Change, The Only Constant

Yesterday, York administered a practice ACT test to all students in the morning. After they were finished around noon, the students went home and the rest of the day was time for teachers to meet, collaborate, and get ahead or caught up on anything we need to. What I want to focus on is one of the meetings we attended. Administration split us up to meet with teachers we don't normally rub shoulders with. The meeting was meant to be a reflective and constructive discussion of how we can engage students more consistently and identify when they are engaged in the class and material. We used a few readings to launch the discussion, the first about the speed at which our society is changing and that we need to teach students how to learn and adapt to change more than to teach a certain set of facts or a rigid skill if they are going to be employable in a society that changes drastically from one decade to another - a fascinating point and topic, if you ask me.

Not everyone found it so fascinating. After reading it, a few teachers just dismissed it immediately, "I don't buy it." Another said, "This isn't a very balanced view, so I question its validity."

This is a perfect example of what is called "confirmation bias," when we tend to trust something that confirms what we already hold to be true and distrust anything that doesn't align with our preconceived ideas.

The conversation quickly devolved into a few of the teachers complaining about how the students don't take ownership of their learning, how they are inattentive and lazy, how parents don't cooperate with teachers, and several other macro level problems with education and society. Meanwhile, the other half of the teachers sat quietly for the most part. I became frustrated because all I saw was this "woe is me" victim mindset when we could have been talking about what we can do to be better teachers. I tried to redirect the conversation with a question back to the reading, but it went nowhere. The entire time, I was balancing two things in my head as I thought about whether I should speak up more: 1) Everything I say will be disregarded because I'm the student teacher in the room and 2) I have nothing to lose - I'm done in two weeks.

At the end, Jill (the other chem teacher in our group and expert on all things Google) spoke up with a great phrase: the only thing constant is change. I think it fell on deaf ears, but it was her last ditch effort to bring reality to the forefront.

The three of us walked away with one question: How can you get someone who is convinced they are doing everything right to become open to the idea of changing what they have been doing for years?

Creating Controversy

We have recently begun our weather unit, which is different from a typical weather unit in science. The curriculum uses a main theme to tie several concepts together. In the weather unit, things like phase changes and the behavior of gases are related to weather, so the other day, we talked about proportions using rain gauges. This is the introductory question:

One class in particular really got into the discussion of this question. It was a little controversial - why do we measure rain in inches, rather than in cups, milliliters, or fluid ounces? Some students took a stand that the bucket would be the best because it would catch the most water. Other students were convinced that the beaker is the best because the sides are straight up and down. Does the size of the rain gauge really matter? After they started going back and forth a bit, they all got really confused and were puzzled by the question. I "made it rain" with a watering can into a beaker and a test tube, showing that they both collect the same height of water, even though one is much larger, because height is proportional to volume.

I was impressed with how much this little bit of controversy or confusion got the students engaged in the class. Some students were literally waving their hands, saying "Pick me!" because they wanted to participate in the discussion. I usually struggle to get more than a few students talking at the beginning of class. Note to self: if they aren't talking, introduce a little controversy.

Staying on Track

York, along with most other larger high schools, places students into one of three tracks. These tracks represent three different ability level groups that the students are placed in when they enter high school. At York, they are called Honors, General, and KI (Key Ideas) in the science department. In theory, tracking is a great way to meet the needs of the students - higher performing students can be grouped together and given more challenging material to push them while lower performing students can be grouped together and given the support they need as a whole class. Practice, though, doesn't always equal theory. There is a ton of research done and being done on tracking and its negative effects (Janmaat, 2011; Welner & Oakes, 1996; Conger, 2005; Trent, 1997). It results in the two groups drifting further and further apart, and usually not because the honors students are achieving so much, but rather because the lower level classes get further and further behind. Now, this doesn't mean we need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Let's consider the alternative: is a class of 1/3 honors level kids that are bored, 1/3 of general kids that are challenged, and 1/3 KI kids that are overwhelmed any better?

All this is background to what I have seen recently in two different students, X, and Y. 

