Mrvaudrey

Category: Teaching

  • One Year Anniversary

    One year ago this week, I left the classroom to take a coaching position, not knowing if I would ever return. It was a risk, and while I’m usually a big fan of risk in the classroom, this risk was blind.

    Since then, I have changed schools/districts, presented at a dozen workshops and conferences across the state, and grown into many business-like skills that I didn’t think I would need.

    For example, I never learned how to manage a calendar. Who would I need it? The bell tells me when to go potty.

    "Come on, second period, come ooooooooon!"
    “Come on, second period, come ooooooooon!”

    Last week, I was walking around with the superintendent, visiting school sites and checking out classes that were doing interesting things (with tech). While killing time in the office, he asked me, “So, Matt; do you like your job?”

    “Oh, yeah. It’s a great fit for me.” Luckily, my honest answer doesn’t require me to censor anything for the superintendent.

    “Is it like what you thought it would be?” He leans in and raises his eyebrows.

    “I don’t miss havingB my own students as much as I thought I would, andB I get to giveB fun demo lessons and never give report cards or IEPs.”

    We all chuckle and head to the next class to visit.

    Here’s the longer answer I could give:

    Is this job what you thought it would be?

    Not really. And that’s okay.

    After the CUE conference, there are a half-dozen new cool things teachers wanna try. Most of them will go back the classroom and forget them. If I want, I can go back to a desk and spend timeB on the clockB figuring out new ways to make class more meaningful.

    It’s pretty sweet.

    (Notable:B I’ve been in about 15 classes as of Thursday lunch. Not much desk time this week.)

    Also, I don’t miss having my own students as much as I thought I would. That was by far the most important part of my classroom, and I’m not finding a hole in my heart like I thought there would be.

    I believe I’m doing a decent job ofB district-level coaching without being viewed as the district stooge, which was a worry of mine.

    "It's so great to see game-changers like you creating 21st-century learners for student success."
    “It’s so great to see game-changers like you raising rigor and creating 21st-century learners for student success. Let’s take a 2-hour lunch and discussB it.”

    Since I gave a snapshot of this week a year ago as I left the classroom, I think it’s fitting to give a snapshot of this week (before I arrived at CUE 2015):

    Researched web-hosting for my personal website and my boss’s soon-to-be-created CEPTA portfolio.

    Chat with a Speech and Language Pathologist to answer the question “What technology will help with small-group instruction?” (This–by the way–is a much more effective question than “What can I do with iPads?”)

    You can do a lot of different things with ____, what do you WANT to do? That might not be the best tool for the job.
    You can do a lot of different things with it;B what do you WANT to do? That might not be the best tool for the job.

    Fine-tuned a digital fitness portfolio for Middle School P.E. Teachers, then set up all the studentsB in Google Classroom and pushed out a blank copy. (Click that first link and check out the graphs. I’m quite proud of it.)

    While joiningB the students to Ms. Berkler’s Google Classroom, I can tell she’sB clearly not understanding the intricacy of what they’re doing. She gives a shy smile and claims B “I’m not techy”. But she pacesB along dutifully as we logged into a Google ClassroomB with her Fitness Intervention students.

    As fourth period files out to lunch, she turns to me and says, “This is going to be so good for us. I can see how this will help our class. AndB the students were really into your instruction!”

    “Thanks!” I reply, “Any chance I can get in a classroom with middle-schoolers. They’re just soB fun!”

    She smiles the biggest I’ve seen all day and declares, “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

    B

    So, yeah. It’s going pretty well.

    ~Matt “One Year Anniversary” Vaudrey

  • Accidentally Teaching Students to Hate School

    “Stop!”

    A whimper from across the terminalB makes me look up. A 12-year-old boy and I make eye-contact before he buries his face in his book and pleads to the woman on his right again, “Stop! Please!”

    The heavy-set woman folds her arms and says flatly, “You just made it 400. Wanna try for five?”

    The boy puts his book down and turns to look at the woman, his mother. “Stop!” He pleads again.

    “Five hundred, it is. Let’s go for six.” She bristles up straighter in her chair as her son scoots lower and lower. “Six it is. You wanna stop crying now?”

    The boy looks at me again, his face growing red and his pre-pubescentB hands squeezing the pages of a Captain Underpants book. The book flops onto his lap and he whispers, “Stop… please.”

    captain-underpants-thn

    “Seven hundred sentences,” Mom stares down her son, a hint of pride in her voice, which is loud enough for us to hear inB the row facing them. “You need to stop being oppositional. There;B you just made it eight.” She is determined to win.

