My Spanish classes still don't look like I think they should, and I feel like I've really lost focus on what matters to me as a teacher. I'm getting bogged down in defining activities, reinforcing behavior, etc., and have let go the act of teaching Spanish. Much more of my outside-of-class time should be spent planning units, designing learning activities, aligning assessments to learning goals, etc., and rather less spent designing school-wide and classroom behavior support systems. The question I need to answer is: When my students are behaving the way I expect them to, and when I have everything planned out, what is it my students are actually doing? And the corollary question--How do I get from where I am to that place?
The short version, of course, is that when the plans go as planned, the students are speaking Spanish. All of my "more structure to class" activities are intended to make this easier to achieve. When the students know what they're supposed to be doing all the time, the supposition goes, it won't matter what language I'm speaking to them in. And more Spanish is more good. Better. You know. Once classroom structures are in place, I continue to think, and once students know how to refer to them in Spanish, then it becomes easier to conduct everything else in Spanish.
What I think I'm missing, though, is two key pieces. First, my students still see no reason to learn Spanish, so I have to give them a "why." Second, of all the structures I've built and designed and stolen and taught, I'm not sure my students understand the process of learning a new language, so I have to give them a "how." I know I do this all the time, but my students are almost universally frustrated by the process of learning new vocabulary, and forget it almost immediately. They are not yet taking responsibility for their own learning, and I haven't yet figured out how to inspire them.
It feels like I keep tripping over this same dot on the floor. Any thoughts?
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Happy New Year! Things done, and things yet to do
Well, that's 2009 down. (In my mental calendar, it's not so much one year--2009--as half of SY 2008-09 and half of SY 2009-10.) And as always, it's worth reflecting on the successes of the year. In accordance with tradition, these reflections will take the form of a top ten list.
TOP TEN MOMENTS OF 2009
10. I began my 4th year of teaching--I'm no longer officially a rookie! Now, all I need is for my craft to show that.
9. SY 2008-09 was our first full year of Positive Behavior Support. The students have strong opinions about it. Very strong.
8. I modeled literary analysis for my sophomores by ripping Twilight a new one. A good time was had by all. (Later I made it clear that reading anything was better than reading nothing.)
7. We've formed a professional learning community at school. After 10 meetings, we're just about ready to stop complaining and get down to business.
6. I wrote more on this blog last year than in the previous two years combined, and increased my readership by 50%. Now 3 people read it.
5. The professional development days. SOOO many professional development days. If I'd done this much work on applied behavior analysis in college, I'd have my minor in psychology.
4. I reorganized my curriculum. Again. Only not really. Again. Still, it's better than it was, in the same way that a lean-to shed provides better protection from the elements than a pile of sticks.
3. For the school's winter assembly, 5 of my co-workers and I walked like Egyptians, while 4 others showed off their entirely too-good Bangles impersonations. Later research suggested that most Egyptians don't actually walk like that, and probably dance better.
2. One of my students of bygone years--one of the ones I never thought liked my class very much-- came into my classroom wearing some amazing pajama pants. He said to the class, "These are pantalones en español. ¿Te gustan mis pantalones?" Grinning from ear to ear, he waltzed back out.
And the number 1 moment of 2009 in school-related topics was.... (brrrrmmmmmm.....)
Working with the Amazing Staff and Oft-Imitated, Ne'er-Duplicated Students at our school. You're the reason I keep getting out of bed at 5 AM, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Happy New Year, all! (I'll leave the "things left to do" in the title for a later post. I'm too busy doing some of them right now.)
TOP TEN MOMENTS OF 2009
10. I began my 4th year of teaching--I'm no longer officially a rookie! Now, all I need is for my craft to show that.
9. SY 2008-09 was our first full year of Positive Behavior Support. The students have strong opinions about it. Very strong.
8. I modeled literary analysis for my sophomores by ripping Twilight a new one. A good time was had by all. (Later I made it clear that reading anything was better than reading nothing.)
7. We've formed a professional learning community at school. After 10 meetings, we're just about ready to stop complaining and get down to business.
6. I wrote more on this blog last year than in the previous two years combined, and increased my readership by 50%. Now 3 people read it.
