Since I started working in education there has been a general tone in the media and the government that the “problems” with public education are due to teachers who do not do their job well. Well today, America, I prove you wrong.
I’m going to give you a quick breakdown of both the school I work at, and the high school I attended. Just so that we really understand what we are comparing (apples to oranges, if you ask me), the API score for California schools in 2010 was 767.
I work at a school that has an Academic Performance Index (API) score of 649. Our school is 99%* Hispanic/Latino, and is Title I which means that we receive extra funding due to our large number of free and price-reduced lunches (72% of students). Twenty-six percent of our students our English-language learners, and the graduation rate was 82.9% (for the year of 2007-08). In 2010, 66% of students shared their most educated parent’s educational level with the state of California. Of this 66%, 40% of our students’ parents did not graduate from high school, and 34% graduated from high school. As for the California High School Exit Exam (CAHSEE), 59.6% of our tenth graders pass CAHSEE.
Today, I went to observe at my alma mater which has an API of 838. It is a much more diverse school than where I work, although 66% of students are white. Fourteen percent of students are Asian, 4% Black, 5% Hispanic/Latino, and the remainder claim more than one race. Only 4% of their student body receives free or price-reduced lunches, 6% of the students are English language learners, and the graduation rate was 96.8% (for the year off 2007-08). In 2010, 95% of students shared their most educated parent’s educational level with the state of California. Of this 95%, 44% of students’ parents graduated from college, and 32% attended graduate school. I could not locate the CAHSEE pass rate; however, I was informed by a teacher that it was over 90% for tenth graders.
So, I visited a former teacher today. What did I see? I saw very standard, good teaching. I saw the exact same type of teaching I see from my colleagues (who I have gone to observe as well). No difference in pedagogy there. I did see a huge difference, however, everywhere else!
First of all, we have had major cutbacks. I now take out the garbage in my room (I just toss it in the giant garbage cans outside), and I try to sweep my classroom floor at least once a week (and I know it needs to be more than swept—it needs to be cleaned). The classrooms at my alma mater, however, were spotless. Gorgeous. There is not one student who seemed hesitant to put their backpack on the floor (I’m lucky if I get five). I have forty students enrolled in my core English classes. I counted the students I observed today, and there were 30 or fewer who were present in each class. It felt so intimate compared to my classroom!
And I know what life is like at my alma mater. When I was not successful in my physics class, my parents hired a tutor. When it was time to prepare for the SATs (tests were my downfall), my parents hired a tutor. When my students are not successful in their physics class, well, figure it out. When it comes time to prepare for the SAT, a handful of students check a prep book from the library, or borrow one from a teacher, or, maybe, they purchase one.
And so, media and government, get it together! You cannot compare apples to oranges. They are not the same color, texture, flavor. They are completely different! To standardize a test and assume that apples are being compared to apples is absolutely ridiculous. Can my students achieve at higher levels? Yes. Do they deserve it? Definitely. Is it a level playing field simply because they take the same test as kids at another school? Definitely not.
As I’ve said before, back off, people! Calm down with your tests and measurements. Calm down with your mandated curriculum and ridiculous standards. Let me get in there to do the job that my students deserve.
*Data is from 2009-10 school year unless otherwise noted; almost all of the data was gathered from the California Department of Education (graduation and CAHSEE pass rates excluded).
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Classroom visitations
I am so excited! In two days I will be visiting my alma mater to observe English classes.
My motivation is twofold. First of all, I believe it’s incredibly important to keep developing as a professional, and I believe that part of that is observing other teachers, no matter what grade level or subject matter. I’ve observed teachers in my department at the school that I work at, and now I’m going to observe teachers at a school that is almost the complete opposite of where I work. Secondly, I want to see what a “non failing” school looks like. I have the sneaking suspicion that I’m not going to see anything “amazing” happening. Not to say that I will not see great teaching, I’m sure I will, just that I will not see as big a difference in the teachers or the teaching styles as I will see in the students sitting and learning.
