Teaching: FInding the New

I remember when--and maybe this still happens--people looked upon a job in education as "safe."

Once you get in, the conventional wisdom went, you'd be safe. Tenure and all that. The payoff after paying your dues. You could plan it out once and be done, and do the same thing in class week after week, year after year. (Some teachers really do this. I personally couldn't live this way.)

What's wrong with doing it right the first time? If it's really right, you never need to change it, do you?

This is what non-teachers probably think teachers do. But it's usually not the case. It should not be the case--not anymore.

In the enrichment school where I teach on weekends, we train students to ace the SAT. "One and done," is the mantra. (There is also, "Hit it hard and get the hell out of there.")

If you've studied your tush off, you can ideally take the official SAT once, score very well, and never take it again. That's how it went for me in high school, and if the work is boring (let's be honest: the SAT is not fun), this is a good tactic. Knowing there's relief and respite makes the hard work tolerable.

Yet even there, in a tried-and-true test prep program, teachers study all the time. We take the tests, too--every week. We develop new ways to help our students increase their scores. "Practice makes perfect" is how the classes go, but even the practice is varied. 

In the normal schools where I teach both high school and college, I have also never taught the same way every year or even every day. I have never had tenure. (I am a private school teacher and adjunct. Why? That's another story.) I don't believe in teaching-as-if-I-were-in-a-factory, and I change it up as much as I can. I do this for myself as well as for my students. 

Teaching is not an assembly line job.

My aim in the classroom, and in life, is to be flexible and able to pivot when necessary. But that's just me. Keeping it interesting is a challenge, and this is one of the things that keeps me on my toes and helps me to be a better teacher.

But a teacher does need a lesson plan, and a teacher does need a script. As I told my college students recently, before they gave group presentations: "You each have to speak to the class for five minutes. How many pages of notes do you need?"

The answer: more than you think. (At least three pages. Possibly four.)

If I have a 40-minute class to teach, how many pages of notes do I need? Many pages. At least seven. Single spaced.

Notes aside--because we are not supposed to lecture these days; we are supposed to flip our classrooms and "have the students lead the class"--teaching takes mucho forethought. Even if you've taught a book before, you still, as a teacher, have to study up again before you begin the novel's unit.

For example, I often teach American Lit, and every year, I re-read Ethan Frome, The Great Gatsby, The Scarlet Letter (and more). 

I worked with a teacher a few years ago who'd also taught these classics for a long time (try 25 years). We discussed them. I admitted I've read the books about 15 times by now. At least 15 times. He said he'd read them once, when he was in school, as a lad. "You only need to read the books once," he said, chastising me a bit. "Don't work so hard!"

Read once? Don't work so hard? Nice ideas, but I don't think so. Not if I seriously want to understand these novels--and a lifelong learner finds something new each time she reads.

We need to find the new and share the new or else we are...wait for it...teaching like it's a factory job.

Groupthink: Are Teachers Guilty of It, Too?

I consider one of the most important parts of my job as a teacher to be opening my students' minds to the wide variety of knowledge, books, and issues that is out there, beyond the narrow confines of their lives.

There is a danger, of course, to being closed-minded or extremist or just going along with the crowd. 

And if we reflexively stick our fingers in our ears or cover our eyes with our hands when faced with an idea that we don't want to listen to or see, we will eventually and inevitably miss out on what might be the truth. We will also lose an opportunity to learn something new.

Sometimes, in group situations, we will "go along to get along" or just get a meeting over with, but in doing so, we run the risk of making bad group decisions.

As I've written in my memoir, we are meant to grow and change our minds. A truly smart person can always acknowledge the points of "the other side," so it's important to know what that other side is. (This is also the key to effective mediation.)

We don't all want to think the same way, after all. I don't want my students to think the way I do, necessarily (despite what those who think differently than I do might assume).

Diversity of thought and experience and life is what keeps things interesting. A balance is what we need.

Teachers--most teachers--inherently know this. We cultivate open-mindedness in our students. We also utter admonitions against the dreaded "Groupthink."

What is Groupthink?

