Professional development this year is focused on "whole brain teaching." Which was not what I expected.
Whole brain teaching is not whole, does not use the brain, and teaches nothing. (Think of it as the Holy Roman Empire of teaching.) In fact none of those words were ever used in the workshop. What they have to do with "whole brain teaching" is decidedly unclear.
In reality "whole brain teaching" is a classroom management technique modeled after military boot camp. Yes, you read that right. Wrap it up in an innocuous, Teacher's College-esque name, and you can sell the Marine Corps to suburban, oh-so-progressive parents.
When using whole brain teaching, the teacher is supposed to call the class to attention by yelling, "Class!" and the students are supposed to yell back, "Yes!" Students are expected to mimic their teacher's yelling style and inflection. Substitute "Class!" with "Ten-hut!" and "Yes!" with "Huh!" and you've got Day 1 of every military's basic training.
But wait, there's more! When you want students to talk to a partner, you yell "Teach!" and the students are supposed to yell "Okay!" back before they regurgitate whatever content you just said to their neighbor who was listening to the exact same thing. If you want your students to sit up straight and look at you, you yell "Hands and eyes!" which your students are supposed to yell back while fixing their posture.
Basically if you want your class to do something, you yell at them. They then all yell back and follow the directions. Everyone does everything out loud and at the same time. Yet the quacks who invented this system claims that it fosters creativity and individuality. Oh sure, let's all be unique -- in the exact same way!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Friday, October 24, 2014
8 out of 10 Critics do Thinking
Excellent free piece in the Wall Street Journal on the phrase "critical thinking" and its slippery definition. While focused on employers, a professional educator was used as a source. She offered the following definition:
How many people out there who know how to think are actually spending time contemplating thinking? I'm not. I spend my time actually thinking, and, after 30+ years, I'm getting kind of good at it.
With respect to schools, can you imagine how boring it would be to sit in a class being forced to think about your thinking? (Yes, there are such classes. And yes, I've seen them.) If you were subject to that class, wouldn't you hate school too?
Instead of teaching "thinking about your thinking," how about going into the way-way-way-back machine and teaching logic? That way students can learn how to think while analyzing other people's ideas and arguing about them. Sounds like much more fun to me.
“Thinking about your thinking, while you’re thinking, in order to improve your thinking.” -Linda Elder, educational psychologist; president, Foundation for Critical ThinkingHuh? What the fuck is this?! An Abbott and Costello sketch?!!
How many people out there who know how to think are actually spending time contemplating thinking? I'm not. I spend my time actually thinking, and, after 30+ years, I'm getting kind of good at it.
With respect to schools, can you imagine how boring it would be to sit in a class being forced to think about your thinking? (Yes, there are such classes. And yes, I've seen them.) If you were subject to that class, wouldn't you hate school too?
Instead of teaching "thinking about your thinking," how about going into the way-way-way-back machine and teaching logic? That way students can learn how to think while analyzing other people's ideas and arguing about them. Sounds like much more fun to me.
Friday, October 17, 2014
First Staff Meeting
A good thing about the music education Wal-Mart is we only have staff meetings once a month and the meetings have a defined purposed. This month was the beginning of the year assessment procedure, as explained by the official curriculum writer. Boy, what a fun meeting to attend!
One new employee is a middle-aged lady who obviously has a brain in her head. Immediately, she laid into the crappy assessment design. The assessments are vague and poorly worded. One assessment question covers multiple skills and knowledge. Last, but certainly not least, the assessments are only somewhat related to the activities they are meant to test. Oh, and they are also full of mistakes and missing questions. They are a classic example of a fubar project.
The official curriculum writer also wrote the assessments. She does not have enough intellect to realize how truly terrible they are. For example one item asks for how many students can "perform half notes, quarter notes, eighth notes, sixteenth notes, dotted notes, quarter rests and syncopated rhythms." Now laying aside the question of what is meant by "perform," eight different different rhythms are listed. In one of my classes, everyone can perform quarter notes, eighth notes and quarter rests. A third of the students can do half notes. A couple of kids know sixteenth notes (they take private lessons). Nobody knows a thing about dotted notes or syncopation. How the hell am I supposed to reduce all that to one number? 0% of the students can do everything, 100% can do part of it.
