What can I say that has not already been said about the shooting at the Connecticut elementary school? So many positive touching tributes had already been posted. Two of my favorites has been first a photo of the perpetually smiling Mr. Rogers with a beaming child and his reminder that in every tragedy we need to look for the helpers, because the helpers show our true selves. A second favorite has been a viral tweet from NBC broadcast journalist, Ann Curry, who suggested we ought to volunteer 26 acts of kindness as a memorial to those who were killed. Since Sunday, according to NBC, over 167,000 tributes have been posted to #26ACTS.
That, I thought, was enough. No more words were needed. Such a crime cannot be undone, and all we can do is pledge to try to make the world a better place. Let Newtown mourn in peace.
Then came Friday's bizarre NRA news conference. NRA spokesman, Wayne LaPierre, took the occasion of the one-week anniversary of the shooting, while teachers and students were still being buried in Newtown, CT, to say that the NRA opposes any gun laws: "the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun." How does one do that? asks the inquiring mind. LaPierre said the answer to gun violence in schools is an armed security force that can protect students, made up of trained volunteers stationed at every school across the country.
No, this newscast couldn't be true. Even the NRA has more sense than making a statement like that at a time like this. I double-checked the initial reports, because I thought this had to be a parody penned by The Onion, the irreverent newspaper satire from Madison, WI. But no, to my disbelief, this was an actual event staged by an obviously deranged publicist. To not tear into this idiocy would be to disrespect the memory of the Newtown students and teachers.
Trained, armed volunteers in every school? Why trouble with Mr. Rogers, with acts of kindness, the NRA seems to say, when we have superior weaponry? Well, following NRA logic, why stop with a single armed officer in every school? Why not arm every individual classroom? Why not arm every temple, church and mosque? Why not arm every shopping center and movie theater, and fast food place and neighborhood spa. Perhaps even Santa and his elves should be packing. Prince of Peace: phaaaa!
Twitter contributor, Adrian Eversoll, posting to #NRA, pointed out that the NRA's theory of superior firepower did not protect the sites of three other mass shootings. He wrote, "Columbine had an armed guard. Virginia Tech had a police department. And Fort Hood had the military." How many more guns are needed to protect us? Earth to NRA: escalating the threat of violence in schools and in society is not the answer.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
From Bangladesh to Super Storm Sandy
While listening to Roger Waters, Bruce Springsteen, and Adam Sandler's irreverent "Hallelujah", at the 12-12-12 Concert for Super Storm Sandy Relief tonight, my mind wanders back to August 1971 and the original relief concert, the Concert for Bangladesh. At the time, that small country endured millions dead from unimaginable famine and political terror. The 1971 concert brought together the best performers of the time including Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Billy Preston, Leon Russell, Phil Spector, and Ringo Starr among many, many others.
The driving force behind the concert was another ex-Beatle, George Harrison, and Indian music legend, Ravi Shankar. It seems like a full turn of wheel of fate that at the same time I am listening to Bon Jovi at the Sandy Concert, I am also mourning the death this week of Mr. Shankar, an ambassador who was able to unite a fractious late 60s and early 70s with quivering sounds from an odd looking, long-necked traditional instrument.
Shankar explained why he reached out to Harrison with the idea for the Bangladesh concert. Admittedly, the proceeds from the concert and subsequent film would be only "a drop in the ocean (of relief need)," he said. In fact, the back of the Bangladesh album booklet (yes, we still have the vinyl three-record album, my wife's college barter for meal tickets) shows an imprint of the check from the concert to the UN Children's Fund for Bangladesh: $243,418.50.
"Maybe it (the proceeds) will take care of (eight million refugees) for only two or three days," Shankar wrote in the album booklet, "but that is not the point. The main issue -- beyond the sum of money we can raise -- is that we feel that all the young people who came to the concerts... were made aware of something very few of them felt or knew clearly."
The point of the concert for Bangladesh, and for Super Storm Sandy 41-years later, is not just the money. According to Shankar, the point of the music and performances, "is trying to ignite -- to pass on the responsibility as much as possible to everyone else." It is a celebration of responsibility and of hope joined together only as music can.
I'd write more, but Clapton, the 2012 version, has just joined the Sandy Concert, and the Stones are next. Rock on!
The driving force behind the concert was another ex-Beatle, George Harrison, and Indian music legend, Ravi Shankar. It seems like a full turn of wheel of fate that at the same time I am listening to Bon Jovi at the Sandy Concert, I am also mourning the death this week of Mr. Shankar, an ambassador who was able to unite a fractious late 60s and early 70s with quivering sounds from an odd looking, long-necked traditional instrument.
Shankar explained why he reached out to Harrison with the idea for the Bangladesh concert. Admittedly, the proceeds from the concert and subsequent film would be only "a drop in the ocean (of relief need)," he said. In fact, the back of the Bangladesh album booklet (yes, we still have the vinyl three-record album, my wife's college barter for meal tickets) shows an imprint of the check from the concert to the UN Children's Fund for Bangladesh: $243,418.50.
"Maybe it (the proceeds) will take care of (eight million refugees) for only two or three days," Shankar wrote in the album booklet, "but that is not the point. The main issue -- beyond the sum of money we can raise -- is that we feel that all the young people who came to the concerts... were made aware of something very few of them felt or knew clearly."
The point of the concert for Bangladesh, and for Super Storm Sandy 41-years later, is not just the money. According to Shankar, the point of the music and performances, "is trying to ignite -- to pass on the responsibility as much as possible to everyone else." It is a celebration of responsibility and of hope joined together only as music can.
I'd write more, but Clapton, the 2012 version, has just joined the Sandy Concert, and the Stones are next. Rock on!
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Tribe of Educators on Twitter
Scanning the latest education tweets today, I discovered "Homework may not equal learning: one to two hours a night may be excessive," "Intricate lessons may not connect to the larger lesson/competencies," "The Power of Collaborative Learning," and "Pinterest has hundreds of resources for educators." And, that is from just 50 minutes of posts.
Rather than lengthy conferences at exotic locales or subscribing to pages and pages of pedagogic papers, teachers turn to Twitter and other social media sites for a constant stream of inspiration and detailed, tested best practices. I can learn more in an hour of reading tweets from "Eye on Education", than from most in-service sessions. Some may argue that face-to-face personal contact is more effective than impersonal digital messages. Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the your comfort with this new training medium. Guru Educator Dave Guymon pointed out advantages in a Dec. 7 blog about education and Twitter:
"With proportionately decreasing budget and increasing demands on classrooms, teachers having access to a tribe of educators on Twitter provides me tools, strategies, and a support system that I can rely on to continually help me to become a better instructional leader and classroom manager... Interest-based groups of educators connect to discuss theoretical questions, classroom practices, and educational reform in a supportive, collaborative online environment."
I can foresee that instead of jetting colleagues off to the latest and greatest, that the best education ideas are brought to the instructor's classroom through webinars, discussion nodes, digital social resources, and Twitter news summaries. This brave new world is efficient, effective, and avoids long lines at the airport security stations. It introduces us to new ideas and keeps us in the classroom in front of our students, which is where we want to be.
Rather than lengthy conferences at exotic locales or subscribing to pages and pages of pedagogic papers, teachers turn to Twitter and other social media sites for a constant stream of inspiration and detailed, tested best practices. I can learn more in an hour of reading tweets from "Eye on Education", than from most in-service sessions. Some may argue that face-to-face personal contact is more effective than impersonal digital messages. Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the your comfort with this new training medium. Guru Educator Dave Guymon pointed out advantages in a Dec. 7 blog about education and Twitter:
"With proportionately decreasing budget and increasing demands on classrooms, teachers having access to a tribe of educators on Twitter provides me tools, strategies, and a support system that I can rely on to continually help me to become a better instructional leader and classroom manager... Interest-based groups of educators connect to discuss theoretical questions, classroom practices, and educational reform in a supportive, collaborative online environment."
I can foresee that instead of jetting colleagues off to the latest and greatest, that the best education ideas are brought to the instructor's classroom through webinars, discussion nodes, digital social resources, and Twitter news summaries. This brave new world is efficient, effective, and avoids long lines at the airport security stations. It introduces us to new ideas and keeps us in the classroom in front of our students, which is where we want to be.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Only Enough for Three out of 25
During the last two weeks, I read applications for scholarships to NWTC in a methodical, well-rehearsed, and inspiring process. It was my first go as a reader. I think I would enjoy doing this again.
Each semester, dozens of groups of six readers are assigned 25 student applications from the almost 500 applications that the Foundation Office receives. Readers are asked to rank the applications in five descending categories: Outstanding, Above Average, Average, Below Average, and Why Did You Apply? Out of that group of 25, we are only allowed to award three Outstanding rankings. Those are the leading candidates to divide up $50,000 in scholarship money for the spring semester. The three of 25 become maybe 100 scholarship winners.
The NWTC Foundation recommends a weighted criteria: GPA (high school and college), Personal Essay, Financial Essay and Financial Need, and Letters of Recommendation. The GPA comparison was straightforward, assuming students had some college under their belt. The Financial Essay and Financial Need sections were less easy to consider since all my applicants could really use the extra money. Out of the 25 applications, 10 were an easy first cut for me. They received Average rankings.
The rest I ranked Above Average, and from that group, I planned to pick the Outstanding three. Since I have a writing background, I was especially interested in the personal essays. Unfortunately, some of the essays were more like personal paragraphs texted from a smartphone than well-constructed writing. Ignoring spelling, sentence fragments, misplaced commas and other rude violations of American Standard English, I concentrated on the stories the students had to tell. Those students who provided details and told a compelling story, rather than just fantasize about using their education to solve some fuzzy problem of the world, ranked higher on my list. I then looked to the letters of recommendation to support or add to the personal story of the students.
Out of the 15 applications that I seriously considered, I wanted to give half the Outstanding ranking. The seven were pared down to five, reapplying the GPA criteria, and then down to four. My last cut was very difficult. I hope I made the right choice.
In my opinion, my three Outstanding students demonstrated need, academic ability, and a drive to succeed in what they want to do. In a perfect world, there would be enough scholarship money for anyone who really wants to work for a college degree, but in our world, and on my list, there is only enough for 3 out of 25. That will have to be enough for now.