Groupthink, a term coined by social psychologist Irving Janis (1972), occurs when a group makes faulty decisions because group pressures lead to a deterioration of “mental efficiency, reality testing, and moral judgment” (p. 9).  Groups affected by groupthink ignore alternatives and tend to take irrational actions that dehumanize other groups.  A group is especially vulnerable to groupthink when its members are similar in background, when the group is insulated from outside opinions, and when there are no clear rules for decision making.

From http://www.psysr.org/about/pubs_resources/groupthink%20overview.htm

Groupthink can happen with a religious group, or a political group, or any group comprised of people who consider themselves "likeminded," and peers.

This--groupthink--is how we get herd behavior, mob attacks, and victim blaming. Groupthink can encourage people to attack anyone they perceive as a threat to their well-established ideas and way of life, or it just makes people act on autopilot and do what others are doing, without really considering whether that's right or wrong, good or bad. 

Masks make people feel more powerful. This is a fact.

Groups provide a feeling of safety, and anonymity. We all know how people behave when they think their identities will not be revealed: we see this online all the time. From the Ku Klux Klan to askfm to groups on Facebook, people can act like savages when they are wearing a mask, using a gravatar, or simply have the support of their graduating class.

If you hide your identity online, you might find yourself acting like one of these savage jerks.

As a teacher, I am part of a much larger group that generally thinks the same way.

Very few people in this group, myself included, like the way that No Child Left Behind and Race to the Top have changed our schools. Many of us have complained that these "reforms" are destroying American public education.

For example, I am very against the rampant testing that our kids now face in schools. I am opposed to Common Core standards (the implementation, not the theory). I hate the way Pearson seems to dominate education and make billions dictating new rules that threaten the jobs of teachers while hurting students and ruining the experience of school. I seize every opportunity to decry how the Koch Brothers (or their foundations) are trying to dismantle public education in order to keep the masses stupid (and voting for the Kochs' preferred political candidates).

Someone recently accused me of "groupthink" because--newsflash!--most teachers agree with all of the above. 

Is this because we've been conditioned to agree with it, or because we see the truth?

What will happens when a teacher goes against the grain and says, "No, all of these reforms are great. Common Core is fabulous" ?

Will other teachers attack that person? Maybe so.

Maybe we are hypocrites.

Or maybe, because I straddle a few different lines (teacher, parent, journalist), maybe I have a broader perspective. And of course, I think I am right. 

Is this the effect of groupthink again?

I raise this topic now because of a recent blogging teacher attack story. The attack has nothing to do with his blog (are you shocked?), but rather, it happened because this teacher dared to point out that Common Core tests in NY state are stupidly difficult for the young children he's teaching.

The tests aren't hard because he didn't teach them enough math; they are unrealistically (as in, just try to answer this math question if you're an adult) difficult. The Common Core tests, as designed, are just plain absurd.

Sure, this teacher, Mr. Ratto, is against Common Core (for the same reasons I am)--and maybe that's the problem. Maybe that opposition--which thousands of teachers share, I am sure, but many are too scared to admit, which is a fine example of herd behavior in itself--has turned him into a "blame the messenger" victim.

This is what went down. It's shocking. It's horrific. It reminds me, in some way, of what I went through. Still, Mr. Ratto works in public school, and even though his school district admin did the wrong thing (groupthink again? Or CYA/lawyerthink?) at the outset, he was cleared and vindicated. He did not lose his job.

Diane Ravitch chimed in (she is an educational powerhouse who is also fiercely opposed to Common Core, which the ultra-right-wing hopes will demonstrate that our children have been receiving pathetic public education, so--wait for it--we should dismantle all our schools and privatize!  Hey, maybe that's why the questions are so hard?).

Teachers everywhere voiced support for Mr. Ratto, who was ratted out (erroneously) by a Common Core designer or architect (or "teacher leader") for allegedly posting a math question on Twitter. 

Mr. Ratto could have lost his job. Despite the protections we think we have in life--such as the First Amendment right to free speech, which I've come to believe is not what we think it is--and despite the "due process" he as a teacher in public education was entitled to (I was not), the man went through hell. For nothing.

For daring to speak his mind.

I told my husband this story. He took it as "Well, that's why no one should ever say anything!"

Groupthink again? Herd behavior? I disagreed with him.

This is exactly why we have to dare to be different, and why we must dare to speak up. If no one ever says anything in protest, then we will all be like those sycophantic morons in "The Emperor's New Clothes."

