Ferrill's Blog

A Letter to My English 9 Students

2009-08-16T14:18:00.001-06:00

Dear English 9 Students,

Would you like to hear a secret? I am very nervous about teaching you this year. I started my teaching career 34 years ago, but I haven’t taught freshmen since 2002 and so much has changed since then: you have changed, technology has changed, and I have changed. As we begin our year together, I’d like to share some thoughts.

I want you to know I am in awe of your technological expertise. Many of you are masters of multi-tasking, and I marvel at your ability to walk down the halls while chatting with friends, listening to music on your IPods, and sending text messages—all at the same time. I still haven’t sent a single text message, I don’t have a Facebook Account, and I usually turn off my phone when I take long walks in the afternoon.

This year you will be thrilled to discover laptop computers in our English classroom. Each of you will be assigned a specific computer for daily or occasional use, and you will learn to use a variety of technological tools that can enhance your learning, expand your global interactions, and help you create professional presentations.

So why am I nervous? Technology is an amazing tool, but it is just that—a tool—and at times it becomes a distraction. My passion isn’t teaching technology; it’s teaching the art of communication through reading, writing, speaking, and listening. I can’t wait to share with you my love of literary classics as well as strategies for becoming articulate writers, convincing speakers, and active listeners. But learning effective communication skills requires hard work, focus, and commitment. At times, you will be tempted to check your email, play computer games, or send a text message. Technology has made your lives easier in so many ways. You are instantly connected to friends; YouTube provides constant entertainment; you have invented your own language and can ignore traditional grammar rules, while cutting your messages down to 140 characters of Twittering.

But let me share another secret. I am old-fashioned—in fact, I’m older than most of your parents and may have even taught some of them. Reading and writing are two of my favorite hobbies, and I love curling up on the couch with a good book or reading a five-page letter from a close friend. I’m also sad that some elementary schools no longer teach cursive writing (I must confess I have saved the letters my husband wrote to me before we were married—he has beautiful handwriting and writes eloquently . . . which is probably why I married him!)

Because many of you are experts in the art of instant, condensed communication, you may feel reluctant to read long, challenging works of literature that expand your vocabulary and your world view. You may become frustrated revising your compositions multiple times, or learning to make eye contact when you share your ideas. But learning the basic skills of reading, writing, speaking, and listening is essential if you want use technology to reach your future goals rather than allowing technology to control you.

I am going to push you to use technology as a tool, not a substitute for learning. I am going to push you to read demanding works of literature much longer than 140 characters. I will teach you grammar, vocabulary, writing skills, and traditional essay structures. I will expect you to arrive to class on time, put away all distractions (electronic or otherwise) before walking through the classroom door, and open your mind to scintillating ideas and higher-level thinking.

As I end this letter, I no longer feel nervous about teaching this year. Putting my feelings on paper reminds me why I became a teacher, and I can’t wait to share with you authors such as Shakespeare, who will give you words for feelings you didn’t even know you had until you read his words. I also can’t wait for you to share with me your energy, your humor, and your unique perspectives. And will someone please show me how to send a text message?

Sincerely,

Mrs. Marlys A. Ferrill

Teaching the Classics

2008-02-09T09:03:00.000-07:00

As a teacher and lover of classical literature, I'll admit that interest in the classics has waned since I started teaching 33 years ago. Nonetheless, I'm still convinced students must read challenging works that expand their world view, vocabulary, and understanding of different time periods and cultures.

Certainly students don't need to read traditional or antiquated literary peices to achieve these benefits. I just finished teaching The Kite Runner to my sophomores, and most of them easily devoured this story about a man seeking redemption for past mistakes. In recent years I haven't enjoyed the same success with A Separate Peace, a classic novel with a similar theme, but more difficult to read. So I plan to continue teaching The Kite Runner and will probably offer A Separate Peace as an optional assignment. But part of me worries about placing less emphasis on a novel that forces students to struggle with vocabulary and syntax. Is my decision to teach an "easier," more contemporary novel what educators refer to as "dumbing down the curriculum"? Don't get me wrong. I loved teaching The Kite Runner and value its poetic style and cultural relevance--and my students loved the novel (a victory in and of itself). But they rarely asked questions about the meaning of certain passages or vocabulary the way students do when reading the classics. If I want them to improve their rhetorical skills, don't I need to expose them to literary forms not typical of what they like to read?