5. The professional development days. SOOO many professional development days. If I'd done this much work on applied behavior analysis in college, I'd have my minor in psychology.
4. I reorganized my curriculum. Again. Only not really. Again. Still, it's better than it was, in the same way that a lean-to shed provides better protection from the elements than a pile of sticks.
3. For the school's winter assembly, 5 of my co-workers and I walked like Egyptians, while 4 others showed off their entirely too-good Bangles impersonations. Later research suggested that most Egyptians don't actually walk like that, and probably dance better.
2. One of my students of bygone years--one of the ones I never thought liked my class very much-- came into my classroom wearing some amazing pajama pants. He said to the class, "These are pantalones en español. ¿Te gustan mis pantalones?" Grinning from ear to ear, he waltzed back out.
And the number 1 moment of 2009 in school-related topics was.... (brrrrmmmmmm.....)
Working with the Amazing Staff and Oft-Imitated, Ne'er-Duplicated Students at our school. You're the reason I keep getting out of bed at 5 AM, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Happy New Year, all! (I'll leave the "things left to do" in the title for a later post. I'm too busy doing some of them right now.)
Saturday, January 2, 2010
"So, what do you do in Spanish class?" (2 of 2)
Different kinds of activities and their educational value
This is a messy kind of post. It's the blog post equivalent of tearing everything out of your closet and shelves and throwing it in heaps on your bed and on the floor, as you install a new closet shelving system and re-organize everything you've just been cramming anywhere they'd fit for the last 3 1/2 years.
The heaps I'm going to try to throw things in look like this:
A.) Kind of activity. These, hopefully, will be broad descriptions of the sorts of things we do in Spanish class. Refinements to come as necessary.
B.) Chunk, chew, or check? Are these activities' primary value as a tool for presenting new information (chunk), as a way of processing or practicing information (chew), or as an assessment tool (check)? This is directly from Kathleen Kryza's work on co-teaching (and, indirectly, differentiated instruction) with our ISD, and thus probably from one of the several books written by Kryza, Duncan, and Stevens.
C.) Outcome, engagement, and materials. These are 3 of the 6 qualities from the last blog post. The others are less activity-specific, so I shouldn't need to include them for each activity.
A.) PAIRED and SMALL-GROUP SPEAKING ACTIVITIES. Examples: Information-gap activities, interviews, ask-and-answer sessions, etc.
Initial thoughts: This is the kind of activity where my thinking most needs clarification. I do these spontaneously all the time, and so they're probably the least structured.
B.) Chew [check]. Done with each other, they're definitely chew activities. So they require some prep work first; namely, how and why to say what they're to be saying.
C.) Outcome: Students will have the experience of performing the communicative task. In addition, some will result in new content knowledge, others will have a written element to them. In the tasks that have no written or drawn component, an oral checkout of some kind becomes necessary.
Engagement: Students are speaking in Spanish, trying out new words, asking questions, writing information as it becomes available or necessary.
Materials: Teacher-provided handouts, self-generated information, paper, pencil, etc.
2A.) WRITING CONVERSATIONS. Examples--passing notes, threaded on-line discussions (i.e., Moodle), instant messaging, text messages.
Initial thoughts: I have never, to my shame, done one of the technologically based activities. The reasons for this include a lot of bad reasons involving time management and my capacity for building online classes.
B.) Chew (check). Just like spoken conversations, these are mostly a chance for students to mount up on their new vocabulary and take it out for a test drive. It can also be used as a formative assessment--I would hesitate to use it as a summative assessment, though.
More of this in a future post. I know it says 2 of 2 in the title, and need to be getting on with my day, but I'm not done with the topic, so more to come.
This is a messy kind of post. It's the blog post equivalent of tearing everything out of your closet and shelves and throwing it in heaps on your bed and on the floor, as you install a new closet shelving system and re-organize everything you've just been cramming anywhere they'd fit for the last 3 1/2 years.
The heaps I'm going to try to throw things in look like this:
A.) Kind of activity. These, hopefully, will be broad descriptions of the sorts of things we do in Spanish class. Refinements to come as necessary.
