In the News Again: The N-Word in Education

Image Credit:Flickr/Oxalis37 

Last week I wrote a post about the n-word in education. Two news stories from the Chicago area caught my attention--one coach posted a comment on Facebook using the n-word and was suspended for a year; a teacher used the n-word during class and was also suspended. The motivation behind each educator's use of the word was different, but the outcomes were the same. I made the point that no matter what the motivation, the use of that word hurts.

A few days after publishing that post, I read an Iowa newspaper and found another similar story. Read that story here. The story says that a biracial high school student was walking down the hall with some friends having a lighthearted discussion in which one boy asked another "are you gay?" A teacher overheard this conversation and intervened. According to the story, she

directed him to her classroom, allegedly stating “I’ll show you if it is OK to say things like that.”

The complaint alleges that once in the room the teacher asked,

 “How would you like it if I called you a (racial epithet)?” and “How would you like it if someone called you a lazy (racial epithet)?”

The boy's father filed a complaint with the Civil Rights Commission, but it appears that no further action will be taken. The district issued a statement saying that it is a personnel matter, and that due to state and federal privacy laws they are unable to say anything other than "racism will not be tolerated;"  whenever an allegation of racism or discrimination is made, it will be investigated fully.

In my own classroom, I've dealt with students making politically incorrect and/or hurtful comments to each other. Teenagers today (and back in my own teen years, too) say things for shock value, not always realizing that those things are hurtful. It is always difficult to figure out how to make kids understand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such comments. But one thing I know is that calling someone names to teach them that name-calling is wrong is ineffective. In my book, it falls into the same camp of spanking children to teach them that hitting is wrong, or applying the death penalty to teach people that killing is wrong. It smacks of hypocrisy. If something is wrong, it is wrong. Bullying a bully doesn't make them stop...it just makes them more hurt, more angry, and more likely to bully again.  Using a hurtful word to teach that hurtful words are wrong is not teaching anybody anything.

In addition to that newspaper story, I was informed by my husband that someone hollered the n-word at him from their car recently. He was getting the mail from our mailbox at the time. He says it has happened a few times lately, but until I talked to him about last week's post he hadn't said anything about it to me. He told me that his personal attitude about the n-word leads him to shout back, "That's all you got???" He says that he refuses to allow the n-word--or any word--to hurt him.

I am left wondering how to prepare my children for the very real possibility that they will encounter the n-word--either from a random passerby who shouts from their car, or from a well-intentioned teacher who doesn't realize how hurtful that word is. How do we prepare our children for something like that? I remember my mom teaching me the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me." But for most kids, that saying is just not true. Some words hurt. How do you teach your children a) how to avoid using hurtful words and b) how to respond when someone directs hurtful words towards them? I look forward to reading your comments.
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The intention of the teacher mentioned in this post may have been to teach a lesson about the hurtfulness of using the word "gay", but the outcome was just as hurtful due to her use of the n-word.  There are better ways to teach about the hurtful ways people use the word gay. Check out Teaching Tolerance's lesson plan What's So Bad about "That's So Gay"?  It starts with a simple activity: ask your students if they've ever been called a name. Ask them to think about how it made them feel. Get them thinking about what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such names without calling them any names.

Another great resource is ThinkB4YouSpeak.com The following downloadable/printable flyer comes from their website.

The N-word in Education

Image credit: Flickr/DJOtaku

A white coach in suburban Chicago posts a derogatory comment about Whitney Houston's death on Facebook and is suspended for a year. He says he didn't know he was writing that word. He says he only shares Facebook with friends and family, but now everyone knows he wrote it. He says that some of his best friends are black.  What did he write that stirred up all this controversy? "I'm so sick of reading about this dumb stupid N----- Whitney Houston."

The parent of a former player saw his comment and spread it around. She wonders if he felt that way about her black son when he played on the team...

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A white teacher gets suspended in a Chicago school when he begins a discussion about the N-word in his class. The teacher, Lincoln Brown, says that he intercepted a note that was being passed in class. The note had rap lyrics written on it that used the N-word and he thought it was a "teachable moment"---a great time to talk about the history of that word and how it relates the book Huckleberry Finn.  While in the midst of this discussion, his principal did a walk-through and deemed the conversation inappropriate. Lincoln Brown was suspended from teaching, and is now suing the principal for violating his 1st and 5th amendment rights.


According to a Sun Times piece, in class Mr. Brown said: “can anyone explain to me why blacks can call each other a n*****, and not get mad, but when whites do it, blacks get angry.” Brown allowed three students to answer the question.


Mr. Brown's students were 6th graders and mostly black. The principal who suspended him is also black.
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Both of these stories stirred up a lot of conversation. Comments on each story show that the n-word is still one of the most charged and powerful words in the American English lexicon. An interesting piece by Nick Chiles (a black man)  on My Brown Baby  argues that Mr. Brown shouldn't suspended because he is opening up a much needed discussion on race. If we don't talk about it, how do we progress towards becoming a multiracial / "post racial" society?


