Category: Adolescence

  • Bulwarks and Blessings

    Yesterday was Pickle’s last day of school as a kindergartener.

    The night before, I was folding laundry after the kids were asleep, and I heard her burst into tears. I found her sitting up in her big-kid bed weeping.

    Me: Pickle, whatbs wrong?
    Pickle: *sniff* I donbt want to leave my class! I love my teacher so much!

    I am nearly finished BrenC) Brownbs book on empathy, shame, leadership, and vulnerability, so I know the best move here is to just give Pickle a hug and sit with her in her sadness. She cried on my shoulder for 15 minutes, then I suggested, bDo you want to write your teacher a letter or draw her a picture?”

    She did, and it was adorable. Rainbows and holding hands and the words, bI love you soooooo much!!!” written in crayon.


    I really hope Pickle loves school this much for the rest of her career. Thatbs what I want for every child, for them to love school and be sad when itbs over.

    To that end, I gave every effort to end the school year sensitive, caring, and warm, since I know those feelings will be carried by my students the entire summer.

    There are two things I do at the end of every school year, both of which are easily replicated by you to finish strong this year.

    1. Teacher report card

    I blog about this quite a bit, so Ibll be brief: this is a great way to get honest feedback from your students about how your class feels to your students. You’ll likely get some feedback to make some tweaks as you dwell and dream during the student-free time.

    At the same time, you will get some warm fuzzies to carry you out the door and affirm that you did something right this year.

    If you’d like your own link, click here for teachers, click here for coaches, and click here for admin.

    2. End-of-the-year blessing

    I support the separation of church and state, and still I recognize the power of ceremony in public school.

    Graduation, promotion, signing day, and a field trip to the local theme park are all rights of passage to signal something important.

    In old-school Christianity, we called this a bulwark or a Ebenezer.

    In Education, we call this a benchmark.

    In either case, itbs important for students to feel a moment.

    To that end, I try and end the year with my own benchmark/Ebenezer, by giving my students a blessing on their way out the door.

    image: On The Line Ministries

    Note: This can be super creepy have done poorly. Proceed at your own risk.

    Herebs how I did it the last time I had a class:

    bIn some cultures, when people are leaving to do new things, they are given a blessing or a commission or some encouragement…

    Some cultures place hands on the shoulders of the person whobs leaving, but there are too many of you, so Ibll just do this…”

    I hold my hands out over them, palms down.

    bMay you be passionate problem-solvers and curious critics. May you be loyal to your friends, obedient to people in charge, friendly to strangers, and kind to those in need. May you be safe, healthy, loved, and happy, and may you become more of those things every day. May you every day become a better version of yourself.”

    Paraphrased from this blog post in 2014

    NOTE: I would definitely tweak the “obedient to people in charge” part, now that I’m more skeptical of the inequitable power systems inherent in the school system. Probably add something like, “May you be brave and confident when faced with powerful foes,” or something.

    I watched Patricia do a blessing with her class of seniors, and almost all of them bowed their head for some reason. Adolescents are often more clever than we give them credit for, and many can sense when something is important.

    Or they grew up in the church and can sense something sacred.


    However you end the year, keep in mind one thing:

    Our students will carry with themball summerbhow they feel about our classes, so make sure you suck it up and end with something positive.

    ~Matt Vaudrey

    P.S. I’ve been sitting-in full-time as the Assistant Principal at one of my middle schools. Ibve been lingering and shadowing and learning and supporting at the site for a while now, and now that Nadia had her baby, I’ll be taking over her desk until she returns.

    More to come.

  • Teaching is Mistakes

    One of my favorite teachers is Alicia Saldana. She teaches some of the most needy students in the school and requestsB to have them every year. She sometimes shares brain-dumps with me, and it’s my privilege to learn from her.
    This is what she sent me recently.


     

    Today, I let my best self be overshadowed by my lack-of-patience self. My self that has been state testing for 3 weeks and has a 4-month-old that decided during this, the most stressful and exhausting time of year, to sleep only 2 hours at a time. My self that is human (and totally imperfect) snapped at a kid when he tried to explain to me why he was bullying another student.

