Mrvaudrey

Category: Classroom Management

  • It sure felt like getting fired

    I found this buried in my Google Drive this week. It’s a journal entry from 2008.

    Nowbeleven years laterbI love teaching and there are some teachers appreciate my commentary on stuff. As our teammates and friends are getting their March 15th letters, it may help to remember where we’ve come and how powerless it feels to be a bad teacher.

    It gets better, y’all.

    Okay, both my in-laws, my wife, and both parents said that I wasnbt technically bfiredb. I was told that my bprobationary contract wasnbt renewed for the following yearb.

    It sure felt a lot like getting fired.

    As you may have gathered from my references to my first year teaching, it was rough. On a good day, I had a little bit of control over the class, until a student wanted to do something out of the ordinary, like talk about anything unrelated to math. Then my lack of boundaries and authority skills made a 53-minute dog turd sandwich out of the class period. My class was out of control four and a half days a week and I was out of my element.

    So out of my element and out of control was I, that when called for a 7:45 meeting in February, I blissfully ignorant to its nature.

    Present with me at the meeting was Rich, the Assistant Principal and friend from church who got me the job, and Jim Mandala.

    I use his full name instead of an alias because I have nothing bad to possibly say about the man. His skills at commanding the respect and control of a room were god-like to me, a 22-year-old first-year teacher with no skills. His salt-and-pepper hair wasnbt the first thing people saw, nor was his crooked nose, likely broken in younger days (perhaps ten or twenty times).

    No, the first thing people noticed about Mr. Mandala was his chest, which was eye level for most people, including me. Standing about 6b6b, peering down a crooked nose and inclining his charcoal-colored head to boom, bCan I help you?b he cast quite an intimidating figure. With that said, he was a delightfully pleasant and competent administrator, for whom I would immediately work again.

    So, I was worried, but not threatened, to see him share the table at my meeting.

    bMatt, what do you think your strengths are in the classroom?b Jimbs tone was light as he hunched over his folded arms.  

    I was stunned. Strengths? Like, those things that good teachers have? bUh, I think that Ibm relatable. Students feel safe to share their problems with meb& for the most part.b

    bI can see that,b Jim smiled. bI also see that you have good content, you know the math, and youbre a great communicator. Other teachers have said so, as well.b I started to perk up. This meeting is going great!

    bWhat are some areas where you can grow in the classroom?b Rich asked, more uncomfortable than Ibve seen him. Rich is a delightful man who wears his heart on his sleeve. Ibm sure he makes a great husband; chicks dig honesty and openness. And it made me nervous to see him squirming in this meeting.

    bWell, obviously, my classroom management needs some work. I think Ibve learned a lot this year and Ibm ready to start fresh with next yearbs class and reallyb& really take control.b

    I reiterate, this was in February.

    bDo you think you are doing a satisfactory job this year?b Jim again, asking with total sincerity and politeness. Coming from him, this question would make most grown men soil their knickers.

    Even grown teachers, whose capacity for surprise is somewhere between EMTs and Jack-in-the-Box repairmen.

    bUhhb& no.b I stammered, looking at my shoes. bI donbt think that I am a good teacher yet.b I started to see where the meeting was going. Why Rich was so uncomfortable, why Jim made so much eye contact and spoke so softly. I was getting fired.

    bMatt, webre confident that you will someday be a great teacher, but we canbt wait for you to become one. We need somebody now who can bring our scores up for the ELD students. We will not be renewing your contract for next year.b

    bb&okay.b I was crushed.

    bThis isnbt getting fired; when you apply for jobs, you just say byour contract was not renewedb. You should write up a letter of resignation, have it on my desk by the end of the week, and webll both write up letters of recommendation for you to apply for jobs. Thank you for working so hard; itbs clear that youbre a team player and you really wanted to do well.b

    bb&thank you.b My voice was about an inch tall. I just wanted the meeting to end, but I knew a full day of work awaited me. Jim stood, shook my hand, and left.

    Rich sheepishly asked, bAre you okay?b Tears were already lining up just behind my nose, and that question called them out. bYeah, Ibll be fine.b I sniffed wetly with a smile. bIbll be fine. Ibve just never been fired before.b

    bYoubre not getting fired. Itbs just the end of a one-year contract.b I feel for him now; he got me this job, and now he had to be there while it was taken away. Rich gave me a hug and I went to work. I called Andrea during my break period and cried behind my desk.

