In addition to my two sections of 8th grade history, I also co-teach two sections of 6th grade history. We are re-working (read: writing) the 6th grade curriculum, so that’s been a lot of work this year. Today in sixth grade we started our unit on Ancient China with an exercise exploring how geography shapes cultures and communities. Basically, how is life in your community influenced by the physical features, climate, and vegetation found around you?
While writing this lesson, I struggled over how a group of 11 year olds in Brooklyn would respond when I asked them to circle which of the following physical features best describes their community: mountains, coastal plains, grasslands, hills, oceans, lakes, rivers, etc… After a few arguments over whether or not those were actually mountains we could see out of our window in Brooklyn (we finally agreed on “no”) we ended up having a great discussion about the rivers and oceans and the importance of these features shaping New York’s history. As soon as the light bulbs went on and kids made connections between ancient ports in the Roman Empire and Greece, I knew things were going to be alright.
The hilarity ensued when we looked at how “vegetation” influences our community. The first comment I received was, “but Mr. Miller, we don’t have any vegetables in Brooklyn.” Her naivety was quickly corrected by a student in back with the quip, “haven’t you ever been to the store? That’s what they sell.” Obviously, the next step was a discussion of “Joe Trader’s” and why organic vegetables are so expensive. Eventually, the class (as I expected them to do) turned it into a great discussion of how Brooklyn’s LACK of vegetation influences our culture – reliance on limited green space in parks for outdoor entertainment, street ball and basketball instead of big field sports, and reliance on expensive grocery stores and green markets for everything. It was a classic 6th grade class that teetered on total disaster from the start but ended with them “getting it.”
I’m not sure where I stand on this issue and I’m not going to get into it here – I want to focus on teaching, not on politics. That said, I think The Chalkboard’s article on the situation at the Niagara Charter School is a very important issue that should be at the front of the unionization debate:
What’s more is that after the legislature cut next year’s charter school funding at the behest of NYSUT, it is more evident than ever before that the Charter Schools Act imposes a blatant conflict of interest upon employees of charter schools. This is because it forces them in these circumstances to be members of the same union representing like positions in the district where the charter school is located. As a result, the same union represents employees in seperate organizations directly competing for students and public dollars tied to the those students, and sides with one over the other when their interests conflict in state government policymaking.
So the teachers at KIPP and other unionized charter schools are subsidizing an organization that is lobbying against them.
I’ve been watching a lot of math classes recently for tricks to implement in my class. Why math? Our school has incredibly high scores on the state math tests and students are generally obsessed with math. The book I just read, “Work Hard. Be Nice.” touches on the origins of some of the chants that can be found in a lot of charter schools, particularly in math. It’s pretty impressive watching an entire class of 5th graders “roll their numbers.” Think complicated chants about multiplication tables. For a lot of students, if they can sing something, they will know it for life.
So I’ve been trying to do more of this in history class. But there is one problem: anyone that knows me knows that I can’t write a chant that a bunch of kids in Brooklyn will find entertaining. I need to find examples and I haven’t been able to find many social studies or history related ones. Last week I introduced the Animaniacs song about the Presidents and my students haven’t stopped singing it since. We have a little bet going – the first student that can sing the whole thing without the music or a lyric sheet gets dinner for them and a friend with me at DuMont Burger. The song is pretty hilarious and for students that have trouble with time lines and order of events, it really helps. Hidden in the lyrics are references to a lot of great events – Jefferson writing the Declaration of Independence, Harrison’s 30 days in office, the Civil War, Johnson’s impeachment, the Compromise of 1877, Wilson and WWI, the Stock Market crash, etc… They are in the process of writing a verse about George W. Bush and Obama, which should be pretty hilarious.
Does anyone remember any catchy songs about history from your days in school? How about teachers – any suggestions?
