Chemistry

You don't really know what will happen when you place kids together. A kid who's troublesome in one group may be a valuable addition to another. Last year, I had one kid moved from my AM class to my PM class, and I knew it would be a disaster. He was kind of the last straw. The PM class was on the edge and I was absolutely sure his presence would push it over. Surely enough, it did just that.

There are only so many trouble spots you can keep your eye on at one time. That's why so many people will tell me, "I don't know what to do with my 6th period class," or something like that. I'm sure John King would simply conclude they were ineffective and move to have them fired. After all, he taught one full year of public school before his two years in charters, and he knows everything. Surely he could control anyone. Except an audience of parents and teachers with real questions. And they're special interests anyway. If they weren't, they'd send their kids to Montessori schools just like Reformy John.

On the other hand, these teachers are doing just fine with their other four or five classes. So maybe they aren't so ineffective after all. If they were, wouldn't all their classes be bedlam? How do you know where the tipping point is? It really depends on who the kids are. Last year I was in the trailer and I placed the seats in a U shape to encourage communication. After they moved that last kid in, I moved the seats back into rows to discourage communication. It was a lot of work teaching that class.

There's really only one solution to the problem of class chemistry, and no, it isn't Common Core. Kids will be kids no matter how awful you make the curriculum. In fact, if you make them analyze things to death until you squeeze any and all potential enjoyment out of it, you'll likely make things even worse. Teenagers have all sorts of things running through their bodies and minds and that 17th reading may be just the thing to push them over the edge.

But you know how to avoid the dreaded miserable chemistry, don't you? I'm not Bill Gates so I can't promise you a silver bullet, and none of his actually work very well anyway. So what we're left with is lower class sizes, which seriously reduce the possibility that you will be stuck with that dreaded chemistry issue. The fewer kids you have, the more each one can express him or herself, and the less likely it is said expression will be a problem.

Of course it's much easier to vilify teachers and say they all need to be replaced. As long as you're firing teachers and pretending to improve things, you don't have to bother hiring more of them. Regular readers of this blog know I was just a little bit disappointed in the latest contract. Things like two-tier due process and waiting ten years for the raises everyone else got in 2009 don't make me jump up and down.

But another thing that neither I nor anyone squawked a whole lot about was the failure to negotiate reasonable class sizes. I've been teaching since 1984 and they haven't changed at all. It's funny, because we hear a lot about how we have to evolve, how we have to accept this or that, of course it's true, and some changes aren't even insane. This notwithstanding, parents have been saying for years in the city survey that their number one issue was class size.

If parents want it, and teachers want it, what on earth is keeping New York City government from moving on it?

A Total Load

In a fascinating op-ed in the Daily News, "distinguished professor" William Ouchi lauds Chancellor Klein for reducing "total student workload" for busy city teachers. Apparently, city teachers can have up to 170 students if they have five classes of 34 kids. Ouchi has clearly done his homework in determining that five times 34 is 170. After that, however, Ouchi ventures onto ground that even I, lacking his apparent mathematical saavy, would not skate upon.

Ouchi says total student load is more important than class size, preposterously implying that the amount of students teachers have in classes does not impact the quality of education they receive. He fails to take into account the amount of personal attention kids get from teachers before they hand in their papers, something I, as a parent, am very interested in.

Ouchi suggests measuring a teacher's total number of students is "an almost entirely unknown measure of school performance," as though teachers have never considered it. Clearly Ouchi's responsibilities as "distinguished professor" preclude his taking one minute to speak to a single classroom teacher (the norm for many brilliant researchers, unfortunately). He also asserts classes are orderly, and schools are safer. Were my ESL students to write such things, I'd demand support, but Ouchi does not hold himself to such exacting standards.

Perhaps most outrageous, we're supposed to accept this as gospel based "a cluster of 42 schools"  in New York City.  We have no indication of the size of those schools, nor whether they received the preferential treatment that typifies the "academies" popping up where neighborhood schools used to be. We don't know how many teachers are deans, coordinators, or programmers two or three periods a day. We certainly don't know why Ouchi opts to make his conclusions based on the cluster, when figures for the entire city, flawed and juked though they may be, are available.

While class sizes are exploding in NYC, it's blatantly preposterous to assert teachers have fewer students by any measure. Perhaps it's nice to be a tenured professor and spout such plainly absurd gobbledygook rather than teach five classes. But the overwhelming majority of real city teachers teach those five classes (and that doesn't count the sixth class, the one the UFT claims is not actually a class).

Ouchi can say whatever he wishes, of course. He can talk about "total student load" and ignore class sizes, which have risen, particularly during the last year, despite Tweed's acceptance of hundreds of millions for reduction. He can ignore the failure and delay of new schools to relieve overcrowding,

Certainly Ouchi can pat himself on the back if he really believes no one has ever before conceived of "total student load. " But I work with real teachers every day, and just about every working teacher is pointedly aware of it. Ouchi can assert averages based on his small hand-picked cluster, but it's fairly simple to deduct precisely Ouchi's research is a total load of.

