While it's good that teachers take workshops and courses, it doesn't always provide that real "student" feeling. Well this summer I got it, plus some, when I relived what are probably the basic concerns students have when the first days of school roll around.

* Does the teacher like me?

This was probably the biggest surprise of all, something I thought I was long past, but this question was the heart of the whole endeavour. I've always made an effort to connect with all of my students, but I think I'm going to try harder now.

* Does the teacher understand who I am and what my circumstances are?

My next worry was that the teacher wouldn't understand that, although I'm a quiet person, I was completely engaged in what we were doing and was putting in a full effort. Honestly, whenever I see the words "Class participation" on a syllabus, a little part of me dies. On the teacher side of things, I know that when a student is outgoing it seems to make it easier for me to assess what they know; I also know that everyone is different and part of my job is to make sure they feel comfortable to contribute in various ways.

* Do I belong in this group?

It's hard to walk into a room and see that everyone is apparently already sitting with their friends and happily engaged in conversations. This reminded me of the importance of ice-breaker activities, to give students openings for finding out what they have in common with people they don't yet know.

* Do I understand anything about this subject/topic?

I hadn't really considered the importance of establishing connections while introducing a new topic until I took a course this summer with a prof who just barrelled in and started talking about her academic passions. Her enthusiasm was engaging, but I didn't have the background to follow what she was talking about. I felt like an idiot for several days. I hung in there, but I can understand why someone would give up.

* Is it okay if I need help? How can I get help?

Fortunately, in the above situation, my enthusiastic prof was also a sensitive one, and she made an effort to meet with each of us individually to see how we were doing and discuss what we might want to do for projects. That helped to reduce my stress level immensely. 

September flies by, and there have been times I've wondered if I'm not getting to the content fast enough. This summer I relearned that without connection and safety you may not be able to even reach the content.

Posted by msarmstrong at 9:54 AM PDT

Updated: Thursday, 20 August 2009 10:00 AM PDT

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The number one sign that I've been on holidays is not that I'm less irritable. It's not that I no longer have dark bags under my eyes, or that I have actually some idea of what's going on in the news.

No. The number one sign that I've been on holidays is that I'm eating at a normal speed again.

Lunch period during a regular school day is far too short. Taking into account the time it takes to dismiss the kids, to do the photocopying that I forgot to do during my prep period, to track down my teaching partner to ask a couple of questions, and to set up for whatever I'm teaching after lunch, I have maybe 7 minutes to heat, eat, and clean up after my lunch.

And boy can I eat fast! Even piping hot food doesn't burn the roof of my mouth, it's into my stomach so quickly. I don't even need to brush my teeth afterwards. Who has time to chew?

Posted by msarmstrong at 7:42 PM PST

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Last summer I was visiting with a friend from my high school days who has also gone on to become a teacher in another province. It was one of those situations when I was talking about disliking marking, and suddenly realised that what I was saying was coming across more as a whine about work than as a thoughtfully worded criticism of our current system of assessment and evaluation.

I promptly shut up (no doubt he was thankful!) and have been thinking about the matter ever since.

So why do I hate writing report cards?

The basic premise of our report cards is problematic because it is based on a deficit system*. What we do is we compare our students to some idealized (and perhaps imaginary) standard, then look for how they fail to match it, and then use that as a justification for why, for example, a particular student "only" gets a B.

We can then try to smooth the grade over with all kinds of anecdotal comments, but as anyone can testify who has watched a student read their own report card, or who has, as a parent, read the report card of their own child, it's the grade that registers first. "Only" a B - then check the comments to see if there's any explanation as to why it isn't an A.

In recent years, the experts in my province's ministry of education (and I'm sure they're taking their cue from North American-wide trends) have attempted to allay the concerns of some educators by assuring us that our assessment/evaluation is merely a "snapshot of what the student can do."

That in itself is a problem. Why are we using a snapshot to describe a complex and emergent situation? And why must it be framed as a negative rather than as a positive?

(* This is from either William Pinar or Ted Aoki but I can't find the quote right now)

Posted by msarmstrong at 7:47 PM PST

Updated: Saturday, 3 January 2009 7:43 PM PST

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In middle school it seems inevitable that you'll end up teaching something for which you're not "trained." Most recently for me, that's been home ec, and it's funny how the same principles of teaching practice appear despite the nature of the subject matter.