Each semester, dozens of groups of six readers are assigned 25 student applications from the almost 500 applications that the Foundation Office receives. Readers are asked to rank the applications in five descending categories: Outstanding, Above Average, Average, Below Average, and Why Did You Apply? Out of that group of 25, we are only allowed to award three Outstanding rankings. Those are the leading candidates to divide up $50,000 in scholarship money for the spring semester. The three of 25 become maybe 100 scholarship winners.
The NWTC Foundation recommends a weighted criteria: GPA (high school and college), Personal Essay, Financial Essay and Financial Need, and Letters of Recommendation. The GPA comparison was straightforward, assuming students had some college under their belt. The Financial Essay and Financial Need sections were less easy to consider since all my applicants could really use the extra money. Out of the 25 applications, 10 were an easy first cut for me. They received Average rankings.
The rest I ranked Above Average, and from that group, I planned to pick the Outstanding three. Since I have a writing background, I was especially interested in the personal essays. Unfortunately, some of the essays were more like personal paragraphs texted from a smartphone than well-constructed writing. Ignoring spelling, sentence fragments, misplaced commas and other rude violations of American Standard English, I concentrated on the stories the students had to tell. Those students who provided details and told a compelling story, rather than just fantasize about using their education to solve some fuzzy problem of the world, ranked higher on my list. I then looked to the letters of recommendation to support or add to the personal story of the students.
Out of the 15 applications that I seriously considered, I wanted to give half the Outstanding ranking. The seven were pared down to five, reapplying the GPA criteria, and then down to four. My last cut was very difficult. I hope I made the right choice.
In my opinion, my three Outstanding students demonstrated need, academic ability, and a drive to succeed in what they want to do. In a perfect world, there would be enough scholarship money for anyone who really wants to work for a college degree, but in our world, and on my list, there is only enough for 3 out of 25. That will have to be enough for now.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Randy Pausch and the Plan B
"Well, let's try Plan B."
My students hear this phrase from me a number of times each semester for a variety of reasons: a computer doesn't boot up, books that I thought were in the cabinet are missing at classtime, an assignment or exercise turns out to be a lemon, or other plans that were made in good faith go off the line. Life doesn't go the way we plan. What a surprise. Rather than fret about what should have been in a kinder perfect universe, I shrug and try something else.
Over the years, I have learned that there are many paths to an objective. Just because one path circles back upon itself, is blocked by bureaucracy, or fades into tall grass where I can't see ahead doesn't mean that the objective itself needs to be abandoned. There is rarely a wall in life that cannot be overcome or bypassed. The late great Randy Pausch, who delivered a famous "Last Lecture: Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" before his death in 2008, said walls are put in our path to see how bad we want to reach our dreams. He didn't let cancer stop him. Why should our much smaller walls stop us?
I teach students that there are always, always alternative ways to reach their goals. There is rarely a benchmark, a problem, an exercise, an examination, a course, a program so impassable that it can't be scaled with work, persistence, and the help of others. When a student turns away discouraged, it is more from a lack of confidence than from the obstacle itself.
Don't believe me? Take an hour and a quarter to watch Pausch's Last Lecture at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo. I would be very surprised if, after hearing Pausch, you did not agree that there is always a Plan B.
My students hear this phrase from me a number of times each semester for a variety of reasons: a computer doesn't boot up, books that I thought were in the cabinet are missing at classtime, an assignment or exercise turns out to be a lemon, or other plans that were made in good faith go off the line. Life doesn't go the way we plan. What a surprise. Rather than fret about what should have been in a kinder perfect universe, I shrug and try something else.
Over the years, I have learned that there are many paths to an objective. Just because one path circles back upon itself, is blocked by bureaucracy, or fades into tall grass where I can't see ahead doesn't mean that the objective itself needs to be abandoned. There is rarely a wall in life that cannot be overcome or bypassed. The late great Randy Pausch, who delivered a famous "Last Lecture: Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" before his death in 2008, said walls are put in our path to see how bad we want to reach our dreams. He didn't let cancer stop him. Why should our much smaller walls stop us?
I teach students that there are always, always alternative ways to reach their goals. There is rarely a benchmark, a problem, an exercise, an examination, a course, a program so impassable that it can't be scaled with work, persistence, and the help of others. When a student turns away discouraged, it is more from a lack of confidence than from the obstacle itself.
Don't believe me? Take an hour and a quarter to watch Pausch's Last Lecture at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo. I would be very surprised if, after hearing Pausch, you did not agree that there is always a Plan B.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
"Is this for us too?"
Rather than start last Thursday’s class with my typical overview of the writing lesson, I asked students to follow me out of the classroom. We walked down the hall, around the corner, where a turkey lunch was set up for them outside the canteen: shredded turkey on white rolls, dressing with brown gravy, chopped vegetable salad, and a choice of deserts: cupcakes or squares of a thanksgiving carrot cake, in addition to the student drink staple, Sierra Mist.
While I am often narrowly focused on student lesson plans and activities for the day, I know school is only a small part of a student’s life. College students often struggle financially, emotionally as well as academically. Instructors know students thrive in a classroom that encourages socialization, enhances self-confidence, and promotes self-respect. Respect is, I think, key to the advance of learning. A student needs to respect himself or herself, as well as the school, instructor, and course work.
If a student does not respect himself or herself, however, how do they learn it? Thursday’s meal was an model of how the Shawano Regional Learning Center shows that it respects all its students, even those in basic education.
My students work hard during the College Writing Prep and the open lab and often skip or skrimp on lunch in order to attend my noon-2 p.m. class and then continue the open lab afterwards. A hot turkey meal, the week before Thanksgiving, a traditional time for us to gather, did three things: it provided fuel for an afternoon of work, it allowed them to breakdown classmate to classmate barriers and eat sociably together, and it demonstrated, in a simple but concrete way, that they are respected members of the Shawano Center.
Basic education students sometimes have a crisis of confidence; they can’t believe that they are actually college students. As my students joined more than 70 other students from nursing, medical records, non-credit, and general studies courses in Thursday’s free hot meal, they asked, “Is this food for us too?” Of course it was. This gesture showed them that we respect their work. This gives them permission to respect themselves in turn. The meal showed they are as important as any other student within the college.
Kudos to the center for showing respect by action, not just words.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
A Little Like Christmas Eve
Two days before open enrollment, it seems a little like Christmas Eve in the Basic Education Lab: the anticipation, the wonder, the magic of a gift too perfect to open. Students are freely chatting with each other, ignoring the algebraic order of operations (Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally) for the moment, talking about their expectations and plans, and what courses they are planning to sign up for in the spring college term.
I’ll admit that doesn’t sound like a marketable sequel to “The Christmas Story,” but it is inspiring. When the students started in August, they were blocked from enrolling in college classes because their entry scores were below college minimum standards. About one in ten college candidates fall short of the grade levels needed for success in the college classroom. They are disappointed, of course, and sometimes doubt their own ability, but they can’t let that doubt get the best of them.
So, the students get to work. They attend the open Basic Education lab when they can, sign up for College Prep courses in Reading/Writing and Mathematics, and work against odds to raise up their scores so that when they do sit in a college class, they have the best possible chance of success. Unprepared, their failure doesn’t help them or help us as an institution.
During the past week, a group of my students have now retested, and they have exceeded, equaled or come within a few worksheets of hitting the college standards that beyond their best efforts just a few months ago. Most have achieved minimum college standards. Some have even reached the much higher program standards. Now, rather than facing remedial exercise, they are ready to take their place in a college classroom.
Within the superficial wrapping of college benchmarks and standardized scores, the students will uncover a greater gift: the dream of a college education. And, because of the work that they have put in this semester, they have started to develop the discipline and self-confidence to see this dream through to the end.
The anticipation of Christmas Eve is fun, but Christmas morning is even better.
I’ll admit that doesn’t sound like a marketable sequel to “The Christmas Story,” but it is inspiring. When the students started in August, they were blocked from enrolling in college classes because their entry scores were below college minimum standards. About one in ten college candidates fall short of the grade levels needed for success in the college classroom. They are disappointed, of course, and sometimes doubt their own ability, but they can’t let that doubt get the best of them.
So, the students get to work. They attend the open Basic Education lab when they can, sign up for College Prep courses in Reading/Writing and Mathematics, and work against odds to raise up their scores so that when they do sit in a college class, they have the best possible chance of success. Unprepared, their failure doesn’t help them or help us as an institution.
During the past week, a group of my students have now retested, and they have exceeded, equaled or come within a few worksheets of hitting the college standards that beyond their best efforts just a few months ago. Most have achieved minimum college standards. Some have even reached the much higher program standards. Now, rather than facing remedial exercise, they are ready to take their place in a college classroom.
Within the superficial wrapping of college benchmarks and standardized scores, the students will uncover a greater gift: the dream of a college education. And, because of the work that they have put in this semester, they have started to develop the discipline and self-confidence to see this dream through to the end.
The anticipation of Christmas Eve is fun, but Christmas morning is even better.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Mistakes can be Profited By
I just finished the classic SF story, Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. I remember reading the story the first time in college as a warning against censorship. Books and the written words are poison in protagonist Montag's world and firemen, like Montag, set fires to books, rather than put them out. It's a reversed view of the world that is prevalent in much of Bradbury's work: take a common idea and twist it 180-degrees to reveal another logical reality.
While the criticism of censorship is still the initial rage for the book, during this reading (it's probably my third or fourth time), the wisdom or folly of our choices seems a more clear underlying theme. Who of us would not like to have an unwise choice brought back? Who of us would not prefer to be braver, stronger, more confident, than we have been in the past? Who of us have not played life safe because we were worried about consequences of bad choices, of mistakes?
But, what if we do make a mistake? Montag's compatriot and conscience, Faber, chided Montag's preference to blend back into the collective rather than risk individuality: "I know, I know. You're afraid of making mistakes. Don't be. Mistakes can be profited by."
