education


The Preamble

As I write this post, teachers by the tens of thousands are protesting the proposed end of their collective bargaining rights in Wisconsin. The tug-of-war between teachers and government is the latest opportunity for commentators and cocktail-party-goers to label teachers as greedy and selfish. I have always found that line of reasoning so astoundingly ignorant of the facts and I want to take a moment and explain why. With the historic nature of what is going in Madison, it seems the right time.

Teachers don’t make a lot of money. We all know this to be true. It’s a common cultural joke that public school teachers drive beat-up cars, bring bagged lunch, and wear old shoes. According to teacherportal.com, which uses multiple sources to aggregate its data, national teacher salaries average anywhere form $38,000-$58,000. It’s not that teachers don’t make a living wage, but no one goes into teaching for the money, it’s a simple as that.

Yet every time there is a budget crisis in this country, it seems that everyone else wishes they could live as high on the hog as they believe teachers do. You hear people scoff at a teacher making $70,000 at the end of her career. The word greedy is tossed around. A lot. But if it is true that teachers are the robber barons that much of the public believes them to be, then why isn’t every pharmacuetical salesperson, copyright editor, and PR executive running to teach?

Teachers in Chicago draw a salary on the higher end of the national average. But there is also a requirement that all city workers live in the city. A teacher who makes $55,000 and lives in Chicago can, after years of saving a down payment, own a small one or two bedroom condo. Many teachers take on second jobs: I worked with a woman who bartended three or four nights a week to buy her condo; another teacher sold beer at baseball games to afford his. Both were single, however. A small condo is not an easy place to raise a family of, say, two kids.

We want teachers to behave like professionals but get paid like replaceable labor. In Teachers Have it Easy, written in part by author Dave Eggers, he argues that teachers “seem to exist in a strange realm with regard to the status of their profession, somewhere between a union-protected workforce and a college faculty. We expect them to be brilliant and capable, and yet we treat them in a way that leaves them feeling untrusted…It’s a rare professional who can live with the seeming contradictions built into the field of public education.” Video by Jay Rehak, featuring “Peace in My Fingers” by his lovely wife, Susan Salidor

The popular line in Madison these days is that teachers need to suffer like the rest of Americans who have lost their jobs. And the teachers have accepted their share of the financial burden: they agreed to what amounts to large cuts in their total compensation packages. So what is at issue now is whether or not teachers (and many other state workers) have the right to get together and bargain for things like workplace standards, additional pay for extracurriculars, class size, and scheduling. These are not small potatoes. These elements of education are at the heart of what makes a good classroom and what makes good instruction. When teachers are treated fairly in these areas, it means students are too.

For example, if a teacher is made to move to a new classroom for every class she teaches and is not given any workspace of her own during her preparatory periods (as in one school where I taught) instruction will suffer from the logistical constraints of that situation. Or, if teachers are not paid for sponsoring clubs (as I was not, despite creating and producing an end of the year school play) student clubs will disappear, or the teachers sponsoring those clubs will simply not put in the extra effort to make them interesting and worthwhile experiences for the students. The importance of class size is well-documented, but I still taught classes of 34 students, some of whom did not have desks. And as for scheduling: Ask any teacher how many times she has planned a test only to find out that there would be a schoolwide assembly during classes that day. Or planned to have a guest speaker come to address her class, only to find out that class periods would be shorter that day.

Teacher’s issues are student’s issues.

What Teachers (still don’t) Get With Strong Unions

Who, if not a teacher, is concerned with how much access to paper and copies a class has, or how many students are in one class, or how much time a teacher has to prepare a quality lesson or unit?

Principals have financial worries, staffing worries, logistical worries. These worries often do not coincide with the worries involved with setting up a successful classroom.

For example, if a successful unit is created using Backward Design (a concept that involves starting with the final assessment and working one’s way backward, creating every quiz, project, handout, and visual aid beforehand, so that the unit is holistic and purposeful), current technology (difficult still in most schools where just scheduling time in the computer lab for one’s students can be like getting a reservation at Alinea), and is rigorous in its assessments (a good test question is comprehensive, analytical, and fair; and often really hard to come up with). The time that such a unit would take to design could be anywhere from 20-100 hours, depending on the grade, subject, and the curriculum. Multiply that by 8 or 10 units in a year for every class taught.