B.) Chunk, chew, or check? Are these activities' primary value as a tool for presenting new information (chunk), as a way of processing or practicing information (chew), or as an assessment tool (check)? This is directly from Kathleen Kryza's work on co-teaching (and, indirectly, differentiated instruction) with our ISD, and thus probably from one of the several books written by Kryza, Duncan, and Stevens.
C.) Outcome, engagement, and materials. These are 3 of the 6 qualities from the last blog post. The others are less activity-specific, so I shouldn't need to include them for each activity.
A.) PAIRED and SMALL-GROUP SPEAKING ACTIVITIES. Examples: Information-gap activities, interviews, ask-and-answer sessions, etc.
Initial thoughts: This is the kind of activity where my thinking most needs clarification. I do these spontaneously all the time, and so they're probably the least structured.
B.) Chew [check]. Done with each other, they're definitely chew activities. So they require some prep work first; namely, how and why to say what they're to be saying.
C.) Outcome: Students will have the experience of performing the communicative task. In addition, some will result in new content knowledge, others will have a written element to them. In the tasks that have no written or drawn component, an oral checkout of some kind becomes necessary.
Engagement: Students are speaking in Spanish, trying out new words, asking questions, writing information as it becomes available or necessary.
Materials: Teacher-provided handouts, self-generated information, paper, pencil, etc.
2A.) WRITING CONVERSATIONS. Examples--passing notes, threaded on-line discussions (i.e., Moodle), instant messaging, text messages.
Initial thoughts: I have never, to my shame, done one of the technologically based activities. The reasons for this include a lot of bad reasons involving time management and my capacity for building online classes.
B.) Chew (check). Just like spoken conversations, these are mostly a chance for students to mount up on their new vocabulary and take it out for a test drive. It can also be used as a formative assessment--I would hesitate to use it as a summative assessment, though.
More of this in a future post. I know it says 2 of 2 in the title, and need to be getting on with my day, but I'm not done with the topic, so more to come.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
"So, what do you do in Spanish class?" (1 of 2)
Categories of classroom activities
At the last MiBLSi conference I went to--actually a coaches' meeting, which I wouldn't normally attend--some of the local experts shared a lot of techniques on how to work with our peers on classroom management techniques. The title of the meeting was probably something like "Coaching teachers," in fact. At the meeting, one of the tools they shared was a "classroom behavior" matrix. It looks just like the school-wide behavior matrix, but instead of different locations, the up-and-down categories are different kinds of classroom activities. (If I can find the example they showed online, and I figure out how to cite it properly, I'll try to post it here.)
Doing this had only begun to start to commence to consider crossing my mind at the end of August. At that time, I resisted the idea--"we do SO MANY different types of activities in Spanish class," I told myself, "that putting them into few enough categories to be meaningful would be impossible." Then, I ran out of prep time (read: summer vacation) and started teaching again. The idea was quickly forgotten--"besides," I thought, "I have a whole summer planning and practicing an improved version of my classroom management system; surely this year will be better than last year."
Well, fair enough, but when the idea of a classroom activity behavior matrix came up again, I was supremely intrigued. But what sort of categories would classroom activities fit into? How do you take all of the multiple intelligences, and varied interests, and differentiated levels of activities, and put them into categories? And not just any categories--the categories, I'm thinking, should have the following characteristics:
1.) They should be specific enough to be meaningful. I don't think "Vocabulary practice" will be specific enough, although I reserve the right to change my mind.
2.) They should be general enough that 5 or 6 of them should describe the vast majority of on-task classroom time. "Flyswatter game" carries its own special rule set, but doesn't necessarily belong here.
3.) They should (obviously) increase transparency of the workings of the classroom--that's the whole point in defining things, to take the mystery and guesswork out of it. This will help the students know what is expected of them, and help the teacher know which set of rules everybody's playing by at any given time.
The sample they gave us (man, I wish I could find it online! Well, maybe I'll end up reproducing the hard copy they gave us) had such things as "Beginning class," "Individual practice," "Small-group practice," "Whole class practice," "Instruction," and "Leaving class." Maybe these are good enough, but I have my doubts--there are different kinds of practice, the variety of activities really IS tremendous, etc. But following the "Ready! Fire! Aim!" philosophy I'm trying with good practice, I'm going to make a sample matrix, using these as activities.