Just this morning I read an article in the Rocky Mountain News about the One Book, One Denver program promoted by Mayor John Hickenlooper. Apparently the program isn't doing too well because readers don't like the book choices. According to local author Joy Hakim, "This is the information age and what most of us want to read is real stuff...The novel was an exciting literary form in the 19th century...Today's literary form is nonfiction." Excuse me. The destructive power of jealousy in Othello is not real? The pain of Gene in A Separate Peace understanding that he is his own worst enemy is not real? The joy of Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice discovering a soul-mate who is her intellectual equal depite the pressures of a society consumed by social status not real? Portia's definition of mercy as a quality which "blesseth him that gives and him that takes" in Merchant of Venice not real? The purpose of great literature is to give us a real understanding of ourselves and the world around us. We need the classics to give us words that increase such understanding, and we need to learn the art of expressing our emotions in words that can move others.

Nothing compares with watching students experience the joy of reading literary masterpieces which defy the passage of time. This past week my AP Language students read Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest. Students struggled with words such as "apoplexy," "portmanteau," and "Quixotic," but their laughter rang out more often than their questions; and as one student exclaimed while walking out of class at the end of the period, "This play is sheer perfection."

Giving Thanks

2007-11-26T22:02:00.000-07:00

A week ago Saturday I attended the Advanced Placement Conference at Cherry Creek High School. Imagine my surprise when our presenter used overheads during the AP Language workshop. Squinting my eyes at fuzzy graphics and faded print, I had forgotten how bland overhead materials appear compared to professional-looking PowerPoints. But our presenter was not to blame. The classroom was not equipped with an overhead projector, and several teachers in my session described insufficient access to technology in their schools as well. Some schools only have one or two computer labs for the entire building; other schools receive no technology training opportunities; and still others are without effective leaders guiding them into the 21st Century.

How thankful I am for Karl Fisch and the opportunities, excitement, and vision he has brought to AHS! His expertise in technology, passion for improving education, and boundless energy (some refer to him as an elf—I think of him as the Energizer Bunny) have renewed my dedication to teaching and remaining a lifelong learner even as the twilight of my career begins.

I also want to thank many others:
• 21st Century Cohort Members, who consistently challenge me to examine my teaching practices and generously share their own
• Building administrators and mentors, who support innovative ideas and collaborative efforts
• Several brave teachers, who have invited cohort members into their classrooms to watch an entire hour of constructivist teaching
• The entire English Department for shouldering the tremendous task of promoting reading and writing skills across the curriculum
• And specifically, my desk-mate, Cheryl Makovsky, who demonstrates every day how women our age can still be creative, passionate teachers

Teaching is indeed an art, not a profession; and I am grateful to those who have encouraged and validated my individual expression. Thank you!

Blogger Sense

2007-09-23T20:32:00.000-06:00

Last year I struggled to make blogging a meaningful experience for my students, and at times I felt as if I assigned blog responses simply for the sake of requiring them to blog. This year, however, I have been delighted with blogging responses that make sense. For example, recently I asked my AP Language students to go beyond required assignments for Beowulf and investigate websites related to Anglo-Saxon literature, archetypal heroes, and additional epic adventures. I told students to find articles, artwork, and websites they found interesting and to share their discoveries on our class blog. Although I haven’t finished perusing all of their connections, I am delighted with what I’ve seen so far. If you’d like to see some of their responses, visit “The Best of All Intellectual Risk-Takers.”

http://ferrillp1.blogspot.com/

Igniting a Renaissance of Wonder

2007-08-20T20:56:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday, August 19th, the Perspective section of The Denver Post shared three articles about education. The first, titled, “How Can We Make Public Education Work?” by Tony Lewis, lamented yet another year of disappointing CSAP scores and suggested radical solutions such as “more student time spend in the classroom including …longer days, longer years, Saturday classes and after school tutoring.” The second article, “Break the Inertia with Drastic Measures” by Van Schoales, also proposed radical solutions such as getting “rid of teacher tenure,” and paying “for expertise, performance and student results, not years served.” The third article, “Awaiting—still—a Renaissance of Wonder” by Cherry Creek English teacher Michael Mazenko, described Mazenko’s dismay at the lack of wonder and passion in today’s teenagers and adults. About the lack of wonder in his students, Mazenko wonders, “ ‘have we killed it in [them] already?’ ” Happily, he concludes by describing the sense of discovery his own small children have ignited in him.

