now the last one is kind of tricky. I have to have someone presenting that knows me pretty well or I let them know ahead of time what I'm going to do. I don't want anyone in tears on the first day. After they present, I pretty much argue that my answer is the correct one and their group is just plain wrong. I usually have a hard time keeping a straight face for this one.

So now we have three things on the board that we as a group have more or less decided are inappropriate for the setting. They then get to suggest any other behaviors that might best be left at the door. We talk about how important the whiteboard sessions are when it comes to getting information. We talk about the difference between hearing and listening. We talk about respect. We talk about general polite behavior.

These two days are a pretty good introduction to the class as well as the general setup of the modeling classroom. The kids get to experience what the rest of the year is like and possibly more importantly, do NOT get the answers on the first day. This can be uncomfortable for a lot of kids and some do not handle it well.* I have actually had kids ask me for a textbook so they can look up the right answer. Good luck with that.

Learning in this room isn't about getting the right answer RIGHT NOW. It is about having to discover the right answer in another place and time and connecting it back to what you did on the first day. If I can get you to do that, then I have done my job and can sleep well at night.

Have a great year!


*From some of the discussion, some of the teachers do not handle it well. Get over it. Nobody knows it all. And besides, if all you do is tell kids the correct answer, you are taking all the fun out of science class!

A Letter to My Colleagues

Quick, off the top of your head, why did you become a science teacher?

Now, I'm not talking about the whole, "I wanted to make a difference in a child's life" type* of answer.

I want to know why you became a SCIENCE teacher?

Was it because of the textbooks? Because you like to hear how smart you sound when you lecture? Let me guess, you like nice, neat, orderly rows of chairs, right? Good Lord, tell me it isn't because of the math....

I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that your answer has something to do with the fact that SCIENCE IS JUST FREAKING AWESOME!!! You get to build things, discover things, manipulate things, and, yes, every once in awhile, you get to blow things up.

THAT'S why we went into science, am I right?

So how the hell did we end up spending all this time writing on a chalkboard (or horror of horrors pointing at a powerpoint) and having to "find time to do a lab"?

We can blame the standards. We can blame the textbooks. But the fact remains that we have gotten away from what science truly is. It's mostly the way I was taught, both in high school and college. It's the way I knew, so it was the way I stuck with. And then, one bright shiny day, a little gargoyle crept in and whispered in my ear, "pssst...you're doing it wrong."

And suddenly, last summer, I found my way out of the abyss. I accidentally took a Modeling workshop and completely changed the way I teach my kids.

Modeling is not a set of materials that you use in your classroom. I refer to it a lot as a curriculum, but it really isn't that, either. It is a WAY of teaching, a METHOD of getting students to use their own data and observations to construct their own knowledge of the world around them.

Did you get that? Those kids OWN their learning. And that's pretty powerful.

You can describe Modeling with nearly every past and present education buzzword you can think of: cooperative learning, inquiry, student-centered, constructivism, differentiation, critical thinking, problem solving, formative assessment. The list goes on, but it doesn't need to. I have seen what it can do in a classroom, and I don't need any edujargon to convince me.

I have taught both ways to kids on every end of the learning spectrum, and I can say with certainty, that for me, this is the way to go. I have seen brilliant kids take off and run with it, reveling in the challenges the class presents. I have also seen lower kids finally have the success in school that they never would have experienced in a traditional classroom. Modeling can reach them all.

Now, I am not going to claim that there is absolutely no other method that is effective, but I do know that Modeling has been extensively researched and tested in the classroom since the early 1990s. I have met many other teachers who have had the training and have yet to hear one speak negatively about it. This is not to say that it is an easy way to teach. This is one of the most challenging things I have ever tried in my classroom but it has also been one of the most rewarding.

Oh, and have you heard of the Common Core? How about the Conceptual Framework? These documents are soon going to shape what happens in your classroom. I have sat in on sessions on both of these, and you know what the big question that is on everyone's mind? How am I going to learn how to teach this way?

Get thee to a Modeling class, that's how.

Try it, because really, what do you have to lose? It'll put you out of your comfort zone, but that's what needs to happen if you want to change. I have heard one story (undocumented and purely anecdotal) about a teacher (one) who has gone through the training not fallen in love with it. Want to know my first (undiplomatic) reaction?

Go teach math.**


*Don't get me wrong - that's an excellent reason!

**KIDDING! KIDDING! Math teachers don't hate me. In fact, want to truly integrate math and science? Go to a Modeling workshop. That's where I truly learned about the quadratic equation.


P.S. This was written as an assignment for my Modeling workshop as a way to convince a colleague to give Modeling a chance.