    Now snapping isn’t something I normally do, ever, but it was a perfect storm. It went something like this.

    bHaha! You got [student] in your group!b

    bExcuse me, this is a safe space. We don’t talk like that.b

    bMrs. Saldana, I said it because –b

    bThere is no excuse!b I interrupted. bYou can’t talk that way.b

    His head hung. He walked back to his seat and refused to work.

    Luckily for me, I work with a special education teacher who told me, bYou gotta let him tell you.b

    She was right. This wasn’t any kid making an excuse for bad behavior. It was a student who lives in a group home who rarely gets heard out and needs love, not a teacher snapping at him. In fact, his circumstances don’t matter. Any kid trying to explain behavior is an opportunity for me as a teacher to teach, not snap.

    Yes, he was wrong. Yes, he was being a bully. But there was no excuse for me not to hear him out.

    I approached him, knelt down at his desk, and apologized.

    bI’m sorry I snapped at you. I absolutely shouldn’t have done that.b

    No answer.

    bI want to know why you said what you said.b

    No answer. I waited. I wasn’t going to get frustrated. We were both going to learn from our mistakes.

    bI just said it because [other student] was saying that he wasn’t doing any work and she didn’t want to be in his group.b

    bBut was what you said helping or hurting?b I asked.

    bHurting,b he answered with finality.

    bAnd what should you have done instead?b

    bIgnored her.b

    bIt’s okay. We all make mistakes. We can both try harder tomorrow. I am really sorry I snapped at you. Webre okay?b

    bWebre okay.b He said

    I held out my pinky finger for him to promise that we were okay. We both walked away better people.

    Teaching is mistakes. It’s learning. The best way to teach kids that we can learn from our mistakes is to model that behavior.

    Yes. State testing has got me down. Yes. I’ve had a rough end to the year. No, this won’t be the last time I have to apologize to a student. It won’t be the last time I snap.

    But every time I do, I hope I’m always a brave enough, strong enough teacher to apologize and learn.

    ~Alicia Saldana

     

  • Channel Your Inner Jeremiah

    Today was day 1 of CUE Rockstar Math, where 120 of my fellow nerds descended on Dana Middle School in Arcadia to discuss math education with me and some Twitter friends.

     

    Thankfully, CUE starts these events at 9:00, which gave me time toB rinse diarrhea crumbs off my baby (not an idiom; actual baby, actual poo) and make it there in time to give hugs and high-fives to a room full of people who are just like me: math teachers who want to become better at their job.

    Class Culture of Critical Questions

    As with all Rockstar events, I gave two 2-hour workshops on the same topic, separated by lunch. The second round ran pretty well off of my phone, because I tripped on my cord and…

    That’s not the point of this post, but it was one of the moreB eventful parts of the day.

    The workshop starts with a demo lesson, modeling the 3-Act lesson from Graham Fletcher called Krispy Kreme Me. After the lesson, we make some notes about what phrases and procedures got everyone interested in sharing.

    It was pleasant, fun, and not a great representation of an actual classroom.
    Let’s turn it up a notch.

    “In my hand are a stack of yellow cards,” I say to the room. “Half of the cards say General Ed Student, and the rest have some kind of instructional challenge for the teacher. I’m going to pass them out to each of you. Keep them to yourselves.”

    As I walked around b grinning like my daughter before Gramma comes over b I went a step further.
    “In order to make this more like a real class, I want you to channel a student that you have currently or had in the past. When you saw the card, you thought of a kid. Be that kid during this next lesson.”

    Invariably, teachers begin to tilt their heads, smirk, and ask, “Really? You want Jeremiah in this room?”

    And I grin right back and say, “Yep! Let’s go!”

    Then a room full of adults get to make silly jokes about cheese, ask to go to the bathroom, bring up YouTube videos on their devices.

    They also hesitate with big words they don’t know (EL Student), get distracted easily (Quick Finisher), or cry out, “I can’t see!” (Vision Disability). It’s one of my favorite things to do; flex my teaching muscles and be vulnerable.