If a teacher is in classes all day and has only one 45-minute preparatory period (as many schools do), she is clearly writing curriculum on her nights, weekends, and summers. She does not bill for those hours, as lawyers do. She does not get overtime for those hours, as many workers do. If a teacher wants to instruct in a quality way with quality assignments, she accepts that she will work many hours without extra pay. And this is with a union’s ability to collectively bargain.

As a teacher in a large urban public school system, I had protection of the union. But, even with that protection and solidarity, I experienced outrageously poor workplace standards, bullying by administrators, and frequent unfairness. At one school, under a new administration, we were told that each teacher would be given one ream of paper per semester. One ream. The rest was up to the teacher to provide for herself.  I was an English teacher who used written instructions for projects and tests to help students learn accountability, who used supplemental materials–such as news articles and related literature–to augment understanding, and who gave lots of quizzes. In a first-world public school system, paper should be a necessity. But I (and most of my department) was not tenured, so we didn’t say a word and instead got preferred customer cards at Staples. It was an expensive year.

Another example: At the same school, I was observed by the assistant principal and was given a glowing review. Except for one thing: I had not tallied (by hand) the amount of absences and tardies in my gradebook (most teachers tally when the data is due, at grade time). This fault went in my permanent file as a lack of record-keeping. It was then made clear to non-tenured teachers, such as myself, that if we made someone mad at that school–had I asked for more paper, for instance, or demanded that the school institute a detention program, which it did not have–we would have had to fear being fired for, in my case, ostensibly not tallying tardies. When I say that my students suffered for my and other teacher’s silence at that school, I am not overstating the reality. By the end of the first semester, the principal had instituted a “closed door policy” and almost all communication was cut off for good. Many teachers left, but the students, of course, remained. And I think of them often.

What does this have to do with collective bargaining? Both of these circumstances are examples of teachers feeling distrusted and unempowered to do their best work in the classroom. And each of these circumstances took place in a strong-union public school system. Imagine if teachers were stripped of any leverage or power regarding their classroom environment and work conditions.

Oh wait. You don’t have to.

What We Get Without Strong Unions

I have a friend whose family member teaches high school Spanish in Oklahoma, where unions are weak and she (we’ll call her Sue), a union rep, has a hard time finding anyone to help her with union business. At that school, just this year, they announced that all teachers will teach six instead of the precedented five classes. They also will have to be in charge of lunch duty 6-7 weeks of the year, where they have a 10-minute lunch and then do duty for 20 minutes. This schedule was not negotiated with the teachers, and it was instituted without any additional pay. What it basically does is make teachers work harder with less time to prepare for the extra work.

A teacher in this district–now with 120-150 total students–will likely have to assign less writing and project-based assignments to her students, spend more time managing classroom behavior, and spend less time giving extra help to students outside of class. When teachers lose, students lose too.

Sue cracked $40,000 in 2003-2004. After 21 years of teaching experience and a with a masters degree. She now makes $53,600 ($62,900 including retirement and health insurance).  This is with 28 years of experience and a masters. Her district’s salary schedule is above the state minimum, and it used to be — might still be — one of the top 20 highest paying districts in Oklahoma. Sue is a single mother who raised two daughters on her own.

What we have to stop pretending is that teachers are volunteers. They are not. They are professionals, many of whom have advanced degrees. And they ought to be treated as professionals, otherwise we attract candidates that are, simply put, not professional.

There is a lot of peripheral talk in America these days about incentive pay for teachers: recruiting professionals from white collar careers to be public school teachers. But when a bilingual high school teacher with a masters can only crack $40,000 after 21 years, teaching will only ever attract saints and sinners; neither of whom guarantees our children a high quality education. It does guarantee that we can cut teacher pay when we want. And the rights of teachers, apparently: Oklahoma just passed legislation that will take away teacher’s rights to collectively bargain.

Finnish schools have been held as a model of what the US would like our education to look like. Tied for first place in the world, Finnish students often score highest in reading and science tests. But some of the conventional wisdom about what makes a top-notch school system is debunked by Finland’s reality. For instance, according to a BBC profile on Finland’s schools, “Finnish children spend the fewest number of hours in the classroom in the developed world.” And in “What Makes Finnish Kids So Smart”, the Wall Street Journal reports that “High-school students here rarely get more than a half-hour of homework a night. They have no school uniforms, no honor societies, no valedictorians, no tardy bells and no classes for the gifted. There is little standardized testing, few parents agonize over college and kids don’t start school until age 7.”  And finally, and importantly, teachers in Finland are unionized and collectively bargain.

