For some reason, I am having more meetings this fall than ever in my life. Faculty meetings, trainings, updates, inputs, outdates, professional developments up the wazoo.

Almost all these meetings are done LOOOOONG form: reading every word on the agenda or PowerPoint, explanations, explanations.

These are meetings for teachers, smart people who have to constantly shift and change throughout the day, accomodating all sorts of personalities, interruptions, learning styles, and so many permutations that we could be considered to be shapeshifters or consummate actors.

Also we know how to read: as in agendas and PowerPoints. We don’t need to be read to.

How smart are we? I did a presentation at our biggest elementary school in the district as part of my (volunteer) job as district arts coordinator. Our state arts office has come up with a charming and brilliant idea called Ten Minute Transitions, little arts lessons to add to the day without adding stress. The lessons are incremental, each day building on the former one, each week in the eight-week sequence building on the former one. The first segment is dance. Now one might think that twenty-five elementary teachers would feel a little self-conscious about learning and trying on a new dance curriculum, but these guys were relaxed and wonderful.

They were also smart. I handed them copies of the curriculum long-form (with content linked to standards) and short-form (cues, basically). I explained–a little. We tried out some of the lessons, just a few. They thumbed through the little lessons and understood.

I was done in twenty minutes. They are teachers, after all: smart, quick, responsive, adaptable.

Wish all our meetings could assume the same.

I was reading a blog post about competition in education and society that my husband forwarded to me, and a question one of the commenters posted echoed one of the principles that drives me most these days:

“What would education look like if we (as in Red Cross Swimming lessons) only competed against ourselves and encouraged co-operation for getting ahead?”

Why is it that to win, someone else must lose?  Certainly norm referenced tests mirror that belief as well as a host of other practices like grading on a curve.  And I’m not talking about everyone being “winners” if they haven’t earned it; this is no fuzzy, kum-by-ya view of the world where kids can suck air and we say, “Good job!”  No.  Rather, we recognize that everyone brings their own strengths and weaknesses to the table, set appropriate personal levels of challenge, and celebrate each person’s achievement.  Just because someone is further down the path than I am does not devalue my own achievements, and I may well be further along than they are in other areas.

I try to do this in my classroom.  As much as I hate grades, I have to assign them, and so my kids earn grades according to individual goals we set and what I observe during the process.  After the kids adapt to the can’t hoop-jump style of my classroom, they actually hook in and push a lot farther and deeper in their learning than kids did when I had a more traditional grading system.

So, how would things be different if we focused on individuals rather than competition?

We are entering into one of the most draining times of the year:  holiday season.  We’re coming off of the opening of the school year with it’s long stretch of no breaks and entering into a time period that not only requires our focus at work but a considerable number of family and personal obligations.  It can be stressful.

I liken moving into November to the whitewater rafting trip we take with our eighth graders at the end of the school year.  On one of our legs we enter what’s known as the gorge which is where all the Class III rapids begin.  There’s no turning back, no way out but through the intense paddling and maneuvering ahead, and while it’s fun, at the end of it all we want nothing more than to collapse in a heap and take a long nap.

I finally accepted I couldn’t be a superhero, that there was no way I could survive if I didn’t take care of myself.  Therefore I make an extra effort to take care of myself.  I take long baths with a good book, make sure I drink enough water, and try to eat plenty of fruits and vegetables.  When I can I schedule a service like a hair cut or a massage; my husband already knows that a spa gift certificate is high on my list for the holidays.  Finally, I don’t participate in anything that feels like a “have to.”  If I am tired and cranky, I am no good to anyone, so I have learned to say no when I need to take a time out.

What is your plan to take care of yourself this holiday season?  Write it down and post it somewhere you see every day, then put it into action.  I promise the next three months will be more pleasant if you do so!

I had the experience earlier this month when a kid looked at me and asked, “What do you mean, revise?  Do you mean fix the spelling?”  I was dumbfounded.  After all, I know what and how my colleagues teach, and I know they talk about revision.  And yet, I had the clear sense that most of my kids really did not understand what revision looked like in practice.