    BecauseB afterB that…


    We make a list of culture-building stuff they saw me do with the “real class” and things they would add, subtract, or change.

    It’s powerful to hear a grown adult say, “I was the English Learner and you went way too fast for me.”

    “That sounds awful.”

    Yeah. Before the “channel your inner Jeremiah” part of the workshop, I’m honest with everybody: “This might go horribly wrong, but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

    It’s my hope that, even if overzealous or skeptical teachers channel Jeremiah on a no-meds, skipped-breakfast, mom-yelled-at-me-on-the-drive-to-school day, all of the attendees still get to see the teacherB take a risk and be vulnerable, maybe even look silly.

    That’s kinda the last few chapters of Classroom Chef.

    I want y’all to see me reach for something ambitious, even if I fall on my face afterward (which happened in Salinas).

    Resources

    If you want to take a bold risk with your staff, click here to get your own copy of my yellow cards, which I printed twice and laminated, so I have 40 cards.*

    The quick lesson that we did together was Day 28 from Estimation 180.

    Also, special thanks to Josie forB really going for the gusto. I’m almost sorry I sent you out of class on an “errand.”

    ~Matt “Josie, can you take these Post-Its next door?” Vaudrey

    *Dang, that means we had 36 people channeling Jeremiah today. Cool.

  • Classroom Management

    After Fawn’s recent post about Jerks and some of the earnest frustration and heartache coming from the Classroom Chef book club on Voxer, I had a chat today with one of our administrators about some struggling teachers.

    These teachers have unruly classes that don’t cover the required content and regularly send students to the office for discipline issues.B Obviously, I won’t name those teachers or give any hints, but my chat with the Admin was meaningful, so I present portions of it here for your feedback.


     

    “If I had to boil it down to one thing,” Admin leaned back in her chair, “it’d be Classroom Management.”

    Having been in these teachers’ classes before, I cocked my head sideways and said, “Yeah… but that deficit looks different in each of these classrooms. I think–generally–effectively managed classes have three things.”

    High Expectations

    “Kids are smart,” I explain. Admin nods from her seat. “Kids will figure out exactly what the teachers expect them to do, and will rise (or fall) to meet the bar we set.”

    Admin exhales slowly, “Yeah, I’ve seen a few who truly don’t think their students can learn. It’s a real bummer.”

    Teachers who struggle with high expectations might say:

    “Ugh. It’s one of those years. I’ve got someB low kids this year.”
    “I don’t know what those <one year below> teachers are doing; these kids don’t knowB anything. They’reB so unprepared for <this grade>.”



    High Expectations
    is first on my list; it’s theB entire reason we are teachers. Why on Earth would you sign up to help students expand their minds if theirB instructor believes they can’t?

    That sounds exhausting.

    Conversely, the best classes I’ve seen have teachers who are excited and energized by students’ ignorance. Huzzah!B these teachers cry,B I’ve found another place I can help my students!

    A class where the teacher expects miracles will likely garner a few.
    A class where the teacher expects “little monsters” will have dozens.

    Respect for Students

    “Why do you say it like that?” Admin asks me.

    “I taught in low-income, gang-affiliated neighborhoods and those students taught me quite a bit about authority and respect,” I said, closing her door. B “A common mantra among students was, ‘You gottaB give respect to get it.’ It was often just an excuse to be little turds to the teachers who treated them like… well… like little turds.”

    Admin laughed, “We have a few kids like that.”

    “But that same kid then comes to my class, puts forth effort, and speaks to me with eye contact in full sentences.” I paused, thinking about Eddie, who had his Mexican hometown tattooed on the back of his neck.

    I smiled, “And he only rarely asked stuff like, ‘Where the fuck is the Y= key on this thing?’ ”

    TI-83+

    Teachers who struggle with student respect might say:

    “*sigh* Well, I kicked Fernando out again. He’s just soB defiant.”
    “I had a parent conference for Erika from 3rd period on Tuesday. Surprise, surprise; her mom’s a hoochie, too.”


