Sunday, April 11, 2010

Parents Can Make or Break You

After a spring break blogging sabbatical, I’d like to come back and post a few ideas that may piss people off, but things I’ve wanted to get off my chest for a while. Basically I’m developing the opinion that while every stakeholder in child’s education is incredibly important, the onus of educating children in this country is shifting further and further onto teacher’s shoulders. While I’m terribly biased, I’d still like to vent my frustration and address the various stakeholders in separate posts: Parents, Teachers, Administrators and Students. First up are parents.

There were two pieces of inspiration for this post that I witnessed over break:
1.) an American child in Italy (approximately 10 years old) ignoring every waiter asking him questions because he’s playing video games at the table in a nice restaurant
2.) an American child (approximately 10 years old) playing video games in the SISTINE CHAPEL, being completely ignored by his parents and ignoring everything around him the entire time.

Those two things got me thinking again about what (in my opinion) a large part of good parenting is: providing children with healthy, educational life experiences AND helping children to better those experiences. While it’s impossible to categorize parents in a way that makes everyone happy, one of the ways I generally make sense of many things is by setting up spectrum and placing things along it or beside it. In this way, I generally think of parents very simply as good, bad, or something in between. Parents who get involved and help teach their children are at the good end. Those that do not are on the bad end.

Great Parents
Let’s start with the good news. Great parents are the saving grace of education. They are unmatchable supports, the driving force behind the healthy growth and development of our students. They want to know what’s going on at school so they can help their child grow even more. They’re actively involved in every aspect of their child’s life and even if they work two or three jobs they do their damndest to make sure their child is healthy and prepared for life. As I talk to more young adults my age, we tend to agree that our parents’ successes are reflected in our own; that their incredible ability to teach us right from wrong, instill work ethic in us and promote healthy learning from trial and error, making mistakes and scraping a knee now and again were the reasons we had successes in school, college, and in life in general. When I run into a great parent at school, I try to tell them how wonderful they are without sounding like a complete idiot. I thank them as much as possible and usually say something lame like “keep up the good work,” which feels inappropriate in some ways because I’m not a parent myself.

My highest-achieving student last year was the son of immigrant parents who spoke no English and gave up everything they had in their country to move their family to the U.S., hoping that their very bright son would be more successful here. His father worked pretty much around the clock, seven days a week, but made absolutely sure that he was at parent conferences and that his son was doing his job in school and out of school. When I told him his son was receiving the award for academic excellence in my class, he cried and thereby gained whatever respect I had that wasn’t already his. After crazy, oftentimes disheartening experiences with parents last year, he and his wife are two big reasons I tried to get parents more involved this year.

Not Great Parents
On the other side of this equation, parents can be the most frustrating, irritating, pugnacious, destructive stakeholders in this field. There are times that I have no desire to talk to parents. There are times I want to wring their necks because I seem to love their child more than they do. After a rough day in the classroom when I dole out a dozen detentions and perhaps a suspension because students can't control themselves (due to nice weather, bad weather, weather, an assembly, a field trip, a fight or the very fact that they're fourteen), I don't want to spend an hour and a half reliving it by explaining to parents that their students screwed up. For the chronic detainees, I've probably spoken to the parent a dozen times already, given them my feedback, suggested changes to be made and sometimes suggested things that can be done at home (why I'm qualified to do that, I have no idea, but as many parents ask I feel like I need to give some response). Especially at this point in the year, if a student has not begun to turn things around the last thing I really want to do is talk to his parent another time and see the same result: no change.

Hostile Parents
These are the ones that attack you (generally verbally). The buck generally passes completely out of their household and the teachers/school/everyone else are blamed whenever their child screws up. There are a thousand reasons why they are angry- a thousand results that show up in the student, but the fact is that they are working against the other stakeholders and not with them. They’ve let themselves and the student off the hook, which is very destructive.