Guess which article made my heart pump faster. Guess which article made me eager to start the 2006-2007 school year. You guessed it: Mazenko’s reference to a Lawrence Ferlinghetti poem which includes the line, “I am awaiting, perpetually and forever, a renaissance of wonder.”

Although I am concerned about Arapahoe’s less than stellar CSAP and ACT scores, I’m not sure longer school days and school years will fix them as Lewis suggests. If anything, Arapahoe’s high achieving students will become even more overwhelmed by the number of AP classes and extra-curricular activities that define their success. The less successful ones will have more reason to zone out, skip classes, and complain about conventional hoops extended with more of the same academic rigor. If school days and years are lengthened, I hope we spend the extra time taking students to museums, giving them opportunities to volunteer for worthwhile causes, and encouraging them to learn about different cultures. They don’t need more of the same—they need a new perspective to help them appreciate all of the wonders this world offers.

And even though I agree with eliminating tenure and paying teachers higher wages to encourage excellence and abolish mediocrity, I just don’t believe it will happen. As long as well-known radio personalities suggest that athletes deserve multi-million dollar contracts while teachers deserve lower pay for a nine-month job anyone can do, we are fighting a losing battle against a negative public perception. Never mind all of the dribble about teaching being more of an art than a profession. And don’t consider how teachers hold the future of this country in their hands. Ignore the extra hours teachers spend meeting one-on-one with students, grading papers, creating five presentations a day, and agonizing over each individual student. The general public perception is that we have a job (not a career) anyone can do.

But I will not go gently into the end of my career. When I read Mazenko’s article reminding readers to recapture the wonder of childhood, I felt my passion for teaching once again ignite. My phoenix rose out of the ashes, and I knew my mission for this year: to create that “renaissance of wonder” in my students. So the very first day of class I will ask my AP students if they wonder why I assigned Beowulf over the summer. I will ask my sophomores why we teach so many “depressing” works of literatures rather than lighthearted pieces of escape fiction. And I will ask my Shakespeare students if they’ve ever wondered why Shakespeare is considered the greatest writer of all time. Then, after I ignite the first round of questions, I will hand them the torch. They must translate their wonder into questions.

Thank you, Michael Mazenko, for reminding me “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire” (William Butler Yeats).

Imagination is Better than Knowledge

2007-04-29T19:52:00.000-06:00

A week ago I read an article in the Rocky Mountain News that addressed some of the issues we discussed in our last 21st century class. In his column, "Imagination's Better Than Knowledge," Thomas Friedman, a columnist for the New York Times, discusses China's ability to become as innovative and competitive as America in the 21st century. Friedman quotes from a new biography by Walter Issacson called Einstein: His Life and Universe, and Friedman suggests that the very factors which stimulated Einstein's genius might prevent China from achieving its technological potential. Specifically, Isaacson's book describes Einstein as a man who "fled oppression. . . to think and express [himself] creatively." Einstein believed that "the only way to have creativity and imagination is to nuture free thought--rebellious free thought." Isaacson also says, "Einstein thought that the freest society with the most rebellious thinking would be the most creative. If we are going to have any advantage over China, it is because we nurture rebellious, imaginative free thinkers, rather than try to control expression." So Friedman wonders if "China [will] hit a ceiling on innovation because of its political authoritarianism."

Rebelliousness and authoritarianism. We certainly sounded like rebels a week ago Thursday as we discussed how to alter conventional attitudes toward education and actually change teaching strategies that stifle imagination rather than ignite it. I thought our comments about hours of meaningless homework, "easy vs. hard teachers," and traditional classes for non-traditional students were especially insightful. But I also sensed some nervousness about challenging a system that works--challenging those in authority-- even if a new system might work better. And yet, Friedman's article reminds us that institutions can only improve if they are challenged regularly. Complacency surely breeds mediocrity and boredom, even within ourselves. Or perhaps I should say especially within ourselves.

Our last session was invigorating for me. When Missy described her creative introductions to chemistry labs and Andrea validated their motivational power, I applauded the determination of these young teachers to use creative techniques that make their subject matter relevant. Friedman's article reminds us how Einstein "found sheer beauty and creative joy in science and equations." I've said it before, but I'll say it again: "Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire."

