Student Ownership of Feedback

This week, I want to zoom in on student feedback. The teacher rubric of the MA Educator Evaluation System mentions providing feedback to students at several different points. Standard I, Indicator C asks us to consider how often we provide feedback to students based on assessment results and to think about how this feedback is shared -- I like to think about whether my focus when providing feedback to students is on growth and improvement or on a summative-type grade (and don't we all get frustrated with our students' tendency to focus only on the latter?). Standard II, Indicator B stresses that opportunities should be provided for students to regularly reflect on their own strengths and weaknesses, to goal-set, and to monitor their own progress. Providing such opportunities would definitely help us keep our feedback focus on growth and improvement rather than on just a grade. So, how can we set this up in our classrooms?

It starts with making sure our students know what their learning goals should be for a given lesson or unit. In Robert Marzano's Becoming a Reflective Teacher, he suggests providing students with a proficiency scale (or even having students help construct such a scale) that aligns with the objective(s) of the lesson/unit such that students are aware (ideally with the help of exemplars as well) of what it looks like to have met this objective or to still be working towards meeting the objective.

Once we've enabled students to be fully conscious of what skill or knowledge they are aiming for, we can ask them to keep a running record of their own scores from assessments given throughout the lesson/unit. In addition to keeping track of their scores, we can also ask them to record what it is they currently understand well, what they're getting better at, and what they still need to work on (all based on the objective's proficiency scale). In doing so, we've sent the message that meeting the objective through growth and improvement has been the true learning goal of this lesson/unit (versus getting a particular grade). And we've placed some ownership with the student -- we've created a system in which the student is reflecting and goal-setting based on meeting the objective.

Want to flesh out some specific ways to implement this, like what a proficiency scale with exemplars might look like for a given unit's objective(s), or how to set up a record-keeping tool for students? Let me know -- I'm still pregnant, thus not on leave YET -- I'm happy to help!

Games in the Classroom: Not ALL Fun & Games

Do your students play games in your classroom as part of the content and skills they are learning? Great! Games can be an excellent venue for formative assessment because they provide awesome opportunities for immediate feedback and support.

Check out this post from Edutopia for some specific examples. This is a wonderful time of year to think about introducing games to your classroom to keep up that student engagement and motivation as the days get sunnier and warmer.

Concerned about just how you can use games as formative assessment, using the informal data you gather by observing your students to inform future instruction? Give your district's instructional coach a holler -- she'd be glad to collaborate with you on this! 

A CAGE to Set You Free

Did you know there's a cage out there that you can keep your students in? AND it will give them more freedom?

Last night I attended the first of four sessions of a Primary Source workshop, Teaching for Global Understanding. The presenters introduced us to -- yet another! -- educational acronym (because who doesn't need another? I mean, I personally love them!). This one is CAGE, and here's how it breaks down:

Choice

Authentic

Globally connected

Exhibit to authentic audiences

CAGE is a lens through which to view your assessments. The idea is to think about assessments you already give, and apply the CAGE acronym to them. Does the assessment provide choice to students (can they choose their own topic, or product)? Is the assignment authentic -- is it something that people in the real world actually do? (For example, I don't know anyone in the real world who writes book reports. But people do other types of writing in "real life." And people do other types of things to share their ideas about a book in "real life.") Is the assessment globally connected -- does it provide students with an opportunity to explore or investigate global perspectives? Finally, can there be an authentic audience for the student's work -- is the audience more than just the student's teacher and classmates?

These factors -- choice, authenticity, connectivity -- can be real motivators for students. Don't pressure yourself too much, though. Not every assessment you give can (or potentially even should) meet all the requirements of CAGE. But it's excellent food for thought -- can all, or at least almost all, of your assessments meet at least half of CAGE? Can some of them meet all of CAGE? 

If you're interested in designing some assessments (or updating assessments you've given before) so that they motivate students, engaging them as global citizens and empowering their ownership over the assignment, please let me know! I'd love to provide you any support you need or want in freeing your students -- and yourself -- through the use of a CAGE.