Indifferent Parents
The extreme in this case is a parent who literally tells the school to stop calling because between 8 and 3 the student is the school’s problem. The funny thing about this is that even when these students leave, the parents do very little to make them “their problem”. Though it is a very small minority of parents, it’s still alarming how often this happens. The students of these parents generally plug into video games once home (or stay outside and do much worse) and the amount of student-parent interaction is dismal.

When I was a substitute teacher in rural Kansas I spent a lot of time in a specific elementary special education classroom. One of the students I worked with was nine years old, but was on a three year-old level developmentally and could not speak. This was a presumed case of neglect. One bitter-cold (near zero degrees), winter day this student was dropped off at school with just a sweatshirt on and was shivering uncontrollably, but couldn’t even tell us how cold she really was. While the family might not have been able to afford a coat, the history of neglect supported a different story. I’ve never had a stronger desire to punch a human in the teeth as I did when her parent did that.

This might seem like an over-simplification of the parent situation, because it is. As I spend more time in the field, however, the cliche "parents are the most important teachers" seems to become an incredible reality. Their importance in their children's early childhood development, reinforcement of academic skills outside of school and socialization of non-academic skills such as work ethic, respect for adults, etc. dwarfs many of the things other stakeholders can possibly do to ensure the success of children. I believe this country is starting to realize that education needs to be fixed, but parents are probably the last variable in the equation that will be targeted, as doing so would mean the government getting their hands into parenting. Even those furthest to the left would be leery of that.

Next up: Teachers.

Today's Wine: While a bit of a cop-out, I'd like to use one post to pay tribute to the carafes of wine we drank in Italy. When we arrived we drank a few bottles, but found the half-liter carafes of house wine were rather nice at virtually every place we ate.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Do Teachers Need Breaks?

I'll come back to the issue of what I think summer break should be used for, but breaks throughout the school year still strike me as incredibly necessary. Many professions in this country are incredibly exhausting and while I have not worked in many other industries the jobs I have done that are exhausting do not compare to the position I currently hold.

In the spirit of taking a break, this post is short and sweet. Spring break should be used for two things: the first and less important is to prepare for the week or two after spring break and perhaps create a plan for the last few units of the year; the second is to rest up for what will be the final sprint to the end of the year.

It's going to be fast and messy and it's going to make your head spin. After spring break you'll realize how little time you have left to prepare students for exams and cram in the rest of your curriculum and you'll ratchet it up a notch. Students start going crazy and/or checking out entirely and your exhaustion level will peak around the end of May after which you may achieve some level of numbness that will pull you through the end of June where you'll land in a thick cloud of confusion as to what kind of freight train just smashed you to the ground.

I'll address how to pick up the pieces then. As for right now, I'm in Italy doing my damnedest to catch up on sleep and relax. Hopefully I've already planned the lesson for the day I get back so that I won't have to do it while in jet-legged fog the night we get back stateside (which happens to be the night before school begins again).

First Years: If you've made it this far, you'll make it to the end of the year. Do yourself and your students a favor and use spring break for what it's intended to be- a break.

Today's Wine: Whatever bottle I'm drinking on my quest to "sample" at least one nice local vintage each day during break.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Lectures and Liveliness

While in the school of education, the social studies majors took enough history courses to be just two shy of an independent B.A. in history. Some courses were riveting, captivating, and some were monstrously dull. All of them were lecture-based. As these were the last history courses most of us took before becoming teachers ourselves, they greatly influenced how we approached teaching the subject in the classroom. As the saying goes, "Teachers teach as they were taught." While we came out being rather knowledgeable about history, we also came out wanting to lecture to classes having not even done much of that ourselves and not knowing a great deal about teaching otherwise. In short, I wasn't really sure what giving a lecture was or what it could be.

Last year my debates about kinesthetic and teacher-centered learning were in the trash can after two days along with everything else I'd thought about and planned for leading up to my first year- the compelling lectures, the "lab of democracy"...everything. As I was clawing my way to stable ground I had to abandon the few tools I'd brought with me for something that would deliver any instruction to my students. All of those ideas went briefly to a back burner and then into the back of a storage closet that I wouldn't even look at until weeks after the entire school year was over. I was less concerned with determining how much I was lecturing and more concerned with getting students to do a lick of work.

