6 x 9 Gregg Ruled Steno Notebook

I save the notes. Each school year teachers receive gift cards, socks, ties, embroidered sweaters, college paraphernalia, sports paraphernalia, coffee mugs, drug store aftershave or perfume,  handmade crafts, homemade treats, pen sets, and other trinkets of gratitude.  Mixed in with these mementos are the occasional notes scrawled in crayon, ink, or pencil. They contain the simple thank you,  the descriptions of memorable moments, and the expressions of affection. These  I save. I have a whole drawer full of them, tossed with pictures and certificates from my years as a teacher. I pull them out from time to time to remind me why I return each fall. They are evidence of the relationships that are carved out of 180 days of schooling.

My daughter pulled out a blank notebook as she rummaged through my memory drawer recently. She held it up and laughed, "Why is this here?" I told her to look behind the cardstock cover where Carlos Paz had printed his name in big block letters some twenty years earlier. Under his name he wrote, "Thank you  Sr. Fournier." It was his gift to me.

Carlos gave me that gift furtively.  It was just before Christmas vacation and my desk was already piled high with teacher gifts. He snuck up to my desk and handed it to me while the other kids were bustling at the door waiting for the recess bell. From a boy who lived most of the school year out of a car or at a distant relative's house, his gift was precious to me. It wasn't just the token of gratitude that touched me, but the fact that it came from  the most heroic student I have taught; from a boy who came to me as an illiterate eight year old, who spent two years in third grade, and who helped so many classmates while he struggled to reach a reading ability that would move him, finally, to the next grade level.

I can't give credit for Carlos' success to my teaching skills, the basel program we used, the phonic instruction, the standardized tests, nor the flash cards.  In spite of all the training I have had since, I know it was the interactions we had as a small community of readers that launched Carlos on his literate way. Our book talks, our guided readings, our dramatic play, our quite reading time, our laughs, our arguments, our recesses all created the stage for Carlos to acquire the inheritance of literacy.

A valued mentor once told me, "You can teach to a test, or to a curriculum, or to a law, or to a policy, or to a program, but you won't get anywhere as a teacher unless you teach to their eyes."  A teacher can be well armed with the things of teaching, but he cannot be effective without the intangible relationships with the students.

Relationships can't be measured. They can't be manufactured. They can't be mandated or bought.

Humilde,

Profesor Suave

Tasty line.

"Musicians stood onstage noodling on their instruments with the languid air of outfielders warming up in the sun." 

 "We Are Alive" by David Remnick (The New Yorker, July 30, 2012)

Study + Practice = Create

“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”

 - Pablo Picasso

Teaching is Architecture

The Prize

"Getting people to do the current thing is fine. Getting people to do the right thing is essential."
 - Todd Whitaker

Flipped classrooms, teaching with Ipads, core curriculum, alternative assessment, global education, and social learning theory are just a handful of the fads bandied about in education today.  Although plenty of time and money are exhausted implementing these innovations, surely they will be gone faster than a donut in a teacher's lounge. Show me a teacher with ten years in the classroom, and I'll show you someone who has seen a concept come and go, then return again repackaged in glitter and bow at least once if not twice in her career.

Dr. Burt Bleke led several districts in West Michigan over the last 30-some years.  His work for the Grand Rapids Public Schools over a brief three year period still impresses. He transformed a rancorous  school board, a beleaguered teacher union,  and an anti-public school political climate into a vibrant, open community whose focus was kids.  I saw before my eyes a defensive union bargaining team and a hostile administration turn in to a round table of like minded co-workers. Dr. Bleke worked tirelessly in darkened hallways, hot sidewalks, church kitchens, and (no kidding) in classrooms* to convey his care for our mission of teaching children.

