I am a fan of anything cooperative, as long as it is structured in such a way that everyone participates. I spent a lot of time last year seeking out new cooperative practice ideas and trying them out.
I am an even bigger fan of partner cooperation. There is something about a group of three or four that makes me feel like someone is probably getting lost in the interaction. When you are working with a partner, you are directly accountable to one other person. I even have my students seated as partners.
I learned my favorite partner practice from another teacher in my grad program a few years ago. I found out later that it is a Kagan cooperative learning structure called boss/secretary.
Student 1, Boss: This student's job is to watch and tell. Student tells how to solve the problem, and describes each step with enough detail that the partner can get it written down. This student should be talking and watching, but not writing.
Student 2, Secretary: This student's job is to listen and write. Student writes down the solution as the partner describes it. This student should be writing but not talking. The exception is if the partner gets stuck or makes a mistake. Then the student can coach and assist with the solving.
What I like about boss/secretary: It can be done at any time at the drop of the hat. It can also last for any length of time. I will often stop in the middle of a lesson and check for understanding this way. I will just throw out two problems and tell the person sitting on the right (or wearing the most green, or the biggest feet, or the oldest . . .) to be solver of the first problem and then switch roles. I also just used it for a unit review that lasted a whole class period. We used white boards and I signed off on each section as it was completed.
What I don't like: Students have to stick to their roles in order for it to be a meaningful interaction. I have seen students who are responsible for listening take charge of the problem, or students who are in charge of talking to take a passive role. It is helpful to have students switch roles with every problem.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
I Need Adventure (also my trial run of Solve, Crumple, Toss)
Yesterday I tried another goodie from f(t) . . . Solve, Crumple, Toss. Just in case you've never read that post, make sure you read the part about how you should use "6-8 problems with somewhat lengthy solutions". I either skipped or disregarded that part of the description, and it was the downfall of the day.
My students are working on writing linear equations in standard form, given different types of information. I just printed up twelve problems, six per page. Students cut them apart, worked them out (one at a time) and brought them to me to check. If all was dandy, then they got to take a shot for points. If not, I sent them on their way to keep trying and encouraged partners to check each other's wrong answers and help find the errors. I had no time to coach and help find errors myself, because I had a line of students waiting for me to check their answers. I expected them to finish all twelve problems and make twelve shots. Fine as long as I have a student shooting, like, every eleven seconds. Note to self: Fewer, more complex problems next time!!!
The student response ranged from a few who acted totally tortured because they had to get up out of their seat twelve times, all the way to enthusiastic participation by many. This was fun and productive, and there will definitely be a next time.
In related news, I realized how much more I enjoy my job when I am trying something new. I have been teaching the same classes in the same school for 6 years now, so it is super easy to just pull out what I did last year and do it again. I don't want to take that approach to teaching, so I am always looking for ways to improve on what I have already done. Still, I think my best lessons are the ones that I create from scratch with a fresh perspective.
So today I am just thinking about the payoff for extra time spent trying something new. Sometimes these things work, and sometimes they don't. Still, I am happiest when I am being adventurous.
My students are working on writing linear equations in standard form, given different types of information. I just printed up twelve problems, six per page. Students cut them apart, worked them out (one at a time) and brought them to me to check. If all was dandy, then they got to take a shot for points. If not, I sent them on their way to keep trying and encouraged partners to check each other's wrong answers and help find the errors. I had no time to coach and help find errors myself, because I had a line of students waiting for me to check their answers. I expected them to finish all twelve problems and make twelve shots. Fine as long as I have a student shooting, like, every eleven seconds. Note to self: Fewer, more complex problems next time!!!
The student response ranged from a few who acted totally tortured because they had to get up out of their seat twelve times, all the way to enthusiastic participation by many. This was fun and productive, and there will definitely be a next time.
In related news, I realized how much more I enjoy my job when I am trying something new. I have been teaching the same classes in the same school for 6 years now, so it is super easy to just pull out what I did last year and do it again. I don't want to take that approach to teaching, so I am always looking for ways to improve on what I have already done. Still, I think my best lessons are the ones that I create from scratch with a fresh perspective.
So today I am just thinking about the payoff for extra time spent trying something new. Sometimes these things work, and sometimes they don't. Still, I am happiest when I am being adventurous.
Monday, September 12, 2011
I Stopped Answering Questions
Not really . . . but I did stop using 10-15 minutes at the beginning of class to discuss and answer questions on the previous day's assignment.
