Mrvaudrey

Category: Classroom Culture

  • Teacher Report Card – Ms. Taormina

    The following is a guest post from Brittany Taormina, who gave the Teacher Report Card to her students during 2021 distance learning. She tweeted me about it, and her grand risk deserves some celebration. Check it out below!

    8:10am the morning bell rings, students slowly begin making their way down the 4th grade hallway into our classroom. The routine each and every morning is the same, day after day. Students read the board and follow the instructions to get their morning going.

    Untilb&

    They walked into the room on the day they got to, bgrade the teacher,b the whispers, the murmurs were happening all around the room.
    bWe get to grade the teacher for once! Wait, what?! We get to give the teacher grades?! YES!b They were beyond excited and got right to work.

    I was shocked at how serious these fourth graders took filling out this google form. In all honesty, I wasnbt expecting them to take it very seriously, but they surprised me! The information that I was able to gather was amazing.

    I learned spots in which I need to continue to grow as a teacher, I learned that my kids donbt think I have bad breath (phew!), and I learned spots in which my kids think I am doing very well.

    One huge takeaway I had was from the written responses the students filled out. So many of them wrote about our special little activities we do that have nothing to do with the curriculum but so much to do with our classroom community.

    Which leads me to a whole another tangent.

    Classroom community is one of my biggest focuses, year after year. I want each and every student in my room to feel welcome. I received responses like, bMy teacher makes me feel like I belongb, bMy teacher makes me feel like a million bucks!b, and bMy teacher makes me feel good and ready to learn and excited to go to school and I never experienced that beforeb. These are all statements written by 4th graders; who knew they had such big feelings and such awareness of how an adult can make them feel?

    This was eye opening to me. Needless to say, my kiddos feel loved and that made my heart happy.

    Now for the growthb& we all have to continue to grow. No one is ever the bperfectb teacher. I learned that sometimes my kids feel like I donbt use clear language to explain a lesson (awesome information). I need to work on explaining things in a way that all of my learners can understand.

    Had I not taken this risk and given this teacher report card a shot, I would have never learned this about myself.

    The teacher report card was definitely a scary thing to post in my google classroom for my kids to fill out, it was completely out of my comfort zone and something I wasnbt sure if I was ready to see the results of.

    Why? I’m not sure.

    I know I do my job and I love each and everyone of my kids, but you just never know how honest and harsh a kid’s criticism might be. But I took a risk, I was brave, and the kids continued to talk about that teacher report card all day long because they felt like they had a say and a true voice in our classroom.

    This was a first for me this yearb& but definitely not a last! Thank you Mr. Vaudrey for inspiring me to be brave, take a risk, and continue to grow myself as an educator for the better of my students.

    ~Brittany

    Picture of Brittany, smiling and giving a thumbs-up
    Follow @btaorminad10 on Twitter

    If you’re interested in giving the Teacher Report Card to your class, see the tweet below!

    (Admin and Instructional Coaches, there are links for y’all there, too.)

  • First Day of Distance Learning

    When I was in college, I was a voracious and brave eater. I would boast to my friends, “Ice cream, sushi, pizza; even when they’re bad, it’s still better than no ice cream, sushi, or pizza.”

    I was 19 and narrow-minded about a lot, not just gas-station sushi.

    a plucky, 19-year-old Matt and his equally plucky 19-year-old girlfriend

    Now I’m pushing 40 and willing to spend double the money to have excellent ice cream, sushi, or pizza. The truth I’ve found in the last half of my life is this:

    The worst version of something is not better than none of it.

    The Worst Version of School

    Teammates in Bonita USD, friends on Twitter and elsewhere, and I have spent a long time prepping to teach online. I’ve sent probably dozens of tweets about relationships first and making students feel less stressed online.

    Hell, taking a brave risk was my theme at two webinars I gave this summer.

    But here’s the thing.

    We’re all thinking it.

    This… just… sucks.*

    Getting ready for the first day of school and driving to a nearly-empty campus to sit in front of a screen and teach in an empty classroom?

    That sounds like purgatory designed to torture teachers like me. A school with no kids in it? School where the relationships are minimized and everything is delivered through a Chromebook and an 11-inch screen?

    Ugh.

    My 2nd-grader has to navigate between her Zoom window and Chrome quickly enough to track with her teacher. She’s a strong reader and a great communicator. She has two parents who value education and can be present during school. She has her own device from school, a quiet place to work, and reliable internet, and she is overwhelmed and frustrated daily. Today it was, “I hate distance learning and I wanna be back in school!”

    a boy with his head in his hands, pencil and notebook on the table.

    For most of my career as a teacher, I’ve felt like master and commander of all that happens within my four walls.

    If a kid needs water or food, go to my snack drawer.
    Squirrelly and needing a break? Take these Post-its down to Ms. Allizadeh’s class.
    You’re pissed because your friend is being mean? Come eat lunch in here; you don’t have to sit with them today and maybe we try again tomorrow.

    I can’t do anything to help most of the barriers facing students while they learn remotely. If the kids in my homebwho have won privilege bingo and are well-prepared to be successfulbare struggling, how in the world can I reach the kids who don’t have all these resources?

