What I Learned Today #5 - Tests are like fine art?

While in a workshop today, a conversation started on how reading comprehension is not just how the reader reacts to the text, but what the author's intentions are as well. As I thought over this, it occurred to me that this helps to explain why students have difficulty with testing in ELA; I realize that when a student is responding to a test, they are engaging in a discussion with not only the authors of the pieces that are used, but also the creators of the test questions.

Every test is written by someone or a group of "someones". Those people, as they create the test questions based on the authors' works, are actually initiating a conversation about these works with the test-taker. The creator of the test has (on well-made tests) brought out essential qualities and understandings inherent to the authors' words and is asking the test-taker to join in that discussion by selecting reasonable responses in multiple choice form (though I still think that written response works best - tougher to grade, I guess).

This conversation between test-taker and test-maker should not be overlooked as we work with students. Success on tests (and in class) is not found by simply having a personal reaction to a text, but it’s also not just a matter of “saying what they want you to say”. It’s somewhere in the middle, nested in that space where a teacher is looking for a student to open her or his mind to new ideas and perspectives, but to also bring an element of self to the conversation.

This draws me back to something that I've thought about quite a bit: that reading is more similar to viewing art than we acknowledge. For instance, I can debate with someone the merits of a certain painting and I can describe my feelings about that work, but I also have to take into account that there was a painter, and that painter had an intention. The painter's intention led to the creation, and that is where true understanding lies. I take my own visceral reactions to the work, then combine those feelings with a sincere attempt to understand what the artist is trying to convey.

So, how do we read this way? When I approach a text, I am bound to have a personal reaction to it in some way. However, I am also searching the author's work for clues to her or his intentions - the infamous "author's purpose" test question. Like a painting, I balance my reaction with my analysis to create understanding. If students were taught to do this with text, test-taking would become easier. When coming to a new passage, the student would read it and try to find a personal connection to it, but would then allow the test-maker to engage them in a discussion of elements that might not have been apparent on first glance.

I'm not saying that taking a standardized test is the same as viewing a Picasso, but it pays to note that in both cases there will be reaction that must be balanced against the creator's intentions. And when a student approaches a test this way, he or she is much more likely to be able to engage in the conversation that the test-maker has begun.

What I Learned Today #4 (What I like might not be what THEY like)

This past weekend I had a chance to go to Boston with my family. We had city passes that allowed us to go to multiple attractions, and we chose the Aquarium, the Children's Museum, and the Museum of Science. We had a blast as a family, and the kids really were excited (in truth, I was excited, too - this was my first time in Boston).

As we went through the various museums and exhibits, something became very clear: if something caught my or my wife's interest, the kids inevitably didn't want to spend time with it; however, the two of them gravitated toward things that we didn't think they would be interested in. This explains why the kids didn't particularly like the electricity room at the museum or want to spend time with the penguins at the aquarium, yet insisted on looking through every exhibit in the mathematics exhibit and wanted to listen to the complete presentation at the top of the giant tank (Don't get me wrong. I'm excited that they were into these things; it was just surprising).

But thinking back over our fun weekend made me consider the fact that this situation might be happening with my students. They might very well not enjoy the activities that I think they will like, and I may be missing activities that my students would really get into just because I don't think they will. In other words, what I've learned is: What's fun for ME might very well not be fun for MY STUDENTS.

Okay, so this is only a minor revelation, but I think that these are the little things that could make me a better educator. How many lessons, activities, and books have I passed over because I thought they wouldn't be fun for the students? How could I have known that for sure? These assumptions might be leading me away from creating an environment where the students are truly enjoying their learning.

This is not to say that I am now planning to have my students plan every task (I don't think that a year solely consisting of vampires, werewolves and Halo 3 would necessarily be valuable) but it's fair to say that I could bring their interests in a bit more often. A small tweak to be sure, but one that could vastly improve the delivery of my lessons.

What I Learned Today #3 (Pluto and Plasma - Admitting you're wrong)

They Might Be Giants recently released a CD/DVD called Here Comes Science (the third in their "Here comes..." series). My wife and I have loved this band since college, and now our two children have become huge fans as well. For a long time, they have performed a great song called "Why Does the Sun Shine? (The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas)". My family loves singing along to this oddly catchy ode to the sun's atomic properties.

However, with the release of this new disc, the band has issued a retraction (in a manner of speaking). While the original sun song is still present, there is now an additional song called "Why Does The Sun Really Shine? (The Sun is a Miasma of Incandescent Plasma)" that follows it immediately. The second song updates the scientific facts, discussing the nature of the fourth state of matter (plasma), and tells the listener in its lyrics to ignore what you learned in the previous song. Sample lyric: "Forget that song/They got it wrong/That thesis has been rendered invalid" Check out this link for a more detailed explanation.

