Twitter post this morning from @Education Week: At 'Exemplary' Dallas School, 3rd-graders learned only math and reading http://t.co/9yYINgnt
Very short synopsis: 3rd graders only learned math and reading - scored above proficiency on state tests. School found to be exemplary. Reported grades for all other subjects (science, social studies, music, art, etc.) were fabricated on report cards. Principal on administrative leave during investigation.
As I read this article (or what I could read of it, since I don't subscribe to the site, my version was shortened), here were the questions going through my head:
1. Testing is making us so crazy, we're willing to cheat to get the results. If we do that as adults and professionals, why do we lamblast our students when they're backed into a corner and feel they need to do the same? What is wrong with our grading systems that people feel the need to cheat?
2. Does it really take an all day, all year focus on just math and reading to pass these tests - to make us "exemplary"? How are we expected to get students to proficiency when we get 41 minutes per subject a day for 180 days? Is it the testing or the learning methods? What REALLY is the root cause here?
3. Why is the left hand not talking to the right? Why can't we figure this out? Why can't we really know if we're proficient in something?
4. WHO gets final say on learning and proficiency? The student? The parents? The teachers? The government? The employer?
Things that make you go 'hmmm', 'huh' and 'what the hell is going on here'?
Monday, November 21, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Day 20: Describe yourself during your first year of teaching and discuss how you've grown.
I almost laughed out loud when I read the title of this blog day. I have to say that I am so thankful that I was 40 years old when I experienced my first year of teaching instead of 23 when I was just fresh out of college and student teaching. I don't think I would have survived if I started at 23. Honestly...
I've never been in a job where you are expected to know (almost) everything there is to know about the job in the first year. Welcome to teaching.
My first year can be summed up in one word...survival. Thank goodness the State of Iowa requires first/second year teachers to have a mentor. I think I would have survived my first year without a mentor, but because of my mentor, I had a very successful first year.
My first year of teaching, I was very lucky to have had 1st period as my plan period. My mentor was a science teacher (like me) and so I would go to his room, watch him teach the lesson for that day, write down key notes and then go back to my room and teach it exactly how I had watched him teach it.
Over the course of the year, of course, I found my own style and started building my confidence and in my second year, I found my voice and started contributing to curriculum and lesson changes. I also started working with grading changes. My third year, I found that I was leading our PLCs, being more vocal on curricular changes and being a part of district curriculum meetings. During that third year, I went back to school myself and added an endorsement.
For my fourth year, I switched curricular areas and restructured the curriculum based on expert research from Wormeli, O'Connor and the DuFours. I started mentoring a first year teacher (science) and volunteered for more leadership committes in my building. I continued working on yet another endorsement.
I am currently in my fifth year of teaching - still mentoring, still contributing to curriculum and I am co-coaching the Advisory program in our building.
The growth has been amazing - the found confidence, the new experiences and the new learnings right along side my students. I can't wait to see what the next five years will bring!
I've never been in a job where you are expected to know (almost) everything there is to know about the job in the first year. Welcome to teaching.
My first year can be summed up in one word...survival. Thank goodness the State of Iowa requires first/second year teachers to have a mentor. I think I would have survived my first year without a mentor, but because of my mentor, I had a very successful first year.
My first year of teaching, I was very lucky to have had 1st period as my plan period. My mentor was a science teacher (like me) and so I would go to his room, watch him teach the lesson for that day, write down key notes and then go back to my room and teach it exactly how I had watched him teach it.
Over the course of the year, of course, I found my own style and started building my confidence and in my second year, I found my voice and started contributing to curriculum and lesson changes. I also started working with grading changes. My third year, I found that I was leading our PLCs, being more vocal on curricular changes and being a part of district curriculum meetings. During that third year, I went back to school myself and added an endorsement.
For my fourth year, I switched curricular areas and restructured the curriculum based on expert research from Wormeli, O'Connor and the DuFours. I started mentoring a first year teacher (science) and volunteered for more leadership committes in my building. I continued working on yet another endorsement.
I am currently in my fifth year of teaching - still mentoring, still contributing to curriculum and I am co-coaching the Advisory program in our building.
The growth has been amazing - the found confidence, the new experiences and the new learnings right along side my students. I can't wait to see what the next five years will bring!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Just a Spoonful of Sugar Helps the Grief Go Down...
You know, people told me that I would have moments of sadness about my dad. I believed them, but I don't know when I was expecting those moments would happen.
Well, ok, I thought that it would be when I looked at a picture of him or when a particular holiday or birthday was approaching - something very pointed and sentimental. I'm finding this is not the case. In fact, when those pointed, sentimental opportunities come along and I find myself saying to myself, "I wish Dad was here - or he's missing this event" only to be reminded that he's probably not - just watching from a different dimension, and I find that I am not sad at all, much to my amazement.
Grief hits when I least expect it to from very unsentimental sources - or so I think and it hits me fast and hard. Here is a classic example that just happened a couple of days ago:
I'm folding laundry in the bedroom and channel-surfing to find something to watch while I fold. I land on the movie "Mary Poppins" because that's what you do when there's nothing else on TV. (Besides I love the movie.) Anyway, all in an instant, I'm taken back to when I was 6 or 7 years old and Dad took me to the Plaza Theater in Cedar Rapids to see "Mary Poppins" for the first time (it had been re-released in theaters). I remember after the first showing of the movie I begged him to sit through the second showing (back when you could do that...) and he said that was ok. Granted, he slept through the second one! I remember being so excited and the movie was so AWESOME and we got to see it twice! The memory still so vivid 39 years later and I realized in that instant that I hadn't thought about it in years.
All of this took place in about a second. And as soon as I remembered, the tears flowed and continued to roll as I continued to fold. And I couldn't turn the movie because I didn't want to lose the memory and just when the movie was over and the channel was turned, the tears and the grief vanished.
That's the crazy thing about grief - it's here in a moment and then it's gone. It's like popping through a chalk painting or snapping your fingers or a change in the wind.
Well, ok, I thought that it would be when I looked at a picture of him or when a particular holiday or birthday was approaching - something very pointed and sentimental. I'm finding this is not the case. In fact, when those pointed, sentimental opportunities come along and I find myself saying to myself, "I wish Dad was here - or he's missing this event" only to be reminded that he's probably not - just watching from a different dimension, and I find that I am not sad at all, much to my amazement.
Grief hits when I least expect it to from very unsentimental sources - or so I think and it hits me fast and hard. Here is a classic example that just happened a couple of days ago:
I'm folding laundry in the bedroom and channel-surfing to find something to watch while I fold. I land on the movie "Mary Poppins" because that's what you do when there's nothing else on TV. (Besides I love the movie.) Anyway, all in an instant, I'm taken back to when I was 6 or 7 years old and Dad took me to the Plaza Theater in Cedar Rapids to see "Mary Poppins" for the first time (it had been re-released in theaters). I remember after the first showing of the movie I begged him to sit through the second showing (back when you could do that...) and he said that was ok. Granted, he slept through the second one! I remember being so excited and the movie was so AWESOME and we got to see it twice! The memory still so vivid 39 years later and I realized in that instant that I hadn't thought about it in years.
All of this took place in about a second. And as soon as I remembered, the tears flowed and continued to roll as I continued to fold. And I couldn't turn the movie because I didn't want to lose the memory and just when the movie was over and the channel was turned, the tears and the grief vanished.
That's the crazy thing about grief - it's here in a moment and then it's gone. It's like popping through a chalk painting or snapping your fingers or a change in the wind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)