Best Practices – Chap 8 & 9

I enjoyed these chapters a good deal. I think they would create an intriguing faculty discussion if used for professional development or a summer reading “assignment.” I’m struck by the strong tone of “democracy in a classroom” and how some might read that as anarchy. The deep seated beliefs we each hold about students and education would shape our vision, as always. After watching the movie, The Class, my British friend commented on how it was “so French,” and that English schools would never be so “democratic.” It struck me then and strikes me now as I think about that description, how it is interpreted in an educational setting, and whether all would aspire to it even in the U.S. While I have joked that football coaches were the last true bastions of dictatorial power, I suspect some definite authoritarian currents run through many teachers and administrators. In two recent conversations with colleagues, I’ve been struck by how each of them seemed to desire a more hierarchical approach and “top-down” decision-making as opposed to a more decentralized approach.

A few other items that struck me included the mention of SSR (which I think stands for Sustained Silent Reading), the importance of predictability for students (which strikes me as a new parent thinking about feeding and sleeping times), the power of choice for all learners, the criticism of textbooks as curriculum tools, and finally, the importance of teaching teachers within the same principles that we teach students. As I’m often surprised at in-services that espouse educational beliefs not demonstrated by the presentation (mismatch of content and delivery), I find we can often fail to model the very sort of learning environment with our teachers that we want for our students. Giving learners choice, as we’ve found to be a powerful key to our more successful faculty retreats, creates greater ownership and meets various people in various places. Finally, I’m curious about SSR and whether it’s used. I remember hearing about it years ago, haven’t recently, and wonder where it stands at various schools. As an avid reader, I love the idea, but not sure how it works in practice and what the experience has been for others.

Senge “Orientation” and Ozar “Support the Match”

“The drive to learn is as strong as the sexual drive. It begins earlier and lasts longer.”
- Edward T. Hall, anthropologist (Senge, 4)

While this is a fun quote to start with and include in our next parent newsletter, the aspect of Senge’s work that struck me this time is the broad, communal vision it takes. While I agree with the theory in a general “it takes a village” sort of way, I wonder if the vision is “student centered?” It seems to be “community centered,” where the students are only one group of learners. I wonder what impact it has to think of our schools in this manner.

I was also struck by the discussion about “seeing” other people, students, colleagues, parents. A former colleague of mine spoke of a “ministry of presence.” Essentially, he affirmed the importance of being present to the students and to others. In this sense, he illustrated the essential relational nature of our work. “If you want to improve a school system, before you change the rules, look first to the ways people think and interact together.” (Senge, 19) Inviting ongoing conversation and communal engagement on our future together, which reminds me of the ideal for the accreditation process, are the essential means of being learning organizations that grow, improve, and serve the students. The idea and complexity of systems thinking can be daunting to me. The centrality of relationships, however, helps ground me and return me to a very Catholic worldview of the purpose of education.

In reading Ozar’s chapter, I kept thinking of the task she describes as creating a sort of local, home-made “teacher’s textbook edition” for each of our classes and educational program. I think some people would worry that this sort of locally developed curriculum wouldn’t be as strong as that created by “professionals,” namely those who developed the textbooks. I think the real challenge in getting a written curriculum, however, is the historically individualistic culture of teaching. Getting a group to agree on the significant outcomes, assessments and strategies of a course worries those who feel that such exercises would constrain them, impinging on their freedom to take a course wherever they wanted and/or where the students energy goes. I also think this taps into the “night before” preparation that can mark the practice of some of our colleagues, including those who procrastinate and those who are most creative.

Ozar's Choosing a Set of Outcomes (Chap 5)

A mantra that Ozar repeats at least five times in this short chapter concerns formulating outcomes that “are central to the discipline and useful and needed beyond school.” (Ozar, 68) At the same time, she argues (as we have discussed in class), that specific content isn’t as essential as learning the competencies and characteristics like those found in tables 5.1 – 5.4. What struck me first about the Ozar mantra is how this idea has been widely accepted and seen as traditional. Most, if not all, teachers I work with acknowledge the need to have outcomes central to the discipline and that engage the real world and/or world of the students. Some of the more “traditionalists” would argue, however, that the focus on content, mastering material over a period of time, explaining and synthesizing it on exams, and staying committed to this rigor over the course of a semester or year develops the very characteristics described as necessary for the future. They might argue that the competencies and characteristics cannot be taught in a vacuum, to which we all would agree. It is at that point, I assume, the way to invite them into an Ozarian vision (we’re off to see the wizard…), is to ask how we might assess if the students really are learning the competencies and characteristics described or are they simply assuming the students are. Once we engage them in a question of valid assessment for agreed upon outcomes, we’re beginning from common ground.

The other item that struck me in this reading is one talked about in Shimabukuro’s work as well. In talking about the “real answer” to the question about which outcomes, Ozar states, “those that promote the most learning and provide the most future success within the context of which learning we value most.” (Ozar, 61) The emphasis is mine (the author emphasized the phrase “within the context”). I find the idea of the “most valued learning” to be exciting, challenging, and at the core of the issue. In focusing our curriculum to a manageable amount, one that takes us off the hamster wheel of covering the content (or textbook), we must define learning that is of most value. Certainly there is some value in all learning, and there must be some learning that is of greater value than other. What we are called to decide, as a community, is the learning that is of most value. This debate could generate a great deal of passionate discussion. Ultimately, I think the answer to this question for us as Catholic schools lies at the crossroads of faith and culture.