The Montag's choices unveil a hidden beautiful world to him. The consequences of the choices are hard and brutal, this is not a sugar plum fairy-tale, but, Bradbury seems to say, are well worth the pain. After Montag uses a river to escape, he dramatically rises from the water:
"He (Montag) stood breathing, and the more he breathed the land in, the more he was filled up with all the details of the land. He was not empty. There was more than enough here to fill him. There would always be more than enough."
In the broad strokes of typical Bradbury symbolism, Montag is reborn into a new world and a new purpose. His mistakes opened him up to a world full of hope, even though he knows the world can still be a hurtful, cynical place, and he knows he can still make mistakes. But isn't that a wonderful choice to have?
"He (Montag) stood breathing, and the more he breathed the land in, the more he was filled up with all the details of the land. He was not empty. There was more than enough here to fill him. There would always be more than enough."
In the broad strokes of typical Bradbury symbolism, Montag is reborn into a new world and a new purpose. His mistakes opened him up to a world full of hope, even though he knows the world can still be a hurtful, cynical place, and he knows he can still make mistakes. But isn't that a wonderful choice to have?
Friday, September 21, 2012
Habits of Highly Unsuccessful Students
An article from Inc.com caught my eye this morning: "Three Habits of Highly Unsuccessful Businesses." The article, written by Karl Stark and Bill Stewart, managing directors of the strategic advisory firm, Avondale (Chicago, IL), suggested that rather than look at the Successful Habits of businesses, it might also be useful to look at the unsuccessful, so as to tack away from harm. The deadly three are, according to Start and Stewart:
1. Unsuccessful businesses believe that their circumstances are unchangeable and therefore don't act.
2. Unsuccessful businesses do not set milestones for their journey.
3. Unsuccessful businesses do no re-evaluate along the way.
I agree with these observations. I have had quite a bit of business experience, and recognize that these three mind games trap well-meaning managers and owners. As I thought more about the unsuccessful three, I recognized that they are also the habits of unsuccessful students. Let me explain.
1. Unsuccessful students believe their circumstances are unchangeable and therefore don't act. Too often, students have come to believe the negative things that others say about them. You are too young (or old), you can't study, you can't write, you can't read, you can't concentrate, and, finally, you are not college-material. Students hear these voices so often that they believe them and remain stuck in one place. Henry Ford once said, "Whether you believe you can, or whether you believe you can't, you're right." Successful teachers work to persuade student that their circumstances can change, but only if they believe in themselves. Students need to act in order to have change.
2. Unsuccessful students do not set milestones. We try to celebrate every victory in the Basic Skills lab: a good score on a math pre-test, breaking 500 on the GED Social Studies predictor, grasping the idea of factoring fractions. These are mini-steps taken every day. Each student also needs to have a larger goal in mind in order to drive them through the days when they don't want to be studying. A student who does not have an end in mind, soon drifts away from the lab and from the promise that he or she might have in their future. As someone once said, "If you don't have a goal, how will you know when you get there."
3. Unsuccessful students do not re-evaluate. When I went to college, I changed my mind on majors at least a half-dozen times in the first couple years. After taking a class, I would decide economics is not for me, philosophy is not for me, biology is not for me. Since I seemed to be more of a generalist than a specialist, journalism seemed the best option and the choice has done well for me. When my students begin their study, they have one goal in mind. Too, too often when that goal becomes unlikely, they give up rather than reassess what they have learned about themselves. Goals change in life.
Usually, like colleagues, I promote the good habits of successful students, but, as the Inc.com article suggests, it is useful to examine what might not be working, as well as what is. Keeping the habits of unsuccessful students in mind, keeps a critical eye on the curriculum and direction that students are taking. It makes teachers more aware of course corrections that we can suggest along the way.
1. Unsuccessful businesses believe that their circumstances are unchangeable and therefore don't act.
2. Unsuccessful businesses do not set milestones for their journey.
3. Unsuccessful businesses do no re-evaluate along the way.
I agree with these observations. I have had quite a bit of business experience, and recognize that these three mind games trap well-meaning managers and owners. As I thought more about the unsuccessful three, I recognized that they are also the habits of unsuccessful students. Let me explain.
1. Unsuccessful students believe their circumstances are unchangeable and therefore don't act. Too often, students have come to believe the negative things that others say about them. You are too young (or old), you can't study, you can't write, you can't read, you can't concentrate, and, finally, you are not college-material. Students hear these voices so often that they believe them and remain stuck in one place. Henry Ford once said, "Whether you believe you can, or whether you believe you can't, you're right." Successful teachers work to persuade student that their circumstances can change, but only if they believe in themselves. Students need to act in order to have change.
2. Unsuccessful students do not set milestones. We try to celebrate every victory in the Basic Skills lab: a good score on a math pre-test, breaking 500 on the GED Social Studies predictor, grasping the idea of factoring fractions. These are mini-steps taken every day. Each student also needs to have a larger goal in mind in order to drive them through the days when they don't want to be studying. A student who does not have an end in mind, soon drifts away from the lab and from the promise that he or she might have in their future. As someone once said, "If you don't have a goal, how will you know when you get there."
3. Unsuccessful students do not re-evaluate. When I went to college, I changed my mind on majors at least a half-dozen times in the first couple years. After taking a class, I would decide economics is not for me, philosophy is not for me, biology is not for me. Since I seemed to be more of a generalist than a specialist, journalism seemed the best option and the choice has done well for me. When my students begin their study, they have one goal in mind. Too, too often when that goal becomes unlikely, they give up rather than reassess what they have learned about themselves. Goals change in life.
Usually, like colleagues, I promote the good habits of successful students, but, as the Inc.com article suggests, it is useful to examine what might not be working, as well as what is. Keeping the habits of unsuccessful students in mind, keeps a critical eye on the curriculum and direction that students are taking. It makes teachers more aware of course corrections that we can suggest along the way.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
This Young Trio Believes in You
We walked through the art/craft tents on Green Bay's Broadway this morning after coffee at Kavarna, one of our favorite places. We saw button jewelry, pencil sketches of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean, funnel cakes, coffee can lawn art, and other hometown miscellanea in tents scattered on either side of the street. We crossed from the Kavarna side of the street to the east side and stopped at a booth with inspirational messages ("I Believe Me") printed across T-shirts. The designs were original art and very nicely done.
A young lady manning the booth walked right up to us and explained that the shirts were made to spread the message that kids had to believe in themselves She finished her 60-second elevator speech, dropped a card in our shopping bag, and wished us a good day. That was an impressive young lady.
Later on I read the card and brought up the website (www.ibelieveme.org). The young lady was the oldest of three siblings who founded this company to counteract the negative message that kids receive everyday: "Have you ever been told you're not good enough, that you'll never be good enough? Have you been cut from a team, not gotten the part, or been made to feel inferior?"
Rather than give in to the critics, the principals of this kitchen-table company, made up of Callie (our young lady), her brother Leo, and her younger sister Molly, want kids to believe in individual gifts, personal worth, and inspirational dreams. For every T-shirt you, buy the trio with give another T-shirt to a child who would also benefit from promoting the "I Believe Me" message.
Working from a screen printing press in the basement of their grandmother's Allouez, WI, house, the trio know that they can't change the entire world, but are working to do what they can to spread a message of positivity in a very negative world one T-shirt at a time. They write, "We are hear to help, to let you know that you ARE good enough, and that you CAN do whatever you put your mind to."
Impressive indeed.
A young lady manning the booth walked right up to us and explained that the shirts were made to spread the message that kids had to believe in themselves She finished her 60-second elevator speech, dropped a card in our shopping bag, and wished us a good day. That was an impressive young lady.
Later on I read the card and brought up the website (www.ibelieveme.org). The young lady was the oldest of three siblings who founded this company to counteract the negative message that kids receive everyday: "Have you ever been told you're not good enough, that you'll never be good enough? Have you been cut from a team, not gotten the part, or been made to feel inferior?"
Rather than give in to the critics, the principals of this kitchen-table company, made up of Callie (our young lady), her brother Leo, and her younger sister Molly, want kids to believe in individual gifts, personal worth, and inspirational dreams. For every T-shirt you, buy the trio with give another T-shirt to a child who would also benefit from promoting the "I Believe Me" message.
Working from a screen printing press in the basement of their grandmother's Allouez, WI, house, the trio know that they can't change the entire world, but are working to do what they can to spread a message of positivity in a very negative world one T-shirt at a time. They write, "We are hear to help, to let you know that you ARE good enough, and that you CAN do whatever you put your mind to."
Impressive indeed.
Friday, September 7, 2012
In Praise of Teaching by Walking Around
The theory of Management by Walking Around (MBWA) is being compared to the notion Teaching by Walking Around (TBWA) in today's teaching blog "Tomorrow's Professor" by Rick Reis of Stanford University. The comparison and study by Shantha P. Yahanpath and Shan Yahanpath of the Sydney (Australia) Business School looked favorably on the idea of moving around a classroom rather than gluing both hands to the lectern in the front of the classroom. Well, yeah.
As a former manager who successfully and purposefully used the MBWA theory when it was first in vogue I won't say how many years ago, I understand that moving among the people you work with inevitably creates relationships that smooth the work process. And, as a manager, how can you tell when something is not working when you are holed up in your office?
Agreed, in some classes where the student numbers are well north of 24-30, the lecture may be a tried and true way of conducting a class, but I doubt that it is the most effective. Every teaching study that I have read shows that lecturing is the least effective way of teaching. That begs the obvious question, "Why do we continue to do it?" Probably because it takes less preparation time in a busy teaching schedule. In a pinch, you open the text book and read the chapter of the day. Don't laugh, I once had an instructor do that on a particularly bad day. BTW, I count reading off a text-filled PowerPoint slide as little improvement over reading from the text. The PowerPoint should be a visual, interactive teaching aide, not a teleprompter for the instructor.
My most effective classes are those when I am working directly with the students. In small classes, this many be one-on-one or one-on-two. In larger classes, the students are broken down into larger smaller groups and directed to complete projects. This method takes advantage of the most effective way of teaching, allowing students to teach each other. When I see a student tell a student, "No try it this way," I smile, because I know that a teaching moment is developing. A student will easily accept learning from classmates.