This is a must read for anyone considering a mid-career switch into education. I hope most of my blog is somewhat related to the issues raised by these writers. Instead of adding more stories about how teaching is not a “fallback” career, I’ll share this personal ditty:
A year ago this month I had one of the single greatest, frightening, and exhilarating phone conversations of my entire life. I was still practicing law at a firm in Manhattan, but accepted a job teaching 8th grade history in Brooklyn. For the life of me I could not find the right time to have “the conversation” with the appropriate partners. I was trying to handle it professionally, but “they” were not making it easy on me. I continued billing away, filing briefs, handling conference calls, and generally being a very diligent (I think) associate. I am assuming the partners in question expected something was up and intentionally avoided me – it was not a smooth 8 months for either side of the relationship.
The assigning partner (the same partner who convinced me to join the firm) called me about a new case – he wanted me to handle it with him and go meet the client. I felt it was only fair to tell him my plans – “Brian, I’d be glad to help and let me know what I can do, but we should probably talk in person before.” He gave a lot of push back (and had been avoiding me) and put me on the spot. Finally I spit it out, “well, I am leaving the firm. Actually, I’m leaving the law. I took a job teaching 8th grade history in Brooklyn.” He hung up on me.
I just started Jay Mathews’ book “Work Hard. Be Nice.” about the founders of KIPP. I’m only a hundred pages into it, but I highly recommend it to anyone interested in education or teaching. Much like Rafe Esquith’s books, it genuinely makes me excited about teaching. KIPP has its critics, and I have mixed feelings after spending time in a few of their schools, but this post (and ultimately what I love about the book) is not about KIPP or charter schools – it’s about great teachers who work extremely hard.
Early on in “Work Hard,” Mathews introduces the teacher that I think is ultimately responsible for many of the techniques seen in KIPP’s classrooms and throughout my school as well. Her name is Harriett Ball. The descriptions of her classroom and classroom management skills are incredible. She actually reminds me a lot of my sister in class. I hope some day I can command as much respect in a class as she does:
One day, [Dave] Levin watched Ball approach a fourth grader who was daydreaming and hadn’t done any of his work. ”What?” she said, leaning over and putting her nose close to the child’s face. She would often switch to street talk on such occasions. ”You’re not doing the work? You got three choices.” She spoke very slowly and distinctly. ”You … can … change … rooms.” She took a breath. ”You … can … change … schools.” The next sentence she delivered in on quick breath: “But don’t nobody else want you but me.” ”Or … you … can …. change your attitude and actions…because I’m not changing.”
The child listened gravely. It was impossible to ignore Ms. Ball when she spoke to you. ”Now, which one do you want?” she asked. She adopted the tone of an impatient waitress who had other customers. ”Pick a letter, pick a letter, A, B, C…”
“I don’t want any of those, Ms. Ball.”
“You gonna pick one,” she insisted. ”This ain’t Burger King. You don’t ‘have it your way.’ Change rooms, change schools, or you change.”
The child looked bewildered. Ball repeated the three-part question in a gentler tone. The student gathered himself together and made a choice – the third option. She said she would give him another chance. She reminded him that his being assigned to Ms. Ball’s class was a fortunate chance, and his permanent place in her world had to be earned. There were always those other classes, other schools, other universes she could send him to. The child heard the love and concern in her voice. He felt better. He had lost the need, at least at that moment, to express his rage at whatever was bothering him – what his brother had said to him or what his stomach felt like or how uncertain he was of what was to become of his life.
I’m checking out for a week. Spring break is a huge perk of teaching. Thanks for all of the support (and comments) these last few weeks as I try and figure out what I’m doing on the Internets. I’ll be back sometime after April 16 with more dispatches from the classroom.
Filed under: education
I am pretty obsessed with the blog Gotham Schools. The writer, Elizabeth Green, used to cover education for the New York Sun. She is doing a great job covering all things education in New York. She broke this story a few days ago.
At today’s education committee hearing, City Council members took turns questioning Department of Education officials on the rise of charters schools. Their questions were passionate, specific, and universally accusatory. They may have also been scripted.