Groupthink may be inevitable and understandable in terms of survivalism, but if we remain conscious of it, maybe it doesn't have to hurt other people.

Using Lit to Teach Kids Why Rape is Never Okay

Here is a very good blog posting by another teacher of frosh, one who is fighting the good fight and using literature to teach kids what really matters in life. It's so important to connect literature to real -world stories such as Steubenville (it helps to remind people why we read!).

I wonder if Accidental Devotional's author ever gets attacked for being a blogging teacher?  God told this blogger to blog (see below):

http://accidentaldevotional.com/2013/03/19/the-day-i-taught-how-not-to-rape/

As is mentioned in the article, Laurie Halse Anderson's novel, Speak, is a good teaching tool to use to help kids learn about rape (but it's pretty vague, to be honest--and some kids don't seem to get it). 

Still, some people need more--more discussion, more debate, more material to help them understand why rape is always wrong.

Rape is a difficult topic, but novels and news stories like the Steubenville case give us the opening to actually talk in a constructive way, in a dialogue. 

And until every kid "gets" that no, it's not okay to rape a drunk girl, or an unconscious girl, or a girl who is wearing either a mini-skirt or a burqa--it's not okay to rape ANY girl--then we still need to read these works in school. We need to discuss what the literature teaches us about life.

Hiding from the topic because it's awkward is not the answer.

Girls, too, need to understand that it's not acceptable to blame the victim, and whatever happened, disseminating mortifying pictures online and commenting disparagingly about a victim is like rape all over again, and rape is a heinous crime.

The Meta Lesson

[I love the term “meta,” so I hope my readers know it. I’d define it, but you know what? I don’t want to be didactic, and you are better off looking it up yourself. You’ll be more invested in learning it that way. But with any luck, you know it. It's a cool word, an interesting concept.]

Today, I read a great article about teaching expertise and meta lessons in HigherEdJobs.

http://www.higheredjobs.com/blog/postDisplay.cfm?post=424&blog=9&Title=Expertise%20and%20Meta%2DLessons%3A%20Two%20Elements%20of%20Great%20Teaching.

The article, by Bill Smoot, (it’s actually an excerpt from his book, see link above) is about how the real teaching moments come in between the lessons.

This is what I’ve always believed but never actually articulated for myself.

What is the value of taking a class? The human interaction. The different voices sharing and connecting. It’s not being lectured to (we could watch lectures on YouTube in the comfort of our own homes; we don’t need to trudge across a campus to do this), but it is about listening.

What do we remember of the classes we’ve taken, the subjects we’ve studied?

Often, we don’t remember that much. We may or may not remember our teachers’ names (and I am getting to the point where I’ve had so many students I am temporarily forgetting the names of my first students…but it always comes back to me. I think).

What we remember is how we learned, and how we felt when we were learning.

Was our attention held? Were we put off, and if so, why? Did we pick up any choice bits about life?

That’s what I always remember.

I also remember (now, as a teacher) which students helped steer discussion in a meaningful way, and which students contributed ideas and anecdotes that made me think.

I remember the stories. I remember the points of personal connection.

I also remember what I did wrong, and what I could do better next time.

The article I’ve linked to, though, is also about how great teachers DO, and don’t just talk. The best teachers have done what they are teaching you now.

Let’s be honest: I could teach Geometry if I had to, but I have never used Geometry in real life. Hence, why would you want me to teach you Geometry?

I could teach French, maybe, but my own experiences with the language have to do with learning it in high school and eating French cakes my teacher used to make that I thought were pretty bad (sorry—just being honest. They were bland, buttery, dense bits of sponge that make me feel a little ill in the recollection, although it was very kind of the teacher to try to win us over this way). My biggest “real life” experience with French were the two days I spent in a train speaking in French-English hybrid with a guy I’d just met. That, and trying to have a conversation with my friend Capucine who finally told me,  in perfect English,“It is way too annoying to speak French with you. I cannot possibly speak slowly enough.”

So the point is, I know what I can do well, and I know what I can’t. I expect my teachers to know the same and to teach what they can do, not just what they’ve practiced.

That’s where the best stories come from , anyway—from the things we’ve done.