TEACH!

 Last Friday night, CBS aired a special documentary called TEACH, following the classrooms of four teachers through some triumphs and through some struggles. There has been some controversy surrounding the film (it was made by some of the same people involved with Waiting for Superman, which has its own controversy surrounding it; some felt there should have been more of a variety of content areas and teacher ages represented in the film; some felt it was an advertisement for Khan Academy; etc.), but I won’t be delving into those areas. In fact, as a disclaimer to this post, I’ll let you know right now: I loved it. I thought it was a genuine depiction of the realities of teaching – the pressures we face, the obstacles we have to strive to overcome, however insurmountable. And this post details what I loved most about the piece: teacher reflection and growth.

[SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t seen TEACH yet and you’re planning on it, you may want to postpone reading this post! TEACH just became available on iTunes, I believe, so you can check it out there.]

The four teachers depicted in the documentary were real teachers. And real teachers make mistakes. (Yes, let’s admit it. We do make mistakes from time to time.) And these teachers made mistakes. But the great, inspiring take-away was that these four teachers, often with the help of a mentor, reflected on their practices and on their mistakes, grew from the experience, changed some things around, and ended up with some great results for their students.

Keeping the Class Student-Centered

One of the teachers in the film was a high school AP history teacher. Much loved by his students, who seemingly clamored to enroll in his class, he learned the hard way (during a class that was being observed by his graduate school education professor, no less!) that his class was too teacher-centered. Numerous times throughout the lesson (which was largely lecture-based) he asked the class some variation of the question, “Does everyone get this?” Each time, he was met by crickets. And each time, he proceeded along with the content of his lesson, presumably taking his students’ silence for a “Yes, we get this.” It’s easy to fall into this trap, especially when we feel we have to keep moving on with our lesson. But we should never take a class’ silence for understanding (nor should we take one student’s “Yes” as the answer for “Does everyone get this?”). In working with his graduate school professor, this teacher realized his lessons needed to be more student-centered in order to get them more involved and to aid in checking for understanding. Soon, he was having his students work in groups to brainstorm, problem solve, and create. A plethora of voices filled the air of his classroom, and you could see the learning taking place.

The 360 Degree Classroom

A secondary math teacher shown in the film struggled with a range of student abilities present in her class. Even more so, she struggled with not being able to easily watch her students in action, to observe them doing math in the moment. Working with the assistant principal, she took on the challenge of trying out a 360 degree classroom. Whiteboards were installed across all four of the walls of the classroom. Students were handed a marker and an eraser as they entered the room. And, (presumably after a whole class mini-lesson) students left their desks behind as they each found a place at one of the four wall-length white boards. The teacher left the front of the room behind, and stood directly in the middle of the room, where she could pivot and turn, watching her students work through a math problem. This helped her identify to whom she needed to go first with support, and who was progressing along independently. Once again, the learning was visible and the students engaged.

Tapping Into High-Interest

A third teacher portrayed in the film was an elementary teacher struggling with reading instruction. Some of his students were grade levels behind where they needed to be. It was even harder to motivate some of these students not only due to their low reading skills, but because these difficulties had made them dislike reading so much. During a post-observation conference with his principal, she simply asked him, “When you were a kid, what would make you want to read?” In the next segment of the film, we hear this teacher asking his students what their hobbies are, what their lives are like, what they want to be when they grow up. And we then see him scouring through books in the library, later bringing a stack of books into the classroom. Standing amongst his students, holding up book after book and quickly describing it (“Who has trouble with their friends? Who wants to be a chef when they grow up?”), he is pelted with excited shrieks and raised hands. Everyone was thrilled to begin reading these high-interest books. It was certainly one huge step in the right direction.