    Effective Use of Instructional Time

    “Omigod, yes,” Admin nodded fiercely. “There is so much wasted time in these classes.”

    “This is the big one,” I agreed. “A class where students go from task to task, bell to bell, is least likely to have those issues we talked about earlier. That doesn’t mean they’re wasting time doing boring work, the ‘effective use’ has to be based on high expectations and delivered with respect.”

    Admin leaned forward and pointed at my paper, where I’d sketched our conversation. “And all three of these go hand in hand. A really strong set of high expectations won’t be enough if there isn’t respect and good use of time.”

    I nodded, “Yep. Even a medium amount of all three is better than a bunch of one and none of the other two.

    Teachers who struggle with effective use of instructional time might say:

    “It’s so hard to get them motivated.”
    “Frank calls out, ‘Boring!’ right in the middle of class. What a little shit!”
    “They’re just so disrespectful.”


    Light to Drive Out Darkness

    Classroom Management is my favorite example of the duality of discipline; focus on decreasing negative behaviors doesn’t work. Focusing on increasing positive behaviors drives out the negative behaviors.

    12058866295_80d2eae7c8_o

    It’s easy to find stuff to hate when visiting classrooms or describing particular students. The challenge is finding what my psychologist sister calls the “positive opposite” and focusing on that, instead.

    When my 3-year-old daughter hits her brother, instead of saying, “Don’t hit!” we say “Use nice touches.”

    This morning’s podcast from Cult of Pedagogy had an excellent list of 10 Ways to Sabotage your Classroom Management, and #6 hints heavily at the focus above. It’s a clever twist that I’ve come to expect from Jennifer Gonzalez, the author.

    SabotageFullPin
    Click the image for a link.

    Your feedback is–as always–welcome.

    ~Matt “The Y= key is next to the WINDOW key, and watch your language, please.” Vaudrey

    P.S. Unfortunately, all of those quotes are from real teachers. Thankfully, I haven’t heard them in years, and thankfully, my professional circles now include several times as many awesome teachers as miserable ones.

    UPDATE 9 JUNE 2016: David Butler shares the new-teacher perspective on those three items, with some honest frustration and helplessness.

    These are all great points, but I think there are some (possibly a whole group of) teachers who they miss. When I was a teacher, I really really struggled with classroom management and Ibd say my big three issues were (based on your list):

    High Expectations of Myself
    Looking back, I did not have high expectations of my own ability to help all the students learn, or to help them manage their behaviour when they needed help to do so. It quickly became a vicious circle as the less success I had with classroom management I had, the less I expected myself to be able to do it.

    Respect for Myself
    I didnbt give myself the permission to change the classroom environment for my own teaching purposes. I didnbt respect myself enough to ask the students to stop or do other activities. I didnbt trust that the things I was choosing to do were necessarily the right things to do. When I did feel passionate about something that didnbt match with other teachersb way of doing things, I didnbt have the confidence to do it anyway. I didnbt respect myself enough to ask for help from other teachers or my superiors (partly because in my first school I learned no-one was willing to give me help). Without this respect for my own place in the classroom, how could the students respect me?

    Skills to make effective use of time
    I didnbt have a good feel for how much time an activity might take or how engaged students might be with it. I didnbt have a big enough repertoire of different activities to fall back on if my first choice fell through. And I didnbt have a list of routines I could fall into to help me and the students know what to do next. Often I felt over pressured to make my own resources rather than find out what existing resources were there or ask others to use theirs. (It didnbt help that at my first school I was explicitly told there were no resources and that I did have to make them myself.)

    If someone had told me to have higher expectations of my students, respect them and make more effective use of instructional time, I would have thought internally, bYes but how? I have to be in there tomorrow and I donbt know how.b What I needed was guidance in the day-to-day and a friend to help me learn, which for some teachers in some schools is not the easiest thing to find.

  • The Givachit Scale

    Yesterday, John Stevens and I have a workshop for the lovely math teachers of Madera County. It was fantastic.