And, just as in management, how can you tell when something is not being learned, when you are attached to the lectern at the front of a traditional classroom? Teaching, as well as managing, is an interactive activity.
As a former manager who successfully and purposefully used the MBWA theory when it was first in vogue I won't say how many years ago, I understand that moving among the people you work with inevitably creates relationships that smooth the work process. And, as a manager, how can you tell when something is not working when you are holed up in your office?
Not surprisingly, the Sydney researchers found that when the instructors moved around the classroom working with individual groups of students who were working on directed projects, the learning effectiveness and morale of the students improved.
Agreed, in some classes where the student numbers are well north of 24-30, the lecture may be a tried and true way of conducting a class, but I doubt that it is the most effective. Every teaching study that I have read shows that lecturing is the least effective way of teaching. That begs the obvious question, "Why do we continue to do it?" Probably because it takes less preparation time in a busy teaching schedule. In a pinch, you open the text book and read the chapter of the day. Don't laugh, I once had an instructor do that on a particularly bad day. BTW, I count reading off a text-filled PowerPoint slide as little improvement over reading from the text. The PowerPoint should be a visual, interactive teaching aide, not a teleprompter for the instructor.
My most effective classes are those when I am working directly with the students. In small classes, this many be one-on-one or one-on-two. In larger classes, the students are broken down into larger smaller groups and directed to complete projects. This method takes advantage of the most effective way of teaching, allowing students to teach each other. When I see a student tell a student, "No try it this way," I smile, because I know that a teaching moment is developing. A student will easily accept learning from classmates.
And, just as in management, how can you tell when something is not being learned, when you are attached to the lectern at the front of a traditional classroom? Teaching, as well as managing, is an interactive activity.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
My Son is NOT Going to a Technical College
The first time I worked for NWTC, I worked in the marketing department as a minor administrative functionary. A manager I worked with worried about his son who was just graduating from high school. The boy was bright, graduated with good grades, but didn't seem to have focus. He was planning to enter a UW-system campus in the fall, but the dad worried that a campus far from home would be more destructive than instructive.
Ever helpful, I suggested the son try some classes at NWTC first, to get his college legs under him. The dad was shocked by the suggestion, "My son is NOT going to a technical college." You would have thought that I suggested that the dad bankroll him for a career as a professional poker player in Las Vegas. The tech college was suitable for kids from other families, not his.
Times have changed.
It's been almost 20-years since that exchange. I left the college for a time, and now have returned as a member of the faculty. I have seen the stigma of a technical college degree wear away to such a point where now it is sought after by students. Our general education courses are accepted by the UW-system and our graduates in nursing, manufacturing technology, digital wonders, leadership, and the trades are recruited and highly paid by local businesses. The technical college degree is no longer the poor stepchild of the state post-secondary system, but an equal partner with our four-year brethren.
What happened to the son? I believe the boy bounced around, as the father feared, but eventually got a degree in something or other. I would not be surprised if he has found himself back at NWTC at one time or another to get an advanced training to supplement and enhance the baccalaureate degree. It happens all the time.
Ever helpful, I suggested the son try some classes at NWTC first, to get his college legs under him. The dad was shocked by the suggestion, "My son is NOT going to a technical college." You would have thought that I suggested that the dad bankroll him for a career as a professional poker player in Las Vegas. The tech college was suitable for kids from other families, not his.
Times have changed.
It's been almost 20-years since that exchange. I left the college for a time, and now have returned as a member of the faculty. I have seen the stigma of a technical college degree wear away to such a point where now it is sought after by students. Our general education courses are accepted by the UW-system and our graduates in nursing, manufacturing technology, digital wonders, leadership, and the trades are recruited and highly paid by local businesses. The technical college degree is no longer the poor stepchild of the state post-secondary system, but an equal partner with our four-year brethren.
What happened to the son? I believe the boy bounced around, as the father feared, but eventually got a degree in something or other. I would not be surprised if he has found himself back at NWTC at one time or another to get an advanced training to supplement and enhance the baccalaureate degree. It happens all the time.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Teaching: Make a Difference Lives
The Skills Lab was relatively quiet today a few days before the Labor Day weekend, so I had the chance to review student folders and my attendance book from the past year. As I looked at the names of students who signed up with me a year ago, when I first began work at the Shawano and Oconto Falls Regional Learning Centers, I was struck by the fact that many of the students I worked with have moved out of the lab. They have either received their GED certificate or achieved academic skills benchmarks that have led to a college program. Unlike other teachers, I am successful when I no longer see my students.
I have worked in a lot of careers and thought that I made a difference in each one.
When I worked for a weekly Catholic newspaper, my words and photos were seen by about 25,000 readers. I thought that was important. When I worked in a college marketing department, my promotions were placed in the hands of thousands of recruits, students, faculty and staff members. I thought that was important. When I worked in hospitality, I routinely hosted over 1500 guests each year. I thought that was important. When I worked in landscape design, I created and installed hundreds of creative functional landscapes. I thought these were all important.
But none of these were as important as teaching.
When you are a teacher, you not only work with students, but with their families, their friends, their coworkers and the community. The dreams that you see come to life, change lives in ways more honestly and more completely than any other career I have had the privilege to work in. I have a front row seat as students realize, often to their surprise, that they are able to succeed in a college classroom. Empowerment is a cliche, but describes the central impact of the Basic Skills Lab.
Community advocates promote Make a Difference Days. Teachers live Make a Difference Lives.
I have worked in a lot of careers and thought that I made a difference in each one.
When I worked for a weekly Catholic newspaper, my words and photos were seen by about 25,000 readers. I thought that was important. When I worked in a college marketing department, my promotions were placed in the hands of thousands of recruits, students, faculty and staff members. I thought that was important. When I worked in hospitality, I routinely hosted over 1500 guests each year. I thought that was important. When I worked in landscape design, I created and installed hundreds of creative functional landscapes. I thought these were all important.
But none of these were as important as teaching.
When you are a teacher, you not only work with students, but with their families, their friends, their coworkers and the community. The dreams that you see come to life, change lives in ways more honestly and more completely than any other career I have had the privilege to work in. I have a front row seat as students realize, often to their surprise, that they are able to succeed in a college classroom. Empowerment is a cliche, but describes the central impact of the Basic Skills Lab.
Community advocates promote Make a Difference Days. Teachers live Make a Difference Lives.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Welcome to College and Life
Today was one of a series of "Welcome Days" scheduled at the school. New students find a parking spot nearest the door, receive a printout of their schedule, get the latest information about financial aid and student services, and are given quick tour of the maze we call the college.
I volunteered to be one of two Welcomers in the General Studies section of the school. Students came up the hallway alone, in groups, with a tour guide dressed in a nifty blue NWTC shirt, or with their mom and rest of the family. My job was to welcome them (thus the name), locate the General Studies courses on their schedule, and show them the classrooms they will populate beginning next Thursday, Aug. 16, the first day of our fall term.
Most of our General Studies classrooms are straightforward: largely square in shape, functional beige, tables and chairs facing a SmartClassroom consul in the front of the room framed by whiteboards on either side. When the subject is writing, math, psychology, sociology, or ethics and diversity, we don't need a lot of extra equipment. Some of the classrooms are computer labs primed with software ready for the writing, math, and other courses. Our science classrooms are more impressive because they have more toys. Chemistry, physics, and microbiology labs look like a well-endowed high school science lab without the hand-painted homecoming posters hanging from poster tape.
The students say they are coming to see a classroom, but I doubt that is real reason. Most of them have seen plenty of classrooms and ours, while bright and shiny, are really no different than tens of others. The real reason they come is to quell their doubts about enrolling in a college in general and at NWTC in particular. One week before school starts, they are understandably nervous by this bold step. So my job today was not only to show them classrooms, but to assure them they made the right choice by in investing in their future. My job was to welcome them to the rest of their life.
I volunteered to be one of two Welcomers in the General Studies section of the school. Students came up the hallway alone, in groups, with a tour guide dressed in a nifty blue NWTC shirt, or with their mom and rest of the family. My job was to welcome them (thus the name), locate the General Studies courses on their schedule, and show them the classrooms they will populate beginning next Thursday, Aug. 16, the first day of our fall term.
Most of our General Studies classrooms are straightforward: largely square in shape, functional beige, tables and chairs facing a SmartClassroom consul in the front of the room framed by whiteboards on either side. When the subject is writing, math, psychology, sociology, or ethics and diversity, we don't need a lot of extra equipment. Some of the classrooms are computer labs primed with software ready for the writing, math, and other courses. Our science classrooms are more impressive because they have more toys. Chemistry, physics, and microbiology labs look like a well-endowed high school science lab without the hand-painted homecoming posters hanging from poster tape.
The students say they are coming to see a classroom, but I doubt that is real reason. Most of them have seen plenty of classrooms and ours, while bright and shiny, are really no different than tens of others. The real reason they come is to quell their doubts about enrolling in a college in general and at NWTC in particular. One week before school starts, they are understandably nervous by this bold step. So my job today was not only to show them classrooms, but to assure them they made the right choice by in investing in their future. My job was to welcome them to the rest of their life.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Moving quickly from A to A
I didn't realize that my last blog was at the end of April of the last school year. What could I have been doing in May? Grading, prepping, correcting tests, crawling out from under my desk?
But now it's the other "A" month, August, and scheduled preparation for the 2012-13 school year begins. Actually unscheduled preparation has been ongoing since the 2011-2012 school year officially ended at the college on June 30. Summer is time for preparation, clearing and cleaning out files, writing new curriculum, and getting reacquainted with significant family members. I did work at the Shawano Regional Learning Center of the college during the summer and was introduced to WIDS (Worldwide Instructional Design System) when I wrote two Basic Education supplemental courses for our Organic Agriculture program. I also had a chance to schedule vacation time and home improvement projects.
But now it's back to work, doing what I love to do. Today has been the midday of a three-day IPA (Instructor Preparation Academy) course on Course Construction -- WIDS upon WIDS. My project has been converting a successful pilot program into competencies, objectives and assessments, so that it can be taught by other instructors. That's not as easy as it might sound. What content seems obvious to one teacher and teaching style, can be difficult to reconstruct for others. Teaching is as much a performing art as a quantifiably planned presentation.