The Flipped Classroom

The fourth teacher shown in TEACH was a math teacher (if memory serves, middle school or upper elementary) from Idaho, which is piloting the use of Khan Academy in some of its classrooms statewide. Khan Academy is a tool for flipping your classroom – instead of conducting the lesson in front of all your students, students access the material from the (free!) Khan Academy resources online. The class time is now freed up for small group work, intervention groups, etc. But it may not be as easy as it seems, as this teacher at first experienced. By the end of her first month with the program, she was ready to give up. She missed her place at the front of the room, she wasn’t sure what her role was now, and students were not improving their math skills. I wish she had had someone in her building or district who could have coached her through this (as we see in the above stories). But, luckily, she did reach out to a Khan Academy mentor, who helped her to look at her student data from the program the night before the next class, so she could see in advance who was struggling and she could plan to meet with certain groups of students to intervene. Her relief to understand the benefits of the program better was evident, and her class began to soar. Some students were even accessing Khan Academy when it wasn’t assigned, just to do some extra work on their own!

The amount of honest reflection, the help from a mentor, the willingness to try something new, the ability to grow as a professional: these are the qualities that most impressed me about the teachers in TEACH and the qualities that most impress me about all good teachers. I’m thrilled to be working as an instructional coach because it gives me the opportunity to help teachers do the hard work of the reflective practitioner.

The Duckworth Chronicles

     This week I attended a conference at which the main presenter was Eleanor Duckworth, Harvard presenter, Piaget expert, and leader in examining how people learn. So, you can see why I had to use her name in my blog title this week. I mean, how does one become so fortunate to not only have worked closely with Jean Piaget himself, but to also have the surname Duckworth? Some folks have all the luck.

     The focus of the conference was on creative and critical thinking, and Ms. Duckworth (man, that name just keeps getting better and better!) encouraged we conference attendees to build in time on learning that promoted such thinking. 

     Her ideas are based on Piaget's insistence on self-regulation. There needs to be time and encouragement to allow our minds to think, "Why do I believe this?" The key to effective learning and to fostering critical thinking is that the individual must do this for him or herself -- not accepting information just because someone told them this is what they should believe. Duckworth asserts that not being told anything (i.e., the "answer") is what gets people interested. 

     The lesson for we teachers is to police ourselves to "get out of the way" of our students' learning. We must, as Professor Duckworth (oh, she's just been elevated to Harry Potter character status!) claims, put our learners in the position of researcher, in any content area and at any age, so that they are engaged with the materials of the topic itself, not just with the teacher. 

     I'll share some examples of all of this in action. Duckworth showed us an intriguing video from her days as an educational researcher in the classroom. The video featured two upper-elementary boys working with manipulatives on a math problem. They were given a rectangular block and were told it represented a candy bar, but that the candy bar company wanted to change the shape of the product without taking away the amount of chocolate. The boys were each given 4 small block squares they could use to determine the size of this rectangular block in order to deduce how to reshape it. Well, the boys went back and forth and back and forth, and finally came up with two different solutions to determining the size (volume, surface area, etc.) of the rectangular block. They also came up with two different answers regarding the block's size. They were then asked to explain their processes to one another, which they did, prompting another opportunity to grapple with which had been the correct method, leading to the correct answer. At no point did a teacher step in to announce who was right and who was wrong. 

     Now, you may be shuddering at the thought of this, as were many of the teachers present at the conference. We teachers often want to "jump in" to ensure that the correct answer is reached. Duckworth remained pretty insistent that it's okay to leave students with some healthy confusion, stating that once we tell them the answer is when the thinking stops. While this is a valid and, in my opinion, pretty fascinating concept, many of us are looking for more of a balancing act in our classrooms, at least as a starting point. 

     For example, although the boys were not using the terms "volume" and "surface area," it was clear this is what they were discussing. Many of us would have begun this lesson by supplying the students with these terms. But, in thinking about critical thinking and exploration, letting the students play around with the terms they are using first in the interest of building their organic experience with the concepts may be a better decision. Later, when this experience is solidified for them, the teacher can point out that there are terms for what they were discussing, and then teach them the vocabulary. Duckworth asserts, and I find myself agreeing, that only then will those terms have some true meaning for these students because they can attach the terms to an experience they have had. 

