Raindrops on roses...

Casting a Long Shadow

"Custom will reconcile people to any atrocity”  ~George Bernard Shaw

The question was raised in class today: “Why must we specify 'Aboriginal' children,” when citing instances of poverty-induced ills of society? (in reference to a particular situation with an impoverished child).

Discussion was unfolding around the history of education in Canada, and had come to the much-dreaded, shameful subject of the residential schools. From there sprang several, clearly uncomfortable appeals to just put this chapter in our history behind us and move forward.

I understand where this comes from. The current generation of young adults certainly had no influence over the decisions of their forefathers, and would very much like to be “off the hook” for such long-ago sins.

But I contend that we (as non-First Nations people) are not off the hook, and nor should we be. I don't mean personally. Obviously anyone knows that I did not send any child to residential school, nor did you. But I do believe that there is a responsibility that we bear as Canadians, to refuse to sweep this under the carpet. To not adopt a strictly forward-looking stance until we have cleaned up the outrageous damage done. The crime was not committed by “us” in the “you and me” sense, but by the “us” in the sense that our entire society has sprung from the fruits of the evil deeds that our forefathers committed. If we are willing to enjoy the products of the barbarism, then we are not without blame.

Okay, sure, but what can I do with that? What does that mean to me? How can I act on this?

I think that a good start is to listen to our own words and thoughts. Quite naturally, our outlook is steeped in the traditions of our society, which are indeed the traditions of those men whose choices led to a series of heinous crimes against the First Nations people. We grew up learning only the very ethnocentrically distorted versions of our history. Or in some cases, learning nothing at all about large pieces of our history – I don't doubt because textbook writers deemed these bits to be indefensible, and best left off the curriculum altogether.

So it's not surprising when we say things like: “the residential school system was at least well-intentioned.” No doubt we would like to think that. But well-intentioned? Really? Canada was being forged into a nation, purposefully and swiftly. Part of that process was what was considered the “white man's burden” to transform the “savages” - the First Nations people, who were mere wards of the state, without the rights of other Canadians - into European-ized citizens. It was an intentional cultural genocide. The adults were being disassociated from their own culture, and disempowered through legislation which restricted physical movement and forbade participation in cultural traditions. The children were being Anglicized by a systematic stripping of their identity (their names, their language, their families, their communities, their traditions and culture), and indoctrinated into an English Christian set of beliefs. There lies the biggest crime. Within that, there were of course massive amounts of physical and sexual abuse as well, and appalling health conditions which resulted in very high death rates.

Well – surely the government didn't know how bad it was? I'd like to think that, too. But the records are there – they did know, and they did not act on it.

But isn't this all ancient history?

No. No matter how you slice it, it does not come up as ancient history. The last of the actual schools closed its doors, finally, 1996. That is only sixteen years ago. That means that it's entirely possible that some of the children that we teach today have parents who were residential school victims. And quite likely that these kids have grandparents who went to a residential school. That is not ancient history by any definition.

The trickle-down effects of the residential school system are well-documented. If you'd like to see a long list (32 identified effects), visit: http://www.wherearethechildren.ca/en/exhibit/impacts.html . But my point here is that the intergenerational effects – which include many types of parenting issues, substance abuse, child abuse, and psychological problems – in addition to the other injustices against these people - are in large part what contributes to the First Nations peoples' depressed socio-economic status.

So. Back to the initial question: “Why must we specify 'Aboriginal' children,” when citing instances of poverty-induced ills of society?

The answer, simply: Because the 'Aboriginal' part is significant. It is not incidental. It is a direct function of the shameful treatment that the First Nations people received at the hands of our invading European ancestors. To leave it off, as if it is a superfluous (and maybe racist, or stereotyping) adjective is to deny the impact that colonization of Canada has had on that group of people. It's disrespectful. It's putting the blinders on, and refusing to look anywhere but ahead.

That's how I see it.