In addition, they've recorded a great song that discusses the true nature of our solar system, indicating Pluto's new status along with other named dwarf planets. Taken with the songs about the sun, these choices by They Might Be Giants have led me to what I've learned today as a teacher: When you have taught something wrong, don't just admit that you're wrong; start to make things right.

As a teacher, I have certainly taught things wrong or provided inaccurate information before. Many times, I don't figure this out until after my work with those students is done (usually as I prepare the material again the next year), but I often catch my mistake while I'm still working with the students. It is at that moment that I need to make the choice: Will I ignore the mistake, admit to the mistake, or work to fix the mistake? Each choice holds its own merits, but the lesson from this children's album points to best practices in education, namely:

What to do when you make a mistake (courtesy of They Might Be Giants):

1) Admit to the mistake immediately. This may involve the students losing an illustion that we are infallible, but that can actually lead to a better situation in a classroom. Students who see teachers that are willing to admit mistakes become more likely to admit their own mistakes.

2) Explain why the mistake was made. Rather than just saying, "Forget that, it's wrong!", point out what was wrong about the previous information and why people might have believed that at the time.

3) Correct the mistake by replacing the wrong ideas with the right ones. Too often, we ask kids to disregard information that we taught them, but it's still lodged in their memories (and it will often emerge inconveniently after we thought they knew it was wrong). By replacing "wrong" information with "right" information, we won't just address the issue; we'll make sure that it doesn't come back.

So, this fall, I am going back to school prepared to admit my mistakes and to help my class learn from my mistakes (as I learn from them myself). However, I wonder how many students around the world will be taught that there are 9 planets in our solar system, revolving around a nuclear reactor of a sun, just because it's easier to teach that (and use the "My very educated mother..." phrase) than to update our knowledge.

What I Learned Today #2 - (Listen to Older Folks)

This summer, I'm painting a house for an octogenarian woman (named Emma) in my parents' neighborhood. She is a fixture in the community, and she knows local history like nobody else around. Yes, she occasionally rambles on through her anecdotes, but she's fascinating to talk to.

While talking to me yesterday, Emma said something that not only stuck out, but really made me think. In fact, as I thought about what she was saying, I was considering writing this post. That, in turn, made me think about how many really intelligent things that people say to me that go in one ear and out the other. This led to what I learned today: really listen to people when they are talking to you; if they say something of quality, don't just note it, but try to use it.

So, what did she say? She was telling me the story of a man who did not have much intelligence but who found a job maintaining the carts at his local grocery stores. He cleaned, oiled, and repaired the carts, and Emma claimed that there were never better carts at any other store she's visited. As the man aged and eventually passed away, people questioned his sister about how much of a burden it was to take care of someone who she knew would never amount to anything. The sister's response? "My brother's life was a success. You're only a failure if you don't make the most of the opportunities that you're given."

Am I "cleaning the carts" the best that I can? Do I maximize every opportunity? I'm going to admit that I'm don't. But I'm working on it, and I'm going to keep this story in mind as I try to do my best each day as an educator. I'll also remember that I wouldn't even be thinking about this if I hadn't taken a moment to listen to and reflect on the words of a dear old lady.

What I Learned Today #1 (Painting and Rules)

Today, I spent most of my time painting my living room. We've been meaning to upgrade from the white that was on the walls when we moved in for quite a while, but only recently did I finally make the move toward getting this project done. It's gone well, and my family is really pleased with the results.

Which makes me think: Is there something that I've been putting off trying in my classroom that could really benefit my students and me? I'm the kind of teacher who comes up with 15 "really great thoughts" every day, but then either fall off in motivation or forget the ideas because I don't write them down.

This past year in my classroom, I had the idea to post three simple rules in my room. These were positively stated and clear, and I shared them with my students on the first day of school (they actually liked the way I had phrased them). However, as I wrapped up the year and got the classroom ready for the summer, I realized that I had never posted the rules. Over and over, I told myself to get to it, but never made the final motion in the right direction. In retrospect, I'm a bit upset with myself for not doing something that was very easy, but now I have the chance to make it right by starting the year with these rules clearly labeled in my classroom. A small amount of volition can have great results (whether it's my living room or my classroom).

By the way, if you're interested, the three rules are:

1) In this room, we think first.
2) In this room, we consider others' thoughts and feelings.
3) In this room, we solve problems rather than creating them.

They'll be up on the first day of school this year (and my living room will finally be a different color than boring, dull white).