Packing for #RallyJune8 - Join @NYSUT tomorrow and support #education #1u

As the year closes, with all of the grading and record-keeping and proctoring, what are my wife and I doing? Packing the car for a day trip to Albany. Why? Because it's important.

Tomorrow @NYSUT is sponsoring a Rally to Fight for the Future of Public Education (#RallyJune8). I feel it is both my professional and personal obligation to attend. Most importantly, I want my two young sons to see what a group of passionate and empowered people can do.

For the record, my 2-year old, Sam, will be wearing a shirt that reads "Invest in me, not the test." And Nate, the 3-month old, will be sporting: "I trust teachers." Both shirts were hand-drawn by my wife, Amy (no pics yet...they are "heat-setting" in the dryer as I type).

I sincerely hope people who care (and who can) spread the word - we will not let this moment in history pass us by without raising our collective voices to the powers that be and saying, in one, unified voice: "We care. We are one voice. United."

I hope to see you in Albany.

[Tweets and pics to follow!]

#TEDxCHSNED: A reflection

Last Friday (5/31/13), I spoke at a TEDx event at my high school. This event was organized by two juniors at the school, and consisted of a blend of students and teachers and administrators speaking over the course of an almost 3-hour time frame. The theme was "Education and Inspiration."

I was incredibly impressed that all speakers not only stuck to the theme so well, but overlapped each other so well. I mean, to the point of repeating words and phrases (we had not seen/heard the other speeches until "go time").

I was the second speaker after our guest speaker, Dr. Arnold Dodge. My speech was title "Time to Fail." I have included my presentation, for your viewing pleasure (though it won't make too much sense without the audio). I have also included my written speech below, which I ditched two minutes before I went on. I managed to hit most of my talking points (I think), but ended up ad-libbing a bit.

After my speech ended, I attempted to live tweet the rest of the night. I created a Storify post to attempt to capture the tweets.

Finally, I am still trying to track down a link to the video of the event. Evidently, TED has a whole process that needs to occur before they choose to stream our event (once I find out, I will update the post with the link). My one hope for a webcam stream died - the webcam "recorded" but did not broadcast....oh well.

All in all, it was a wonderful opportunity to spend a night with like-minded people. And, most importantly, the students' voices rang out loudly and clearly. It was SO refreshing to hear the students echo the concerns that so many educators share.

[My prepared speech]

I realize the potential irony of a high school teacher titling his talk "Time to Fail." But I'd like to delve into some "big" ideas in the little time I have, so let's start with semantics. We currently operate inside a system which stresses success, right? The point of teaching is to transmit information and context, right? And we need to know how well the material was taught and how well the students learned it, so we assess them constantly, right?

Now, there are some problematic words in there. Success is the first one. Teaching, learning, assessing are others. Who defines these terms? I mean, we have a general acknowledgement that the next generation of Americans needs to receive certain knowledge. Those kids need to be presented with the skills and ideas to make it in this crazy world once they leave the safety net of high school. And if they make it, they've succeeded. Right?

What does that success look like? Is it earning the Ivy League diploma? Is it landing the big paycheck? Buying the big house? Or is it being happy with what you have? Is it the joy of helping others first? Is it working together to create a better world?

Success is defined differently by different people. Most, though, would agree that success is an improvement on your previous state, an increase in your proverbial coffers. And failure is the opposite. It is everything success is not. It isn't pretty. It's shameful. It's to be avoided at all cost. It's where no one wants to be (or wants to stay).

As a teacher, some argue my job is to make each child pass and be successful. After all, we can't leave any child behind in this race to the top. And, for the record, a race implies a winner. A winner implies a loser. And a loser has failed. The loser is a failure. Right?

As a society, we plan to ensure that every child is not failing. How? High stakes testing. Because that seems to be the only method by which we can ensure that each child is being judged in an equitable manner. And the tests are never wrong. Right?

Here's what I see every day: an inability to use that tested knowledge. I mean, they got a 93 on the test, so that means they learned something. Right? 

Wrong. 

We are creating a generation of students who are being zombified by schools - the very place where the exact opposite is supposed to occur. A culture of testing means a culture of knowing. Not learning. You know something for a bit, and then you forget it (the day after the test). What you learn is that knowledge is temporary and fleeting, useful for the short term, and then to be discarded. You memorize and forget. You try and should succeed. Every child deserves get an A (which, by definition, destroys the value of the A). Is that the lesson we want to teach? 

