Tuesday, September 25, 2018

SchoolWhyde Initiatives

In my years in education, I’ve seen a lot of schoolwide initiatives. Learning styles, cooperative learning, AVID strategies, technology, differentiation, brain-based instruction, writing-across-the-curriculum, critical reading, 21st century learning (which I think may be different from technology, but I’m not entirely certain), social-emotional learning, block lunch. standards-based grading—the list goes on and on. 

I’m not trying to say anything negative about schoolwide initiatives because I fully believe that, if implemented effectively, a well-chosen initiative can transform a school. I’ve seen initiatives that worked well and ones that have failed more colossally than Crystal Pepsi, the Sony Betamax, Jar Jar Binks, the KFC Double Down, and Scrappy Doo. 

Here’s what I think separates the successful initiatives from the ones that fizzle or simply curl up and die. The problem occurs when the change-makers leave the “Why” out of schoolWhyde.  

I assume that most principals and other educational leaders who launch these plans have thought about, studied, read, and consulted experts about these initiatives before deciding to implement them. Much of this thinking and learning happens during the summer, I assume, when things are a little less busy around the school and the principals aren’t putting out fires (hopefully not literally), or maybe the ideas crop up at conferences or other professional learning opportunities. 

So now we have an educational leader who is excited about an idea and is ready to bring it to life. After all, there’s no time to waste because a truly transformational idea needs to be experienced as soon as possible by as many students as possible. So at the next inservice, faculty meeting, or other opportunity, the new initiative is unveiled to the staff.  

“This year, we are going to allow students to retest for a higher grade and redo homework assignments for full credit.” 

“Since we are focusing on schoolwide AVID strategies, I want to see Focused Note-Taking in every classroom.” 

“I want every student to have a 21st Century learning experience in every class this semester.”

“We’ve got Chromebooks, so I want to see them in use!” 

The What is announced, and the teachers excitedly (in most cases) start planning the How. How are we going to make this happen? 

There will probably be trainings. Before- and after-school seminars and workshops will be offered. E-mails will circulated and videos shared. The staff will plunge into the schoolwide initiative. Teams will meet. Lessons will be planned. And now we’re doing [insert name of initiative here] schoolwide.  

Maybe it will work.  And maybe it won’t. 

The reason it may not work, once again, is because we shortchange the Why. Teachers haven’t had the opportunity to wrap their heads around the rationale for the decision. They aren’t all on board. They haven’t become true believers. 

Truly transformational movements aren’t simple. They’re backed by extensive theory, research, and thought. They’re rarely as easy as they seem. 

Take the redo/retest thing, for example. Allowing multiple attempts to complete homework correctly and retake tests flies in the face of the educational experiences of most teachers who are in the classroom now, so most of us haven’t experienced this firsthand from the student perspective. The theory behind it is complex and multifaceted, but it makes good sense. The problem occurs when teachers adopt the wrong reasons for the initiative. It’s not about making sure every kid gets an A. It’s not preventing hurt feelings and panicky parent phone calls. It’s not about instilling high self-esteem. And it’s certainly not about being able to report lower failure rates. Allowing students to redo homework assignments and retest happens because we believe that learning is more important than recording a grade and that sometimes mastering something involves making some mistakes along the way. 

Getting an entire faculty on board with any initiatives requires time to allow everyone—not just the instructional leaders on campus—to ponder, study, think ideas through, ask questions, raise objections, troubleshoot, and establish a unified vision grounded in a shared understanding of the Why behind the What and the How. Getting one’s head wrapped around the ins and outs of any initiative takes time and effort, but good instructional leaders know that the effort will pay off. 

In the case of Focused Note-Taking (one of my personal favorite AVID strategies), teachers need time to understand that it’s not just about the layout of the paper on which the notes are written. Cornell Notes are one type of notes, and they aren’t the best type of notes in every situation.  When educators have a clear vision of why we ask students to take notes in school, how to establish a clear purpose for the note-taking, what are the various types of notes and why each type is useful, how to teach students to make informed note-taking decisions, why the note-taking process springs from research on learning, and how to incorporate multiple meaningful interactions with notes into the learning process, then (and only then) will Focused Note-Taking take off as a schoolwide initiative. 

Teachers must be well-versed in the thinking behind any strategy or initiative so they can “sell” it to students, field questions from parents and colleagues, and make informed instructional decisions about how to bring the initiative to life. Once the entire staff takes ownership of the idea, schoolWhyde implementation succeeds. 

