Hey John,

There’s been plenty of conversation about adding more time to the school day and its usefulness in the current environment. The overemphasis on the quantity versus the quantity prompted a blog I wrote recently that took a satirical look at how schools could use more instructional time.

Renee Moore, one of our favorite bloggers on this program, took a more serious look at this topic in her recent post.

Slowly, we are realizing that learning and time do not have to be conjoined. It is not only possible, but possibly much better for students to learn at varying paces, based on the subject matter, availability of resources, their particular learning strengths, interests, and weaknesses–moving toward common goals, but arriving from different directions.

This “personalization” of education doesn’t necessitate online learning, though that’s an available route. The more salient route might be to get a better understanding of schedule, and for that matter, what school means. The Carnegie units of school may give a good framework for people who don’t know where to start from, but limit those who truly want to innovate learning.

Why do we expect learning and / or schooling to be linear when we as humans aren’t? Good points by Renee overall, and worth a read.

Hey John,

You said:

… you should know that when my chair came out of teaching to pursue his Ph.D. he fully planned on going back to the classroom when he finished his degree. He told me recently of a conversation with a lauded researcher he studied with in the field of early childhood education that influenced his thinking about his career direction. He said that his mentor asked him, “What are you going to do when you finish?” My chair answered, “I am going to go back to the classroom to teach.” His mentor said, “People don’t get Ph.D.s to go back to the classroom to teach. You have an entirely different set of skills with which to contribute to the field now.” That statement struck a chord with me. You ask, “Will I keep teaching?” The answer is yes, until I am not meant to but, I do have a new set of tools.

Off hand, I know at least five people in my wider circle who have education careers that yearn for that classroom again. You’ve developed a set of skills that no one can take away from you anymore, and that you couldn’t have picked up by staying in the middle of the action. Lots of people, from union activists to administrators, have yearned for the chance at getting back to the daily grind of the classroom. The connection with the kids matters so much, and brings a certain passion that you can’t get from the humdrum of correlation studies and number-crunching.

That’s why, when we have these discussions on the future of teaching, we have to keep in mind that some of our “allies” were once teachers as well, those who have kept an eye on what happens in the classroom because they’ve had some experience in it. In no way does it mean that everyone who’s ever been in the classroom has a similar mindset to us, but for those who intentionally taught the way we do, with the fire under our hearts and the air under our feet, we can go anywhere and still work under the mindset that, yes, this stuff is hard and it matters.

Those who intentionally or unintentionally left the classroom and still work in education often tell me how they couldn’t match the classroom experience anywhere they went. Until we can truly raise the status of teachers to the rest of the country (financially and otherwise), many of those feelings may still linger. Teachers will keep leaving the classroom in favor of jobs and titles that expand their opportunity without risk of jealousy or, much worse, removal.

It’s the art of looking back to look forward.

Hey John,

First, let me congratulate you on your getting your PhD. You’ve obviously earned it, and you continue to be an invaluable asset to all your different communities, especially in the early childhood arena so in need of advocacy in a major way.

While the title “PhD” has often been reserved for those in the field of medicine, a friend told me that it originally meant that, no matter what the field, the person was a master teacher. Sure enough, I look on Wikipedia and see:

In the universities of Medieval Europe, study was organized in four faculties: the basic faculty of arts, and the three higher faculties of theology, medicine and law (canonical and civil). All of these faculties awarded intermediate degrees (bachelor of arts, of theology, of laws, of medicine) and final degrees. Initially, the titles of master and doctor were used interchangeably for the final degrees, but by the late Middle Ages the terms Master of Arts and Doctor of Theology/Divinity, Doctor of Laws and Doctor of Medicine had become standard in most places (though in the German and Italian universities the term Doctor was used for all faculties). The doctorates in the higher faculties were quite different from the current Ph.D. degree in that they were awarded for advanced scholarship, not original research.

Understanding this history made me think that, as teachers, our practice constantly pushes us to do better, understand more, and broaden our scope as the children in front of us change. In a way, this is our “advanced scholarship.”

In New York State, teachers are generally required to get a masters in education to continue teaching. Many of the complaints coming from teachers who go through the program have to do with the heavy dependency on philosophy and not enough on practice. What does real classroom management look like? How do I explain why we have negative exponents? What’s the most effective way to show kids the scientific method?

We would do well to discuss the future of education schools in the vein of necessity.

For instance, a masters’ in education can lean more towards practice, and, in certain situations, localize the message so teachers can start using the best practices they’ve learned immediately. They can get some of the philosophy, but let that philosophy stay embedded in practice. As we become veterans, some of us stay curious about the “why,” meaning we want to either pursue positions that let us teach other teachers or broaden our scope. For those of us who are extra-curious, we can have PhD programs (as we do now) that address this population.

I also believe that, because we already engage in advanced scholarship, we would already have built-in tracks for following up with a PhD while teaching. That is, without breaking the bank or getting a fellowship, thus pulling us out of the classroom.

What do you think, good doctor?

Hey John,

Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to give your friend a writing prompt.

Seriously, the first few days have been buzzing with excitement. I’m particularly impressed with my students’ ability to use the proofs we’ve developed for some laws of exponents and apply them to problems we haven’t yet discussed.

But, along with a new school year comes new initiatives. Every teacher goes through this. Arthur Goldstein writes in Schoolbook:

“Thank you all for coming. It’s great to see you all energized and ready for another school year. Personally, I just can’t wait to get started,” the person will say.

“We have this Thing. You must do this Thing. This is the only Thing that works. We will observe you and pay very close attention to whether or not you do it, because you can’t possibly teach unless you do it every single day without exception. But don’t worry, because it’s the best. After we tell you about it, you’ll break into groups, try it, and report back to us.”