What is a less surprising component of Finland’s successful schools, is that, according to the BBC, “Teaching is a prestigious career in Finland. Teachers are highly valued and teaching standards are high.”

American educator and lawyer Derek Bok said, “If education is expensive, try ignorance.” Expensive does not just describe monetary costs, though. What is happening in Madison is not about money. It’s not about balancing the budget in Wisconsin. And, though negotiating with teachers might sometimes mean an administrator or legislator must give up a little time, a few desires, and even some pride, ignoring them will be far more expensive in the long run because their voices, which are all too often the voices of students too, will be silenced. Which would be a shame, because they are strong, creative, and interesting voices that need to be heard:

The headmaster at my high school would read “A Christmas Carol” every year. He was an older man with a beard like Santa Claus, who was quick to smile and compliment. When we were seniors, we were given the option of attending his reading (for the fourth time) or having the period free. We all attended. It was a tradition.

My parents would read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to us every year. I still remember the droll little Santa, drawn by my favorite children’s illustrator, Gyo Fujikawa.

But this post is a holiday shout out to my very favorite Christmas story, Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory”. My colleague and friend, Joe Scotese, reads it in his English class every year, and dozens of his former students, squashed together with his current students, cram into his classroom to hear him read. This year was Joe’s last reading, which makes me sad: Joe is a gifted teacher who infuses his love of literature into everything he does. But if you’re in the mood for a little nostalgia and sentimentalism, you can read the story yourself. The full text is available here.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

7am.

This was the start of my first class at the first school I ever taught in. It was a large urban school district, and my school was so overcrowded that they had to extend the day much earlier to accommodate all of its students.

I had a first-period class of 32 students; 18 showed up with regularity. Many, because of domestic unrest,  had to travel a distance to get to school (one had to be at the bus stop at 4:30 am in order for her three bus transfers to get her to class by 7 am). Phone calls home, points deducted from participation grades, detentions–none of these improved attendance. One morning, as I made a round of calls to parents of truant students, a veteran teacher looked over the cubicle wall at me and said, “Don’t waste your breath. It won’t do a thing.”

By the time my grades were due, half the class was failing due to the fact that, well, they weren’t in the class. After submitting my progress reports, I got a form letter from the principal stating that “no more than 1/3 of the class may fail.” And, that I should “look inward at [my] teaching practices to find a way to help the students.”

At this school, my first school, I had no mentors; I had no resources; I had no help. And I cried a lot.

So, when Tony Danza broke out in tears on Teach, his new documentary which follows his first year as a teacher in an urban school system, I understood completely. Though some may have thought he was being dramatic (or just a ninny),  I understood the feeling of doing one of the most important jobs in the world, and doing it poorly. The learning curve for new teachers is so sharp that half leave the profession after three years, many citing burn-out. So, after watching Danza weep his way through his second week of teaching, I thought it might be nice to put together a Troubleshooting Manual for new teachers teaching in an urban school system without any support at all–while trying desperately to be good at what they do. Most solutions are surprisingly simple, but they work.

I wish I’d had something like this when I started out. And believe me, I googled the hell out of “New+Teaching+Tips”.

Danza’s Problem #1: Texting in Class
Solution: Bags on the Floor

They will roll their eyes (But only for the first week). They will tell you their bag is too expensive to get dirty (Then it shouldn’t be brought to school). They will even really just be covering their stomachs with it (Out of body self-consciousness or, sometimes, hiding pregnancy). But they must put their bags on the floor.

A bag on a lap conveniently hides a phone, a portable game player, or homework from a class other than yours. Eliminate the bag, eliminate the cover.

This will solve 50% of the texting problem. But Danza also runs into the pervasive text-cheat problem, too, and every teacher has varying approaches to discipline. I would offer, however, that well-established, well-vocalized, and well-enforced boundaries are the friend of every teacher. If the students know what to expect, they will not feel you are being unfair when you have to enforce the rules. And fairness is the only quality that matters, ultimately: You can be a nice, funny, or exciting teacher. But if you are not fair, the students will not respect you or the work you ask them to do.