    The book covers his face again. “I’m not gonna write them,” he sobs into the pages.

    “What’s that?” His mom holds a hand to her ear, a hint of sarcasm tints her voice. “Do I hear 900?”

    “I’m not gonna write them!” He’s insisting now, trying to convince his mom or convince himself, I can’t tell.

    “One. Thousand. Sentences.” Her head bobs with each word.

    John growls in my ear. “I can’t sit here for this shit.” He angrily zips his bag and storms to the other end of Gate 29 at Ontario Airport.

    This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a novice teacher wrestle with the will of an adolescent. It’s not even the first time I’ve seen someone use writing as corporal punishment and be confident that it’s the right move.

    But it’s the first time in recent memory that I’ve been powerless to do anything about it.

    I join John a few feet away and we growl together in time to see the two of themB walk past.

    Mom is holding son’s wrist with two fingers, insisting “I’m hardly touching you.” but clearly, she is further compounding his embarrassment. A boy on the verge of manhood, asserting his will against a his mother–the opposing force–but met with humiliation.

    She raises her voice, as if to announce to the observers that she’s being reasonable. “Once you stop being so oppositional, then it’ll get better.” She sounds confident, but I know better. “You’re twelve years old. Stop crying!”

    John leans in and says, “You know… a younger John would’ve said something to her. Like, ‘Hey, you’re training your son to hate school if you use sentences as punishment, so knock it off!’ A younger John would’ve let her have it.”

    “Yeah.” I agree, “Getting older isn’t as fun when you’re supposed to tolerate bad management of teenagers. But you know telling her off won’t help her improve.”

    “You know what I shoulda done?” John is so angry, he hardly hears me. “I shoulda said, ‘Lady, we can go talk in private or I can tell you what I’m thinking in front of your son.’” John’s eyes are alight and his jaw is clenched. Not a violent or angryB man by nature, his blood boils when he sees children maligned.

    He probably would’ve made the poor woman shit her pants.

    We line up to board and I ask the attendant, “How full are we today?”

    He shrugs, “Only, like … 38 out of 140.” He waves us on.

    Perfect. A ratio problem to distract us. I grin and ask John, “Well, 35 is five sevens and 140 is twenty sevens, so the plane is about 25 or 30% full, yeah?” We round the jetway corner and see the woman seated in a row by herself. A dozen rows further up, a small head of curly black hair looks out the window and sniffles.

    I’m pleased to see that he’s asserting some independence. At the very least, it’s good to recognize when your emotions are weakening your verbal filter.

    We settle into our seats across the aisle from the woman. I selfishly take the aisle seat, just in case the opportunity arisesB to talk about parenting with a woman 10 years my senior. I see her murmuring something to the flight attendant, and realizeB this is the moment when my wife would pull my sleeve and say, “Let it go. She’s not going to change based on a conversation with some guy on a plane.”

    So I pull out my book and–as I’m prone to do–I have an imaginary conversation in my head. It goes like this:

    Vaudrey: Excuse me, ma’am. May I speak with you?
    Mother: Yes?
    V: I’m a teacher and I couldn’t help but overhear your scuffle with the boy. Was that your son?
    M: Yes.
    V: He seemed upset about your punishment. What were the sentences?
    M: When he’s oppositional, he has to write “I will follow directions” out on paper and give it to me.
    V: Why did you choose that punishment?
    M: Who the fuck are you? Why do you care?
    V: My name is Matt Vaudrey, and I’m a math teacher. I’ve spent the last eightB years finding ways to deal with unruly students. Sons and daughters of gang members and drug dealers, students far more unruly than your son who brings a book to the airport and bursts into tears instead of yelling or punching. He began to cry while you were speaking. Was that your intent?
    M: …well… no.
    V: What was your intent?
    M: Well, I want him to be less oppositional!
    V: Why is that?
    M: You’re a teacher! You know he’s gotta follow the rules. He can’t speak to me like that.
    V: Okay, you say he has to follow the rules, but you also mentioned disrespect.
    M: Yeah! He can’t disrespect me!
    V: I agree. Here’s why I wanted to speak to you: I tried using sentences as punishment early in my career, and it only served to alienate my students and foster in them a distaste for school. It didn’t remotely earn me the respectB that I wanted. However, when I switched to a relationship and asked for my students’ respect, I found that I didn’t need to discipline them very much at all. Further, they were nicer to me, not just compliant. When we disagreed, we did so respectfully, because they knew that they had my respect, as well.
    Does that sound like a relationship that you’d like with your son?
    M: *scoffs* You look about 16, what the hell do you know about parenting a teenager?
    V: You’re definitely the expert on your son, who I don’t know at all. But I’ve taught roughly 900 students, most of which were harder than your son.
    Also, do you think that writing sentences as a punishment creates a positive connection with writing or a negative one?
    M: (eyes welling up with transformative tears) Well… a negative one, obviously.
    V: I agree. Would you like a better way to disagree with him? Head back to his seat and apologize for embarrassing him in the airport. Then ask howB heB would like you to respond if he’s being oppositional. Let him explain a solution that would work for him. Sentences clearly aren’t doing it.
    Then you’re teammates instead of adversaries, with mutual respect as the goal.
    M: (bursts into tears) Yes! Thank you, Mr. Vaudrey! That’s what I want for my son! Waaaaahahahahaaaa!”

