A place to write my way to understanding about issues related to teaching and learning. (Because of my experience, my focus is on mathematics education.) Please join me as I explore the changing educational landscape.
"Education systems, teachers, school districts all over the world are going crazy about problem-based learning - nothing like a good problem to solve. But they are looking at the wrong bit of it. The thing we're neglecting is to find a generation of problem finders."
The above quote comes early in Ewan McIntosh's talk at TEDxLondon. This really connects with my goal to foster sustainable learning. Here is the entire talk (it is well worth the eight minutes):
I want learners to come up with their own problems - to be able to answer, "Now what?" for themselves. Most times when I try to implement a problem finding curriculum, however, two issues interfere: trust and control. You see, I know what they need to know because I know what I learned and how it has helped me. How can I be sure learners will follow the correct path, find the right problems, if I do not lead them either explicitly or implicitly?
Here is a good example. Over the winter holiday break, I went on a hike through a state managed forest. Along the trail were a variety of signs describing interesting facts about the trees and forest management. The sign below was of particular interest to me.
I thought it had a lot of potential for use in a course on teaching and learning middle school mathematics that I am scheduled to lead this semester. It would provide a great context for the geometry section as I asked my learners to make Biltmore and Merritt Rule Sticks using the information provided. The problem was perfect, but as Ewan points out, it was also mine.
Given my interest in sustainable learning, I would be better off owning the problem myself and using it as a demonstration. It would offer an opportunity for thinking aloud about identifying problems in contexts that interest me - the first step in the gradual release of responsibility. Then, with my support, the learners could begin to find their own problems in whatever math content we must address. By the end of the course, hopefully, the learners could find problems for themselves.
With awareness and effort, I have gotten better at letting my learners lead the way. Every success allows me to trust them a little bit more and give up trying to control the curriculum. Maybe 2012 will be the year I learn to really let go.
My colleague, Robert Talbert, wrote a post today connecting teaching and running. The analogies he points out are effective and I have little to add of any substance from this perspective. His post did rekindle my interest in sharing what I think about during a run. And it should come as no surprise that I am usually thinking about teaching.
During the first mile of today's run, I thought about the following idea that I wanted to tweet:
This is related to a concern I have about attendance issues in my Introduction to Learning and Assessment class. I am trying something new this semester by not using in-class participation as part of their grade. In fact, I showed this video the first day of the semester and encouraged the preservice teachers to be learners instead of students. Perhaps I ought not be surprised when they take advantage of their new found freedom. The tweet was intended to remind me that learning has no bounds and that I need to trust a process that values intrinsic rather than extrinsic motivation. I tweeted it because I know I might be wrong and hoped that my Professional Learning Network would challenge me to refine my vision.
Halfway through my second mile, the podcast I had on got my attention. I like listening to All Songs Consider while I run. The combination of new music and analysis supports my pace and offers plenty of distractions as I consider, "How might this apply to education?" Today, I was listening to a question and answer session with Wilco about their new album. About 14 minutes and 45 seconds in, a listener asked, "How do you know when a song is finished?"
How would students respond to this question as it relates to their work? I would guess the answer would typically be, "When the teacher says so?" whether that means the teacher deciding when the work is good enough or when they call "times up." But Jeff Tweedy said that during the making of the album, it seemed to be when all the band members were satisfied with their personal contribution. This idea of learner autonomy is exactly what I wanted to get across in my #TeachingReminder tweet.
It also reflected the focus of last night's outside observation with four of our student teachers, which is what I thought about during the third mile. We do outside observations to remind our teachers in training that instruction is only one part of the Teaching-Learning Cycle. Last night, the question the student teachers shared on their action plan asked, "How can we make assessment and evaluation less stressful for students?" Based on their experiences over the semester, they were concerned with the unhealthy relationships many of their students seemed to have with tests and grades.
I know that some people have suggested that doing away with tests and grades would solve the problem. In fact, we just read an article by Alfie Kohn on this very topic in Introduction to Learning and Assessment. While this might be a solution, it is one that is curently beyond the student teachers' control. Therefore, we tried to focus on what we could do to help students have a healthier relationship with those grades.
When I finished my run, I saw this common thread in my thinking: supporting learners in developing autonomy. Now, how do I go about doing that? Maybe that will come to me during another run (or in the comments).
I was catching up on watching some TED Talks this past week and found this one by Matt Cutts to be particularly appropriate for the start of a new school year.
The idea to try something new for 30 days is appealing to me as a teacher. It offers the opportunity to inventory my current practice and consider things I would like to add or subtract. I like the idea that the 30 day challenge represents an activity that encourages me to focus on the present moment. It reflects the ideas associated with the growth mindset and building trust in ourselves. Finally, the idea that the changes ought to represent small changes in order to be sustainable (what I call subtle shifts) really resonates with me.
Today, a group of middle school teachers came up with a list of things they want to work on this year to set the stage for continual improvement at their schools. This was the result of our discussion of chapter 8 from The Teaching Gap. Here is their list:
Volunteering more to be part of district teams developing exemplary lessons and assessments;
Engaging in more peer coaching;
Sticking to practices that are effective based on formative assessments even when standardized tests do not show immediate improvements; and
Spending more time reflecting on practice using a structured approach.
