Shut Up and Test ‘Em March 28, 2016

Everyone has opinions of the New York State reading and math tests, given from grades 3 to 8,  five years of high stakes testing. Students dread or disassociate from them; parents complain, opt out, or accept the tests as necessary in the race to find  “good” schools for their children. Even Betty A. Rosa, New York State’s highest education official and newly elected chancellor of the state Board of Regents has an opinion: if she had a child of testing age, she would opt out of taking the tests (Teachers Are Warned About Criticizing New York State Tests).  Does she know something the rest of us don’t?

Principals, such as Elizabeth Phillips of PS 321 in Park Slope, Brooklyn, have opinions too: Ms. Phillips has opposed them, and over a third of the students required to test sat them out. Carmen Farina, the current New York City Chancellor of Schools,  used to be the superintendent of District 15, which includes PS 321.

Everyone has opinions of the state testing regime. Even teachers. Especially teachers. Teachers have to prepare the students, give those exams, mark them. Time and resources are spent; the joys of learning and discovery are lost; tensions mount. Many teachers have to deal with crying students, some who become physically ill from the stress.

What about special needs students? For years I had to bolster the self-esteem of those third-graders with specific reading disabilities, who read at a first-or second-grade level but were required to take the 3rd-grade tests. They thought the tests were given to prove how stupid they were. Would you want to take that test?  What are we measuring here?

What do you say to a parent who asks you why you are giving their child a test that you both know s/he cannot pass?  I’m just following orders?

As educators, teachers have a duty to educate; to present both sides of an issue and let students–and–parents decide. When Ms. Farina says “I don’t think that the teachers’ putting themselves in the middle of it is a good idea,”she asking teachers to be good soldiers in service to the state. Teachers are in the middle of it. Their opinions, when asked, deserve to be heard.

 

 

Standardized Testing is Like Baby Formula June 8, 2015

I just finished reading the four articles on opting out of standardized tests from Education Week. One writer puts forth that opting out of taking standardized tests gives a message that if you find something challenging or unpleasant you don’t have to do it (What the Opt-Out Movement Teaches Students). And yet, what IS the reason for taking those tests? Everyone agrees that they don’t measure what it purports to measure, that they are developmentally inappropriate, and that their high-stakes nature create anxiety and eliminate creativity for students and teachers. If you had to take tests all the time for your job, you’d quit and find something less stressful to do.

So why do we put children through this? Especially 8 year-olds? Alfie Kohn explores the argument often given, that it’s done to prepare students for more of the same in the future; in other words, BGUTI (Better Get Used to It). (Getting-Hit-on-the-Head Lessons) That’s IT? Because I said so? It’s gotten to the point that rational, caring parents are engaging in civil disobedience and keeping their kids home. Which, to me, sends the message that one shouldn’t blindly follow oppressive policies.

Standardized testing is like baby formula. Everyone intuitively knows it’s bad for kids. Studies have been done decrying its ineffectiveness.  We gather information and anecdotes from others. We can see the results with our very own eyes. Yet we are told it’s good for children, and even serves some kind of purpose.

As far as I can see, the only purpose it serves it to line the pockets of the companies that make it.  That’s you, Pearson.

I know the world won’t end if we discontinue standardized testing. We will always be sold a bill of goods by those who stand to profit. I know many educators and parents would agree: let’s have less testing and  more recess time. At least we all know that that serves a purpose, and it’s good for children.

A Little Death July 10, 2013

I’m sitting here on my terrace relaxing and reflecting on the ending of the school year. There were retirements; some taken abruptly and one planned for a year. There was the Senior Trip cruise around the East River and graduation. This only affected the 5^th grade, selected administration, and the cluster teachers who went to the trip and/or ceremony as part of their job. It affected me also since subs were provided for said teachers, for two of my classes over 2 Fridays. Since I knew the kids, I was able to come up with music lessons that were appropriate and engaging, such as using the computer lab to research and draw their favorite instruments (guitar, drums, piano, natch) and watching BrainPop Jr. videos about instrument families. I even brought in some of my own percussion for my favorite self-contained K-2 class, and got to play a guitar for a 3^rd grade class while engaging them in a conversation on the physics of electric and acoustic guitars (you’d be surprised how many 3^rd graders have electric guitars; girls too!) and playing Freeze Dance with them.  I don’t know if these lessons were Common Core aligned, but in those waning days of school, it sure was fun! For me, anyway. Of course, the substitutes loved it.