We must not go gentle into the 21st century. Friedman believes "a society that restricts imagination is unlikely to produce many Einsteins--no matter how many educated people it has." Imagination requires rebellious thinking because we dare to try what has not been tried before. Thank you, to all of you twenty-first century learners who have challenged me to try innovative teaching strategies. It has not been easy for me, and I don't think I've had a particularly stellar year in teaching; but I have definitely left my comfort zone and hope I can encourage young teachers to do the very "thing [they] think [they] cannot do" (Eleanor Roosevelt).

Bam! Bang! Pow!

2007-01-25T15:36:00.000-07:00

The information presented at our February session was both meaningful and timely. I’m always looking for better research techniques to pass along to my students, and Tracy Murphy’s presentation on subscription services was very helpful. I especially liked the idea of requiring students to annotate the sources they use to find information. By the time my AP students write a “synthesis” essay for their exam this coming May, they will need to assess the validity of the sources they use, and practice annotating sources should give them the experience they need to do well on this part of the test.

I also liked “The Big Ideas” group activity that followed our time in the computer lab. Sharing with other members of my department helped me reexamine my goals for specific classes I teach, and seeing connections with other departments reminded me to broaden the scope of my lessons. In fact, Christine Zisch, who teaches Psychology, has already given me two handouts to use with my classes when we discuss learning styles. Psychological issues often surface in literature, and it was fun sharing with Christine the several connections we might make between our classes. Talking about literature with a left-brained math teacher such as Jared Rottschafer was also helpful in reminding me that not all students relish analyzing characters, themes, and rhetorical strategies. Looking at my subject matter from a different perspective was illuminating, and I hope to have further discussions with Jared about reaching students who may not be planning to major in English.

Finally, Terry Sale ended our afternoon session with a bang. Literally. First he gave us background about the science fiction class he teaches, and then he showed us the antiquated slide show (yes, he used a projector and record player) he uses to introduce science fiction to his class each semester. Pow! Bang! Bam! I felt as if I were watching classic cartoons in motion. Then he modeled both constructivist and non-constructivist teaching methods for using this slide show. While watching the show, some of us took notes using a worksheet with blanks, and others simply wrote down impressions of what they saw. It soon became obvious that the worksheet was too confining, and he explained that his classes usually discover important ideas about science fiction without it. He has also challenged his students to update the slide show, and with advanced technology at their fingertips, the results should be impressive. After watching his presentation, I went home and created an assignment for my Shakespeare class: design a movie trailer for a scene from King Lear. The assignment was fun to create, and I can’t wait to see how the students react to it.

So—the day went well. Thank you to everyone who helped make it a success.

"Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful, but. . ."

2006-12-21T20:32:00.000-07:00

. . . two snow-days are simply delightful!

After grading all day yesterday and feeling semi-close to posting semester grades, I actually have time to blog. Tuesday was a frustrating day for me because I felt overwhelmed by the workload facing me the rest of this week, and I sensed most of the cohort members shared my mental fatigue. So, as far as the session went, I was somewhat disappointed because so few people participated in the Time article discussion. I even sensed a lack of enthusiasm during our sharing session although the people who did share certainly demonstrated creative, constructivist strategies!

Nonetheless, the discussion was valuable to me because I need feedback about my attitude toward teaching writing. It's harder and harder for me to teach effective writing skills, and I'm starting to reevaluate the importance I place on revision and corrections. The world seems mesmerized by pictures rather than words so I wonder if I'm just wearing myself out trying to convince students "the pen is mightier than the sword."

I did feel the discussion about future class activities was valuable. People seem ready to try more technological strategies in their classrooms, and I think it's a good idea to start with some hands-on activities and then discuss them after we've had a chance to practice what we've learned. As you know, I need lots of practice before I'm willing to risk trying a new method, so time in the computer lab would be welcomed.

Finally, as I said during class on Tuesday, I really wish we could have more of our sessions in the summer. I know some people dislike using vacation time for classes, but I think it's much harder to hold sessions during in-service days or final-exam days when we are exhausted from other activities. Taking this class a few hours each day for a week before school starts would jump-start the school year for me (notice I did not suggest we take the class at the beginning of summer). I think people would feel more energetic and excited about the scintillating ideas we want to share!

So--thank you to the Planning Team for all of your hard work in making our sessions meaningful, and happy holiday to you all. . . "and to all, a good night!"