    It sure felt like getting fired.

    In the process of prepping this post, I found this one from a few weeks after the above was written.

    If you read that one, just… remember that I like my job now. And I’m much better with kids.

    ~Matt “Not Fired” Vaudrey

  • To Airica

    To Airica Yanez of Moreno Valley USD:

    Someone asked recently about co-teaching models. I figured now was a good time to describe (publicly) the year of teaching when I grew the most, and I have you to thank for pushing me to grow as an educator.

    Maybe it was our social chemistry, maybe it was the life-stage of teaching for me as I was beginning to get comfortable with a few hundred lessons I’d taught. It was 2012, and I was leaving the GATE cluster (Gifted and Talented students who travel together, class to class) and joining the RSP cluster (students with IEPs who travel together, class to class). The Mullet Ratio was my first real jump into weird lessons that worked well, and I continued to try weird ways to get my students to understand math, to varying success. (Ugh. Like the Kool-Aid lesson for Percent Mixture problems.)

    You, Airica, did exactly what friends do; you started by just being friendly and helpful, asking how you could best support students with needs. In a school heavily populated with grumpy teachers who taught in silos, we quickly realized our camaraderie, and you began to ask me pointed questions:

    • How doB you think Myles did on that topic?
    • What would you do differently if Bayley (visual impairment) was here at school today?
    • Do you think it was helpful having me teach the second example problem?
    • What’s the point of students taking notes?

    A woman shrugs, as if to say, "Pff! I never thought about it before!"
    “Uh… I.. um…”

    I was thrilled. Prior to that school, I’d worked at a charter school in a vacuum, and any professional growth had to be home-cooked.* And suddenly, I have a fantastic meal served up, just like that? It was a delight.

    Around that time, our relationship shifted, and I became aware that you were just as qualified as me, plus you had loads of current research and best practices on pedagogy and learning. As the co-teacher in my classroom, you were (gasp) an additional teacher! What a huge benefit for those students and for me!

    We worked hard to have equal footing and equal authority. As Mrs. Jara from Fairfield, Connecticut said:

    He sees me as an equal. He doesn’t see me as a helper or a teacher’s aide. We have that healthy balance.

    And soon, you were more blunt with your assessment. “Hey, my kids got totally lost today, and you’ll need to do something differently tomorrow.”

    Leslie Knope earnestly thanking someone

    I wish, Airica, that I would have paid more attention to the research that was present online even then. You were an expert teacher; had I known I would soon be leaving the classroom to work as a coach, I would have experimented with more methods. There was a conference that I attended where someone mentioned the four methods of co-teaching. I came back super-jazzed, only to find that you’d be working on a different cluster next year and we couldn’t collaborate any more. Things went… okay, and I left the classroom in March of that year.

    I also wish we would have invited you to team planning; your knowledge on how to serve our most vulnerable population could have made the rest of the RSP cluster teachers better at our job. That was a missed opportunity on our part.

    Most of all, I wish I hadn’t used the term “your kids.”

    They were allB our kids.

    Airica, thanks for making me a better teacher.

     

    ~Matt “Vaudrey” Vaudrey

     

    *Cough… *chef analogy* cough…

  • 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.

  • Ten, Twelve, Ten

    Dear Claire,

    This year marks my 10th inB education. While the path of an educator’s career is murky and uncertain, I feel quite content with what I’ve accomplished in ten years.

    Rather than listing the recent wins (see the class Twitter feed and mine for those), I want to compare what I’ve learned in the last 12 weeks as a long-term sub in your classroom, and relate those things to my decade in public education.

    Teaching Muscles

    As you may recall, I was concerned before stepping into room 908 this year that my last 2 1/2 years as an instructional coach might haveb& witheredB my teaching muscles.

    I have vivid memories of my first year teaching, spending 45 minutes on the warm-up, yelling at students to be quiet, and marching them all outside to practice coming into the classroom quietly.

    wince2

    Those were my first few months in the weight room of education, and like actual muscles, teaching muscles take time to develop. Within about four years, I had muscles that most would consider average.