The Right Stuff

Today, I am considering who has “the right stuff” - or rather, more to the point, what is “the right stuff”? No, not astronauts with nerves of steel. I'm talking teaching here. What makes a great teacher? I am sure there are many ways to break down this argument, but the way it was offered in class today was professional knowledge versus content knowledge. Nobody's trying to suggest that these two things are mutually exclusive (thank goodness!) - just considering which is the more important of the two.

One could argue that content knowledge is most essential. After all, with a thorough knowledge of your own area of expertise, and also of related subjects, you can bring your teaching to life. Your passion for the subject will spark passion in others. The passage from the text that was presented in class, curiously, offered up Jaime Escalante, the real teacher behind Edward James Olmos's amazing “Stand and Deliver” performance, as an example illustrating how subject knowledge reigns supreme.

Is it just me? Or do others see some irony in that choice. I believe that this movie was quite true to the real-life story, and sure enough, the teacher did not come from a teaching background. He presumably lacked a formal education degree, and therefore, any formal training in education pedagogy. So far, yes, this is supporting the argument that it's knowledge of the material that counts. Although I suppose that the textbook author was conveniently forgetting that Mr. Escalante was not a math expert, either. His area of expertise was computer science. Indeed, he quit his job in this field because he was driven to teach, and he turned up expecting a job teaching computer science. It was only when he discovered that there was no such job, that he opted to accept the mathematics position.

If you've seen the film, you will know that beyond a doubt, what made him an exceptional teacher was generosity of spirit (well – generosity in every way – the extra time this man offered these students was amazing), his charismatic delivery of the material, persistence, and an unprecedented belief in his students' abilities. These are not indicative of content area knowledge. They are signs of a high level of professional knowledge – whether it was achieved via obtaining an education degree or not.

So I guess I've tipped my hand. Yes, I come out on the “professional learning” side of the spectrum. I appreciate that having a thorough knowledge of what you're teaching is ideal. The point that text made on this side of the argument was that teachers who have a thorough knowledge of their own area of expertise and of others as well are in a position to create an integrated learning environment, pulling literature into the study of history, and so on. And of course it is true. But an exceptional teacher – one who is very strong in professional knowledge – will not go into a classroom unprepared, anyways. She will seek out those connections between curricular areas. She will find ways to present the material that is engaging and exciting. She will really reach her kids.

Contemplating which side of this issue I landed on, I asked myself: would I rather have a teacher who was awesome at teaching but not very familiar with the content, or a teacher who knows the content inside and out, but isn't skilled at teaching? Put that way, there's no question ... I'd take the one who really reaches the kids – hands down – every time.

The Flipped Classroom

Love this ... take a look:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-y9vR7YTak&feature=relmfu

And here's one teacher who uses it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aGuLuipTwg&feature=related


Great idea for older kids, I'm thinking.

Looking at the Code of Professional Practice

~ Helen Lovejoy, The Simpsons

For those who may be unfamiliar with the Manitoba Teachers’ Society Code of Professional Practice, it can be read here: http://www.mbteach.org/inside-mts/professionalcode.html.

On reading through the Code, a few of the articles struck me as especially important, and in harmony with my own beliefs about teaching. These are:

• #1 A teacher’s first professional responsibility is to her or his students.

• #4 A teacher speaks and acts with respect and dignity, and deals judiciously with others, always mindful of their rights.

• #10 A teacher makes an ongoing effort to improve professionally.

These sections of the Code speak to me as a teacher who takes the profession seriously and considers the students to be as valuable as any other person on the educational spectrum. I view this document as serving several purposes. In part, it protects the rights of teachers. In part, it protects the students. And finally, it protects the Union.

I know that protecting the Union is part of a union’s raison d’etre. I was a labour activist for many years, and understand the purpose of all of this. To me, these sections are functional, but not really discussion-inspiring.

I also know - although I find it somehow unsettling that it was necessary to dictate this so specifically -  how important it is to have a respectful work environment, and deal with things through the proper channels. Admittedly, the specificity of these areas of the Code took me aback somewhat - there seems an almost conspiratorial flavour to this. But that's another story.

In the end, I would really like to think that the Code is ultimately there to protect and serve the student body. Children in our society at large have so little power – it is their rights which need to be guarded.