In my mind, the first story is about a stereotypical racist--how do you not know that you typed the n-word in your own Facebook status???  Who uses that word by accident and then follows it up with the cliche excuse "some of my best friends are black?"  But the second one...that one really gets me thinking. It makes me think a lot because the question Mr. Brown poses in class about rap music's use of the n-word is one that my own students ask all the time: "Why is it okay for them, but not for us?" I try to explain the idea of "reclaiming a word," the way the feminist movement tries to reclaim the word "bitch" turning it around to make it a positive. But for me, that whole explanation doesn't work...because no matter how many women reclaim the word "bitch", given a certain context it still hurts to hear it applied. The n-word is no different. No matter how many rappers try to reclaim it and make it their own, it still hurts when a white person says it--no matter how well-intentioned that white person may be. I think that's what Mr. Brown needs to realize. No matter what the motivation for his conversation, now matter how well-intentioned he may be, that word hurts.


As a teacher and a believer in the power of empathy, I am always looking for a way to help my students understand things from a different perspective. I have never been able to find a way to explain the pain caused by the n-word. There really is no way to explain to a white person what a degrading word it is...but the closest to a good explanation I've ever seen comes in the form of humor. White comedian Louis CK openly (and hilariously) discusses his skin privilege, and the fact that there is really nothing that anyone can say that hurts him because of that privilege.

Warning--Louis CK uses crude language


How do you feel about these stories? Is it appropriate to discuss the n-word in a classroom? If so, what's the best way to do it? If not, then how should teachers address questions from their students or address situations like the one Mr. Brown encountered with a student passing a note that included the n-word in rap lyrics?

Teaching is a Sport

The experience of student teaching is making me think and reflect on a whole lot of stuff...my brain is buzzing 24-7 with ideas (I have been teaching in an alternative h.s. program for 14 years, but am finishing up my degree in Special Education this semester!) As I share some of my thoughts with my husband, who is currently coaching our son's 5th/6th grade basketball team, I've noticed that he is taking on the role of one of those coaches in the movies. You know the ones: the motivator, the guy who gives the big speech at half time that motivates the team to go out there and give it their all!


warning--this video montage contains some crude language.


Last week I attended an in-service. A lot of teachers moan and groan about having to take the day away from grading papers or planning lessons, but confession time: I really enjoy in-service. I realize that part of the reason I like it is because I teach in an off-site alternative education classroom where I have an instructional aide, but no teaching colleagues; in-service is my chance to mingle with other teachers. But I also realized last week, that in-service is a lot like a pep talk from a coach. Teachers are gathered together to get a game plan together, to learn strategies in how to work as a team, and reflect on what works when we're all out in the field.

Here are some strategies that have been shared at many of the in-services I've attended that have been most helpful:

• Greet each student by name EVERY DAY
• Instead of criticizing one student who does something poorly, praise the many students who do something well (aka accentuating the positive)
• Remember that not everyone has the same skills and abilities, so we need to differentiate instruction

That last one is a doozie that is featured at just about every conference, meeting, and in-service I've ever attended. The overall message is that one size doesn't fit all in teaching and learning. We need to offer a menu of options for students to choose from. We need to be flexible in how we grade student work. We need to realize that every kid comes to us with a different set of skills, background experiences, and life situations.

In sports, coaches make their teams practice skills. They run drills, they learn plays, the work on form. Games played against an opponent are where they put all their moves together, right? But what if what they practiced doesn't work? Do coaches sit on the side line and just let their team keep running the same ineffective plays over and over again? Not if they want to have a chance to win! They give the motivational half-time speech, change the plan, and start the second half fresh with a new set of plays.

In teaching, so many teachers have been running the same ineffective plays for years, not realizing that what they're doing isn't working. Many of us need to update our play books and incorporate some new moves. This doesn't mean that we're bad teachers...it means that we need to keep up with current practices and adapt our game. Just as an athlete needs to keep practicing, and a coach needs to keep adjusting the play book for each new opponent, so do teachers need to keep practicing and adapting. Our work is never done. We need to be constant students in the art teaching.

How do you keep your practice current?

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Here are some links to sites featured at  in-service meetings that I found really helpful. These links lead to plays I've added to my play book over the 14 years I've been a student in the art of teaching:

Pat Wolfe's Mind Matters : Did you know that the brain is "wired" to learn in specific ways? Pat blew me away at an inservice 6 years ago with her brain-based research on how to make instruction more effective by teaching in a way that allows the human brain to learn.

Todd Whitaker's What Great Teachers Do Differently helped me remember that we are working with individual kids who like to be acknowledged and recognized as individual people. He also reminded me that it feels better to be recognized for something positive than to watch someone else be chastised for something negative.

John Medina's Brain Rules taught me last week about simple, effective strategies I can use in class to help my students learn more effectively if I just keep in mind what science tells us is true about the human brain.

Whether you are a teacher or not, you need to stay current in your practice, right? What are some resources you use in your work to update your "play book"?

Education Week: More Districts Sending Teachers Into Students' Homes

Image Credit: Flickr/The Voice of Eye

Would you welcome your child's teacher into your home? 


To be honest, I have extremely mixed feelings about the whole home visit thing. A recent article made me think even more critically about my misgivings. Here is a quote from the article that caught my attention:

"There is a gold mine of information in that home—whether it's fully furnished or whether they don't have electricity," said Karen Kalish, a philanthropist based in St. Louis who has led the creation of teacher home-visit programs in several Missouri districts.

