Entry # 23:
We are not teaching our subject matter,
we are teaching our kids
I watched Thursday as Keith played around, talking to friends, cracking
jokes, and completing less than five problems while most of his classmates
completed fifteen. I felt a little frustrated with him because he usually
did not act up with me, yet now he was.
Of course, he usually does language arts and not math in my room. Maybe
that had something to do with it.
Our sixth grade has had terrible behavior in the hallways, in some classrooms,
and in the lunchroom. Our principal and the team decided on a one-week "lockdown"
to combat the problem. Essentially, our students had all of their classes
in their homerooms, while teachers rotated from room to room to minimize
the students' movement. However, because of an incident in the science room
where the teacher's room was left in a complete mess, we were self-contained
with our homerooms Thursday and Friday.
Let me say that I did not entirely agree with the decision to "lockdown"
the children. It seems to me it was more of a measure to treat the symptoms
of a problem rather than the problem itself. Basically, two members of the
team supervise students in the hallways while two do not. Three members
provide structure and clear expectations in the classroom, while one does
not. In the lunchroom, rules are changed daily, and active supervision is
lacking.
If we were to be completely honest, we would have to agree that children
are children, and they will act like children when they are given inadequate
guidance. But I guess it is easier to punish children than to put pressure
on adults. Children are easier targets.
Teaching every subject turned out to be fabulous
In any case, we were on lockdown, and I was put into the position of teaching
all subjects to my students. And do you know what? It turned out to be a
fabulous experience for my students and me.
On Wednesday I allowed my students to finish a math test on adding and subtracting
fractions they had not completed earlier in the day. As I collected the
papers and checked them over, I was aghast at the number of students who
had quite obviously not mastered the material. Instead of continuing with
the language arts lesson I had prepared, we worked the problems together
on the board. One of my kids said, "You explain this so good, Mrs.
Berg. I wish you were our math teacher."
I have actually considered getting my certification in math. I was one of
those math students who would sit at the kitchen table with my father, screaming
and crying about my math homework. My mother, a math whiz, refused to work
with me because I was just horrid. It was too hard, I would never get it,
and on and on until, suddenly, it all came clear to me. Then I would happily
work problem after problem, having finally mastered the concept.
I think, because I had to work so hard to "get" math, I do a pretty
good job of understanding how to explain it to others. Struggling with something
really forces us to look at it from all angles, and we come through the
experience with a much better understanding than those who have an easy
time with the concept.
I told the kids they would have a quiz the next morning about two of the
problems from their test. Not only would they have to solve the problems,
showing all of their work, but also they would have to write an explanation
of how to solve the problem. Boy, did that explain a lot!
After checking their papers during my prep period, it was easy to see who
got it and who did not. I also got a better understanding of what, specifically,
students did not understand.
"I don't get this at all"
On Friday I assigned more problems from the book for students to do and
sat down to do the problems with them. I purposefully sat down next to Keith,
and began working. As I looked over at him five minutes into the exercise.
He had copied down two of the problems and attempted to solve them, but
he added the two denominators. I asked, "How are you doing, Keith?"
He replied, "Well, for real, Mrs. Berg, I don't get this at all."
Keith is the type of student who masks his difficulties. He confessed he
had not asked for help in math class. He is one of the "cool"
boys who has a reputation as a clown, yet he quietly wants to learn. He
just has not learned how to ask.
I worked several problems with Keith, gradually releasing responsibility.
By the time we checked the problems by putting them on the board, he was
raising his hand to volunteer to put his problems on the board or to correct
the problems of his peers. At the end of that session he said, "Man,
that stuff is easy. I just didn't see it." Along with Keith, I was
able to work one on one with students who were struggling. The students
who really understood it began working with those who did not with no direction
from me. I saw a real community of learners during that period.
Many of Keith's classmates who groaned when I first started reviewing their
math were now begging, "Please, Mrs. Berg, can't we put the even numbers
on the board too?" Attitudes changed, and the understanding of my students
drastically increased.