Having said that, there are a couple of other sections of the Code that I’d like to take a look at. There was a discussion in class surrounding Article 5, which deals with maintaining confidentiality. Specifically, the question was being tossed around, “Is it appropriate to talk about the students with other teachers in the staff room?” The answer, as one might anticipate, was not a cut-and-dried yes or no. Certainly, consulting about a student is fine … badmouthing or otherwise maliciously conversing is not. No shocker there.

I had to think on that for a few minutes. I have run into this situation before as an EA, and I can say that it made me extremely uncomfortable. In fact, it was this issue, which I viewed as a “poisoned work environment,” to use union lingo, that made me request no placements at that particular school. I fear that if the staff room talk is of that nature, it may signify several things. Obviously, the active participants are jaded, and should perhaps consider a different career, or at least a break from this one. But even the remaining staff members – what does this tell us about them? If the negative talk is so entrenched in their daily life, are they becoming desensitized to it? If it was a different sort of inappropriate talk – say someone using racist language, or inappropriate sexual references – I feel confident that people in that room would have objected. Yet, to sit silent in the wake of this barrage of negativity directed toward one or two students – I fear that it means it’s just not that troubling to them. I am grateful that there is language in the Code addressing this issue (indeed, this falls under at least three of the articles), but simply having those protections in the Code is not enough. As teachers, it is important to uphold the Code, particularly when someone stands to be hurt by the actions taken.

Now, I know that I have already said Article 10 is one of the ones which really stands out for me. Allow me to backtrack, and offer more on that subject. This section refers to a teacher’s responsibility to continue to improve professionally. As a student in the after-degree program, I am disappointed that there aren’t more opportunities to take elective courses. There are several that I’d love to take, yet no time in which to do it. So, I take as many Professional Development offerings as I can, and look forward to the PD opportunities in the workplace.

But I am concerned about the level of enthusiasm that some teachers seem to be displaying. I noticed that, when I signed up late for SAGE, several of the more desirable courses were full. And don’t get me wrong – that morning, there were hundreds of teachers lined up to get into their PD sessions. But alarmingly, there were a lot of half-empty classrooms. I was disconcerted to see this – my initial thought, admittedly, was that I’d have liked a spot in some of those classrooms – but promptly after, I started thinking about the implications. Where were those teachers? Not at their PD sessions. Was this a common practice? It alarms me when teachers aren’t enthusiastic about the PD offerings. I completely understand that if they are veteran teachers, many of those PDs will be ones they’ve taken already. But still – aren’t there new PDs offered every year? Or mightn’t you want a refresher if it’s been fifteen years since you took something?  Knowing that this is not just an issue of ethics, but is actually an requirement in the Code, I would really like to see this issue addressed. Mostly, I would like to somehow instill the missing enthusiasm back into those teachers, and see them really benefit from fresh information.

I guess once I have my magical enthusiasm-instilling machine, I can do that. In the mean time, I will continue to focus where I believe a teacher’s primary focus should be: on her students.

Here's to You

What the teacher is, is more important than what he teaches.
~ Karl Menninger ~

The questions have been posed: “Who was your most inspiring teacher? What teacher gave you the energy to be your best? Whose classroom was ‘life giving’?”

I’ve had some really outstanding university professors. I could probably pick one of those and call it a day. But I know that – for many reasons – that would not address the question. There is one obvious choice for the teacher who made the most impact on my life. If honouring him means dredging up some unpleasant things, I suppose that he’s worth my doing that.

My teenage years were a veritable train wreck. I will spare you all the gory details. Rebellion turned into defiance which ultimately turned into loss of interest in school altogether, and dropping out. Twice, in case I hadn’t made my point the first time.

But while I was still in school, I had a couple of teachers who really shouldn’t be teachers, lots of decent but unremarkable ones, a couple of outstanding ones, and this one, truly phenomenal one: Mr. Tapp.

Bill Tapp was a teacher who was unlike any I’d come across. His teaching approach was unique (in my experience at the time, anyways), and meshed so well with who he was as a person.