For example, just one visit home can help a teacher understand that a particular student doesn't have a desk or a place to do homework. "The teacher can now do something different with the child, instead of sending homework home and getting mad when it's not done," Ms. Kalish said.  --from Education Week: More Districts Sending Teachers Into Students' Homes

Is it just me? or is this an extremely insensitive comment? I work primarily with kids who are on the lower end of the income spectrum. Some of their families may invite me to their homes for social events; but I don't know any of them who would want me to visit as part of a school program. Most of my students' families wouldn't enjoy having someone witness their struggles. Their pride would be hurt if I saw that they had no electricity or no table to sit at to do their work. Many of my students come to school to escape their home situations. They like to have a part of every day where they don't have to worry about the struggles of home life, and they want the freedom to choose whether or not to share those struggles with me. I talk with them and listen to them whenever they want to share, but it is their choice to share. If they choose to share details with me at school, they still might not want me to visit them in their homes (just like I wouldn't necessarily want my students to visit me in my home.) There is a separation between our personal and professional relationships. I have close relationships with my students, but there are boundaries. Home visits cross those boundaries, but only in one direction: teachers visit student's homes but not vice versa.

The whole situation seems like it sets teachers up to be scientists observing lab rats. 

What bothers me even more is the fact that there is also the complex issue of diversity to consider. The U.S. Department of Education's report entitled Increasing Teacher Diversity states that, "Nationally, minority students make up 40.7 percent of the public school population. Although many schools (both urban and rural) are increasingly made up of a majority of black and Latino students, black and Latino teachers represent only about 14.6 percent of the teaching workforce."

Did you get that? Over 40% of the nation's students are not white, while more than 75% of the teachers are white. Following Ms. Kalisha's comments in Education week, it would appear that many schools are sending their white teachers into the homes of non-white students in order to witness their poverty. This is supposed to make them less angry at students when they don't have their homework completed.

Again...this sounds a lot like scientists observing lab rats. This does not describe not socially equal human beings interacting with one another.

There has got to be a better way to get teachers to become more aware of their students' backgrounds. There has got to be a better way of getting parents involved--one that doesn't potentially cause families shame or make them feel objectified.

There are several research studies out demonstrating the connection between parental involvement and student success (see the Harvard Family Research Project or the National Coalition for Parent Involvement in Education websites for research summaries.) But there isn't really any research saying that home visits are the best way to make that increase happen. I personally think school district dollars would be better spent trying to get parents into schools, rather than getting teachers into student's homes.

What do you think? How would you feel if school staff visited your home?

What if? Thoughts on Ron Clark Academy, Parents and Teachers

In 2009, I attended  the Risky Business Conference for educators who work with at-risk youth. Mr. Ron Clark was the keynoter. I don't think there was a single person in the audience who wasn't captivated by his presentation. He is an entertainer, and both his classroom and his school (Ron Clark Academy) are lively places. Watch this video to see what I mean.

Ron Clark is very innovative. He has a unique style of teaching, leading, and talking about education. The overwhelming quality I sensed in his presentation at Risky Business is passion. He loves what he does and he loves his students.

Looks great, right? Here's some background on the Ron Clark Academy (from the RCA student FAQ page):

• Potential students must apply while in 4th grade.
• Approximately thirty 5th graders are admitted each year. Students in grades 6-8 are not admitted.
• 5th graders are expected to remain in the program for 4 years in order to achieve the greatest success from the Academy's program of study.
• Average class size is 30 students (these are not all gifted students; a majority have learning or behavioral issues.)
• It costs money to attend RCA. There is a sliding scale for tuition and many fees are offset by scholarships, but admission may be limited if there are not enough corporate donations or sponsors.

There are many teachers across the country who have a lot of passion. But their passion is sometimes limited by barriers that the Ron Clark Academy has worked hard to break down. Due to corporate donations and sponsorship, RCA has a beautiful building with up-to-date technology. Class size is limited--the school only has about 120 students, on average 30 kids per grade. Those kids stay together for four years, which means they really build a strong sense of community. They have relationships with each other and with their teachers. And I guarantee you, that RCA parents and teachers also get to know each other pretty well. How could they not when they are together for 4 years in such a small school?

Many things strike me about the Ron Clark Academy. First and foremost is that I think the vast majority of teachers and students would thrive in an environment like the one at RCA. With proper resources, a nurturing environment, and lots of stability, amazing things can happen. Throw in high-interest curriculum that engages students' bodies and minds...how can it fail?  

The reality is that most communities and school districts can't break down those same barriers without strong intervention from our government. It would take a great deal of change to make your average public school look anything like the RCA (not to mention a great deal of money.) What can change? On a small in-your-classroom level, teachers/parents/students can work on building better relationships. Education needs to be personal. It needs to be individual. We need to look at each kid for who they are and what they can do and tailor our instruction to meet their needs.

