Most teachers are phonies. They spend vast quantities of time uttering inane complements to their students, in hopes said students feel good about themselves. And as we all know, students who feel good about themselves excel in reading, math, science.... Wait, what was that? They don't? Huh, I could have sworn that's what my ed school profs told me.
Music teachers aren't phonies. We can't be, for we are subject to the ultimate high-stakes test: public performance. There is no hiding the fact Timmy, Sally and Juan haven't learned how to play when they are sitting on stage hitting all the wrong notes in an attempt to play "Hot Cross Buns." Here is my response to an earnest do-gooder's defense of discovery learning, which appeared on the Core Knowledge Blog back in May 2013:
<blockquote>While what you say is a nice sounding theory, the truth is this: None
of it matters in 6th grade band class. Nobody has the time or
inclination to wait for you to discover which end of the trumpet you
blow into, how to put the mouthpiece into the trumpet properly, how to
form the correct embouchure, which combination of valves and embouchure
produces an E, how to read that E on the staff, how long to hold that E
in measure 17, which note comes after the E, how playing that E makes
you feel, and how playing that E relates to your life. All that matters
is you can in fact play the E in measure 17, otherwise the Imperial
March will sound like garbage, and everyone will hate you for screwing
up constantly.
If you are the first chair trumpet player in the Chicago Symphony,
then yes, you have time to contemplate the philosophical implications of
the E in measure 17, if you so choose. Why? Because you’ve practiced
it 18, 509 times and there is no possible way you can do it wrong. In
6th grade band, the failure rate is much higher, and yet, like in most
of life outside of school, your director and classmates still expect you
to do it right. They do not care how long you have practiced to
produce that E, they do not care about your journey of self discovery
you have undertaken to understand that E, they do not care what it means
to you or what connections it has to the rest of the world. Why?
Because all of that other stuff is irrelevant, what matters is whether
or not you can demonstrate your knowledge of that E and the correct
instant in the piece.
My job, as your 6th grade band director is to show you how to do
that, not only for the E in measure 17 but for the all the other notes
in all the other pieces we play. I have to have the knowledge of every
instrument, every embouchure, every fingering, every mark in every
score, and the best way to teach all of that as quickly as possible.
(In other subjects, these are called content and pedagogy.) Why?
Because band class only meets for 45 minutes a day (if we’re really
lucky), and the concert is 6 weeks from now. And guess what? Nobody in
the audience cares about journey, they care whether the band sounds
good and their child plays well.
Unless you’ve taken up residence at Walden Pond, results matter. And
the best thing any teacher preparation program can give me are the
specific content, properly sequenced and the necessary pedagogy to get
those results. Because at the end of the concert, nobody in the band
cares about how interconnected everything is. They care about whether
they sounded good and nailed that E in measure 17.</blockquote>
Friday, December 27, 2013
Friday, December 20, 2013
A Rat Is a Rat Is a Rat
While writing my last post about my company's truly horrible curriculum, I discovered more kinds of errors embedded in it.
4) Piss Poor Sequencing: You know what
is a bad idea in teaching, guaranteed to fail? Scheduling 2 weeks
for your second graders to learn Home on the Range, not singing the
song for 7 weeks, then having them play a complicated instrumental
accompaniment while singing Home on the Range in Week 10. How many
students do you think will actually remember the song? Yeah, none.
Even the smart, native English speaking 8 year-olds cannot retain
unused information that long.
5) Giant Knowledge Gaps: One of the most useful pieces of knowledge music classes should impart are facts about the instruments of orchestra. Does my company's curriculum cover this incredibly important topic in a systematic fashion? Short answer: No. Long answer: Hell, no. Every third or fourth lesson there is a random listening activity which purports to be for learning the instruments. When I say random listening, I do mean random. Disney songs, pop songs, truly obscure classical pieces. Peter and the Wolf and Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra are conspicuous in their absence. Most of the kids we serve are poor. They aren't going to the symphony's young persons concert. Yet knowing the difference between instruments is useful common knowledge.
So other than griping at length, what am I doing about it? Slowly, ever so quietly, changing things I teach. This year, I put in a coherent recorder scope and sequence. Next year I am going to implement a workable music literacy strand. After that, units on instruments and composers.
But it means I'm swimming against the current. How long can I keep it up before I'm caught? What will it do to my psyche, having to lie and obfuscate so much?
Stay tuned.
So other than griping at length, what am I doing about it? Slowly, ever so quietly, changing things I teach. This year, I put in a coherent recorder scope and sequence. Next year I am going to implement a workable music literacy strand. After that, units on instruments and composers.
But it means I'm swimming against the current. How long can I keep it up before I'm caught? What will it do to my psyche, having to lie and obfuscate so much?
Stay tuned.
Friday, December 13, 2013
A Rose by Any Other Name
When I interviewed with my current
employer, one of my pitches was I would like to use curriculum that
have been written by Orff and Kodaly certified teachers and that is
proven to be successful. (Up until then, I had been writing my own.)
Don't know if that line played any part of being hired, but I was
and soon had in hand the company's in-house lesson plans. It took me
almost no time to come to the following conclusion:
They're crap. There are so many errors and so little cohesion that it seems more like a patch work of activities that work in the past couple with a few “Gee, we should teach that,” ideas. Mostly, like all else that is rubbish in education, it is not thought through. (Oh, and I should add, this curriculum was revised this past summer. I'm not talking about something decades old and behind the times.)
The errors fall into three categories:
1) Typographical: Sure the plans have
countless misspellings, and I don't begrudge the writer on this
point. One person literally wrote 120 lessons. And she didn't have
an editor. The typos I cannot abide are the egregious ones: Today's
3rd grade lesson says to “Repeat the above body
percussion pattern. Apply it to instruments. Patsch = drum, clap =
metal, snap = wood.” Guess what? There is no body percussion
pattern in the lesson, either above or below.
A subset of this category is songs that
are in the lessons, but not included in the materials. These missing songs are never ones that are in the common knowledge. No, they are the poorly composed songs specifically for classroom teaching, and thusly the ones I don't know and can't fake.
2) Inappropriate for Age: Activities
are required of students who are in no way capable or prepared to
perform them. Second graders are asked to sing “The More We Get
Together” as a round in Lesson 4. (Lessons are held once a week.) These student have NEVER sung a
round before (in second grade, or first, or kinder), and they are
expected to sing a complicated triple meter song they have know for 4
weeks as a round. If there's ever been a recipe for instantaneous failure, this is it.
Also in this category are
developmentally inappropriate songs. First graders are asked to sing
a song with a range of over an octave with a high G (top of the
treble staff). Never mind that most adult altos (author included)
cannot hit a high G, it is dangerous for first graders to even try.
Vocal experts say six or seven year-olds should be singing songs that
have less than an octave range and do not go lower than middle C or
high than third space treble C. I don't care how cute the song is, if the range is too wide, it cannot be included.
On the flip side, older students are
forced to sing songs that are beneath them. Now I think "Yankee
Doodle" is a great folk song – for first graders. But for fifth
graders? I don't think so. It's insulting to the students to force
them to sing a kiddie song (complete with kiddie movements to go with
it). No wonder so many of my fellow teachers were complaining about obstinate 5th graders at this week's staff meeting.
3) Dead End/Pointless: In second grade
and part of third grade, the lessons tell me I must be teaching the
students solfege. Okay fine. But there is no reason for it.
Solfege is dropped unceremoniously after the kids start learning
recorder and letter names for the notes. Solfege is not taught well
enough to establish the connection between it and note letter names.
If solfege is important enough to teach, then do it right. Use it in
every lesson, in every grade. That way, those graduating fifth
graders understand it and are prepared for choir.
There is also insane
repetition. Third graders spend 12 week on recorder learning the
notes B, A, and G. You would expect that in 4th grade
there would be a short review, and then they would move on to C, D,
E, F#, etc. Nope. Fourth grade spends 15 weeks
reviewing B, A, and G. Seriously. Then in 4th grade,
the students spend 9 weeks learning C & D. Guess what 5th
grade spends the ENTIRE YEAR reviewing? Yup, B, A, G, C, and D.
They learn one new note (low E) and use it for a grand total of one
week! What an utter waste of time.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Stupidity on Parade
What separates the sheep from the goats?
One phrase: Attention to detail.
As a contractor, not an independent employee, I am required to follow the company's curriculum. Last spring, the company hired a curriculum writer to rewrite their program. To follow the letter of federal and state labor law, the company posted a job vacancy. But it was a total inside job. I inquired about the position and was flatly rejected (despite having created curricula from scratch for two different schools) because they promised the job to one of the senior teachers.
Now I like this senior teacher, she is a very nice lady. But she is not now and never will be the brightest bulb in the chandelier of humanity. She is not a credentialed teacher. (Although, I don't know, that may be a plus.) It is obvious she has never spent a minute reading about how kids learn music. Or how to design an effective curriculum.
What she wrote for the company, and what all us teachers is forced to use, is a complete and utter mess. On every level. (Which will be expounded upon in later posts.)
