I'm struck by Zach's observations about behavior. Years ago, I was coerced into doing a "project" for our U.S. Constitution unit with a few other teachers. Students were supposed to create a poster demonstrating how a bill becomes a law. The students were sprawled out in the classroom, and into the "common area." I watched, mortified, as I saw students basically just copying the diagram of how a bill becomes a law onto large sheets of butcher paper. There was nothing about the assignment that suggested they should do otherwise. Some visiting administrators happened to walk through as they were doing this. I was rather mortified, but then I heard one of them exclaiming about how awesome this was--how engaged all the kids were. They were absolutely engaged: with each other. It was such mindless work, mostly coloring, that they were freed up to socialize. And the fact that we were doing this with kids in other social studies classes meant they had access to their friends who weren't in their class. And my weakest students had found a strategic spot in the hallway to goof off. I was shocked that these administrators didn't see that, even as they were taking photographs of it to post on the district's social media account.
But when I have a classroom of students, mostly in rows, listening to my instruction, then thoughtfully writing about it, that isn't admired because it looks so...I don't know, academic?? Not instagram-worthy?
Thanks for including the link to the webinar. I look forward to watching it. And Zach, I'm already a big fan. Looking forward to digging into more of your work.
”And yeah, it's a way of teaching, which maybe brings us back to choice in schools eventually, which is that there might be a lot of parents that just, that's what they want."
When I became a parent, I wondered whether my teaching background would make me dogged and demanding in my approach to my children’s teachers. As a high school English teacher, I knew a lot about Shakespeare but nothing about teaching reading, so I just accepted all the joy and the buzz of busyness that permeated elementary classroom culture. It wasn't until I taught kindergarten that I realized "how learning happens". Here’s how I wrote about my parent perspective in The Devil Is in the Details of Differentiation: Meditations from a Mere Mortal Merely Teaching:
“For the most part, when it came to literacy, my own children didn’t start receiving “academics” until the fifth grade. Prior to that they spent a lot of time drawing “coffins” around words (Lyn Stone’s comic, but apt, description of that useless activity) with the hope that outlining the shape of a word would somehow relate to reading by igniting recognition of it in text; sitting in literature circles discussing books without the teacher present to guide the discussion; and making mangled macaroni projects at home. The truth is that I didn’t need to be hard on their teachers. They didn’t know better (and, for that matter, neither did I), so they did what they thought was best, even if it was a far cry from what many of their students needed. They were hardworking and dedicated, meticulously managing the minutiae of the elementary school classroom: reading stories, romping around to music, and attending to classroom culture, leaving no wall uncovered and no holiday uncelebrated. My children loved them! But make no mistake about it: With the notable exception of my younger son’s remarkable first grade teacher, these beloved educators weren’t teaching reading to anyone, not even to the students who needed that instruction the most–a situation, thankfully, that we are now on a nation-wide crusade to remedy the situation."
I'm struck by Zach's observations about behavior. Years ago, I was coerced into doing a "project" for our U.S. Constitution unit with a few other teachers. Students were supposed to create a poster demonstrating how a bill becomes a law. The students were sprawled out in the classroom, and into the "common area." I watched, mortified, as I saw students basically just copying the diagram of how a bill becomes a law onto large sheets of butcher paper. There was nothing about the assignment that suggested they should do otherwise. Some visiting administrators happened to walk through as they were doing this. I was rather mortified, but then I heard one of them exclaiming about how awesome this was--how engaged all the kids were. They were absolutely engaged: with each other. It was such mindless work, mostly coloring, that they were freed up to socialize. And the fact that we were doing this with kids in other social studies classes meant they had access to their friends who weren't in their class. And my weakest students had found a strategic spot in the hallway to goof off. I was shocked that these administrators didn't see that, even as they were taking photographs of it to post on the district's social media account.
But when I have a classroom of students, mostly in rows, listening to my instruction, then thoughtfully writing about it, that isn't admired because it looks so...I don't know, academic?? Not instagram-worthy?
Thanks for including the link to the webinar. I look forward to watching it. And Zach, I'm already a big fan. Looking forward to digging into more of your work.
Insightful interview! Thanks for pointing me to Zach's book. Reading on my Kindle now. 👍
”And yeah, it's a way of teaching, which maybe brings us back to choice in schools eventually, which is that there might be a lot of parents that just, that's what they want."
When I became a parent, I wondered whether my teaching background would make me dogged and demanding in my approach to my children’s teachers. As a high school English teacher, I knew a lot about Shakespeare but nothing about teaching reading, so I just accepted all the joy and the buzz of busyness that permeated elementary classroom culture. It wasn't until I taught kindergarten that I realized "how learning happens". Here’s how I wrote about my parent perspective in The Devil Is in the Details of Differentiation: Meditations from a Mere Mortal Merely Teaching:
“For the most part, when it came to literacy, my own children didn’t start receiving “academics” until the fifth grade. Prior to that they spent a lot of time drawing “coffins” around words (Lyn Stone’s comic, but apt, description of that useless activity) with the hope that outlining the shape of a word would somehow relate to reading by igniting recognition of it in text; sitting in literature circles discussing books without the teacher present to guide the discussion; and making mangled macaroni projects at home. The truth is that I didn’t need to be hard on their teachers. They didn’t know better (and, for that matter, neither did I), so they did what they thought was best, even if it was a far cry from what many of their students needed. They were hardworking and dedicated, meticulously managing the minutiae of the elementary school classroom: reading stories, romping around to music, and attending to classroom culture, leaving no wall uncovered and no holiday uncelebrated. My children loved them! But make no mistake about it: With the notable exception of my younger son’s remarkable first grade teacher, these beloved educators weren’t teaching reading to anyone, not even to the students who needed that instruction the most–a situation, thankfully, that we are now on a nation-wide crusade to remedy the situation."
Great interview. Hugely important message, particularly in light of today's NAEP scores.
Carol Jago