Word.

The article by Tomlinson offers useful tools for handling many of the problems of differentiation that I have struggled with this year. While many of the examples in the text are descriptions of elementary school classroom situations, the methods described are applicable, with appropriate modifications, to middle and secondary instruction. Differentiation is increasingly important in our diverse classrooms; it is necessary to adequately assess progress and effort?
I have had long discussions with my mentor teacher about the differentiation process. The clearest product of our discussions is recognition that differentiation is necessary; it
Is important, however, to ensure that regardless of the means of assessment, students are performing work that demonstrates that standards are being met.
One of the biggest challenges in the general education classroom is maintaining the interest of students who have the capacity to work above the classroom instruction level. Two strategies proffered by Tomlinson that I see as useful solutions are “compacting” and the idea of “superscripting” grades. “Compacting” allows students with sufficient mastery of a skill to move on in a subject and be excused from the class work or homework assigned to achieve mastery of a skill. These students are allowed to move on to the application of the skill and further more intensive study of a subject. This affords the opportunity for student-initiated fields of study, which heightens engagement in the subject and lesson boredom… I currently have a number of students who would probably benefit from the concept of “compacting.” Coasting “A” students would most assuredly benefit from the opportunity to pursue additional concepts using the skills that need to be mastered.
Superscripting the grades of students allows both the recognition of effort by struggling students and an indicator of “coasting” by students with more advanced skills. Tomlinson describes a system where “1” indicates working above grade level, “2” is at grade level, and “3” is below grade level. I think this can be modified to reflect degree of effort, rather than grade level, thus making it a more useful system for illustrating whether students are actively engaged in pushing themselves in class. The “A” student who puts no effort into class and does not actually learn something new should not be judged the same way that a student who struggles and makes great progress.
One concern that I have with differentiated grading is that it may undermine the GPA structure. Many facets of secondary and post-secondary education pin criteria and rewards to these numbers. How can grade differentiation be used without effectively undermining these hierarchical structures?

—Ludlow

Tomlinson, C. A. (2001). How to differentiate instruction in mixed-ability classrooms. Alexandria, VA: ASCD.

I am very excited about using new technologies to foster literacy. I found Swenson et al (2006) to be an extremely interesting read, and caught myself nodding along at times as I read. This article addresses some of the complications I have found in working with “digital natives” (Prensky, 2001); these students are so wholly immersed in their digital lives that the antiquated interface of books with paper seems uninteresting and devoid of meaning. Swenson et al point out that students spend the time equivalent of a full time job each week interacting with various forms of media. How can a book, a seemingly static artifice devoid of hyperlinks, actually tell us anything?
All pessimism aside, I have seen fascinating projects utilizing a blend of new and old technologies. I have seen the digital equivalent of the ‘commonplace books’ that Swenson references in her article. I have also seen the adaptation of business technologies to didactic practice, and been enthralled by the power of computers to convey information elegantly.
Some may be surprised to hear me praise the rise of digital texts; at one time I was practically a Luddite, clinging to my battered Smith typewriter or lugging around an old Skywriter to do my correspondence. I actually used carbon paper to make copies of documents I was typing. Now, I know this may date me a bit; I am not actually that old, but I have seen the remarkable spread of communication technology during my adult life, and I find it fascinating. The amount of information available is difficult to fathom. Examining the Leu et al document and its veritable cornucopia of hyperlinks was staggering. The ease with which one goes from information source to information source, from database to library stack to periodical reference boggles my mind. This may be the root difference between gen X and the digital natives of today; they expect nothing less than this synergy of interface and information, and when they have it, they can create amazing things. It is up to the rest of us to try and keep up.

—Ludlow

Leu, D. J., Leu, D. D., & Coiro C. (nd). Teaching with the Internet K—12: New Literacies for New Times. Accessed April 5, 2008 from http://www.sp.uconn.edu/~djleu/fourth.html.
Prensky, M. (2001). Digital natives, digital immigrants. On the Horizon, 9(55), 1-6.
Swenson, J., Young, C. A., McGrail, E., Rozema, R., & Whitin, P. (2006). Extending the conversation: new technologies, new literacies, and English Education. English Education, 38(4), 351-369.