Ozar's Creating a Curriculum

We’ve used Lorraine Ozar’s work with our faculty for a number of years to focus on backwards design in creating and articulating our curriculum. The concepts and charts have proved helpful tools, but the exact use of language (goal, outcome, objective) originally generated as much confusion as clarity. The sea change in focus, however, from what a teacher teaches to what a student learns has worked well. Moreover, looking for evidence of learning, what a student can observably do, helps ground our discussions. With all that said, the task is daunting and we do not provide adequate time, in my opinion, for our teachers to do this work thoroughly, collaboratively, and consistently. Creating department outcomes, with the ownership of department members, takes a great deal of focus, especially if you want ownership and effective use of these outcomes. How do we create the time and incentive to do this work well? We’re currently examining our bell schedule to create more time for faculty collaboration and learning teams. I also think we need to make better use of the summer months as teaching professionals to prepare not simply our individual classes, but our overall curriculum. I’ll wait for the comments of my colleagues to figure out how to make that work or sell the idea to others.

The great debate, as I often encounter it, among faculty trying to determine a common curriculum is the issue of breadth and depth. Usually, I say breadth versus depth, because it is so often seen as the great trade off. In Ozar’s words, our school, department, and class outcomes need to “specify enough and not too much.” (Ozar, 5) As with many things, I find individuals are challenged to prune the scope and sequence of their courses. How can you leave out the Book of Job, or the presidency of Andrew Jackson, or the lab on thermodynamics? As others have commented, some of our history classes might be well renamed US History through 1950. Many teachers “runs out of time.” In our community, we hear about seat minutes per class, the number of student absences for Masses, retreats, fieldtrips, sporting events, etc. (I’m certain this doesn’t ever come up at any of your schools.) How are we to convince those few reluctant colleagues that part of the issue is getting bogged down in a curriculum based on content delivery? A corollary to this conversation is Ozar’s contention, that I strongly agree with, that “significant learning must include affective learning.” (Ozar, 48) Content driven faculty can often be dismissive of such notions. The use of taxonomies and the argument for integration can greatly assist in dealing with this mindset. The more surprisingly challenging ones (of which there are very few) are those who tend to emphasize affective learning almost to the exclusion of cognitive learning and stating that this sort of learning can’t really be measured. Most often I find that argument within the context of a discussion about the specifically religious outcomes we have as a school community.

C&I First Blog Ever! (2/17/09)

As I reflect on our readings and write for the entire class to see, I recognize the intellectual assent I’ve given to much new science thinking while industrial age education is my personal lived experience. I believe that the relationships among faculty, between faculty and students, and between individuals and course material is far more important than any individual or the course material itself. I believe that the metaphor of a living organism is much better than that of a machine when talking about schools. Moreover, I believe that a school needs to be a community of learners that includes the student voice. At the same time, I have not sufficiently challenged the industrial age thinking of classrooms with a set number of students and a single teacher as a way to structure learning. I find myself too concerned about productivity in a sense of more uniform “quality output.” Two aspects of the industrial age model that most strike me have been my assumption that motivation is the responsibility of the teacher (Senge, 32) and that some of what I do to improve is simply work harder within the same basic framework. In the article for this coming Thursday, Wagner speaks of teachers being resistant to change because they are risk averse, while those in leadership positions tend to be more willing to risk. In reflecting on this, I’d suggest that school leaders aren’t as affected by change because we have much greater influence over the shape of any school change and, perhaps more importantly, we are evaluated by making change, understood as growth or improvement. A leader of any organization today would be loathe to find praise or positive feedback for maintaining the status quo of an organization, no matter how good that may be.

An example of my use and implementation of new science thinking in our school has been the formation of a co-curricular council to mirror the academic council. This group works collaboratively and discusses issues that are bigger than the interests of the individual programs represented. Within the past few years, this group developed and has “ownership” (Wagner) of updated policies regarding freshman participation requirements, the earning of a block letter, and a revised procedure regarding academic eligibility that allows parents, counselors, moderators, coaches, and the student him/herself have a voice in the process. Another example that we’re going through this year is an examination of our school schedule. The energy came out of WASC, itself a more collaborative process that involved a wide variety of stakeholders. In going through the process to determine parameters, goals, and ultimately a new schedule, I have met with the student leadership team on a monthly basis. Their input, like that of the faculty members, appeared on all documents that the various groups have examined and narrowed to a sharper focus. The students are clearly energized to be engaged in thinking about something that will have a dramatic and real impact on the operation of the school. In thinking of concrete industrial age examples, I feel like the fish who cannot see the water. One area that seems clearest to me is when I’m not interacting directly with a student or group of students. I find myself easily thinking of our “educational product” through large sets of data. I can think in a much more mechanical way, for example, when examining our AP scores and talking about our entrance requirements for those classes.

Note: Saw "The Class" this weekend. An outstanding film that would spark great discussions about teaching, learning, discipline, and multicultural education. I highly recommend it.