Dr. Bleke was once asked by a reporter if he was concerned with the poor results of the recent standardized test scores. He responded that our focus was not a test or scores, but the fundamental work of teaching. Creating a caring environment where students are invested in their learning results in  raised test scores, reading levels, graduation rates, etc. He truly believed that if we kept our eye on that prize, everything else would follow. He was right. During his reign several key indicators revealed gains throughout an otherwise challenged inner-city school district.

Todd Whitaker writes, "[Great teachers] do what is right, no matter what else is going on." Great teachers don't ignore change, nor are they insubordinate.  They simply get kids to care - they get them to "buy into" whatever is the challenge of the day. They put the children before the fad, innovation, and re-packaged programs. They touch student's hearts so that they may teach.

Enfocado,

Pepinazo

*During his tenure as Superintendent in Grand Rapids, Dr. Bleke regularly tutored middle school students after school.

The Highest Common Denominator

I've taught in four different countries.  My assignments have been varied: poor urban schools in the U.S, poorer rural schools in the Dominican Republic, an elite private school in the mountains of Colombia, and a city school in northern Mexico packed with kids coming or going from El Norte.

Twenty years breathing chalk dust  leave me with distinct impressions. Most intriguing is that the teaching culture is universal.  No matter how developed the country, or wealthy the community, teaching is pretty much the same.  Generally, there is the same suspicion  of the educator, the same herculean efforts to control the  classroom from beyond, and the same disfunction between teacher and student.

I would say, unscientifically, that hubs of school success occur in rare communities that have faith in the process. If they trust that students make gains when attending school, it tends to come to fruition.
I am not suggesting that there is a magical "feeling" tone that leads to educational success. I do believe that trust  makes us behave differently, and it is that behavior that creates the conditions for extraordinary learning. Too often we focus on the low end of the bell curve. We react to infractions, shortcomings, and deficits - real or perceived.

I'll never forget "La Pared" ("The Wall)  in a public school in Durango. Folks spoke of "La Pared" with apprehension. I soon learned it was the East wall of the teacher's lounge where a list was posted, four feet high, of various teacher's absence during the school year. As well, "La Pared" contained annotations of other violations (smoking on campus, leaving the premises with school property, fraternization with students, and much more). It was scandalous and very public.
Arriving late to punch in at the time clock resulted in a posting on "La Pared" and a scolding from Sra. Alvarez, the teacher's lounge prefect.

It was meant as an aversion at best, simple justice at least. What it did do for sure, though, was browbeat everyone, even the best teachers. My most professional colleagues were made to feel less than professional even when their names never appeared on "La Pared".

Would it be a "feel good" gimmick to post, instead, a list of the successes of the best teachers on "La Pared"? Or would it transform the school culture, a transformation that would create the behavior that breeds success?

Maybe it is merely social engineering. But  if our community, the media, and the throngs of non-classroom "educators" were to cast their high beams on  our mightiest teachers, even our weakest colleagues might fall in line. Who knows?  Some of our best and brightest might even strive to become teachers....


Atentamente,

Prof. Suave

The Ability to Ignore

Years ago when I lived in the hardscrabble town of Villa Altagracia in the Dominican Republic, I used to eat at Beatriz' house with the other bachelors of the nieghborhood. Beatriz was our paid hostess. Each humid afternoon, we sat, ate, and argued during our meal at a large picnic table that engulfed Beatriz' humble sala  . Old Valtico, one of my table mates, was often impatient with my feeble comprehension of Spanish.  As my Spanish improved, he would reproach me, accusing me of understanding only what was convenient for me to understand.

Although I still deny using that technique during our meal time debates long ago, I must say it comes in handy in the classroom these days.  I select the behaviors I need to address.  Not that I don't have "eyes behind my head" like the proverbial teacher, it is just that I am being economical with my most precious resource: time.

The great teachers have a keen talent for ignoring those things that aren't of great consequence. They don't seek to extinguish every petty behavior that presents itself, but  methodically select the issues that require their immediate attention, while tending to others when a "teachable moment" presents itself.