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On September 6, 2011 CNN ran a piece by Ron Clark, titled "What teachers really want to tell parents." It caused quite a stir in the Twitter-verse, with both parents and educators taking issue with many of his points. Lots of people have written responses. CNN ran a piece based on comments to Clark's post. Doug Goldberg of Special Education Advisor wrote a piece expressing his frustration with Clark's seemingly antagonistic view of parental involvement that you can read here. In another post about the controversy, 6th grade teacher, Josh Stumpenhorst, reminds us that while there most definitely are some bad parents and some bad teachers, we cannot make assumptions about all parents or teachers. Each individual must be approached as an individual. 

I agree with Josh on that notion of individualizing each educational situation.  That said, I kind of wish Ron Clark had simply sent his letter out to the parents in his Academy. They have a history together, a relationship where such commentary could be like extended family talking after Thanksgiving dinner--sometimes you don't all agree, but in the end you're still family. The rest of us are not a part of that dynamic, not involved in that relationship. I don't know of any other school quite like the Ron Clark Academy. Issues there are not the same as issues in other schools. Most schools don't have the same physical environment (does your school have a slide from the second story to the first?) Few schools have such up-to-date  technology (digital keyboard accompaniment to math songs! and SmartBoards in every classroom!) Most schools don't have such limited class size, and are unable to keep the same small group of kids together for four years. Most schools don't have such a small student:staff ratio (this photo shows 20 staff for about 120 students. Also, note how many teachers of color there are! The staff actually reflects student demographics!) Maybe if we all started out with the same corporate-sponsored structure in place we would have a better chance at creating close enough relationships with parents to say the things the Ron Clark said in his piece. 

Currently in education, we are suffering from a climate of blame. Many teachers blame parents, and many parents blame teachers. One thing many have discovered as a result of the recent Ron Clark controversy is the fact that both groups need to communicate with each other better. There is a common goal here: educating our kids.  The focus should be on how to work together to eliminate barriers to learning; how to turn our schools into strong communities where students, teachers and parents have effective relationships, and are united by a common goal: success for our students. I encourage teachers and parents to reach out to each other--to really listen to each other. Don't blame, and don't assume that what works in one educational situation will work in all situations. Treat each other as individuals. I think that if we all do that, we can start to build relationships, to work together, and to eliminate barriers to learning. What if we all learned to treat each other individually? What if we could stop making assumptions about parents, teachers, students, schools? What if we could truly individualize education? 

The Power of a Symbol

Several years ago I had a group of students who thought it was "cool" to draw swastikas everywhere. They drew swastikas on their schoolwork, on their clothing, and on their skin. I was horrified. When I asked them to stop, they questioned my motives. "We don't have any Jewish kids here. It's not offending anyone!" I told them it was offending me, and I wanted them to stop.

They did not stop, however. Swastikas continued to appear on their schoolwork and on their skin. One boy used a permanent marker to draw a swastika in the middle of his forehead.  He wore it with pride. He made sure to take off his hat when facing me so that I could see his open defiance of my request. When I looked at him questioningly, asking, "Why did you do that? I asked you to stop." He recited to me the thousands year-old history of the swastika, and assured me (with his blonde hair and blue eyes) that he did not intend for anyone to take it in an Aryan way. He was not a racist or a Nazi, he said.

 

Flickr Image Credit:Wm Jas 

I was deeply disturbed by his insistence that wearing a swastika on his forehead is something to be proud of. The previous year, a different group of students had gone with me to the local nursing home to interview residents about their experiences in WWII.  Their pain was palpable. To have this young man not show any regard for the memory of that pain bothered me immensely. I could only conclude that my student did not know the more recent history of that symbol well enough. As his teacher, it was my job to teach him. I could look at him and say, "YOU are a racist," which would cause him to become more defiant and angry. Or I could try to get him to see things from another perspective.

While thinking about how to approach the subject, I realized that the biggest challenge would be getting these rural, poor, white kids to put themselves in someone else's shoes. I thought about just showing them a movie like Schindler's List.  But that is just a movie. It is so easy to dissociate one's self from a movie; that's not real--it's Hollywood. Instead of a movie, I got the documentary World War II -- The Lost Color Archives. Even with its gut-wrenching scenes from the concentration camps, I didn't think that my students would find much reason to relate to the footage on a personal level.  I struggled to think of a way to make them aware of what the swastika symbolizes to so many people.

My students have all experienced pain. Some of them have experienced so much pain that I am amazed by their ability to survive. The boy with the swastika on his forehead was one such person. His history involves both physical and sexual violence, both of which deeply affected him. Many of my other students had similar backgrounds.

Two days after discovering the swastika-on-the-forehead , I told my students that we were not going to complete any of our regular schoolwork. "We are going to have a discussion. It will be a really serious discussion and I will be sharing some very personal information with you. It is my hope that you will feel comfortable enough to share some things about yourself, too. Because it is so scary to share such personal stories, I need you all to agree to treat each other with respect. If you cannot handle that, you may leave right now. You will not be penalized for leaving. But you will be penalized if you are disrespectful to anyone sharing their personal stories." No one left.