Experienced teachers often disappoint presenters by failing to get sufficiently excited. They ask disrespectful questions, like what happened to last year’s Thing? They are invariably told it’s out. It’s not the Thing anymore.”

It might be the best description of the first week of faculty meetings for schools nationwide. The Common Core State Standards (and multiple intelligences, the workshop model, and the host of other initiatives I’ve seen) have brought along their own set of pseudo-experts coming in to tell teachers what to teach, how to teach, and, inevitably why.

The last one is particularly insulting because I’d wager most educators know why they’re in their profession, but one of the first rallying speeches always alludes to a talking point used by another expert out there. “We have failed our kids …” and “We keep doing kids a disservice for as long as we have …” doesn’t inspire, much to the dismay of people from the outside. If anything, it discourages because it assumes that those of us who, under the guidance of the former supervisors did these things, didn’t have the best intention when we tried to teach.

That’s another reason why I keep advocating (as Center for Teaching Quality does) for teacher-based solutions.

What I mean is simple (but not easy): having teachers actually research and test out best practices for the classroom, continuously reflecting and retooling their methods, and teaching accordingly. One of the best math teachers I ever worked with always used to say that, no matter how great a year went, she would toss out all the lesson plans because, if she’s using the same ones, she can easily fall into the trap of not thinking about the lessons she’s teaching.

While I’m sure most of that was hyperbole, the message remains the same. Effective teachers think and rethink their days, sometimes right on the spot. We plan and adjust, move with the winds, bob and weave. But if the reforms are teacher-based, they often feel more like a natural process than another forced-upon task to complete. That’s why, for instance, I’ve given some props to my district’s professional development with some of its schools around pedagogy and task creation: the pieces don’t come from on high, but from teachers’ own prompts, vetted by students.

Good administrators secretly believe this. On any level.

The new thing for the year will constantly come in, no matter what that thing is, but now it’s time to solidify, strengthen, and lay permanent the idea of teacher expertise. We can do it. And keep it for years on end.

Hey John,

Your last post on here where you discuss the intricacies of teaching and learning as a balance makes great sense. These days, the buzz around edu-techers centers around three topics: MOOCs (massive open online classroom), flipped classrooms, and Khan Academy. I’ll try to kill all three birds with one stone (hoping it boomerangs at some juncture) because, while some of us would rather not think about it, the online movement is most certainly here to stay. How schools, districts, and our country choose to use online learning matters lots here.

For instance, at the Celebration for Teaching and Learning 2012, I got a chance to hear him speak. I came in trying to have a measure of objectivity, just taking in the show I knew I would witness. Sure enough, he had a few jokes, a few highlights, and some success stories. That’s good, fantastic. Upon reflection, I realized that any instructional coach who came with their administrator or superior would immediately get asked the question, “So how do we bring that to our school?”

The coach or math teacher would roll their eyes hard and say, “Let me give it a look.” (Full disclosure: I did.)

Alas, Khan’s style of teaching math reminds you of your cousin who tried to give you a bunch of shortcuts and neat tricks to help you pass the next test. In the words of Ilana Horn:

Although learning and achievement are related, they are not the same. Learning happens when students deepen and extend their knowledge of mathematical ideas. Achievement reflects how they are progressing in school. Most educators recognize the imperfect correlation: some students progress without understand, whereas other students understand without progressing.

- excerpt from her book ​Strength in Numbers: Collaborative Learning in Secondary Mathematics​, NCTM 2012

Khan Academy often feels less like learning and more like achievement. What’s more, he gave us a snippet of a classroom where kids used the videos to learn math, then took online quizzes sponsored by Khan to decide whether the student gets to watch the next video. The teacher tracks their individual project and all they have to worry about on paper is whether the technology works and if they get Khan’s jokes. Originally, I understood Khan’s vision for these videos to serve for tutoring purposes and for refreshers for different subjects, and these videos work well for that purpose.

Yet, at some point, it went from a well-meaning and chummy vision for helping on the side to having Sal Khan become the center of learning. My question is simple: if indeed his system of teaching students math is revolutionary, then what is the ultimate difference between what he perceives as teacher-directed learning and Khan-directed learning? I have yet to get a clear answer on that. Can’t a teacher just get neon chalk, turn off the lights, and make jokes too? Can’t the teacher stop, take questions, and go back and do the lesson all over again just like Khan proposes for his videos?

Will a million Khan videos with a million YouTube videos solve 100% of students’ understandings of math? Doubt it.

Thus, the feedback from connected teachers from across the world has been astounding (including the aforementioned video / article). Let me overstate the obvious: if learning and teaching are interrelated, then the quality of teaching ought to reflect the quality of learning. Whether you’re in a classroom of 5000 people, 30, 12, or 1, the person teaching ought to understand their subject enough to anticipate questions, not simply breeze over.

The trend of gamifying our culture has had some benefits in other areas. Weight Watchers uses a points system to discourage customers from eating fatty foods. Nike+ has developed a specialized program (with shoes!) that help you compete against others through exercise. Klout uses equations to help rank people and brands through social media. Games often find themselves in the tools we as teachers use to encourage kids to learn skills.

But there’s a huge difference between what those examples and Khan has evolved into; all those examples only supplement their ultimate purposes. Khan Academy’s mission now includes replacing and / or undermining the expert in the classroom.

Worst of all, Larry Ferlazzo recently mentioned on his Twitter that they’re expanding into computer science, quizzical since some of us have a hard time decoding what he does for middle school math.

*image courtesy of http://www.patheos.com/blogs/exploringourmatrix/2011/11/monkeys-typewrit...