After the IPA sessions, the school has scheduled Welcome Sessions for students at the end of this week. Monday I reconnect with the good people in Oconto Falls. The All-School In-Service is Tuesday, departmental in-services on Wednesday, and classes begin on Thursday, Aug. 16. Bang, we are back in business once again. Life moves quickly from April to August, but that is the way I like it.
But now it's the other "A" month, August, and scheduled preparation for the 2012-13 school year begins. Actually unscheduled preparation has been ongoing since the 2011-2012 school year officially ended at the college on June 30. Summer is time for preparation, clearing and cleaning out files, writing new curriculum, and getting reacquainted with significant family members. I did work at the Shawano Regional Learning Center of the college during the summer and was introduced to WIDS (Worldwide Instructional Design System) when I wrote two Basic Education supplemental courses for our Organic Agriculture program. I also had a chance to schedule vacation time and home improvement projects.
But now it's back to work, doing what I love to do. Today has been the midday of a three-day IPA (Instructor Preparation Academy) course on Course Construction -- WIDS upon WIDS. My project has been converting a successful pilot program into competencies, objectives and assessments, so that it can be taught by other instructors. That's not as easy as it might sound. What content seems obvious to one teacher and teaching style, can be difficult to reconstruct for others. Teaching is as much a performing art as a quantifiably planned presentation.
After the IPA sessions, the school has scheduled Welcome Sessions for students at the end of this week. Monday I reconnect with the good people in Oconto Falls. The All-School In-Service is Tuesday, departmental in-services on Wednesday, and classes begin on Thursday, Aug. 16. Bang, we are back in business once again. Life moves quickly from April to August, but that is the way I like it.
Friday, April 20, 2012
How much do students learn?
"How much do students learn? How do you know?" are the final two sentences of today's NY Times column by David Brooks. Brooks gashes many academic sacred cows in this column: the idea that college makes you a better person and never mind the content, that college advances you from the hormonal confusion of high school to the ethereal thoughts of ivy towers, that students actually learn something in exchange for a decade of student loan payments.
The challenge, he writes, "is not getting educators to embrace the idea of assessment. It's mobilizing them to actually enact it in a way that's real and transparent to outsiders."
I suppose that as an instructor at a technical college I sit smug in my office knowing that in our case, students do learn because our learning product is easy to see and measure: you either learn how to run a CNC machine or you do not; you either learn how to find a vein and drawn blood or you do not; you either learn how to clean the back molars or you do not, you either learn how to produce a profit and loss statement or you do not. Our assessments are rather cut and dry. And, in my case as a basic ed instructor, my students either pass the GED tests or they do not. My instructional colleagues and I are able to point the projects, portfolios, and presentations of our students and say, "Yes, they have learned the material." Our job, we think, is much easier than, say, a French medieval scholar, a business leadership theorist, or even a tenured education professor.
Yet, Brooks challenges this complacency by asking if in addition to teaching students how to create and use widgets, do our students graduate into the workforce with the communicating and thinking skills necessary for employment as well as being contributing members of society. Gulp. He points out that studies show that nearly half the students (albeit he is talking four-year+ degrees here) "show no significant gain in critical thinking, complex reasoning and writing skills during their first two years of college."
Assessment of things and activities are relatively easy. Assessment of critical thinking and communicating skills are much more difficult. The challenge, I think, is first to incorporate these critical skills in all curriculum (which we do on paper) and then work out ways to assess the learning of these skills. That is a continuing challenge for all educators. I don't consider the Brooks column as an indictment of education as much as a challenge, a challenge education needs to accept.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Losing language, losing a people
News item from Indian Country Media Network, "Alaska Native Language Loses Last Native Speaker." "The world and the Holikachuk Athabascan language suffered a great loss with the passing of Wilson "Tiny" Deacon on March 10, 2012. He was 86."
The loss of language coincides with the loss of the soul of a people, in my opinion. We are what we think and what we think is coded through our native (and sometimes acquired) languages. When the fluency of a language is lost, the language becomes a museum piece, a dusty exhibit visited only by equally dusty scholars but is, essentially, dead -- a shell of a way of life that can no longer be described. That loss is sad. Native people have long recognized the importance of native languages and have fought to retain their language as a mark of their identity. Here in Northeast Wisconsin, the Menominee and Oneida tribes work to carry on their language through the next seven generations, as they say, though that is hard to do in an overwhelming, encroaching white culture.
Julie Raymond-Yakoubian, of the University of Alaska-Fairbanks, described Mr. Deacon: "He strongly identified his life with the traditional, now-abandoned village of Holikachuk on the Innoko River in interior Alaska, where he was born. Tiny spent many years hunting and trapping in the forests of the Innoko River region and possessed an almost unimaginable wealth of traditional knowledge about the land the its inhabitants."
As a comparison of the importance of language, I think of the changes to the Catholic Church in the 1960s brought about not only by the Second Vatican Council, but also by the change from Latin to the vernacular at Sunday Mass. Once the mystery and music of the Latin prayer were replaced by the clanging sounds of English among other languages, the Church was bound to change, because the way we described and thought about the central weekly sacrament had changed. Change the language and you change the core of people. Lose the language, and the people and all they stand for fade away into history.
I mourn the loss of Wilson "Tiny" Deacon, but also of the Holikachuk way of life that has been lost.
The loss of language coincides with the loss of the soul of a people, in my opinion. We are what we think and what we think is coded through our native (and sometimes acquired) languages. When the fluency of a language is lost, the language becomes a museum piece, a dusty exhibit visited only by equally dusty scholars but is, essentially, dead -- a shell of a way of life that can no longer be described. That loss is sad. Native people have long recognized the importance of native languages and have fought to retain their language as a mark of their identity. Here in Northeast Wisconsin, the Menominee and Oneida tribes work to carry on their language through the next seven generations, as they say, though that is hard to do in an overwhelming, encroaching white culture.
Julie Raymond-Yakoubian, of the University of Alaska-Fairbanks, described Mr. Deacon: "He strongly identified his life with the traditional, now-abandoned village of Holikachuk on the Innoko River in interior Alaska, where he was born. Tiny spent many years hunting and trapping in the forests of the Innoko River region and possessed an almost unimaginable wealth of traditional knowledge about the land the its inhabitants."
As a comparison of the importance of language, I think of the changes to the Catholic Church in the 1960s brought about not only by the Second Vatican Council, but also by the change from Latin to the vernacular at Sunday Mass. Once the mystery and music of the Latin prayer were replaced by the clanging sounds of English among other languages, the Church was bound to change, because the way we described and thought about the central weekly sacrament had changed. Change the language and you change the core of people. Lose the language, and the people and all they stand for fade away into history.
I mourn the loss of Wilson "Tiny" Deacon, but also of the Holikachuk way of life that has been lost.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Moving beyond the classroom
The two line summary beneath the blog title has bothered me since I started writing this in January. Do I limit myself to education and teaching, and if I do, will I be violating the privacy my students for the sake of a blog?
As you can tell, I have been a bit self-conscious about speaking on behalf of the school I work for. I think I have gotten over that. What I see in the classroom is important, and my opinion about the importance of continuing adult education stands fast and will likely continue to inspire reflections. That is, however, only part of who I am, and if this blog is to have a life beyond the rhythms of the college semester, my subject matter needs to expand into all areas that I am interested in.
I spent the last three years developing creative writing chops in a graduate program. It seems a shame to submerge them back under an undergraduate journalistic voice, the unbiased reporter of rhe mundane. So, rather than limit myself to teaching and education, I choose to expand into other subjects. A single line about exploring "the nature of things" will be more complete than what the blog had been titled. The writing may still be boring, but it will no longer be limited.
As you can tell, I have been a bit self-conscious about speaking on behalf of the school I work for. I think I have gotten over that. What I see in the classroom is important, and my opinion about the importance of continuing adult education stands fast and will likely continue to inspire reflections. That is, however, only part of who I am, and if this blog is to have a life beyond the rhythms of the college semester, my subject matter needs to expand into all areas that I am interested in.
I spent the last three years developing creative writing chops in a graduate program. It seems a shame to submerge them back under an undergraduate journalistic voice, the unbiased reporter of rhe mundane. So, rather than limit myself to teaching and education, I choose to expand into other subjects. A single line about exploring "the nature of things" will be more complete than what the blog had been titled. The writing may still be boring, but it will no longer be limited.
Friday, March 30, 2012
World don't want you to do that
Procrastination is a problem with workers, with students, and, yes, with instructors. We know what we need to do, we just don't get up and do it. I just read a memorial by Dinty W. Moore to memoirist Harry Crew (1935-2012) in the online blog for the online magazine, Brevity, that puts it much, much better. Crew wrote:
"You have to go to considerable trouble to live differently from the way the world wants you to live... The world doesn't want you to do a damn thing. If you wait until you got time to write a novel or time to write a story, or time to read the hundred thousands of books you should have already read -- if you wait for the time, you'll never do it. Cause there ain't no time; world don't want you to do that. World wants you to go to the zoo and eat cotton candy, preferably seven days a week."
Go out and live. Amen.
"You have to go to considerable trouble to live differently from the way the world wants you to live... The world doesn't want you to do a damn thing. If you wait until you got time to write a novel or time to write a story, or time to read the hundred thousands of books you should have already read -- if you wait for the time, you'll never do it. Cause there ain't no time; world don't want you to do that. World wants you to go to the zoo and eat cotton candy, preferably seven days a week."
Go out and live. Amen.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
When the Best Class is the College Community
The question of the Wall Street Journal feature on Monday, March 19, was, "Can Entrepreneurship Be Taught?" The debate featured a professor from the Harvard Business School (he thought it could be taught) and a Silicon Valley venture capitalist who thought it could not be taught. Since I have been an successful entrepreneur and taught the subject as an adjunct some years ago, I thought both writers scored points. The truth lies somewhere between: you need knowledge to be successful, but you also need an undefined passion and drive that can't be taught.