After sharing the story of one of my darkest memories, I asked my students if they had any similar memories. I was shocked by the number of kids who had been living with immeasurable pain. Rape, physical abuse and mental abuse are far more common than I'd ever thought they were. After an intense period of sharing and tears, I asked those who had been brave enough to share, "Are there things that you see, hear, or smell that seem to send you back in time? Do you have flashbacks?" Each one of those kids could name a scent, an object, a song that froze them in fear, making them return in their minds to the time and place they were hurt so profoundly.  I asked a girl who admitted to flashbacks  how she would feel if I played the song that triggered her flashbacks each day as she entered our classroom. I asked the boy with the swastikas how he would feel if I presented him with the trigger to his pain each day. I told them that while the swastika does have an ancient history as a symbol of peace, there are people alive today who will not see it as such. For those people, wearing a swastika is like forcing them back in time to their moment of pain. Then we watched the documentary together.

We wept together. All of us.

At the conclusion of the film I asked them if they now understood why I was so upset by their casual display of swastikas. With red eyes, they all nodded. The boy with the swastika on his head got up to scrub his face in the bathroom. When he returned to the classroom he said, "This was an intense day. Can we have a group hug?" We all stood at the front of our classroom hugging each other for a long time.

That was the single most powerful day of teaching/learning that I've ever experienced in my career.

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For the past week, two things have been on my mind: the movie The Help, and the start of the new school year. The story I just told brings together my thoughts on both subjects.

On The Help:There has been much controversy over both the movie and the book.  I didn't quite understand the controversy until I read this post by Ann Freeman (via Nordette Adams.) I am left wondering: if I read the book, if I see the movie: will I be wearing a proverbial swastika on my head? Am I perpetuating the pain of the past?

On the start of the school year: There is more talk now than ever before about teacher accountability for the learning students do in our classrooms. I just wrote about my most powerful teaching moment--one that deeply affected both me and my students. Yet none of what was taught or learned that day is considered of value in our current educational system. There is no bubble test to measure a student's growth in her/his ability to feel empathy. How do we balance this need for accountability with the need to ensure that kids learn more than just reading and math? For it is my opinion that they also need to learn more about what it means to be human.

I Choose

Flickr Image Credit: Scintt

Since 1996 I have been teaching in alternative high school settings. Next week I will begin my 14th year in the same classroom, working with a group of kids who are deemed "at-risk" of dropping out. Even after all these years, I still get nervous and excited about the first day of school...but not for the reasons that many people think I do.

It's taken years for me to get used to the reactions I get from people after I tell them what I do for a living. Jaws drop, eyes get big, and shock registers. Some bless my heart and nominate me for sainthood. Others ask very direct questions, like: "Don't you fear for your life?" Here is what I tell them: I am not a saint. I try my best to help kids graduate and I care about them; but I am no miracle worker. They earn their diplomas through their own hard work. My job is to believe in them and to remind them that they are extremely capable of being successful. I do not fear for my life. My students are just kids. Many of them have suffered greatly due to a variety of life situations, and that suffering often creates a tough exterior, a hard shell of protection from hurt. But underneath that shell, they are all soft-hearted kids. They are the ones who should be seen as miracle workers! Many of them are survivors, who somehow manage to not only overcome the obstacles they've faced in their young lives, but also to thrive.

Flickr Image Credit:TimsStrategy 

I recently read this post at De Su Mama, written by a fellow Multicultural Familia contributor. Vanessa blogged about her career in social services working with "at-risk youth," and it really struck a chord with me because I work with the same kinds of kids. She wrote about the way some kids are faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles (abuse, violence, addiction, etc.) but are able to overcome those struggles and do amazing things.  She beautifully discusses that quality, as well as how to instill it in our own children--the quality of resiliency. Vanessa's post was linked to another that discussed resiliency in greater detail, naming five characteristics that help develop a child's resilience. One of those characteristics really stuck out for me because it is one I find myself focusing on both with my students and with my own children: Internal Locus of Control.


I have three children between the ages of 7-11. Here's a common scenario in my house: a loud crash, a burst of tears, footsteps pounding up the stairs, a shrieking cry, "MOOOMMMMMMY!!!! A just pushed B and now she's crying!" I separate the brawlers and try to figure out what happened by asking questions. Almost every answer to my questions includes these words: "Yeah, but..." My kids see a chain of cause and effect that always leads to the notion that someone else is to blame for their actions.  "Yeah but if she hadn't grabbed the toy out of my hand, I wouldn't have hit her!" That is an example of external locus of control--it's not my fault I hit her...it's hers!

Similar things happen in my classroom. My new students often come on the first day of school with huge burdens weighing them down--a history of pain, suffering, and failure. (No one comes to my alternative program because they have a history of success in a traditional high school setting--they are all there for a second chance.) Almost all of them start out by saying some variation of, "I can't": I can't do math because I failed it; I can't come to school every day because I have to help raise my younger siblings; I can't graduate because no one else in my family has ever done it.

They have some heart-rending stories about why they can't do things...but rarely do they see anything in their lives as the result of their own choices. They do not have that internal locus of control. "My mom says I have to;" "My friends will give me a hard time;""Yeah, but..." Rarely do they feel they have the power to make their own choices.