Learning is one of the biggest joys in my life; it's the reason I am here today. But how do you teach inspiration?

Let's start by changing our attitudes and beliefs about failing. Here's another way to look at the word FAIL: First Attempt in Learning.  And what about SUCCESS: becoming a reflective, lifelong learner. 

You can look to the books (or Google) for how many successful people were once considered failures. The list is long. And impressive. Einstein, Jordan, Winfrey, Jobs…
What do these people have in common? What traits do they share? What is it about their journey that is inspirational?

Well, for one, they did not see failure as a finality - they saw it as an opportunity. Failure was just that - an attempt at success that did not work. But they did not stop there. They used that failure as a checkpoint, a signpost, a directional marker. Failure was simply a step in eventual success. And sometimes, it takes a lot of steps to succeed.

So how do we teach the young generation to be comfortable with failure? How do we teach them to deal with the adversity we know they will encounter in their lives? Do we put it off for as long as possible? Do we shelter them from consequence? Do we forgive them their inadequacies? 

Or: do we embrace it? Do we recognize that learning is a process and learning to deal with failure is an essential part of that process? Do we let the kids experience being wrong…and then give them the tools to be right? How can we, as a community, carve out the precious time needed to allow our students to fail. 

I'm certainly not the first to think of this, but I am currently struggling with this concept in my own reflective practice as an educator. How do I best meet the needs of my students? Well, to work through my failures. I will try anything in the classroom to see if it works. If it doesn't, I work to see why. I want to understand the moment of weakness, and then turn it to strength. I try to be open about this with my students as well, so they can see that learning isn't easy, it isn't pretty, and it doesn't always manifest itself in an A, B, C, or D. There is something more genuine about learning that simply cannot be measured by a non-stop battery of high-stakes tests. 

I want my students to be comfortable with failure. I want them to deal with adversity and hardship in their learning. I want them to have grit and character when they graduate. And they will never learn to do this if we don't let them. I have a zen saying on a magnet on my fridge: "Leap, and the net will appear." Learning can indeed be a leap of faith - the learner trusts the teacher to guide him or her through those unknown waters. Let's teach our learners to be comfortable with  jumping into the void and discovering something new. 

Spoken word artist Suli Breaks said "If education is the key, then school is the lock." This paradox scares me. I don't want my students' experience of learning to be one of barriers and rigid definitions. School should function as the great leveler, allowing ALL students the chance to develop a burning passion for learning. Instead, they get burned out and they tune out. And we continue to churn them out, one a replica of the next. Students always ask me for an answer. I usually say, "I don't know. Answers are boring. They end conversations."

Let's shift our focus and our perspective a bit, and allow our students to succeed, by giving them the time to fail. Let them find the problems in this world, and then let them work on the solutions. Let them be uncomfortable with a new piece of knowledge, and then watch them grow as they figure out how it fits into their world view. Let's teach them that the answer to number 42 is not always "C." Let's teach them to never stop asking why and why not. 

For if we don't, I fear that we, as a school and as a community, have failed our children.

Collaboration begins with "we": A response to @NMHS_Principal (#edchat #TLILHRIC)

John Krouskoff, the Director of Instructional Technology for my district, won the Pioneer Award for 2013. Eric Sheniger (@NMHS_principal) delivered the morning keynote. I attended the conference (#TLILHRIC) to both support John and to hear Mr. Sheniger speak (I have followed him on Twitter for a while).

Mr. Sheniger's presentation was about harnessing the power of social media in a school/district. I was impressed by Mr. Sheniger's attitude and accomplishments - much of what he said rang true with my own recent thoughts about changing the educational paradigm.

His most salient point? Social media is about communication, conversation, and collaboration. He made many references to the fact that he would not be able to do what he does without the help of others, most especially his PLN.

Near the end of his presentation, though, he used an example that rubbed me the wrong way. In fact, I was, and am, offended. He was discussing attitudes against using social media in the classroom, and mentioned the common complaint from teachers: if they are allowed to use their phones they will spend the period texting. This is not a new complaint to forward-thinking tech-educators.

But... he finished the example with: "you know why that kid is texting? Because he's bored. Why is he bored? Your lesson plan stinks!"

I was stunned. Of course, the Twitterverse picked it up, and he got the expected RTs with cries of "Amen!" amended.