I think the disparities in public education in this country stem from the socioeconomic status of our students, in addition to the bureaucracy that keeps butting their noses in. There are few other occupations where the government feels the need not only to tell you what you should be doing in your job, but exactly how you should be doing it. People who have not set foot in the classroom for years, and people who have not set foot in a classroom since they were a student are continually telling us how we should run our curriculum.
So, my hypothesis: the teaching will look like what we all know good teaching to look like, and the students will be an entirely different group from what I’m used to.
My motivation is twofold. First of all, I believe it’s incredibly important to keep developing as a professional, and I believe that part of that is observing other teachers, no matter what grade level or subject matter. I’ve observed teachers in my department at the school that I work at, and now I’m going to observe teachers at a school that is almost the complete opposite of where I work. Secondly, I want to see what a “non failing” school looks like. I have the sneaking suspicion that I’m not going to see anything “amazing” happening. Not to say that I will not see great teaching, I’m sure I will, just that I will not see as big a difference in the teachers or the teaching styles as I will see in the students sitting and learning.
I think the disparities in public education in this country stem from the socioeconomic status of our students, in addition to the bureaucracy that keeps butting their noses in. There are few other occupations where the government feels the need not only to tell you what you should be doing in your job, but exactly how you should be doing it. People who have not set foot in the classroom for years, and people who have not set foot in a classroom since they were a student are continually telling us how we should run our curriculum.
So, my hypothesis: the teaching will look like what we all know good teaching to look like, and the students will be an entirely different group from what I’m used to.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
I didn't want to tell her...
A student asked me today why my last blog post was from September. I didn’t want to tell her it was because every time I sat down to write it sounded like I was whining. But, I did. I told her because there was so much more I could not bear to tell her.
I didn’t want to tell her that I worked so hard, and felt that I have little to show for it. I didn’t want to tell her that it is because I feel like every last inch of anything I have to offer has been drained out of me, and yet I can constantly hear the school saying, “Where’s more?” I didn’t want to tell her it is because if our API score does not go up by 30 points our school is in dire jeopardy of being given away to a charter and all of the school’s employees will be fired. I didn’t want to tell her that while I love my students, I’m tired of the culture of apathy that still exists within the walls of our school. I didn’t want to tell her that I am so proud to put out award winning books and so disappointed that the administration never gave me a nod of approval (although my students did! They had a plaque engraved for me, and awarded it to me in front of 800 students!).
And so, this is my explanation for the lack of blogs. I’m in search of educational topics that will allow me to write posts that are both positive and inspiring. And so, the search is on!
I didn’t want to tell her that I worked so hard, and felt that I have little to show for it. I didn’t want to tell her that it is because I feel like every last inch of anything I have to offer has been drained out of me, and yet I can constantly hear the school saying, “Where’s more?” I didn’t want to tell her it is because if our API score does not go up by 30 points our school is in dire jeopardy of being given away to a charter and all of the school’s employees will be fired. I didn’t want to tell her that while I love my students, I’m tired of the culture of apathy that still exists within the walls of our school. I didn’t want to tell her that I am so proud to put out award winning books and so disappointed that the administration never gave me a nod of approval (although my students did! They had a plaque engraved for me, and awarded it to me in front of 800 students!).
And so, this is my explanation for the lack of blogs. I’m in search of educational topics that will allow me to write posts that are both positive and inspiring. And so, the search is on!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Public is for All
I went to see Diane Ravitch speak on Friday evening, which added sparks to my ever burning flame in my rally against Oprah, and was also very moved by much of what she had to say.
I think one of the most telling things she said was what is great about American public schools: we serve as the world’s model for free education. We accept all students. We do not discriminate based on ability level, handicap, gender, race, or socioeconomic status. We accept all students, and we always will. Students will never have to enter a lottery and hope that, by chance, they will receive an education. Students will never have to compete with other students to receive an education. They are always welcome at their local public schools. And when other schools have given up on them, schools that they either need to pay for or apply to or gamble their way into, our doors will be open to them. We will stand ready to educate them no matter what the challenge.