After Midnight: A Confessional

2006-12-09T03:54:00.000-07:00

“Now o’er the one half world nature seems dead,
And wicked dreams abuse the curtain’d sleep.” (Macbeth)

It’s actually two hours and thirteen minutes after midnight on Saturday, December 9th, and I can’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep last night either, but then I was suffering the effects of an allergy shot I had received earlier in the day. When I saw my doctor today, he gave me yet another lecture on the adverse consequences of stress and told me to relax this weekend. Ha! I’ve been trying to purge my “heat-oppressed brain” (Macbeth) of all thoughts that “abuse the curtain’d sleep,” but I just can’t seem to pull out these “dagger[s] of the mind” (Macbeth). “Foh! About my brain!” (Hamlet)

Perhaps if I use Blogger as a confessional, I’ll find some relief. So here goes:

This has been one of the worst teaching years of my life. I have never been so far behind in my grading, felt so inept in the classroom, nor seen so many looks of frustration and stress in the eyes of my students. Ironically, last year was one of my best teaching years. So what happened? I’ve started to second-guess myself on everything I do in the classroom. When I hear a new strategy another teacher has tried, I want to try it too—but I don’t want to give up my strategies that have been so successful in the past. And so I’ve tried to do more and ended up not doing anything particularly well. When I look at projects on the Fischbowl, I’m impressed, but it takes time to learn the technology to use with these projects—and time is something I just don’t have (I’ll save that for another bullet). For example, I loved Kristen’s project using Photostory, and it reminds me of the Romantic Collage assignment I give my students second semester, where they define English Romanticism by finding a collection of poets, quotations, pictures, etc. and piecing items on regular old paper. The results are beautiful, and I completely cover a bulletin board with their work. In the past students have loved the results, but technology is seductive, so I think my students this year would rather do something on the computer rather than on paper. I’m also frustrated because I know constructivist teaching advocates “less is more,” but since we have changed Honors English Literature to AP Language, I must cover technical material that will help them be successful on the national exam. That means I’m rushing through masterpieces of literature without giving students that precious time to discover the beauty of the language on their own. I know—I know what you will say, Karl. I just have to give up some of these famous literary works—but which ones? I can’t bear to part with Chaucer, or Shakespeare, or Austen, or Waugh, or Huxley, or Wilde, or Donne, or Swift or, or, or, or, or….you get the picture. And suddenly, I’m in a pickle. My AP kids are performing Canterbury Tales presentations next Monday and Tuesday. In the past students have loved these presentations—this year I think they are dreading them. On Wednesday and Thursday of next week, we need to finish Macbeth and we still have two acts to read. Usually, I ham it up with them using the famous witch scene at the beginning of Act IV—but we don’t have time.
I’d better switch bullets before I totally lose my audience (I probably already have—oh well—I don’t expect many readers—I just need to vent. Let’s discuss TIME, since I mentioned it at least twice in my last rant. When I open my email each morning, my heart sinks. Emails from administrators, colleagues, parents and teachers fill my box, and all require an immediate response. I never grade at school anymore—I answer emails. Karl—you always send us so many wonderful sites to explore, but I usually click past those messages thinking I’ll return to them later when I have more time, but—you can guess what happens. I would love to have just one, entire day where I could visit all of the sites you’ve shared. I’ve saved them, and my mailbox is often over the size-limit. I also may have bitten off more than I can chew with taking the 21st Century class. I feel terrible that I do not blog as often as I should, respond to projects on the Fischbowl, or visit classrooms of other teachers. I keep wishing I could take this class in the summer when I have time to participate more completely.
Another Time Vampire? Letters of recommendation. I have never written so many as I have this year, and I have another seven due by the end of next week. What can I do? Should I just start telling kids, “No”? Why do colleges need these anyway—do they really make that big of a difference?
And the Holidays are approaching. Although I like ending first semester before Christmas, I wish we could finish at least a week earlier. Shopping, baking, going to holiday events—impossible. We’re expected to give rigorous final exams, but that means more essays to grade. On the last day of school most English teachers will be in the office until 4:00 or 5:00 (it happened last year) while the rest of the building will be empty by 2:00 or 3:00. My brother’s family arrives that Friday—this is the first Christmas without my mom—and I wanted to make is so special since our entire remaining family will be together. I don’t know if I have the time.
Okay—I’m going to stop—this is getting ridiculous and I sound so negative—but I do feel better, and I want to end on a positive note. I appreciate so much all you have done, Karl, to motivate teachers to become better teachers. I am so impressed by the young teachers at Arapahoe—you have really lit a fire under them, and everyone on the 21st Century Team has been so encouraging—and patient. I’ve been thinking recently that perhaps I should give up teaching AP. These young teachers have so much more energy to do all of the exploring and creating that overwhelms me. But—there I go again sounding negative, and I need to remind myself, “There’s nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so” (Hamlet). And, “This is not the worst as long as we can say it is the worst” (Lear).
Thanks. Now I’m going to grade some Writer’s Portfolios!