    As the master and commander of my four walls, I’m feeling ownership and responsibility for this, the worst version of school.

    But Marian said it well:

    You did not conspire to create these conditions. None of us did. While I know that you are busy looking for the right answer to your moral dilemmas, and the right platform and right tools, none exist. And that is not your fault.

    Marian Dingle (link)

    As we begin to scramble and do the best for our kids, it’s important that we remember:

    Chinabwhere COVID-19 originatedbhas been back in school since May.
    Italybthe European nation with the highest infection rate in Marchbis back to school next month.
    The countries who are still remote-learning are broadcasting educational content via TV and radio, hosting Ed/Tech resources for free on government sites, and enforcing mask mandates in public places (source).

    As a teacher, I find myself slipping into self-blame while attempting to structure the best digital environment I can. By taking responsibility for distance learning, I’m discretely inheriting the blame for the worst version of school.

    Let’s remind ourselves:

    With leadership that recognized the COVID-19 threat early and attempted to prevent the spread, this would be very different.

    So I’m pointing my frustrating toward DC, not toward myself.

    ~Matt “making Adobe Spark graphics to control my frustration” Vaudrey

    *NOTE: This idea does not discount the hard work that teachers like John are doing to make distance learning as meaningful as possible. I can’t wait to see how y’all do when you’re allowed to fully flex your muscles back in a brick-and-mortar classroom.

  • Other Stuff I Do

    For years, I had a classroom. It was Vaudrey’s Room, even when I wasn’t in it; the space was tied to me as the main person.

    Then I had a desk that was most-often unoccupied, as I traveled my district supporting teachers in their spaces.

    Now there’s an office with my name on it. That hasn’t happened before, and it’s taking some adjusting, but I like it.

    Running parallel to that progression is my side-hustle; consulting with teachers and districts across the country, sharing resources and ideas with them.

    The space is someone else’s class, or an auditorium, gym, Multi-Purpose Room, or board room, and I’m just a visitor.

    “Visitor” is a good description for these gigs. I’m sitting on the airport floor in Bozeman, Montana, after two days of working with every teacher in the rural district of Belgrade, MT.

    Since most of my day-job (Dean of Students at Lone Hill Middle School) deals with private stuff I can’t discuss here, this post will focus on a key moment from the last couple days spent 1000 miles away.

    Julie 1

    “Will this lecture have anything for us? We teach Reading.” Julie and her teammate had unfolded a cafeteria table in the back of the room instead of sitting near to the front, where I had laid out paper and markers.

    “Maybe!” I replied, ever the optimist and looking to make an ally right away. “What brings you here?”

    “Our principal sent us. We… (she looked back and forth) … didn’t really have a choice.”

    Big smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re here! We’re focusing mostly on math activities and practices to support them, and your voice is definitely welcome. Feel free to keep to yourself here and participate if you want.”

    Julie visibly relaxed, “Oh, thank God. We really don’t like math.”

    I stood with a sneaky smile, “Not yet, but we’re just getting started.”

    Julie was quickly won over by the Estimation tasks and discussion-based prompts of Would You Rather, Fraction Talks, and Which One Doesn’t Belong? I caught her setting aside her chapter books and jotting notes and ideas down on paper. Soon, she was chatting animatedly with her seatmates and venturing to other tables.

    It probably helped that I was explicit in my prompt to, “Stand when you hear the music and share with someone you haven’t yet spoken to.”

    As they packed up to leave, she handed me a sketch. “We think there’s a place for these in our class, too.”

    Soon, the morning was over and everyone packed up to leave. As usual, there were some follow-up questions about the book and my promise of lifetime tech-support. I managed to catch Julie before she left and coach her aside from her partner.

    “Julie! Lemme talk to you for a sec.”

    She looked cautious, but joined me on the side of the cafeteria, away from the earshot of her teammates.

    “Julie, you started the day declaring that you had nothing to offer, but you were an active participant today, and your insights were very helpful.
    I think… and you may not agree… I think you have a lot to offer the math classroom.”

    She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, okay. You’ve never seen me teach.”

    I made super-strong eye contact and lowered my voice. “Julie, I don’t mean to tout my resume here, but I’ve taught this stuff all over the country. Not all teachers are as brave as you, willing to take a risk where they don’t feel comfortable.”

    Her eyes went wide. “Uh-oh. You’re recruiting me, aren’t you?” She turned and pretended to walk away.

    “Yep! There’s a lot of promise for your math class, and to prove that I believe in you, here’s a copy of my book. Well done today.” I handed her the book and she paused.

    I wonder how many people have told her that she could be a “mathy” person.

    ~Matt “Youth Pastor” Vaudrey

    *Of course that’s not her real name.

  • 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.

  • Differentiation and Risk

    Hey, Ashley!

    Thanks for sharing those links, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to get around to reading them. I’m somewhere over Phoenix on my way to Detroit, so I have some down time. And Southwest Airlines internet is just fast enough to load those pages and write this back to you.

    a cartoon person scowls at the laptop screen.
    “No, it’s fine. I’m not in a hurry.”