Take, for instance, a cupcake lab back in October (revised to a cake lab partway through, for reasons that will be clear in just a moment):

 Be Prepared

- just because the first two cupcake pans out of the teacher supply cupboard are for regular sized cupcakes, don't assume they all are (and this is why we ended up switching to cake pans 1/2 way through the lab);

- just because one oven works, don't assume all of them do or that you'll be able to get the door of one of them to even open (one of our custodians is still trying to fix that one for me. He also gives me advice on fixing sewing machines);

- just because the oven works, and is set to 350 degrees, don't assume that the oven will actually reach that temperature

We Learn Through Experience

- just because the recipe says something, and you've pointed this out to the kids, don't assume that anyone read it or listened;

- just because the salt and sugar containers are clearly labelled, and you've pointed this out, don't assume that anyone read the labels or listened;

- just because the class has gone through two classes of how to use measuring equipment accurately, don't assume anyone can. Heck, teaspoon, tablespoon, they all begin with T don't they?

Our cake lab results? Five of lab groups' cakes were edible - one was actually good, the rest were varying degrees of okay. The sixth cake, and I use that term loosely, was a disaster of epic proportions. Everything that could go wrong did, including the temperature problems, the mismeasurements, and the all important salt/sugar switch. It was a caved-in, semi-soupy mess. Give them credit though - the kids in the group bravely tried to eat their results.

And then there was the pancake lab fiasco. But I'll save that for another time...

Posted by msarmstrong at 2:09 PM PST

Updated: Sunday, 28 December 2008 5:02 PM PST

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Each September I give my students a general survey to fill out, and two of the questions I ask them are about what subjects did they like most and least the previous year and describe why.

Responses vary. Being middle school students, it's never any surprise that they enjoy the Explorations subjects (music, physical education, art, etc), and my new students are no exception. But this year what is a surprise is how many students wrote down math as their least liked subject.

There are always a few students each year who indicate that they didn't enjoy math, but this year almost half the students in both of my core classes wrote it down. Half! Reasons included:

- I didn't really get it

- It was hard

- I didn't get a very good grade

- I'm not good at it

This past week I've been doing some exploration type activities, to see what kinds of patterns they find, what sort of things they notice, circulating and chatting with them as they work, having class discussions where they can volunteer to go up to the whiteboard or the overhead projector and explain their ideas. As the week went on, there were more and more volunteers.

And the thing is, they are good at it, they do get it.

This dichotomy between their perception of their abilities and the reality of what they can do just breaks my heart.

Every year I start off with the goal of having math classes where all students realise that math is theirs, that it's interesting and enjoyable. Every year I get worn down at some point (by external factors that perhaps I'll describe at another time) and find myself being more, uh, let's say "traditional" in my approach. Sometimes I rebound, sometimes I don't.

May this be the year that I make it all the way til the end of June.

Posted by msarmstrong at 12:32 PM PDT

Updated: Saturday, 13 September 2008 12:33 PM PDT

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Yesterday was my official first day of vacation, having finished up with summer school on Friday. In the spirit of there finally being nothing I _had_ to plan/grade/do, I decided to go wander around the local mall. And what was the theme of all the store displays? "Back to School."

At least it wasn't Christmas stuff...

Posted by msarmstrong at 10:51 AM PDT

Updated: Sunday, 3 August 2008 10:56 AM PDT

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Home Ec teachers end up doing a lot of laundry.

Posted by msarmstrong at 10:40 AM PDT

Updated: Sunday, 3 August 2008 10:57 AM PDT

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As the end of a school year approaches, sometimes you can look back and see a few themes. And one I've been thinking of lately is that of absence, because there are a lot of different ways a student can be absent.

Every year we lose some international students for chunks of time. Our school year doesn't quite align with the school calendar in their home country, so they may arrive in September a couple of weeks late, or take three weeks for their Christmas vacation instead of two.  And this year a couple of our students missed an entire month in second term, spending it in limbo as they waited to hear if they and their families would be accepted as landed immigrants (they were).

And every year some parents pull their kids out for a week or two of school to go on a family vacation. Part of me understands why - it might be the only time both parents can get time off to go to Disneyland, and shouldn't they do it now before their child gets into high school and can't take the time off? The other part of me grumbles because sometimes  the students can't afford to miss the time academically, and I end up working harder than they do trying to get them caught up. Unfortunately, some Gr 8 students are still at a developmental level where they view a poor performance on a test as "I'm stupid" rather than "I missed 2 weeks of school, didn't do the homework my parents requested my teacher prepare for me, and haven't gone in for extra help." Then they shut down. So off I go, chasing them to try to prevent this.