A Cornucopia of Thoughts

2006-10-30T15:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve really liked the blogging assignments I’ve given my students so far, but I am behind in responding to their comments. I’m notorious for writing too many comments on their essays, and I just can’t keep up with the blogging comments as well. Any suggestions?
I would also like to use unitingstreaming for some of my classes, but I can’t seem to find clips that fit with my curriculum. For example, I wanted to show a clip of Geoffrey Chaucer or The Canterbury Tales and I couldn’t find one. Any suggestions?
I’ve also enjoyed the last few classes we’ve had although I usually feel we just scratch the surface of a new technique and then move on to something else. But that’s probably just my problem—I’m slow to understand new technology. What I find myself wishing is that I could take this class during the summer—I’d love more time to digest all that we’re learning!
Finally, I wish to personally thank Jared Robinson for showing me how to create turkey bullets even though I could not bet them to work on Blogger! Happy Halloween.

Permission to Slow Down

2006-09-26T16:10:00.000-06:00

I, too, appreciated our group discussion in the library last Friday. I am always so impressed when people are willing to share their fears, concerns, and inadequacies in a public forum. After listening to several eloquent speakers, I breathed a sigh of relief and gave myself permission to slow down. You see, I have been feeling guilty because I’m not coming up with creative strategies for using the technology I now have at my fingertips. I’m always copying someone else’s idea and I feel like a sponge. I’ve only used Blogs a few times with two of my classes—and I liked the results—but I keep feeling I need to create an impressive lesson plan that others can adapt to their lessons. Consequently, I spend all of my time thinking about what I might try, but fear posting my ideas because they might not work well. “O what a rogue and peasant slave am I” (Hamlet). Meanwhile, I’m behind on my grading and not even implementing my old lesson plans in a particularly effective manner. So, it’s good to hear I’m not alone, and I think I need to spend some time in Joan’s basement to rejuvenate!

Another aspect of last Friday’s class I really appreciated was time to read personal and class Blogs in the computer lab. I really find it difficult to stare at a computer screen late at night. We spend so much time in front of our computers during the day—and my eyes begin to blur (perhaps it’s my age). So thank you for being flexible about adjusting our schedule and still giving us time to see the strategies others are using! Most of all, thank you for listening to us, encouraging us, and making us feel valued.

Does Constructivist Teaching Prepare Students for CSAP?

2006-09-22T07:40:00.000-06:00

I must admit—I’m cheating. After reading the article, “Honoring the Learning Process,” assigned for today’s homework, I’m ready to share some thoughts about it now rather than waiting for our discussion later today. And my initial reaction to the article is one of complacency—I already think most teachers at AHS practice constructivist teaching, at least in the English Department. In fact, I’m intimidated by the number of cooperative learning activities, questioning prompts, technology-based strategies, and blogging assignments designed by our teachers that require students to think. I started my teaching career 31 years ago, and the group of teachers I work with today are the most talented and passionate group of constructivists I have ever known. My students know how to ask higher-level thinking questions, how to lead student-centered discussions, and how to create meaning out of their learning, thanks to my gifted colleagues.

But my question is this: Does constructivist teaching prepare students for CSAP tests? The article emphasizes the importance of learning over performance and suggests, “Students educated in a setting that stresses performance learn that technique, rules, and memory matter more than context, authenticity, and wholeness.” But CSAP tests require students to recall grammatical rules, definitions of literary terms, and proper essay techniques. The test requires students to work alone, choose the “correct” answer, listen to teacher instructions, and concentrate on a single task for one hour at a time. Are we preparing our students for this type of test?

Now you may feel as many of our students do: CSAP tests are worthless. But in The World is Flat, Friedman says, “The crisis in our schools has its roots in American homes increasingly devoid of books and printed material where children turn exclusively to television, computers, and electronic games for entertainment—and see the adults around them doing the same. Instant-gratification technology has, for many students, replaced the task—and the thrill—of reading. One cannot develop solid writing skills without first being a decent reader; underdevelopment of these skills translates to low scores in standardized testing.” Friedman also talks about how too many American students have a poor work ethic—an ethic that requires learning the basic skills and, in some cases, rote memorization.

