Confession Time

I've had a lot of positive response to the "spoon pencil" strategy I've been using this year. (Thanks, Sam!)

I waited 8 weeks into the year before posting, just to make sure it was working well. This was the result at the end of the first quarter, and I couldn't wait to share the genius of it all.

But, I've been feeling a little guilty.  I think I need to confess the truth of my "genius" plan.

It doesn't work.

At the end of the second quarter, I replaced about half of the spoons and doubled the tape.

And here it is now, with four weeks left in the year:

On the positive side, my knife erasers fared much better. Five of the eight originals remain.

And the green fork pens?  Seven out of eight originals are still intact.

Still, I have enjoyed an entire year of not hearing "Mrs. Gruen, I forgot a pencil", or "Mrs. Gruen, do you have a BIG eraser?", or similar distress calls.

For next year, I have decided to step up my game with indestructible spoons:

If this doesn't work, I am attaching pencils to bricks.

I am not even kidding.

Visualizing Volumes

My calculus class is working on volumes of revolution. I have found that success with this particular topic is related to a student's ability to visualize in three dimensions. I always have a few who struggle with that.

Fast forward to last week. I was shopping, and I found these on clearance:

For decorative use only. I am such a rule-breaker.

I traced out the shape of the region I wanted to rotate.

Cut it out. Open it up. Voila!

You have to hold it a certain way or it will sort of fall apart, but I thought it was a nice visual and tactile representation of a volume of rotation.

This one fell apart when I opened it up. I learned that you have to make sure some of the original glue is left intact when you cut out your shape. I tried running a bead of glue along one side, but then it wouldn't open very well.

Another drawback is that the semi-circular shape of the original pieces is somewhat limiting. I am sure these must be made in other shapes? I am going to raid a party store before we get to this topic again next year.

Still, my students were really intrigued to see what would happen as we cut and unfolded each one.

This one turned out really nice:

Happy rotating!

April Fools!

This morning before school, two of the sweetest girls walk into my classroom to tell me they saw two boys (one of whom is my nephew) messing with my car. I knew there was some sort of late April Fools joke in the works, so I took the bait and hustled out to the parking lot to catch them in the act. Nothing. My car looks fine, so I return to my classroom to find that my nice comfy chair has been replaced with a bucket.

Well played, nephew and his friend. Well played.

The use of two innocent girls as accomplices was particularly brilliant.

As soon as I think of a very good prank, I am totally going to get even.

Everyone Failed (and What's Up With Probability?)

In a job interview, I was once asked how I would respond if my entire class did poorly on a test.

I answered that I would look for another way to teach the topic and re-assess the students, but I also said that this was an unlikely scenario in my classroom. I plan to know if my students are struggling (and do something about it) before a big test rolls around. Test scores rarely surprise me . . . until recently.

I had an all-class fail. The words "all-class" and "fail" are a bit of an exaggeration, but the majority of my students scored below an 80% with lots of failing grades. Ugh.

I am content with how I navigated the aftermath. Now I am just thinking about how to avoid the entire scenario in the future. Here is what I have learned:

1.  It is never okay to skip some type of formative assessment. I was in a rush for part of the unit, and I relied way too much on facial expressions and nodding heads and trusted that the students were understanding.

2.  Adjust for extra time with wacky schedules. We had a weird week with in-service and parent-teacher conferences right in the middle of this unit. I saw my students one full day and two half days for that entire week. I kept plowing through.

3.  The importance of #1 doubles if it is your first time teaching a topic. I rarely teach any topics that I haven't taught before. This unit was 100% from scratch. Planning was a struggle. I had no reference point for knowing which parts would be difficult for students, what common errors would occur, and such.

Finally, what's up with probability?


Is the whole permutation/combination/probability thing just really hard to teach? It seems innocent enough on the surface, but I am now convinced of its underlying evil.

Next time will be better, I'm sure.

NOOOOOO!!!

I got some very sad news this morning. My friend and fellow math teacher might be leaving our school. Her husband (journalism teacher, also in our school) has accepted an administrative job, and they'll be moving. They are looking at options for her, including that she might commute from their new location. She is a great teacher, and I am sure some lucky/closer school will snatch her up when they have an opening. I am afraid it is just a matter of time.

I am happy for the two of them, I really am.

But now I am sitting here with a million things to do and all I can think about is how sad I am.

Colleagues make a huge difference in the quality and enjoyment of your work, don't they?

I can list a hundred reasons why I'll hate to see them go.

So. Very. Sad. For. Us.