Cerf's Up!

Here's Chris Cerf, Deputy Chancellor of the NYC Department of Education, on teacher effectiveness:

But let's hope we are past the point of evaluating success based on "inputs"- how much we care,

Note that one of the first things Mr. Cerf rejects is how much teachers care about students. Personally, it's impossible for me to condone hiring a teacher who doesn't care about kids, nor would I want such a teacher in charge of my own kid. Teachers who don't like kids, in fact, are the very worst teachers there are.

Now caring alone does not guarantee a good teacher. Still, it's an absolute prerequisite, and does not bear belittling.

whether a particular program or approach appears compelling,

This is an ironic comment from one who represents the DoE, with a history of mandating programs and abiding no deviation from the programs it's prescribed.

how many students in a class feels like the appropriate number,

Note how Mr. Cerf mildly ridicules and completely repudiates lower class size. Money, the most important factor in this administration, dicates leaving class sizes as high as they are now, the highest in the state. This is a strong indication that this administration plans to continue making superficial and meaningless changes, to give the appearance of progress rather than actually make any.

how many degrees or certificates our educators possess, etc.

It's always fascinating to see people who clearly don't value education running education systems. I realize there's a lot of crap taught in higher education (as in other fields), but that ought to be corrected rather than flushing college down the toilet. Perhaps Mr. Cerf prefers less costly McTeachers , who can be used a few years, and then discarded.

Personally, my MA in Applied Linguistics was very valuable. I certainly know more about language acquisition than US Education Secretary Margaret Spellings, or indeed many of those who design the tests that quite inadequately test the English ability of my students (Kids who barely speak routinely pass New York City's LAB test).

Mr. Cerf then explains that the single most important factor in student achievement is the teacher. Having taught and studied for many years, I disagree. The single most important factor is the student's background. The teacher is simply the second best bet for that kid (a strong argument for quality teachers), and it's very tough to turn around a 17-year-old with a lifetime of bad habits. Experience is our best asset for dealing with these kids. You learn to approach kids, you make mistakes, and you get better. You get far more effective.

And it's much easier to control such a kid and stop the spread of such behavior in a class of 25 or less than one of 34 or more.

And you can indeed make progress, but that may entail getting the kid to sit down, to stop interrupting constantly, to be friendly, or at least tolerant of you and the other students. It's simply idiotic to discount such progress, and it's woefully ignorant to imagine one could significantly raise test scores without achieving all of the above. Regrettably, that does not occur with a snap of the fingers. And I haven't even gotten to home contact, let alone persuading the kid to study.

It's not all about "designing data systems," Mr. Cerf. When you discount time, education and discipline in learning to teach (or learning anything whatsoever), that represents something other than wisdom.

The Look

A few years back, my ESL class, capped at 25 by the state (which funded it) went above the city limit of 34. The principal called me into his office and suggested an idea.

He had a special ed. teacher with a hole in her schedule. She could "team teach" with me (meaning I would continue to teach the class, and she would sit there, full of team spirit). Her AP was there, and said, "She speaks Chinese."

"I don't want someone who speaks Chinese," I answered. "I want someone who speaks English."

Naturally, they didn't understand that at all. At the time, I only had 17 books for 35 kids (a Tweed observer, seeing them share the books, commended me on the "cooperative learning" in my classroom). I said I'd agree if the principal would buy me a class set (and I got one too, in slightly less than two years, with the threat of a grievance).

Anyway, the teacher turned out to know both Chinese and English. She was very smart, and very helpful. She graded tests for me and found the stupid mistakes I'd made on the key before I handed the tests back to the kids. She (unlike the administrators) understood I wanted only English spoken in my classroom, and set a good example for the kids. Also, she didn't hesitate to call the parents of Chinese speakers for me.

But the thing that really amazed me about this young teacher with precious little experience was her approach to questionable behavior. If a kid did something unacceptable, she'd just stand up and look the kid in the eye. Invariably, the kid would sit down, shut up, or do precisely whatever it was her look telegraphed.

I'm a pretty good disciplinarian, but my methods are relatively complicated and time-consuming. She just had to give them the look and everything was fine. If I could package that look I'm pretty sure I could put most ed. schools out of business.

Do you know anyone who has the look? What's the secret?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Progress Marches On

For years I've been hearing people say, "Kids today don't know how to read because all they do is watch TV." I doubted that because I've been watching it ever since I could remember, and it never stopped me from reading.

Later, with the ubiquitous calculator rearing its ugly head, people started saying,"Kids today can't add or subtract because all they do is use calculators."

I always thought such people were being ridiculous. Kids have always been pains in the neck, and they hardly ever do what you want them to without a good fight. Read Tom Jones. They weren't any better then. It's their job to be pains in the neck, when you get right down to it.