So—as constructivist teachers, how do we prepare students for CSAP?

Frenetic. . . Fragmented. . . Frazzled. . .

2006-09-15T15:32:00.000-06:00

It’s Friday afternoon, 3:30 p.m., and I’m running behind schedule. In fact, I’m about a week behind the lesson plans I created in August, and I’m trying to figure out what’s slowing me down. I’m proud of myself for trying new teaching strategies such as blogging, but I haven’t quite figured out how to “replace” old ones. My students have been such good sports, supporting my efforts to discuss online and make our discussions more student-centered; but I’m feeling out of sync and fragmented.

Wordsworth’s poem, “The World is Too Much With Us” keeps running through my head, and I want to be “a pagan suckled in a creed outworn” so I can look forward to a weekend for a change rather than dreading the piles of papers, laundry, letters of recommendation, and emails that need my immediate attention. It’s so tempting to keep teaching the way I’ve always taught because it takes so much time to try new strategies. I wish our district would switch to a four-day work week, and then I might feel I have time to rejuvenate. I’d like to blame my age—at 53 I just don’t have the energy I used to—but I probably need a personality transplant. I’m too “Type A,” too much of a perfectionist, and too passionate. How can Terry Sale be 54 (sorry, Terry, for publishing your age) and so laid-back, so organized, and so innovative? Well, at this point I’m going to adopt Scarlet O’Hara’s persona, because “after all, tomorrow is another day.”

Success!

2006-09-08T14:03:00.000-06:00

I am delighted with the results of my first class-blogging experience. I asked my AP students some questions about the novel they just finished reading, and overall, I found their responses insightful, eloquent, and authentic. Instead of responding to each of their comments (How do you find the time for so many comments, Karl?), I created a quick PowerPoint to show them samples of excellent and mediocre responses. Then I told them I would simply post a grade for each response based on the standards I emphasized with the PowerPoint presentation. A positive by-product of this lesson that I had not anticipated was the opportunity to insert some mini-grammar lessons as we read their posts. Usually I begin first semester by lifting sentences from their first in-class essays—this is a tedious process as I hand-write sentences I want to xerox. If I use blogging with all of my classes, I’ll never have to copy sentences again! Voila!

I also enjoyed the strong voice I discovered in their responses. Is it magic, or does some special force direct their hands when they type on a computer rather than write on paper? They seem to feel more liberated when writing in cyberspace—perhaps they sense a grander stage and feel more passionate their responses. I liked that. And I was not at all offended when one of my students posted a comment about our first class discussion that critiqued my teaching style:
Mrs. Ferrill, please take no offense, however, something I appreciated was that last year Ms. Kakos would hardly talk and let us initiate the entire discussion. Occasionally, she would chime in, but for the most part, she would not say much at all and if it was silent and no one was talking, she would just wait until someone did.
I really do need to extinguish that “sage on the stage” and look for the “guide on the side.” My problem is I love to perform, and I love seeing students’ faces light up when I ignite passion toward a specific author or piece of literature. Right before the beginning of the first final exam I gave last year, each student in the class stood up and recited a quotation I had taught them during the year—and they thanked me for sharing these masterpieces of the English language. I suppose that’s why I’m so selfish in hogging the stage—I have so many magical pieces to share. But I’m really going to try to zip my mouth more often. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

Taking the Plunge

2006-09-01T14:53:00.000-06:00

I finally set up two class blogging sites last night and gave my students the option to respond to my post. When I polled my classes today to see how many students already were registered to blog, most of them raised their hands--so I'm convinced they are ready and eager for the blogging to begin. However, I'm still nervous. One of my students in 5th hour asked me a question about editing her personal blog address, and I couldn't answer it. I hate feeling unprepared, but I know these questions are part of my learning curve. However, when one of my students from first hour stayed after class to ask me what a blog was, I felt quite enlightened in being able to tell her. She's a new student from Highlands Ranch, and her question reminded me just how technologically advanced AHS is compared to other schools (thank you, Karl).

Otherwise, I'm still worried about the amount of time blogging might take once my students begin responding on a regular basis. I've noticed that several teachers are now sitting at their computers during lunch trying to read blogs. I'm often too much of a perfectionist, and I'm afraid I'm going to feel compelled to read every word they write and respond to each comment. I still battle writing too many comments on their essays.