I hate it. I hate using it. But worse, I hate what it is doing to me. It is slowly, inexorably turning me into a liar and a dissident. I certainly cannot reveal to anyone that I have abandoned the lesson plans. Constantly I have to pretend that I am using them, and I earnestly care about the training the company provides. I loathe drop-in visits by my boss, because the minute she walks in the door, I have to switch from the productive lesson I was teaching to the company-approved drivel. It must confuse the students horribly.
How can regular teachers stand it? Having to teach dreck they know doesn't work and is riddled with errors. And why can't curriculum be written by actual experts - not failed classroom teachers?
One phrase: Attention to detail.
As a contractor, not an independent employee, I am required to follow the company's curriculum. Last spring, the company hired a curriculum writer to rewrite their program. To follow the letter of federal and state labor law, the company posted a job vacancy. But it was a total inside job. I inquired about the position and was flatly rejected (despite having created curricula from scratch for two different schools) because they promised the job to one of the senior teachers.
Now I like this senior teacher, she is a very nice lady. But she is not now and never will be the brightest bulb in the chandelier of humanity. She is not a credentialed teacher. (Although, I don't know, that may be a plus.) It is obvious she has never spent a minute reading about how kids learn music. Or how to design an effective curriculum.
What she wrote for the company, and what all us teachers is forced to use, is a complete and utter mess. On every level. (Which will be expounded upon in later posts.)
I hate it. I hate using it. But worse, I hate what it is doing to me. It is slowly, inexorably turning me into a liar and a dissident. I certainly cannot reveal to anyone that I have abandoned the lesson plans. Constantly I have to pretend that I am using them, and I earnestly care about the training the company provides. I loathe drop-in visits by my boss, because the minute she walks in the door, I have to switch from the productive lesson I was teaching to the company-approved drivel. It must confuse the students horribly.
How can regular teachers stand it? Having to teach dreck they know doesn't work and is riddled with errors. And why can't curriculum be written by actual experts - not failed classroom teachers?
Friday, November 29, 2013
Shiny Happy People
Optimism in general, I'm fine with it. Stiff upper lip, look on the bright side, and all that good stuff.
Optimism in education, now that I can't stand. One of the major commandments in the Church of Education is "Thou shalt not find fault with any child, no matter what." Doesn't matter what the child is doing (or more often, not doing), you has a teacher are supposed to find something to complement. "Oh look, Johnny is showing off his creativity by setting fire to the classroom. Let's give Johnny a high five for his imagination as we line up to evacuate." More than one administrator has admonished me for not giving 8 positive comments for every negative one. What a bunch of bullshit! Nobody in the real world does this. Okay, not true, there are people in the world who do this. They are called brown-nosers, suck-ups, yes-men, and other fruitier phrases.
It has gotten to the point where teachers cannot say anything negative to their students out of fear of permanently crushing their egos. Let's get one thing clear, egos are not made of spun glass. They will not shatter if spoken to critically, loudly, or even (shudder) harshly. Egos are made of far stronger stuff. Even the egos of children.
How do I know? Outside the classroom, these same precious snowflakes participate in a myriad of activities, including highly competitive sports. The coaches and tutors these kids interact with give plenty of constructive criticism; they want to get the highest performance out of their players. As a private teacher, most of my comments are critical, but highly constructive. "Play softer to get a better sound." "All quarter notes in one piece are the same length. You made your life difficult by making these quarter notes into eighth notes." "More air. Twice as much air as you think you need." Are a small sampling of the ones I used last night. Do you think parents would hand me thousands of dollars per year if I was making their children miserable? No, I don't either.
And let's face it, kids see right through all the forced compliments and always have. Remember Holden Caulfield?
Optimism in education, now that I can't stand. One of the major commandments in the Church of Education is "Thou shalt not find fault with any child, no matter what." Doesn't matter what the child is doing (or more often, not doing), you has a teacher are supposed to find something to complement. "Oh look, Johnny is showing off his creativity by setting fire to the classroom. Let's give Johnny a high five for his imagination as we line up to evacuate." More than one administrator has admonished me for not giving 8 positive comments for every negative one. What a bunch of bullshit! Nobody in the real world does this. Okay, not true, there are people in the world who do this. They are called brown-nosers, suck-ups, yes-men, and other fruitier phrases.
It has gotten to the point where teachers cannot say anything negative to their students out of fear of permanently crushing their egos. Let's get one thing clear, egos are not made of spun glass. They will not shatter if spoken to critically, loudly, or even (shudder) harshly. Egos are made of far stronger stuff. Even the egos of children.
How do I know? Outside the classroom, these same precious snowflakes participate in a myriad of activities, including highly competitive sports. The coaches and tutors these kids interact with give plenty of constructive criticism; they want to get the highest performance out of their players. As a private teacher, most of my comments are critical, but highly constructive. "Play softer to get a better sound." "All quarter notes in one piece are the same length. You made your life difficult by making these quarter notes into eighth notes." "More air. Twice as much air as you think you need." Are a small sampling of the ones I used last night. Do you think parents would hand me thousands of dollars per year if I was making their children miserable? No, I don't either.
And let's face it, kids see right through all the forced compliments and always have. Remember Holden Caulfield?
Friday, November 22, 2013
Extra Credit Bonus: Ask a Music Teacher
Larry Cuban is taking his sweat time blogging the story of how he reached enlightenment. Don't bother with the first two parts in the series, they are just set up. The third part the link goes to has the punch line: Teaching "thinking skills" devoid of content and context is worthless.
Well Duh!
If, in his youth, Mr. Cuban was wise enough to walk his posterior over to his school's music department, the band/orchestra director would have been happy to explain the facts of life to him. (And considerably shorten his path to enlightenment.) Transferring a skill to a brand new situation is the last step on the road to knowing.
Every student musician in a high school band or orchestra knows the meaning of all the symbols on each piece of music in his folder. Yet it takes hours upon hours of rehearsal to make each piece ready for performance. Why? In each piece all the symbols are in a unique context, and young musicians do not understand the symbols well enough to grasp how they work in the new environment. They need to be assisted in learning the new environment and shown how the symbols work. Thus, lots of rehearsal.
Take eighth notes. In the Standard of Excellence method book (read: textbook), eighth notes are introduced on Page 13. Now a beginning band practice and practice to make Page 13 sound like a heavenly choir. Then when they turn the page, they will revert to back to sounding like fifth graders who picked up their instruments yesterday. Why? Because all the eighth notes on Page 14 are different than the ones on Page 13. The idea of eighth notes is so new that the students can only play them in the EXACT, SPECIFIC piece which they have been taught. In order to play eighth notes anywhere (ie. generalize), students need to be guided through dozens and dozens of different pieces containing eighth notes. Which is why in Standard of Excellence, eighth notes appear on each and every subsequent page.
Good teaching goes from the specific to the general. It's bad teaching that tries to go the other way.
Hey, it ain't rocket science, Batman!
Well Duh!
If, in his youth, Mr. Cuban was wise enough to walk his posterior over to his school's music department, the band/orchestra director would have been happy to explain the facts of life to him. (And considerably shorten his path to enlightenment.) Transferring a skill to a brand new situation is the last step on the road to knowing.
Every student musician in a high school band or orchestra knows the meaning of all the symbols on each piece of music in his folder. Yet it takes hours upon hours of rehearsal to make each piece ready for performance. Why? In each piece all the symbols are in a unique context, and young musicians do not understand the symbols well enough to grasp how they work in the new environment. They need to be assisted in learning the new environment and shown how the symbols work. Thus, lots of rehearsal.
Take eighth notes. In the Standard of Excellence method book (read: textbook), eighth notes are introduced on Page 13. Now a beginning band practice and practice to make Page 13 sound like a heavenly choir. Then when they turn the page, they will revert to back to sounding like fifth graders who picked up their instruments yesterday. Why? Because all the eighth notes on Page 14 are different than the ones on Page 13. The idea of eighth notes is so new that the students can only play them in the EXACT, SPECIFIC piece which they have been taught. In order to play eighth notes anywhere (ie. generalize), students need to be guided through dozens and dozens of different pieces containing eighth notes. Which is why in Standard of Excellence, eighth notes appear on each and every subsequent page.
Good teaching goes from the specific to the general. It's bad teaching that tries to go the other way.
Hey, it ain't rocket science, Batman!
Calling All Amateurs
Once upon a time, I plunked down $135 each year to be a part of the Music Educators National Conference (or MENC). Under some bizarre arrangement, each of MENC's state affiliates set the membership dues for its members. My state has had the highest dues in the nation until this year. Now this wouldn't be so bad if this so called "professional organization" actually provided any services to its membership. Guess what?
They don't.
Okay, that's not entirely fair. They provide two services. They run local band/orchestra/choir competitions every year. But these arenearly totally impossible to get into. Twenty-four seconds after registration is opened the damn things are full. Yes, we're talking about a school band festival not a Justin Beiber concert. So that's one real great service right there. The second service is an annual conference, held during the school year in the state's second least attractive city. I went a couple times, and well, not impressed. The workshops? No, not so great. For the majority, it would have been more cost effective (by a factor of 10) to stay home and read a book on the subject. The networking? Nope. Unless you are one of the good ol' boys or their fair-haired proteges, forget about it.