Initially, it was an experiment. I felt like students weren't really invested in this time, and that most of them were falling into one of four categories:
1. The procrastinators: These students were using this time to finish the assignment.
2. The ones who lacked perseverance: These students would encounter a challenging problem and then stop working on it (or not even attempt it in the first place) because they could just "ask about it in class".
3. The ones who were really engaged: Most days, it felt like maybe 2 kids.
4. The ones who were bored: These students had the assignment finished and were ready to move on to a new lesson.
So I stopped spending time on questions. (My students have answers, so they can check for correctness as they practice). And this is what happened:
1. Most of the procrastinators found a time to finish the assignment before class.
2. Many more students persevered through challenging problems because they didn't have the crutch of asking about it later.
3. Many with legitimate questions would drop by before school to ask. Most of our students arrive 30 minutes before first bell, so this works well at our school.
4. Most everyone started finishing the assignment outside of class.
These outcomes alone were enough for me to turn my experiment into a permanent routine, but there was another benefit that I wasn't expecting . . . I suddenly had an extra 10 - 15 minutes in every class period. What can you do with an extra 10 - 15 minutes?! Here's how I use the extra time:
I use a few bell work problems every day (I am testing out a new bell work strategy, more on that later) to review and check for understanding. If there are any major misconceptions, I can usually identify and address them during this time.
While teaching a new lesson, I have a lot more time for practice and checking for understanding. I still do a lot of talking, but I also do a lot of pausing while students try this or that and check with me (or a partner). I have time to work in several mini-formative checks, and address common misconceptions. The result is fewer issues on the practice/assignment, which in turn further reduces the need for the question/discussion time at the beginning of class the next day.
Sometimes I still wonder if I should bring back the question time, structured differently to eliminate the problems I was having. I haven't done this because I don't miss it. And neither do my students. I realized today that in 2 or 3 years, I haven't had a single student complain about why I don't answer questions at the beginning of class.
Initially, it was an experiment. I felt like students weren't really invested in this time, and that most of them were falling into one of four categories:
1. The procrastinators: These students were using this time to finish the assignment.
2. The ones who lacked perseverance: These students would encounter a challenging problem and then stop working on it (or not even attempt it in the first place) because they could just "ask about it in class".
3. The ones who were really engaged: Most days, it felt like maybe 2 kids.
4. The ones who were bored: These students had the assignment finished and were ready to move on to a new lesson.
So I stopped spending time on questions. (My students have answers, so they can check for correctness as they practice). And this is what happened:
1. Most of the procrastinators found a time to finish the assignment before class.
2. Many more students persevered through challenging problems because they didn't have the crutch of asking about it later.
3. Many with legitimate questions would drop by before school to ask. Most of our students arrive 30 minutes before first bell, so this works well at our school.
4. Most everyone started finishing the assignment outside of class.
These outcomes alone were enough for me to turn my experiment into a permanent routine, but there was another benefit that I wasn't expecting . . . I suddenly had an extra 10 - 15 minutes in every class period. What can you do with an extra 10 - 15 minutes?! Here's how I use the extra time:
I use a few bell work problems every day (I am testing out a new bell work strategy, more on that later) to review and check for understanding. If there are any major misconceptions, I can usually identify and address them during this time.
While teaching a new lesson, I have a lot more time for practice and checking for understanding. I still do a lot of talking, but I also do a lot of pausing while students try this or that and check with me (or a partner). I have time to work in several mini-formative checks, and address common misconceptions. The result is fewer issues on the practice/assignment, which in turn further reduces the need for the question/discussion time at the beginning of class the next day.
Sometimes I still wonder if I should bring back the question time, structured differently to eliminate the problems I was having. I haven't done this because I don't miss it. And neither do my students. I realized today that in 2 or 3 years, I haven't had a single student complain about why I don't answer questions at the beginning of class.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Missing the Point
Recently, I wrote about my system for assigning practice. I give students an answer bank with every assignment so that they can find mistakes and revise their work.
I know why I do it this way. The purpose of these assignments is practice, so I want to give them feedback while they are working. I want students to keep practicing until they are doing it correctly. I want them to learn from their mistakes.
We have only been in school for 8 days, but I have spent a lot of time trying to communicate this to students. I keep getting responses that tell me students don't really get it, like these:
1. Extreme excitement, because having the answers feels like legalized cheating.
2. Confusion (usually from the high achieving students), because they don't think it is fair that everyone has an equal chance of getting all the answers right.
3. Resistance, from students who feel like it is pointless to show their process since they already know the answer.
Practice is a process, dear students! I will assess you soon, I promise.
I am not sure how I can help my precious Algebra 2 students to understand.