And we will stand ready to educate them no matter what the directive is from the bureaucratic machines in Washington DC or our state capitals. I know that my colleagues and I around the country will do our best no matter how much money is taken from our budgets, how many students are crammed into our classrooms (ahem, 41!), no matter how many high stakes standardized tests we must administer and cater to. We will always accept the nation’s children, and no matter how steep the uphill battle, we will always do the best we can to provide the best education for their future success.
I think one of the most telling things she said was what is great about American public schools: we serve as the world’s model for free education. We accept all students. We do not discriminate based on ability level, handicap, gender, race, or socioeconomic status. We accept all students, and we always will. Students will never have to enter a lottery and hope that, by chance, they will receive an education. Students will never have to compete with other students to receive an education. They are always welcome at their local public schools. And when other schools have given up on them, schools that they either need to pay for or apply to or gamble their way into, our doors will be open to them. We will stand ready to educate them no matter what the challenge.
And we will stand ready to educate them no matter what the directive is from the bureaucratic machines in Washington DC or our state capitals. I know that my colleagues and I around the country will do our best no matter how much money is taken from our budgets, how many students are crammed into our classrooms (ahem, 41!), no matter how many high stakes standardized tests we must administer and cater to. We will always accept the nation’s children, and no matter how steep the uphill battle, we will always do the best we can to provide the best education for their future success.
Oprah, I will not be silenced
I’ve said it from day one: Oprah Winfrey is a phony. That’s right, a phony.
Shame on you Oprah, for berating public education and supporting a system that’s no better off than public schools are. The “amazing” charter schools you chose to highlight are as good as those “special public schools” (as Bill Gates so eloquently put it), and are as few.
How dare she try to tell us to “save our time” in responding to her show if we’re “good” teachers. As though we have no right to respond to her propaganda for the Obama administration’s blind following of the upper class, right wing educational agenda. Well, I am not going to save it. I will not be silenced by you.
Charter schools are no better than our local public schools. As Dana Goldstein of The Nation put it (and Diane Ravitch reiterated tonight when I saw her speak live in person!): “Here's what you don't see: that four out of five charters that are no better, on average, than traditional neighborhood public schools (and are sometimes much worse).” What should we say to that, Ms. Winfrey?
“Well you don’t see other than special schools, uniformly good results. You’ll see the honor students, the high track students doing quite well,” Bill Gates said as some type of educational expert on Winfrey’s show. Gates is referencing public schools, but his statement can be easily applied to charter schools. The majority of charter schools in this country track students, and the moment they find students who do not make them look good, they kick them out. And where do those students end up? In the classrooms of their local public school. The majority of charter schools in this country do not serve students who have special educational needs. The majority of charter schools in this nation do not serve the ever-growing population of homeless children. The majority of charter schools that are well performing are “special schools,” as Oprah herself even admits later in her show: “…even though many of them [charter schools] don’t work, many of them do.” Those that do work were the few “highly performing charter schools” she used as the examples in her video montage. This statement seems to cancel itself out. If many of them don’t work, how can many of them work all at the same time?
We cannot even say the same about public schools. ONE out of every five charter schools is better than a public school. Twenty-percent. As stated earlier this evening at the Ravitch speaking event I attended: “If I knew my car was going to explode 20% of the time I planned to drive it, I would rather walk.”
Shame on you Oprah, for berating public education and supporting a system that’s no better off than public schools are. The “amazing” charter schools you chose to highlight are as good as those “special public schools” (as Bill Gates so eloquently put it), and are as few.
How dare she try to tell us to “save our time” in responding to her show if we’re “good” teachers. As though we have no right to respond to her propaganda for the Obama administration’s blind following of the upper class, right wing educational agenda. Well, I am not going to save it. I will not be silenced by you.
Charter schools are no better than our local public schools. As Dana Goldstein of The Nation put it (and Diane Ravitch reiterated tonight when I saw her speak live in person!): “Here's what you don't see: that four out of five charters that are no better, on average, than traditional neighborhood public schools (and are sometimes much worse).” What should we say to that, Ms. Winfrey?