I reacted with my own tweet, and this started a back and forth between Mr. Sheniger and myself. Being in the minority (the room was made up of admins and tech directors), I had to share my displeasure. And 140 characters was not enough space to do so.

What if the lens were shifted?

You know why that kid is bored? Because...

• your principal never leaves her office and has no sense of how her school is being run. That stinks!
• the PD that teachers needed to implement CCSS was washed away in creating pre-assessments for APPR. That stinks!
• there is no clear vision coming out of central office and each teacher fends for himself. That stinks!
• there is no curriculum map available. That stinks!
• the governor creates any number of unfunded mandates that limit the district's and the community's decision making power. That stinks!
• parents enable their children and reward them for not doing the right thing. That stinks!
• politicians who have a twenty-year memory of what school used to be like are lured by the sweet sound of publisher's coins filing their coffers. That stinks!
• public education is turning into a test-taking machine, and only the correct, bubbled answer is of short-term interest. That stinks!
• students are "hard-wired" to react and respond to the constant and consistent buzz in their pockets. That stinks!
• teachers and administrators both are being asked to do a hell of a lot more with a hell of a lot less. That stinks!

Shall I go on?

My response to Mr. Sheniger is this: the system is broken. We all acknowledge that. And some of us are racking our brains for solutions. But it is a system comprised of all of us. We all own a piece of the successes and the failures of this system we are a part of.

Why was that kid texting? Maybe he was bored. Maybe the lesson was not engaging. Maybe his mom was texting about a pick-up time. Maybe he smoked pot two periods ago behind the school. Maybe he just doesn't care.

Or...

Maybe he was actively engaged in the lesson, texting a friend about the link being displayed on the projector. Maybe he started a backchannel on Twitter to discuss an inspired tangent from the lesson. Maybe he wasn't texting...maybe he was doing something we educators haven't figured out yet.

Mr. Sheniger: I truly do not believe you intended any disrespect. Perhaps I am over-reacting to your tone. Please hear me: I respect your intentions. I share your passion. I, too, want to influence change for the better. But don't tread on the teachers - we are but one piece of this very complex dance.

#Frameworks for Learning and Teaching

This is a request for material and ideas.

What I have come to find in my 10th year of teaching is that, although I am continually reflecting and revising my practice, I feel I have lost sight of the connecting threads. I feel lost in a maze of activity, but without the guiding structure of a solid, logical, educationally sound framework.

One problem I have is obvious: my district has not provided me with these tools (hence, this post).

A second is more clear to my #PLN: I have found the most valuable PD on and through Twitter.

In the absence of an "official" dogma to follow, I am turning to my PLN for help: what frameworks do you use? What frameworks codify "good teaching" and "good practice"? What are the best practices out there?

Perhaps an example will help: my District uses Danielson's framework for classroom observations. I was observed last week for the second time in six years (the observation went well). In this time, I have never been provided with PD on HOW I would be observed, nor was I provided with information about WHY Danielson's ideas are sound.

While preparing for the observation, I spent a lot of time reading through Danielson's words, and I came to realize two things: it is incredibly overwhelming to try to digest that in a one-week period and, it made sense. It actually fits together and provides a common ground to discuss teaching.

Now, I am not claiming it is the best method, but it is the one we have decided to use, it is the one our APPR will utilize next year, and it is one book I will study this summer.

What else? I plan to study engageny.org this summer to figure out this common core implementation (again, no PD from the district). What else is out there that I should be aware of?

I'd love to find out "big picture" resources (like Danielson and Common Core) and "small" picture resources that pertain to HS English (like Kelly Gallagher's Write Like This or Carol Jago's With Rigor For All)

Please leave a comment below or send a tweet to @acelini. Let's keep this conversation alive and well and share what we know.

Thanks.

Big Data...Big Concerns.

Lindsey Own (@LindseyOwn) posted an interesting read titled "How Big Corporate Marketing Analytics Can Disrupt Education - Crazy, Right?" - totally worth checking out. Here is my comment on her post, cross-posted here for reference.

This is one of those crossroads moments for me as an educator and tech enthusiast - I see so much potential in how tech can be applied to actually increase student and teacher learning and, I believe, change how we learn (in terms of both how we learn and how we structure learning). And then my department tells me today that in two years, the infamous and almost existent PARCCs will be administered in NYS to 9th, 10th, AND 11th grade ELA. That, and they will be given in two sittings: a three-day and a two-day (not full days, but double the length-wish of the current Regents exam). I hear this, and I have to ask myself if this a best practice to collect this data. I say no, there has to be a better way, a way we can use tech to give standardized formative assessments often, with real and lasting feedback for both student and teacher. shift the funding away from the pockets of the test-maker and use it to provide the test-taker (i.e. the students) with a viable way to create their learning. The politicians are sorely misled here.