    Teaching muscles, not actual ones.

    Picture this guy, but with... nope, just like that.
    Picture this guy, but with… nope, just like that.

    Claire, stepping back into your class, I was pleased and surprised at how quickly my classroom management biceps awoke after a few years of neglect. And while I will always sacrifice “discipline” for an authentic classroom culture, I feel like I have arrived at a good balance, one where I can drive 36 freshman toward a learning goal for 54 minutes at a time.

    A Great Cloud of Witnesses

    During my first year teaching, I had to go door to door if I wanted advice. And a lot of it was garbage advice.

    "Don't smile until December."
    “Don’t smile until Christmas.”

    A decade deep into math education, technology and math and culture have all advanced to the point where I can have my thumbB on the pulse of tens of thousands of math classrooms, I can mooch lesson ideas, materials, and even common errors from other teachers’ blogs, and I can promote the sharing ofB awesome stuff, positively impacting classrooms of educators thousands of miles away.

    Claire, contrast today’s math-ed environment with 2007, me walking two buildings over to Kelli’s class, laying out my notebook paper and plan book, and asking, “So… how do I teach the distributive property?”

    My Instrument in the Orchestra

    Seventh graders, seniors, and most math classes in-between have passed through my door in the last 10 years. I’ve deconstructed hundreds of math content standards, and even built a pacing guide from scratch. A decade of public education affords me not only understanding of the part my instrument plays in the orchestra, but “vertical articulation” to understand how the timpani part takes over where my tuba solo ends.

    Knowing the skills students already have in their pocket and knowing the skills they will need before they leave makes me/anyone a better teacher, and this collaboration I recommend for any teacher, school, or department.

    Recent Twelve WeeksB

    At the CMC conference in 2007, the presenter flashed a problem like this on the wall.

    (Something like this. I forget what it was.)
    (Something like this. I forget what it was.)

    He then asked, “Who got negative one for their solution?” A dozen educators bB and I bB stood, in a room of 400. A grin crept across the presenter’s face as he pointed a bony finger at us and barked, “Wrong!”

    The room burst into laughter, and I sat down quickly with aB red face.

    I didn’t say another word the rest of the conference.

    My poor math-knowledge wasB exploited to score points in the room.

    Sadly, I took that idea with me into my classroom that year.B

    I entered the field tenB years ago with no formal training in mathematics or education. Due in part toB dogged pursuit of excellence, input from dozens of smart people, and aB willingness to take a risk and fail grandly, I’ve had some meager success as a math teacher.

    Thankfully, I tookB those ideas into my class, too.B I’ve made my class a place where no bony fingers will embarrass students with the wrong answer.

    It is my pleasure and honor to now encourage other fresh teachers to take a risk and try something new.

    The uncertain deserve an outstretched hand, not a judgmental, bony finger.

    Claire, it’s my hope that your students felt that in their twelve weeks with me.

    The Next Ten Years

    In the car today with my wife, I expressedB my surprise that other math teachers value my input. As usual, she encouraged me, saying, “You understandB students and you understandB adolescence; that’s what makes your math class different. It’s not the math part.”

    I know. She’s great. That’s why I put a ring on it.

    Ten years from now, it’s highly likely that the emphasesB of math educationB will have shifted.

    Because, you know; that’s what a pendulum does. ItB swings.

    It’s my hope that my strong suit will still be something that makes math education better. I will still be interested in broadening my perspectiveB and learning about how to build better students, better teachers, and better schools.

    And I hope the next 10 years will allow me to pursue that passion with the same fruition of the previous decade.

    ~Matt “The Long-Term Non-Sub” Vaudrey

  • Vulnerability – Teacher Report Card 2016

    Dear Claire,

    You and I haven’t ever talked about the use of the Teacher Report Card as a way to get feedback from students, but lemme tell ya; it’s one of my favorite things I do.

    Every students’ face lit up when I mentionedbbefore giving them the test on Wednesdayb”After the test, you’ll be given a link. That link takes you to a Teacher Report Card where you will gradeB me.”