However, despite my best arguments to the contrary, I'm coming around to the point of view of the Luddites. Wait a minute, I can explain.

My MO for getting new classes into shape is frequent phone calls. I have a particularly rough afternoon class, and I've been putting a lot of time into it. Anyone who's serious about calling homes knows kids whose homes you want to call are fond of providing incorrect numbers.

Kids will stand there, in front of God and everybody, and loudly declare they just moved yesterday, they only have a cell phone, and give you a multitude of even less plausible reasons they don't know their own phone numbers. Much of the time it's total crap.

But yesterday, I met a kid in the hall who'd cut my class three times in the last four days. I told him the phone number he'd given me was no good. He insisted it was, and showed me where it was written in his notebook (He really didn't remember it!). I'd called it twice, though, and told him it was disconnected.

With a knowing look, he pulled out his cell phone to demonstrate that, like all teachers, I was a total idiot. However, his cell phone revealed that he'd copied the number incorrectly.

Incidentally, if you're a teacher looking for more genuine numbers, the first place to check is the medical office, where something better usually turns up, even if it's an emergency number for an aunt or uncle. This year, I'm becoming very well-acquainted with the medical office personnel, and I'm fortunate they're so friendly and helpful.

Here's my point, though: Kids today don't even know their own phone numbers because all they do is use cell phones.

Startup Tips

I Wish Someone Had Told Me

Practical suggestions were few and far between when I started out. I was an English teacher, with an AP who spent hours describing the difference between an “aim” and an “instructional objective.” To this day, I haven’t the slightest notion what she was talking about. She also spent a good deal of time describing the trials and tribulations of her cooking projects, and other utterly useless information.

Neither she nor any teacher of education ever advised me on classroom control. The standing platitude was “A good lesson plan is the best way to control a class,” but I no longer believe that. I think a good lesson plan is the best thing to have after you control the class.

I also think a good lesson plan need not be written at all, as long as you know what you’re doing. If you don’t, neither the lesson plan nor the aim will be much help.

The best trick, and it’s not much of a trick at all, is frequent home contact. It’s true that not all parents will be helpful, but I’ve found most of them to be. When kids know reports of their classroom behavior will reach their homes, they tend to save the acting out for your lazier colleagues—the ones who find it too inconvenient to call. You are not being "mean" or petty--you're doing your job, and probably helping the kid. If you want to really make a point, make a dozen calls after the first day of class. Or do it the day before a week-long vacation.

Now you could certainly send that ill-mannered kid to the dean, to your AP, to the guidance counselor, or any number of places. But when you do that, you’re sending a clear message that you cannot deal with that kid—he or she is just too much for you. You’ve already lost.

And what is that dean going to do anyway? Lecture the child? Call the home? Why not do it yourself?

You need to be positive when you call. Politely introduce yourself and say this:

“I’m very concerned about _______________. ___________ is a very bright kid. That’s why I’m shocked at these grades: 50, 14, 0, 12, and 43 (or whatever). I’d really like __________ to pass the class, and I know you would too.”

I’ve yet to encounter the parent who says no, my kids are stupid, and I don’t want them to pass.

“Also, I’ve noticed that ___________ is a leader. For example, every time ___________ (describe objectionable behavior here) or says (quote exact words here—always immediately write objectionable statements) many other students want to do/say that too.”

"I'm also concerned because ________ was absent on (insert dates here) and late (insert dates and lengths here).

I certainly hope you will give _________ some good advice so ___________ can pass the class.”

If the kid’s parents speak a foreign language you don’t know, find someone else who also speaks it, and write down what you want that person to tell the parent.

If you’re lucky enough to have a phone in your room, next time you have a test, get on the phone in front of your class and call the homes of the kids who aren’t there. Express concern and ask where they are. If the kid is cutting, it will be a while before that happens again. If the kid is sick, thank the parent and wish for a speedy recovery.

The kids in your class will think twice about giving you a hard time.

Kids test you all the time. It’s hard not to lose your temper, but it’s a terrible loss for you if you do. When kids know you will call their homes, they will be far less likely to disrupt your class. The minutes you spend making calls are a very minor inconvenience compared to having a disruptive class.

If you’re fortunate enough to have a reasonable and supportive AP, God bless you. If not, like many teachers, you’ll just have to learn to take care of yourself. If you really like kids, if you really know your subject, and if you really want to teach, you’ll get the hang of it.

But make those phone calls. The longer you do it, the more kids will know it, and the fewer calls you’ll have to make.

Your AP, whether good, bad, or indifferent, will certainly appreciate having fewer discipline problems from you. More importantly, you might spend less time dealing with discipline problems, and more helping all those kids in your room.

Originally posted June 5, 2005

See also:

Ms. Cornelius with everything they forgot (or more likely, never knew about) at ed. school, and great advice from a new teacher at Syntactic Gymnastics