This year, there seem to be a large number of students who miss a day of school every week or two, which adds up over time. Sometimes it's because they have to take care of younger siblings while their parent works. Occasionally, I've been surprised to find, it's simply because the parent wants company! On my bad days this leaves me wondering what kind of value our society places on education. 

Of course, there are absences due to behaviour issues (suspensions), and our team has had more than our fair share of those this year.

But what I find saddest of all, are the students who miss school due to emotional issues. Family problems, depression, anxiety, all these problems bubbling under what on the surface appears to be an empty desk. And on the days that they are physically there, they aren't really present at all.

How do you teach the student who is not there? How do you reach the student who is not there? How do you let them know that this too will pass?

Posted by msarmstrong at 10:21 PM PDT

Updated: Tuesday, 3 June 2008 10:26 PM PDT

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It's my fifth year at my school and I'm noticing once again that the longer you stay at a school the more unofficial responsibilities end up in your lap.

For instance, I'm in the only science lab room to have survived the make-over from junior high to middle school back in the mid-90's, so I've inherited the job as guardian of the school's science equipment. Usually this means my class and I will be in the middle of a lesson when two tiny grade 6 students will show up at the door to inform me that their teacher needs 8 beakers (but they don't know what size), three thermometers, and something else their teacher couldn't remember the name of but he drew a picture of it for me, look. Fortunately my class, being typical grade 8 students, looove to talk to each other, and will happily occupy themselves doing so while I dig out whatever it is that the tiny grade 6s are after.

As well, and much to my surprise, this being my second year teaching grade 8 home ec (which in itself is enough of a shock. Ever eaten anything I've cooked? Well, there's a good reason for that) I find myself as one of the two "senior" home ec teachers and in charge of the sewing program (Ever seen anything I've sewed? Well, there's a good reason for that). Consequently, I now know a lot more about fixing aged sewing machines than I used to. My training as a teacher has really come in handy for this because I am able to refrain from cursing even when I've managed to jam a sewing needle behind one of my finger nails. This is why some of the kids not only believe that I live at the school, but that I don't know any swear words either.

This has got me thinking about the other "unofficial" duties that are somehow magically carried out throughout the school year - the powerpoint presentations about student activities that are shown at various assemblies, the art displays that brighten up our hallways and ceilings, the strange games the students "compete" in during spirit assemblies, the miraculously clean staff room (seriously, if you could see the way we carry on in there you'd agree), the chocolate treats that appear in our mailboxes during report card time. I'll bet none of the people responsible for these things know how to swear either...

Posted by msarmstrong at 2:50 PM PST

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When it's report card time (and, since I'm teaching summer school, it actually is right now) I start to reminisce about teaching swimming, and how it actually made more sense than teaching school does.

* The purpose of the lessons was clear - to learn to swim. There was no blaming the teacher for fostering the breakdown of society because she hadn't taught such-and-such. We were all there to swim.

* Students were in classes according to their level. When they had mastered the group of required skills then they moved up to the next level. Otherwise, they stayed in the same level where they got the practice they needed until they were ready.

* Report cards were checklists of skills and then one anecdotal comment - "It's been fun teaching you. Have a darn swell summer!"

Oh, who am I kidding? Even as I type this I know I'm romanticizing. Sure the skills were set out,  but what signified a "pass" certainly varied depending on the instructor. I remember, shamefully, that for a chunk of my career I was far too lenient about what constituted a pass because I wanted the kids to feel good about what they'd accomplished (that damn symbol of earning a badge) and that some of my students really struggled in the next level because they really weren't ready to be there. That was a difficult lesson for me to learn.

Then I moved to another city, and on to another pool where I encountered my polar opposite - instructors who prided themselves on being tough on the kids and imposed their own higher standards that bore no relation to the Red Cross guidelines. Swimming as boot camp. It wasn't much fun teaching there at times - those instructors kept complaining about me - but I stood my ground and my supervisors ended up siding with me.

As for why we were there, well it was more than just swimming. It was about having fun, and building confidence, and fitness, and better judgement, and making friends, and being creative too.

Why am I semi-pining then? When I write report cards, I worry about the students who haven't "got it" yet - what is it that they need that's still missing, what can I do to help them? And, even with smaller classes, even with a shorter curriculum, it all comes down to time.

If I could just sit with each of them, one-on-one, a little bit longer, maybe I could do a little bit more to get them comfortable in the water, and swimming on their own. More time is what makes sense.

Posted by msarmstrong at 11:26 PM PDT

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