Like a maestro orchestrating a stage full of musicians, the teacher addresses the rhythm of the classroom delicately, knowing that each instrument and its corresponding musician has unique characteristics that are to be addressed accordingly. If the percussionist in the back row is thumbing a Sports Illustrated during the flute solo, the maestro might wait until the end of the evening to address the situation.

Poor Valtico was just as frustrated as some observers might be when watching a seasoned teacher at work. Why didn't he see that boy leaning back in his chair?  Didn't he notice those two girls chatting? What about that boy staring at the ceiling? The master teacher would always have an explanation.

Es obvio,

Peppy

I am the Bellwether

 Teachers have little control over what happens to them, but they  do control their response. Teachers are stewards of the content and tone of their responses to any situation, be it a hostile parent, a misguided administrator, or a "lively" group of children.

This summer, I am reflecting on three stategies that should be the bedrock of my teaching in the future:

• I am the bellwether.
• Always repair (even if not needed).
• "I am sorry that it happened."

A bellwether is  that which influences trends, such as a key state in a presidential election.  I am the bellwether of my classroom - my mood effects the quality of my student's day. My relationship with my students determines the quality of their school year. I have the potential to make or break a child's experience. I'd better be mindful of my mood; it is powerful

I need to always apologize, even if an apology is not particularly warranted. I avoid hurt feelings by repairing any potential mistakes I've made, even small errors of judgement. This is key to nurturing those relationships that are crucial to student learning. "I'm sorry" used with most of  the same criteria as praise* repairs mistakes that are inevitable upon making dozens of teacher decisions each school day.

I can't please everyone all the time. Somethings simply are not within my control. Still, a mother might choose to give me her "two cents", the principal may misplace blame, or a coworker might not like my teaching style. Instead of engaging in an unproductive (and unhealthy) debate, I can simply apologize that it happened. I can apologize that they feel that way. I am no way insincerely taking the blame, and I am showing empathy.

Lo siento,

Peppy

*The apology should be authentic [heartfelt], specific [I am clear about what I am apologizing for], immediate, and clean [no hidden agenda]. Unlike praise, it does not need to be private.

In Praise of Praise

Carlos is a third grader. His family moved from Guanajuato, Mexico to Detroit when Carlos was in kindergarten. His parents often return to Mexico to sell clothes and other items they collect from garage sales, flea markets, and curbsides. Because of these frequent trips, Carlos has missed an average of 30 days per school year. He reads at a first grade level.
We are in our reading groups. Carlos is huddled with his two reading mates, the Negron brothers. This is the brothers' first year in Detroit, having moved from Mexico the previous summer. Carlos is a natural leader and is guiding the boys through the assignment: completing the blanks of a story with key vocabulary from a word bank. They are struggling, but Carlos urges his group on,  not completing a blank unless he is sure the boys are in agreement.
The teacher approaches their table and quietly observes for a minute. After Carlos fills in a blank with his awkward printing, he meets the teacher's eyes. The teacher stoops to whisper in Carlos' ear:
"Carlos, good job with the boys. You are checking to make sure they understand the words before you fill in the blank."
The teacher taps Carlos' shoulder, winks at the brothers, and moves on to the next group.

Praise has taken a hit lately. Books, articles, and keynotes have treated praise like a recently discovered virus. I beg to differ; praise given in the appropriate context is the key to a positive classroom atmosphere.
According to Todd Whitaker (What Great Teachers Do Differently), the above scenario contains the key elements of "good praise": it is authentic, specific, immediate, clean (no "agenda"), and private.