Given Matt's TED Talk, I suggested they consider focusing on these practices for 30 days in order to develop these as habits.
That was the question a graduate fellow asked me when a workshop we were doing in class took an unexpected turn. The fellows had been working in small groups to identify important information read in one of the course textbooks. Each group was assigned a different chapter, and they were preparing to share with their peers what they had gotten from their reading. When preparation time was up, however, I changed things up. Instead of having them share with the whole group, I asked that they stay in their small groups and develop a rubric for evaluating collegial sharing.
My request disrupted the anticipated flow of events - do assigned reading, plan in expert groups, and share with whole group. As I have said before, effective teaching is a lot like storytelling. And I wanted to shake up this "story" (lesson) in an effort to make it more memorable. I also knew the larger plot of this particular "story" and that it involved several opportunities to share these chapters, while incorporating more readings in future lessons.
It was not a surprise to me when the fellow asked, "What if we mutiny?" This is a group that is highly motivated and wants to know as much as they can about facilitating learning environments. The fellow's peers had important information that was expected to be shared with the group and that ought to happen now in the typical chain of classroom events.
When the fellow asked, "What if we mutiny?" I responded with something like, "I would love that!" But there was no mutiny and I went ahead with my own storyline anyway. The following day, I thought more about the exchange and decided that a mutiny fit well with the next lessons' theme - responsibility. So, I replaced a learning workshop dedicated to reading groups with time for a mutiny (what Daniel Pink has called "20% time").
The day arrived and I explained that for the next workshop how they spent the time was up to them. I reminded them of the goal of this particular journey (collaborating in development of effective learning environments) and then said, "I'll be in the brig." For the next forty minutes, the fellows took responsibility for their learning. They organized their time. They monitored their progress. And they negotiated their needs. As they worked, I took notes on their collegial efforts that I could use to evaluate their progress on this project.
At the end of the time, I broke free of the brig just before the fellows began a second round of sharing. I affirmed their efforts and said that I was pretty sure there would be another chance to mutiny during the next class. A fellow asked, "What if we mutiny now?" I smiled.
I went golfing today with a friend, and as you can see by the scorecard (generated by Golfshot GPS), we played horribly. Now 45, or bogey golf, is not a bad score for me but we played a scramble format which means this score was a result of our best shots throughout the round. Let's just say we have played better.
What does this have to do with the Virtual Conference's Prompt? I know that part of my problem today was that I was not trusting myself as a golfer. On almost every shot, I hit harder or softer than I knew I needed to because I was over thinking based on the previous shot. This is a poor way to play golf. And after reading Golf and the Spirit, I know that these lessons can translate to other aspects of my life, like teaching. So my answer to, "What is at the center of my classroom?" is two-fold: reflection and trust.
Forgive yourself each and every bad shot - as long as you have learned what it had to teach you - and then get on with it, free and unencumbered. (p. 266)
As a golfer and a teacher, I spend a great deal of time analyzing my practice, but I struggle with the letting go of mistakes part. This past year I created the following qualitative graph to remind me of my issue.
Personal reflection certainly improves my professional growth but there is a point where it seems like more reflection actually causes me to go backwards professionally. The extra reflection sucks my time and my confidence. I was convinced that I needed to find that reflective sweet spot and then stop.
Fortunately, I shared this visual metaphor with one of my teachers in training, who asked, "Does that mean I get to a point where I never get better?" To which she quickly responded, "I don't think that's true." (Have I mentioned how great our teaching candidates are at GVSU?) Instead, we thought about how adjusting the graph from a quadratic to a cubic might make better sense.
The idea is that when I find myself questioning my ability as a teacher, I need to be aware of this, accept it as part of my nature, and then adjust by letting go, moving on, and trusting myself (the Yoga Story strikes again). Essentially, I want to identify what I am doing instinctually well and make it intentional.
I have been thinking about this a lot this week because I am putting the finishing touches on a new course that begins next Tuesday. While I worked hard with my colleagues to design this course (see the Understanding by Design plan here), I am now second guessing myself and thinking about ways to do things differently. I almost skipped golf this morning to put even more work into the course. Lucky for me I trusted my instincts instead.
If reflection and trust are at the center of my classroom, then it must begin with me (Jason was right!). My learners will look to me as a model whether we are talking about doing mathematics or teaching. Therefore, it is important to demonstrate a reflective practice that is built on trust - trust of my learners and trust of myself.
I went golfing today with a friend, and as you can see by the scorecard (generated by Golfshot GPS), we played horribly. Now 45, or bogey golf, is not a bad score for me but we played a scramble format which means this score was a result of our best shots throughout the round. Let's just say we have played better. 
What does this have to do with the Virtual Conference's Prompt? I know that part of my problem today was that I was not trusting myself as a golfer. On almost every shot, I hit harder or softer than I knew I needed to because I was over thinking based on the previous shot. This is a poor way to play golf. And after reading Golf and the Spirit, I know that these lessons can translate to other aspects of my life, like teaching. So my answer to, "What is at the center of my classroom?" is two-fold: reflection and trust.