    John walks a crew through Barbie Zipline.
    John walks a crew through Barbie Zipline.

    Barbie Zipline

    "Which one is more Mullety?
    “Which one is more Mullety?

    The drive up and down gave us plenty of time in the car to listen to Jimmy Fallon skits and female-fronted rockB bands, but also time to discuss our new roles as EdTech Coaches in our respective districts.

    Our conversation landed on:

    Policing Student Behavior

    We knew of coaches (and other adults on school campus) that tend to bark at students for wrong-doing. When we were children, the “it takes a village” mindset was pervasive;

    …kids didn’t misbehave around adults quite as much. There was a good chance they’d tell your parents or just take care of discipline themselves.

    In the last couple decades, many parents have been empowered to give their kids whatever the hell they want and to bark atB other adults for offering co-parenting when they’re unavailable.

    Comedian Chris Titus has a lot to say on the parenting shift of the last 30 years, but this part stands out to me:

    I never misbehaved in my neighborhood, even though my dad worked a lot. You know why? Because I had neighbors. And if my dad wasn’t around to beat my ass… someone would pinch-hit for him.

    As Coaches, we often go into classes to support teachers.

    Teachers who need support have disproportionately… rowdy classes.

    Today, I watched a 3rd-grade boy slap a girl on the thigh when she wasn’t looking, she squealed and hit him in the arm. No harm done.

    At the high-school level, a colleague of mine watched a boy make disparaging remarks about a girlB all period, until the girlB stood, clocked him in the face, and screamed, “Fuck you!”

    The Givachit Scale

    Here’s why I wouldn’t take those students to the office if I were standing in the back of the room.

    Students have a bunch of adults in their lives. The graph below (which, like all my material, is copiouslyB researched and not at all made up on the spot) describes the Givachit value for each group.

    Givachit Scale

    During my teaching career, many more students “Givachit” what their siblings think of their behavior than their pastor. Teachers will have the highest return by contacting those members of the student’s social circle with the largest slice. I’ve told Grandma about a student’s behavior and gotten much more mileage than with Mom.

    Notice how tiny the slice is for District Stooge? That’s why I don’t intervene with students. Because the exchange will likely go like this:

    Vaudrey (tough teacherB voice): Watch your mouth.
    Unruly Youth: Who the hell are you?
    Vaudrey: I’m a teacher on special assignment to coach other teachers on effective integration of technology into the classroom. Watch your mouth.
    Unruly Youth: What if I don’t?
    Vaudrey: Then we go to the office and you get written up for defiance. What’s your name?
    Unruly Youth: Barack Obama
    Vaudrey: Okay, that’s it. Let’s go to the office
    Unruly Youth: [continues sipping sugary drink]
    Vaudrey: Okay… I’m gonna go find a security officer to escort you. Don’t move.

    My family is not one to gamble, but I’d wager over half my interactions would end similarly. Odds are pretty high that the student who will curse in front of a stranger in a tie isn’t afraid of the consequences.

    Also, it’s not worth my time to correct a strange teenager, considering the reciprocal scale guidingB my actions:

    Worth My Time Matrix

     

    ~Matt “Go ahead and chew gum in class” Vaudrey

     

  • Samantha

    Samantha (not Sam; do not call her Sam) joined our 5th/6th period a couple weeks into the school year.

    Fifth period was math, sixth period was bInterventionb: a full hour where students with learning challenges had iPads, me, and no curriculum.

    It was an absolute dream.

    I was quite pleased that my principal trusted me enough to give me a full period to do whatever the hell I wanted to help students learn. Had I known it was my last year in the classroom… I probably would’ve done the same stuff.

    Some days, webd edit photos for our 20% Projects.

    Some days, webd finish up a math activity from 5th period.

    Some days, webd stare at Donte, then estimate how many Donte will fit across the width of the classroom.

    A la Oliver Smoot.
    A la Oliver Smoot.