Maybe it's time to do some formative assessment on our campuses to see how well we understand the Whys behind our schoolwide initiatives. Ask one another to explain the thinking behind the movement. If you can't rattle off a list of reasons and explain your thoughts with certainty, ask for clarification, for more information, and for more conversation at the campus level.

If your campus initiatives have stalled out, consider spending some more time in departments, in teams, and as an entire staff to recalibrate your thinking. Read the works of the educational thinkers endorsing these initiatives. Get more professional development. Discuss and clarify the initiative and the research that supports it. Make sure everyone is on board. When all members of the campus community have an understanding that matches that of the ones who are spearheading the initiative, your efforts to spread a practice across a campus will work...and make an impact.

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

If I Had a Hammer

A hammer is a useful thing to know how to use. If you gave me a claw hammer and taught me to use it, I could do a lot of things: hang a picture, nail together a couple of boards, pry a nail out of something. Once I learned how to use a claw hammer, I might be able to figure out how to use other types of hammers—ball peen hammers, club hammers, sledge hammers—which would enable me to accomplish many more tasks.

As I added hammers to my toolbox, it would be useful to know what each is used for, its strengths and weaknesses, so if a hammering task arose, I could select the best hammer for the job.

But what if I needed to cut a 2x4 in half?

A hammer won’t be of any use in this situation. I would also need access to and understanding of saws—miter, jig, band, hack, hand, circular—so I would know which one would best meet my need.

A toolbox with only one tool in it isn’t much use. Having many tools but no knowledge of how and when to use them is equally useless. Likewise, if I never build anything myself, what’s the use of having tools at all?

These three points relate to much of what we do in the classroom. As we try to equip our students with what they need to accomplish our learning objectives, we have to consider these truths. 

A toolbox with only one tool in it isn’t much use. Sometimes we give our students a tool or strategy, hoping to help them but inadvertently limiting them. In writing, for instance, we might give students an organizational structure or template for writing an essay. When reading, we might provide them with a set of steps for annotating a text. For note-taking, we might teach them a format—Cornell Notes, for instance. Each of these tools is useful and worthwhile in some situations, but when we try to force every student to use the same tool in all circumstances, problems arise. A far better idea is to provide students with several strategies, multiple tools for their academic toolbox. There are many acceptable ways to organize almost any essay. Good readers use a number of annotation strategies to make sense of what they read. And sometimes two- or three-column notes, sketchnotes, graphic organizers, and traditional outlines are more useful than Cornell Notes for certain purposes.  

Having many tools but no knowledge of how and when to use them is equally useless. Suppose we fill our students’ toolboxes with strategies but don’t teach them what to do with them. Suppose we make all the decisions—use this tool for this and this one for this—rather than asking our students to select among a variety of tools and defend their decision. We should share with students the pros and cons of each tool as we introduce it and later let the students decide which to use for whatever task is at hand. I’m a believer that classrooms need to be full of strategic discussions: developing plans, testing hypotheses, creating blueprints for learning, and debriefing often. The teacher can’t be the one doing all the strategizing, though. When students develop the autonomy to determine which organizational structure matches what they have to say in their essay, which annotation method will work best for the type of text and purpose for reading, and which note-taking format will help them achieve their objective for taking notes, they have become independent learners who can handle whatever challenges the world of college or career throws at them. They are master craftsmen and craftswomen who can take charge of their own learning.  

If I never build anything myself, what’s the use of having tools at all? It’s sad when kids know how to take notes but never need to take them. It’s equally unfortunate to have reading skills but nothing to read, writing skills with no opportunity to try them out on real-world audiences. We need to make sure the tools we give our students are going to be used. With the best of intentions, we often circumvent the actual development of students’ skills by shouldering most of the cognitive work ourselves. We provide fill-in-the-blank essay templates for students who don’t need them. Or we decide not to assign writing at all. We summarize reading instead of asking students to work their way through it; equally shameful, we give study questions and reading guides that students can answer without having to actually read the text. We ask students to take notes for the sake of taking notes rather than taking notes that are necessary to accomplish a learning objective. It’s our obligation to provide students with reasons to use the tools we teach them, to give them something to build with those tools.