I get nervous on the first day of school because I worry about how effective I will be at helping students  students learn this powerful lesson: YOU HAVE A CHOICE. I worry about how many will choose to take responsibility for themselves and how many will blame me, their parents, or others for the things that happen in their lives. I wonder how many will end up strong enough to deal with both the positive and negative consequences of their own choices. (And I worry about how many negative consequences I will have to mete out before the choices-lead-to-consequences lesson is learned.) I get excited on the first day of school because when kids learn that they have the power to choose success, it is an amazing thing to watch! Some of my students start out as young, immature kids; but they leave as responsible young adults whom I admire greatly. I often start out the year feeling like a parent/disciplinarian and end it feeling like I have a new group of close friends. It is extremely exciting to watch kids transform!



To spur on this transformation, on the first day of school I like to let my students know: "You have a clean slate here. Starting today, it doesn't matter what classes you failed or how much trouble you've been in. Maybe you've suffered through a lot of pain because of what other people have done to you. Maybe you don't think you have what it takes to graduate. Well, starting today, you have a choice. You can keep worrying about your past, or you can start planning your future. You can let other people hold you back, or you can choose to break free. It doesn't matter to me who your parents are, why you are here, or what you've done in the past. Right now you are here, and if you choose to try to graduate I am going to help you in any way I can. You can do it if you make the choice to do so." Sometimes I play them this song by India Arie, "I Choose." It is a powerful message about everyone's internal locus of control. A reminder that I have the power to CHOOSE to be the best that I can be...

Resilience, the power of choice, and internal locus of control: that's what's on my lesson plan schedule for the school year. Let's hope they are lessons well-taught and well-learned...

Popularity--not in my Job Description

This week I had a one-on-one conversation with a student who has been having some issues, both in and out of school. She is frustrated by gossip and people who trash-talk about her, yet she consistently puts herself in the middle of the group of people who frustrate her most. We talked about her feelings and what she can do to help the situation. In the middle of the conversation, she told me that the kids who have been giving her problems in our classroom don't like me. I had to chuckle.

Making students like me is not my job. Helping them to graduate from high school and become contributing members of our society is.

Creative Commons attribution by madmolecule 

Don't get me wrong, it is nice when I have students who turn out to be friends. I have had some close relationships with students that have been built on mutual respect. But friendship is not the purpose of our relationship. The purpose is educational: I facilitate their learning. I assist them in their self-directed studies. I do whatever I can to help them achieve graduation from high school. I try to help them learn how to be successful in the world after high school.


Our journey together needs structure. Structure means that certain rules and standards are in place. When students break the rules, there are consequences. It is part of my job to impose those consequences. This doesn't always make me a popular person...

Creative Commons attribution: by Bytemarks

But popularity is not my goal. In the real world, all choices have consequences, and my students need to learn about those consequences. Come to work late, and you may be docked some pay. Use illegal substances and your health may suffer/you may be arrested/you may lose your job and/or you may lose custody of your children. Make disparaging remarks to a peer--in person or on Facebook--and you may be on the receiving end of a harassment lawsuit. Spend your hours texting when you should be working and you may not have a job for long.

These are the real life consequences for the choices many of my students make on a daily basis. It is my job to model good choices, and to teach them about the consequences of bad choices. It is rarely an easy job and it is definitely not one that is popular--but it sure is rewarding when I have the privilege of watching a student graduate. It's even more rewarding when they come back to visit, hug me, tell me about their lives, and share their success stories! Such moments make me realize that teaching in an alternative school program is a very long-term job--the true rewards don't come until long after the kids have left.

Creative Commons Attribution: by smays

Don't Blame it on DIBELS

Earlier today, @DianeRavitch tweeted "Children arrive in kindergarten with gaps between them, based on family income, engagement. Teachers didn't cause that gap."

A short time later, Aaron Thiell (@althiell) tweeted "@DianeRavitch Kindergarten should be a year of bedtime stories savored among new friends, not DIBELS nonsense word fluency & stop watches."

Diane Ravitch's main point may be that teachers are not to blame for poverty and other outside factors that cause children to lag behind in school, and thus they should not be blamed for student's failure to perform on high-stakes tests. But DIBELS are not high-stakes tests. In fact, DIBELS and other curriculum based measurements are some of the only academic tools teachers have to close the the achievement gap.

Like Diane Ravitch tweeted, teachers can't be blamed if students come to their classrooms without the prerequisite skills needed for success in school. We can't be blamed if students come to school hungry, sleep-deprived, or emotionally scarred any more than we can take credit if they enter our classrooms already able to perform at or above proficiency. All kids are different when they enter our classrooms, and that difference is probably the single-most challenging part of classroom teaching. It is impossible for teachers to ensure that all students enter our classrooms with the equal access to basic needs. It is impossible for us "to fix" the many environmental and genetic factors that predict success in school. The only thing we can control is how we teach.

How do we know how to teach when every student comes to us with a different set of abilities? There are two main ways:

1. We can try to get to know each student by talking to them and closely examining their work. We can build individual relationships with each child that are so strong that we recognize when they are at frustration level, when they are confused, or when they are understanding concepts so well that they are ready to move on.
2. We can use curriculum-based measurements (like DIBELS) to get quick and easy measurements of a students reading, writing, or math levels and take the guesswork out of figuring out what skills the student has when they enter our classrooms. 