“Well you don’t see other than special schools, uniformly good results. You’ll see the honor students, the high track students doing quite well,” Bill Gates said as some type of educational expert on Winfrey’s show. Gates is referencing public schools, but his statement can be easily applied to charter schools. The majority of charter schools in this country track students, and the moment they find students who do not make them look good, they kick them out. And where do those students end up? In the classrooms of their local public school. The majority of charter schools in this country do not serve students who have special educational needs. The majority of charter schools in this nation do not serve the ever-growing population of homeless children. The majority of charter schools that are well performing are “special schools,” as Oprah herself even admits later in her show: “…even though many of them [charter schools] don’t work, many of them do.” Those that do work were the few “highly performing charter schools” she used as the examples in her video montage. This statement seems to cancel itself out. If many of them don’t work, how can many of them work all at the same time?
We cannot even say the same about public schools. ONE out of every five charter schools is better than a public school. Twenty-percent. As stated earlier this evening at the Ravitch speaking event I attended: “If I knew my car was going to explode 20% of the time I planned to drive it, I would rather walk.”
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Poop?
It was only the third day of school, and I was already dreading fourth period. “Today will be a better day,” I told myself over and over again. They were too comfy on day one. There had been no honeymoon with this bunch. But, my students had their warm-up packets, they were to come in silently and get straight to work. But, no.
Standing in the back of the room, watching my animals trickle in (that’s what I call them, not to their faces of course, but in conversation with colleagues), I felt a strange smell start to tickle my nose. Vomit? No, not quite. Really rotten cheese? No. “It smells like SHIT in here!” Ah, yes, the unmistakable smell of shit. And there went my chance at a perfect day.
Immediately, I went into action mode. Inside I was frantic. How would I control the chaos that was taking place before my eyes? Outside, I was calm, collected, and in control. “Brenda, come here. We don’t speak like that in this room.” “Kevin, outside.” “Jorge, take out your warm up packet.” “Destiny, warm up packet.”
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
Oscar, nodding to the student next to him, whispered, “Can he go to the bathroom?”
And there it was: the overwhelming smell of poop wafting off the body of 15 year old Francisco.
“Yes.”
Once poor little poopy Francisco was out the door, the animals settled into their cage and got down to work. It was silent. I took role, and planned my speech. Hopefully I could get it out before the little poopster returned. No, that would make life too easy. He returned, still lightly smelling of poop. What was I supposed to do? I was not equipped to handle this situation. Drunk students? I can handle that. High students? I can handle that too. Pregnant girls? On it. Students on probation? Been there, done that. But poop? Isn’t that for elementary school teachers to figure out?
Poopy McPooperstein returned, and there was a light giggle in the back of the room. I delivered the death stare and it ceased. When it was clear that we were done with our warm up, I gave the speech. You know, the speech about transitioning from a child to an adult, how we all mature, and when there is a situation, adults learn how to move on, silently, and carry on with our work.
We worked our way through the agenda, into my relatively interactive activity about connotation (which helped me make up my mind that this class no longer needed interactive anything). There were many wisecracks and interruptions, and on each occasion we stopped until there was a deafening and uncomfortable silence. “Just make it until the final bell rings,” I told myself over and over again. We were finally under control when…
Yes, there’s more.
Outside my window, at the bus stop, there was a loud fight, the type of fight with a light shove and some of our language’s most colorful expletives. “Just don’t let any stray bullets come through my window,” was the only thought to go through my mind, until Jorge leapt out of his seat and started to bee-line towards the window. “Jorge, sit down!” I said in a voice that was as close to yelling as one can get without yelling. And then his body did the strangest thing. It was as though he was in The Matrix. His body wanted to continue to the window, but his mind was telling him to sit down. Two other bodies shot up, and I quickly got them to sit down. “But that’s my homey,” he protested. Good lord. People still say homey?! “They are uneducated fools, and we are here getting our educations so we don’t end up looking and sounding like the imbeciles outside, so sit down.” And of course, this is four minutes before the bell, and I just want to let these animals out of the cage to run loose on the world, but I can’t release them when the bell rings.