    Samantha didnbt quite know what to do with my class. It became immediately clear that shebd gotten here (an 8th grader with low basic skills stuck into a double-math period) by using the tried-and-true phrase of the struggling student:

    bI donbt know.b

    Or "IDK" to the middle-school teacher.
    IDK.

    In Teacher Chemistry, IDK + Teacher Redirection = Student Excused.

    Without the reagent of Teacher Redirection, the formula falls apart.

    In Vaudreybs class, bI donbt knowb doesnbt excuse you from responding:

    Vaudrey: Where did this 3x come from? Samantha?
    Samantha: I donbt know.
    Vaudrey: Ibll come back to you. Victor?
    Victor: Ummb& we subtracted 7x and 4x?
    Vaudrey: Lorraine?
    Lorraine: We subtracted 7x and 4x.
    Vaudrey: Samantha?
    Samantha: … um b& we subtractedb& 7x and 4x.

    I wasnbt surprised to note that she didnbt actually look at the board until she responded.

    A few days later, the bDiscuss with your tableb song was playing, and I swung by Samanthabs desk, knelt down, and whispered,

    bIbm going to call on you, and you say, bparallelb, got it?b
    Her eyebrows shot up and she pleaded, bNo!b
    I gave a comforting smile, bThatbs it. Just say, bparallelb. You can do it.b

    The song ended and 28 students returned their focus toward the screen at the front.

    bBefore we talk about slope, Samantha. Are these lines perpendicular or parallel?b

    All 28 students turned toward the new girl. She stared blankly at the board. Come on, Samantha. You gotB this, I thought, my marker in the air. Like my instructions, the marker did not waver, but pointedB straight at her.

    Samantha took a breath.

    bParallel,b she said.

    No question, no raised tone at the end. She was confident. Those two lines are parallel.

    I smiled. bGood. Now if these two lines are parallel, then that tells us something about their slope, and I heard some groups talking about it. Ramiro, tell us what your group noticed.b

    After a few dozen of those discussions, Samantha began to blossomB into a confident young mathematician. She persevered, she took risks, B she responded well to the guidance of her classmates to fine-tune her ideas, andB she volunteered answers that were way off (a sure sign of trust).

    She also gave a fantastic 20% time projectB and even came to me early on to ask about changing her group. bI donbt think [other student] willB work as hard as me. Shebll just slow me down.b

    Alright, Samantha. You can work alone.

    ~Matt “Small Successes” Vaudrey

  • Sure Feels Like Quitting

    Wednesday – Last Day in the Classroom

    All four periods requested to throw a going-away party. I can take that as a sweet sentiment after I’ve made a difference in their lives all year…or a bunch of middle-schoolers lunging at any opportunity to have soda in class.

    It’s probably about 30-70.

    We packed up my personal effects, snacked on Hot Cheetos for 50 minutes, cleaned up for 3 minutes, then I told them this:

    “In cultures, when people are leaving to do new things, usually they are given a blessing or a commission. As my 8th graders promote to high school, usually I give a blessing, but I am leaving early, so we’re doing it today.B Some cultures place hands on the shoulders of the person who’s leaving, but there are too many of you, so I’ll just do this:”

    I hold my hands out over them, palms down.

    “May you be passionate problem-solvers and curious critics. May you be loyal to your friends, obedient to people in charge, friendly to strangers, and kind to those in need. May you be safe, healthy, loved, and happy, and may you becomeB more of those every day. May you every day become a better version of yourself. You have 54 days left of 8th grade. Make them count.”

    Bell rings. Out they go. I turn in my keys and leave.

    Tuesday – Two Days Left in the Classroom

    Vaudrey: You know how sometimes I’m silly and tell jokes? This isn’t one of those times. What I’m about to tell you isn’t a joke.

    Nathan: Are you dying?
    Jane: Are we in trouble?
    Angel: He’s totally dying.
    Diane: Just shut up and listen to him!

    Vaudrey: You will have a sub on Thursday and Friday; you already knew that. And when you come back from Spring Break, you will have a different math teacher. Tomorrow B is my last day here with you.

    Class: What? Why?