Nice reviews of Too Cool for School: A Memoir

Thanks for the bookseller site reviews and Dr. Thiele's thoughtful review from her excellent, intelligent blog, "Italics are Mine."

If you've read Too Cool for School (it just came out and I have been so busy with life matters that I haven't actually done much to self-market yet), please do write something about the book. 

I appreciate the reads and the support.

Best,

Elizabeth

SAT to Be Redesigned...Again.

Half of my professional life, or thereabouts, is spent helping kids master the SAT.  What do I know about this test? That it's now less about native intelligence and more about who has the time and money to seriously prepare.

If you can devote a couple of years to SAT prep, you can get a perfect score. What I've learned since becoming an SAT tutor is that basically anyone can bring home the 800s. It just takes work. If you want it badly enough, you can get there. I've had students who didn't even speak English 18 months before the test end up with perfect Verbal scores. How? They studied.

I have to study, too. The SAT was revamped in 2005, and I had to change my game to match it. Tonight, I heard on NPR  that the College Board has announced yet another SAT redesign. Great--more studying! (I don't actually have a problem with studying.)

The truth is that we are all still feeling the reverberations of the 2005 changes. That overhaul nixed some parts and added others, lengthening the test and making it more expensive--leaving many of us to wonder if money was the point.

Cartoon originally found on usnews.com

I didn't mind having to rethink how I teach SAT prep when the test underwent its 2005 makeover, but I have never been happy with how the SAT was changed at that time. It's not that I'm a change-averse person; I just expect changes to be improvements. In this case, I don't think the SAT got better.

For example, "editor" is one of my many hats, but I loathe the editing (improving paragraphs) section that was introduced in 2005. I really think it's wrongheaded on the SAT: it doesn't prove much, and it's annoying for students. Bring back something meaningful--like the analogies!

Adding an essay, as they did in '05, was great idea in theory, but absurd in practice...rather like Communism. This was the Big Honking Change. Of course, only 25 minutes were allotted for the newly-added essay. Not enough time, in my opinion. AP exams let students have 40 minutes per essay.

Hey, I know: make the exam longer! I am joking. I wonder if they'll get rid of the essay now? I am betting yes.

As a writing teacher, I do love to be able to teach writing and brainstorming in SAT prep, and I love having the opportunity to hammer home how widely read students will do better on the essay and on the Verbal and Writing sections.

I have graded the SAT essay, however, and it's not a professional experience I would care to repeat. Millions of SAT essays cannot realistically be graded--at least, not graded fairly (they are also quite hard to read; they are scribbled in pencil. Pens are not allowed. Then, they are scanned. We read them on screen. It's a nightmare).

While I grade two dozen SAT essays every weekend in enrichment school, that's different. I feel reasonably compensated for that work. The company that College Board outsources the SAT essays to, though, pays a pittance and made me think: "Now I know what child factory workers must feel like." I can't imagine that any self-respecting English teacher would fall for that sidework scam twice.

I have also seen how the essays are graded. Sometimes, it makes no sense. There is supposed to be a rubric, but I feel that the less-than-a-minute that graders are given leads to a lot of arbitrary, average scores.

Back to the proposed changes: what is proposed for this redesign? We don't actually know. The wording is vague; it's all about making the SAT "relevant" and "realistic."

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet/wp/2013/02/26/sat-exam-to-be-redesigned/

So what does this mean? Lots of people are worrying already that it means dumbing the test down. 

AP exams have been dumbed down, I know--especially in English. Just read past years' prompts to get a feel for how much easier the exams are now.

Meanwhile, more and more colleges are becoming "test optional" as the schools realize that the SAT is no longer the pristine predictor of academic success that it once was. 

Yet, rampant grade inflation and wildly fluctuating grades between different schools--whether too easy or too tough--makes grades a difficult way to accurately measure students' worthiness. The SAT used to tell colleges, in effect, "This is how smart, how capable, this applicant is."

But high scores don't necessarily equal super smart. They may just indicate drive. Then again, what's the difference? Drive could be better, in the long run.

And making the SAT optional isn't causing fewer students to take it. Students will do whatever they can to prove their skills to colleges, and it's just getting harder and harder to figure out who is truly a good student with potential.