I finally realized no one had connected the dots for them or led them through how we reenter our drafts.  They’d had craft lessons, they knew what good writing looked like, but no one had ever showed them how to take those ideas and rework drafts based on those criteria.

In response, I have been doing craft lessons that I label as revision strategies and used my own and students’ writing as models for how we could reenter and revise a draft based on that information.  Not all the light bulbs have clicked on yet, but it’s considerably brighter in the classroom than it was just a few weeks ago.

It’s not enough for us to tell kids what to do, we have the hand hold and show them the process in action.  But only if we want them to get it.

All English teachers have experienced the frustration that comes along with peer conferencing.  Either kids veer off task and socialize, or they make comments like, “Your piece is good,” or, “I liked it!”  Getting kids to have deep conversations about writing seems elusive, and more than one of us has wondered whether it’s worth our time.

I mean, we do a mini-lesson or two about conferencing, right?  We put together sheets to fill out, protocols to follow, questions to answer, so what is the problem?

The problem is they really don’t get it, and when we get frustrated with them, they don’t understand what our problem is.  Afterall, they’re following the steps we laid out, so what’s the issue?

I finally got wise and decided that if I believed in this strategy as a way for kids to be analytical about writing, then I had to devote a good chunk of time to teaching, practicing and modeling the process.

Although my kids may peer conference at any point they wish, I require all of them to participate in a similar structure I call group critique with their rough drafts before working on a final copy.  Kids assemble in groups of four or five and help each other analyze their drafts.  The process is as follows:

1.  The author passes out copies of his/her draft and tells the group what specific feedback s/he would like as well as any background information on the piece.

2.  The author reads the piece aloud, and participants follow along and make notes.

3.  The group discusses the following:

• What’s working in the piece?  What are the strengths?
• What specific advice does the group have regarding the feedback the author requested?
• What are the lingering questions or other observations the group has to share with the author?

Now, the process alone doesn’t create the magic, it’s only the vehicle.  What allows these conversations to become rich and successful is the amount of time I devote to our practice and modeling of the process as well as my early facilitation of the groups to help guide the conversation.  Eventually kids catch on, and I become more of an observer of their process than director.

Right now we’re taking one day a week to practice this strategy with student writing pieces I’ve collected over the years.  In roughly 15-minutes, we can go through the process and have amazing conversations about writing.  I see the lightbulbs turning on, and I know that our next round of group critiques will run even more smoothly.

The widespread incident of neighborhood violence and drug usage in America’s inner cities has had and continues to have a devastating impact on her urban schools.  There’s no denying it.  The district in which I work is the nation’s 18th largest district.  Our city has the state’s highest crime rate and the neighborhood in our city with the highest crime rate includes a middle school in which I was recently stationed for 6 intensive weeks as part of LEA Improvement (since our entire district of 180 schools is currently in Corrective Action, as per NCLB legislation).  That is all to say, I get to see the impact of neighborhood crime, violence, and drug use first hand.

But these are all corollary to a more fundamental problem: poverty.  The number of children in the US living in poverty – both urban and rural poverty -  is staggering.  The graph below depicts America’s children living in as compare to the poverty rate of other  countries.

How can the most economically advantaged country in the world permit so many economically disadvantaged children?
I first saw this graph as I prepared a workshop for teachers on Urban Education.  The more I researched this topic, and learned about the incident of students living in poverty, the more I became outraged.  How could this state of affairs have happened in our America?
I don’t have a solution – there is no quick and easy solution.  But as a citizen and especially as an educator who is routinely entrenched in the mess it has caused, I am outraged and think every citizen should be likewise.

The impact of poverty trumps the impact of drugs, crime, and violence.  Indeed, the latter follow quite predictably from the former.  dven.

Bill Belichik is a great football coach. Would anyone have ever known it based on his record when he was at Cleveland? Terry Francona won back to back World Series after he was shoved out of Philadelphia. What enables these great coaches to be successful in one location and fail miserably at another?