We make it through the end of our activity, after the bell rings, and they are dismissed. And I am left, still held captive in the cage.
Standing in the back of the room, watching my animals trickle in (that’s what I call them, not to their faces of course, but in conversation with colleagues), I felt a strange smell start to tickle my nose. Vomit? No, not quite. Really rotten cheese? No. “It smells like SHIT in here!” Ah, yes, the unmistakable smell of shit. And there went my chance at a perfect day.
Immediately, I went into action mode. Inside I was frantic. How would I control the chaos that was taking place before my eyes? Outside, I was calm, collected, and in control. “Brenda, come here. We don’t speak like that in this room.” “Kevin, outside.” “Jorge, take out your warm up packet.” “Destiny, warm up packet.”
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
Oscar, nodding to the student next to him, whispered, “Can he go to the bathroom?”
And there it was: the overwhelming smell of poop wafting off the body of 15 year old Francisco.
“Yes.”
Once poor little poopy Francisco was out the door, the animals settled into their cage and got down to work. It was silent. I took role, and planned my speech. Hopefully I could get it out before the little poopster returned. No, that would make life too easy. He returned, still lightly smelling of poop. What was I supposed to do? I was not equipped to handle this situation. Drunk students? I can handle that. High students? I can handle that too. Pregnant girls? On it. Students on probation? Been there, done that. But poop? Isn’t that for elementary school teachers to figure out?
Poopy McPooperstein returned, and there was a light giggle in the back of the room. I delivered the death stare and it ceased. When it was clear that we were done with our warm up, I gave the speech. You know, the speech about transitioning from a child to an adult, how we all mature, and when there is a situation, adults learn how to move on, silently, and carry on with our work.
We worked our way through the agenda, into my relatively interactive activity about connotation (which helped me make up my mind that this class no longer needed interactive anything). There were many wisecracks and interruptions, and on each occasion we stopped until there was a deafening and uncomfortable silence. “Just make it until the final bell rings,” I told myself over and over again. We were finally under control when…
Yes, there’s more.
Outside my window, at the bus stop, there was a loud fight, the type of fight with a light shove and some of our language’s most colorful expletives. “Just don’t let any stray bullets come through my window,” was the only thought to go through my mind, until Jorge leapt out of his seat and started to bee-line towards the window. “Jorge, sit down!” I said in a voice that was as close to yelling as one can get without yelling. And then his body did the strangest thing. It was as though he was in The Matrix. His body wanted to continue to the window, but his mind was telling him to sit down. Two other bodies shot up, and I quickly got them to sit down. “But that’s my homey,” he protested. Good lord. People still say homey?! “They are uneducated fools, and we are here getting our educations so we don’t end up looking and sounding like the imbeciles outside, so sit down.” And of course, this is four minutes before the bell, and I just want to let these animals out of the cage to run loose on the world, but I can’t release them when the bell rings.
We make it through the end of our activity, after the bell rings, and they are dismissed. And I am left, still held captive in the cage.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sound Byte
My eleventh graders and I have been reading JD Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye together. The other day they were working on figuring out what Holden’s values were. In order to do this, they had to identify things he called “phony” (which he does A LOT) and figure out what specifically he meant when he said “phony.” Then, they had to figure out the opposite of that which is phony, which would help them to arrive at what he valued.
As this is an important piece of analysis, I decided to review the answers with the class. Upon realizing that one of his uses of “phony” means “two faced,” I asked for the opposite of two faced. “ONE FACED,” one of my students yelled out.
.
.
.
Yes. One faced.
As this is an important piece of analysis, I decided to review the answers with the class. Upon realizing that one of his uses of “phony” means “two faced,” I asked for the opposite of two faced. “ONE FACED,” one of my students yelled out.
.
.
.
Yes. One faced.
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