Now the MENC itself supposedly provides all sorts of services. Print publications written at the fifth grade level and full of puff pieces or really crappy research studies. An online database of random lesson plans submitted by teachers that are neither organized nor screened for quality. Online forums which were good, until MENC executed the worst website redesign I've ever seen. No one was told of the move and the old posts were archived in such away as to render them inaccessible.
That's what $135 per annum pays for. Not exactly what you'd call value for money.
They don't.
Okay, that's not entirely fair. They provide two services. They run local band/orchestra/choir competitions every year. But these are
Now the MENC itself supposedly provides all sorts of services. Print publications written at the fifth grade level and full of puff pieces or really crappy research studies. An online database of random lesson plans submitted by teachers that are neither organized nor screened for quality. Online forums which were good, until MENC executed the worst website redesign I've ever seen. No one was told of the move and the old posts were archived in such away as to render them inaccessible.
That's what $135 per annum pays for. Not exactly what you'd call value for money.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Education, a New Religion?
A thought occurred to me while walking to the mailbox this morning. Educators believe in processes that are not backed by evidence, but rather by hearsay. Educators believe in methods that are not backed by science, but rather by faith.
Aren't these the principal characteristics of religion?
We are trusting the future of civilization to these people?
Are you scared yet? I'm scared shitless.
The more I think about it, the better the analogy works. Education has high priests distributing the gospel: Ken Robinson, Michelle Rhee, Lucy Calkins, Dan Meyer, and that Khan guy. These priests tour the land preaching, claiming to have found The One True Answer to all your educational problems. All you have to do is follow their lead (by paying them $$$$), and you will find educational salvation. It doesn't matter that they have not set foot in a classroom since the Ford Administration (if they ever did).
Education has prophets who tell us the way things will be if just believe hard enough and pay the priests exorbitant fees. Dewy, Bloom, Skinner, Rousseau, Gardner et al. Don't worry your pretty little head that all their philosophy and/or science has been discredited by a mountain of more recent experiments. Just keep dreaming that their utopian vision is achievable if you work very hard implementing all of the high priests' ideas.
Educators are dogmatic. They are terrified of rigorous questioning and open debate. It does not matter how much evidence (in the form of scientific studies or personal experience) you bring to the discussion, if you do not agree with the prevailing dogma, you are in big trouble. Don't believe me? Read E.D. Hirsch's story about teaching an education class in The Making of Americans. Talk to any senior teacher in the cities of New York and Washington D.C. where oppressive evaluation systems are designed to punish and squash dissent.
Educators ignore effective teaching practices. Case in point: Direct Instruction. Forty years after Project Follow Through demonstrated Direct Instruction's superiority over other teaching methods, few teachers even know about it, let alone use it. Subsequent research shows Direct Instruction works with all kinds of students in a myriad of settings, yet educators actively work to hide it. Why? Because it directly contradicts all of the Progressive prophets and priests of education.
Education has become a cult. A dangerous, destructive cult. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Aren't these the principal characteristics of religion?
We are trusting the future of civilization to these people?
Are you scared yet? I'm scared shitless.
The more I think about it, the better the analogy works. Education has high priests distributing the gospel: Ken Robinson, Michelle Rhee, Lucy Calkins, Dan Meyer, and that Khan guy. These priests tour the land preaching, claiming to have found The One True Answer to all your educational problems. All you have to do is follow their lead (by paying them $$$$), and you will find educational salvation. It doesn't matter that they have not set foot in a classroom since the Ford Administration (if they ever did).
Education has prophets who tell us the way things will be if just believe hard enough and pay the priests exorbitant fees. Dewy, Bloom, Skinner, Rousseau, Gardner et al. Don't worry your pretty little head that all their philosophy and/or science has been discredited by a mountain of more recent experiments. Just keep dreaming that their utopian vision is achievable if you work very hard implementing all of the high priests' ideas.
Educators are dogmatic. They are terrified of rigorous questioning and open debate. It does not matter how much evidence (in the form of scientific studies or personal experience) you bring to the discussion, if you do not agree with the prevailing dogma, you are in big trouble. Don't believe me? Read E.D. Hirsch's story about teaching an education class in The Making of Americans. Talk to any senior teacher in the cities of New York and Washington D.C. where oppressive evaluation systems are designed to punish and squash dissent.
Educators ignore effective teaching practices. Case in point: Direct Instruction. Forty years after Project Follow Through demonstrated Direct Instruction's superiority over other teaching methods, few teachers even know about it, let alone use it. Subsequent research shows Direct Instruction works with all kinds of students in a myriad of settings, yet educators actively work to hide it. Why? Because it directly contradicts all of the Progressive prophets and priests of education.
Education has become a cult. A dangerous, destructive cult. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
In Memorium: Mr. Teachbad (2009-2013)
Friends, teachers, citizens.
I come not to bury Teachbad (he's not dead yet), but to praise him.
The evil that men do lives forever on the Internet
The good is oft done only in real life, and is quickly forgotten.
Let it not be so with Teachbad.
The earnest educators hath told you Teachbad was cruel,
If it were so, those teachers of knowledge would hardly flock to his blog
And despotic administrators would never have run him out teaching
Here, without leave of anyone in particular,
For I care not what earnest educators
And despotic administrators think, should they think at all.
Come I to speak in defense of Teachbad.
He was a comrade in arms, a defender of rational thought
But earnest educators say he was cruel;
And earnest educators are always right.
He saw the world as it really is, cutting through the layers of bullshit jargon
He called those who refused to work lazy.
Is this the mark of a cruel man?
When his students showed up, Teachbad gave them meaningful lessons
Hateful teachers do no such thing:
Yet despotic administrators say he was hateful;
And despotic administrators are always right.
You all did see Teachbad do the unbelievable;
He named the names of those who made the moronic education decisions.
Yet earnest educators say he was spiteful;
And earnest educators are always right.
I cannot make a mockery of every earnest educator and every despotic administrator,
I can only speak what I know.
Teachbad dared to speak truth to power, regardless of the cost.
And we love him for it!
Many fear the wrath of those fools who rule our working hours,
Doing jobs in quiet despair, silent regret
Never to rise up and bear witness to the lunacy.
Who among us has the courage to do as Teachbad has done?
To keep the fire to their feet?
Shining the sunlight of truth in the roach infested corners of education.
Only then might things change for the better!
I come not to bury Teachbad (he's not dead yet), but to praise him.
The evil that men do lives forever on the Internet
The good is oft done only in real life, and is quickly forgotten.
Let it not be so with Teachbad.
The earnest educators hath told you Teachbad was cruel,
If it were so, those teachers of knowledge would hardly flock to his blog
And despotic administrators would never have run him out teaching
Here, without leave of anyone in particular,
For I care not what earnest educators
And despotic administrators think, should they think at all.
Come I to speak in defense of Teachbad.
He was a comrade in arms, a defender of rational thought
But earnest educators say he was cruel;
And earnest educators are always right.
He saw the world as it really is, cutting through the layers of bullshit jargon
He called those who refused to work lazy.
Is this the mark of a cruel man?
When his students showed up, Teachbad gave them meaningful lessons
Hateful teachers do no such thing:
Yet despotic administrators say he was hateful;
And despotic administrators are always right.
You all did see Teachbad do the unbelievable;
He named the names of those who made the moronic education decisions.
Yet earnest educators say he was spiteful;
And earnest educators are always right.
I cannot make a mockery of every earnest educator and every despotic administrator,
I can only speak what I know.
Teachbad dared to speak truth to power, regardless of the cost.
And we love him for it!
Many fear the wrath of those fools who rule our working hours,
Doing jobs in quiet despair, silent regret
Never to rise up and bear witness to the lunacy.
Who among us has the courage to do as Teachbad has done?
To keep the fire to their feet?
Shining the sunlight of truth in the roach infested corners of education.
Only then might things change for the better!
Friday, November 8, 2013
No Love Among the Ruins
This is the final in a multipart series.
I did not stay for Year 5. I told the principal exactly what I thought of him and slammed the door behind me.
The school had become a total wreck. Completely unrecognizable from the place I had fallen in love with just a few short years prior. The few others who remained and cared left as well, including the assistant principal and the experienced teachers who were not close to retirement. The most experienced teacher in the school left to become a car salesman! The art teacher became a stay-at-home mom. I do what I do.
What follows is hearsay. I still tutor some students who attend the school. Their stories, and those of their parents are depressing to say the least.
Looking back on it now, years after the fact, makes me sad. An oasis in the vast educational desert choked with sand all due to the incompetence and machinations of one small despot.
The fish indeed rots from the head.
I did not stay for Year 5. I told the principal exactly what I thought of him and slammed the door behind me.
The school had become a total wreck. Completely unrecognizable from the place I had fallen in love with just a few short years prior. The few others who remained and cared left as well, including the assistant principal and the experienced teachers who were not close to retirement. The most experienced teacher in the school left to become a car salesman! The art teacher became a stay-at-home mom. I do what I do.
What follows is hearsay. I still tutor some students who attend the school. Their stories, and those of their parents are depressing to say the least.
- The French teacher is no longer allowed to teach. He is forced to use sub-par language teaching software in all his classes. This teacher is a native French speaker who knows nothing about computers and loathes them.