It seems obvious (but not all inclusive) to use some sort of sports analogy: If you are learning a new football play and you totally mess it up, the coach doesn't mark a D- in the grade book and call it a day, does he? No, he doesn't. He sends you back out there to try it again until you get it right.
That is all I have for now . . . I am going to keep working on it.
I know why I do it this way. The purpose of these assignments is practice, so I want to give them feedback while they are working. I want students to keep practicing until they are doing it correctly. I want them to learn from their mistakes.
We have only been in school for 8 days, but I have spent a lot of time trying to communicate this to students. I keep getting responses that tell me students don't really get it, like these:
1. Extreme excitement, because having the answers feels like legalized cheating.
2. Confusion (usually from the high achieving students), because they don't think it is fair that everyone has an equal chance of getting all the answers right.
3. Resistance, from students who feel like it is pointless to show their process since they already know the answer.
Practice is a process, dear students! I will assess you soon, I promise.
I am not sure how I can help my precious Algebra 2 students to understand.
It seems obvious (but not all inclusive) to use some sort of sports analogy: If you are learning a new football play and you totally mess it up, the coach doesn't mark a D- in the grade book and call it a day, does he? No, he doesn't. He sends you back out there to try it again until you get it right.
That is all I have for now . . . I am going to keep working on it.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Sticker Survey
I have always done some kind of survey-type thing at the beginning of the year. My lofty goal is always to collect the data and learn valuable information about my students. Sadly, most years the surveys get filed away. I get busy with the planning of lessons and the grading of quizzes and such, and I never look at them.
This year I decided to put the survey questions on card stock and post them around the room. I gave each student a strip of stickers.
I think these two are interesting, placed right next to each other. (The grade I usually get in math is . . . , and My goal for a grade in math is . . . ) I assured them their responses would be anonymous.
This was kind of a last minute idea, so I had to work with what stickers I could find. I think next year I will try to find something real distinctive for each hour, so I can easily compare the data for a single class.
Anyhoo, it was a fun first day activity and it was definitely more useful than my old survey.
This year I decided to put the survey questions on card stock and post them around the room. I gave each student a strip of stickers.
I think these two are interesting, placed right next to each other. (The grade I usually get in math is . . . , and My goal for a grade in math is . . . ) I assured them their responses would be anonymous.
This was kind of a last minute idea, so I had to work with what stickers I could find. I think next year I will try to find something real distinctive for each hour, so I can easily compare the data for a single class.
Anyhoo, it was a fun first day activity and it was definitely more useful than my old survey.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
My Thoughts On Homework
Lately I have been thinking about how I assign, collect, and give points (or not) for homework. (For the record, when I say ‘homework’ I really mean ‘practice’. I want my students to practice every day. Sometimes they practice at home.)
I know a lot of bloggers have had success with not giving points for homework, but I am not ready to go there yet. I tried not giving points once during my first year of teaching and it was a disaster. Then again, lots of things during my first year of teaching were a disaster. But if giving students a score on a paper helps them to reflect on the quality of their efforts as they practice math, then I’m okay with using points.
So this is what I do . . . In bold is the thing I am trying to accomplish, and after that is how I attempt to make it happen.
1. The perfect system emphasizes quality practice. Students need to reflect and make corrections as they are working: I spend a lot of time teaching students how to practice. I want them to work out a problem, and then check the answer and find any mistakes and revise their work as needed. I hate to say just “show your work”. I do emphasize the importance of justifying your solution so that you can communicate to others how you found it, and prove it is correct. I make up a page of problems where some are perfect, others are missing work/justification, others have a wrong answer, and some have a right answer but the work/justification is incorrect or incomplete. Then students work with a partner to critique and discuss the quality of the practice. This takes time, but it is worth it.
2. A good system gives students feedback while they are working, whether at home or at school. Ideally, they can find out if their answer is right or wrong without being told the actual correct answer: I put the answers to the problems in random order in the margin of the assignment. When students finish a problem, they find the answer in the margin and cross it out. The only drawback here is that they can use the process of elimination to know the answer to the problems at the bottom of the page. Still, it works pretty well. I am thinking of tweaking this a little this year using the sum of a couple answers (sort of like Kate’s Add ‘em up). Instead of writing all the answers in the margin, I think I will try something like “the sum of #1 and #2 is _____”. Then they will know if they need to fix their work without giving away any answers.
