Thursday, January 21, 2010

Actions speak louder than words

On p. 43, Routman says that one of the five foci for reading instruction is demonstrating that the teacher is a reader. I think this is important because children learn by example. Most of the important things in life can only be taught by example. A child learns to have integrity, faith, courtesy, and other positive morals through example. You can talk at a child all you want, but if they never see you acting the way you want them to, the way you are teaching them to act, then the message will ring untrue. If a child does not see an adult teaching them to read as a reader, we have no right, as adults, to expect them to become readers.

The best teacher I remember having, the one who truly made me love the subject matter, was my AP Biology teacher in 11th grade. She had a BS in Microbiology. She knew her content, but she also appeared to consider herself a scientist. She loved her subject. She told us numerous stories about her experiences doing research and labs as a college student. She demonstrated to us that she was a scientist, and we loved the class and her all the more for it. Plus, I learned a lot more information--probably 10x as much as I learned in "baby biology," Ms. Keller's pet name for freshman biology. I believe the same thing is true for K-12 readers--if they see me as a reader, than they will learn more and see themselves as readers, and hopefully enjoy reading more, just as I enjoyed science more.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Bonding

"You must bond with my child if you want to teach her anything" Regie Routman quoted a speaker she had heard in her book, Reading Essentials. Before a child can learn anything from someone, that someone has to be established as a person to admire, a person who respects the child and who cares about the child. So often in classrooms of the 21st century, teachers are so caught up in meeting the standards that they forget about the very important human element that is part of educating another being.

This rings especially true for me because in my job at the MSEEC, I rarely got to know the children. Schools came on field trips and I taught kids for three to five hours, and there was really no relationship. In the summers, while conducting summer camps, I was able to bond with some of the campers, but especially those that came back to camp week after week. That was one of the reasons I wanted to go into school-year teaching with the same group(s) of kids--I wanted to know them better so I could more effectively teach them.

Another quote from Reading Essentials was about how we all find some children hard to love, but that does not mean we cannot bond with those kids who we clash with. In fact, no matter what kind of distress a child causes us, it is imperative to bond with them. In my field placement, I know there are certain students who I or my MT just don't really get along with, but I see that she has bonded with all of her students regardless. I hope I can do the same before my time with them is up.

A colleague also discussed bonding here.

Friday, December 11, 2009

I love my lab

I love my black lab, Sierra, she's wonderful. And we did not have to teach her to swim. She is always in the water, even in the middle of winter. Icy water in the mountains? Let's jump! Saltwater full of jelly fish? Let's jump! Boy is she a jumper.

Why teach tech

I support integrating technology into your teaching, but I also think that not everything that is valuable for students to learn must be taught via technology and I argue that some things are learned best without the presence of technology. However, tech 2.0 is very powerful for many students, and I do plan to integrate it the best I can in my instruction. However, I also know that many lessons I teach will not have a technology element because it is not my favorite thing in the world and sometimes, I will not have the energy to find a way to incorporate the use of technology in a valuable manner.

The middle school experience

Well, my middle school dyad experience is almost over, and I have mixed feelings about leaving. On one hand, I spent more time grading than interacting with students, which I think is less helpful to my personal growth. I am glad I am moving on to a different MT whom I see more eye-to-eye with. On the other hand, I wish I could spend more time in a middle school science classroom of a different teacher at the school, since MS science is my planned destination.

Next year, when I look at my 6th, 7th, or 8th graders and try to figure out what the heck to do about their behavior, I will be practicing trial by fire. Maybe I'll get really lucky and whatever district I am working for will have lots of extra helpful middle school behavior management. I plan to have engaging lessons so as to avoid behavior problems, but between now and next September, I need to figure out how to act tough and confident, cause if you show adolescents any fear or nervousness, they will milk that and make your life miserable. Not all of them, but a high enough percentage of them to make your days extremely difficult.

I know I want to teach MS science, the content, and I am OK to deal with the negative aspects of adolescents in order to get the positive interactions as well.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Making Assessment Count

Routman says, in CH 10, that "unless teachers know how to teach writing well, student writing will not improve." Her point, I think, is that no matter what kinds of assessment teachers do, if the teacher does not teach writing well, there will never be any improvement.

Routman emphasizes assessment FOR learning and improved instruction rather than relying solely on assessment OF learning. She makes valuable points when she states that most (80%) of student writing needn't be graded. She also argues that just as students need to practice reading without pressure to improve reading skills, they also need to practice writing to become better writers. I do not think my education gave me enough practice in writing. I agree with the principle of not all writing being graded, but at the same time, some students, without the pressure of grades, won't do anything. They'll say, well if I'm not getting graded than why do it when I could be doing something else more fun. Some people have intrinsic motivation to do well at schoolwork, and they don't need the grades, but some people never developed that. How do you teach students the importance of delayed gratification? I hope I can teach it to my kids, but I do not know how I will teach it to my students. Probably, like many things, something one has to learn by making many mistakes along the way.

Routman argues that too many teachers focus on only what will be tested rather than teaching the underlying skills and strategies that result in writing competency. I agree with this statement, but I also appreciate her paragraph later in the chapter that states teachers still need to teach students how to write to prompts, because although it is unnatural, it is also very common. Students will have to write to many prompts in their life: on standardized tests, on college applications, on job applications.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Letting go of perfection and impatience

Lamott, p. 182: "Your unconscious can't work when you are breathing down its neck. You'll sit there going, 'Are you done in there yet, are you done in there yet?'. But it is trying to tell you nicely, 'Shut up and go away.'" 

Lamott wrote this in her chapter on writer's block, and it is so true. The minute I start fretting over if my brain is done yet, if this sentence works right here, worrying about the assignment getting done by the due date, my unconscious works poorly. Exhaustion has a similar effect on me and my brain. That's why I call 11:30 my pumpkin time--I turn into a pumpkin; my brain stops working, it all shuts down, I get whiny and crabby and just can't think.  When I am trying to force something to come about more quickly than it wants to, when I am breathing down my unconscious's neck, I also turn into a pumpkin. I am less accepting of this pumpkin time. I get angry at my unconscious, and I need to find a way to let that anger go. 

I think students of mine need to be able to leave their unconscious alone as well, so that it can do its work. My unconscious, and my students' unconsciouses, does not need constant supervision, just like many children do not really need constant supervision. If you are always on top of your unconscious or a child about being productive or focused, it/he/she rebels, and washes away all creativity that it might have offered. It was suffocated, sheltered, and never had time to try its wings which really probably would have otherwise worked pretty darn well, but since it didn't get enough air, it has caved in on itself, given up the ghost. Sad, I think.