Ms aposiOpesis

Here’s your chance, students and teachers and friends of students and teachers.  All four of you who occasionally read here, that is.

Here’s your chance to sound off about “schooliness,” that hated, soul-sucking abyss that we teachers and students often (too often) find ourselves falling into, myself included.

What is “schooliness,” you ask?  Good question.  Burell provides a few roadmaps to find answers, but the rest is up to you.

And he’s put in a call for you to provide your own examples.  You should have plenty.

Even students in my classes, I’m sorry to say, will have plenty.

Link to Burell’s Change.Org “Evils of Schooliness” blog, with open request.

Tags: blogs, Burell, education, favorites, Schooliness

This is my fifth year coaching Mock Trial at MHS; a former student of mine asked me to help her get the program going that summer of 2004.  We petitioned the school board after gathering information, and I finished that year with eight students–the bare minimum–who were willing to put in the time and effort.

We did very well our inaugural year—made it to fourth round.  And, as I recall, I was in the hospital for at least one of the rounds.

What a year!

In the years since, the team has expanded–I’m on my second year of two teams, and I have 21 students involved right now in grades 9-12.  We’ve done well every year, last year coming within a few points of going to State.

I believe in this program.  Those involved learn confidence, logic, critical thinking, and their ability to communicate ideas and perspectives increases dramatically.  Poise, civility, the ability to not express anger at bad judging…all of that is important.

These kids start their work in late September/early October, and practice several times a week for four months.  We generally meet evenings, weekends (countless hours in a neighboring Courthouse on Saturdays practicing), Christmas vacation.  They write, they edit, they memorize, they research, they perform.

All that for only two guaranteed trials.  Months and months of work for about three hours’ total performance time (though we usually move on to further rounds).

So, what’s my gripe?

All this work, and we pay the State Bar $250 per team, and they do, indeed, try very hard to make things run smoothly, but I’m always astounded at how little the official judges (mostly lawyers volunteering their time) actually know.  We have more terrible judges than good ones, unfortunately, and it’s been that way every year.  (Again, it’s not the State Bar’s fault–Emily Reilly, head of the state’s Mock Trial program for a few years now, works her butt off and she’s got things running soooo much more smoothly than her predecessor–she’s my hero!)

They, more often than not, do not know the differences in rules between Mock Trial and real courtroom behavior. They don’t allow responses to objections (even though it’s in the rules and that’s how we’re supposed to score points), they don’t know the time limits, they don’t know how we’re guided to introduce exhibits.

They don’t know how the scoring works–last year, we had a nice judge who agreed, afterward, that my team had kicked major butt over the other team, but didn’t want the other team to feel bad so she awarded points only a few numbers apart.  She wasn’t aware–it hurts to even say this–that we advance rounds by the total *differential* between scores, not just by winning.  When I informed her, she was horrified by what she’d done, but couldn’t change it.

They don’t follow procedure, often, and even those that claim to have several years’ experience seem oblivious to the basic rules, much of the time.

And, perhaps most onerous, every trial is supposed to have two judges–that helps alleviate some of the subjectivity and lack of knowledge of rules.  So, how often do we, out here in the rural world, actually get two judges?

In five years, I could probably count on one hand the number of trials, during rounds 1 and 2, that we’ve had two judges.  It’s to the point where we coaches are pleasantly surprised when we see two there.

So, my kids get shortchanged.  It’s not just about winning or losing–my varsity team won on Wednesday, as well they should have–but about missing chances to use what they’ve learned.  It’s about their having donated hundreds of hours of time, plus money to participate, to have to be subject to the off-rules whims of lawyers who don’t know what’s up.

Is this a good object lesson about how life isn’t always fair, and we need to learn to rise above it?  Absolutely.

And I also am grateful that these lawyers and judges donate their time for a program that involves driving to other courtrooms, spending a couple of hours listening to novices try a case, scoring and offering comments, when they could be doing something more fun or lucrative.

But is it too much to ask that they know the rules?  That they know how to freaking SCORE (especially since guides are readily available at the state website, and scoring rules are clearly delineated)?

It breaks my heart every time I see my kids shot down without warrant simply because the Judge wasn’t aware of the rules.  At the same time, I’m inevitably so very proud of my kids when they accept such judgements with equanimity and respect, as they’ve learned, even if it’s not right.