3. If points are given, the points should reflect the quality of the practice vs. the number of answers that are correct on the first try: A problem counts for points if it has correct work (or justification of some kind) leading to the correct answer, regardless of how many tries it takes you to get there. I don’t really even think of it as a “homework” grade. I want the point value to help students think about how well they are practicing. Hmm, maybe I will start calling it the “quality of practice” grade. Or something like that . . . I will have to think of something more catchy.
4. If points are given, the system minimizes teacher time spent grading and recording: My students spend so much time learning what good practice looks like that they know whether a problem they have finished qualifies. It has correct work leading to the correct answer and it counts, or it doesn’t. So students take the number of problems that qualify as good practice divided by the total number of problems times 5 (because I want a practice assignment with 20 short problems to have the same value as a practice assignment with 4 or 5 lengthy ones). I will even put that formula at the top of the paper to make it simple. Round the number to the nearest tenth and hand it in. Teacher records that number.
I am pretty happy with this system, but I still have a few problems. Sometimes students put a score on their paper that isn’t accurate (pretty easy to catch). Sometimes students rely too heavily on clues from the answers in the margin (maybe my little tweak will help that). Sometimes students copy their friend’s homework in the hallway before school (but at least they have to copy the work, too).
What's your homework system?
What's your homework system?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Common Core Response: Panic?
Last fall, when I heard about my state's adoption of the Common Core State Standards, my response was panic. But it wasn't the "Oh no, we have new standards" kind of panic. It was the "Oh no, we're gonna have a new assessment" kind of panic. Yes, it is true. I suffer from a fear of high stakes testing.
I set out to learn as much as possible about the new standards. I attended a couple of webinars, I enrolled in an online class, and I attended a two-day conference. I spent a lot of time during the month of June reading documents, writing papers, and participating in discussions. I felt like I was learning quite a bit, and I resolved to blog my thoughts.
Each time that I sat down to write about CCSS, I had nothing to write. I was completely blank. Weird. But I did notice that the panic was gone, so that is a good thing. The best I can do now is a bulleted list of random thoughts . . . which seem to have led me away from the panic I was feeling:
1. The CCSS are not just about WHAT we teach, but also about HOW we teach. There are now 8 practice standards to guide our teaching methods. Students need to learn how to think, not just follow a set of steps. That is something I need to work on anyway.
2. The new standards are more rigorous and more complete than our retired standards. In Kansas, our standards only went through the 10th grade. We've only been testing a limited number of these standards. A more rigorous update was needed, no question.
3. The thing we want to know about the most (assessment!) is the thing about which we know the least. There are two companies working on the new assessment, and it is in the early stages of development.
4. We most likely have 3 - 4 years before the new assessment rolls in.
5. I know I am going to need to do some things differently, but three years is a relatively long time to make the necessary adjustments. I am going to make a list of things to change, and a time line for myself. One. Step. At. A. Time.
6. I want to believe that if I work towards helping students be better thinkers, and make sure that the standards are included in my curriculum . . . if I focus on good teaching vs. state assessment preparing . . . that everything will be fine . . .
7. I believe that this is a positive change, even though the transition will have its challenges.
8. Panic isn't going to help.
I set out to learn as much as possible about the new standards. I attended a couple of webinars, I enrolled in an online class, and I attended a two-day conference. I spent a lot of time during the month of June reading documents, writing papers, and participating in discussions. I felt like I was learning quite a bit, and I resolved to blog my thoughts.
Each time that I sat down to write about CCSS, I had nothing to write. I was completely blank. Weird. But I did notice that the panic was gone, so that is a good thing. The best I can do now is a bulleted list of random thoughts . . . which seem to have led me away from the panic I was feeling:
1. The CCSS are not just about WHAT we teach, but also about HOW we teach. There are now 8 practice standards to guide our teaching methods. Students need to learn how to think, not just follow a set of steps. That is something I need to work on anyway.
2. The new standards are more rigorous and more complete than our retired standards. In Kansas, our standards only went through the 10th grade. We've only been testing a limited number of these standards. A more rigorous update was needed, no question.
3. The thing we want to know about the most (assessment!) is the thing about which we know the least. There are two companies working on the new assessment, and it is in the early stages of development.
4. We most likely have 3 - 4 years before the new assessment rolls in.
5. I know I am going to need to do some things differently, but three years is a relatively long time to make the necessary adjustments. I am going to make a list of things to change, and a time line for myself. One. Step. At. A. Time.
6. I want to believe that if I work towards helping students be better thinkers, and make sure that the standards are included in my curriculum . . . if I focus on good teaching vs. state assessment preparing . . . that everything will be fine . . .
7. I believe that this is a positive change, even though the transition will have its challenges.
8. Panic isn't going to help.
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