    My wife says my imaginary conversationsB start out reasonable and get stupid toward the end.

    B

    *Ding*

    “Welcome to Ontario Airport. Local time is 10:35 PM.”

    John and I unbuckle our seatbeltsB and pull down our bags.

    B

    On my way out, the boy looks at me. I resist the urge to say, “Hang in there, dude. It’ll get better.”

    B

    Because I’m not sure it will.

    ~Matt “Guardian Angel of Parenting” Vaudrey

    P.S. John wrote about the experience, too. And my distaste for this style of punishment isn’t anything new.

  • Prep Position

    “Oh!… what do you train them on?” my sister asked.

    “Mostly risk-taking in the classroom,” I responded, trying to sum up La Cucina Matematica into a few words. “Since most degree programs prepare teachers to teach the same way thatB they were taught, John and I try to get teachersB to explore more interesting ways to teach.”

    “Good!” Bethany huffed. “You don’t hear about excellent teachers very often, just the awful ones. The ones on the news.”

    “No shit,” I agreed. “Getting students excited about schoolB is a different skill set. A teacher named Dave Burgess wrote a book about it.”

    As I explainedB Teach Like A Pirate to my soon-to-be-doctoral-degreed sister, she exclaimed into the phone, “Like Ms. Mega!”

    I asked BethanyB to elaborate, and she told me this story.

    surgeon

    When I was in 6th grade, Ms. Mega answered the door after lunch dressed like a doctor. She welcomed us into class with her hands held up like she had just scrubbed in to surgery. Written on the board was the word PREPOSITION in huge letters.

    We filed quietly into our seats, unsure of what came next. Were we in trouble? Is there some kind of outbreak? Are we in quarantine?

    “I need a volunteer!” Ms. Mega proclaimed loudly from the front of the class. in front of two student desks. While all of us were curious, my friendB Sheree was the only one who raised her hand. “Sheree, please come lay on the desk.”

    I was so glad I didn’t volunteer; I don’t want to have elective surgery at school.

    Once Sheree was laying across the two student desks, Ms. Mega wrote the word “ON” below “PREPOSITION” on the board.

    “Sheree isB on the desk. She is in Prep Position. Her Preposition inB on. Give me an example of another Prep Position.”

    And she waited.

    “Under?” offered Ryan shyly.

    “Sheree, please assume the Prep PositionB under the desk.” Ms. Mega wrote UNDER next to ON as Sheree climbed down and balled herself under the desk. “What is another Prep Position?”

    A room full of 12-year-oldsB quickly picked up steam, “Around!” “Through!” “Inside!” and Ms. Mega wrote all the prepositions on the board as Sheree tried to wrap herself around the desk or climb through its bars.

    And to this day, I remember what a Preposition is, all because Ms. Mega had an interesting lesson about it. That was… 15 years ago. Ugh, that sounds like a long time.

    ~Matt (and Bethany) Vaudrey

    UPDATE 12:53 PM We had this conversation today regarding this post.

    Bethany Text Ms. Mega

  • 2014 Reflection

    The best record of the good things in 2014 is my Twitter feed, so here are some of the best moments from 2014, in Tweet-form, semi-chronologically:

    January of 2014, John Stevens and I gave a training for the Mariposa County math teachers called La Cucina Matematica.

    A year later, we’ve done sixB or sevenB of them (allB wayB better than the first one), and it spawned a website and we’re both getting calls to train staff across the country. Pretty sweet.

    A few months later, I interviewed for a job in-district as Professional Development Specialist.

    That meant leaving the classroom mid-year.