    I’m so glad that b even sequestered on a remote island in the Pacific b you’re able to make time to develop yourself professionally. Those two articles pair very well together and tackle a tough issue in education. No doubt, you have some strong feelings on Differentiation after your years teaching on a military base in Guam.

    Yours is theB extremeB case, where students are several grade levels behind in basic skills, but are sitting next to students who’ve attended private school and are test-hungry. Even with less than 30 kids in a class, your scenario was destined to be a challenge that only the most-experienced and most-supported teachers should tackle.

    And you’re in Guam in a department by yourself.

    A person standing on a beach by themselves
    This is how I imagine your staff meetings look.

    So… you and I have both been in departments at public schools, so I think you’ll get my meaning here: EdWeek’s first editorial bB Differentiation Doesn’t WorkB b reads like the grumpy teacher in the department who’s complaining about “these kids.” Sure, her concerns are real and her experience is valuable and it’s fine to vent sometimes, but come on. Grump, grump, grump, then no suggestions for an alternative or improvement?

    Ugh. That’s draining.

    a PASS stamp

    The response from Carol Ann Tomlinson (who I thinkB I’ve seen present at some conference somewhere or I’ve read her book or something) resonates with me far more. Even the title bB Differentiation Does, in Fact, Work b was kindly redirecting negativity toward action, which I’ve done in my department meetings about a million times.

    And here’s my favorite part:

    For many reasons, students in lower-track classes don’t achieve as well as they do in heterogeneous settings. Those classes tend to be taught by newer or less engaged teachers. The quality of curriculum and instruction is less robust than in most heterogeneous settings. The intellectual climate in tracked classes is further damped by students who know they are siloed because adults consider them to be less able than many of their peersband they respond accordingly.

     

    Yep; that’sB exactly my experience teaching GATE, General, and Concepts classes. Notably, the years where I worked hardest on including all students were the years I taught Concepts; I knew that these students wereB already grouped in what Tomlinson calls a “pedagogy of poverty,” and if I wanted to change their situation, I first had to change their attitude about math class.

    Even the images for each article are perfect:

    left image: teacher seated at a desk, behind her reads "Now Serving Number 15". Right: students at desks, but with ladders connecting them. A dark-skinned student is climbing the ladder to a higher desk. Both images by Chris Wetzel

    Ashley, you’ve read my book, so you won’t be surprised by my interest in grabbing students’ attention and attitude with interesting, low-risk stuff first, then leveling up the rigor until we’re at (or close to) grade level. AndB that can only happen if your students like you and want to please you.

    The Math Intervention teacher at one of my schools had thisB exact concern yesterday, as we met to plan my class takeover on Tuesday. “The fourth grade teachers want me to teach the standards, not just basic skills.” Thankfully, she saw what Tomlinson believes:

    Second, a related but separate body of research indicates that teachers who believe firmly in the untapped capacity of each learner, and thus set out to demonstrate to students that by working hard and working smart they can achieve impressive goals, get far better results than teachers who believe some students are smart, others are not, and little can be done to change that. It’s difficult to grow brains and help students develop growth mindsets in remedial contexts.

    Oh, baby. The phrase “teachers who believe firmly in the untapped capacity of each learner” gets me so excited. I may have to jog around Midway Airport during my layover.

    Ashley, keep it up. It’s hard, but worth it.

    ~Matt “Brain-crush on Carol Ann” Vaudrey

     

  • We’re The Same

    On a Tuesday in April last year, I meandered into Ms. V’s class, just to hang out. She called on volunteers and non-volunteers, encouraged group work, spoke in a fair, respectful tone, and was generally an excellent teacher for the entire 53 minutes.

    Later, when we discussed it, she mentioned, “Ugh. I’m sorry you had to see that; it was not a good day.”

    When I countered with, “That was better than most of my great days when I was a classroom teacher,” she dismissed my comment.

    Then this week, I asked if she’d help me talk through some education ideas. Our chat went so well that I asked if she’d be willing to present on the idea at a local conference.

    She gasped. “I’d be honored. I might cry right now.”

    In the moment, I botched my response, so here’s what I should have said:

    Ms. V, I’m so excited to share these education ideas with other people, and I know that if both of us co-create this idea, then it will be even better than me doing it alone. You’ve made passing remarks to me being a “math celebrity” or whatever, but you have just as many great ideas to share as I do, and probably more.

    My ideas aren’t more valuable than yours, just because there’s a book with my name on it. Ideas gain value when they’re affirmed by other people, and I want to amplify your ideas so they can be affirmed, shared, and valued.

    Further, the core of you and I is remarkably similar. We both value students’ whole selves and care deeply for the pre-adults in our care. We both value collaboration and sharing and get frustrated when our peers give anything less than their best. We both try to become a little bit better each day, even if it means more work.

    You and I aren’t different. We’re the same.

    My teammate John has the below tweet and this blog post to extend the idea.

    ~Matt “Unpolished” Vaudrey

    UPDATE: Thankfully, she agreed to work with me, and we’re already chewing through some ideas on making math class a more patient place for problem-solving. Stay tuned.