Before doing all of this, a teacher has his or her classroom rules. (Or you could tie them into school-wide expectations.) And the matrix shows how students behave during each kind of activity for each rule or behavior expectation. So, using the categories above, mine might look something like this:
Expectations (top row): Use your languages respectfully / Use classroom materials appropriately / Stay on task.
Categories (first column): Beginning of class / Whole class instruction / Paired- and small-group / Individual Practice / Ending of Class
And then the intersections of the rows and the columns would contain more specific descriptions of behaviors for each of these categories.
In part 2 of this post, I'll take some of the commoner activities we do in Spanish class, and figure out (1) how they fit into this schema, and (2) where on the chunk-chew-check / I do-we do-you do forms that Kathleen Kryza has been talking to us about.
NB. As I type this, I'm left with the vague impression that this specific technique is out of Randy Sprick's Safe and Civil Schools series. I'll look through such materials as I have access to, and if I can find it, I'll give credit where credit is due, and let the expert show you what I'm trying to tell you. Also, in my mind there were specific categories that went along with it.
Update, 2 Jan: I found the classroom behavior expectation matrix in the handouts. It comes without citation, and 2 minutes' Googling didn't come up with it. (I did find another example, from Best Behavior from Sprague and Golly.) The categories I was trying to remember earlier: Outcomes, what you have to have done at the end of the activity; Voice, how loud you can talk and what about; Help, how to get help from the teacher and your classmates; Movement, how, when and why to move around and out of the room; Engagement, how and how much to interact with the materials; and Materials, which materials to use, and how to get and use your pencils and whatnot.
Also updated to fix some formatting.
Update 2: I found the source of the matrix, and it was Sprick. CHAMPS is an acronym for Conversation (can the students talk or not? when? how? with whom? what about?), Help (how do students get their questions answered?), Activity (what is the task, and what is the end product?) Movement (Can students move? When? How? Where?), and Participation (what are students doing during this time?). This is paraphrased from p. 92 of Discipline in the secondary classroom by Sprick, 2006. The ones in the matrix I gave earlier are probably originals from one of the presenters I saw, based on Sprick's ideas.
At the last MiBLSi conference I went to--actually a coaches' meeting, which I wouldn't normally attend--some of the local experts shared a lot of techniques on how to work with our peers on classroom management techniques. The title of the meeting was probably something like "Coaching teachers," in fact. At the meeting, one of the tools they shared was a "classroom behavior" matrix. It looks just like the school-wide behavior matrix, but instead of different locations, the up-and-down categories are different kinds of classroom activities. (If I can find the example they showed online, and I figure out how to cite it properly, I'll try to post it here.)
Doing this had only begun to start to commence to consider crossing my mind at the end of August. At that time, I resisted the idea--"we do SO MANY different types of activities in Spanish class," I told myself, "that putting them into few enough categories to be meaningful would be impossible." Then, I ran out of prep time (read: summer vacation) and started teaching again. The idea was quickly forgotten--"besides," I thought, "I have a whole summer planning and practicing an improved version of my classroom management system; surely this year will be better than last year."
Well, fair enough, but when the idea of a classroom activity behavior matrix came up again, I was supremely intrigued. But what sort of categories would classroom activities fit into? How do you take all of the multiple intelligences, and varied interests, and differentiated levels of activities, and put them into categories? And not just any categories--the categories, I'm thinking, should have the following characteristics:
1.) They should be specific enough to be meaningful. I don't think "Vocabulary practice" will be specific enough, although I reserve the right to change my mind.
2.) They should be general enough that 5 or 6 of them should describe the vast majority of on-task classroom time. "Flyswatter game" carries its own special rule set, but doesn't necessarily belong here.
3.) They should (obviously) increase transparency of the workings of the classroom--that's the whole point in defining things, to take the mystery and guesswork out of it. This will help the students know what is expected of them, and help the teacher know which set of rules everybody's playing by at any given time.