    Even though I had more time at home, the jobB wasn’t professionally satisfying. I enjoy doing math with students, I don’t enjoy structuringB curriculum maps for integrat—Yegh. I’m bored already.

    I did have more time to blog, though.

    So eight weeks later, I interviewed and accepted aB different job. It was immediately fantastic.

    In between all of that chaos, we had a baby on Father’s Day.

    clayton

    My wife looks terrified because baby ClaytonB didn’t cry/breathe right away. It was the longest, scariest 7 seconds of my life.

    But he’s fine now.

    If you’re curious, he has a hashtag on Instagram and so does his sister, which makes compiling pictures really easy with IFTTT.

    Then I settled into the glorious routine of “figuring out a new job that hasB noB job description,B total autonomy, and a supportive supervisor who’s a hoot”.

    Out of “the rat race”, so to speak, of day-to-day teaching, I had more mental energy to play with my kids, read books, and think about education and my future in it.

    This new job is just as supportive as the classroom position when it comes to attending conferences and presenting. It’s notable that some of my top tweets of the year happened during CMC, CUE, and GTA.

     

    Also, I had a little help compiling this list from My Top Tweet and some fancy Googling.

    For 2015:

    I turned 30 in 2014. While that meant throwing a 1997-themed birthday, it also meant looking forward.

    What can I give to Education thatB nobody else can give?

    While I may never have a good answer for that, I’m getting closer to a coherent response.

    In 2013, I gave 150 students a fun place to talk about math; a safe place to take risks and trust each other.

    In 2014, I taught (or attempted to) a hundred or so teachers about how to buildB their classes into that type of class. Also, some other like-minded individuals and I began to wonder, “Could we find a way to effect greater change in Education? How do we get there?”

    In 2015, we will keep asking hard questions and dreaming. We’ll see what happens.

    ~Matt “I wanna change the world, but I also want to teach” Vaudrey

  • I Lost My Chops

    Read all the way to the end. This is a short post.

    Demo Day

    Mr.B B Guiles is a fantastic teacher at Lone Hill Middle School. While he and I are fairly matched on our interest in EdTech, we each have our own strongholds of knowledge.

    So it’s simultaneously relaxing and intimidating to do a demo in his computer lab.

    “Good morning, class! On the wall, you’ll see our agenda for the day.” I point toward the screen opposite the teacher computer, where I’ll be walking them through peer editing on Google Drive. There are three bullet points:

    • Log in

    • Share Documents & Edit

    • Google Form

    In a class of 36, all but 5 had no trouble logging in and finding the correct link. Mr. Guiles (in the back of the room) hovered and helped three students who were stuck.

    That left two.

    “If you’ve already typed up your paper in a Word document, you can upload it by clicking and dragging,” I call as I walk by Karl, who is playing a racing game online. “Hey, um… what’s your name? … Close that, please. We’re … um… we’re working on your papers right now.”

    He complies.

    Next to the teacher computer, Frankie is looking at racy pictures of women in swimsuits.

    Right. by. my. desk.

    “Hey, come on, man!” I whine. “Seriously? You have to do that right now?”

    “I don’t have internet at home,” Frankie replies, zooming in.

    I look over at Guiles,B who raises his eyebrows. “Come sit over here.” I point to a single desk with no computer. Frankie rolls his eyes and moves.

    “What do we do once we’re logged in?” asks Jacqueline, a short 8th grader with glasses.

    “Hang on,” I reply. “Let’s get everybody logged in first.” She sighs.

    “Is everybody… um… is everybody logged in?” I pull on my collar and wonder,B What’s with me today? I don’t feel confident at all, and I did this with adults last week. I’m sweating and nervous. Did I eat breakfast? Dammit, I skipped breakfast.

    A suppressed giggle turns my attention toward the door. Karl is texting and giggling.

    “Karl, come sit over here.” I point him toward Frankie’s now-empty seat next to my desk.

    “No,” says Karl, without looking up.

    I take a deep breath, about to put on my sour teacher face, when I hear from the door, “Hey! Are you my kid’s teacher?”

    Standing in the door is a dad wearing a blue “Lone Hill Lions” T-shirt. He’s obviously never met Guiles, who has a huge beard and glasses, but I’m thankful for the break from Karl, so I engage him.

    “What can I do for you?” I move past him into the hallway and he follows.

    “You gave her a C and she’s an A student. I’m getting you firedB right now, and I thought you should know about it.” He pokes me in the chest.