With some deliberate planning, we can become educators who equip our students with the right tools, teach them how and when to use them, and then give them reasons to dig into their toolboxes. Before we know it, our students will become handy in ways we never imagined, thinking of new things to build and collecting additional tools on their own to help them build them.


Wednesday, September 5, 2018

How Do You Feel Today (about my class)?


English teachers have it rough. Socially, I mean. There’s rarely a week that goes by that I don’t meet someone who,  after discovering I am an English teacher, tells me about how much he hated English in school, all the assigned books he didn’t read, how he doesn’t know anything about grammar or spelling, and/or that he’s a terrible writer.

Math teachers have it worse, perhaps. The whole world is proud to announce how much they hated math in school. They brag about how inept they are at computation and join in with others in the Great Mathematics Hate-athon.

I’m sure there are factions of science haters, social studies detesters, and even PE loathers out there. We’ve done a fantastic job in education of making students despise what we are trying to sell them and of making them feel incompetent at doing what we ask them to do.

I’m convinced that teachers should have two main goals for whatever they teach: to make their students enjoy the subject and to develop confidence in their abilities in that area. Teachers should strive to help students form positive dispositions about what they are learning and about themselves as learners.

In order to accomplish this lofty set of goals, we have to undo damage inflicted upon them by educators past and by societal norms about education. We have to erase the scars of bad grades, scathing comments, harsh criticisms, and failed attempts. We have to empower our students by helping them experience success. Setting each student up for excellence is key, and providing the type of feedback that ignites hope rather than quenching dreams is crucial.

We have to show our students that, though the world wants to convince them it’s not cool to read, write, solve math problems, or engage in other scholarly pursuits, there’s value and enjoyment in learning how to do these things. Reading can unlock worlds of experiences and can thrill you more than any movie or video game. Writing well can give you power over others, help you get your way in the world, provide an outlet for self-expression, and allow you to understand your own life more clearly. Math is everywhere, and being computationally helpless leaves you vulnerable to others who will take advantage of that weakness. Learning to think like a mathematician is important whether you’re hoping to make money, run a household, launch a business, invest wisely, shop ‘til you drop, or create something in the kitchen, the craft room, the workshop, the laboratory, or on the computer. Science is just cool. Every branch of science contains something that will blow your mind if you give it a chance. Social studies helps us make sense of the world we live in and gives us perspective beyond the here and the now. There is something life-changing lurking within the curriculum of every subject in the school day. We have to find those bits of awesome and introduce our students to them.

Dispositions are difficult to change, but I think we can make some progress if we follow several simple suggestions:

  • Stop taking ourselves so seriously. It’s school, not brain surgery.
  • On a similar note, don’t be afraid to have fun. No one should spend eight hours a day doing something that is miserable.
  • Celebrate successes—even tiny ones—and be gracious about failure.
  • Unleash curiosity. It’s okay to wonder and explore instead of always seeking the right answer.
  • Remember that no matter what the world says, the test is not as important as the learning leading up to it. Passing the test but hating the subject is still a failure in the long run.
  • Think like our students. Get to know what they like and how to reach them.
  • Let learning be its own reward. Ditch the extrinsic motivators. Trained seals work for treats, but they won’t keep working when the treat supply dries up.
  • Sell your subject. Use comedy, mystery, or drama but not horror. Fear is a bad motivator if we want more than compliance.
  • Play! Explore! Tinker! Laugh!
  • Build bridges of trust with students. Let them know we want to see them succeed and that we’ve got their backs.
  • Take moments to step away from the curriculum to share something interesting about the subject we are teaching: something we’ve read, a brain teaser, a brilliant quotation, a surprising bit of trivia, an anecdote, or other fascinating nugget.
  • Connect. Connect ideas. Connect with the students. Connect students with one another and maybe with students somewhere else. Let them make connections to their lives, to other things they are learning, and to the world they inhabit, the things they care about.   

We have to remember that our most reluctant students don’t see relevance in what they are learning, don’t believe in their own capabilities, and cannot foresee a future where it’s important that they know and do what we are asking of them. Even many of our high-achieving students choose to live in the world of compliance rather than of intellectual excitement.


If we teach every day as if our subjects matter and do all we can to ignite the excitement of learning in our students, we can make a difference in some kids’ lives. We can change the dispositions of many. We can open their eyes to possibilities that will impact their decisions to go to college, to pursue careers they never considered, to add to the body of knowledge in the world, or simply to continue curiously and courageously learning throughout their lives without apology.