The sample they gave us (man, I wish I could find it online! Well, maybe I'll end up reproducing the hard copy they gave us) had such things as "Beginning class," "Individual practice," "Small-group practice," "Whole class practice," "Instruction," and "Leaving class." Maybe these are good enough, but I have my doubts--there are different kinds of practice, the variety of activities really IS tremendous, etc. But following the "Ready! Fire! Aim!" philosophy I'm trying with good practice, I'm going to make a sample matrix, using these as activities.
Before doing all of this, a teacher has his or her classroom rules. (Or you could tie them into school-wide expectations.) And the matrix shows how students behave during each kind of activity for each rule or behavior expectation. So, using the categories above, mine might look something like this:
Expectations (top row): Use your languages respectfully / Use classroom materials appropriately / Stay on task.
Categories (first column): Beginning of class / Whole class instruction / Paired- and small-group / Individual Practice / Ending of Class
And then the intersections of the rows and the columns would contain more specific descriptions of behaviors for each of these categories.
In part 2 of this post, I'll take some of the commoner activities we do in Spanish class, and figure out (1) how they fit into this schema, and (2) where on the chunk-chew-check / I do-we do-you do forms that Kathleen Kryza has been talking to us about.
NB. As I type this, I'm left with the vague impression that this specific technique is out of Randy Sprick's Safe and Civil Schools series. I'll look through such materials as I have access to, and if I can find it, I'll give credit where credit is due, and let the expert show you what I'm trying to tell you. Also, in my mind there were specific categories that went along with it.
Update, 2 Jan: I found the classroom behavior expectation matrix in the handouts. It comes without citation, and 2 minutes' Googling didn't come up with it. (I did find another example, from Best Behavior from Sprague and Golly.) The categories I was trying to remember earlier: Outcomes, what you have to have done at the end of the activity; Voice, how loud you can talk and what about; Help, how to get help from the teacher and your classmates; Movement, how, when and why to move around and out of the room; Engagement, how and how much to interact with the materials; and Materials, which materials to use, and how to get and use your pencils and whatnot.
Also updated to fix some formatting.
Update 2: I found the source of the matrix, and it was Sprick. CHAMPS is an acronym for Conversation (can the students talk or not? when? how? with whom? what about?), Help (how do students get their questions answered?), Activity (what is the task, and what is the end product?) Movement (Can students move? When? How? Where?), and Participation (what are students doing during this time?). This is paraphrased from p. 92 of Discipline in the secondary classroom by Sprick, 2006. The ones in the matrix I gave earlier are probably originals from one of the presenters I saw, based on Sprick's ideas.
Monday, December 7, 2009
On the efficacy and limitations of praise
After the huge confessional of yesterday, something a little more lighthearted. Or maybe not, for you psychologists out there.
I don't like ties. I have my reasons. So I don't wear them if I can help it. The only exception to this is if I feel like I'm out of control of my teaching, like my best efforts have come to naught, like nothing I do really matters to learning outcomes. On those days I'll put on a tie--at least I can control what I'm wearing.
This morning, I did just that. I put on a tie with a holiday lights pattern woven into it. (I told you ties are tacky. UPDATE: Just re-read the post. I didn't actually say that--it was in the rant about why I don't like ties, which I deleted.) Throughout the day, I received compliments from students and staff alike about how dressed-up I looked, how nice I looked, and how surprising it was to see me in a tie. And it's true, the positive comments really did have an effect on me. I smiled a little inside. That was the efficacy of the praise.
Behaviorist theory predicts that because I received positive reinforcement for wearing the tie, I should be more inclined to wear ties in the future. But no--I still hate ties. That's the limitation
I don't like ties. I have my reasons. So I don't wear them if I can help it. The only exception to this is if I feel like I'm out of control of my teaching, like my best efforts have come to naught, like nothing I do really matters to learning outcomes. On those days I'll put on a tie--at least I can control what I'm wearing.
This morning, I did just that. I put on a tie with a holiday lights pattern woven into it. (I told you ties are tacky. UPDATE: Just re-read the post. I didn't actually say that--it was in the rant about why I don't like ties, which I deleted.) Throughout the day, I received compliments from students and staff alike about how dressed-up I looked, how nice I looked, and how surprising it was to see me in a tie. And it's true, the positive comments really did have an effect on me. I smiled a little inside. That was the efficacy of the praise.