    I break eye contact and take a step back. “Sir…” I begin, but I can’t find the words.B
    I’m only a tech coach, this isn’t my clsasroom.
    My main job is to help teachers use technology in the classroom, but today, it’s not going so well.
    Teaching is much easier when I have my own classroom with my own kids. I miss my own classroom.B

    The Dad pokes me in the chest again and I lean against the wall behind me, feeling 10 years old again.B What’s wrong with me today?

    My eyes snap open. I turn over in bed and see the clock. 4:51 AM.

    WAKE UP! You've had a BAD DREAM! by Marta Moraschi

    That was a terrible dream.

    ~Matt “Gotta stay sharp”B Vaudrey

  • What’s Missing?

    This tweet caught my eye last week.


    Three things on that.

    1.) I’d be a way better coach

    All four people tagged in that tweet can testify that credibility is the most precious commodity for an educational trainer.

    Skeptics can smell B a desk jockey the minute they walk into the conference room wearing dress shoes or heels.

    redshoe
    THIS is what teachers wear.

    I’m guilty of this skepticism, too. B For the last eight years, I’ve attended CMC-South every fall, and some of the presenters are…

    well….

    professors.

    Good... uh.... good afternoon. We... um... we received a grant in 2006...
    Good… uh…. good afternoon. We… um… we received a grant in 2006…

    I’d scoff silently and see if any other–more interesting–sessions were taking place in that time slot. I’m a teacher, I told myself. I’m not going to waste 90 minutes listening to this district stooge talk about “rigor”.

    Now I’m the district stooge.

    Teaching one period a day would allow me 55 minutes to try out those ideas that Twitter and Voxer find for me: those ideas that sound awesome and I want to immediately try in the classroom.

    Teaching, however, is a lot like making fudge.

    Photo credit in the link.
    Photo credit in the link.

    Every fall, I make fudge for my students before Winter Break. I buy the ingredients, set up my double boiler, line the cooling tray with wax paper, and chop almonds and walnuts.

    When I had 200 students, I made 5 batches of fudge.
    When I had 80 students, I made 3 batches of fudge.
    This year, I’ll probably make two batches of fudge.1

    All the prep is the same, it’s just repeatingB the steps.

    While I daydream about doing both roles, in reality…

    2.) I’d be aB wayB worse coach.

    If I taught one period of students, I’m still prepping the lesson, entering grades, hanging student work on the wall, developing seating charts, and cutting out colored paper for aB class set of congruentB triangle cards.

    All for only one batch of fudge.
    Seems like an awful waste of energy.

    As a one-period-per-day teacher, I have department meetings, IEPs, back-to-school night, and a heavenly host of other duties that keep me from meeting teachers as a coach.

    Many would re-schedule.
    Most would just give up trying to get a hold of me.

    "Never mind. I'll make my own overhead transparencies."
    “Never mind. I’ll make my own overhead transparencies.”

    It wouldn’t be just 55 minutes that I’m a teacher, it’d beB closer to half the workday. That’s hoursB each week that I’m not researching 1st grade math apps for the iPads, prepping workshops for getting departments on Google Drive, or giving demo lessons to seniors on QR codes.

    A part-time teacher and part-time coach is significantly less profitable for my district than a full-time teacher orB full-time coach.

    What’s most likely in this scenario is…

    3.) I’d do a mediocre job of both

    “Sorry, students. Mr. Vaudrey is unavailable for math tutoring after school, during lunch, before school, or during prep period, andB he also leans heavily on his department and grade-level teams to pull his weight on parent-conferences, student discipline, and late work.”

    “Sorry, teachers. Vaudrey understands how busy your schedule is; he’s a teacher, too! His mornings are swamped scrambling through a lesson that he delivers once. But he can’t improve it for secondB period;B there is no second period!B After a 40-minute lunch at his desk answering Tech emails, he eventually settles on supporting a teacher at his school site instead of driving across town. His teammates at the middle school get most of his Ed Tech coaching, while other schools rarely see him.”

    frazzled

    For the time being, I must be content to beB justB a coach, and mooch classrooms for demo lessons whenever I can. Those students will never beB my students, but it’ll keep my chops sharp for the next time I present a grant summary at CMC.

    While I miss the day-to-day routine of classroom teaching, I’m also thrilled to be building Google Presentations on a Chromebook while listening to SciShow and sitting on an exercise ball.

    I wore costumes most of the day on Saturday.

    Although… I did sillyB stuff in the classroom, too.
    Silly is kinda tough to switch off.