- I was replaced by a lady who knows nothing about teaching music. She's a singer who chooses truly awful repertoire, and has no budget because the dreck she gives her students is in the public domain. My students tell me what they are learning in class. All of it is developmentally inappropriate, and contrary to the way humans learn music.
- A mother saw my copy of Story of the World in my trunk and asked me about it. When I explained that it was history written specifically for children, she told me about her attempts to fill in the gaps in her daughter's education. Gaps like history and writing.
- The art teacher told me the school was redesigning their curriculum based on Understanding by Design by Wiggins & McTighe. This mess of a book is the antithesis of the founder's educational philosophy and vision. It is the apex of illogical thought and educational fad.
- One client (who has since left the school) was forced to hire a tutor because the school failed to teach his son to read.
Looking back on it now, years after the fact, makes me sad. An oasis in the vast educational desert choked with sand all due to the incompetence and machinations of one small despot.
The fish indeed rots from the head.
Friday, November 1, 2013
The Fall of a Great School
This is part three of a multi-part post.
Year 3 ended with a mass exodus of teachers as a result of the precipitous decline of student discipline and the removal of teacher authority. Something in Denmark was starting to smell. The rot that started with the hiring of a new principal was now rampant.
For me, Year 4 opened during the summer, standing in the workroom making copies and eavesdropping on office conversations. The one I remember involved the assistant principal, a hold over from the previous principal, and one of her friends. The assistant principal was not a happy camper. She was vociferously complaining about the now not-so-new principal's demands. Regretfully, her door closed before I could hear details.
For everyone, Year 4 saw a push to be accredited. The founder and previous school leaders purposefully eschewed accreditation because it forces a school to conform to a lot of dubious education school theories. And it takes a lot of time away from teaching in order to create useless documents. But the not-so-new principal thought accreditation was important, so we did it, lead by one of his sycophants on the faculty. To make matters worse, this erstwhile leader (who couldn't lead her arse out of a paper bag) was absent in mind and body a good deal of time because she was dealing with a personal matter. Another, highly competent, much more experienced teacher had volunteered to lead, but was turned down on the weakest of excuses - her children attended the school and therefore created a "conflict of interest."
At first I tried to ignore accreditation, but it got me in the end. In a fit of madness, my fellow arts teachers and I decided to develop a strategic plan for our department. Other departments had developed plans of their own which were being included. As the best writer of the group, I took everybody's ideas and over the course of an evening, wrote up a plan. Which I emailed to the principal for review and inclusion with the accreditation documents.
Guess what happened at 7:30 the next morning? An angry principal showed up at my office. As I struggled for consciousness, the principal went on and on about how he could not possibly include my plan as written. Why? I asked. He could not provide a coherent answer, something about building consensus. Other departments are having their plans included verbatim and no consensus was built around them, why can't the art department? Again, no coherent answer, only jive talk about how he supports the arts. My fellow arts teachers were incensed (Both quit within the next 18 months). Our plan ended up on the trash heap.
The other theme of Year 4 was incompetence. Over the summer, offices were supposed to be added to the multi-purpose room. Except the administration wrote the construction contract wrong, so the work actually took place during the first 10 weeks of school. In the room I was teaching in. While I was teaching. Ever try to teach in a construction zone? I don't recommend it.
Because I worked in the multi-purpose room, I was booted out every time someone else wanted to use the room. Because I'm a music teacher, I have 200+ pounds of teaching materials. Guess who is responsible for moving the gear every time I was evicted? Yeah, that's right. By Year 4, I was wracking up injuries at an alarming pace. One of my arches fell requiring 8 months of wearing shoe inserts. I bought a back brace and began using it when I knew I had to move gear. The worst was a torn quad muscle which took 2 years to heal, and required me to sleep on my couch for 6 months. Yes, I reported all of these incidents in person and in writing. Never did the principal offer so much as an apology, let alone relief from the hell I was experiencing. He also never apologized to the art teacher, who was given so many extra duties she nearly had a nervous breakdown -- twice! Her doctor's note got her relief only for two weeks when the principal was out of town.
I could go on and on about Year 4. The students and the parents and the sycophants. It was living in a car wreck.
Year 3 ended with a mass exodus of teachers as a result of the precipitous decline of student discipline and the removal of teacher authority. Something in Denmark was starting to smell. The rot that started with the hiring of a new principal was now rampant.
For me, Year 4 opened during the summer, standing in the workroom making copies and eavesdropping on office conversations. The one I remember involved the assistant principal, a hold over from the previous principal, and one of her friends. The assistant principal was not a happy camper. She was vociferously complaining about the now not-so-new principal's demands. Regretfully, her door closed before I could hear details.
For everyone, Year 4 saw a push to be accredited. The founder and previous school leaders purposefully eschewed accreditation because it forces a school to conform to a lot of dubious education school theories. And it takes a lot of time away from teaching in order to create useless documents. But the not-so-new principal thought accreditation was important, so we did it, lead by one of his sycophants on the faculty. To make matters worse, this erstwhile leader (who couldn't lead her arse out of a paper bag) was absent in mind and body a good deal of time because she was dealing with a personal matter. Another, highly competent, much more experienced teacher had volunteered to lead, but was turned down on the weakest of excuses - her children attended the school and therefore created a "conflict of interest."
At first I tried to ignore accreditation, but it got me in the end. In a fit of madness, my fellow arts teachers and I decided to develop a strategic plan for our department. Other departments had developed plans of their own which were being included. As the best writer of the group, I took everybody's ideas and over the course of an evening, wrote up a plan. Which I emailed to the principal for review and inclusion with the accreditation documents.
Guess what happened at 7:30 the next morning? An angry principal showed up at my office. As I struggled for consciousness, the principal went on and on about how he could not possibly include my plan as written. Why? I asked. He could not provide a coherent answer, something about building consensus. Other departments are having their plans included verbatim and no consensus was built around them, why can't the art department? Again, no coherent answer, only jive talk about how he supports the arts. My fellow arts teachers were incensed (Both quit within the next 18 months). Our plan ended up on the trash heap.
The other theme of Year 4 was incompetence. Over the summer, offices were supposed to be added to the multi-purpose room. Except the administration wrote the construction contract wrong, so the work actually took place during the first 10 weeks of school. In the room I was teaching in. While I was teaching. Ever try to teach in a construction zone? I don't recommend it.
Because I worked in the multi-purpose room, I was booted out every time someone else wanted to use the room. Because I'm a music teacher, I have 200+ pounds of teaching materials. Guess who is responsible for moving the gear every time I was evicted? Yeah, that's right. By Year 4, I was wracking up injuries at an alarming pace. One of my arches fell requiring 8 months of wearing shoe inserts. I bought a back brace and began using it when I knew I had to move gear. The worst was a torn quad muscle which took 2 years to heal, and required me to sleep on my couch for 6 months. Yes, I reported all of these incidents in person and in writing. Never did the principal offer so much as an apology, let alone relief from the hell I was experiencing. He also never apologized to the art teacher, who was given so many extra duties she nearly had a nervous breakdown -- twice! Her doctor's note got her relief only for two weeks when the principal was out of town.
I could go on and on about Year 4. The students and the parents and the sycophants. It was living in a car wreck.
Friday, October 25, 2013
The Decline of a Great School
This post is part 2 of a short series.
By the second year money was flowing like water. New materials flowed into classrooms, new computers were purchased for almost everyone, avenues of communication between school and parents were opened, teacher salaries increased, students were allowed more freedom.
Life seemed great. But that was an illusion. The principal was trying to buy good will for what was to come.
The cracks showed up in the third year. The principal started playing favorites among the faculty. The weakest, most compliant teachers became his inner circle. His pets were given leadership responsibilities, raises, extra classroom resources. His enemies were ignored, neglected and given nothing (not even what the rank-and-file got). While nearly everyone else got a smartboard and new white boards, the art teacher continued to struggle making do with a chalkboard in her classroom.
The principal started hiring new administrators. Half of the very small teacher's lounge was converted into office space. Now only a third of the faculty could be in that room at any one time. Most teacher salaries were frozen, but administrator salaries (including the principal's) continued to increase at a double digit rate. The principal started making penny wise, pound foolish requests of the faculty. Turn off the lights when you leave the room, don't set your classroom thermostat about 72 degrees. I got an idiotic lecture about heat rising because I left a door open while hauling 200 pounds of musical equipment from the multi-purpose room to the library. The principal ignores the fact I had my hands full during the process and had no way to open or shut the damn door. (No, he did not offer to help me, a very small woman, finish moving the equipment once I explained what is going on.)
Bigger, more substantial changes started to occur. Those avenues of parental communication came back to bite the faculty in the butt. Instead of listening to the faculty and their collective expertise, the principal listened more and more to selfish parent demands. Teachers were no longer allowed to discipline students. If a student was disrupting class, teachers were "encouraged" to send him to the office where nothing happened. Teachers could no longer require work to be finished before a student could go to recess or lunch. Homework requirement were loosened to the point of being non-existent. Teachers were reprimanded for requiring students to follow directions or for criticizing students about their poor quality work.