This new employee pointed this idiocy out in great detail, and the curriculum writer had absolutely no answer for her. The curriculum writer kept uttering inane platitudes about how the assessments are "a work in progress," and they are "new to me too." Then came the sentence that nearly caused me to fall out of my chair, "I hear your frustrations and share them."
WHAT?! You share our frustrations? Well ain't that just lovely, sweetie. Here's the thing. You wrote the damn things, if you actually were frustrated and had a brain between your ears, you would rewrite the silly things so they'd make sense. But sense ain't exactly your strong suit, is it? Don't tell me you share our frustrations because your actions tell me you obviously do not.
One new employee is a middle-aged lady who obviously has a brain in her head. Immediately, she laid into the crappy assessment design. The assessments are vague and poorly worded. One assessment question covers multiple skills and knowledge. Last, but certainly not least, the assessments are only somewhat related to the activities they are meant to test. Oh, and they are also full of mistakes and missing questions. They are a classic example of a fubar project.
The official curriculum writer also wrote the assessments. She does not have enough intellect to realize how truly terrible they are. For example one item asks for how many students can "perform half notes, quarter notes, eighth notes, sixteenth notes, dotted notes, quarter rests and syncopated rhythms." Now laying aside the question of what is meant by "perform," eight different different rhythms are listed. In one of my classes, everyone can perform quarter notes, eighth notes and quarter rests. A third of the students can do half notes. A couple of kids know sixteenth notes (they take private lessons). Nobody knows a thing about dotted notes or syncopation. How the hell am I supposed to reduce all that to one number? 0% of the students can do everything, 100% can do part of it.
This new employee pointed this idiocy out in great detail, and the curriculum writer had absolutely no answer for her. The curriculum writer kept uttering inane platitudes about how the assessments are "a work in progress," and they are "new to me too." Then came the sentence that nearly caused me to fall out of my chair, "I hear your frustrations and share them."
WHAT?! You share our frustrations? Well ain't that just lovely, sweetie. Here's the thing. You wrote the damn things, if you actually were frustrated and had a brain between your ears, you would rewrite the silly things so they'd make sense. But sense ain't exactly your strong suit, is it? Don't tell me you share our frustrations because your actions tell me you obviously do not.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Something rotten, but not in Denmark
When I read job listings and browse prospective employer's websites, I often see references to the school using "Responsive Classroom." But I've never known what that meant, until I found this little list on one school's site. If you ever wanted a concise version of everything wrong in American education, look no further. My commentary appears in blue italics.
No, no, no, no, NO!!! Just no! It's not. Why? Because most people have one chance to learn the academics they need to succeed in this world -- that's when they are in school. Everyone is forced, for their entire lives, to learn the "social curriculum." (I'm using quotes because I'm not sure what that phrase really means.)
2. The greatest cognitive growth occurs through social interaction.
Again, sorry, that's not necessarily true! In elementary school music class, scientists have proven that children learn the most when they sing by themselves! Not with a group, not with an adult. By themselves, alone, without social interaction. The learning process is entirely contained within a person's head. Take a casual look around, and you will find the most educated people you know are the most widely read, another solitary, non-social activity.
3. To be successful academically and socially, children need a set of social skills: cooperation, assertion, responsibility, empathy, and self-control.
To be successful socially, yes, these skills are of the utmost importance. To be successful academically, not so much. Those stereotype nerds and academics came from a reason. Academically minded people tend to be socially awkward; social skills are not needed in the realm of knowledge where the academics (both professional and amateur) spend their time. The world of ideas does not require social skills, it requires the ability to think logically and make accurate observations.
4. Knowing the children we teach-individually, culturally, and developmentally-is as important as knowing the content we teach.
Another half-truth. We do need to know our students as individuals, what knowledge they have of the subject, how they react to specific pedagogical methods. But we don't need to know them on the same level as their friends and family. For ours is not that kind of relationship. The teacher-student relationship is one founded in that world of knowledge. If the teacher does not have a truly deep knowledge of the subject at then he is doomed to failure. Without intimate subject knowledge, the teacher is forced to rely on inferior materials and rigid, one-dimensional instruction that does not take the individuality of the students into account.