    All of these three coach teachers. Only one has a mouthful of food.
    Everyone in this pictureB coaches teachers while in costume. Only one has a mouthful of food.

    ~Matt “I still miss my running shoes” Vaudrey

    P.S. John StevensB also wrote a response to Tim’s tweet.
    P.P.S Check out Felix’s response in the comments below.

    1. It’s not a linear relationship. The 200 students got much smaller pieces than the 80, but here’s a quick model that I’m quite sure can be improved.b)

  • Two Schools of Math Teachers

    Today, I witnessed an excellent old-school lesson. The teacher was engaging, funny, and had play-doh on the desks with toothpicks to demonstrate angle relationships to the sophomore Geometry students.

    Students inserted a Cloze Notes-Style handout into their plastic dry-erase sleeve and followed along, filling in words to define the vocabulary in sentence frames. By the end of class, all the students were giving the correct hand signalB for Adjacent Angles, Vertical Angles, and more.

    But something… just didn’t feel right about it.

    No… not right… something didn’t feelB complete about it.

    Earlier this week, I was chatting with John Stevens and Jed Butler on Voxer.

    Picture group texts, but with voice messages instead. It's awesome.
    Voxer – group texts, but with voice messages instead. It’s awesome.

    We had just gotten our issue of CoMmuniCator (the monthly publication of CMC) which featured two-page descriptions of lessons, like visual patternsB and drawing the ideal polygon.

    It occurred to me, those are two things that prominent math educators have doneB extensive work with online, yet CMC has no idea, nor do the teachers who are submitting these articles.

    We appear to have two schools of math teachers.

    The first school is the Math-Twitter-Blog-o-sphere (affectionately and mercifully abbreviated #MTBOS).

    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

    Hundreds of math educators across the world weigh in on blogs, twitter feeds, and Voxer channels to inform best practices on teachers thousands of miles away that they’ve never met. The focus is professional growth that helps students learn mathematics in a meaningful way.

    The second school is the CoMmuniCator crowd.

    Fenced_Pond_-_geograph.org.uk_-_69202

    They spend hours writing a two-page description of visual patterns in their math classroom, include a worksheet, and submit it to the local Math Education journal, feeling satisfied: that their environment is full of opportunities like this.

    To these, I insist; there is so much more than your pond.

    Clouds_over_the_Atlantic_Ocean from wikimedia

    Outside the pond, there is a wide large world full of dynamic educators whose students aren’t just learning the standards, they’re learning to wrestle,

    to challenge,

    to critique,

    to debate,

    to seek meaning out of chaos.

    In short, there is an ocean of educators growing children into little mathematicians while others are makingB really cool photocopies in their pond.

    I’m not saying that they’re bad teachers. Not that they’re boring.

    Just that they’re missing out.

    I’ve had dozens of conversations with math teachers since my recent job change to EdTech Coach. Less than half have heard of Dan Meyer or Desmos.

    Evelyn Baracaldo, a representative of NCTM 2015 – Nashville, sent out a few emails to teachers (including me), inviting us to present on “Emerging Technologies”. Some digging on my part revealed:

    • The deadline to submit proposals is 15 months before the conference date. (Proposals for a conference on “emerging technologies”.)
    • There will be no wireless internet available.
    What?

    NCTM, the largest group of Math Educators in the nation, is missing the point.

    EDIT: Shortly after posting this, I had lunch with Robert Kaplinksy, who convinced me that NCTM reaching out to blogging, tweeting teachers like me is a step in the right direction,B and I should lighten up.

    He’s correct. Afterward, I applied toB give a workshopB at NCTM Nashville.

    This feels like the keynote addressB at Twitter Math Camp (which I didn’t attend this year, though I heard whispers and elevator summaries). Those of us in the ocean have a vested interest inB theB thousands of ponds across the country.

    Backyard Pond by Todd Ryburn
    Some of those ponds are excellent and need no help.

    This year, I’m excited to show the pond-fish just how big the ocean is.

    UPDATE 3 MARCH 2015: The California Mathematics Council continues to borrow blog posts in print form,B with three-acts and visual patternsB in the March issue. I have mad respect for Brad Fulton, butB surely he’s aware of Dan Meyer’s work on the three acts of a mathematical story.

    Also, it’s cringeworthy that CMC appears unaware of Desmos andB still uses Comic Sans.

    ~Matt “The Sand Shark” Vaudrey

  • Barbie Bungee 2014

    It appears that Fawn and I did this lesson on the same day… again. We teach over 100 miles from each other, but we appear to have some type of ESP that only affects the snarky.