A comment made by the venture capitalist, Victor W. Hwang, under the heading, "The Best Class is Real Life," made me think of the students I work with at the school. Hwang spoke of working with entrepreneurs, "We should come up with ways to help entrepreneurs help themselves to learn more effectively. This means finding ways to provide them with a network of mentors and advisers and nurturing a business culture around them that says: dream big, open doors and listen to new people, trust and be trusted, experiment, make mistakes, treat others fairly and pay it forward."
Wouldn't it be great if education could consistently do the same with students: surround them with mentors, encourage them to dream big, and preach the virtue of paying it forward? Sure, some of our students are fortunate to fall into a situation where this kind of support is in place, but for most the support needs to come from within, just as it does with entrepreneurs. Both groups benefit from social groups that support and sustain their dreams. Hwang advocates supportive communities for entrepreneurs; in college, instructors, organizations, and fellow students take those roles. In fact, the design of a college community surrounds its students with levels of support that can be ideas exchanged over coffee in the Daily Buzz, or an instructor-initiated evaluation of a semester-long project.
Initiative and drive can't be taught in the classroom, but it can be supported and nurtured.
A comment made by the venture capitalist, Victor W. Hwang, under the heading, "The Best Class is Real Life," made me think of the students I work with at the school. Hwang spoke of working with entrepreneurs, "We should come up with ways to help entrepreneurs help themselves to learn more effectively. This means finding ways to provide them with a network of mentors and advisers and nurturing a business culture around them that says: dream big, open doors and listen to new people, trust and be trusted, experiment, make mistakes, treat others fairly and pay it forward."
Wouldn't it be great if education could consistently do the same with students: surround them with mentors, encourage them to dream big, and preach the virtue of paying it forward? Sure, some of our students are fortunate to fall into a situation where this kind of support is in place, but for most the support needs to come from within, just as it does with entrepreneurs. Both groups benefit from social groups that support and sustain their dreams. Hwang advocates supportive communities for entrepreneurs; in college, instructors, organizations, and fellow students take those roles. In fact, the design of a college community surrounds its students with levels of support that can be ideas exchanged over coffee in the Daily Buzz, or an instructor-initiated evaluation of a semester-long project.
Initiative and drive can't be taught in the classroom, but it can be supported and nurtured.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Fifty percent increase in student success
The top-tier students have their advocates, as do the bottom-tier students (although the advocacy there may be of an entirely different nature). But what about the students in the middle? Those who are not trouble, but those who do not post perfect scores on their SATs either. Those students make up the bulk of the high school and college classrooms. Students who barely survive post-secondary classes and only have a two in three chance of collecting a diploma. Where are their advocates?
USA Today published an article on March 17 about a New York program called SEO (Sponsors for Educational Opportunity) that provides mentoring and all-day Saturday school for the great middle of our classrooms. These students sit quietly, rarely volunteer, and are passed just above the minimum GPA in the traditional classroom. What, the program asks, would happen if these middle-tier students had just a little extra help?
SEO works on classroom basics: math, reading, writing, vocabulary, and grammar. Results are impressive, according to the article written by Greg Toppo: "SEO students post academic skills indistinguishable from those of their suburban peers. Last year, the program sent 100% of its graduates (about 120 at a time) to four-year colleges. Nearly all earn diplomas: 91% last year vs. 63% for most college students."
The difference between a student taking advantage of supplemental education program, like SEO, and those who have to make it on their own, can be life-changing. The figures quoted by Toppo speak volumes: almost a 50% increase in the final collegiate goal, receiving a diploma. So, if there is a proven program that increases success by 50% why isn't it being used in every school system?
True it is expensive because it is teacher-intensive. The SEO program costs about $5000 per student per year. And, working on the basics of grammar and vocabulary is not as sexy as wiring the classroom with the latest technology. We seem to want to invest our education money in toys that go whiz-bang rather than the proven building blocks that help students get to where they want to go. We can do better by our middle-tier of students. We know how. We just need to give them a little more help.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
State Conferences: Place a Face to the Space
I spent two days at a Wisconsin Technical College System curriculum conference last week. To be honest, I would rather be in my assigned classroom working with students, but on occasion it is important to mingle with fellow BE, ELL, and Literacy instructors. Since this was my introduction to state level meetings as a faculty member, I stayed a little in the background, trying to match faces with colleges, and sort out jargon that comes with the position.
The NRS (National Reporting System) seemed a little clearer to me after hearing from the Washington, D.C. speaker who manages the system from the Department of Education. In the past, the NRS had just been a list of requirements from the "feds". You report student outcomes, and employment, and progression not only because it's a good idea to quantify what you are doing, but because it was required by the "feds". After the Wednesday session, and over a beer at a reception Wednesday night, I had a chance to meet one of the feds and place a face to the system. A few moments of face-to-face discussion is more productive than a stream of impersonal emails.
Since you are the new person, you are often the one going up to people saying, "Hi, I'm Doug from Green Bay." I met colleagues from the northern-most regions of the state in Superior, to Racine and Kenosha instructors. Madison Area Technical College faculty peppered the sessions, since the four-story downtown campus is across the street from the Concourse Hotel where the spring meeting was held. And, I met faculty who are from neighboring districts from Moraine Park Technical College in Fond du Lac, Fox Valley Tech in Appleton, and Northcentral Tech in Wausau.
I still need to type out notes for my team members in Green Bay who were not able to attend, and I was recruited to take minutes at a final afternoon session about BE Writing classes. Followup to a conference like this is important -- otherwise why attend at all? So, you might see a little more about the conference in future posts.
The NRS (National Reporting System) seemed a little clearer to me after hearing from the Washington, D.C. speaker who manages the system from the Department of Education. In the past, the NRS had just been a list of requirements from the "feds". You report student outcomes, and employment, and progression not only because it's a good idea to quantify what you are doing, but because it was required by the "feds". After the Wednesday session, and over a beer at a reception Wednesday night, I had a chance to meet one of the feds and place a face to the system. A few moments of face-to-face discussion is more productive than a stream of impersonal emails.
Since you are the new person, you are often the one going up to people saying, "Hi, I'm Doug from Green Bay." I met colleagues from the northern-most regions of the state in Superior, to Racine and Kenosha instructors. Madison Area Technical College faculty peppered the sessions, since the four-story downtown campus is across the street from the Concourse Hotel where the spring meeting was held. And, I met faculty who are from neighboring districts from Moraine Park Technical College in Fond du Lac, Fox Valley Tech in Appleton, and Northcentral Tech in Wausau.
I still need to type out notes for my team members in Green Bay who were not able to attend, and I was recruited to take minutes at a final afternoon session about BE Writing classes. Followup to a conference like this is important -- otherwise why attend at all? So, you might see a little more about the conference in future posts.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Good Days and Great Days
Rewards in the Basic Education classroom are often found in small steps: mastering fractions, finishing a grade-level book that had been beyond reach, understanding how the five-paragraph essay is put together, understanding the sedimentary layering of debris. Added together, they show progress, but on a day-to-day basis, basic education can seem like a slog.
Then there are days like yesterday.
I was able to deliver good news to two students who I have been working with since the fall. The first student is of Filipino descent and had working to improve reading so that she could enter our CNA program. The minimum reading standard is grade level 8.3. For some native speakers, this can be a challenge. For someone new to the language and the country, this is a very tall hurdle. She worked hard in the classroom before Christmas and, disappointed, still fell short of the mark.
After the first of the year, she returned and continued to work in the lab and on an online basic education program called Skills Tutor. The combination of time (probably more than 20-hours) and effort finally worked. Yesterday she showed me her TABE reading score: 8.3, right on the money. She is thrilled to be cleared for entry into the program, though her preparation is not yet complete. She still needs to work on her reading and language skills: 8.3 is college minimum, and higher levels would make the course work easier. I have confidence that she will put in the work.
The second good news was about a final GED test. This student had also been working with me since, I think, October. He had been patiently taking GED tests at the Shawano Regional Center (once a month the test examiner visits us on Tuesday mornings) and had been collecting a series of excellent scores, including two 800-point (perfect) GED tests. His last test, Language Arts: Writing, included a multiple choice grammar and punctuation section and a 45-minute essay. This test had been left to the end, because he was dreading it. The results had been delayed because the dreaded essay needs to be graded by two outside examiners and that takes time, often a couple of weeks.
Yesterday, I received the scores. He passed comfortably and I was able to pass the news on him. This student not only passed the GED tests, but he passed with High Honors. NWTC has a graduation ceremony in the commons of the Green Bay campus in June to celebrate the GED/HSED graduates of the past year. I encouraged him to take the time and "walk" across the stage to receive his diploma and acclaim. He deserves the praise.
All my students deserve the praise.
Then there are days like yesterday.
I was able to deliver good news to two students who I have been working with since the fall. The first student is of Filipino descent and had working to improve reading so that she could enter our CNA program. The minimum reading standard is grade level 8.3. For some native speakers, this can be a challenge. For someone new to the language and the country, this is a very tall hurdle. She worked hard in the classroom before Christmas and, disappointed, still fell short of the mark.
After the first of the year, she returned and continued to work in the lab and on an online basic education program called Skills Tutor. The combination of time (probably more than 20-hours) and effort finally worked. Yesterday she showed me her TABE reading score: 8.3, right on the money. She is thrilled to be cleared for entry into the program, though her preparation is not yet complete. She still needs to work on her reading and language skills: 8.3 is college minimum, and higher levels would make the course work easier. I have confidence that she will put in the work.
The second good news was about a final GED test. This student had also been working with me since, I think, October. He had been patiently taking GED tests at the Shawano Regional Center (once a month the test examiner visits us on Tuesday mornings) and had been collecting a series of excellent scores, including two 800-point (perfect) GED tests. His last test, Language Arts: Writing, included a multiple choice grammar and punctuation section and a 45-minute essay. This test had been left to the end, because he was dreading it. The results had been delayed because the dreaded essay needs to be graded by two outside examiners and that takes time, often a couple of weeks.
Yesterday, I received the scores. He passed comfortably and I was able to pass the news on him. This student not only passed the GED tests, but he passed with High Honors. NWTC has a graduation ceremony in the commons of the Green Bay campus in June to celebrate the GED/HSED graduates of the past year. I encouraged him to take the time and "walk" across the stage to receive his diploma and acclaim. He deserves the praise.