The same question can be asked about schools. After having seen so many promising reforms fall short, one has to ask, is there a common denominator found in schools that can make reforms work in all locations?

The answer is no. Schools, like teams, are unique. They are unique due to differing socio-economic factors, school size, and they are unique due to the amount of English Language Learners at each location. Schools are unique because people are unique. The students and teachers in each school, indeed in each classroom, have their own chemistry.

The common denominator and the key to successful school reform is recognizing uniqueness and treating all students and staff respectfully.

I read three items this week offering testimony that recognizing this and acting on it are the keys to improving individual schools. Karen Chenowith of Education Trust writes schools that don’t make excuses, that practice flexibility to do what works, succeed. She cites schools that listened to teachers working with administrators. Chenowith tells how they incorporated programs to address the needs of students in a particular school, and reports this common denominator led to remarkable gains on standardized tests. These programs were worked in despite the fact they were not approved aspects of the standardized core curriculum.

The second article by Christopher Doyle cites evidence that children today feel their world as adults will be less free than mine (and his) was. Children cite the amount of standardized tests they must take and increased homework as evidence they will have less freedom. Yong Zhao, who grew up in China and is now a professor at Michigan State University, writes how this loss freedom will likely be translated into a loss of the American spirit, the belief in the individual. He points out that China, South Korea and other countries we are trying to emulate because they have higher test scores, are seeking ways to emulate America’s free spirit, innovation, and belief in individuality. While we are increasing standardization, they are decreasing it. While we remove autonomy, the only reform proven to work, they are experimenting with ways to increase autonomy and flexibility.

Our national school reformers may have been successful at some previous job. But just like coaches, that doesn’t mean their success is transferable. Jimmy Johnson led to the Cowboys from 1-15 to a Super Bowl championship. A few years later he came nowhere close to that turnaround in Miami.

Entrepreneurs made America the wealthiest most powerful nation on Earth. An education system determined to promote adequacy and deter the American Spirit will fail our country. We must all vigorously work to end No Child Left Behind.

I’ll admit it: I didn’t think Medea was appropriate for the tenth grade curriculum, especially for the at-risk kids that I teach.

If you will recall, Medea is a Euripides play about the demi-goddess Medea who marries Jason (of the golden fleece). They have two kids and look to be on the way to happily ever after, till Medea facilitates the murder of Jason’s wicked uncle Pelias, whereupon they are driven from the island of his birth.

They end up in Corinth and there, Jason realizes that he will never be satisfied with happily ever after. He decides to marry the daughter of the king and claim royalty even though he couldn’t have it at home. Problem is, Jason’s already married to Medea, but in this mysogynistic society, he can get away with turning his back on his first marriage (and kids) and get into a second one.

Or so he thinks. . .but remember, Medea is magical and in the ancient myths, gods and goddesses don’t have to play nice. So Medea ends up killing the king of Corinthand his daughter (Jason’s new love) by poison. Then she takes a sword and stabs her two young sons to death. Goddess-wise, she escapes unscathed.

Well! If that isn’t a good story for tenth graders!

To top it off, although we had a nice translation of the play, it’s still rather formal for rural, at-risk fifteen-year-olds, or so I thought. I was wrong! To be sure, I skipped over many of the long chorus sections, comparing them (roughly) to the songs that are played behind some CSI and Law and Order stories, to tell the story in music. And after all, the Greek choruses were all about singing and dancing, not just reading aloud.

The kids wanted to read the parts. They all claimed parts and read them if not with full expression, then at least with genuine feeling. The bell rang. Next day, they all leaped into their parts again.

When Medea stabbed her children, they almost couldn’t stand it, but it was such a splendid lesson in curbing yourself. Kids at risk have a hard time curbing themselves. Reading about Medea who went way over the line helped them realize what it looks like to others when they cross the line.