Danza’s Problem #2: “We read but don’t remember.”
Solution: Post-its

When a student tells me he reads but can’t seem to remember (this usually comes up on a quiz day), I always ask him, “But did you read?” Because if I walked on the treadmill at the slowest pace possible while eating a hotdog, I didn’t work out. I did “do the treadmill”, if anyone asks, but I did not actually exercise. Same goes for reading. Looking at the words and turning the pages is called glancing. Reading means thinking.


www.luiscaldasdeoliveira.com

However, students generally cannot mark their school-issued books, so it is difficult to ask them to annotate, which is the only way to make and remember connections…Unless they have Post-its! A wonderful mentor shared this tip with me early in my teaching career, and I still consider it a great gift. The small ones (1.5 x 2 inch) work the best because they clutter the page less. I make these Post-its a mandatory supply on my syllabus and my students use them when they can’t mark the text directly.

Students who are not used to annotating will complain. But, as time goes on, they will find it immeasurably helpful. Give them a general number per page that you will expect (this number will vary depending on the density of the reading). And as they become accustom to the habit, ask them to expand their annotations beyond personal reactions and unknown vocabulary words to synthesizing plot details, evaluating character’s choices, and analyzing literary techniques. Not only will they understand what they are reading, they will understand why they are reading.

Danza’s Problem #3: Signing In on Time
Solution: Do it. Don’t forget.

It was a cringe-worthy four minutes of television when Tony Danza got eviscerated by the vice principal for not signing in on time. And most viewers probably thought it was a tad dramatic. But it was actually pretty realistic.

In every job there is an administrative duty that seems insignificant, yet is one of the most important to a person’s success in the field. Though they might feel utilitarian (even a little demeaning) punching in and out, and signing in and out on time are very, very important duties for a teacher to remember. Your record of attendance will follow you this way and your pay check will be calculated this way. But, more importantly, forgetting these important duties makes work for the main office staff. And they do not like that. And you will hear about it. And you don’t have time for that.

Oh, and while we’re at it, poor record-keeping in your class attendance can get you fired. Seriously. Daily attendance is a legal document that can, and often is, subpoenaed in cases relating to a suspect’s alibi. You as a teacher can be called to testify regarding the accuracy of your records. And more important than that (though it shouldn’t be), the school and district’s funding is often directly tied to its attendance rates. Bad records that result in less money for the school will result in some sort of disciplinary action for you. What an unremarkable way to get in trouble.

Punch in. Punch out. Sign in. Sign out.

Danza’s Problem #3: Grading Tests
Solution: Only create a test you want to grade.

When progress reports are looming and you are racing to cover the material on your syllabus it is easy to create a test that is lackluster. This can mean that the test addresses  good analytical concepts, but the questions are phrased poorly, or even that concepts not adequately covered in class make their way onto the test. The best advice given to me was to never create a test you wouldn’t want to grade.

Decide what you are using the test for. If you have already assigned a project which allows students to demonstrate higher order thinking skills, you may be using the test to simply tell whether or not they have read or studied the assigned material. A test can be useful to that end. However I would recommend trying a different tactic that was taught to me by a wonderful group of veteran English teachers: Reading quizzes.

Reading quizzes are not really pop quizzes as the students know they are coming. Often, when assessing a difficult text (The Odyssey for example) I would even allow them to use their annotations. I tell students to always be prepared for a reading quiz and I generally give them a quiz on the day a reading assignment is due. The quiz is between three and five questions. I make several versions: two versions per class period (their eyes will wander and they will talk at lunch).

I give them about a minute per question, so it doesn’t take much class time.

Joe Scotese's wonderful teaching website

They should be recall questions (but not from Cliffs Notes). Thanks to my friend and mentor Joe Scotese, I also ask them whether or not they read. Surprisingly, many students will just be honest and save you the time of having to read totally made up answers (“Odysseus was mad at the suitors because they had taken a joy ride on his boat“). By five minutes into the class period you will know who has read and who hasn’t. If you are doing group work, the students that haven’t read will have to complete the assignment on their own. If you are having a class discussion, you will not have to wonder who to call on. Best of all, reading completion levels rise with this method over time, because students know they will be held accountable.

If you quiz students on every reading, and you assign a paper or project over the course of the unit, you may not have to test them. If you have studied other concepts during the reading unit (grammar, for example) you can now simply test them on those concepts without creating a big bear of a test which will end up being a big bear to grade.Danza’s test had open ended questions that would have been better answered in an essay or a short answer test.

