...and it has nothing to do with the tests.
Yesterday, we finished a read-aloud of The Circuit, the autobiography of migrant-child-now-noted-SCU-professor, Francisco Jimenez. My kids loved it. Following the cliffhanger ending, they unanimously voted to read the sequel Breaking Through.
This morning, I couldn't find my keys and had to take a $30 cab ride to work. I was grumpy and self-loathing and was worried about being a bad teacher because of my mood. The universe intervened.
Ten minutes after I arrived, two students, neither of which are the most involved in the class, came up to me bearing the book. Last night, apparently, they went to the public library and checked it out. They wanted to start reading it TODAY. And so we will.
I guarantee you I'm the happiest teacher in the state right now.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
The Endless Frustrations of "High Expectations"
TFA teachers are supposed to believe in, if nothing else, “high expectations” for our students. Too, often these expectations are equated with achievement on the high-stakes tests. (Disc: This is not TFA's fault, they focus on "gains") Generally, I accept the challenge of the tests and drive my wee ones to surmount it. But sometimes, particularly in the midst of these ten days in May, particularly as I watch some very hard-working kids fail, the tests drive me mad.
I think the math is fair. Some convoluted word problems aside, numbers are numbers and the test-language is consistent enough to enable some fairly specific preparation. The English/Language Arts section is another matter completely.
I spent four years and two summer studying Japanese in college. I was quite fluent by the end of my thesis-writing, able to interview a school superintendent and ask questions about individuality and character building, yet I know that I would not pass an equivalent test to the one my students take were it in Japanese. The ELA tests’ inferential and analytical questions on purpose and tone, the conventions questions on “the best way to rewrite a sentence,” or the vocabulary questions requiring a careful consideration of a word’s meaning in the specific context of the story, would all be far beyond my ability.
All of my credentialing courses took for granted that the building of academic language competence is a process requiring five to seven years. Yet we constantly expect students who have been learning English for anything more than one year to demonstrate the same degree competence as those who were spoke English from birth. Then, when they inevitably fail to meet that mark, we call them “failures” and denigrate whatever teaching or teachers failed to get them there. Anyone who disputes such labels can be quickly dismissed as buying into the “soft bigotry of low expectations.”
It’s vital that we believe that there is nothing our students’ can’t do. It’s true. But it’s just as vital that we start to admit that there is a lot they can’t do by May, a discussion too often short-circuited by the rhetoric of “high expectations.” I have a student who has improved two and a half grade-levels in reading already this year, spectacular improvement by any measure, and another who has improved none. Both are reading at mid-third grade level, both will fail the test. In the eyes of the Feds, their work this year is equivalently unsatisfactory.*
Certainly, my students should not be given passing marks for a subject where they are clearly not competent. But we need to get over our ill-constructed high-expectations and accept that some students, in some years, cannot be expected to pass the test. Such a refocus would help us change our tests to recognize and reward students’ progress rather than simply their proficiency. Moreover, we could then bring the evil eye of sanctions to bear on the point where their progress towards proficiency ends, rather than on every level at which they struggle.
The best way to maintain our high expectations for our students and ourselves is not to liberally apply the label of failure. We need tests that will recognize and emphasize students’ successful progression towards a high standard of progress, rather than constantly reminding them that they fall short.
---
*Admittedly, I think CA's API calculations would recognize the student's improvement from Far Below Basic to Basic, but the Fed-based Program Improvement is an unhappy land.
I think the math is fair. Some convoluted word problems aside, numbers are numbers and the test-language is consistent enough to enable some fairly specific preparation. The English/Language Arts section is another matter completely.
I spent four years and two summer studying Japanese in college. I was quite fluent by the end of my thesis-writing, able to interview a school superintendent and ask questions about individuality and character building, yet I know that I would not pass an equivalent test to the one my students take were it in Japanese. The ELA tests’ inferential and analytical questions on purpose and tone, the conventions questions on “the best way to rewrite a sentence,” or the vocabulary questions requiring a careful consideration of a word’s meaning in the specific context of the story, would all be far beyond my ability.
