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.