    Whaaaat image: Viewminder
    “Whaaaat? Awesome! That’s weird. You get straight A’s, Mr. Vaudrey! I’ma fail you.”
    image: Viewminder

    “Listen, though. I want to be the best teacher I can be, so I’m asking you howB you think the class is going because you know best. Be honest with me. You will not hurt my feelings, I can take it. Here’s your test.”

    And they were honest, as only teenagersB could be. Here’s what happened:

    snip20161007_3

    Good Stuff First

    Quite proud of my top six.

    Stuff toB Ignore

    In previous years, makes me feel importantB also been my lowest-scoring question. It’s notable that most students in the latter half of myB careerB feel that I respect each student (#2), praise good work (#4), and try to see the students point of view (#5).

    Yet I still don’t make them feel important.

    Let me get developmental for a moment; I thinkB teenagers will always have a need to feel important, one that we should encourage and affirm as long as it doesn’t encroach on the importance of others. This is a life stage where the identity is forming, which is why haircuts, hair dye, piercings, changes in handwriting, changes in clothing, changes in language, love interests, sexuality questions, and asking their teacher if he smokes weed…

    …will always be natural parts of being a teenager. It’s developmental.

    So that question will probably always be my lowest.
    (If you also give the TRCB to your students, affirm or disprove my theory in the comments.)

    Stuff to Improve

    Yes, my lowest is still 85% positive.
    Yes, I still want to be the best I can, so I’m looking at the bottom.

    The questionsB above that I’ve shaded … what color is that? … copper?… The shaded items are my focus for the second half of my long-term sub assignment. Plenty of free-response comments affirmed that my classroom management is frustrating the compliant students, especially when it comes to covering the material.

    trc-collage-2016

    Rick Morris, one of the first to dramatically impact my classroom culture, had a clear and consistent classroom management (which he modeled for us in full day workshop). As we debriefed, he said something that has stuck with me for years.

    Shelter and protect the compliant

    Claire, in 6th period, thereB are two students. One consistently arrives on time, completes all her assignments, and volunteers to answer questions. The other students made nothing but negative or disparaging remarks for the first two weeks of school. (He’s better now.)

    When the compliant student asked to move seats, I did. She deserves to be sheltered and protected more than the knucklehead needs an elbow partner.

    Other Stuff

    On the list of “Ways Teaching is Different in 2016 than 2013” is the obsession withB phones. About 25% of students mentioned “phone” in their response,B and we use them for calculators sometimes and that’s pretty much it.

    Also dabbing is new and kinda fun.

    On Wednesday, students gave me their opinions. On Monday, I was more …B demanding… with the class following instructions quickly. Sixth period (of course) felt my wrath first, but quickly fell in line.

    Nobody likes hearing their teacher use the Grumpy Voice.

    Claire, I’m not saying I’ve solved the issue that students mentioned; I’m saying I’m improving.

    Next up, content. Teaching RSP 8th grade in the hood requires a different skill set (and a differentB pace) than teaching these students.

    ~Matt “Farther Up and Farther In” Vaudrey

    P.S. Notable in the student responses is the preference toward math class feeling like it’s always felt. A few students mentioned a preference for the typical math class; one even sat me down yesterday and asked why we don’t take notes and do practice like math class is supposed to. Change is hard. Math reform can’t be done on an island.

    The yellow paper that students mentioned is a handout we use to tackle Appetizers as bellwork everyday. That one student who complainedB can suck it up; it’sB an important part of building number sense and it’s friggin’ fun.

    If you’re interested in giving the TRC to your students, click here to make a copy of the Google Form.

    Andbin the name of vulnerability and transparencybhere are all the student responses.

     

  • “Aw, He’s a Consultant.”

    Dear Claire,

    Late last week, I tweeted this:

    The tweet itself got a couple thousand views and led to some good conversations last week and thatB weekend.

    Which is kinda what I’m talking about. I think…

    I think I’m a better coach than a teacher.

    That’s a weird thing to be sheepishB about.

    snip20161007_2

    ThatB Sunday, I went to the EdTech Team’s High Desert GAFE Summit to present on stuff. It went great. People commented about how helpfulB it was, how great that I’m back in the classroom since I’m so energetic and engaging, and I even sold a fewB books while I was there.