     A second video shown to us involved a class of first grade students reading a poem together. Once they had read it, the teacher simply asked them, "What do you notice?" Answers abounded, as, one by one, the first graders pointed out lines that rhymed, the rhythm and sound of certain lines, the use of colons by the poet, and repetition of certain lines and phrases. They even got into poetic structure, noticing that the beginning of each line of the poem started with a capital letter, even though there may not have been a period prior to this. Not once did the teacher jump in to clarify their "noticings:" she did not teach the term "colon," allowing the students to refer to it as "those two dots;" she did not introduce the term "rhythm" or discuss the "rules" of poetry regarding punctuation and capital letters. 

     Again, I watched as many teachers squirmed in their seats, asking, "When is she going to give them the answer?" And I guess what it comes down to is this: How do we work towards more of a balance in our classrooms so that there are times when "the answer" is less important than the opportunity to engage in some critical thinking and exploration? And, as a sub-question, how do we build up the resiliency in our students to be able to struggle through a problem without giving up?

     I think some of the answers lie in being sure that we take into consideration our students' zones of proximal development, challenging them "just enough" with a problem to explore without making it so challenging that they give up. Also, we need to build in more and more opportunities like those above for our students to critically explore a topic on their own. Imagine the critical thinking our students could experience once we build this habit with the proper scaffolding!

     

     Still intrigued?? 

     Check out this video of Eleanor Duckworth's speech -- Confusion, Play, & Postponing

     Certainty:

     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6YE02B_IiU

     Or the website she founded: 

     criticalexplorers.org

     Also, you MUST check out the following two videos featuring Sir Ken Robinson if you've
     never seen his work --
     Changing Paradigms:
     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U

     And . . . On Creativity:
     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSIkQwS-kcs

My Academic Crush on Lucy Calkins

     Ok. I have a confession to make. Despite the fact that I am engaged to a wonderful man, a true partner through and through, I've fallen for someone else. I really didn't see it coming, but, earlier this week, I picked up a series of books by Lucy Calkins on writer's workshops in the primary grades, and, well, it was love at first sight.
     Ms. Calkins, or, if I may be so bold, Lucy (as she refers to herself throughout the texts) is a master. And while I could go on and on (and on and on) about my newfound love for her, I'll just share one major thing that made my heart go pitter patter.
     She calls her students writers. Her kindergarten and first grade students. When it's time for them to come to the rug for the workshop's mini-lesson, she invites them: "Writers, let's gather." When she needs to interrupt their work to offer a suggestion to the whole class, she asks for her writers' attention.
     Seem small? Seem like no big deal? Maybe at very first glance, but think about the message she is sending to these students. She is empowering them through her use of this one word, allowing them each to own the role of writer. It is one simple, consistent way to demonstrate her belief in her students. I think it's beautiful. And it is something each and every one of us educators can do.
     Yes, Calkins's book is geared towards K-1 classrooms, but why should the above-mentioned message need to change as students get older? Can't they always be called writers by their teachers in 5th grade, 7th grade, in 12th? Can't we also start calling our students artists, mathematicians, musicians, scientists, historians, sociologists.....? I say -- why not? Perhaps some would argue with me (and, shudder to think, with Lucy!). Maybe some would say, "But a 4th grader is not a mathematician. And my 10th grader who is struggling with algebra is certainly not a mathematician." My counterargument is that they are studying these fields and doing work in these fields every day, regardless of their stumbling blocks. Now, I'm not talking about building up a false sense of ability or achievement or confidence so much so that our young mathematicians and artists and historians don't realize that there's still room for improvement. I'm just suggesting that we consider taking a page out of Lucy Calkins's brilliant book and see what it's like to empower and recognize our students and the work they are doing, wherever they're at with it. What better way to motivate them to rise to the occasion?