I’ll admit it: I was delighted and shocked that they understood this play and really got the message–and that they enjoyed it. I generally mistrust the recommended curriculum (bad admission, I know), but at least in this case, whoever the curriculum-recommenders are got it right and I was wrong.

Nice way to be wrong, though.

This is a very challenging situation for policy makers because the solution to the education crisis in our country is the teacher.  Last week Michelle Obama wrote an article in US News and World Report that was titled “Teachers are Key to a Successful Economy.” I couldn’t agree more.

The Gates Foundation also came to the same conclusion after spending years focusing on small schools.   They are now focusing on teacher effectiveness.

As a long time teacher at Palo Alto High and someone who has seen multiple education fads come and go, I think thought leaders have finally come to the right focus —  the teacher is the key.  No matter what books are provided, no matter what curriculum is required …  the key is how the teacher feels about what she is teaching and how she treats her students.

I am sure everyone can remember a teacher they liked, but they can also remember a teacher they disliked because the teacher seemed to dislike students. Students know when a teacher doesn’t want to be there; they know it just by being in the classroom.  It’s not fun. At one point these teachers probably liked students and teaching, but they now somehow feel trapped in a job that no longer provides the same pleasures it once did. These teachers actually don’t dislike students; they dislike what they are required to do– teach to a test, like NCLB tests, year after year and work with ineffective administrators.

Over the past eight years teachers nationwide have been teaching to the NCLB test which is why many of them are disheartened and burned out.

No matter what the administration dictates, when a teacher closes the door and is the classroom alone with the students, he/she is in charge.   If the teacher is well-trained, then the students will learn more.  If the teacher is happy to be there, then the students will be more content in the classroom.   The teacher sets the tone; the teacher provides the activities; the teacher plans the day. Happy students work harder.  Happy teachers teach better.

It sounds like an old adage, but what we need to do as a nation is to support teachers in the classroom and modify the NCLB Act which is now up for Congressional renewal.  Supporting teachers is key to our success as a nation. Support means supporting increases in teachers salaries, respecting  the role of teachers in society, donating money to school foundations, volunteering to work in the classroom, and modifying the NCLB Act to so tha teachers are not motivated to teach to the test.

Pit Bulls and ClockersLast year I went to visit a child’s house during the first week of school. I was greeted by two pit bulls. One was happy to see me, and one was not. I was content to stay on the other side of the door. When a first grader invited me in, I asked for an adult who removed the dogs from the scene before I entered the house. During the course of the year I ran into those pit bulls on several occasions. Perhaps the biggest pit bull was the child’s father, who died a violent death this past summer, a victim of the combative life he allegedly led.

The clockers incident occurred this past week in a new neighborhood, at a new school. They ignored me when I drove by, but immediately eyed me as I parked my car. The car caused confusion because it was clearly not a cop car. It was evident though, I was in a neighborhood in which I did not belong. My Black friends have told me when canvassing neighborhoods for political campaigns, I can appear very cop like, meaning; folks don’t answer their door when I knock.

The clockers stood as I approached the house. I spoke first, “Relax fellas, I’m just a teacher, looking for Joanne Doe’s house.” It calmed them right down. They cheerfully directed me to a house just on the other side of their domain. Here there were no pit bulls, and at first there was no answer. It was obvious though, that I was clocker approved, and shortly the door opened. The aged woman answering the door was reluctant to invite me in. I persisted, and got my conversation resulting in a conference the next day at school.

In the long run, despite my best efforts, the willingness to face up to Pit Bulls and Clockers, I doubt my labors and good intentions had any effect on the outcome these children will face. They have bigger obstacles in life than getting bad grades and poor behavior reports in school.

The fact is people who live in Spain learn Spanish, and people who are born to English speaking parents in America learn English. What we all learn, is how to survive in our environment. For these two children, one raised in violent environment, one raised in a drug environment, they have learned what their parents taught them. My job is to undo that. It should be easy. The people who taught them first, whom despite their shortcomings were loved by their children, are both dead.