In the closing days, there was the usual ritual of showing videos and movies to those kids who didn’t want to help deconstruct the classroom. Huge black garbage bags filled with old border trim and backing, no-longer-needed papers, broken crayons and the like filled the classrooms as children filled their bookbags with work folders of word problem solvings, essays, scientific experiment observations, and more; books, art, projects for Father’s Day, and candy to bring home. The prep teachers still had to teach, and if they pushed into the classroom, usually the teachers were noisily cleaning the room. The best lesson was with the 3-5 self-contained class. The science teacher and I were preparing to show them a movie or use center areas. The students wanted to complete the float/sink experiment they had started the week before when they learned about the Titanic (who hasn’t seen that movie?) and then constructed their own “lifeboat” and competed to see whose boat could hold the most “passengers” (aka pennies) before it sunk. Needless to say, they exhibited more kindness and polite behavior than I’d seen all year. The best part: the winning “boat”, which held 33 pennies, was built by one of the only  two girls in the class. I was so proud of her!

There was the retirement/end-term party, which, when it occurs, usually happens a week or two before the end of school (so some people can recover). This year it took place the day before the end of school.  It was a nice affair, well-attended and with good food. We made due with iPods programmed by the youthful music and dance teachers when our resident IT/DJ was AWOL at a family function. I gave Ms. J a thumbs up when she played “Satisfaction”; that was for me.

There was the usual waiting for the Reorg (reorganization) Sheet to come out, outlining everyone’s assignment for the coming year. The anticipation of this little tidbit of information is unimaginable for those without a stake in it. You want to know if you got your choice of grade, if you are switching rooms, or, if you applied for an out-of-class position, if you got it.  On the first draft I was left off the sheet entirely, creating some speculation as to whether I was considered for a position I wasn’t told about—or worse.  The newest version confirmed everyone’s suspicions, validated some fears, angered some, relieved others. And yes, my name was on it, in its applied for spot: Special Ed Cluster Teacher.  Ready to improve outcomes for all kids, SE or otherwise, by researching, creating and modifying lessons in all cluster areas (where’s my cape?). At least I know what I’ll be doing in the fall. Unless they change it.

The last month of school is sort of like preparing for a death. You have to say goodbye to the relationships made over the year, bid adieu to the memories created during the year, toss out the artifacts and remnants of all that transpired during those hectic 10 months (but save those great lessons and handouts!). Equipment and supplies must be packed up and secured.  Friends and colleagues go their separate ways: to family, vacation, more training, curriculum writing, teaching summer school. If you remain in the same grade you get a whole new crop of kids to discover and motivate. If you change grades, and get some of your old crew, they are in a new developmental stage, or may have family changes, and you have to rediscover them.  There are celebrations and reflections of events, incidents, stressful and happy times.  But nothing will ever be the same as that particular combination of teacher and class.

And in September you get to start all over again.

Here’s wishing my friends and colleagues a happy, healthy, restful and productive (or productively restful) vacation!

T’is the Season to Be….. December 28, 2012

It’s been a long time between posts. Many changes have occurred, including the coming of Superstorm Sandy, which closed the schools for a week, and the Newtown nightmare, which affected everyone who is a teacher, parent or grandparent—or human being. Some things take a while to process, so maybe it’s the season to be depressed…

This year, I am at my old post, being co-teacher with the music, dance, computer, and science teachers for prep periods. I am also assigned to teach each of the self-contained special classes, both K-2 and 3-5, for one period a week as well as a 5^th grade general ed class. With no guidance as to what to teach or what is needed/expected, I am working off the social studies curriculum for all classes involved. Like all teachers preparing or writing new curricula based on the new Common Core Standards, I struggle to provide lessons that are engaging, useful, differentiated and aligned with the new Standards, searching for resources on line, looking for input from others, striving to meet the needs of diverse populations.  Although it is only for 3 classes, it does cover 3 different grades.  Other teachers I talk are writing curriculum from scratch, assessing the students and entering the ensuing data, leaving little time to actually craft quality lessons and teach….but they do that anyway. So maybe this is the season to be overwhelmed….