But I'm convinced blogging is a direction I must go. One of my students from last year told me today that she had posted some questions she had about a novel she was reading for an AP independent study. She said another student who had read the same novel responded with several helpful insights, and she really appreciated the opportunity to bounce ideas off other students, not just her teachers. So--the temperature is still a little cold, but I'm keeping my head above water.

Are You Water-Blogged Yet?

2006-08-23T15:29:00.000-06:00

So many thoughts have been crowding my brain (and I don't have a lot of space in there) since school started one week ago. Everyone is blogging--here, there, and everywhere. Will students start to tire of this process now that so many teachers are using it? I'm hoping to start blogging with my junior honor students in about a week if I can get into the computer lab, and I want to make the process meaningful. I've been reading numerous student blogs, and several of them are so carelessly delivered--are the kids sick and tired of posting on-line? I don't know.

I also talked to Anne today about the value of writing papers by hand. If we train kids to live in a paperless society, does that mean no one will ever write thank-you notes again, and no one will send love letters scented with perfume and filled with rose petals? Will students have trouble writing their AP English exams because they no longer use pencil and paper?

Despite my misgivings, I am determined to try blogging with my classes. In fact, I loved the Chaucer Blogging site you emailed to us, Karl; and I'm thinking of doing something similar with my Shakespeare class. It would be fun to see students adopt The Bard's persona and share thoughts from his point of view. I just need the courage to begin the process.

Let's Get It Started

2006-08-16T20:34:00.000-06:00

On the eve of the 2006-2007 school year, I find myself reflecting on my focus for this year. I will admit, when I read The World is Flat, I wondered how much impact I could have on a world that worships math and science. Friedman even suggests our politicians should be engineers and scientists. But when I reached the section of the book that describes igniting a passion for learning in our students, I realized it's not too late for me to take an important role in preparing our kids for a flat world. You see, my husband has visited Japan at least three times on business exchanges, and he insists that even if the Asians surpass us in productivity, they still lag behind in creativity. I know Friedman addresses this issue in his book and says that both the Chinese and Indian people are aware of the need to foster creative thinking, but I still think American ingenuity, risk-taking, and bravado take a back-seat to no other country.

So what does that mean for me personally? Certainly Language Arts classes are designed as opportunities for students to be creative, but I also believe that "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." Now--I just need to risk trying some new ignition possibilities. The first blog opportunities I give my junior AP students will probably be a fairly mundane one: React to your summer reading. Obviously this directive isn't argumentative in nature unless students disagree about the value of a novel read. But their responses might ignite a fire in another student when I assign the next independent study. Also, I need to feel confident that I know how to set up this blogging system. Then I would like to post some reaction papers to the assigned readings from class and ask sections of the class to give feedback. I'm a little worried about a blogging overload, so I hope to focus on a few comments at a time. On the other hand, Karl has convinced me I don't need to read every comment, and I do like the idea of using the posts to continue unfinished discussions from class. Honors/AP students always have more to say that we can listen to in one class period and continuing their conversations on-line appeals to me.

So--at least this is a start.

It's a Flat World After All

2006-08-07T22:04:00.000-06:00

Reading The World is Flat was truly an eye-opener for me, and listening to my colleagues react to the text, ignited in me a spark of enthusiasm that I really need going in to the new school year.

This summer has not been an easy one for me because I am still adjusting to losing my mother just two weeks before school ended. I have felt a sort of malaise consuming me for the past few months and I have not felt the normal anticipation for starting a new school year that usually propels me into this very demanding profession. In fact, I bought The World is Flat right after school ended, but I had trouble connecting with the ideas until I reached the section of the book talking about how the new world will affect students, teachers, parents, etc. When I read the section where Friedman talks about choosing teachers based on their ability to inspire passion for learning, I suddenly felt that familiar pull to get back in the classroom and set my students on fire (I speak metaphorically, of course). One of my favorite quotations has always been, "Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire," so this text reminded me why I love to teach.

Our class this morning helped me reaffirm so many aspects of good teaching: students need time to share ideas in small groups before drawing the big picture; students need modeling of new skills, helpful facilitators, and practice; students need empowering to create a safe environment for learning; and students need food! (Well--perhaps some candy from time to time.)

Thank-you for giving this thirty-one-year-teaching-veteran a chance to learn new teaching strategies and connect with other teachers. I can already tell I will learn so much from other teachers and rejoice in knowing, "It's a flat world after all" (to be sung to the tune, "It's a Small World")!