    Then today, I dragged two periods of freshmen through Graphing Stories and just… didn’t feel like a great teacher. Jack forgot his glasses, but insisted he got contacts this weekend. Katherine’s new seat in the middle of the room was a bad idea, since she can now distractB everybody in the back half of class, andB all of 6th periodbdespite being lovely as individualsbstruggle to get through anything as a group.

    In the gap since I was last a teacher, I’ve had my head in theB theory of teaching, waxing rhetorically about the death of homework or reading books about theB inclusion of students of color in meaningful waysB or sharing ways to increase student voice and agency in the classroom (including this on Wednesday).

    image: Ricardo Williams on flickr
    image: Ricardo Williams on flickr

    What a blessing to be an instructional coach and have the lowered stress level so I canB dream about education outside of the four walls of aB classroom, without worrying about the new seating chart that I promised them forB Monday and didn’t even start yet and lunch ends in 12 minutes and dammit I still have to make copies and I haven’t even erased the board from Friday yet.

    It’s easy to dream about big ideas, but some of the dailyB stuff is kicking my ass.

    And worse than that; I’m feeling like the stuffed-shirt, overpaid, abstracted Educator that presents at conferences about ideas s/he hasn’t tried.

    I’ve satB in those sessions and rolled my eyes and murmured to my teammate, “Aw, he’s aB consultant.”

    What can s/he possibly know aboutB real teaching?

    “Babe,” says my wife. “You’re your own worst critic. Your class is probably a funner place to learn than other places on campus. Many of those kids probably just sit silently the rest of the day, but they get a voice in your room.”

    While she may be right, I’m not convincedB yet that I’m doing anB excellent job.B Every day is a risk (which doesn’t scare me) and I’m worried that I’m not as good a teacher now as I was when I left (which scares the hell out of me).

    I’m curious to see what Wednesday’s Teacher Report Card results look like. Of course, I’ll post them here.

    ~Matt “No disrespect for subs. Your job is really hard.” Vaudrey

     

  • Dear Erin

    What follows is an email I sent back to Erin, a teacher who read the book and this blog and rightfully had some questions.

    I (and John) are thrilled that Classroom Chef has opened us to have these conversations more often.

     

    Hi, Erin.

    I’ve been sitting on this email for a few days. It’s ready for print now:

    First: Wow! You’re asking these questions in your second year of teaching?* I’m way impressed; my second year was full of some pretty terrible Direct Instruction lessons and not much else.

    Okay, in order:
    1. I get the idea of creating exciting lesson plans that engage the kids, but then what? Do you have them do traditional practice problems? On your blog, you mention that your students take out “today’s assignment” and you post the answers on the board. Does that mean it was yesterday’s assignment that they have all ready completed? Or the current day?

    If your department has policies on homework, quizzes, and tests, this is where they fall into place. I’m a long-term sub right now, so I’m doing what the Full-Time teacher wants to do, even if I don’t agree.

    Anyway, if you choose to assign homework, figure out the purpose of the homework before you assign it. That very question was kicked around on Twitter this weekend by teachers more veteran than I.

    Is the purpose rote memorization? Repeated practice? Extension and application? Or just a written response to the day? Of those four, I like the last two. When I have the option, homework was a couple practice, then an extension, then a written response to something. Four questions, 2-10 minutes.

    Later in my career, I’ve printed the answers on the back (reinforcing that I care more about the process of learning than the result, then had students check the answers with each other. If there were still questions after that, it was a good sign that the topic didn’t stick very well.

    2. In that same blog post (I know it’s from a few years ago), your board with your agenda says “magic brain, note, stretch, practice, challenge”….Would you mind explaining how that goes? You explain in detail your pre-class routine, but is there another post with the rest of your class schedule?

    For the post in question, here’s how that lesson went:

    • Magic Brain – you may have seen the “Big X Method” to teach factoring. Magic Brain was my attempt to remove the “method,” and practice the skill of noting the sum of two factors and the product of two factors. I’d draw the X, like you see in that link, then tell the class, “I have two numbers inside my magic brain. Added, they make ____, multiplied, they make ____. Show me on your whiteboard if you can read mymind.” We practiced that for a bit, then…
    • Note – Usually, the agenda would say “Notes,” but this day had only one topic; factoring trinomials. We took a “note,” did a couple practice problems on their own in the notebook, then…
    • Stretch – We had 90 minute periods. This was before I used the “stand and talk to your neighbor” song, so we regularly took stretch breaks during class. Plenty of research shows the correlation between body activity and blood flow to the brain, but I now know that every 40 minutes is far too seldom, especially for middle school.
    • Practice – After the stretch break, whiteboard practice of factoring polynomials. Then…
    • Challenge – we returned to the Daily Doozy and tackled the college-level problem that we started with.