All my students deserve the praise.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
A Long Commute Home
The roads from Green Bay to Oconto Falls this morning were passable for the patient. I'm glad I didn't have to drive much farther though. Hwy 141 was closed north of Crivitz for part of the morning. That's a hazard of being a Regional Center instructor during the winter months in Wisconsin. Most of the time winter driving is not a problem, but once or twice a winter, getting to work can be a challenge.
The worst drive was a few years ago when I taught the 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. shift at the Shawano Basic Education lab. A storm was predicted for later in the day, but the initial drive was clear. Maybe the storm would pass south or north of us, I thought. By 4 p.m. the lab and most of the other classrooms had cleared out leaving me and a few front office staff members still at the center. Green Bay central offices officially closed the college at 5 p.m. releasing us. I thought of staying put, but decided to try my luck in the storm.
The road conditions, the closing dark, and the blowing snow almost forced me into a hotel/restaurant at the Hwy 29 interchange even before I left the city. But I pushed on driving down the on ramp onto the east-west highway. Most of the time, I could see tracks left by cars along the way. The plows had been pulled off by that time. Sometimes I was able to follow the lights of a car or truck in the distance, but I wasn't sure if the vehicle was on the highway or an access road. Most of the time all I saw was the suggestion of a road and the diagonal streaks of blowing snow. My speed was down to 20-15 mph at times as I kept track of the road by following the waist-high reflectors posted along the right side of the road way.
After creeping along for more than an hour, a car came up behind and passed me on the roadway. I sped up sticking to its tail lights, twisting and turning. I thought Hwy. 29 was a relatively straight road, but I kept behind those twin tail lights. When the car pulled off into a private driveway, I realized that I had followed it off the highway, onto an access ramp and north onto a crossing country road. I wasn't sure where I was headed, but I had three-quarters of a tank of gas and the road was a little clearer than before. I just kept driving.
I ended up in the city of Pulaski, a few miles north of Hwy. 29. Again, I was tempted to pull into an inviting restaurant to wait out the storm, but I didn't know how long the wait would be, so I turned south and rejoined 29. By this time the worst of the story had passed and the driving was just difficult, not impossible. I pulled into Green Bay's city limits, pulled off the side of the road and called Nan to tell her that I was safe and still on my way. The time was 7:30. A 45-minute commute from Shawano had taken more than two hours. I probably should not have been out, but now I was home.
The worst drive was a few years ago when I taught the 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. shift at the Shawano Basic Education lab. A storm was predicted for later in the day, but the initial drive was clear. Maybe the storm would pass south or north of us, I thought. By 4 p.m. the lab and most of the other classrooms had cleared out leaving me and a few front office staff members still at the center. Green Bay central offices officially closed the college at 5 p.m. releasing us. I thought of staying put, but decided to try my luck in the storm.
The road conditions, the closing dark, and the blowing snow almost forced me into a hotel/restaurant at the Hwy 29 interchange even before I left the city. But I pushed on driving down the on ramp onto the east-west highway. Most of the time, I could see tracks left by cars along the way. The plows had been pulled off by that time. Sometimes I was able to follow the lights of a car or truck in the distance, but I wasn't sure if the vehicle was on the highway or an access road. Most of the time all I saw was the suggestion of a road and the diagonal streaks of blowing snow. My speed was down to 20-15 mph at times as I kept track of the road by following the waist-high reflectors posted along the right side of the road way.
After creeping along for more than an hour, a car came up behind and passed me on the roadway. I sped up sticking to its tail lights, twisting and turning. I thought Hwy. 29 was a relatively straight road, but I kept behind those twin tail lights. When the car pulled off into a private driveway, I realized that I had followed it off the highway, onto an access ramp and north onto a crossing country road. I wasn't sure where I was headed, but I had three-quarters of a tank of gas and the road was a little clearer than before. I just kept driving.
I ended up in the city of Pulaski, a few miles north of Hwy. 29. Again, I was tempted to pull into an inviting restaurant to wait out the storm, but I didn't know how long the wait would be, so I turned south and rejoined 29. By this time the worst of the story had passed and the driving was just difficult, not impossible. I pulled into Green Bay's city limits, pulled off the side of the road and called Nan to tell her that I was safe and still on my way. The time was 7:30. A 45-minute commute from Shawano had taken more than two hours. I probably should not have been out, but now I was home.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Comparing Beginners and Enders
"Wha'cha writing?"
My writing projects begin with a vague idea of a direction and then move through twists and turns of vocabulary choices and sentence construction until the work develops its own rhythm and sense of purpose. This may seem to be an odd way to write, and often relies on a heavy finger on the delete key, but I find, talking with fellow writers, that my method is not uncommon. Writers write to find out what we think, more than we think of what we ought to write.
I mention this after reading a quote from the book, Art & Fear: Observations and Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, by David Bayles and Ted Orland: "Art is like beginning a sentence before you know its ending." I can understand that about writing single sentences as well as on applying that strategy to other non-writing projects. One begins a task with a literal or metaphorical blank piece of paper. We are bound by the limitations of the paper, but can, within limitations of time, space, and talent, sketch out wonderful ideas and produce creative work.
I believe those who are productive and most successful are not worried about the results. This is in contrast to those who are stuck on the process and feel the need to see the ending whole and complete, before they start typing a single word. I suppose that strategy has its advocates and has its place, but I truly wonder if the "enders" get as much done as the "beginners." Most of what we do does not have a prescribed ending -- Good Lord, it sometimes does not even have a beginning. But if we wait to puzzle out all the details before we start something new, we spend all our time puzzling and not much time producing.
"Wha'cha writing?" I don't know. All I can promise is it will be better than what I have done before.
My writing projects begin with a vague idea of a direction and then move through twists and turns of vocabulary choices and sentence construction until the work develops its own rhythm and sense of purpose. This may seem to be an odd way to write, and often relies on a heavy finger on the delete key, but I find, talking with fellow writers, that my method is not uncommon. Writers write to find out what we think, more than we think of what we ought to write.
I mention this after reading a quote from the book, Art & Fear: Observations and Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, by David Bayles and Ted Orland: "Art is like beginning a sentence before you know its ending." I can understand that about writing single sentences as well as on applying that strategy to other non-writing projects. One begins a task with a literal or metaphorical blank piece of paper. We are bound by the limitations of the paper, but can, within limitations of time, space, and talent, sketch out wonderful ideas and produce creative work.
I believe those who are productive and most successful are not worried about the results. This is in contrast to those who are stuck on the process and feel the need to see the ending whole and complete, before they start typing a single word. I suppose that strategy has its advocates and has its place, but I truly wonder if the "enders" get as much done as the "beginners." Most of what we do does not have a prescribed ending -- Good Lord, it sometimes does not even have a beginning. But if we wait to puzzle out all the details before we start something new, we spend all our time puzzling and not much time producing.
"Wha'cha writing?" I don't know. All I can promise is it will be better than what I have done before.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Math is Only Scary When You Fear It
Ohio State University researchers have discovered that if you suffer from an irrational fear of spiders, spiders will seem much larger than they actually are. That bit from today's ABC News website reminds me of the basic ed students who have been working on math lately in the lab and the FastTrack course.
Kris Simonson and I have been team teaching a pilot GED FastTrack course at the Shawano Regional Center for the past couple of weeks. This week we began a three-week, six-class review of GED level math. I started out with basic math on Tuesday: addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Kris moved it up a notch today with work on fractions and decimals. We have been trying to make one single point with students: math problems aren't nearly as indecipherable and unsolvable as they first appear. Math is only scary when you fear it.
Math moves consistently, logically, progressively from basic applications all the way to algebra and beyond. Most math problems can be solved by baby steps by considering single numbers, rather than trying to imagine a solution in one all-reaching inspiration. One digit at a time, one place value at a time will move a student through the most complicated series of equations. Learn the rules, start with the basics, develop confidence in your calculations, and math-phobia fades away.
Kris Simonson and I have been team teaching a pilot GED FastTrack course at the Shawano Regional Center for the past couple of weeks. This week we began a three-week, six-class review of GED level math. I started out with basic math on Tuesday: addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Kris moved it up a notch today with work on fractions and decimals. We have been trying to make one single point with students: math problems aren't nearly as indecipherable and unsolvable as they first appear. Math is only scary when you fear it.
Math moves consistently, logically, progressively from basic applications all the way to algebra and beyond. Most math problems can be solved by baby steps by considering single numbers, rather than trying to imagine a solution in one all-reaching inspiration. One digit at a time, one place value at a time will move a student through the most complicated series of equations. Learn the rules, start with the basics, develop confidence in your calculations, and math-phobia fades away.
Monday, February 20, 2012
How far can a GED take you?
NPR posted a story on Saturday, Feb. 18, titled, "In Today's Economy, How Far Can a GED Take You?" On first glance the story seems discouraging to students who are pursuing the GED because it says that GED students "are no better than dropouts when it comes to their chances of getting a good job."
The story is told from the point of view of high schools who want students to finish their high school studies rather than opting for the GED route. I don't know of any Basic Ed instructor who would quarrel with that comment. Yes, the high school diploma is preferable, but (and there is always a "but" when talking about life) the GED is still a worthwhile goal.
An author, interviewed for the story, claims that employers are looking for "things like perseverence and tenacity, and those kinds of qualities are not measured by the GED." Huh? The author has probably not worked with GED students. If he did, he would know that GED students will not succeed unless they have the drive to complete what, admittedly, should have been completed when they were 18 or 19. The idea that the GED is a shortcut to education is rather insulting. The GED is a credential that shows an employer that the student has the discipline to pursue the certificate after high school days, that allows a student to move on to post-secondary classes, and that gives the student a little hope in tough times. How far can a GED take you? How far do you want to go?
I would love to administer the GED predictor tests that my students take to the critics of the certificate cited in this story. I wonder how they might score and I wonder what they might think of this "shortcut" then?
The story is told from the point of view of high schools who want students to finish their high school studies rather than opting for the GED route. I don't know of any Basic Ed instructor who would quarrel with that comment. Yes, the high school diploma is preferable, but (and there is always a "but" when talking about life) the GED is still a worthwhile goal.