5. Knowing the families of the children we teach and working with them as partners is essential to children's education.
Um, no. If the teacher knows his students as individuals, then he will have all the knowledge he needs of the family. The family is not doing the learning, the child is. There should be good two-way communication between family and parents in the early grades to provide accountability for the child. But as the child gets older, she as an individual should be held responsible for learning (or not learning) in school.
6. How the adults at school work together is as important as their individual competence: Lasting change begins with the adult community.
Yes, by all means, let's devalue actual knowledge and demean the adults who have it by saying that it really isn't all that important anyway. This is an apology for teachers who cannot think their way out of a paper sack! It gives cover to all those elementary school teachers who do not understand fractions, but have to teach it anyway. (Yes, that is a true scenario. I worked at such a school.) If you have incompetent employees who the hell cares if they work well together? The students that graduate from that school will have learned nothing. And that is a crime.
No, no, no, no, NO!!! Just no! It's not. Why? Because most people have one chance to learn the academics they need to succeed in this world -- that's when they are in school. Everyone is forced, for their entire lives, to learn the "social curriculum." (I'm using quotes because I'm not sure what that phrase really means.)
2. The greatest cognitive growth occurs through social interaction.
Again, sorry, that's not necessarily true! In elementary school music class, scientists have proven that children learn the most when they sing by themselves! Not with a group, not with an adult. By themselves, alone, without social interaction. The learning process is entirely contained within a person's head. Take a casual look around, and you will find the most educated people you know are the most widely read, another solitary, non-social activity.
3. To be successful academically and socially, children need a set of social skills: cooperation, assertion, responsibility, empathy, and self-control.
To be successful socially, yes, these skills are of the utmost importance. To be successful academically, not so much. Those stereotype nerds and academics came from a reason. Academically minded people tend to be socially awkward; social skills are not needed in the realm of knowledge where the academics (both professional and amateur) spend their time. The world of ideas does not require social skills, it requires the ability to think logically and make accurate observations.
4. Knowing the children we teach-individually, culturally, and developmentally-is as important as knowing the content we teach.
Another half-truth. We do need to know our students as individuals, what knowledge they have of the subject, how they react to specific pedagogical methods. But we don't need to know them on the same level as their friends and family. For ours is not that kind of relationship. The teacher-student relationship is one founded in that world of knowledge. If the teacher does not have a truly deep knowledge of the subject at then he is doomed to failure. Without intimate subject knowledge, the teacher is forced to rely on inferior materials and rigid, one-dimensional instruction that does not take the individuality of the students into account.
5. Knowing the families of the children we teach and working with them as partners is essential to children's education.
Um, no. If the teacher knows his students as individuals, then he will have all the knowledge he needs of the family. The family is not doing the learning, the child is. There should be good two-way communication between family and parents in the early grades to provide accountability for the child. But as the child gets older, she as an individual should be held responsible for learning (or not learning) in school.
6. How the adults at school work together is as important as their individual competence: Lasting change begins with the adult community.
Yes, by all means, let's devalue actual knowledge and demean the adults who have it by saying that it really isn't all that important anyway. This is an apology for teachers who cannot think their way out of a paper sack! It gives cover to all those elementary school teachers who do not understand fractions, but have to teach it anyway. (Yes, that is a true scenario. I worked at such a school.) If you have incompetent employees who the hell cares if they work well together? The students that graduate from that school will have learned nothing. And that is a crime.
Friday, October 3, 2014
Yippee-Ki-Ai-Yay!
Ah, spring! The flowers, the searing heat, the wildfires. The job interviews.
Not being all *that* satisfied with working for the music education equivalent WalMart, I will be hitting the interview trail yet again this year. Not that this will lead to anything worthwhile; it never has before. For mine is a rare talent: I am everybody's second choice for their teaching job.