I paired my students up and, once again, had them solve two problems and
write an explanation about how to solve them. There were no complaints,
just comments of, "Oh, this is so easy!" or, "Can we put
these in the hallway?" At the end of it all, we pasted their problems
and explanations on construction paper and created a display, "Communicating
Through Math," in the hallway.
Eagerly trying to communicate their learning
For our last period on Friday, I decided to extend the concept even further.
Since we had immersed ourselves in the concept for the whole day, I thought
it wouldn't hurt to kick it up a notch. I gave my students a project to
complete, either in small groups (2-3) or individually. They could write
a poem with illustrations, write and perform a rap, write a story, or create
an abstract picture with a paragraph to explain. About what?
How to add and subtract fractions.
I told my students that any creative work essentially took the facts of
a topic and added the creator's perspective and emotions about the topic
to create the work of art. When I asked them if they had any questions,
not one hand wnt up. In fact, as we worked that period, not one student
had any questions.
In fact, not one disagreement or off task behavior was present for the full
90-minute block!
Students were eagerly engaged in trying to communicate their understanding
of adding and subtracting fractions. I had expected more surface creations,
but boy, was I wrong! I have students who created raps about how to borrow
from whole numbers, why we have common denominators, and making comparisons
between common denominators and boyfriend-girlfriend relationships! They
are not finished, but I am going to be sure to give them the time to finish
during our language arts time.
Why spend all this time on math?
Now, I am sure someone is wondering, Mrs. Berg, if you are the language
arts teacher, how can you justify spending all that time on math? What about
their test scores in reading? Believe me, I thought through this because
I wanted to be able to explain that very point in case my principal came
in and questioned me.
First, my students were struggling with their math. They needed someone
to help them understand because the math teacher is going to retest them
then move on. Those who do not get it now will just not get it, and it will
come back to haunt them later. Since they are my advisory, I have the responsibility
to be an advocate for them. In this case, it was math. Tomorrow it might
be personal hygiene.
Second, math is a language all its own. Each equation, each symbol has a
meaning, and my students did not comprehend the meaning of those equations
and symbols. I believe that learning how to attack math problems carries
over to attacking reading. If I can teach my students some solid thinking
skills, I am doing my job.
Third, students were explaining their thinking to me in writing, and writing
is a part of my curriculum.
Blending and smearing the content edges
I have a greater appreciation for integrated teaching after this experience.
I wonder if there should be separate classes for each subject, yet I do
not know exactly how a school or a class would look if we abolished the
traditional setting of school. I suspect I would no longer get the puzzled
looks and comments like, "Mrs. Berg, why are we doing science (math,
social studies, etc.) in here, this is reading!"
What I do know is we need to do a better job of blending and smearing the
edges of each content area so students can see the connections among each
area. After all, as adults we do not have jobs like, "math" or
"health." We use skills and ideas from all areas of life. A good
start would be to focus on essential questions that touched all content
areas as a team, but that requires a focused, committed team of teachers.
We're not there yet.
I cannot imagine being a math teacher and not having students write or communicate
in some way about their understanding of a concept. How many students sit
there in a silent stupor, waiting for the next concept to come along? How
can we have solving problems as the only measure of understanding when some
students who can solve the problems cannot tell you why or how it is done?
How can we avoid working one-on-one or in small groups where we can observe
a student's thinking?
But again, all of those questions apply to all subject areas. I guess it
all comes down to what a member of MiddleWeb's listserve
said in a recent discussion. We are not teaching our subject matter, we
are teaching our kids. If we keep that in mind, then we will do what is
necessary for them to "get it," even if it isn't on our test.
Read next week's entry >>>
<<< Read last week's entry
Read some background about Ellen and
her school
Comment on this week's entry
Back to Ellen's 2000-2001
Diary Index