An author, interviewed for the story, claims that employers are looking for "things like perseverence and tenacity, and those kinds of qualities are not measured by the GED." Huh? The author has probably not worked with GED students. If he did, he would know that GED students will not succeed unless they have the drive to complete what, admittedly, should have been completed when they were 18 or 19. The idea that the GED is a shortcut to education is rather insulting. The GED is a credential that shows an employer that the student has the discipline to pursue the certificate after high school days, that allows a student to move on to post-secondary classes, and that gives the student a little hope in tough times. How far can a GED take you? How far do you want to go?
I would love to administer the GED predictor tests that my students take to the critics of the certificate cited in this story. I wonder how they might score and I wonder what they might think of this "shortcut" then?
Friday, February 17, 2012
In praise of GED students
Seven students will take eight GED tests in Shawano on Tuesday. One other Oconto Falls student will take two tests in Marinette on Thursday. That's a good week on my schedule and in the lives of these students.
Each one of these tests represents hours of work by the individual student, who is working hard to complete the GED or HSED so he or she can move ahead in life. Job choices for workers who don't have the GED are limited, and my students are very aware of that. They face that limitation on a daily basis. That's why they are working in my Basic Education lab or taking the GED FastTrack course. The question about high school diploma on a job applications is a deal-breaker for even the skilled worker, since employers prefer to hire those who have a high school credential.
Those who come back to GED preparation after five, 10, 20 or even 30 years should be congratulated. They are making the first steps on the road to educational recovery. Those who then have the courage to take one of the five individual tests should be praised by family and friends. It's not easy for anyone to come back to school. There are lots of reasons not to come to the BE lab, but only reason to do it -- it opens more doors and creates hope for a better future.
Each one of these tests represents hours of work by the individual student, who is working hard to complete the GED or HSED so he or she can move ahead in life. Job choices for workers who don't have the GED are limited, and my students are very aware of that. They face that limitation on a daily basis. That's why they are working in my Basic Education lab or taking the GED FastTrack course. The question about high school diploma on a job applications is a deal-breaker for even the skilled worker, since employers prefer to hire those who have a high school credential.
Those who come back to GED preparation after five, 10, 20 or even 30 years should be congratulated. They are making the first steps on the road to educational recovery. Those who then have the courage to take one of the five individual tests should be praised by family and friends. It's not easy for anyone to come back to school. There are lots of reasons not to come to the BE lab, but only reason to do it -- it opens more doors and creates hope for a better future.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Sleepless before Shawano
I had a sleepless night last week.
Monday was the night before the pilot GED FastTrack course in Shawano. The course was prepared (as much as you can prepare a brand-new course) and all that was needed was the hour to come and the students. Yet discouraging scenarios replayed themselves in my mind's eye like a 3-minute loop of an audio tape. I understand that that analogy is dated, but how does one loop a dvd or iTunes snippet? Sometimes the old similes work the best. Let's just say that I couldn't sleep.
I wasn't really worried about presenting the course. I have had more than five year's experience teaching and am now fairly confident that I can work myself out of most classroom situations. I have also had more than 20+ years of amateur theater experience and have never found a scene that couldn't be saved. No, the presentation wasn't the worry. What worried me was the responsibility I had assumed for initiating this pilot. This is a responsibility to my students and to the school. Both of those parties put a great deal of faith that the instructor will effectively deliver the instruction. I didn't want to disappoint.
I am very aware that students have certain expectations. This group of students had signed up for an accelerated GED program. What if my lessons weren't effective? What if they didn't help the students, or even worse, what if the lessons discouraged them from pursuing their own education? A course can be a de-motivator as well as a motivator. Once a course began, I know classes have a way of settling out, but the night before a new course? That's when the doubts and worries seem more real than the actual course.
That's when you don't sleep.
Monday was the night before the pilot GED FastTrack course in Shawano. The course was prepared (as much as you can prepare a brand-new course) and all that was needed was the hour to come and the students. Yet discouraging scenarios replayed themselves in my mind's eye like a 3-minute loop of an audio tape. I understand that that analogy is dated, but how does one loop a dvd or iTunes snippet? Sometimes the old similes work the best. Let's just say that I couldn't sleep.
I wasn't really worried about presenting the course. I have had more than five year's experience teaching and am now fairly confident that I can work myself out of most classroom situations. I have also had more than 20+ years of amateur theater experience and have never found a scene that couldn't be saved. No, the presentation wasn't the worry. What worried me was the responsibility I had assumed for initiating this pilot. This is a responsibility to my students and to the school. Both of those parties put a great deal of faith that the instructor will effectively deliver the instruction. I didn't want to disappoint.
I am very aware that students have certain expectations. This group of students had signed up for an accelerated GED program. What if my lessons weren't effective? What if they didn't help the students, or even worse, what if the lessons discouraged them from pursuing their own education? A course can be a de-motivator as well as a motivator. Once a course began, I know classes have a way of settling out, but the night before a new course? That's when the doubts and worries seem more real than the actual course.
That's when you don't sleep.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
When we didn't know what we didn't know
The first spring session of IPA convened last week in a classroom tucked away in the Apprentice area of the college. IPA is training program for new faculty at NWTC. Our class of 31 new instructors has been meeting since the first week in August 2011 when we all began our new careers as part- or full-time instructors. Some of us had experience as adjuncts, but a good number of us had never taught in a classroom before. IPA helped show our way.
The first session of IPA was 10-day crash course before the fall semester about NWTC: employee benefits, strengths finding, a rather detailed tour of the Green Bay campus with Dr. Rafn, Cliff Notes of Educational Psychology and Teaching Methods, and a preview of all the resources available to us at the college. It was a blur, even for me who had been an adjunct for five years. I can't imagine the head spin inflicted on the brand-new instructors by pages and pages of information. After that initial marathon, we met on a monthly basis and then weekly through a Blackboard course, strengthening our cohort.
Somehow, we all survived the first semester, and assembled again this past Friday to meet five new instructors hired in January, to catch up on gossip, to exchange classroom stories, and to celebrate our one semester of experience. Last August we knew we didn't know what we didn't know and had more than a little self-doubt as we walked to our first class. Now, we still know we don't know a lot about teaching, but have a semester of experience to build upon. I believe the college is constantly renewed by the work experience and naive energy of new instructors, and our students will benefit as we reform that experience and energy into dynamic teaching practices. Again, IPA shows the way.
The first session of IPA was 10-day crash course before the fall semester about NWTC: employee benefits, strengths finding, a rather detailed tour of the Green Bay campus with Dr. Rafn, Cliff Notes of Educational Psychology and Teaching Methods, and a preview of all the resources available to us at the college. It was a blur, even for me who had been an adjunct for five years. I can't imagine the head spin inflicted on the brand-new instructors by pages and pages of information. After that initial marathon, we met on a monthly basis and then weekly through a Blackboard course, strengthening our cohort.
Somehow, we all survived the first semester, and assembled again this past Friday to meet five new instructors hired in January, to catch up on gossip, to exchange classroom stories, and to celebrate our one semester of experience. Last August we knew we didn't know what we didn't know and had more than a little self-doubt as we walked to our first class. Now, we still know we don't know a lot about teaching, but have a semester of experience to build upon. I believe the college is constantly renewed by the work experience and naive energy of new instructors, and our students will benefit as we reform that experience and energy into dynamic teaching practices. Again, IPA shows the way.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
An eagle on a winter day
A few blocks from home on a cold January walk, I looked up and saw a bird circling overhead. At first I thought it was a hawk, who dines on rabbits and small rodents that scurry under bushes between the historic houses in our neighborhood. A silhouette is all that could be seen at first.
But then, as it grew larger and closer to our path, we saw that it was an eagle. There have been more and more sightings of eagles along the Fox River in Green Bay. Nan said she had seen an eagle a few blocks from here, but I had not not seen one this far from the De Pere dam which has open water and plenty of fish. The white tail, white head and squarish wings were unmistakable. So was its nonchalance. What happened below it seemed of little concern to the bird.
It circled above us so close that you could see the color of the beak and, perhaps, the eyes looking down at the strange couple who were walking on a late winter afternoon. Most people were warm inside their homes. We were the odd ducks, so to speak. The bird used very little effort to continue a spiral of circles above us and eventually moved farther east, inland. I'm not sure what it was looking for -- no fish available this far away from the frozen river.
I hesitate placing human emotions and logic onto other species, but at the moment, the eagle seemed to be just enjoying the final rays of the winter day. At that moment, it had no primal urges and no needs to satisfy. It was just enjoying a quiet cruise above the tops of the oaks. Not everything we do needs to have a purpose: sometimes a moment away from syllabi, exercises and course readings is as important as putting in an extra hour of studying. As students work toward their courses, program and diplomas, breaks are also important. It allows us to get a better perspective on the work we have to do and the goals we have in mind.
But then, as it grew larger and closer to our path, we saw that it was an eagle. There have been more and more sightings of eagles along the Fox River in Green Bay. Nan said she had seen an eagle a few blocks from here, but I had not not seen one this far from the De Pere dam which has open water and plenty of fish. The white tail, white head and squarish wings were unmistakable. So was its nonchalance. What happened below it seemed of little concern to the bird.
It circled above us so close that you could see the color of the beak and, perhaps, the eyes looking down at the strange couple who were walking on a late winter afternoon. Most people were warm inside their homes. We were the odd ducks, so to speak. The bird used very little effort to continue a spiral of circles above us and eventually moved farther east, inland. I'm not sure what it was looking for -- no fish available this far away from the frozen river.
I hesitate placing human emotions and logic onto other species, but at the moment, the eagle seemed to be just enjoying the final rays of the winter day. At that moment, it had no primal urges and no needs to satisfy. It was just enjoying a quiet cruise above the tops of the oaks. Not everything we do needs to have a purpose: sometimes a moment away from syllabi, exercises and course readings is as important as putting in an extra hour of studying. As students work toward their courses, program and diplomas, breaks are also important. It allows us to get a better perspective on the work we have to do and the goals we have in mind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)