When teachers were critical of the administration, they are ignored or reprimanded. When teachers not in the principal's inner circle make requests, they were "accidentally" forgotten. I never got a response from the principal to any of my emails. When I stopped him in the hall once, and requested a conversation, the answer was, "No." The art teacher got pregnant and immediately requested a long-term, art substitute for when she needed to go on maternity leave. The principal "forgot" to find someone until three weeks before the art teacher left to have her baby. Naturally, he couldn't find anyone capable of teaching art in that short length of time, so a general sub was used, and the kids' art class for the remainder of the year was a disaster. I started getting physically injured from having to move musical instruments and equipment between teaching locations. (I had no classroom of my own.) My pleas for assistance and a minimization of my teaching locations were ignored completed. As in, I got no response whatsoever.
Direct communication between teachers and parents was all but outlawed. The administration had approve of, or at least be a part of, all messages sent to parents. There were new policies requiring teachers stay later each afternoon and come earlier each morning. Faculty meeting were held whether they were needed or not. The schedule was changed radically, without input from anyone but the principal's inner circle of pets, eliminating a prep period and assigning everyone extra duties.
The end of the third year is when the exodus started. Experienced teachers, great teachers, teachers who cared about quality education started leaving en masse. By June, 25% of the faculty had announced they were not returning in the fall.
By the second year money was flowing like water. New materials flowed into classrooms, new computers were purchased for almost everyone, avenues of communication between school and parents were opened, teacher salaries increased, students were allowed more freedom.
Life seemed great. But that was an illusion. The principal was trying to buy good will for what was to come.
The cracks showed up in the third year. The principal started playing favorites among the faculty. The weakest, most compliant teachers became his inner circle. His pets were given leadership responsibilities, raises, extra classroom resources. His enemies were ignored, neglected and given nothing (not even what the rank-and-file got). While nearly everyone else got a smartboard and new white boards, the art teacher continued to struggle making do with a chalkboard in her classroom.
The principal started hiring new administrators. Half of the very small teacher's lounge was converted into office space. Now only a third of the faculty could be in that room at any one time. Most teacher salaries were frozen, but administrator salaries (including the principal's) continued to increase at a double digit rate. The principal started making penny wise, pound foolish requests of the faculty. Turn off the lights when you leave the room, don't set your classroom thermostat about 72 degrees. I got an idiotic lecture about heat rising because I left a door open while hauling 200 pounds of musical equipment from the multi-purpose room to the library. The principal ignores the fact I had my hands full during the process and had no way to open or shut the damn door. (No, he did not offer to help me, a very small woman, finish moving the equipment once I explained what is going on.)
Bigger, more substantial changes started to occur. Those avenues of parental communication came back to bite the faculty in the butt. Instead of listening to the faculty and their collective expertise, the principal listened more and more to selfish parent demands. Teachers were no longer allowed to discipline students. If a student was disrupting class, teachers were "encouraged" to send him to the office where nothing happened. Teachers could no longer require work to be finished before a student could go to recess or lunch. Homework requirement were loosened to the point of being non-existent. Teachers were reprimanded for requiring students to follow directions or for criticizing students about their poor quality work.
When teachers were critical of the administration, they are ignored or reprimanded. When teachers not in the principal's inner circle make requests, they were "accidentally" forgotten. I never got a response from the principal to any of my emails. When I stopped him in the hall once, and requested a conversation, the answer was, "No." The art teacher got pregnant and immediately requested a long-term, art substitute for when she needed to go on maternity leave. The principal "forgot" to find someone until three weeks before the art teacher left to have her baby. Naturally, he couldn't find anyone capable of teaching art in that short length of time, so a general sub was used, and the kids' art class for the remainder of the year was a disaster. I started getting physically injured from having to move musical instruments and equipment between teaching locations. (I had no classroom of my own.) My pleas for assistance and a minimization of my teaching locations were ignored completed. As in, I got no response whatsoever.
Direct communication between teachers and parents was all but outlawed. The administration had approve of, or at least be a part of, all messages sent to parents. There were new policies requiring teachers stay later each afternoon and come earlier each morning. Faculty meeting were held whether they were needed or not. The schedule was changed radically, without input from anyone but the principal's inner circle of pets, eliminating a prep period and assigning everyone extra duties.
The end of the third year is when the exodus started. Experienced teachers, great teachers, teachers who cared about quality education started leaving en masse. By June, 25% of the faculty had announced they were not returning in the fall.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Why do administrators matter?
You may have noticed, dear reader, that I spend an inordinate amount of time complaining about administrators. Maybe I'm obsessed. Maybe I'm reacting to a string of horrible experiences brought about a series of incompetent principals. Or maybe it's because...
As your grandmother told you, "A fish rots from the head."
She's right, I've seen it myself.
I have born witness to the destruction of a perfectly fine school. The process is reminiscent of the Fall of Rome. Rome continued to exist after it fell apart, but it was a shadow of its former, glorious self. The same can be said for the school I was at. It still exists, but word on the street is, "It isn't what it once was."
The downward spiral started when a new principal was hired. The school was (and still is) obscure and poor (for a private school), so we did not have much choice in candidates. The man we chose, after a two day interview process, seemed to meet most of the criteria the board, the faculty, and the parents. But as everyone learned later, you don't get to know someone in a two day interview. All you get to know the person's carefully crafted public image. The one that is desperate to please all the stakeholders and land the six-figure job. The fish is still fresh.
And it stays like that for awhile longer. The new principal was afraid, mostly of screwing up. For the first year, everything was fine. The school hummed away on the fumes of the previous principal's competence. By the second year, though things started to change. Small things, seemingly trivial. A policy here, a new rule there. Sure the new policies and rules made the faculty's job harder, but it didn't really matter. The new principal was spending money like water on salaries (not just his own), and benefits, and classroom equipment, and other perks.
What no one realized at the time was that the principal was trying to buy his employees' loyalty. Rigor mortis was starting to set in.
To be continued....
As your grandmother told you, "A fish rots from the head."
She's right, I've seen it myself.
I have born witness to the destruction of a perfectly fine school. The process is reminiscent of the Fall of Rome. Rome continued to exist after it fell apart, but it was a shadow of its former, glorious self. The same can be said for the school I was at. It still exists, but word on the street is, "It isn't what it once was."
The downward spiral started when a new principal was hired. The school was (and still is) obscure and poor (for a private school), so we did not have much choice in candidates. The man we chose, after a two day interview process, seemed to meet most of the criteria the board, the faculty, and the parents. But as everyone learned later, you don't get to know someone in a two day interview. All you get to know the person's carefully crafted public image. The one that is desperate to please all the stakeholders and land the six-figure job. The fish is still fresh.
And it stays like that for awhile longer. The new principal was afraid, mostly of screwing up. For the first year, everything was fine. The school hummed away on the fumes of the previous principal's competence. By the second year, though things started to change. Small things, seemingly trivial. A policy here, a new rule there. Sure the new policies and rules made the faculty's job harder, but it didn't really matter. The new principal was spending money like water on salaries (not just his own), and benefits, and classroom equipment, and other perks.
What no one realized at the time was that the principal was trying to buy his employees' loyalty. Rigor mortis was starting to set in.
To be continued....
Friday, October 11, 2013
Extra Credit Bonus: Would You Like Some Cheese to Go with That?
There are days when I understand teacher bashing; I really do. Take yesterday for instance.
Last night, I remembered to turn on my phone. It had been off for 36 hours. (Yes, this happens to me rather a lot.) There are three messages on it from a fellow itinerant music teacher. Can I possibly switch some classes with her? She claims it'll be an easy switch; we are at the same school on the same day.
Turns out this teacher is not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. She read the schedule wrong and we are at the same school on different days. (Okay, what should I expect from a person who leaves a voicemail message and then forgets to hang up the phone?) But still she seems desperate to switch.
Why? Because she wants to teach second and third grade exclusively and have only two classes to prepare. Seriously?! You selfish little *bleep*!! You want to rearrange everyone else's life just so you don't have to work as hard. And you're trying to convince the person with 14 different classes to prep to accommodate your lazy ass!
No, I think not honey. Too bad you only have one section of 5th grade. I'm in the same boat, and you don't hear me whining. Get the work done and stop trying to weasel your way out of it. (She was obviously going to attempt the same routine with another teacher who also works at the same school on a different day than her.) All the teachers I've ever known, elementary and secondary, have at least five different preps. And they meet with their classes every single day, not just once a week like we do.
Good grief! If this were the only instance of crybaby teacher moaning, I'd shrug it off. Sad it's not. Far, far from it.
Last night, I remembered to turn on my phone. It had been off for 36 hours. (Yes, this happens to me rather a lot.) There are three messages on it from a fellow itinerant music teacher. Can I possibly switch some classes with her? She claims it'll be an easy switch; we are at the same school on the same day.
Turns out this teacher is not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. She read the schedule wrong and we are at the same school on different days. (Okay, what should I expect from a person who leaves a voicemail message and then forgets to hang up the phone?) But still she seems desperate to switch.
Why? Because she wants to teach second and third grade exclusively and have only two classes to prepare. Seriously?! You selfish little *bleep*!! You want to rearrange everyone else's life just so you don't have to work as hard. And you're trying to convince the person with 14 different classes to prep to accommodate your lazy ass!