    Vaudrey: Those meetings I had at the District were job interviews. I’m going to be a Teacher Coach. I’ll take ideas from what our class does and go show other classes how to do it.

    Noah: Wow. This sucks.
    Diana: No! You’re the reason I get excited about learning!
    Marie starts crying.
    Ashley:B Can I have your Justin Bieber Picture?
    Alex: Can I have your Mr. Vaudrey sign?
    Asia: You should give us something because we’re your favorite class.
    Andy: Do you get paid more money?
    Laura: What kind of cake do you like?
    Mando: Does your wife know about this?
    Vaudrey: Yeah, she’s okay with it.
    Victor: Of courseB sheB is;B she’sB not getting herB heartB broken!
    Vaudrey: Please keep it quiet until the end of the day, so I can tell each class personally. I want them to hear it from me.
    Linda: [Red-faced and tears in her eyes] What if I can’t learn from the new teacher?

    Monday – Three Days Left in the Classroom

    “Did you get the joab?” Asked Ms. Zipper–my RSP Aide for 5th period–her distinct Brooklyn accent apparent in her enthusiasm.

    “Yeah, I did.” I gave a pained grin. “It’s bittersweet; I don’t want to leave my students mid-year.”

    “Oh!” She stammered. “When do you start?”

    “The Monday after break. My last day is Wednesday.”

    “This Wednesday?” Asked Zipper, her eyebrows raising and head tilting in a distinct New England mannerism. “Yoah kids are gonna lose it.”

    Friday – Four Days Left in the Classroom

    My phone rings as I’m grading our benchmarks in the teacher’s lounge. It’s Bobbi from district H.R.,B offering me a position as Professional Development Specialist. She says I start Monday, April 7th.

    April 7th is the first day back from our 2-week Spring Break, which starts Friday.
    Plus the CUE Conference is this Thursday-Saturday.

    I gulped, realizing that I had three more days with my students to tell them, pack up my class, and leave.

    Well… shoot.

    ~Matt “Change Hurts” Vaudrey

    *That was the humblest way I could explain what a Professional Development Specialist does, without making it sound like I’m ditching them.

  • Teens and the Supernatural (not the show)

    First year of teaching: Survival. Don’t die.
    Middle years: Improve. Make a few dozen memorable lessons that you enjoy teaching.
    Curriculum Adoption Year: Survive. Attempt to cram your memorable lessons into foreign molds, like Michelangelo building a swan from the tin foil wrapped around Mexican leftovers.

    Sometimes, though, it works okay.

    Given all the recent discussion on real-world vs. fake-world in math education, it’s tempting for teachers in the middle years (this author included) to try any means necessary to create engagement out of half a steak burrito.

    Let’s try saying that another way:

    8th Grade Standard 8.F.2:

    Compare properties of two functions, each represented in a different way (algebraically, graphically, numerically in tables, or by verbal descriptions).

    Okay. Those examples could go horribly or great.

    Interesting?
    Interesting?

     

    screenshot1
    Interesting?

     

    Middle and high school are where the social development of students flexes dramatically from day to day.

    Can I wear this? What happens if I wear this? How much makeup is too much? What will my friends think if I date this person? B Does this matter? Who should I talk to?B Where do I fit in?

    Michael Pershan absolutely nails something about students that few discuss (outside of my youth pastor wife and me): adolescents still aren’t quite sure which things are real and which aren’t, which things matter and which don’t.

    What? No! You cannot drink radioactive waste to grow gills!
    What? No! You cannot drink radioactive waste to grow gills!

    Teachers, how many of your students have mentioned ghosts, superpowers, or the Illuminati this year? While it’s less than half that ask the questions like, “Mr. Vaudrey, are vampires real?”,B the entire class is silent while I answer.B I think that’s because:

    Students aren’t certain what’s real and what’s not, so grappling and applying meaning are core tenets of a successful math curriculum.

    More on that functions lesson later this week.

    ~Matt “There’s a reason Harry Potter has sold 400 million copies” Vaudrey