    3. Basically, I’m just trying to figure out a good solid routine that incorporates those fun and engaging things like “math talks”, and “estimation 180”, and “Would you rather”, and “3 act tasks”, but then what about practice problems and homework? Necessary or not? Will the kids “get” what they need without those practice problems? Do you just teach the barbie jump line and then they get it?

    This is my favorite question from your email; I’m thrilled that you’re interested in the most effective way to make a topic stick, and it’s my hope that teachers like you begin to fill the profession and dilute the negativity and status quo that contaminate teacher’s lounges around the country.

    Yeah, there’s some strong language there, but you’re clearly on the right track by asking the question, so here it goes:

    For now, the standardized test doesn’t ask questions the same way that research says kids experience learning. Instead of, “On a bungee jump, what is important?” the tests say, “Barbie is bungee jumping from a platform 80 feet above a bridge. Each bungee stretches 0.5 feet per 10 pounds of weight. How many bungees does Barbie need if she weighs 150 pounds?”

    Until standardized tests move the goalposts of math education, we’ll have to play on the field with terms they define.

    So you gotta use Barbie Bungee to whet their appetite, then move them slightly further and further toward abstraction. That might mean using practice problems for a homework assignment that use the language above, or doing a performance task that closer aligns to the SBAC or PARCC.

    In short, when students enjoy coming to your class, appreciate the effort you put into their learning, and respect you, they’re more likely to tolerate bad math problems without digging in their heels.
    ___________________

    Clearly, I can write for pages about math education and the subtle shifts that I think will make it meaningful. Infinitely more important than my voice in your classroom is yours, Erin.

    Keep asking questions, keep pushing on the fences.

    ~Matt “Not An Expert” Vaudrey

    * In a later email, Erin noted that it’s her 10th year teaching, second year inB this classroom.

  • Conflicting Values

    Dear Claire,

    I drafted this post, but never published it last week.

    This was a week of transitions, one in which I was very thankful for this blog, twitter, and my wife as a sounding board.

    On Monday, the air-conditioning in room 908 still wasn’t fixed, and the temperature climbed to 89B0 before 6th period ended. David (a student you’ll meet in a few months) suggested, “Why don’t we go outside? There’s a breeze.”

    So we did. We took our whiteboards and worked through literal equations outdoors. It was… pretty good. I took 7th period to the air-conditioned library to do the same thing. It was also… justB pretty good.

    I came home and wrote a post (that I didn’t publish) about how I wanted more traction with the students. We’re four weeks into the school year; surely by now there should be some sense of what a “normal day” feels like. Or worse, their chatty and tough-to-wrangle behaviorB is a “normal day,” but I’m too much of a softie with my classroom management to notice it.

    That’s a distinct possibility.

    Shibuya (who teaches next door) and I chatted about the need to be strict without being rough, stern without being mean, and… that’s hard for me. I’ve been telling new teachers for the last three years that “students can smell when you’re doing someone else’s lesson or someone else’s management style. Be genuine.”

    Now here I am, being genuine and realizing that I should have higher expectations for how we treat each other.

    All of those feelings happened on a shortened-schedule Monday with no air-conditioning.

    Fast-forward to Tuesday and Wednesday, where we did notes and whiteboard practice for solving and graphing inequalities. They were on-task, respectful, and we blew through plenty of content.

    Here’s my internal struggle. Not the oneB about being nice vs. stern. A different struggle.

    Students appear to want notes and whiteboard practice more than weird and innovative lessons.

    There. I said it.

    Not just in their collective compliance, butB out loud.

    “Your way is weird. Can I just use the formula?”
    ~Madi, period 7

    There’s more. The piece I’m realizing (right this minute, as I type) that I’ve forgotten:

    Of course, they will be quieter when they’re writing stuff down. And that looksB like compliance and desire.