All of my credentialing courses took for granted that the building of academic language competence is a process requiring five to seven years. Yet we constantly expect students who have been learning English for anything more than one year to demonstrate the same degree competence as those who were spoke English from birth. Then, when they inevitably fail to meet that mark, we call them “failures” and denigrate whatever teaching or teachers failed to get them there. Anyone who disputes such labels can be quickly dismissed as buying into the “soft bigotry of low expectations.”
It’s vital that we believe that there is nothing our students’ can’t do. It’s true. But it’s just as vital that we start to admit that there is a lot they can’t do by May, a discussion too often short-circuited by the rhetoric of “high expectations.” I have a student who has improved two and a half grade-levels in reading already this year, spectacular improvement by any measure, and another who has improved none. Both are reading at mid-third grade level, both will fail the test. In the eyes of the Feds, their work this year is equivalently unsatisfactory.*
Certainly, my students should not be given passing marks for a subject where they are clearly not competent. But we need to get over our ill-constructed high-expectations and accept that some students, in some years, cannot be expected to pass the test. Such a refocus would help us change our tests to recognize and reward students’ progress rather than simply their proficiency. Moreover, we could then bring the evil eye of sanctions to bear on the point where their progress towards proficiency ends, rather than on every level at which they struggle.
The best way to maintain our high expectations for our students and ourselves is not to liberally apply the label of failure. We need tests that will recognize and emphasize students’ successful progression towards a high standard of progress, rather than constantly reminding them that they fall short.
---
*Admittedly, I think CA's API calculations would recognize the student's improvement from Far Below Basic to Basic, but the Fed-based Program Improvement is an unhappy land.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Learning to Love the Boycott
On Tuesday, following the boycott, we had a class discussion about why so many students skipped school and, recognizing that it cost our school about $8,000, whether or not it was worth it. The discussion changed my mind, as I came to realize the gravity of the situation in the students’ minds and came to accept their need to take immediate action in any way possible. After the discussion, I asked the students to write down their stance in an essay. Students who boycotted seemed to come from two perspectives:
They came here to United States so they could work. We aren’t criminel. We gose [just] come here so we could work and go to school. They think that we gose come here gose for nothing. We came so we could getter better education and that our parents work. We aren’t criminel.
Many students wrote about their concerns for them and their families being labeled criminal. They are confused and frustrated. We constantly tell them that education is a great and vital thing. They know that they / their parents came here for the sake of their education. How can that add up to make them criminals?
I’m worried about my parents because if the law is approve and the government or police takes my parents away who would we stay with The government doesn’t care about that Most of all, if they can’t work they can’t eat and we die.
This was the line that I found deeply persuasive. Many of the students who weren’t in class wrote about concerns that their parents would be taken away and there would be no one left to care for them. Given that this has actually happened once in my class already this year, it’s far from a childish and unrealistic fear. We talked about staying in school so that twenty years down the line, they can take leadership and take action for their people. They're worrying about la migra coming tonight.
I’m a big believer in recognizing and reacting to the distractions in students’ minds. As someone who only just finished his own classroom education, I can remember very well how many looming issues can keep a student from complete focus. Being called a criminal, having your fundamental values questioned, and being faced with the very real prospect of your parents being taken away by the police are about as looming of issues as any 10 year-old can face. We have class meetings and brain breaks galore in my class, and I find them totally worth it, as it allows me to demand much more complete focus when I am instructing. I’ve come to see that the boycott was perhaps not, as I initially felt, the worst possible distraction from our high-stake testing this week, but perhaps exactly the head-clearing outlet they needed. My students who skipped talked constantly about “supporting the Mexicans,” I hope they feel that they have done their part and they can get back to work.
They came here to United States so they could work. We aren’t criminel. We gose [just] come here so we could work and go to school. They think that we gose come here gose for nothing. We came so we could getter better education and that our parents work. We aren’t criminel.