    Anyway.

    Barbie

    Twice in the last three months, I have told a room full of teachers and education professionals to “take a risk, jump in, just go for it”, and I’ve used today’s lesson as an example. The Barbie BungeeB (two years ago) was just dropped on students with no prior discussion and only a little planning on my part, and it went fine.

    What I didn’t mention was that I did this lesson at the end of the school year after testing, when students are most likely to be thankful for a day outside and a weird lesson. A day without a clear learning objective was fine then.

    Not so, now.

    Toward the end of a unit on graphing (using prescribed curriculum that left some holes), we took a couple days to do the Barbie Bungee. I overhauled the handoutB completely… except it’s still pink.

    When I say completely, I meanB brain is a bit fried from making sense of the prescribed curriculum, and I forgot what students care about or what is mathematically important.

    First, show a video.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=koEfnIoZB_4

    In the first three seconds, students (and teachers in my workshop) gasp. They are hooked. Then, as a class, we discuss. “What do you think those guys were talking about as they drove out to the missile silo?”B Student comments followed:

    Will the rope break?
    Will the rope be long enough?
    Will anybody find my body before it freezes solid in the Russian wilderness?

    “Why not get a short rope?” I ask. “My wife doesn’t want my brain mushed out my ears, and I might just use a seat belt for this jump.”
    “Yeah, but that’s boring,” says Frankie. “Like, you wouldn’t have any fun.”
    “Ah, so I want a really long bungee, then.”
    “No!” Angelica jumps in. “Cuz if it’s too long, then you’ll hit the ground and die.”

    Boom. Constraints established. A bungee jump should be fun, yet safe.

    Like “Bear-Caging”, which is all the rage in British Columbia

    Students brought dolls, were grouped into twos and threes, and did trials at three heights to find the maximum jump that was still safe. This was a change from last year, when students did three trials at five heights (a luxury from 90-minute periods that 55-minute periods do not afford).

    It pained me to delete my beautiful table from previous years (attachment here), and even as I did it, something about the new lab sheetB felt … lacking.

    It wasn’t until my math coach came to visit (and I felt a bit self-conscious) that I realized what was missing:

    The Point.

    It was a fun activity with no point (just as before), except that now, I had stuck it in the middle of a unit without crafting student tasks around a learning goal.

    The pink lab sheet and fun activity was just another disjointed set of operations with no attachment to the larger world of mathematics, the very thing I seek to avoid.

    I also try to avoid bears, but luckily, there’s a cage for that.

    I feel compelled here to note that Barbie Bungee does not fit into the adopted curriculum, but something like it would be necessary (more on that later).

    Math Coach burst into my class at lunch. “The big jump. That’s the point. They are gathering data to derive an equation to solve for the big height so Barbie doesn’t die. That’s your point.”

    IMG_2748 (1)

    Here’s the issue with that: with an error hovering around 15% (and no training on line of best fit), my students’ equations were all over the place. One group calculated they would need eight rubber bands to jump off the roof (when 58 inches required six), and the group next to them needed 100.

    Well, crap. I scrapped Bungee from that day.

    Monday morning, I weighed all the Barbies on a food scale. Taking one from each weight class outside, I recorded my own data points (more than three apiece), and dropped them into Desmos, which is fast-becoming my go-to device for concrete-izing when something is too abstract.

    BarbieBungeeDesmos1

    Click here for my Desmos graph.

    Now–one doll at a time–I call on students and move the sliders.

    “Marco, should the slope increase, decrease, or stay the same? Maria, should the y-intercept increase, decrease, or stay the same? Alex, should the slope…”

    Students were silent, every period, as they saw firsthand in real-time what it means to “increase the slope of a line”.

    Also, there was no “right answer”. You wanna move the y-intercept down? Fine. The next student might move it right back up.

    Can you imagine doing this by hand? Blech.

    Eventually, students agreed that the line of each weight class passed through the respective points (for the most part), andB we dropped the slider values into an equation for the number of bungees needed (r) to jump a certain height (h).

    I passed out my Barbies to each group, and each Barbie matched up with an equation from a Barbie in a similar weight class.

    And--feminist that I am--I didn't use the term "weight class".
    And–feminist that I am–I didn’t use the term “weight class”.

    Micro-managey? Sure. But when you teach RSP 8th-graders, you can’t exactly have the free-flowing hippie class that Fawn does. I made the choice to limit minor errors, so I need only correct ones pertinent to this unit.