    Claire, that post I drafted onB Monday was falsely correlating silence and engagement.

    The opposite is probably true.

    ~Matt “Robert, it’s Eric’s turn to talk. Go ahead, Eric.” Vaudrey

     

  • 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.

  • How Different Are Classrooms?

    This gem ambled across my Twitter feed this morning.

    Oh, baby. What a great question.

    How different are classrooms?

    There are nearly 500 classrooms I can visit on the clock. I’ve probably set foot in half of them, and I regularly hit the same 100, because as the onlyB EdTech Coach serving 13 K-12 schools, I go where I’m called.

    Three things are observable whether my jaunt in a classroom is 30 minutes or 30 seconds:

    Noise
    Productivity
    Mood

    Regardless of age, demographic, or ability, those three things let me infer something about the class.

    Noise

    class

    The door closes behind me and the class is noisy, yet calm. The talk I hear as I weave between student desks is littered with vocab terms mixed in withB casual language.

    “Yeah, but what about … theorem … mad at Mrs. Frizzle … Prussian independence … monksB built them to trade … article after the subject… no idea why… centered on the page … son las diecinueve de diciembre… the fuzzy part on the line.”

    Noise in an effective class is fine; it rarely rises above a hum when focused on the material. Seasoned teachers can tell when it gets too loud, and it’s usually due to one group that isn’t focused.

    Rather than yelling over the din, “Hey, I need you all to bring the noise level down!”, seasonedB teachers mosey over to Francisco’s group and just stand there.

    Conversation drops off asB all students silently stare at their desks. Maria picks up her pencil as the teacher asks, “Whatcha guys talkin’ about? Sounds fun.”

    ashamed-girl

    The girls avoid eye contact and Francisco grins, “We’re talking about how the verb in the sentence is jumping and we’re thinking about how to make a new sentence.”

    “Sounds great! Carry on,” and the teacher leaves.

     

    I’ve watched fantastic Kindergarten teachers herd a whole room of 5-year-olds to the carpet and read through a book, unbothered by their noise along the way.

    Teacher: On Monday, he ate one apple, but he was still hungry…
    Students: I don’t like apples. I had an apple for lunch yesterday!
    Teacher: On Tuesday, he ate through two oranges, but he was still hungry. Marco, keep your hands to yourself.
    Students: My gramma has an orange tree in her yard. My favorite car is orange. I’m wearing orange socks today.
    Teacher: On Wednesday…

    Noise is not the enemy, which leads me to number two.

    This class is very quiet.
    This class is very quiet.

    Productivity

    There are loud classes that are hard at work and there are silent classes bored out of their skulls and doing nothing.

    I walked through four classes this morning.

    1. Silent, diligently working on a computer assessment
    2. Loud chattering about a Twitter war between Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton
    3. Light chatter, grading a sample student’s performance task in pairs*
    4. Cacophonous covers of Justin Bieber in “Modern Music” class

    Four very different noise levels, all with students focused on the task at hand, productive.

    Those four classes differed greatly in the Mood, though.

    Mood

    For the classes above, the mood was palpable in each case.

    1. Entered silently in a single-file.
    2. Tumbled in, got right to their seats, and took out their notebooks.
    3. Stumbled through the door, stopped at their friend’s desk to say hello, and ruffled the hair of their crush on the way to their seats.
    4. Digging out their song lyrics and iPods before they even entered the bandroom.

    The mood of a class is the toughest to quantify, but the easiest to notice.

    Teachers who had militant, Draconian mentors early in their career might have a mood that is subdued and frightened.

    Teachers with youth-ministry training might attempt to be “the nice teacher,” and get their ass kicked for the whole first year.

    But teachers who value student voiceB tend to be unbothered by noise.

    The Lesson

    Here is where many teacher preparation programs fall short. Pre-service observations focus on “noise level” and “students on-task,” but the third category directly informs the other two, and a focus on the classroom mood naturally leads the teacher to discover how much noise they prefer.

    And students will work hard in a room where they feel safe.

    ~Matt “The Nice Teacher…Usually” Vaudrey

     

    *Yes, grading a sample performance task. So they know how performance tasks are graded, so they know how to score highly on the performance tasks during the SBAC test. It was a real bummer.