Mr. Tapp taught English. He did the odd exercise or lesson class-wide, in the usual fashion, but mostly, he taught individually. He was very knowledgeable about his field – literature – and  took the time to know his students. That combination enabled him to choose books for each student that really fit. Some of my favourite books to this day were his selections. They might not be if I came across them today for the first time – my connection to those books is probably because they were his selections, and were so perfect at the time. Mostly, his classroom was very quiet – a class full of reading students, plus himself and one student quietly convening at his desk.

That was how he taught.

Who he was … he was the extremely rare (I’m sorry to say) high school teacher who was genuinely respectful of his students. Although I don't necessarily think this is required in order to show respect, but he did address his students by title and surname. I look at that as an overt sign of respect, perhaps to immediately distinguish himself from some of his colleagues. He was compassionate, and willing to help far beyond the scope of his English teacher role. He saw his students as fellow human beings, and shared of himself. He knew a great deal about my life outside the classroom, and indeed shared some of his as well. It's sad that seeing students as human beings is notable. Maybe things have changed since 1980. I hope.

As I mentioned earlier, my adolescence was a disaster. I seldom went to school ... his class was one of the few things that drew me to school. I am not particularly eager to revisit those days here in any detail - but when my prof asked us whether there was a classroom which was "life giving," I'm sure she did not have a literal interpretation in mind. Yet it is quite possible that his role in my life at that time - one person who was supportive, actively helped, and believed in me - was more than life giving, in fact it may have been life saving.

As an adult, I did look him up once. It wasn’t too long after I left school, though at the time, it felt like an eternity. I was maybe twenty. We enjoyed a cold beer together, and a warm conversation. Just lately, my high school has been in danger of closing, so there’s been a fair bit of media surrounding it. (It’s one of the oldest high schools in the country, and there are other reasons it’s the subject of a genuine fury over the closure – if you google “PCVS closure” you’ll get the scoop). All that buzz about the school and its history, of course, made me think of Mr. Tapp. I searched the internet, Facebook, etc. – with no luck. Maybe he's still around somewhere, maybe not.

Here’s to you, Bill Tapp, wherever you are, for making a huge difference in my life. I would love to think that I, in turn, can make that kind of difference for my students.

So ... I've Gotta See a Man About a Fish

The Pike Place Fish Market in Seattle is known for its fish, sure, but moreso for its high energy, motivational workplace philosophy. There are fishmongers there chucking giant whitefish to one another, laughing, kidding around. And what makes it so fun? Certainly not the hours, the working conditions, or, I'm guessing, their wages ... it's their conscious choice to make it that way.

I've encountered this fish market and its philosophy before somewhere ... I don't think the video was the same, and I recall literally no specifics about where or when I saw it – but I do remember the overall message. It is a powerful one, and one which anyone would be wise to consider: this is your life – make the most of it. At least, that's the lasting message I take away from the fish people.

Considering the fish model, our class has been tasked with finding ways to bring a more positive, vibrant overall tone to the room, and to our school experience in general. It's a great idea, and one which I hope we grab hold of and run with. I think one group this morning really nailed it as far as how that can be done: only through sincere commitment to it. We could think of dozens of ways to bring the tone up a notch, but unless we're really buying into the idea, it would become a mockery of itself.

Personally, I believe that it would be easy to accomplish this goal for this particular class. I'm pretty sure everyone really likes being there, and takes away from it valued ideas and information. The real stumbling block to a successful class-wide sunny outlook lies elsewhere, and that if we could each find a way to overcome that, the rest would fall into place.

Here's to positive choices and sunny days ahead!

Making the Grade

There's no doubt that the hottest topic among my classmates these days is grading in our faculty. In a nutshell, the Faculty of Education has been long known for its unusually high student grades. This fact has not been viewed kindly by students and faculty in other degree programs. The new Dean of Education apparently has a mandate, whether self-inflicted or otherwise, to reform this practice, and have Education classes' grade spread come out as it does in other faculties: perhaps not a Normal curve, but at least a negatively skewed distribution (i.e., a range of marks with most marks falling above the middle). For argument sake, let's assume that ideally, he would like to see the distribution of marks range from C to A+, with the mode somewhere around B+. That sounds reasonable enough. After all, we've all completed one undergraduate degree, and have been admitted into a competitive program, so one might expect the average performance to be a little higher than a random sample of undergrad students.