After student teaching I had plans when approaching my first classroom about turning it into something like a history laboratory. A place where all the space- walls, ceiling, floors- would be utilized to create as much "living history" as possible. I envisioned building walls that slid around the classroom to act as extra bulletin board space or the Berlin Wall, to divide the class into two groups when necessary to promote competition, etc. I wanted several time lines strung across the ceilings holding artifacts from each unit of study and a real graffiti wall where students could use the space to express whatever (appropriate) sociological ideas they had when we delved into the roots of American history. I'd seen pictures of the classrooms of other teachers that came out of my school of education who turned their workspace into a workshop for social studies and I wanted to create something to blow them all out of the water. History was to be anything but a series of lectures where a guy stands at the front of the room and reads from his notes.

After I stood back up at the end of last year and dusted off my rump, I got to thinking about teaching again, but with a far larger dose of reality to go on. Something I didn't see back in the school of education was that well-placed lectures are educational. Perhaps students won't retain enough of it to score high on a quiz of every detail, but to lecture effectively, to tell a story and get students to listen to an adult for more than five minutes at length, is something majestic and difficult- and it can certainly be educational. To be quite honest I can't recall much of the information presented to me in the most inspiring lectures I've attended. The point was less the specific pieces of information given and more the motivation I felt leaving the hall where I listened to someone speak. It was less about learning line-item facts and more about wanting to do something- having the very real desire to act- once I left the lecture hall. That is what a large part of education is supposed to be about- not just learning facts to spout when it's convenient and appropriate but gaining the desire to do something meaningful with your life.

At this point in my second year I'm not sure what I want to do with the idea of the lecture, but I still feel it definitely has its place in the classroom. Granted, I don't think it should be the most common mode of instructional delivery, nor even used on a very frequent basis. When students are listening at length to what you have to say where I teach (and perhaps most places), you get the feeling that the time cannot be wasted and that you damn well better utilize it to drive home a larger point about social studies and life in general.

Today's Wine: A generic red from an Asian fusion place up the street. I've been a bit dry this past week- perhaps in anticipation of a trip to Italy that begins the minute school is out this Friday.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Democracy = Conference Proposals?

Looking for a good time? Looking to improve your research and writing skills and perhaps do some traveling in the meantime? Are you interested in determining what will be taught in history classes around the country? Hi. I'm Nick James and I'm here today to tell you about my work with the National Council for the Social Studies (NCSS). I've been a card-carrying member for the past handful of years. In that time I've traveled to foreign lands (Kansas), made new friends, and had barrels of laughs.

I got my membership renewal bill in the mail today. The reason I joined this organization was not because I thought it would bring me any more knowledge than my time in the school of education, it was because my revered adviser wanted to bring me along to a conference a number of years ago and I had to be a member to go. Since that time I've attended the annual conference every year, seeing Washington D.C., San Diego, Houston, and Atlanta along the way. My approach each year has varied from "must learn and attend as many lectures as possible" to "let's present and then walk around on a real aircraft carrier and then drink a bottle of wine on the beach." At any rate, it's been a good time getting around some major cities in this country that I might not have seen otherwise. I've also been on the ticket of a proposal every year that was accepted to be presented at the conference, which of course was a major draw to go.

Last year I signed up to review the conference proposals that people submit to the organization. What this means is that I rate about thirteen proposals and send the feedback to the conference committee for final approval. I can write "definitely reject" or "definitely accept" and have considerable sway in terms of what gets in or what doesn't. It, of course, makes me feel very powerful and excited to be determining what the leading social studies organization showcases at its national conference, though I'm not incredibly sure of the exact impact I have on the field or system.