Being the bridesmaid and never the bride means I have serious experience with the dog-and-pony show private school interview. Whether it is far away (like the all-expenses paid 48 hour trip to Florida) or close to home, the routine is same. Spend the day on campus, talk with everyone and his cousin, teach a demonstration lesson, and then go home and wait two weeks for the rejection letter/call/email.
I've done dozens of these interviews over the last 10 years. (Not counting the public school ones; that's another post.) It doesn't take me long to decide whether the school would be worth working for. Usually about 10 minutes is enough.
Take this gem from six months ago. It wasn't a school I was all that excited about to begin with. They are obviously a dysfunctional revolving-door. Every spring they list 6-8 openings, in addition to multiple vacancies during the school year. Any school with that kind of turn over is one to run away from fast -- really fast. I nearly cancelled the interview. But I'm not the kind of person who bails on her commitments, so I rose early in the morning, drove 50 miles and showed up on time...
...to wait in the lobby for 20 minutes. Nothing shows professionalism like making the interviewee sit around twiddling her thumbs. It turns out this was a preview of the rest of the morning. I sat twiddling my thumbs in a religious service (it's a religious school), I sat twiddling my thumbs in a music classroom, I sat twiddling my thumbs in an administrator's office. Oh yeah, these guys were real interested in hiring me.
The music class was a clinic in how not to teach. These kids did nothing but play around with the keyboards and computers for 45 minutes. The "teacher" proudly told me how these "music centers" worked and how he presented this concept at a national music educators conference. (Good, another reason not to join NAfME.) I worked on my acting skills by feigning interest and enthusiasm, while observing the total lack of teaching, learning, and classroom management. These kids were literally doing whatever they wanted, including talk to their friends in the corner.
By the time I got to teach, the only thing on my mind was where to go for lunch. Needless to say my insistence on student participation, focus on quality music making, and lack of toys to play with did not go over well with the over-stimulated, spoiled students.
Thankfully, I never heard from the school again.
Not being all *that* satisfied with working for the music education equivalent WalMart, I will be hitting the interview trail yet again this year. Not that this will lead to anything worthwhile; it never has before. For mine is a rare talent: I am everybody's second choice for their teaching job.
Being the bridesmaid and never the bride means I have serious experience with the dog-and-pony show private school interview. Whether it is far away (like the all-expenses paid 48 hour trip to Florida) or close to home, the routine is same. Spend the day on campus, talk with everyone and his cousin, teach a demonstration lesson, and then go home and wait two weeks for the rejection letter/call/email.
I've done dozens of these interviews over the last 10 years. (Not counting the public school ones; that's another post.) It doesn't take me long to decide whether the school would be worth working for. Usually about 10 minutes is enough.
Take this gem from six months ago. It wasn't a school I was all that excited about to begin with. They are obviously a dysfunctional revolving-door. Every spring they list 6-8 openings, in addition to multiple vacancies during the school year. Any school with that kind of turn over is one to run away from fast -- really fast. I nearly cancelled the interview. But I'm not the kind of person who bails on her commitments, so I rose early in the morning, drove 50 miles and showed up on time...
...to wait in the lobby for 20 minutes. Nothing shows professionalism like making the interviewee sit around twiddling her thumbs. It turns out this was a preview of the rest of the morning. I sat twiddling my thumbs in a religious service (it's a religious school), I sat twiddling my thumbs in a music classroom, I sat twiddling my thumbs in an administrator's office. Oh yeah, these guys were real interested in hiring me.
The music class was a clinic in how not to teach. These kids did nothing but play around with the keyboards and computers for 45 minutes. The "teacher" proudly told me how these "music centers" worked and how he presented this concept at a national music educators conference. (Good, another reason not to join NAfME.) I worked on my acting skills by feigning interest and enthusiasm, while observing the total lack of teaching, learning, and classroom management. These kids were literally doing whatever they wanted, including talk to their friends in the corner.
By the time I got to teach, the only thing on my mind was where to go for lunch. Needless to say my insistence on student participation, focus on quality music making, and lack of toys to play with did not go over well with the over-stimulated, spoiled students.
Thankfully, I never heard from the school again.
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