But (yes, I know you’re not supposed to start a sentence, much less a paragraph with “but”, but it’s such a great literary tool, denoting contrast and comparison, so there, RN!) perhaps the silver lining in all of the above issues is the communal pulling-together that has arisen. Schools, neighborhoods and communities have reached out to others, and broken the chains of isolation and separation that have been exacerbated by the politics and angry dialogues that have pervaded our national psyche. Locally, it was beginning for me earlier in the year, when I sent an email out to my fellow teachers looking for a map of the world and got 7 offers and one delivery of said map (thanks ZM and JE!).  The outpouring of support of places to sleep, clothing and money from the staff to other affected teachers and communities was inspiring. And despite the impossible workload, many newer teachers have joined the School Leadership Team and other committees working with veteran teachers to improve our school. So perhaps this is the season to be thankful..for community, the camaraderie, co-operation,  sharing of food and gifts, and friendships that were forged this year. May these bonds continue to strengthen and sustain us in the coming year.

Happy New Year everyone!!

 

 

Summer musings July 20, 2012

Recently I met Ben, a soon to be 4th grader, at a music show.  Being a smart, articulate kid, he was comfortable around adults. Being educators, my husband and I asked him about his first experience with the state tests. “Oh, it was easy,” he said. Music to our ears. “But what did you think? Did you have a lot of test prep?” we pressed.  He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah”, he said, “it was boring.” Ben indicated that he found the whole process an annoyance and a distraction from other, more interesting projects and explorations in the classroom.

This is in direct contrast to the way struggling students find the tests. They want to do their best, but they find it difficult, and they feel badly, about disappointing their parents and teachers, about being dumb. And we teachers feel bad for them. We differentiate instruction for them with all our might, but the test doesn’t differentiate: all 4th graders must take the same test, regardless if they have learning or language disabilities, or if they just learned English a year ago.

Then my Husband the Administrator told me about a teacher who was denied tenure — not by her principal, or even the district superintendent, but by the DOE at Tweed– because her test scores weren’t high enough. Having observed her, he considered her an excellent teacher,  providing focused, explicit instruction from well-prepared lesson plans based on sound pedagogy. In his opinion, her students received an excellent education. The principal, herself a stickler for sharp, savvy teaching, gave her a good rating. This teacher’s only problem was that most of her students were ELLs, and try as she might, she could not get those scores up.

There seems to be a connection here.

What Does the ELA Test Measure Anyway? April 25, 2012

Imagine you’re a little Latina girl, all of 8 years old — 7 1/2 if you were born in the last 3 months of 2004 — and for the first time you are taking a reading test that your teacher has been preparing you for during the last few weeks of school. Your understanding of this crazy English language is shaky, you want to please your teachers and your parents, but you are nervous about your ability to read the stories. Or imagine you are an average student who is distractable, but able to read well enough. You answer questions in class, and have a good understanding of most of what you read. Some stories are not in your experience or interest, but you are flexible and go along, eager to demonstrate what you know. As you read a test story, you feel confident because you understand the vocabulary, you can visualize what’s going on, and you can make predictions about what could happen next. But then you read the questions and realize you are confused about what the question is asking. Or, two of the answer choices are so similar that you can’t decide which one is the correct answer. Your confidence plummets.

Welcome to the wonderful world of testing. And, young friend, you will have to go through this for the next 6 years of your life.

In the past, exams ran for around 60 minutes, over 2 days (with the exception of 4th grade, which lasted for 3 days).  This year, lucky you, you will have to sit for 90 minutes. If English is not your first language, or if you have language processing problems or other learning disabilities, you get another 45 minutes, for a grand total of 2 hours and 15 minutes. If your IEP gives you double time, you get to take the exam for 3 hours.  Hey, you’re 8 years old. You can handle it.