I love my Mock kids.  But for this kind of time and money, I want well-trained judges, especially when everything rides on just two trials after months and months of work.

Tags: Extracurricular, fairness, judging, mock, mocktrial, students

I gave my Web 2.0 presentation today at the extended faculty meeting–I took nearly an hour and I still wasn’t finished.  Sheesh.  Good thing I cut it back, eh?

I’m not sure if I was very helpful to people, but I hope so.  I began by asking the assembled faculty if any of them knew what “web 2.0″ was; not a single hand went up.  That was actually nearly reassuring; it meant that I wouldn’t be talking down to them.  I hate it when that happens, from either side of the communication.

A few more joined the faculty ning I set up over Christmas break–that’s a good sign.  Quite a few who had joined right away and then forgot also showed up today—adding some information, discussing other things.  A good start.  And, a group of us had a meeting today about doing interdisciplinary lessons and performance preparation for the concert that’s on Cinco de Mayo–we came up with some neat ideas–and we immediately said we need to add a group for that purpose on the faculty ning.  Yay!

Drop by drop.

Also had a discussion about YouTube (and subsequently Nibipedia and Wordia) being blocked.  It sounds as if most of the faculty (if not administration) supports unblocking it and finding other means of monitoring students than wholesale locked gates.

We’ll see where that goes, as well.  Drop by drop!

In other news, grades are due this week (I have hundreds of papers I’ve been putting off) and Round One of Mock Trial competition (I have two teams, and both play the same day) on Wednesday.  Preparing for a sub for the whole day plus the stress of the trials (I lose years of my life each time) added to the grading, AND a new semester starting tomorrow, and I’ve about had it.

Might explain the migraine I’ve been nursing all day, one that promises to gather strength if I keep heaping stress on like Mrs. Tam O’Shanter nursing her wrath to keep it warm…(one of my all-time favorite lines of poetry, there–thanks Robbie Burns!)

Oh…the insulting part of the day?  The insurance meeting.  We have a pay freeze on, statewide (Governor Pawlenty), but our already outrageous health insurance is going up at least 20%.  I have no idea where I’ll find that kind of money–we already aren’t making it, and my husband doesn’t even *have* insurance.

I’m trying not to think about it right now.  Not this week.  I can’t physically afford the worry.  Once grades are in, once Mock Trial is over, then I’ll spend the time to deal with having two degrees, several years experience, working a gazillion hours a week, but not being able to support myself doing so.

Tags: grading, inservice, teaching, web2.0

…something happened today that is making think about it.

My tenth graders just finished reading Elie Wiesel’s Night, and they’re now working on culminating projects.   One of the groups is doing a “Who was Hitler, really” kind of thing, researching his life and trying to figure out how someone like him happened.

We were all in the lab today, and one of the girls in the group–obviously reading some informative site–asked me, “Ms O, what’s ‘mein kampf”?”

As I always remind my students, it’s not my job to provide answers but to help guide them to arriving at their own answers–which is much harder, usually, than the former.  For both of us.  So, I said, “I think you should research that.  Go see what you can find, and we’ll talk in a few minutes.”

About twenty seconds later–I hadn’t even rounded to the other side of the lab, yet–the same girl, after doing a search, said, “Ms O?  The filter blocked it.  Says it’s ‘hate speech’.”

Well, of *course* it’s hate speech…Hitler freaking wrote it! For the love of all that’s educational!

Frak!

Two years ago, I had a senior girl unable to do most of her research for a paper at school because she was researching breast cancer research.  God forbid a student accidentally stumble on a picture or description of a human body part, even in the interests of healthy research.  This same student had family members personally touched by this terrible disease, and really wanted to write this paper and learn more about it herself…so, she did so from home.

Because the filter wouldn’t let her type in “breast” and get any results.

A year or so before that, I had a student writing about the ravages of meth–something that definitely touches many here in the rural backwater.  Meth is quite a prominent, and deadly, drug in these parts.

What happened?  He couldn’t look up figures from NIDA–the National Institute on Drug Abuse–because–yep, you guessed it–it was blocked.  He couldn’t look at any site that included “drug”, just as my other student couldn’t look at any site including the word “breast.”  (No looking up chicken recipes!)

It’s enough to make any educator, anyone who cares about quality education, anyone who’s not tied into a veritable knot about “safety of children!!!!!!!” with a dozen exclamation points.