Hablo elogiando,

Doctor Suave

Response-Ability

"Accountability breeds response-ability" - Stephen Covey

As it is the date of Stephen Covey's death,  it is most appropriate to refer to him when the issue of accountability is discussed.  Mr. Covey wrote of the idea of "response-ability" - the ability to respond adequately at the "moment of choice". No matter what befalls us, we always have the ability to creatively respond, something that sets humankind apart from other animals. We have choice in our response to anything that happens to us. The choice is ours, as is the consequence.
My mentor, Blaine Ray, has an "80 out of 80" criteria for any assessment in his class.  If 80% of his students attain 80% or better on a test or quiz, he has taught the material.  Anything short of that criteria,  he hasn't done his job. No excuses.
Was it student laziness? He needs to work on firmly enforcing his expectations.  Students not familiar with the content? He needs to fine-tune his instruction. Were students confused? Align lesson outcomes with the assessment better.
In the end, Mr. Ray owns the consequences, and responds accordingly.

Cumplido,

Prof. Suave

Teacher Expectations

Our character is basically a composite of our habits. Because they are consistent, often unconcious patterns, they constantly, daily, express our character.  - Stephen Covey

1. Show respect at all times to all students, to their parents and to colleagues

2. Treat students and parents as clients, and my job as if it were "at-will"

3. Project gratitude for the opportunity to teach

4. Show care in instruction and management by way of sufficient planning and preparation.

5. Study, study, study

6. Find a mentor. Follow that mentor.

7. Dress for work (clean, neat, age-appropriate)

8. Own the classroom

9. Play

10. Rest

Today Stephen Covey died. He authored "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People."

I am most effective when I heed the advice given in his leadership  literature. The expectations above frame Mr. Covey's advice to be empathetic, of service, responsible, and proactive. 

El fin en mente,

P. Suave

The Buck Stops Here

It's a 7:45 a.m. staff meeting on a dark February mid-week morning. A table of danishes and coffee greats us as we enter the school library. The cold darkness fills the windows, making a stark back drop to the well-lit meeting space.  Mr. Pyrek, principal, stands in front of his staff gesturing to data craftily displayed on an overhead powerpoint. In his starched oxford, khakies, and silk tie, he confidently projects the years of teaching experience that preceded his entry into administration years ago.  Mrs. Smith sits next to me, snuggled on the lone rocker, eyes closed as she rocks gently. Three  men sit together in a far corner, the bluish glow of their androids lighting up their faces, as their thumbs do a Russian folk dance on the tiny keyboards. Ms. Babish corrects spelling tests with a scowl, and Mrs. Coltrane stumbles into the room with a Starbucks coffee in one hand and  a Lands End catalogue in the other. Two young teachers dressed smartly in corporate casual like their principal and wielding pens and notebooks, sit in front and  attend eagerly to Mr. Pyrek's lecture.
It has become a pastime of mine to spend staff meetings tallying participation. I write a "check" under names of those who speak during a meeting, and an "x" under those that interrupt others. Often the marks suggest interesting trends in the narrowness of participation, and the frequency in which colleagues neglect to truly listen to the responses of their workmates.
The scenario illustrated in the first paragraph, and the unscientific tally I use,  help me see the irony in the expectations we teachers have for student behavior. When we are "in the shoes" of our students, do we show integrity in our expectations for our own behavior?
Todd Whitaker (What Teachers Do Differently) believes that great teachers have high expectations for themselves. Poor teacher have much higher expectations of their students' behavior than they do of their own. When students are not engaged, the good teacher asks himself what he could do differently. The poor teacher blames the student, today's society, video games, etc.
For the stellar teacher, his classroom is his domain.  For him, the buck stops at the threshold of his classroom.

A master can tell you what he expects of you. 

A teacher, though, awakens your own expectations. 

- Patricia Neal

Atentamente,
Profe. Suave

Fool Me Once

"Laws control the lesser man.... Right conduct controls the greater one." Mark Twain

We all like to be treated with respect.  Everyone appreciates a lawful community, yet abhors  receiving a speeding citation, or having to pass through airport security. There is dignity in being law-abiding, and (for most of us), there is shame in having broken a law.  Certaintly, laws are essential to a well-run society, but are they sufficient?