Ahhh, deconstruction. I’ve been banging my head against this wall for several months. I didn’t really get this until I sat down with RoyalOil and talked it all out. For me, deconstruction only really makes sense in the context of it being a reaction against the rigidity of structuralist theory. While structuralists hold that language functions to convey definitive meaning, deconstruction theorists declare such absolutism to be totalitarian. There can be no way of knowing what any given text means, as the influences on a text are broad-ranging and ultimately unknowable. If you can continue to question what a text means, or what subtle influences may have unconsciously shaped the word choice of the author, you can continue to question what the real meaning of a text can be. When you reach that point of paradox where you cannot determine actual meaning and the text becomes “undecidable,” you have achieved aporia. This seems to be the actual goal of deconstruction literary criticism; finding the aspect of text that makes it unknowable is a grand irritant to other literary critics, and therefore desirable. The deconstruction theorist is a gadfly…

This theory is ultimately very useful to the teacher. Appleman cites Moore (1998) who quotes McLaughlin who defines deconstruction theory as “equipment for post-modern living” (p. 104). Ultimately, deconstruction is a rebellion against accepting the opinions of others; this makes the theory highly attractive. Students may revel in the idea that they can reject meaning. As they search for ways to reject what you offer them, they may actually learn something new…

—Ludlow

Reference

Appleman, D. (2000). Critical Encounters in High School English: Teaching Literary Theory to Adolescents. New York: Teachers College Press.

I love Marxist critical theory. There, I said it. I love it. I love the way Marxist theory allows me to review the text in the context of class and status. I love being able to look at texts from a position that questions the intentions of the author, attempts to recognize the influences of society, and embraces the social constructions inherent in our understanding of text. Appleman points out how Marxist critical theory allows the teacher to widen the viewpoint of the student. In discussing a typical crowd of AP English students, she says “They’re basically good people, motivated learners, and engaged students, but they hardly ever think beyond the boundaries of their own comfortable world” (Appleman, 2000, p. 63). I am especially fond of the way Marxist critical theory tracks back to the idea of “who benefits?” when analyzing texts. This sort of critical thinking is useful for teaching students to be critical about information they are presented; Marxist literary theory can be used to recognize the embedded power, class, ideology, and resistance messages present in classroom texts (Appleman, 2000, p. 62). No matter what we read, it has been touched in some way by these issues. Writers do not exist in a vacuum; they assimilate information and it comes out in what they write. Sometimes it is overt, such as Sinclair’s socialist message in The Jungle, but frequently the influences on a writer are quite subtle and require careful reading to parse out hidden meanings…
I am pleased with my Marxist lens. It allows me to analyze the class issues that are so prevalent in our literary canon. How can we look at books like The Grapes of Wrath or The Great Gatsby without considering class and social status? I use Marxist critical theory in my class, if for no other reason than to provide a solid jumping off point for discussion. The students don’t have to agree with my interpretations; often they don’t even get to hear them. The questions prompt discussion, which prompt more questions, in an ever-deepening spiral into the meaning of the text. Which is, truly, a good thing.  So I say “Yay, Marxist critical theory!”

—Ludlow

The ubiquitous quality of technology in our lives is starkly contrasted by the availability of technology in the classroom.  While we have podcasts and blogs, streaming media and complicated presentations as an active part of our private lives, the use of technology in the classroom on a practical basis seems to be limited at best.

I see fantastic resources available to us in the university; technology and instruction was a fantastic class that really opened my eyes to the possibilities inherent in the available tech provided by simple office suite programs.  When I am in the classroom, however, I have to scramble for an LCD projector, dual task the standard housekeeping roles of the laptop with the demands of running a presentation, and utterly discount the possibility of streaming video; the pipes just aren’t fat enough.