This year will go down as the year of Pineapplegate, the infamous story of the pineapple and the hare, NOT written for any test but bought by Pearson and used in the 8th grade ELA exam.  When his teacher asked about the question that asked which character was the wisest, the student replied that the question itself should not have been a multiple choice question; rather, it needed to be a constructed response  (essay) question, since the answer would vary, depending on one’s point of view.  (http://teacherleaders.typepad.com/shoulders_of_giants/2012/04/my-8th-graders-and-the-pineapple-question.html) So what is the test really measuring? How well children can spot mistakes in the questions? If you ask me, these tests are no more than barometers of cultural benchmarks. Once, when discussing a story about eating out with one’s parents with a student, she told me she had never been to a restaurant before. She had absolutely no frame of reference that was assumed by the story. Since one needs prior knowledge (experience) to be a better reader, this child was already at a disadvantage. So what does the test measure? Knowledge of white (or middle class) culture?

At the 3rd grade level and beyond reading becomes a tool for learning other things, especially science and social studies, and even math. I remember project based learning, when my 3rd grade class studied ancient Rome. We covered everything: geography, history, the Roman gods, Roman numerals. We created a play based on the gods that involved research (reading),  writing (and therefore, editing and  proofreading),  reading aloud for fluency and expression, staging, and costume design. We learned a lot, and  the kids had fun! More importantly, they remembered what they learned. Now I see teaching reading as its own thing, and content is learned incidentally. The students don’t get to do anything with what they’ve learned. And usually they are told, you’ll need it for the test.

So what does the ELA test measure anyway?

Patterns March 18, 2012

One of the most important skills in life is the ability to see patterns. Patterns help us predict what will happen next, why things happened, where we are now. At the most basic level we see patterns in colors, shapes, words, movements, notes, and more. Less obvious, but no less important, is understanding patterns in events, patterns over time, patterns of causality. Everything is related to patterns: science, art, music, nutrition, math, calendars, poetry, grammar…even thoughts and behaviors. Patterns are beautiful, satisfying, grounding.

In order to understand, or create, a pattern, one must step outside the rush of doing and observe and reflect on the observations. As a teacher I am amazed at how disjointed and frenetic the minds of our students are. You can tell by watching how so many jump around physically, unaware of their bodies; how, instead of exploring an object or idea, they treat it like a hot potato. Nothing sticks.  There are 2^nd graders who haven’t absorbed the pattern of the days of the week or months of the year. I see the dance teacher doing a cool-down where the students lay on their backs, arms at their sides, eyes closed, listening to soft music while she does a guided meditation of the sun and clouds, designed to relax and focus them. You’d be surprised how many cannot relax their bodies or still their minds.  Once, while studying lullabies, a music teacher played 5 minutes of a Japanese lullaby for my first grade class. At least 5 kids were fidgeting, and at least the same amount actually fell asleep sitting up!

Patterns can be cyclical, as the circle of 5^th s in music or the seasons.  In our current cycle of repressive thinking, we have forgotten that children have their own developmental patterns.  Instead of letting the 5 year-olds play and discover patterns of their own, we impose patterns upon them, insisting they sit for too long, read and write before they are ready.  We ignore their individual patterns in favor of getting content into them.  When we talk about making connections, don’t we really mean seeing the pattern between 2 phenomena? Aren’t we looking for patterns among all that data we are collecting? And why do we choose to ignore such patterns as poverty = stress = low academic performance?

Kids are lightning rods, reflecting the world around them. Constant bombardment of stimuli doesn’t allow for the quiet percolation of ideas and insights. How many kids labeled ADHD would lose that label if we respected their developmental patterns of movement and rest, of information input, repetition and expression? How many students-and teachers-chafe under the tyranny of preparing for the latest cycle of state exams, contributing to many students’ current thought patterns that their worth and ability as human beings rests on getting the magic number 3 on THE TESTS?

Our current education system was created after the Industrial Revolution. It’s time to create another pattern.