Todd Whitaker explores the epic challenge of dealing with student behavior. He acknowledges that things go wrong in even the best classrooms staffed by the best teachers. I had my own epiphany when, as a young teacher, my principal sent me to observe several "master" teachers in our district. Over the year of these observations, it was evident that these teachers were fantastic, at the top of their game.  But what was more evident, and certaintly far more helpful to me for years to come, is that all these phenominal teachers were dealing with the same student behaviors as I struggled with - they were just far more effective at addressing the behaviors.
Whitaker opines that the great teacher's goals are to prevent misbehavior, and, in the event that misbehavior inevitably occurs, keep it from happening again. The great teacher is very proactive and methodological in her approach to discipline, whereas the ineffective teacher is caught in a reactive loop, and burdened with the inefficient application of punishment. 
How does the effective teacher maintain positive student relationships during conflict? This is crucial, as I found that  the trust built between me and my students can easily be skuttled by the way I handle student conduct; even the biggest bully in the class becomes a victim, and the teacher the bully, if the issue is not handled with the child's dignity reverently kept intact while the situation is being addressed.
If not, it becomes "me against them", a culture with little trust, and the teacher is  rendered profoundly less effective.
Student dignity, maintaining trust, proaction, as well as keeping the end in mind (extinguishing misbehavior)  are the key elements of handling behavior problems in the classroom.
Returning to the previous entry's theme of upholding high expectations versus policing rules, if I have high expectations for student behavior that are clearly communicated, and if I firmly address student shortcomings keeping their dignity fully intact, I am helping my students become the "greater one" that Mark Twain referred to in the quote above.

Portate bien,
Profe. Suave

Rules Are Made To Be Broken

Todd Whitaker, author of What Great Teachers Do Differently, believes that expectations are more important than rules in a classroom. Clearly established expectations that are consistently enforced are the mark of a great instructor. Coupled with positive relationships with the students, a teacher may spend more time leading and  less time managing. 

Less effective teachers are entangled in the litigation of rules, or the crafting and enforcing of consequences.

Over the last few years I have focused on expectations: Listen, Participate, and Be respectful.  I frequently repeat my expectations, especially when a distraction occurs. For a "repeat offender", I might  

whisper a firm reminder of the expectation that is being ignored, and state that we'll talk later about the disruption. I  make sure to return to the students after class and we work on an appropriate consequence.

In prior years I've brainstormed lists of rules with the class, but found I needed a staff of lawyers to implement these programs with any degree of integrity.

The most precious resource we have as teachers in time. That said, the richest, most impactful period of time is right at the beginning of the school year. It is those first few days that you determine a great deal of the quality of the classroom for the rest of the school year. Students are at their most attentive at that time; they are also at their highest level of concern, using all their faculties to sense what their fate will be for the next 180 days. To take those days lightly, without profound reflection and preparation, is to risk the impact of a whole school year for several young people.

The Who

"Who are you? I really wanna know!"

                                                                   -as sung by Roger Daltery of The Who

It's not what, it's who.
Teaching is no different than many other professions:
 We spend huge efforts to refine our work by creating and implementing programs, methods, theories, policies, and other instruments of good intentions.
 We work on our appearance, be it is our dress code, body language, advertising, or office decor.
We discuss and debate issues, best practices, and our markets.
We devote hours to training and study.
There are those in teaching and many other professions that excel, that perform far above the norm, as well as others that fall short of competence.
The professionals that perform at a high level have a "who" factor that sets them above their peers. They do the "what" with everyone else; it is who they are, their core beliefs, motivations, and values that   consistently separate them from the pack. It is who they are that causes them to do the "what" so well.
I feel a lot of the criticism of education, and, dangerously, a lot of the change implemented in education recently, is generated from a focus on the "what". There is traditionally a misdiagnoses of a profession's ills based on perceived weaknesses in things.
An institutional gut check about who we are as a community (students, teachers, administrators,  politicians, etc.), might result in a better idea of  who we need working with the "what" of the classroom.

¿Quienes somos? -
P. Suave