Behaviorist theory predicts that because I received positive reinforcement for wearing the tie, I should be more inclined to wear ties in the future. But no--I still hate ties. That's the limitation
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Hard realities, harsh truths
I strongly considered keeping this journal entry away from public consumption. It's not going to be nice, it's not going to be pretty. It's going to be more questions than answers, and it's going to end in an admission that not only do I not know what the answers are, I'm not sure where to find them. It will probably meander through a forest of clichés, get lost in a swamp of self-pity, and just maybe begin to climb the mountain of self-awareness. If anyone ever read this, it might actually hurt my career. I've changed my mind, though, for three reasons. It's possible that somebody might read this and have an answer. It might be used as a model of reflection, self-awareness, and problem-solving. Besides, nobody's reading, anyway.
But we're going to start here: My students don't like my class. They're also not learning any Spanish.
I've taken a lot of courses this year, and they basically have two primary goals related to school: build a positive community of learners (school-wide positive behavior support and MiBLSi), and increase my capacity to improve my students' learning (everything else). It's become painfully clear to me that teaching is more about what you do than what you know, something I think that every good professional sort of knows already. To that end, every week or two, I try to add another element I've learned into my practice, work in a new or improved learning activity, or in some other way do something new to improve my students' learning. One every week or two is a small percentage of what I've learned, but it's a lot more sustainable than trying to pull something new in every day. But, sustainable or no, good practice or no, my students aren't learning Spanish.
They may be learning lots of things. I've started working in higher-order thinking skills. There's an element of social justice and a focus on cultures and comparisons I've never had before. All of these things are important components of a world languages class. I try to model civility, flexibility, stay-on-taskness, all important life skills. I try to have a sense of humor about the world in my place in it. But they're not learning to speak or understand Spanish.
I've over-focused both on the differences between a language class and other classes, and on the similarities. It's a neat trick, I know. Bear with me. The big differences between Spanish and, say, social studies go like this: When you leave social studies, you're supposed to know certain things about history and anthropology and such. Ideally, you've been taught how to think about social studies, and not simply that the Magna Carta was signed in 1776 by Grant and Lee at Woodstock. (Or whatever.) But you probably have to pick up those facts along the way in order to compare civil wars. (Studies show that in the breadth-of-content vs. depth-of-content debate, depth of content actually increases the breadth of content covered.) In Spanish class, you have to learn how to compare and make connections to languages and cultures, and use these in your communities. But if you can't perform some basic functions in the language, then you've missed half the content, and the part that most people think of as Spanish class. So, I've over-focused on the differences by ignoring useful planning techninques--big-picture questions, learning goals, and things like that, in order to build in language-practice time. I've also ignored the similarities in the need for vocabulary development techniques, but I have a reason for that--middle- and high-school students should deeply learn about 90 content-related words per class per year. If I wait that long for students to learn vocabulary, they'll never get anywhere.
In the past couple of years, my PD has focused on classroom management issues, and higher-order-thinking-skills issues. I've not had a whole lot of world language-specific training since becoming a full-time teacher. I'm not sure how important it would be to have such training--shouldn't I have a pretty good idea of what a Spanish class ought to look like? Well, in a few words, probably, but I don't. I loved learning Spanish, would happily sit and do work sheets based on pedagogical theory from the 17th century, thought that watching movies and slide shows and playing learning games were all pleasant distractions from the serious business of learning. To find that in fact they're an integral part of the learning process, and that failing to include them is one of the more-commonly cited reasons for dropping out of school, means I have little no personal paradigm for a good world language classroom. Below, a list of some of the assumptions I'm working off of, and where I feel I rank on those assumptions.
1.) I am a teacher. This means I teach students. My subject is Spanish, but that's almost incidental. What my students learn from me may well be something other than Spanish, but they should be learning from me. Since I am teaching Spanish, they should learn things like communication strategies, how to learn vocabulary, how to study a culture and live in it (in certain instances), things like that. As I alluded to above, I think I'm pretty good at teaching my students other things--it was once suggested to me that I'm more of a philosophy teacher than a Spanish teacher. This was simultaneously a great compliment (to me--a great insult to actual philosophy teachers), and a heartbreaking strike against my actual job.