No, I think not honey. Too bad you only have one section of 5th grade. I'm in the same boat, and you don't hear me whining. Get the work done and stop trying to weasel your way out of it. (She was obviously going to attempt the same routine with another teacher who also works at the same school on a different day than her.) All the teachers I've ever known, elementary and secondary, have at least five different preps. And they meet with their classes every single day, not just once a week like we do.
Good grief! If this were the only instance of crybaby teacher moaning, I'd shrug it off. Sad it's not. Far, far from it.
When I Come to Power - Administrators
Administrator - a person who wants to make a lot of money, does not have any marketable knowledge or skills, and hates teaching.
Every administrator I have ever worked for has spent less than 10 years teaching in a classroom. One of them had precisely 0 hours of teaching experience before assuming control of a school. The average seems to be about three years.
No one can master the art of teaching in a scant three years. No one. Many claim they have, but they are liars. How do I know? Science tells me, that's how. Science is proving that it takes 10, 000 hours of practice to master any craft be it golf, jazz saxophone, teaching, or underwater basket weaving.
Why should being a master teacher be important to administrators? Oh, I don't know...Maybe because administrators are supposed to manage their teachers!!! Manage, as in direct, govern, or supervise. If you do not know what is supposed to be going on, tell me how, on God's green earth, are you direct and run it? You have no freakin' clue what has to happen, how is should happen, when or why it should happen. You are - in a word - clueless.
Being clueless, generally wise speaking, is A Very Bad Thing (TM). So, when I come to power, becoming a school principal would be very easy. There would be only two requirements #1: Have at least 10 years of classroom teaching experience. #2: Have spent at least 10 years running a business with at least 3 employees. Why #2? Well, that's another post.
Every administrator I have ever worked for has spent less than 10 years teaching in a classroom. One of them had precisely 0 hours of teaching experience before assuming control of a school. The average seems to be about three years.
No one can master the art of teaching in a scant three years. No one. Many claim they have, but they are liars. How do I know? Science tells me, that's how. Science is proving that it takes 10, 000 hours of practice to master any craft be it golf, jazz saxophone, teaching, or underwater basket weaving.
Why should being a master teacher be important to administrators? Oh, I don't know...Maybe because administrators are supposed to manage their teachers!!! Manage, as in direct, govern, or supervise. If you do not know what is supposed to be going on, tell me how, on God's green earth, are you direct and run it? You have no freakin' clue what has to happen, how is should happen, when or why it should happen. You are - in a word - clueless.
Being clueless, generally wise speaking, is A Very Bad Thing (TM). So, when I come to power, becoming a school principal would be very easy. There would be only two requirements #1: Have at least 10 years of classroom teaching experience. #2: Have spent at least 10 years running a business with at least 3 employees. Why #2? Well, that's another post.
Friday, October 4, 2013
What's wrong with American Education - Reason #248593
Crappy Curriculum
There are amazing curricula out there, for every subject under the sun from Art to Zoology. Granted some of it is pricey, but lots of it is affordable, some is even (shudder) free. Why is it that American teachers insist on using sub-standard crap for lessons? Why are American teachers proud of the shit they use? Nobody else points to a steaming pile of poo, inhales loudly, and declares it to be a bed of roses. Yet American teachers do.
Are we really that anti-intellectual? Are we really that stupid?
There are experts and scientists in every field (yes, even music) who have done (and are continuing to do) the research and *know* the best way to teach their subject. How to break down the knowledge and skills. How to sequence it. How to tailor it to different types of student. They are shouting their findings from the rooftops. Some are writing books with easy-to-follow lessons. Others are giving workshops and attending conferences for teachers. Yet the biggest consumers of these amazing resources?
Homeschoolers, that's who.
Now homeschoolers do not have any special enlightenment. They work hard to find the right materials to suit their students, and they listen to the experts, not the publisher's sales rep with the flashiest swag. Can't we teachers climb off our high horses and learn something from these dedicated parents?
Oh yeah, right. Teachers don't get to choose curriculum. Administrators do.
*headdesk*
There are amazing curricula out there, for every subject under the sun from Art to Zoology. Granted some of it is pricey, but lots of it is affordable, some is even (shudder) free. Why is it that American teachers insist on using sub-standard crap for lessons? Why are American teachers proud of the shit they use? Nobody else points to a steaming pile of poo, inhales loudly, and declares it to be a bed of roses. Yet American teachers do.
Are we really that anti-intellectual? Are we really that stupid?
There are experts and scientists in every field (yes, even music) who have done (and are continuing to do) the research and *know* the best way to teach their subject. How to break down the knowledge and skills. How to sequence it. How to tailor it to different types of student. They are shouting their findings from the rooftops. Some are writing books with easy-to-follow lessons. Others are giving workshops and attending conferences for teachers. Yet the biggest consumers of these amazing resources?
Homeschoolers, that's who.
Now homeschoolers do not have any special enlightenment. They work hard to find the right materials to suit their students, and they listen to the experts, not the publisher's sales rep with the flashiest swag. Can't we teachers climb off our high horses and learn something from these dedicated parents?
Oh yeah, right. Teachers don't get to choose curriculum. Administrators do.
*headdesk*
Friday, September 27, 2013
On the Road to Hell
Yes, I teach. But I sure as hell don't understand the vast majority of teachers. Probably never will.
Modern teaching is the queerest of careers. Knowledge and expertise are not only unimportant, they are constantly and continuously degraded by those who are supposedly the masters of the field. (But that's another post.) Teaching is the only subject where it is better to care about the job rather than do the job well. Just as long as a teacher cares about little Johnny, it doesn't matter whether she teaches him to read or do math or the contents of the Bill of Rights.
My question is: Which will be important for Johnny twenty years from now? Knowing how to read, or having vague memories of someone who cared about him 12 years ago?
When you come right down to it doesn't teaching Johnny how to do math show that you care? Doesn't teaching Johnny how to behave in civilized society show that you care? Doesn't making sure he has the tools to live the life he wants a demonstration of love? One that is much, much more powerful than a few dozen smiles and hugs?
Think about this the next time you tell a teacher she's mean, or strict, or demanding. Think about the fact she sees her students not as they are today but how they will be twenty years in the future. Think about the multitude of ways people show one another they care.
Think about it.
Modern teaching is the queerest of careers. Knowledge and expertise are not only unimportant, they are constantly and continuously degraded by those who are supposedly the masters of the field. (But that's another post.) Teaching is the only subject where it is better to care about the job rather than do the job well. Just as long as a teacher cares about little Johnny, it doesn't matter whether she teaches him to read or do math or the contents of the Bill of Rights.
My question is: Which will be important for Johnny twenty years from now? Knowing how to read, or having vague memories of someone who cared about him 12 years ago?
When you come right down to it doesn't teaching Johnny how to do math show that you care? Doesn't teaching Johnny how to behave in civilized society show that you care? Doesn't making sure he has the tools to live the life he wants a demonstration of love? One that is much, much more powerful than a few dozen smiles and hugs?
Think about this the next time you tell a teacher she's mean, or strict, or demanding. Think about the fact she sees her students not as they are today but how they will be twenty years in the future. Think about the multitude of ways people show one another they care.
Think about it.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Stranger in a Strange Land
My teaching career has not been an easy one. Rather than a smooth superhighway of success and growth, mine looks more like a heavily rutted logging track. My supervisors pick on me regularly, while at the same time parents and their children love my work.
We cherish the individuality of our students, why can't we do the same for teachers?
My supervisors expect me to fit into a very specific mold. I'm not suppose to require all the students to pay attention. I'm not supposed to care when students break my rules. (In fact it would be better if I didn't have rules at all.) I'm not supposed to give consequences when students misbehave. I'm not supposed to require all the students to participate in class (in other words, do the work) if they don't want to. I'm not supposed to ask for silence before giving instructions. I'm not supposed to restrict the bathroom privileges for older (grade 3 and up) students. I'm not supposed to give students suggests on how their work could be better.
You know what? Doing all of these things makes me a great teacher. I am honest with my students, and I take pride in that honesty. If something is not right, be it academic work, or behavior, we work on making it better. My goal is to teach students, not to entertain them. I know why my methods of instruction work and the science they are rooted in. The love I have for my students is demonstrated with congratulating their accomplishments and challenging them to strive for excellence.
Parents love this. After school I tutor students privately, and each year I receive more and more requests for lessons. In the past week alone, I have added six new students. It has become quite the contortionist act to schedule them all. I do no advertising, all of these after school clients come from word-of-mouth referrals. Some of them don't need tutoring any more, but continue on anyway. When I ask why, they say that they really enjoy how I teach and what they learn.
But because I don't look like the other classroom teachers, I am somehow deficient. I should use the crappy materials "because the kids like it." I should let the kids do what they please "because otherwise they will feel stressed." Every time I try to explain what I'm doing and why, I am shouted down. Every time I point out the disconnect between their requests and what my private clients say, I am shouted down. Every time I show these supervisors the accomplishments of my students, they are dismissed out-of-hand and then I'm shouted down.
I'm an intellectual drowning in anti-intellectual flood. Somehow I must keep swimming. Sometimes I feel like Hamlet, only I'm not questioning my continued existence. I'm questioning whether I should hold to my ideals. I take solace in these guys.
“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." -- Albert Einstein.
“Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.” -- Ralph Waldo Emerson.
We cherish the individuality of our students, why can't we do the same for teachers?
My supervisors expect me to fit into a very specific mold. I'm not suppose to require all the students to pay attention. I'm not supposed to care when students break my rules. (In fact it would be better if I didn't have rules at all.) I'm not supposed to give consequences when students misbehave. I'm not supposed to require all the students to participate in class (in other words, do the work) if they don't want to. I'm not supposed to ask for silence before giving instructions. I'm not supposed to restrict the bathroom privileges for older (grade 3 and up) students. I'm not supposed to give students suggests on how their work could be better.
You know what? Doing all of these things makes me a great teacher. I am honest with my students, and I take pride in that honesty. If something is not right, be it academic work, or behavior, we work on making it better. My goal is to teach students, not to entertain them. I know why my methods of instruction work and the science they are rooted in. The love I have for my students is demonstrated with congratulating their accomplishments and challenging them to strive for excellence.
Parents love this. After school I tutor students privately, and each year I receive more and more requests for lessons. In the past week alone, I have added six new students. It has become quite the contortionist act to schedule them all. I do no advertising, all of these after school clients come from word-of-mouth referrals. Some of them don't need tutoring any more, but continue on anyway. When I ask why, they say that they really enjoy how I teach and what they learn.
But because I don't look like the other classroom teachers, I am somehow deficient. I should use the crappy materials "because the kids like it." I should let the kids do what they please "because otherwise they will feel stressed." Every time I try to explain what I'm doing and why, I am shouted down. Every time I point out the disconnect between their requests and what my private clients say, I am shouted down. Every time I show these supervisors the accomplishments of my students, they are dismissed out-of-hand and then I'm shouted down.
I'm an intellectual drowning in anti-intellectual flood. Somehow I must keep swimming. Sometimes I feel like Hamlet, only I'm not questioning my continued existence. I'm questioning whether I should hold to my ideals. I take solace in these guys.
“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." -- Albert Einstein.
“Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.” -- Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Extra Credit Bonus - Boredom
Courtesy of the Core Knowledge Blog, it's a two post Friday. Got to keep it short though, because my tendonitis is acting up and touch typing is painful.
Mark Bauerlein, in the role of guest blogger, tackles a facet of student boredom in school. And does it quite well, pointing out that when high school students start whining about boredom adults step in and try to alleviate it. But if you are bored with university level work, professors don't give a rat's ass. Ultimately, it is students who must be able to handle boredom and deal with it themselves without outside intervention.
Unfortunately, Mr. Bauerlein does not follow his train of thought through to its logical conclusion. Children in elementary school need to learn, must learn the fact, that the GREAT MAJORITY OF LIFE IS MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING! No one was put on this earth to entertain you. You are not the center of the universe; your every whim will not be catered to. Your boredom is way down our list of priorities, somewhere after, "Did I eat enough garlic today?" That's part of the point of going to school in the first place, learning to get along with other people and to learn how to delay gratification.
Tough cookies if your teacher makes you read books without pictures, or forces you to complete the entire sheet of 30 multiplication problems before you go out to recess. Responsible members of civilization get their work done before they seek out entertainment because if they don't, entertainment will quickly become impossible to obtain.
Your teacher is making you read 19th century poetry and solve algebraic equations, what possible use could this be? Well, after you fail to make the NBA or found the next Facebook or win the lottery you may need to get a real job. You may need to understand how humans think and/or the logic of computers. You may need to talk to your bosses about what interests them, and it probably won't be the Kardashians or Grand Theft Auto V. You have no idea what your future holds, and neither do your teachers. But what your teachers do know is the body of knowledge that has allowed millions of people to lead successful lives in thousands of different professions. Your teacher lives in a world you can only guess at, and knows how to be successful there. That world contains 19th century poetry, algebra, history, biology and, you guessed it, boredom.
Children can and should learn how to deal with boredom, and they should do it at a young age. High school and college are far too late. By then their transformation to narcissistic, spoiled brats is complete and nothing will be able change them.
Mark Bauerlein, in the role of guest blogger, tackles a facet of student boredom in school. And does it quite well, pointing out that when high school students start whining about boredom adults step in and try to alleviate it. But if you are bored with university level work, professors don't give a rat's ass. Ultimately, it is students who must be able to handle boredom and deal with it themselves without outside intervention.
Unfortunately, Mr. Bauerlein does not follow his train of thought through to its logical conclusion. Children in elementary school need to learn, must learn the fact, that the GREAT MAJORITY OF LIFE IS MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING! No one was put on this earth to entertain you. You are not the center of the universe; your every whim will not be catered to. Your boredom is way down our list of priorities, somewhere after, "Did I eat enough garlic today?" That's part of the point of going to school in the first place, learning to get along with other people and to learn how to delay gratification.
Tough cookies if your teacher makes you read books without pictures, or forces you to complete the entire sheet of 30 multiplication problems before you go out to recess. Responsible members of civilization get their work done before they seek out entertainment because if they don't, entertainment will quickly become impossible to obtain.
Your teacher is making you read 19th century poetry and solve algebraic equations, what possible use could this be? Well, after you fail to make the NBA or found the next Facebook or win the lottery you may need to get a real job. You may need to understand how humans think and/or the logic of computers. You may need to talk to your bosses about what interests them, and it probably won't be the Kardashians or Grand Theft Auto V. You have no idea what your future holds, and neither do your teachers. But what your teachers do know is the body of knowledge that has allowed millions of people to lead successful lives in thousands of different professions. Your teacher lives in a world you can only guess at, and knows how to be successful there. That world contains 19th century poetry, algebra, history, biology and, you guessed it, boredom.
Children can and should learn how to deal with boredom, and they should do it at a young age. High school and college are far too late. By then their transformation to narcissistic, spoiled brats is complete and nothing will be able change them.
Friday, September 13, 2013
What's Wrong with American Education - Reason #457392
"I don't want students to know what they're learning."
Believe it or not, I've heard this sentence more than once, from more than one teacher. Every time I do, it leaves me apoplectic. Why on God's green earth do you not want your students to know what they are learning? Is there some contagious disease that comes with knowledge and understanding?
If you do not tell your students what they are learning, then you are not teaching.
In other words, doing is not teaching. (Neither is telling, but that's another post.) Doing is just doing. Doing an activity does not confer understanding on its participants. Understanding is the key to both teaching and learning. Teachers break down a subject and present it (through a variety of means) so students can understand it. Certainly doing, or practicing, is a part of the learning process, but there is much more to it. There is vocabulary, identification, reasoning, relationships, discovery, etc. If I want a class to learn steady beat, we will practice it constantly and in a variety of settings. But we will also define the words "steady" and "beat." We will listen to pieces with and without a steady beat. The students would learn to recognize a steady beat in music they hear. We will explore the connection between beat and tempo; and when the beat changes on purpose. We will answer the question: Why does music have a beat?
Anyone can train a monkey to keep a steady beat. But, aside imitating a human, the monkey has not learned anything. Surely we should strive for more when teaching our children.
Believe it or not, I've heard this sentence more than once, from more than one teacher. Every time I do, it leaves me apoplectic. Why on God's green earth do you not want your students to know what they are learning? Is there some contagious disease that comes with knowledge and understanding?
If you do not tell your students what they are learning, then you are not teaching.
In other words, doing is not teaching. (Neither is telling, but that's another post.) Doing is just doing. Doing an activity does not confer understanding on its participants. Understanding is the key to both teaching and learning. Teachers break down a subject and present it (through a variety of means) so students can understand it. Certainly doing, or practicing, is a part of the learning process, but there is much more to it. There is vocabulary, identification, reasoning, relationships, discovery, etc. If I want a class to learn steady beat, we will practice it constantly and in a variety of settings. But we will also define the words "steady" and "beat." We will listen to pieces with and without a steady beat. The students would learn to recognize a steady beat in music they hear. We will explore the connection between beat and tempo; and when the beat changes on purpose. We will answer the question: Why does music have a beat?
Anyone can train a monkey to keep a steady beat. But, aside imitating a human, the monkey has not learned anything. Surely we should strive for more when teaching our children.
Friday, September 6, 2013
The First Day of Faculty In-Service
All right, hello, nice to see you all.
Welcome to Hillsdale Equality, Learning, and Leadership Academy. As
the more perceptive of you may have noticed, I am the principal but
you can call me John if you like. We try to keep things informal as
well as informational here. That's just a little joke. You're all
here for the next 10 months, which seems like an eternity, so you'll
get to know everyone pretty well by the end. But for now I'm going
have to split everyone up into groups.
Question. No, you may not use the
toilet. If you had read your handbook carefully, as I requested, you
would have seen that there is no relief for faculty between nine and
noon, what I like to call Prime Time Learning. Plan ahead next time.
You expect this of your students, so I will hold you to the same
standard. That's only fair, isn't it?
Right then, let's split you up. Say,
can you hear me at the back? This thing always shorts out when I use
it. Yes, you can? Good.
Substitutes, absentee reserve teachers,
guest teachers: You can go now. If we want you, we'll call. But you
should know, the administrative team has prohibited faculty illness
for the months of August, September, October, November, December,
January, February, March, April, May and June.