We are also seeing more students go for the possibly-fairer ACT. That used to a West Coast thing, but now it's nationwide, and more students are finding the test slightly less mean-spirited in terms of traps. 

I have written ACT Verbal questions. I have graded the SAT essay. Which test do I prefer?

I don't prefer either. They both give me business. And so does test prep in general.

Still, I hope that the tests DO become better. I am not sure, however, if I have faith that will happen.

Why Do Bad Things Happen?

Today is the three-year anniversary (I try not to remember, but I haven't forgotten) of the Bad Teaching Day that let me to feel dismayed, and to write about this as an exercise in reflection, and as a service for other teachers of writing.

I was attacked for this (you can't imagine how badly, how horrifically, I was attacked; read my new book and find out) and, ultimately, I lost my job. Unfairly, of course--and after being told over and over that I was fine; I was blameless.

When this first happened, I felt only shock and sadness. I may have been in denial. Then, I was suddenly filled with outrage. How could such an unjust thing happen to me? Me--of all people! I try so hard to be good; I work so hard to help other people. And now this?

Classic, existential questions consumed me. What is the purpose of life? I thought it was, as Vikor Frankl, the famous psychiatrist, noted, to determine what one is meant to do (thus, finding both meaning and and purpose at the same time) and serve other people.  

I thought I was doing that as a teacher.

Why was I suffering now? Why was I driven out of my job? Why was I being publicly vilified for having a social conscience (read: being a Democrat)? I didn't deserve for any of this to happen. 

I couldn't make sense of it. Everywhere I looked, it seemed, I'd see pithy quotes such as, "Everything happens for a reason," or "Pain leads to growth."

How irritatingly inadequate those words are!

Quotes like those are easy to nod your head at until they happen to you. Then, I  guarantee you'll find those same ideas dismissive and offensive. 

It takes a long time to come to terms with traumatic experiences--if, indeed, we ever can. 

Why do bad things happen to good people? We may never know, so let's not pretend that we do. 

So how did I handle things? I wrote about them. I am a writer. I wasn't sure I should, for the sake of my health, write about the Hell I'd experienced, but I did it to rid myself of these painful memories, and I did it, I hoped, for the greater good.

As C.S. Lewis once said: "I have learned that while those who speak about their miseries usually hurt, those who keep silent hurt more."

Deep down, I knew Lewis was correct. And that is one big reason why I would not agree to keep silent and sign (as I was pressured to) any confidentiality agreement. Why should I protect people who'd deliberately, and savagely, hurt me if keeping silent would only hurt me more?

I also didn't sign because muzzling in itself is deeply offensive. I will never agree to be a party to my own oppression. What self-respecting woman would?

Am I still angry about what happened? Not really. Not like I was. I can't say I have "forgiven," but I won't let myself stew about this horrible experience. Nevertheless, I did feel angry all over again when I was writing Too Cool for School: A Memoir.  Not that it's an angry book; it's not. It's just difficult to relive a trauma by writing about it. 

Writing Too Cool re-opened, at times, a wound that had barely closed. The chest pain I felt when I was attacked suddenly returned, as did the headaches, and the outrage. 

One thing I did not feel anymore was hopeless. I knew I had to finish the book and release it to the world.

My story is not about me anymore; it's about other teachers. It's about helping people by sharing my ideas and my experiences. I am not even thinking about this story, for the most part, except when I am reminded what day it is. 

Three years ago, It Happened. 

Three years since It Happened, I am in a good place.

I am getting notes from around the world right now about the usefulness of my memoir, and I am so glad to know that what hurt me can yet help others.

"Thank you for writing this important book," more than one person has said to me.

But I don't care about thank-yous, necessarily. I care about helping, about sharing important ideas.

And by the way--I am teaching again. More than full-time.  My career has certainly grown, and I hope that other teachers' careers grow, too. 

I hope that other people will be inspired by my example (not that I am so perfect; I am definitely not) to take something bad and spin it into something gold. (How Rumplestiltskin, n'est-ce-pas?)

I still don't believe that "bad things happen for a reason." As I wrote in Too Cool, bad things are just bad. There is no lesson attached to the bad. 

The lesson comes later. Can we bounce back after trauma? Can we even get stronger? That's where the real test lies.