Just before the hearing began, a representative of the city teachers union, which describes itself as in favor of charter schools, discreetly passed out a set of index cards to Council members, each printed with a pre-written question.
I’m going to guess this is not going to help the teachers’ unions in their PR battle.
As you may imagine, I get stuck in a lot of conversations (some bad, some good, some real awkward) about how different my life is these days from my days as a lawyer. One of my stock lines is that, while my hours on a weekly basis are not all that different, come Friday night I know that no one is going to schedule a meeting Saturday morning or make me cancel my flight out of town for vacation. That’s really a terrible distinction that I will now be dropping from my rotation.
Three of my students applied to Legal Outreach, an incredible program that does amazing things for kids from very difficult backgrounds. Ultimately, the organization is making an 8 year commitment to 8th graders interested in pursuing a legal career. The decisions came down last night, and I’ve spent the first morning of my spring break trying to beat the letters home with a phone call. Each qualified for a different element of the program – one was for all girls, one was for boys in Brooklyn, and the other qualified for a program designed around at-risk boys from single family homes at NYU. One student got in, one is first on the wait list, and the other was rejected because of a two week commitment he already has this summer. I’m not going to go into detail over the nuances of the decisions, as I think a lot of the information I have was told to me in confidence. Let’s just say elements of it have kept me up a lot lately and this morning is not helping.
I’d almost rather call an angry client who just lost an case on my vacation than call an over-achieving thirteen year old to explain why they did not get accepted into a program like this.
The title of the previous post comes from a song quoted in Studs Terkel’s book “The Good War.” This is a great book that I relied on heavily for classroom materials. Like all of his works, it’s a collection of oral histories. I highly recommend both this one and “Hard Times.” The stories are incredible. There is no need to sit down and read the whole thing, but reading one or two here and there is very rewarding.
Also, I know almost nothing about graphic novels. I’ll admit that I am kind of intrigued. This weekend I read Maus by Art Spiegelman. It’s a graphic novel about the Holocaust and life in the U.S. for a survivor and his family. A lot of the 8th grade is going to be reading it next week and I wanted to get a jump on them.
I would love other suggestions of graphic novels that I could use in a history class. Any ideas?
Filed under: education
My three years of law school and seminars in undergrad erased any memory I have of terrible high school and middle school classes where a teacher just talked AT the class for 45 minutes. While I haven’t seen a ton of other classes, I’ve watched a few sample lessons (think teacher interviews) where the candidate did just that. I’ve spent most of the year trying to identify ways to teach that involve me lecturing as little as possible. As I mentioned earlier, this week we rolled out a new one that I was pretty excited about.
One of the most challenging aspects of teaching middle school is properly rolling out new learning activities. I cannot walk into class and say “today we are doing a Socratic seminar. You are going to discuss X as a class and be sure to ask each other questions. I’m going to sit back here and grade your performance. Go.” Therefore, over the last two weeks I have been teaching a skill objective along with my content objectives. So in addition to “SWBAT explain the importance of island hopping in the Pacific theater” we would also teach “SWBAT effectively ask classmates questions about their opinions.” It’s only after days of skill objectives that a class can effectively run an activity like that on their own.
And they did it. Sort of. Well mostly. We spent a day before discussing the differences between “debate” and “dialogue.” Unfortunately, the circles ended up being more of a debate than a dialogue. It was a great discussion, but students were definitely more interested in defending their opinions than exploring the issue in depth. Ultimately, that’s my fault but it gave us great material for conferencing the next day.
I had a pretty detailed rubric created for grading performance, but ultimately decided to grade based on their written reflections. In conferences most students had great takeaways. The students that talked too much, knew they did. The students that were too aggressive, knew they were. And the students that didn’t really participate, knew they didn’t. They can’t wait to do it again, but I need to back up and scaffold the next one better.
For those of you who teach, have you ever used Socratic seminars? Any tips? What about tips for rolling out new activities? Or how about activities that worked?