Give the schools five years to catch up; do you think they will?  I hope they do, but while we wait, I will continue the scramble to expose our visual learners to all that I can in the way of technology.  Even the old standby of the overhead projector has immense power with these students.  Put something up on screen in front of them, and they shift into an absorption mode of being; they sop up the information, and seem to be better able to retain what they learn when they SEE it.  Have any of you observed this?

Our readings this week have focused on classroom management and interaction with our students.  From Curan, to Ramsey, to Alsup & Bush, and on to Flannery’s article on the NEA website, we read about how to talk to students, their parents, and how to manage our classrooms effectively.  Some of these points were wonderful; I enjoyed the chapters from Ramsey, and saw interactions I have had with my own students in the advice offered.  The skills we are building as students of education will help us to effectively educate students.  I particularly liked the observation that “the golden rule still works” (Ramsey).
I have struggled with my students this semester, particularly with the older students.  While I completely understand their need to rebel against authority (been there, done that), I have tried to defuse situations as best as I can by trying to be as straight-forward with the students as possible.  I haven’t dissembled from the basic fact that language gives them power, and that effectively using language allows them to have their voices be heard; however, I have tried not to let those students with the facility to use language well run the classroom.  I want my students to be critical thinkers, question facts and assumptions, and ask questions.  There are times when the questions asked seem to be raised as a method for deferring further work, rather than enhancing understanding of the matter at hand; I have begun attempting to redirect these kinds of questions into “how” and “why” arenas that relate back to the original subject, or guide the students on to the next point in the inference chain.  This seems to help matters immensely.
It was refreshing to read about giving instructions, particularly the pointers on how to give clear instructions.  This is something that I have been working on; I cannot assume that verbal repetition and written directions will make it through to my students.  I have found that I need to refresh their memories every couple of days, writing deadlines on the board, reiterating what they need to do and how to do it.  Some of the accepted formats for dissemination of information at my school have proven themselves to be flawed; if 90% of the students who receive a resource do not use it correctly or are unable to understand the information delivered, then the resource is at fault, and not the students.  I have recast information, broken my assignments into smaller pieces, and made certain that the “deliverables” desired are clearly understood by the students in my classes.  This makes me feel better about my teaching skills, and helps the students feel that the work they have to do is manageable…  Giving students the project a bit at a time, rather than having it due all at once, also seems to help with the management of workload and allows me to better monitor progress toward the class goals.  How do you manage large projects in your classrooms?

This week we needed to read approximately a hundred pages of Rex Gibson’s Teaching Shakespeare, which I have found to be a well-written and insightful examination of both Shakespeare and creative education methods.  As I read the chapters on the literary devices and tricks of language that Shakespeare used, I am struck by the importance of the thorough grounding Shakespeare received from his classical education.  The history, the solid basis in language and the grammars of the time, and the facility with language combined to allow Shakespeare to write plays in new and exciting ways, retelling stories that were well known to jaded audiences and enrapturing them regardless of their familiarity with the stories.
It is obvious to me that this is why we still read Shakespeare today, and why it is imperative that we introduce students to Shakespeare’s writings.  He was a master of all the tricks they see today on the silver screen and on the glass teat; it behooves us to point out a truly cunning linguist when we can…

Making students accountable for test scores works well on a bumper sticker and it allows many politicians to look good by saying that they will not tolerate failure. But it represents a hollow promise. Far from improving education, high- stakes testing marks a major retreat from fairness, from accuracy, from quality, and from equity.

- Sen. Paul Wellstone (1944-2002)

Pondering thoughtful curriculum and the conversation of learning…

When I employ the Socratic method in the classroom, I know that I have an agenda. I have a plan, expectations, and anticipated paths the inquiry into a subject will take; what do we do, as educators, when the answer to our question is unexpected and turns the inquiry in a new direction? If we fail to acknowledge the unexpected thought, we shut off a potential avenue for discussion. Don’t we want the students to speak up if they have questions? This kind of thoughtfulness is exactly the kind of behavior we profess to encourage, yet too often it is sacrificed in the interest of “covering the material” or making sure that we are “prepared for the test.”