Our children will, most certainly, NOT be safe if we don’t teach them responsible internet use, don’t allow them to use the word “breast” or look up drug use statistics, or learn about a crazy, paranoid, dangerously-charismatic wingnut mass murderer.  We’ll send them off without any tools, without the ability to *educate themselves*.

All in the misguided ruse of “protecting” them.

So, today, when my student said she wasn’t allowed to look up Hitler’s book in a public school in supposedly the world’s “most free” country, even with a teacher’s blessing, I very nearly had a conniption.  (My students know how I feel about filters, and I had twenty-five pairs of eyes on me immediately–I’m proud to say that I did keep my cool, although I explained why I was angered by the filter.)

I said, “Well, the term means ‘my struggle,’ but I wanted you to find that out on your own, and it’s the title of a book Hitler wrote.”

And, so, I’m not going to break Godwin’s Law. I’m not going to compare a totalitarian, Big Brother-esque mandatory internet filter to…

…um, nope.  I think you can connect the dots just fine.

Edit:  1/16/09, to add italics to book title

Tags: education, filter, internet, LA 10, net nanny, protection, teaching

Imagine this:

You’re in a darkened, metal box.  Someone–someone evil, mind you–has set up a laser-and-mirrors gig so there are constantly-moving red lights around you in the dark, but you can’t quite find their source or track them easily.

It’s far too warm in the box.  And you don’t have room to lie down; you can lean against the walls, but they’re rough and spiky.

Your stomach is unsettled and you know you’re mere nanseconds away from losing your sandwich-and-yogurt lunch (one your awesome husband lovingly made and packed for you this morning).

While you’re enjoying all of these sensations, someone (again, someone evil) has loosened several sharp-toothed weasels to leap and crawl around (they have claws, as well) inside the metal box, and outside, several evil someones are pounding on the metal walls, with hammers, in various asynchronous, unrelenting rhythms.

In short, this is a day teaching while having a migraine after not being able to sleep the night before.

Just so you know. 

Tags: migraine, teaching

Too hilarious not to share.  From our friends at Boing Boing, here’s a narration of Star Wars from someone who’s neither a fan nor…well…a viewer…

So, after that, I have to ask: What classic movies (or books) have you been hearing about your entire life but haven’t seen or read?  How much of the classic could you actually speak to, however, simply be living in the culture that has produced it?

I just finished The Odyssey with tenth graders, and one of the reasons I teach it is because it’s the foundation of so much of Western literary culture; allusions and references to it are unavoidable.  Even without having read it, many could pick out these allusions and references (without full understanding, of course).

I know that I could tell you the motif song of Casablanca before I ever saw it, and I can pick up on students’ catch-phrases and T-shirts from Napolean Dynamite though I still haven’t seen it (but I want to).

How about you?

Tags: Boing Boing, Casablanca, classics, Napoleon Dynamite, Star Wars

A few weeks ago, I wrote about one of my new heroes, Myron Rolle, and it’s with great pleasure that I find I’m respecting him still further.  Paraphrasing Rachel Maddow this evening, the young man was given the choice between going to Oxford and studying very, very hard for a while or going off to be a big star in the NFL and makes lots of money.

He chose the Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford.  He’s pre-med.

I don’t mean to say that playing for the NFL is for slackers, or that it doesn’t require discipline.  It most certainly does, and I do have great respect for athletes who do it for the right reasons, have fun with it, and play fair while working hard.

I only mean that many of us, especially today, think fame and fortune is everything.  “If only I could be in People magazine/ SI, and make millions of dollars, and be beautiful and athletic, my life would be perfect!”  I hear variations on that theme from a great many students.

Heck, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that once or twice in my life, I’d entertained daydreams of writing the Great American Novel and seeing my work in bookshop windows.

I’m impressed with Mr. Rolle for a great many reasons, as I delineated earlier; I’m further impressed that he chose to change the world and improve his brain, his long-range future, and work out others of his talents.

I hope he also manages to find fame and fortune on the grid, if that’s what he chooses later (as he believes he will).  I suspect he’ll manage to be a success–however he measures it–in whatever he chooses to do.  My hat’s again off to him, and he inspires me.