Option number one is really only plausible in a classroom with few students and a lot of time available for one-on-one instruction. Option number two is plausible anywhere. When curriculum-based measurements are used correctly, they eliminate the negative effects of outside factors over which teachers have no control.

Here's a hypothetical example:
J.D. is a third grade student who comes to school hungry and tired. His mom is a single parent who works 2 part-time jobs but still doesn't make enough money to support her four children. They live in a low-income housing complex that is riddled with crime. J.D.'s two oldest siblings have dropped out of school, and unless something changes J.D. and his younger sister will end up doing the same. His classroom teacher has been trying to help J.D. be successful, but she can't seem to get through to him. He is easily frustrated in class and as a result he has a lot of behavior issues. She thinks about what would make J.D. successful: a two-parent household, higher wages for his mother, a nicer place to live, positive role-models in his neighborhood. She feels helpless because she can't do anything about those things. It's not her fault J.D. is failing and there is no way for her to help him. She worries because there is no way to get J.D. to perform at grade-level on high-stakes tests when he comes from such an impoverished background. As a result of circumstances that are beyond her control, she may lose her teaching job.

In this hypothetical situation, the teacher is right: there is no way to help J.D. if we blame all of his problems on things that are happening outside of school and beyond our control. We can refer him to social services and send him to a breakfast program before school, but there is still a chance that his family won't follow through on obtaining any of those services. Does that mean that J.D. is unteachable? That we should give up? That his situation is so bad that he will never be able to learn? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Scores of people have overcome situations of poverty to become successful. Teachers need to stop feeling helpless and use the tools that available to us to teach our students, no matter what skills or deficiencies they enter the classroom with. How can we do that? Using curriculum-based measurement (CBM) is a really good option.

Unlike high-stakes testing, CBM is what it stands for: measurement that is based on the curriculum. Students are assessed on skills they've actually been learning in the classroom, not on skills that a corporate test-maker decided all third graders should know. CBM allows a teacher to quickly find out what skills a student has when they enter her classroom by giving one or two-minute assessments in content areas such as reading or math. When a student's current level is assessed, the teacher can gear instruction for that level. Repeat measurements can be done weekly, monthly, or quarterly to monitor progress and then adjust the level of instruction if necessary. There is no guessing about what level a student is performing at or worrying about why they are at that level--teachers simply use current information to make decisions about instruction. When using CBM properly, teachers only have to worry about things over which they actually have control--how they teach and what level of curriculum they use with each student to do that teaching. I can't adjust a student's home life; I can adjust my instructional decisions.

Here's another possibility in the hypothetical situation of J.D. and his teacher:
J.D. still comes from the same situation of poverty. His teacher still wishes that there was something she could do to make his life easier. She brings snacks for her class each day so that they at least have a full belly when school starts.  Within the first month of school she administers a reading probe (like DIBELS) to each of her students to see what their current reading level is. She spends a little over ten-minutes with J.D. to find out his instructional level in Oral Reading Fluency (ORF.) She discovers that despite the fact that J.D. is in third grade, he is barely reading at a first grade level. She adjusts her instruction so that J.D.'s reading group materials fit his level and he receives one-on-one instruction using first grade reading passages. The passages are challenging for J.D., but he's not so frustrated that he has behavioral outbursts. His teacher graphs J.D.'s progress and shares the graph with him. Their goal is to help him be able to read a third grade passage without getting frustrated. She spends 2-5 minutes each week checking on his progress and sharing the results with him. He feels good because he can see that he is becoming a better reader and she feels good because she is making a difference. She still worries because J.D. is not proficient in third-grade reading and won't pass the high-stakes test. But if the district penalizes her for his scores on the high-stakes test, she has proof that she made a difference--the CBM scores show that J.D. has made growth and jumped up almost 2 grade levels in reading for the year.

Not all standardized tests are bad. By the same token, not all CBMs are used properly. But when curriculum-based measures like DIBELS are used properly, they can be a valuable tool both for students and for teachers. CBM can level the playing field for students who come from situations of poverty by giving them a chance to receive individualized instruction that will help close the achievement gap.

The Problem with Schools Today

Image Credit: Flickr/alyssalaurel

The main problems for students in schools today don't involve teacher tenure systems or collective bargaining rights. The biggest issues don't have anything to do with standardized test scores, uneasy feelings about the adoption of a core curriculum or standards-based assessments. Those problems do exist, but they are not student problems. They are teacher problems and those teacher problems are all we hear about in the news anymore. Whatever happened to the importance of the kids?

Deep in the trenches of a high school classroom, I can tell you that these are the problems students  have:

• poverty, and a growing number of unemployed or under-employed parents who can't provide them with basic needs or pay for driver's education classes
• addiction (to alcohol, drugs, and/or video games)
• personal conflicts with other students based on statements made in cyberspace (via text, Facebook or cellular conversations)
• lack of opportunities for part-time jobs
• lack of resources that allow them to even consider post-secondary education/training as a possibility
• the desire to escape from pressure (familial, school, societal) by participating in illegal and/or unhealthy activities (parties, unprotected sex)

HEY...MEDIA...CAN WE GET SOME ATTENTION TO THESE PROBLEMS IN EDUCATION??? I truly wish that a group as large the group of public employees in Wisconsin would take a stand for our students. Let's picket for an end to poverty and addiction! I will happily give up the annual increase I receive from collective bargaining if someone can tell me how to help my students recover from addiction or find a way to help them feed themselves on a daily basis.