In related news, a beautiful newly built school in Tiny Town, Kansas with an award-winning journalism department will be needing a new teacher.

And I might be needing a new math teacher colleague. But not yet.

I'll be in denial for as long as possible.

Teaching Them to Persevere

My name is Amy, and I have been an overly helpful teacher. I will admit that the first-year version of myself took a lot of satisfaction in being able to explain something so well that no one had any questions.

Even now, I still have to fight the urge to rush in and save the day whenever my students are showing signs of distress. And it works both ways. My students expect me to rescue them. When I throw something overly challenging at them, they freak out. Panic. Even shut down.

I just want them to try something. Anything. Just play with it. Think about it. Make an effort.

In order for a culture shift to happen in my classroom, we have to take baby steps.

Here is what I've been trying lately, and students have been responding really well:

First of all, I've been trying to present the most challenging of problems in class rather than sending them for homework. For now, students need to know they have a safety net.

I begin by saying something like, "Guys, I could stand up here and do this for you, but you already know how to copy stuff. You're going to learn a lot more if you struggle with it yourself first."

I set a time limit, so they know I will not leave them flailing indefinitely.

I expect them to try something, anything.

I walk around the room to monitor progress. I try not to say too much. I must resist my natural urge to throw out life preservers.

Once most everyone has something on paper, I go ahead and silently write something on the board. A hint. A first step. Something. Most of the students will already be there, a few will go "oh, yeah", and erase/adjust what they have on their paper.

I give more time, then another step or hint. Repeat as needed.

By the time we are done, I am amazed by how many students have been able to stay a few steps ahead of me. Of those that got stuck along the way, many just had minor errors that they were able to fix by looking at my hints and then continue on their own.

The more I do this, the more students are seeing the value in diving in without me. There was actually a moment when I started to work out a challenging problem in front of the class and someone says, "Hey, can we try this one ourselves first"?  Of course you can. What was I thinking? (Inside, I'm doing a victory dance!)

Maybe I am training myself as much as the students.

Baby steps.

Green Pen is the New High Five

Backstory #1:  I am trying a new bell work procedure this year. In short, I walk around the room with a handful of green fork pens. When someone finishes the bell work correctly, they get a green star and a green pen. Now they are qualified to coach and star papers for other students, and so on, until everyone is done.

Backstory #2:  I had an interesting conversation with a colleague recently. She mentioned that our German exchange student is used to finishing his work early. In Germany, he was always expected to help students who were still working. He observed that we don't do that much in our school. I rarely have students with nothing to do, but it made me think about how to more intentionally utilize students who "get it" to assist those who are struggling.

Fast forward to yesterday . . . My students were working on word problems.

I told students to do just one problem, and raise their hand to check it with me. In my mind, I was thinking that I wanted to make sure everyone was on the right track before moving on. But I had nothing else for them to do when they finished. Some were struggling away, and others were finished, twiddling thumbs, and otherwise disengaging.

In my head I was reminding myself . . . Always, ALWAYS, have something for next.

Then, light bulb! It occurs to me that my little green pen bell work procedure would be perfect for more than just bell work.

I picked up my supply of green fork pens and walked around the room answering questions as usual. When someone finished I gave them a green star and a green pen and the instructions -- "Now, look for someone (near you) who could use your help". They already knew what to do, since we've been doing this routine for bell work. Some of them amazed me with their ability to help someone else. I was helping one student when I saw another hand go up, so I directed someone with a green pen to head over there. I overheard the green pen student helping the other one find the mistake. I couldn't believe I was just going to have them sit there doing nothing for a few minutes while I ran around like a crazy person trying to answer all these questions and check all these papers.

I have tried to create a classroom culture of students coaching other students. I have my desks arranged in partners, and I talk about how everyone in the room is a teacher. Students are encouraged to ask their partner a question before me. Still, I have some students who are reluctant to request help from the person sitting next to them and other students who prefer not to be bothered.

I realized yesterday that I need to give students specific opportunities to coach someone else, and specific instructions on how to do so. What if completing a problem and checking in with your neighbor became the norm? I also discovered that my more advanced students are so much happier and more willing to help someone else AFTER they have had an opportunity to complete the problem on their own.

As an extra bonus, I also learned that the green pen has sort of become a status symbol of accomplishment in my classroom. Handing a student a green pen is a pat on the back, a passing of the baton, a rite of passage in the form of a writing utensil.

I hope to keep an eye out for students who never get a green pen in their hands and try to make it happen. I saw a struggling student light up yesterday when I handed him a green pen. "I've never gotten a green pen", he said. Sometimes it is the smallest things . . .