This is Why We Teach March 8, 2012

Recently a colleague I had co-taught with showed me a photo of us with our class of 2002-2003, our last year together. That was the first post-9/11 class, and we had a rough class. When AT didn’t take his hyperactivity medicine he would dance around the room like a whirling dervish, unreachable and unteachable; he’d have to go home. Another student, MS, had to be taught to calm himself down before he threw a chair across the room. We soldiered on, parallel-teaching in separate groups, taking turns teaching the whole class while the other teacher redirected errant attention, and so on. But among our 3^rd graders was a spunky, hard-working Hispanic girl with a ready smile, a big heart, a positive attitude, and serious language problems, not the least of which was that English was not her home language. Her speech was garbled; she was frustrated by her difficulty in expressing her thoughts, and she wrangled with reading as if it were a horse she couldn’t tame, although she caught on quickly when it came to math. In fact, MS would allow her to help him with the subject, the only other student he would work with, and he repaid her by reading to her. They had each other’s backs.

I bring this up because recently she came to me in the auditorium, looking to pick up her sibling. I hardly recognized this poised young woman I hadn’t seen in ten years. She told me she was graduating from high school in June, and was considering which city college to attend to study accounting.

I don’t remember what her test scores were. I think  she passed math with a 2; she might have failed the ELA or just squeaked by.  Who cares? In our current climate she would be labeled a failure, and so would I.  (Thankfully, LR had an IEP whose modified promotional standards allowed her to be promoted despite her low test scores.)  The point is, she learned enough to be able to graduate high school and consider college to study what she was truly good at.

I was so proud to know that LR has a good chance of having a successful career and a productive life. Often, we teachers never see the ultimate fruits of our labors. I’m humbled to think that I contributed in some way.

And that, folks, is why we teach.

“What DO You Do?”: ICT Prep February 11, 2012

 Every now and again someone will ask me what I do.  I am the Integrated C0-Teaching (ICT) Cluster Teacher, but what does that mean? It’s time to clear up the confusion.

ICT classes used to be called CTT classes (Collaborative Team-Teaching); someone must get paid lots of money to sit around and make up new acronyms when the old ones were fine. I guess the Integrated part means that special education students are integrated into the general ed class, but isn’t that true of  children of all levels, including English Language Learners (ELLs)?  Anyway,  ICT classes always have one general ed and one special ed teacher.  When the teachers go on their preps, a prep teacher (aka “cluster” teacher) will teach the class for one period. This teacher is usually certified in the area they are teaching, such as music, art, gym, science or social studies. In my school the prep teachers teach music, dance, gym, science, and reader’s theater, and although these can be seen as enrichments, they are increasingly being used to promote literacy, scientific inquiry, concentration and body awareness and mastery, according to brain research, not to mention develop dance and musical talent.  And then there’s me, a certified special education teacher, with expertise in developmental psychology, emotional literacy and learning strategies and modifications. I am the constant in the life of an ICT class when they go out of the classroom to a prep, a time when classes of all kinds, out of the range of their classroom teachers and routines, typically go bananas until the prep routine takes over.  Sometimes what happens before the prep affects the behavior during the prep,  as when two kids snarl at each other in the gym over a conflict during lunch. I am the person who smoothes it out, or monitors  the situation, so the prep teacher can teach. In academic subjects, I will redirect students with attentional issues, and take small groups to teach those who benefit from it. Since I see each ICT class for one period (and sometimes two, depending on the grade assignment) each day, I know all their names, quirks, and who has an IEP or not and what for. That’s over 144 kids in total.  For the behaviorally challenged I keep anecdotal logs and behavior contracts. Depending on the teacher I am working with, I am the invisible teacher who seamlessly fits in, sometimes mistaken for a paraprofessional–or I am a  full co-teacher, keeping the kids on task, re-teaching lessons,  giving assessments and grades.  When I am not there, the students look for me; when an issue arises, the teachers look for me. 