Tags: education, hero, Myron Rolle, Oxford

Back before I started my teaching degree, I, like so many others, had grandiose plans for the cool projects I’d have my kids do…great authentic learning, exhuberant participation, impressive end results.

Somewhere along the line, reality–cleverly disguised as complacence in the face of standardized testing and too-little-time and pressure from a hundred different sources–sets in, and some of us, myself included, wind up with yet another stack of five-paragraph essays and monotonous worksheets.

There are interludes that snap us out of this jaded burden-bearing of too-many-restraints: excellent workshops and conferences, the occasional inspirational book, world-changing events…

…a good nap or Christmas vacation.

And, in the modern age, there are wondrous things like blogs and twitter and facebook and listservs, all managing to keep the complacence in check.  They don’t eradicate it, at least with me, but they do manage to give it a good run.

One of these teacherly-mood-lifters arrived this week with yet another one of Clay Burell’s “get up and make it real” blog postings, this one on his brand-new blog over at Change-dot-org.  It’s this one, and it even contains a cool informative video.

Today, I shared the blog and video by posting it to the faculty ning I set up (and which is not being used hardly at all, but I’m patient and will keep harassing people to share ideas and collaborate until they either do or I’m fired).  I sent out a little in-school e-mail alerting folks to it, and asked that they view the video before next week’s faculty meeting where I’m presenting some of the cool things I learned at TIES (see a previous blog, and this one, too.)

I got a phone call from my Principal–he loved it and was excited, too.  He was forwarding my e-mail on to other educators in other places.  And he stopped by the lab today when my tenth-graders were signing into the class wiki I set up.

We’re a small place in the middle of nowhere.  Very, very small place.  Very far from any sizeable place.  The nearest Kinko’s is about 85 miles away or more, for crying out loud.   You don’t have to lock your doors here, and there’s a “lake of poo” for (supposed) sewage treatment. 

Connections are important.   These tools–the ones Burell talks about in the video–make us count, and connect us to the larger world. 

And that’s exciting—and the perfect antidote to jaded complacence and fill-in-the-oval-asinine-testing as the most important facet of assessment.

Tags: education, inspiration, technology, tools

I’ve had eight days to overhaul my house (it’s been a bad year and things have gotten waaaay out of hand), plan great lessons, and finish my overdue grading.

So, when did I start?  Two hours ago.

Am I surprised?  Nope.

Here’s the deal…I do have honest-to-goodness reasons why it’s been hard getting everything done the last couple of years.  I’ve spent more time in hospitals and doctors’ offices than I have with friends, I’ve had eight surgical procedures done in, what, the last two years, and my chronic illnesses leave me exhausted, in pain, with cognition and vision issues that make it very hard to do much beyond my teaching and Mock Trial–and even then, some days I’m barely functional by 4:00 or 5:00 p.m.

However–and I must be honest–I cannot, in good conscience, blame all this procrastination on that.

I am, and have always been, the kind of person who, instead of getting more done on days off, needs the external push-in-the-rear to really get going.  Once I’m off and running, I’m fine and can accomplish a great deal (until the vision or body gives out).  So while I may fantasize about all the time I’ll have during vacations, that’s not really true.  What will happen is that I will shut down, recharge my batteries, and get very little done.

And hate myself for it.

In college, I was the person finishing (er…starting?) my papers the night before the due date…and actually usually doing quite well with them.

I’m the teacher who wishes–oh, how I wish–for a one-month summer break and longer breaks throughout the school year, because summers are wasted on me.  I’m bored after a couple of weeks, I become a vegetable, and I hate hot weather anyway (I’m so Scandinavian in biology it’s ridiculuous).  I can’t wait for school to start again and I’m not afraid to admit it.

I do my best work under pressure, even if it does take years off my life.  At my age, I should accept this.

So, while I did have a really bad flare this week that kept me unable to do much, and I did spent many, MANY constructive hours doing online planning and networking and self-education, I haven’t accomplished my goals for this break at all.  And I go back on Monday.

And that’s who I am, I guess, and perhaps I can understand my students who are the same way a bit more because of this, too; be a little more forgiving, a little more flexible.

Okay, break’s over.  I’m finished with the bathroom (sparkly clean with an open vanity sans bottles and dispensers) and partly done with the kitchen, and I may as well continue now that I’m already rather hot and smelling of bleach and Comet™.

I am who I am. 

Tags: faults, procrastination, vacation