X has been struggling for some time in my general level class. She is in my lowest performing section of general chemistry. I have seen how her peers in that class add to her obstacles rather than helping her overcome them. Her peers in that class are not helpful, because they also often don't know what they're doing and contribute to the distractions. X recently moved from my class to KI, since she just couldn't keep up. I think she certainly could have kept up. She could have put in some extra time with Megan or I and got back on track (no pun intended). As Megan and I talked about her move, though, we came to agree that moving to KI isn't really going to support her any more. The material moves slower, but KI classes are often full of even more distractions, less challenging material, and lower expectations. I think X moved from a bad environment to a worse one, and now she is stuck there for the year and likely will stay as a "KI kid" in the years to come.

Y is a struggling student in my highest performing general chemistry class. She came up as we were talking about X. She's a great example of someone who is benefiting from her peers. Because she just happened to be placed in a section of chemistry with a lot of other hard working, motivated, and intelligent students, she reaps the benefit of that positive environment. Had she landed in one of my other sections, I think she would be struggling even more. Her lab group partners help her understand the material and the atmosphere in the classroom helps to keep her engaged and pushing herself. She is certainly still struggling, but she is better off just because of the people she happens to sit with. 

There are a ton of factors in each student's development and education that are just "the luck of the draw." Sometimes, I begin to take this truth too far, though. Just because there are random forces acting on us, that doesn't mean we are just getting tossed to and fro in the waves of a great ocean. We can swim, too, you know, and we have a responsibility to do so.

I'm Not Your Friend, Pal

So I was grading some lab reports last week when I came across one that sounded familiar. In the lab reports, the students were supposed to mention possible sources for error in their lab - reasons for not getting 100% perfect results. One student mentioned that the hot plate they were using could have broken and blown a circuit. Okay...I guess that's possible, but didn't really happen and it certainly didn't affect her results. I made a comment on it and moved on.

Several reports later, in a different class, I came across another person suggesting the hot plate could have blown a circuit. That's funny. I was curious, so I flipped back to the previous one to take a second look. Throughout the whole document, they make the same mistakes (and I make the same comments) and have the same results, despite being in different classes. They are nearly word-for-word identical, aside from a few word changes here and there. I set them aside for later.

I showed them to Megan and she confirmed that this had to be confronted. When passing back the reports at the beginning of the period, I keep the copycat's. She asks me where hers is, and I just tell her that she'll have to talk to me after class. Class ends and she comes up to the front. I stand there awkwardly silent until everyone leaves the room. I want to build the tension. I want her to hate this experience without being mean. I give her an opportunity to spill her guts: "Is there anything you want to tell me about your lab report?" She plays dumb. "Did you work on it with anyone else?" She admits that her and a friend (the other copycat) were texting while they worked. I explain that the two reports are too similar for me to even know who wrote what. They are too similar for someone to get through a text. I can't tell if its her thoughts or her friends, so I can't grade it the way it is. She offers to redo it, which I tell her is a good idea. By the end of the conversation, she seems to be on the verge of tears. Its difficult to intentionally make a girl cry, but I remind myself that she brought it on herself and that I don't want her to feel as if she gets off easy.

Now I go to the other classroom for the next period, where the other copycat is. She walks into class and immediately begins answering texts on her phone and starts to look a bit uneasy. I do the same thing - pass back all but hers and catch her after class. "Is there anything you want to tell me about your lab report?" She plays dumb, too, but has a little more attitude. "Did you work on it with anyone one else?" "Well, [the first copycat] came over to my house and we worked on it together." Huh. I think what she means is, "I asked my friend to let me copy and paste her lab report," but I didn't push her on the misaligned stories. Maybe I should have. I gave her a similar spiel and she also offered to redo it. I graded them both and gave them half the points they earned.

This episode brought on a conversation with Megan and other teachers about the teacher-student relationship. We're not here to be their friends. There needs to always be a level of distance between teacher and student. I certainly want to be friendly. I made sure to say hi to each copycat the next day. I want to be approachable and inviting to create a classroom culture of cooperation and free exploration, but there are times when I need to bring the hammer down, such as when students cheat. Students need to know that my friendliness does not mean there are low expectations.