2.) 1st-year Spanish classes should be conducted in Spanish, 80% or more of the time. After that, they should always be in Spanish. (I don't remember where I got the 80% number. If I find it, I'll cite my source later.) I'm not good at this. I speak maybe 10 minutes of Spanish in a 60-minute class. That's like 16%.
3.) In order to run a class entirely in Spanish, the students need to have a very strong sense of community, and an ability to self-direct their learning. These things do not happen by accident. I'm not great at this, either. I've focused really hard on making this happen on purpose, and it hasn't stuck as well as I'd hoped
4.) Early-level Spanish classes should focus on speaking communication, with reading and writing as support structures. I do this fairly well, in that we don't do that many writing activities without a fair amount of speaking to go along with it.
5.) Higher-order thinking skills and social justice are important elements of a world language class. I'm getting better at this, but I'm pretty sure I'm sacrificing the communication aspect of class to these goals.
The thing is that I'm not sure what I'm not doing right.
Why this post? Why now?
On Friday, Kris, our teacher coach, observed my 10th grade Spanish II class. It wasn't an unmitigated disaster, but I think it's fair to say that it was a disaster with few mitigations. I talked most of the hour, I did it in English, the board work was a review activity that took 15 minutes, we spent a lot of time going over classroom management issues. I didn't get on to new learning activities until the last 20 minutes of class or so, and even then it was a listening activity. The students didn't make it any secret of how bored they were.
This isn't the first time that happened, and every time they tell me this, I try to ramp up the next week's lesson plan. I'm guessing I just don't understand what my class is supposed to look like, or at least how to make it happen. This is disappointing. The last few years, I've started the school year very excited to get started on the work. The last few years, by the time winter break comes along, I'm demoralized, having performed tremendous amounts of work, seen no real benefit in either learning or classroom management, and with huge amounts of work (which should prove useful, but may well not) to do ahead of me.
So Kris has given me a few pointers, and I'm going to try them out this week. She started out by suggesting I re-think my board work activity. So we'll go from there. Hopefully, we can get me doing what I should have done all along. I suppose it's better that this happened now than after winter break; now I'll have time to implement a few changes and analyze them. (This blog post took over 3 hours, over the course of 2 days, to write. It takes some time. This one was obviously important, but I can't afford to do it all the time.)
But we're going to start here: My students don't like my class. They're also not learning any Spanish.
I've taken a lot of courses this year, and they basically have two primary goals related to school: build a positive community of learners (school-wide positive behavior support and MiBLSi), and increase my capacity to improve my students' learning (everything else). It's become painfully clear to me that teaching is more about what you do than what you know, something I think that every good professional sort of knows already. To that end, every week or two, I try to add another element I've learned into my practice, work in a new or improved learning activity, or in some other way do something new to improve my students' learning. One every week or two is a small percentage of what I've learned, but it's a lot more sustainable than trying to pull something new in every day. But, sustainable or no, good practice or no, my students aren't learning Spanish.
They may be learning lots of things. I've started working in higher-order thinking skills. There's an element of social justice and a focus on cultures and comparisons I've never had before. All of these things are important components of a world languages class. I try to model civility, flexibility, stay-on-taskness, all important life skills. I try to have a sense of humor about the world in my place in it. But they're not learning to speak or understand Spanish.
I've over-focused both on the differences between a language class and other classes, and on the similarities. It's a neat trick, I know. Bear with me. The big differences between Spanish and, say, social studies go like this: When you leave social studies, you're supposed to know certain things about history and anthropology and such. Ideally, you've been taught how to think about social studies, and not simply that the Magna Carta was signed in 1776 by Grant and Lee at Woodstock. (Or whatever.) But you probably have to pick up those facts along the way in order to compare civil wars. (Studies show that in the breadth-of-content vs. depth-of-content debate, depth of content actually increases the breadth of content covered.) In Spanish class, you have to learn how to compare and make connections to languages and cultures, and use these in your communities. But if you can't perform some basic functions in the language, then you've missed half the content, and the part that most people think of as Spanish class. So, I've over-focused on the differences by ignoring useful planning techninques--big-picture questions, learning goals, and things like that, in order to build in language-practice time. I've also ignored the similarities in the need for vocabulary development techniques, but I have a reason for that--middle- and high-school students should deeply learn about 90 content-related words per class per year. If I wait that long for students to learn vocabulary, they'll never get anywhere.