When the Lights Go Out

Image Credit: Flickr/Joriel "Joz" Jimenez

I came across a blog post from the Daily Kos in my Google Reader feed. It was entitled I Don't Want to be a Teacher Any More by writer thalli1, a veteran teacher who recently came to the realization that ever-dwindling resources coupled with ever-growing prescribed curriculum mandates and job duties just don't make teaching worth it anymore for her. She describes in detail the challenges that teachers face each day and says, "then one Thursday, on the eighth day of my 35th year of teaching, I suddenly thought for the very first time ever, 'I don’t want to be a teacher anymore.'  It’s so weird how it just came over me like that."

This post struck a chord with a lot of people. I've read countless blog posts and articles about teachers who are fed up with the current state of education and those most fed up are the ones most affected by thalli1's post. It also struck a chord with me, but for different reasons.

I work in an alternative high school program where the vast majority of my students  come from situations of poverty. Our program has rarely had the budget to cover more than salaries. We've never had up-to-date (or even enough) technology, never had a custodian who works even half-time, and never had a majority of kids come to school well-fed and well-supported. It has always been part of my job to clean my classroom, unplug clogged toilets, shovel snow, serve lunch and chauffeur my students around. Part of me wants to tell thalli1 to buck up: welcome to the real world! 42% of kids in the U.S. live in poverty and almost half of the teachers in this country have been doing what you're complaining about for their entire teaching careers!  But there's another part of me that is just so saddened to read about thalli1's grief. She is losing something in life that she loves--her passion for teaching. I can't imagine how it would feel to lose my passion.

I have seen the light go out in the eyes of veteran teachers. I have told myself that I will have the common sense to take myself out of the game before it happens to me. I don't want to be the old quarterback clinging to the thrill of the game even though I can no longer make the plays. But when the time comes, how will I know? How will I know that I am failing my students? Will I be able to resist the lure of the full pension, the 600 sick days, the 35 year pin? I hope that I have the good sense to get out before number of years on the job becomes more important than the lives of the kids in my classroom.

We're Human Beings First

Here is my response to an Education Week tweet posting a blog from Edutopia blogger, Ben Johnson. This comment is originally posted along with many others on Edutopia. Links to the original articles are here:

Teachers Are Not Social Workers - Teaching Now - Education Week Teacher http://bit.ly/i0qSyY

The Most Important Need: The Need to Learn | Edutopia http://bit.ly/f4aUFL  by Ben Johnson 

"I remember a student who came to school with bullet holes in his coat and limped around with an injured leg. I asked him about it and he shrugged it off saying something about if it was his time to go, then, oh well." --Ben Johnson

Last week this quote ran, albeit out of context, in a short blog that appeared in Education Week. Later, that Education Week blog was tweeted by someone I follow--still out of context. Prior to reading your full blog, Ben, it bothered me immensely to read it because for me this quote represents the crux of so many problems in our society right now. We don't put people first. 

Earlier comments about cell phone assumptions and roadside assistance touch on it, but I think the problem goes much deeper than that and can be found in every aspect of American life right now. We choose to threaten and criticize each other rather than to offer help and assistance. The negativity occurs in situations involving celebrities like Michael Vick, Sarah Palin and President Obama; in response to the shootings in Tucson; and in situations with the people in our classrooms and towns. When someone cuts us off in traffic we scream out names and obscenities. If someone stands on the side of the road with a sign begging for money we view them as animals. When a student comes into our classroom riddled with bullet holes, we keep teaching. 


Now, I've read your entire blog and I see some of the context that was missing in the Education Week snippet. I now have the full picture, but I am bothered only slightly less than I was before reading the whole post. You did ask the student if he was okay. And I think that you are right about training future teachers--they should not go digging into their students lives looking for problems to solve. But if a problem walks into the classroom, a problem like a student riddled with bullet holes, I think it is their responsibility as human beings to try to help. Helping students in need is important because doing so models a critical lesson that we all need to learn: human beings are important. People are our most important resource. Show your students that in your classroom they come first. Perhaps if that lesson were modeled more often, young people wouldn't be so quick to shoot each other.


Does this mean that the whole class should be disrupted in order to help one student? Sometimes. It really depends on the student and the situation. I have interrupted the learning environment in my classroom to deal with students' issues in the past and I am sure I will do it again--because my classroom is a cooperative of individuals. Each individual contributes to the whole. When one of them is suffering, we all suffer. We teach each other and we learn together. We are both a team and a family.


Now that I have read the quote in context, I have a better grasp of your main point, but I still have a question: whatever happened to the young man with the bullet holes in his clothing? Did the learning environment you created and maintained on that day lead him to graduate from high school, go on to lead a productive life? Or did he end up with a final, "oh well" because it was his time?