Alumni of Stanford Education School and
Columbia Teacher's College: We are so lucky you have chosen to work
at our humble campus! Please, take a pew up front, you are all
invited to lunch with me at The Palm. Did you know I graduated from
the Stanford with a master's in Educational Leadership?
Teachers who want to get out of the
classroom as soon as possible: My God there's a lot of you. Let's
split you up into Teacher for America members and everyone else.
TFA-ers, go join Michelle over there, on the right. She will
introduce you to TFA's regulations and culture. Remember all school
activities are required; you must attend TFA functions on your own
time, not the school's. Young non-TFA-ers, sit behind the Stanford
and Columbia graduates. Get to know each other, networking is so
important in this business. Old non-TFA-ers, take a chair in the back
and stay quiet, nobody cares about you.
Art, music, drama, shop, P.E. and
foreign language teachers: Enrollment is up so we don't have enough
classroom space this year. You can share the three quonset huts
behind the stadium. Because all administrators are getting 20%
raises this year, we cannot give you any money for supplies or
equipment. As I'm sure you are well aware, fundraisers and donations
for specific programs are strictly prohibited. Rest assured though,
I love and support all of your subjects and believe them to be an
important part of a well-rounded education.
Computer teachers and IT specialists:
Here are the latest catalogues from Apple, Microsoft, Google,
SmartTech, and Samsung. Order whatever you'd like. We want to build
our reputation as a cutting edge, computer oriented, and technology
forward school.
Special ed teachers, aides, assistants,
therapists, tutors: On the back wall you will find a list of who
will be working with us this year. I know I said enrollment is up,
especially special needs students, but we want to be inclusive to all
students. The administrative team has decided all special needs
students will be mainstreamed in every subject regardless of
disability. Now those of you who are staying, sit next to the
technology department to get your equipment orders in. Don't worry
about the cost, your budget was tripled over the summer.
Rookies, interns, non-credentialed
teachers: You have each been assigned the smallest classrooms we
could find. As per handbook rules, you are not allowed to leave you
classroom during the school day or speak with any veteran teachers
from any school at any time for any reason. Call the office if you
need help, but remember we are very busy people and may not always be
available to assist you.
Student teachers: Will not be with us
for another month or two. Their universities' have added extra
required classes, which must be completed before they join us.
Trapped veteran teachers: Join the old
burn outs in the back. You know nothing about education theory,
pedagogical best practices, or child development. Only recent ed
school graduates have the suitable training to properly teach
children. You are welcome to make an appointment to meet with me
individually and I will pretend to listen, nod, smile absently, spout
soothing platitudes, lecture you on my highly-insightful career, and
ignore everything you say.
Everyone settled? Excellent! There
has been a lot of talk about professional development and I want to
clarify a few items. I hardly need tell you teachers must be life
long learners, so we are expanding our professional development
offerings to you. These are required events, and all faculty must
attend every minute of every session, even those not specific to your
teaching assignment. Remember good ideas can be found everywhere, if
you just look hard enough, you'll find them. All professional
development sessions will be held here on campus and are carefully
selected by the administrative team. Do not bring anything to
professional development sessions, those who are found to be
multi-tasking will be severely reprimanded. If you want to go to an
off-campus workshop, seminar, or conference, you will have to get my
approval, prove that student learning will not be effected by your
absence and pay for all expenses yourself. Columbia and Stanford
alumni, there are a lot great outside offerings I want to you to
pursue; we will talk further about this over lunch.
Don't be afraid to stop by my office to
chat, but try to avoid lunch, recess, after school, or any time that
I'm busy. I have to go now; Pam here will give you class schedules.
And rosters, and calendars, and books, and manipulatives, and
scripts. Then Dave will review the faculty handbook, which you've
already read. Tomorrow we will begin the new professional
development program with an all day seminar.
Bye now. Sorry I can't stay. My
driver is waiting to take me to the board retreat. Remember we're
here for the children!
[Thank you to Rowan Atkinson and Mr. Teachbad for their inspiration.]
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Dear Administrator - part 4576849
Dear Administrator,
I hate you with a passion you can only dream of. The ferocious energy of a supernova cools in comparison to my hatred of you. The reasons I hate you could fill the entire Library of Congress. There is not enough matter in the universe to make the ink to fully describe my loathing for your existence. So I will content myself with describing merely one of your faults, best expressed by the classic line from "A Few Good Men":
YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
You cannot bear to hear the truth spoken to your face. You may claim otherwise, but we all know it's a lie. Every time an employee speaks the truth to you, he is immediately blackballed. The truth that you are doing a shitty job, that your leadership skills resemble those of creamed corn, that your school is poorly run, that the students are running wild because you have no discipline policy, et cetera ad infinitum. (No, I'm not telling you what that means, go look it up you moron.) Said honest employee is hassled with the worst students in the school, being forced to move classrooms, assigned yard duty before school and during lunch, becoming subject to countless "drop-in" observations, and whatever torture you devise as revenge. But that's not the worst offense.
God forbid a teacher tell any parents the truth! That you are watering down the school's curriculum, that you plan to cut programs in order to maintain your (and your cronies) exorbitant salaries, that you hire weak teachers intentionally so you can bully them, that you are systematically dismantling the school's great programs and replacing them with ones you've heard about at ed school. We can't have ethical teachers! NO SIR!!! We can't have that. No, no, no, no, no.
You are an Educational Dalek, (No moron, I'm not telling what this is either.) you must EXTERMINATE! Anyone and everyone who is honest and ethical and courageous enough to say out loud the emperor has no clothes.
This is why I hate you. You are the antithesis of everything we want to teacher our students.
Now piss off. I have students to teach.
I hate you with a passion you can only dream of. The ferocious energy of a supernova cools in comparison to my hatred of you. The reasons I hate you could fill the entire Library of Congress. There is not enough matter in the universe to make the ink to fully describe my loathing for your existence. So I will content myself with describing merely one of your faults, best expressed by the classic line from "A Few Good Men":
YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
You cannot bear to hear the truth spoken to your face. You may claim otherwise, but we all know it's a lie. Every time an employee speaks the truth to you, he is immediately blackballed. The truth that you are doing a shitty job, that your leadership skills resemble those of creamed corn, that your school is poorly run, that the students are running wild because you have no discipline policy, et cetera ad infinitum. (No, I'm not telling you what that means, go look it up you moron.) Said honest employee is hassled with the worst students in the school, being forced to move classrooms, assigned yard duty before school and during lunch, becoming subject to countless "drop-in" observations, and whatever torture you devise as revenge. But that's not the worst offense.
God forbid a teacher tell any parents the truth! That you are watering down the school's curriculum, that you plan to cut programs in order to maintain your (and your cronies) exorbitant salaries, that you hire weak teachers intentionally so you can bully them, that you are systematically dismantling the school's great programs and replacing them with ones you've heard about at ed school. We can't have ethical teachers! NO SIR!!! We can't have that. No, no, no, no, no.
You are an Educational Dalek, (No moron, I'm not telling what this is either.) you must EXTERMINATE! Anyone and everyone who is honest and ethical and courageous enough to say out loud the emperor has no clothes.
This is why I hate you. You are the antithesis of everything we want to teacher our students.
Now piss off. I have students to teach.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
The Problem with American Education #785495
As a traveling music teacher, I go to a lot of schools and see the inner workings of dozens of classrooms. Tuesday was my turn at the poorest school I've ever worked in. Courtesy of the following exchange, it is now the most pathetic school.
I want to read a book about orchestral instruments to the students, and ask the classroom teacher, "Is there a particular place where the students gather when you read to them?"
Classroom Teacher: "Oh, I don't read to them."
Me (out loud): "We'll just stay at the desks."
Me (in my head): "You call yourself a teacher, yet you do NOT read aloud to your students?! What kind of idiot are you?"
Then I looked around. This particular classroom has always struck me as odd for some reason I could never identify. Strangely Spartan and bare. Then it hit me.
Books. There are no books in this classroom. No textbooks, no novels, no readers, no picture books, nothing.
Walking to the parking lot, I realized these kids are doomed. When I got home, I found The Core Knowledge Blog's latest entry, which confirmed my conclusion. It makes me sad, for even though they are materially and intellectually impoverished, some of these second graders are still curious. But I can see the innocent thirst for knowledge dying before my eyes being replaced by bitter indifference.
I want to read a book about orchestral instruments to the students, and ask the classroom teacher, "Is there a particular place where the students gather when you read to them?"
Classroom Teacher: "Oh, I don't read to them."
Me (out loud): "We'll just stay at the desks."
Me (in my head): "You call yourself a teacher, yet you do NOT read aloud to your students?! What kind of idiot are you?"
Then I looked around. This particular classroom has always struck me as odd for some reason I could never identify. Strangely Spartan and bare. Then it hit me.
Books. There are no books in this classroom. No textbooks, no novels, no readers, no picture books, nothing.
Walking to the parking lot, I realized these kids are doomed. When I got home, I found The Core Knowledge Blog's latest entry, which confirmed my conclusion. It makes me sad, for even though they are materially and intellectually impoverished, some of these second graders are still curious. But I can see the innocent thirst for knowledge dying before my eyes being replaced by bitter indifference.
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