Many students wrote about their concerns for them and their families being labeled criminal. They are confused and frustrated. We constantly tell them that education is a great and vital thing. They know that they / their parents came here for the sake of their education. How can that add up to make them criminals?
I’m worried about my parents because if the law is approve and the government or police takes my parents away who would we stay with The government doesn’t care about that Most of all, if they can’t work they can’t eat and we die.
This was the line that I found deeply persuasive. Many of the students who weren’t in class wrote about concerns that their parents would be taken away and there would be no one left to care for them. Given that this has actually happened once in my class already this year, it’s far from a childish and unrealistic fear. We talked about staying in school so that twenty years down the line, they can take leadership and take action for their people. They're worrying about la migra coming tonight.
I’m a big believer in recognizing and reacting to the distractions in students’ minds. As someone who only just finished his own classroom education, I can remember very well how many looming issues can keep a student from complete focus. Being called a criminal, having your fundamental values questioned, and being faced with the very real prospect of your parents being taken away by the police are about as looming of issues as any 10 year-old can face. We have class meetings and brain breaks galore in my class, and I find them totally worth it, as it allows me to demand much more complete focus when I am instructing. I’ve come to see that the boycott was perhaps not, as I initially felt, the worst possible distraction from our high-stake testing this week, but perhaps exactly the head-clearing outlet they needed. My students who skipped talked constantly about “supporting the Mexicans,” I hope they feel that they have done their part and they can get back to work.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Boycott Report - On the Move
In the end, an interesting spectrum of students was missing from my class. Not all were the students I know whose parents are "without papers" and not all were among the bottom strata of my class. I could not, in fact, have predicated which parents were going to send and which were going to hold their kids.
I was intending to make a post stating my disagreement with the idea of withholding students from their own education as a method of political statement, but I'm going to hold off on that until tomorrow. We've pushed our testing back a day (Imagine that!) and I'm going to use the morning to hear from the kids about why they took the day off. Perhaps they can convince me it was better than a day of school. I'm open to the idea, movements are powerful stuff.
Following the school day, I marched with many thousands of others from the East Side of San Jose to downtown. There we... turned around and went home, much to my surprise. I had come prepared for a few speeches, for some organization, for some translation of the massive presence into continuing action. None was to be found. Perhaps the rallying was done before the march, when I was still in school.
Much as I take this one-day "boycott" to be, the march was much more of a demonstration of numbers than a rally to action. Rather than organizing and initiating a concerted campaign until a desired goal was achieved, like the Montgomery Bus Boycott, this seemed to be simply reminder of the massive presence and pride of the immigrant community.
I am still glad to have been a part of the march, but I fear much more lengthy and economically painful action would be necessary for the native majority to begin to appreciate the vital contributions of immigrant America.
I was intending to make a post stating my disagreement with the idea of withholding students from their own education as a method of political statement, but I'm going to hold off on that until tomorrow. We've pushed our testing back a day (Imagine that!) and I'm going to use the morning to hear from the kids about why they took the day off. Perhaps they can convince me it was better than a day of school. I'm open to the idea, movements are powerful stuff.
Following the school day, I marched with many thousands of others from the East Side of San Jose to downtown. There we... turned around and went home, much to my surprise. I had come prepared for a few speeches, for some organization, for some translation of the massive presence into continuing action. None was to be found. Perhaps the rallying was done before the march, when I was still in school.
Much as I take this one-day "boycott" to be, the march was much more of a demonstration of numbers than a rally to action. Rather than organizing and initiating a concerted campaign until a desired goal was achieved, like the Montgomery Bus Boycott, this seemed to be simply reminder of the massive presence and pride of the immigrant community.
I am still glad to have been a part of the march, but I fear much more lengthy and economically painful action would be necessary for the native majority to begin to appreciate the vital contributions of immigrant America.
May 1 Boycott - Live
21 of 34... We're combining the 5th grade classes, their teacher is missing too!
May 1 Boycott - Live
It's 8AM, 40 min before the start of the school day. So far, I have only 2 students; usually, by this point, I have at least 10. I hear and see next to no one on the playground.
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