In the past couple of years, my PD has focused on classroom management issues, and higher-order-thinking-skills issues. I've not had a whole lot of world language-specific training since becoming a full-time teacher. I'm not sure how important it would be to have such training--shouldn't I have a pretty good idea of what a Spanish class ought to look like? Well, in a few words, probably, but I don't. I loved learning Spanish, would happily sit and do work sheets based on pedagogical theory from the 17th century, thought that watching movies and slide shows and playing learning games were all pleasant distractions from the serious business of learning. To find that in fact they're an integral part of the learning process, and that failing to include them is one of the more-commonly cited reasons for dropping out of school, means I have little no personal paradigm for a good world language classroom. Below, a list of some of the assumptions I'm working off of, and where I feel I rank on those assumptions.
1.) I am a teacher. This means I teach students. My subject is Spanish, but that's almost incidental. What my students learn from me may well be something other than Spanish, but they should be learning from me. Since I am teaching Spanish, they should learn things like communication strategies, how to learn vocabulary, how to study a culture and live in it (in certain instances), things like that. As I alluded to above, I think I'm pretty good at teaching my students other things--it was once suggested to me that I'm more of a philosophy teacher than a Spanish teacher. This was simultaneously a great compliment (to me--a great insult to actual philosophy teachers), and a heartbreaking strike against my actual job.
2.) 1st-year Spanish classes should be conducted in Spanish, 80% or more of the time. After that, they should always be in Spanish. (I don't remember where I got the 80% number. If I find it, I'll cite my source later.) I'm not good at this. I speak maybe 10 minutes of Spanish in a 60-minute class. That's like 16%.
3.) In order to run a class entirely in Spanish, the students need to have a very strong sense of community, and an ability to self-direct their learning. These things do not happen by accident. I'm not great at this, either. I've focused really hard on making this happen on purpose, and it hasn't stuck as well as I'd hoped
4.) Early-level Spanish classes should focus on speaking communication, with reading and writing as support structures. I do this fairly well, in that we don't do that many writing activities without a fair amount of speaking to go along with it.
5.) Higher-order thinking skills and social justice are important elements of a world language class. I'm getting better at this, but I'm pretty sure I'm sacrificing the communication aspect of class to these goals.
The thing is that I'm not sure what I'm not doing right.
Why this post? Why now?
On Friday, Kris, our teacher coach, observed my 10th grade Spanish II class. It wasn't an unmitigated disaster, but I think it's fair to say that it was a disaster with few mitigations. I talked most of the hour, I did it in English, the board work was a review activity that took 15 minutes, we spent a lot of time going over classroom management issues. I didn't get on to new learning activities until the last 20 minutes of class or so, and even then it was a listening activity. The students didn't make it any secret of how bored they were.
This isn't the first time that happened, and every time they tell me this, I try to ramp up the next week's lesson plan. I'm guessing I just don't understand what my class is supposed to look like, or at least how to make it happen. This is disappointing. The last few years, I've started the school year very excited to get started on the work. The last few years, by the time winter break comes along, I'm demoralized, having performed tremendous amounts of work, seen no real benefit in either learning or classroom management, and with huge amounts of work (which should prove useful, but may well not) to do ahead of me.
So Kris has given me a few pointers, and I'm going to try them out this week. She started out by suggesting I re-think my board work activity. So we'll go from there. Hopefully, we can get me doing what I should have done all along. I suppose it's better that this happened now than after winter break; now I'll have time to implement a few changes and analyze them. (This blog post took over 3 hours, over the course of 2 days, to write. It takes some time. This one was obviously important, but I can't afford to do it all the time.)
Sunday, November 29, 2009
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