    Meaning I kept the long bungees from each period instead of waiting for groups to untie and re-tie them each period, and I labeled the legs of my Barbies, so they wouldn’t forget what her name was.

    Also, duct-tape dresses.

    A few minutes of calculating, a few more of tying rubber bands, and we’re off to the races.

    Click to see video.

    We spent the most time discussing how to fit the line to the data and why.

    I’m okay with that.

    ~Matt “Middleweight” Vaudrey

  • The Myth of the Digital Native

    Attention, Administrators:

    "Yes?"
    “Yes?”

    I have some news.

    The term “Digital Native”, while creative, isn’t an accurate representation of young students.

    Because I liked being included as a “Digital Immigrant” (an equally cute term), I bought into the idea, but I’ve been less and less convinced lately.

    Partly because of the description: A digital native is a person born into today’s digital culture, who takes to it naturally, as a duck to water.

    Network Management
    Network Configuration

    Even hearing it phrased like that begs the question: Do students actually take to technology easier, faster, or more often than their aged counterparts?

    "Oh, I just use it to text and hammer nails."
    “Oh, I just use it to text and hammer nails.”

    Nope.

    Not even a little.

    Sure, my younger sisters can text like it’s their job, and my students are really good at Minecraft,

    Like, really, suspiciously good at Minecraft.
    Like, really, suspiciously good at Minecraft.

    but when it comes to tackling foreign territory, they are just as confused and lost as everybody else. Often, more so; they lack the reasoning skills to seek the likely solution to their problem.

    This week, myB Pad students were floored when I showed them satellite view in Google Maps. It took us 20 minutes to get walking directions from their house to the school. Setting up new iPads takes two hours at the beginning of the year.

    Teachers, however, are more likely to realize that after they’ve joined a wireless network, they can click DONE to move on to the next screen. No less than 15 students ask me “Now what do I do?” during iPad setup.

    YOU JUS... hmm... Just click where it says "Done".
    YOU JUS… hmm… Just click where it says “Done”.

    So, Administrators: if you use the term “digital native” with a teacher who deals with young people and technology, they’ll likely raise an eyebrow.

    UPDATE 10 FEBRUARY 2015: Today, I was talking with a teacher about this very thing, we decided that a child born near the beach doesn’t necessarily learn how to swim quicker, but is more likely to beB exposed to the water.

    ~Matt “Dual Citizenship” Vaudrey

  • The Case for Merit Pay

    It’s most often tenured teachers who have the most surprised reaction when we talk about this. It often starts when our conversations steers close to the issue, and I drop this bomb.

    “I’d happily give up Tenure for Merit Pay.”

    Eyes widen. Jaws slacken. Palms sweat and buns fidget. “Why’s that?” they ask.

    Here’s why:

    There’s a teacher at my school who I watched yell at his kids for not lining up correctly before the bell.
    For ten minutes.
    He also has them copy three pages of notes per section by hand, and that’s theB onlyB way he teaches.
    He gets paid more than me.

     

     

    This teacher and I have never spoken, and I don’t pretend to judge him based solely on hearsay, but — and I say this without a shred of shame — you’d be hard pressed to find two examples in my class of teaching that bad.

    John and I discussed this briefly in the car on the way back from La CucinaB this weekend. He pushed back, saying (and I agree) that “teacher ranking needs to be rock-solid”.

    Definitely. Let’s go there. There are eight measuresB (so far) of teacher effectiveness, they are, in no order:

    1.) Student test scores – Yeah, okay. They areB a measure. One criterion. No denying that.

    2.) Parent Survey – this would definitely encourage me to make more parent contact.

    3.) Units after Bachelor’s degree – Objective and easily verified.

    4.) Student Survey – arguably the best judge of teacher effectiveness, students should have significant voice in what makes a good teacher. I createdB my own listB and I have them grade me two or three times a year. (Then blogged about itB here.)

    5.) Peer Observations – You know who else does a good job of judging teacher effectiveness? Other teachers.

    6.) Administrator Observations – You know who does a slightly less-good job? Some administrators. Mine are awesome at this, though.

    Potentially problematic ways to analyze teacher effectiveness:

    7.) Conference and Workshop Attendance – How do you verify what a workshop is?

    8.) Student Grades – Uh oh. How do you make sure that each teacher grades the same way on the same assignments?

    Anyway, I don’t claim to have the answer, but I have a response to the question.

    ~Matt “Teachers Could Make $100K a Year” Vaudrey