Unfortunately, the Dean's way of correcting the problem is to make an across-the-board, equal-percentage cut in final marks. I needn't go into great detail about why this is wrong. Just quickly, I'll explain: if the goal is to have grades that are reflective of student performance, an arbitrary cut in grade cannot possibly achieve this. There are other issues as well – if he's aiming for a skewed Normal distribution, to “fit the curve”, one would not have a universal equal cut. The top few would remain the same or have a very small cut, the bottom few would have a very large cut, and everyone else incrementally in-between. I'm no statistician, so I don't know how one would arrive at the appropriate formula to determine this, but I'm sure someone could. Not advocating this, either, because it would only make worse what was already done. Mostly, I'm pointing that out to encourage thought about what he is really trying to achieve, because it's not the skewed distribution, either. In any case, I think it is completely safe to say that the action taken was not appropriate.

This past week has been transformative for me. Having long been steeped in the standard university culture where grades have a particular universal meaning, at first I welcomed the idea of transforming the grading in Education. I felt that the unusually high marks marred the integrity of the program, and devalued the true achievements of the students. So, although I absolutely thought that a retroactive, across-the-board reduction in grades was an unethical and misguided move, I certainly stood behind the core idea that the marking needed to be toughened up, so that the grades would land on a wider, more customary range.

That was before I learned what the thinking was behind the way (at least some) Education courses are graded. The explanation is a simple one, but I had just never heard it before: they are being criterion-referenced graded. Rather than performance being measured in terms of between-student differences, students are being graded on their own level of mastery of the material. What others did in the course has no bearing on it at all, thus, a class-wide range of grades is meaningless. These results cannot be expected to conform to a Normal curve, no matter how skewed, because it is not an appropriate manipulation of this particular set of data. Apples to oranges.

Now, given that my thinking on student assessment (that is, little kid student assessment) is very favourable toward criterion-referenced grading, I really had to question why I felt so strongly the other way with these undergrad marks. It's not where I imagine I might lie on the range of grades – I am capable of every conceivable letter grade, as my transcripts will attest. Ultimately, I realized that it was simply that, where my own marks were concerned, criterion-referencing did not fit into my personal schema at all. Throughout elementary school, high school, and university, there was only one paradigm into which all assessment of my work fell, and that was norm-referenced.

Ahhh. So, now that I'd come around to recognizing the validity of the grading (and this was reinforced when I realized that the same situation occurs across Canada in faculties of education), I could put my support behind that grading. Right? Um, wrong.

Criterion-referenced grading is indeed appropriate, and legitimate. But the entire university structure in Canada centres on norm-referenced grades. Naturally, then, viewing these other grades, people will try to assign the meaning to them that they normally assign to norm-referenced ones – and it simply will not work. Something's gotta give.

I think that ideally, since it's an accepted practice in faculties of education country-wide, there should be some sort of formal recognition of the different grading philosophy, and all would be well. The formal stamp of approval from the universities would give back the credibility that has long been sapped from education. Significantly, everyone would be on the same page about what the numbers (or letters, as it were) really mean. Employers could go back to actually taking grades into account, along with the other criteria for hiring. And perhaps deans could hold their heads high, be proud of their faculties, and not do any below-the-belt, back-door grade-slashing that even they must know is wrong on every level.

In a perfect world.

Welcome!

I am delighted to start this blog! For now, it will serve as a venue for commentary about the Professional Teacher course I am taking, and no doubt also a place to ponder related issues and themes. In the longer term, I anticipate keeping the blog active as I head into my second year of the B.Ed. (A.D.) program, and then into teaching. Thank you for joining in - please feel welcome to leave relevant and respectful comments. ~Cheryl