I love the concept of using "big data"in my practice, and I hope that the right people get their voices heard soon.

On a related tangent, I found out about this tool at the Harvard Future of Learning session in 2011, but haven't followed up on it yet. Has anyone had experience with Disco tests (https://discotest.lectica.org/index_discotest.html)? I remember being blown away by the idea of using multiple, small, frequent standardized tests that provided real time data.

Cultural Reference of the Week: #SheRatchet

My students have been throwing this term around class lately: "ratchet." Being an English teacher and naturally curious, I asked my students for the context of the term. As they say, ask and ye shall receive.

I went from this (half serious):

To this:

With an additional this, thrown in for flavor:

(I, of course, found much more context with this)

I find it very interesting how the "slang" spreads and shifts its context. I teach in an relatively-affluent suburban area, one in which you are not likely to see that sort of behavior/attitude in the local drug store. Yet it appears in the school.

I completely understand how adolescents adopt pop culture references and adapt them to their own living (witness my own experience twenty years back with Grunge - double flannels for life!). What I still don't understand, though, is the adoption of the "gangsta" mentality in suburbia.

I'm no historian, but I assume that the roots of the hip-hip would came from a group of musicians that were experiencing a really tough life. That idea, of course, got bastardized once it became popular. Now, it seems, my students live such an "easy life" that they feel the need to toughen up by "living" a "ghetto" life (I can assure you, there is no ghetto in Clarkstown). The phrases "fake tough" and "phony brave" come to mind (from Full Metal Jacket).

I've seen the baggy pants, the abundance of tattoos, and the rise of "girl fights" happen at my school, and I need to ask - where do they go from here. Is the "ghetto phase" something to be expected these days? Do we idealize a "lifestyle" that emphasizes easy money, easy girls, and easy solutions (bang)? Is this some insane bastardization of the American Dream?

Or is this yet another iteration of the vapidity that seems to be oozing out of high schools today? What do we teach that is lasting? That is enduring? That is meaningful?

To come full-circle: the ratchet conversation continued into my extra help session, where a student working on the literary magazine (and certainly NOT the person who would use the word ratchet), told me that it's just a derivation of the word "wretched."

I'm not sure if she's right, but it is a bit scary that one of the kids' go-to phrases is, simply stated, wretched. Is that some subliminal expression of their psyche?

(P.S. A: I realize they don't use it that way and B: totally reading into it. But hey, that's what I do.)

My comments on #NYSED 's survey on the new #APPR

I received am email from NYSED asking for feedback on the new APPR process. Most of the questions were standard fare, but the last one was open-ended commentary. I took the opportunity to rant/vent, and had the presence of mind to copy my comment before I hit submit.

Here it is, for your viewing pleasure:
The new APPR makes sense in theory. In theory, we should all be collecting data about our practice and our students, and using that data to improve our teaching and their learning. However, in practice, making a change this massive, and without any organization from the state, will create an organizational nightmare. For instance: the talk regarding the pre-assessment for the SLOs is to give an incredibly difficult exam on content the students have not learned yet (with the expectation that they will do poorly on it). Then, after you spend the year teaching that content, they should shine and show outstanding growth. Jobs saved! 

This is a ridiculous predicament you (NYSED) have put us (teachers) in. Why should anyone take the pre-assessment seriously, knowing the the objective is failure. The students are aware of this as well - what will their motivation be? And how does that bode for the start of a school year: let me set the tone for the year of failure. Not education. Not improvement. But pre-planned and intentional failure. From a socio-emotional perspective, that is suicide. 

Add in an INCREASE in tests, which equates to a DECREASE in available teaching time, and Gov Cuomo's tax cap, where will teachers have the time to teach. When will administrators, who are already strapped for time today, have time to administer? How will districts afford more unfunded state mandates? By cutting teaching staff? Because that will improve education, right? Larger classes, more preps, less time. Sounds like a party. 

In theory, this all makes (some) sense. In reality, it will destroy education for a good long while. Has anyone at NYSED considered what the fallout will be? What will teaching and, more importantly, learning look like once the proverbial dust has settled?