And my specific advice to Danza: Asking students to make hypothetical predictions about characters=Difficult, and possibly unfair, test.

Danza’s Problem #4: Cheating
Solution: Collect the evidence. Have a plan. Do not waver.

In class, a student is texting. Danza asks him to simply put away his phone. This is what you ask of a friend during dinner, not of your student. You take the phone from a student. Why?

Turns out, as Danza was reviewing a test, that student was texting the answers to a kid making up the same test in the hall. If Danza had collected the phone he could have had the evidence to confront his students. Instead he tried the Good Cop’s Do the Right Thing and Confess method, which anyone who watches enough Law & Order knows doesn’t work. You need evidence. Always take the phone.

Besides catching cheaters, it sets a good example: This is a place where you will be held accountable for your actions. The class can feel safe within those kinds of boundaries. No one will have to fear that another student is sending mean texts about her during your class, no one will have to wonder if his grade is equal to another student’s after seeing that kid text during a test, and no one will have to feel embarrassed the she is paying attention to the ins and outs of action verbs, while others are engaged in cooler activities. Have boundaries and stick to them. It levels the social and academic playing fields for your students.

Got it, Teach?

The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm

by Wallace Stevens

 The house was quiet and the world was calm.
 The reader became the book; and summer night
 Was like the conscious being of the book.
 The house was quiet and the world was calm.
 The words were spoken as if there was no book,
 Except that the reader leaned above the page,
 Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
 The scholar to whom the book is true, to whom
 The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
 The house was quiet because it had to be.
 The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
 The access of perfection to the page.
 And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
 In which there is no other meaning, itself
 Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
 Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

I love this poem. I wanted to paint it as a border along my son’s room when I was decorating his nursery, but it wouldn’t have fit in the space. It is the kind of poem that seems onomatopoeiatic: As you read you become more calm, and figuring out the sense in who is reading, and who is leaning, and what “perfection to the page” means, simply falls away by the end of the read. Who cares? It feels so good just to hear the words.

It’s nice to have a cup of tea and read a good poem, but I don’t do it very often–and I am an English teacher. What is it about poetry that we love and hate at the same time, with the same forcefulness? A poem I give to one student might make his head want to ooze. And the same poem can create calm or comfort for another student in a way she’s never had before.

And the world was calm…

There is a great non-profit called The Favorite Poem Project. They interview regular people (and famous people) about a poem that has meant something to them. Lots of the responses are surprising. And, though one of my all-time favorite poems, “At the Fishhouses” by Elizabeth Bishop, is featured by a professor of law, my favorite video is of  a retired anthropologist in his eighties who describes the comfort Shakespeare’s Sonnet #29 gave him while patrolling the night shift in the Navy. I had to memorize #29, in an acting class in college, and its surprising optimism and honesty has always stuck with me:

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Shakespeare knew what he was talking about. Who hasn’t wished to be more hopeful and easy-going? Or looked at another person who seems to have more–more friends, a more exciting career, more talents and abilities? The narrator touches on a feeling everyone has had over centuries and centuries…I love that. It’s comforting.

And what’s more comforting is the turn in the Sonnet #29: Yet. You can’t beat that word when things are looking bad:Yet. Yet gives us hope that things can go a different way.

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
…that then I scorn to change my state with kings.

And thee’s not a bad close second as far as good words go. Haply I think on thee. And it’s so true. Right when we feel like someone else has more, more of something we desperately want, then we remember someone that we have that no one else does–our spouse, our kids–and we can say, So What. I’m happy.

There’s something so awesome about the timelessness of a poem, relatable to many people over many generations; we have such a lack of history in our culture these days. I am a Lost fan, and there is a reoccurring idea on the show that if you are traveling through time, the only chance you have at enduring the transitions is to have A Constant–a person or thing that will be there as a stabilizer through the changes. On the show, Desmond has Penny, the love of his life and his best friend. Her companionship is stabilizing for him as he travels back and forth over decades.

In such changing times, it might be nice to have a constant like a poem. A stabilizer in a very unstable world. So, I say, if you don’t like poetry, give it second chance. Think of it like Match.com: Keep looking until you’ve met the one for you. You’ll find it. And, if you do, you will always have the comfort of a companion.

Even if it’s a paper-thin one.

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