Hey, Miss S!

When I was home this week, I had the great opportunity to return to my high school and have a conversation with the Director of the Upper School.  I really love going back and visiting my high school and saying “hi!” to my former teachers, and Friday was no different.

During my conversation with Mr. H, he asked a question along the lines of – “What is your opinion about teacher education programs?  Many are getting a bad rap right now.”

I had to pause before answering this question.  What could I say about Get Real! Science?  How could I possibly explain this program?

I started at the beginning.

We are not told how to teach; we are shown how to teach.  We were thrown into Lake Ontario and did real science and answered a culturally relevant question and defended our work in front of community members.  Then we threw a bunch of middle schoolers into Lake Ontario and provided proper scaffolding for them to answer the same culturally relevant question.  We made camp fun.

We learned to lesson plan by planning REAL lessons.  We struggled with and analyzed educational theory.  We geeked out by listening to Carol Lee speak in Hoyt Auditorium.  We griped about leaving our field experience placements early every Thursday, only to have our faces light up when our STARS girls walk into the room.

We wrote blog after critical commentary after critical synthesis after response paper after discussion board pre-post and post-post.  Pages and pages and pages of struggles and victories.

We took over classes.  We strived to make our classrooms safe and equitable.  We multitasked and stayed up late because we knew we had to…for the kids.  It was always for the kids.

We collaborated.  We leaned on each other and we helped each other brainstorm lessons.  We pushed each other to be better.

We made it through student-teaching and a zillion hours of master’s coursework at the same time.

Today, some of us got together and collaborated to brainstorm evidence for our portfolio standards.  It’s been a real trip to look back on what we’ve done so far in this program.  May 2011 seems like so long ago.  I find it mind-blowing to see how far we’ve all come in 12 short months.  August will be here before we know it.

I cannot speak to teacher education programs as a whole.  I can speak to mine.  In this program, we emphasize real science for all students.  I believe that every child can become scientifically literate.  I value student voice and have learned multimodal instructional strategies to meet the needs of students with all learning styles.  I can not only assess student knowledge and understanding, but I can use those assessments to understand what my students already know, what they have learned, and what they are struggling with.  I know the importance of safety – both in terms of physical safety in the science classroom and emotional safety for students.

So what’s my opinion on teacher education programs?  I love mine.  It has not only provided me with the tools I need to teach science and make a difference in the lives of my students, but it has also connected me with some of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.

Rock on, rockstars.

(Disclaimer: Idealistic post ahead.)

It really does amaze me when the most widespread idea we read about for fixing America’s schools is to “fire ineffective teachers.”  This seems like the simplest answer to our problems.  If we fire all the ‘bad’ teachers, then our kids will only have ‘good’ teachers and therefore will learn more.  Problem solved!

This is the opinion of Mayor Jackson in Cleveland, Ohio.  The Cleveland City School District has been under mayoral control for 13 years, but continues to be ranked as “academic watch” on the state’s school report cards.  It makes me wonder what the state of the Rochester City Schools would be if the proposal for putting the schools under mayoral control had gone through two years ago.  It seems backwards to be putting schools under the watch of a politician.  Why not put more control in the hands of professionals – teachers that have studied educational theory and reflect constantly on their practice?  Why not give students more control?  Ater all, it is their education.

On my second day of my current student-teaching placement, I did a “Getting to Know You” survey.  I distinctly remember one student writing down that he likes teachers who don’t treat him like a kid.  Granted, he’s 11 and in 6th grade and still is a child, but he’s on to something here.  Students want responsibility and they want their voices to be heard.  Why not have a school that is run by student voice and student opinions?  (Granted, teacher supervision and adult direction here would be critical, but providing a space where each student can be a leader in his or her own way seems like a ridiculously valuable life learning experience to me.)

Mayoral control does have some pros – the mayor’s job is to know what is right for his or her city.  That being said, school districts should put trust in teachers.  Teachers are entrusted every day with helping students learn content and life skills in a variety of classroom and outside-the-classroom situations.  And lastly, both districts and teachers should trust students to gauge and guide their own learning.  Students can do some pretty incredible things when given the reins.

I am always amazed at the amount of “teacher-bashing” that goes on in our society, or even the number of teachers that have told me “don’t be a teacher.”  This thought is further evidenced by this article: “Survey: Teacher Job Satisfaction Hits Low Point.”

I can see where they’re coming from.  I can understand how teaching can be hard.  I can understand how it can be frustrating.  I can understand how a day can seem so long at school and then teachers must go home and grade papers or lesson plan even more.  I can understand how it can seem overwhelming that the day seems to never end.  I can understand how teachers are not always recognized for the work that they do, even though society trusts us with nurturing the minds of our next generation.

But then I remember where I’m coming from.  I come from a school that taught me how to think.  I’m coming from a master’s program that teaches us how to teach children how to think.  I’m coming from working hard to get it done.  I’m coming from following through on promises I make to students, like “You will get your work back the next day unless I tell you ahead of time.”  I’m coming from rigorous planning, because if you fail to plan, you’re planning to fail.

I’m coming from a love of science, from the understanding that the smallest change can have the biggest impact.  I’m coming from fields and pastures and cows and gardening.  I’m coming from “You’re a scientist every day because you make observations and you draw conclusions based on those observations.”  I’m coming from a connection between science and literature.  I’m coming from never wanting to stop learning how the world works.

I’m coming from a team.  I’m coming from sacrificing everything I have and everything I am to help the team succeed.  I’m coming from struggles.  I’m coming from sharing those struggles and asking my team for help.  I’m coming from a strong stance on being a listener.  I’m coming from always wanting to be there for someone who needs someone to listen.

Everything that I’ve done in my life has lead me to this point.  I’ve always meant to be a teacher, even when I didn’t know it.  I am a teacher at my very core.  I hope I never forget it.

For the duration of this week, I considered what I may post about the events at Chardon High School in Ohio on Monday morning.  What could I possibly say in order to honor those who acted valiantly to make a situation less tragic than it could have been?  What could I say to celebrate those who have since lost their lives?

I have no words.  I could not say anything but “wow” when my mother described the scene that she drove through on her way to work that morning.  I sat in shock when I watched the news that night and I listened in silence to Cleveland radio on my phone all afternoon.  All school shootings are tragic but there is a disconnect until it happens at home.  In your own community.

I have no words, but my 9th grade English teacher has written a poetic reflection on his blog – called McCamley’s Museyroom – that I encourage you to read.  Mr. McCamley clearly states what I have been unable to articulate all week: “I reeled into automatic prayer, hoping that news of a death was wrong, that this horror had not befallen Chardon. At first, CNN had nothing, but Cleveland.com had snippets of news, and for the rest of the day I watched, crestfallen, at the somber coverage of the atrocity, as I had done with Columbine and Virginia Tech. But this was different. As ghastly as Columbine and Blacksburg had been, this was painful in its distant proximity. This was Chardon High School in Geauga County, a community from which we draw students and a school against whom we compete in athletics. Our community.”

Friends and families will gather at the funeral of Danny Parmertor tomorrow and the community will mourn the loss of the three high school students.  Westboro Baptist Church members may picket the funeral tomorrow morning, but I pray that is simply a threat and not a reality.  This weekend, as I plan and do my own homework, I will reflect on how I teach love every day, for there is too much hate in the world and students deserve to be happy.