Applebee points out that if we embrace a constructivist viewpoint in which the student’s experience shapes the knowledge, rather than consider knowledge as something that can be memorized by rote, the goal of successful instruction is the engagement of the student in an exchange of ideas, a conversation leading naturally from discussion and interconnected course materials (1997). The goal of the successful instructor is to encourage students to make the connections between materials themselves, and to provide the environment in which this process can successfully happen.

I tend to teach literature from a historical perspective, trying to frame individual works based on the events in society and the lives of the writers. This has the benefit of a built-in context and implied connectivity between the various pieces of literature. I have found, however, that students need to have the conversation guided to relevant current explanations or examples that connect their life experiences to those of past authors. This helps with Applebee’s concept of relatedness in curriculum, but what do we do about quantity and quality?

I found the idea of quality and its relationship to curriculum very interesting. So much of what we teach is part of the traditional view of the literary canon. In embracing diversity and displaying sensitivity and awareness for the differences in society, we have added material to the lists that we need to consider, without regard for time constraints or fallout. Depending on the cultural mores of our communities, there will be varied reactions to the addition of various works to the curriculum. I feel that if the addition furthers the inquiry and adds to the conversation, it is beneficial. When we give students the opportunity for free exchange of ideas, they sometimes squander the chance; however, there are those occasions that seem to light a fire under them, and drive them to further exploration and inquiry. Quality material enhances these interactions, and provides students with grist for the inquisition mill. Context seems to be a driving factor for my students. If I can show them a vignette, paint them a picture, or guide them to a kernel of information that enhances their understanding of a work, then I have succeeded. If the qualities of a text can provide fodder for discussion, moving their inquiry forward, then we have made real progress, and helped to shape their envisionment of the literary canon. This canon has a form, true, but how they react to that canon can make or break the student’s academic career. Without quality, an openness to inquiry and interpretation, and patience, thoughtful curriculum cannot grow.

Applebee, A.N. (1997). Toward thoughtful curriculum: Fostering discipline-based conversation in the English language arts classroom (Report No. 1.10). Albany, NY: National Research Center on Literature Teaching and Learning.

In response to high-stakes testing…

The narrative in Alsup and Bush on high-stake testing was very interesting, and raised questions that I have been concerned about during my practicum.  High-stake testing has been forced on schools in an effort by politicians to mandate accountability; ultimately, the judgement will be passed on whether the teacher has “done their job,” based on whether their students succeed in a testing environment.

How are we supposed to view this situation?  I assign work to my students, and frequently they do not complete their assignments.  If I cannot trust them to read their books, how can I trust them to prepare for tests?  There is a disconnect for students between their perception of what their work load should be and what is necessary for them to be prepared to take the EOCTs and the state-mandated graduation tests.

The administration at my school has determined that we need to “get the students ready for the test” by having them do practice tests online and complete workbooks.  These processes are tedious for the students who do well in the class, and daunting for those who struggle.  Couple the onerous task of test preparation with students who insist that they “can pass the test.  Everyone passes the test” and you have a recipe for disaster.  Even when confronted with failing grades on the practice test, students insist that “that’s not what the test is really like.  It won’t be like that.”  Is this an example of the “faith-based reality” I have heard so much about?  How can I reach students who are so unwilling to put forth the effort needed to pass the class, let alone prepare for tests that, whether they like it or not, will alter the course of their lives?  The narrative in Alsup and Bush advocates preparation performed “carefully and systematically” (Alsup and Bush, 2003, p. 159).  Even the most careful, systematic preparation can be derailed if the student refuses to perform the work.  How do we motivate the student who thinks they are too smart for “busy work?”  What do you do if a student tells you that they “beat your practice test” because they took a 45-question test in less than two minutes?  Grades that reflect their effort seem to be ineffective.  I hesitate to stoop to scare tactics, but I am reaching that point.  What would YOU do?