Perhaps the best way to understand some of what I do is through a snapshot of a period:

The kindergarten ICT class has Mr. Z (not his real initial) for Music in the Brain, a keyboard music class, twice a week.  In this class is a little round-faced boy whom I’ll call Juan. Juan likes to hide in the boy’s bathroom, outside the music room. Sometimes he carries a toy, usually a truck, that becomes an alter ego, dancing or singing for him. He can be playful, or he can be obstinate. On this day, Juan was sent to his keyboard after a lesson, and instead of trying to play the song, a short, 3-finger exercise on the right hand, he was banging with abandon on the keys. I went over to redirect him, and to see how his classmates were playing.  Juan had the headphones (each keyboard comes with headphones) wrapped around his head backwards. When I asked him to wear them properly he spread them wider and swung them around so they covered his eyes. After 3 attempts to verbally gain compliance, I removed the phones and placed them on a shelf; he tried to push me away and pull at the wire to pull the headphone down. Afraid he’d pull the phones down on his head I steered him away from the keyboard; he stiffened up and threw himself backward. We both almost fell backward. He kept trying to push backward and I had visions of him cracking his head on the hard floor. I had to restrain him to prevent this. Finally he softened his body, and I was able to steer him outside the room, where his teachers came to pick up the class.  He tried to run down the stairwell, but another class was coming up.  I stopped him.  One of his teachers tried to console him while the other took the class back to their room. Then I had to leave for my next class.  Needless to say, I had to notify his teachers and all interested personnel.

The next day, however, Juan shared his toy with a friend in the gym, and all was well again. Until he asked to go to the bathroom….and wouldn’t come out.  I had to summon help.  And when it came, I went back to the gym, where I positioned myself next to a student who was getting ready to chase his friend, rather than particpate in the activity……

Some of it is kids being kids. And some of it is a little more.

And that is some of what I do.

 

Talent Show: Another Service Provided by Teachers January 29, 2012

My school had its 2nd annual Faculty Talent Show last Thursday. It was totally put together by the music and dance teachers; the latter who reached out to the rest of the faculty, put the program together, and choreographed the opening and closing dances. There was an intricate Salsa dance performed by the 3rd grade  and science teachers; a karaoke song performed by 4 teachers all in black, a wonderful musical skit by the music teachers and a music teacher wannabe (he’s talented in his own right, but there are no jobs for music teachers, and so he’s subbing) as well as teacher performances on keyboard, recorder, drums and bassoon. Oh yeah, I contributed a self-written-and-sung song, guitar accompanyment, and my Husband the Administrator, who not only played with me, but also got to play jazzy blues in an improptu, improvised trio, which included the computer techie (a talented musician in his own right) and the music sub. Another teacher did MC duties and provided comedic poetry, giving clues to Guess the Teacher in between the performances. The students were invited to dance the final dance and loved it. There was so much talent, and so much fun. But at the end, I was so tired.

The talent show was put together for parents and students to raise money for school programs, and to show off what’s available from the Music and Dance departments. Kids will pay money to see their teachers act in a non-teacherly way; parents want to support the school and be entertained. Some comments I’ve received range from “Did you write that?” to “Your song was boss!” to “I didn’t know you could do that (write songs/play guitar/sing)!” It’s probably the biggest audience I’ve played to, and, yes, it’s fun to be a rock star, recognized in the halls. I also ran into a former student and his mother, and it was gratifying to find that he was decertified from Special Ed in middle school, and doing well academically.  You seldom find out how their stories progress when your students leave the school. You are thrilled and humbled to think you might have contributed in some way to that story.

But the reason I write this is because this is a side of teachers that the press never writes about: teachers giving extra time to conceive, plan and organize such an event, rehearse and practice the routines and songs, record the show, staying till 8 PM. No one got per session money for this, just the satisfaction of creating good will and raising a few dollars for the school. There was no talk of ineffective teachers or raising reading levels and test scores; we were all equal, all a part of the effort. When I google’d YouTube to find some performances (yes, they’re there), I found other talent shows from other schools. You’d think with all the lesson planning, resource-gathering, assessing, grading, data entry and analyzing, and professional development, those lazy teachers would have better things to do than to sing, dance and otherwise cavort onstage for a couple of hours.  All part of our friendly, unrecognized, unappreciated service.