At any rate, reviewing proposals strikes me as being very active in my field. In an education system where support for social studies is waning in the shadow of falling literacy levels, the job of figuring out what should be taught in history classes may be more important than ever. As NCSS (as well as other subject-specific national organizations) does have some sway in helping states determine their content standards, taking up the torch as a member, while at times uninterested, seemingly pointless, and mundane, is something that more people should do.

Much like the democracy we live in, if you do not show up to vote you have very little say in what happens to you. Many people complain that voting has no effect anyway, but that's in large part due to the fact that so many people think it doesn't matter. I'm of the opinion that you should vote first and then work to change the system if you're displeased with it. If you do not make your voice heard in the forum that's been designed to do so and then simply complain all the time about social/educational ills, your voice oftentimes loses all its power.

My Advice: Join your content area's national organization. Stay current on what's going on in the field. Don't just complain about what's happening around you in the wide world of education, actively work to make a difference in it. Doing what you think is best in your own classroom is fine and well, but it stops at the door if you don't take your ideas into a larger context. And I don't mean the staff lounge.

Today's Wine: 2005 Cardeal Dao Colheita Seleccionada. This was a discount wine bin grab. At first I was incredibly skeptical. I thought it lacked any body and was just a dry, tart, bland red. It ended up being pretty decent. I'm not sure how it happened. Perhaps I should look into that characteristic in wines.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Ed Knowledge Off the Front Line

It sometimes escapes me that people who are off the front lines know so much about education. Thinking that others don't know anything about what we do is entirely ridiculous. My problem is that I bury myself so far in the idea of fighting the good fight I forget that everyone back home has some knowledge of education and many know a lot about what good education is and what it looks like, even if they've got a different perspective. Running around thinking everyone outside the field can "hardly understand" is pretty arrogant and negative. Having conversations with people completely outside of the field can bring you back down to earth and off the lone-ranger high horse and help to remind you that plenty of people know about education.

This weekend my younger brother took time out of his busy schedule to visit me, flying over from the parallel American universe we lovingly refer to as Kansas. We hit the town, got soaked in the monsoon that blew through and had a pretty great time overall. Shortly before he left we went to a German restaurant near my apartment for a beer. Once there we got to talking about our family, business, his approaching wedding, politics, the wide world of education and a number of other things would-be adults generally discuss.

Now, my brother is an educated guy, but he's not in the field of education. He's finishing his degree in business this spring (while playing on a nationally-renowned collegiate table-tennis team) and will probably land a solid job in the next few months to start his career out in Oz. While I didn't expect him to be void of opinions on the major issues facing the field of education, I was blown away by his views that were not only well-based, but not sweeping generalizations like many of the things I even say about the field. It was very apparent that he'd learned a good amount about the issues, had strong (but not extreme) opinions backed up by facts and was willing to stop elaborating on them when he could no longer do so. On top of that, he listened very carefully when I expanded on his opinions, giving him more facts and my own opinions about the field.

In the school of education I was sometimes indignant when people offered their opinions on what was happening in my field. How could they possibly know? They'd never been there! Never mind that I hadn't either. I'd been through years of boot camp. Clearly I had something to say and others should have been listening. Never mind that they'd gone through the system themselves; never mind that they might know people in the field; never mind that they simply could have done a lot of reading about education, which is headline news more and more these days. I was a very nearly a teacher and therefore an expert on everything related to the classroom!

Riiiight. While people outside the field may not know what it's like to control a classroom, they understand many of the issues surrounding the system- much like those who've chosen to educate themselves about U.S. foreign policy know to a certain extent why our armed forces do what they do in the Middle East. To take it a step further, the public should be informed about issues going on in the wide world of education (and the Middle East) and should have a strong desire to get to the roots of the problems with the system. To discourage discussion of those issues and act like a know-it-all is hardly going to drum up support for sweeping changes in the system and may even turn people off to the future teachers going through the traditional route to the classroom, which is how most teachers are still prepared before marching off to the front line.

Today's Wine: The beer in a glass boot I shared with the table tennis champ.