Chapter Four centered on Tawainese-American teacher Freda Lin. I thought it interesting that Freda mentions the Asian culture as the "forgotten minority." Perception is they pose little problem because of the general attitude of hard work and communal responsibility. I reflected that in my almost ten years of teaching I have only had a handful of Asian-American students. The chapter also features some interactions with a dictator-like principal. The whole chapter reminded me of my first two years of teaching. I was in a affluent suburb of Washington DC teaching 10th grade English Lit. My principal ran the school like Mussolini (I hope I spelled that right) and the teachers were forced, due to overcrowding, to "float." I had to vacate my room during my "off" periods and take stacks of paper to a closet better known as the English teacher's lounge. The whole school atmosphere was one of distrust and entitlement - from staff and students. It was such a horrible experience.
Some obervations from the chapter:
How do you feel state standards and the high-stakes testing has helped or hindered your teaching?
Freda mentions that she is conflicted between studying for depth versus breadth. She believes that her students take the most away from projects and that with notes they're "just memorizing," but where do projects fit in when you're rushed to cover a certain amount of curriculum by the end of the year and the BIG standardized test? In my own classroom my philosophy was if I teach your students well, they will pass the test and leave with knowledge. That meant I taught beyond the test. My strategy was to teach them the basic skills but to also infuse relevant material that made them think. A unit on decisions and consequences included all sorts of texts. We read newspaper articles about local people who had made poor decisions. We read Supreme Court cases and short stories. We talked about how the connotation of the word consequence was negative but not all consequences were necessarily negative. However, I am fully aware I have a luxury in teaching ELA. My colleague in the Social Studies Dept. was always frantic to "get to the Civil War" by test time. How do all of you balance depth and breadth in your classroom?
In light of our readings for class this week, how does the evaluation process encourage growth in your school or workplace?
Freda mentions the "whole evaluation process...[as] a big charade" (100). I agree. I have yet to have a principal who genuinely knows what is going on in my classroom or one who cares - provided no parent is beating down their door. The overwhelming impression is as long as the kids are alive when they leave my classroom and I didn't sleep with any of them, the magic that goes on behind the closed door can remain that - magic. I often feel a little frustrated that my principal even feels confident enough in my ability to complete my evaluation. At our school she doesn't even review it with us. She leaves it in our mailboxes to sign and return. There's a note about seeing her if there are any questions, but the one time I actually went to ask a question, it was politely implied that she didn't have the time to deal with insignificant questions. How am I suppsed to make a concerted effort to improve if I'm not given specific feedback about where to improve? We tried a system (it only lasted for half a semseter) where teachers observed other teachers and gave feedback, but it was a nightmare. We weren't given specifics of what to look for and so observations were wildly varied depending on the teacher and their own personal style. Great plan, poorly implemented.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Cynthia Nambo
Chapter three was very interesting for me. For our previous class (EDUG 513), I worked on single-sex schooling for my final project. The rationale for segregating the sexes had much to do with the Sadkers' work Shortchanging Girls, Shortchanging America. The researchers noted that girls were less likely to be successful in the historically male-dominated fields of mathematics and science. So they advocated the removal of girls to limit the perceived competition with their male classmates. (As a side note, now the pendulum has swung the other way and there is outcry that boys are disserviced in a predominately female environment of public schools).
While the explicit references to single-sex schooling ends on page 53, it subtly underscores the entire chapter. It begs the question, like the assumption in chapter two that minority teachers can better relate to minority children, can female teachers teach female students better? (I am anxious to hear Peter's response - Sorry Peter, but you are unfortunately outnumbered in this field!)
Cynthia seems a very strong and passionate teacher. I would love to observe her class. I have really become enthusiastic about project-based learning and I have been keeping notes on different ways to implement it in the classroom.
Michie mentions a term on page 68, coined by Judith Kleinfeld, "warm demanders." He states that "many of the effective Chicago teachers I know - particularly teachers of color" have this characteristic of possessing high expectations while demonstrating genuine caring. Like Cynthia Nambo, I struggled with the hugs and touching that my students exchanged. I actually had one African American girl tell me I was too uptight because I didn't "love on" my students. Once I realized their concept of personal space was much different than mine and their displays of affection were much more pronounced, I was able to alter my ways of giving feedback.
I wanted to hear how the "trial" play at the end of the chapter worked out. Cynthia sounds like she would be fun to work with and someone I'd like to collaborate with. I recognized a lot of my own style in her description of her philosophy. My husband is Mexican American and (like Freda Lin the Chapter 4 is called a "twinkie") has often been referred to as a coconut (you know, brown on the outside, white on the inside). I speak Spanish and so his mother laughs that the guera (Tex-Mex equivalent of a gringa) knows more of their language than her son. My students and their parents were frequently surprised early on in the school years (at the beginning of my teaching career, before I had a reputation) that I was a petite white girl. With a name like Anna Davila, I had to be Hispanic. And many of my Latinas liked to ask me questions about my in-laws and what it was like to be a white girl marrying into a Hispanic family. (My Hispanic boys were always bummed they couldn't get away with saying naughty things in Spanish in my classroom). I got a lot of street cred for having a black best friend and a Hispanic husband and when you're working with classrooms whose faces are predominately black and brown, it helped.
Anyone else find something interesting in Chapter 3?
~Anna
While the explicit references to single-sex schooling ends on page 53, it subtly underscores the entire chapter. It begs the question, like the assumption in chapter two that minority teachers can better relate to minority children, can female teachers teach female students better? (I am anxious to hear Peter's response - Sorry Peter, but you are unfortunately outnumbered in this field!)
Cynthia seems a very strong and passionate teacher. I would love to observe her class. I have really become enthusiastic about project-based learning and I have been keeping notes on different ways to implement it in the classroom.
Michie mentions a term on page 68, coined by Judith Kleinfeld, "warm demanders." He states that "many of the effective Chicago teachers I know - particularly teachers of color" have this characteristic of possessing high expectations while demonstrating genuine caring. Like Cynthia Nambo, I struggled with the hugs and touching that my students exchanged. I actually had one African American girl tell me I was too uptight because I didn't "love on" my students. Once I realized their concept of personal space was much different than mine and their displays of affection were much more pronounced, I was able to alter my ways of giving feedback.
I wanted to hear how the "trial" play at the end of the chapter worked out. Cynthia sounds like she would be fun to work with and someone I'd like to collaborate with. I recognized a lot of my own style in her description of her philosophy. My husband is Mexican American and (like Freda Lin the Chapter 4 is called a "twinkie") has often been referred to as a coconut (you know, brown on the outside, white on the inside). I speak Spanish and so his mother laughs that the guera (Tex-Mex equivalent of a gringa) knows more of their language than her son. My students and their parents were frequently surprised early on in the school years (at the beginning of my teaching career, before I had a reputation) that I was a petite white girl. With a name like Anna Davila, I had to be Hispanic. And many of my Latinas liked to ask me questions about my in-laws and what it was like to be a white girl marrying into a Hispanic family. (My Hispanic boys were always bummed they couldn't get away with saying naughty things in Spanish in my classroom). I got a lot of street cred for having a black best friend and a Hispanic husband and when you're working with classrooms whose faces are predominately black and brown, it helped.
Anyone else find something interesting in Chapter 3?
~Anna
Chapter 3 Summary: C. Rogers
Chapter 3 details the energy and expectations in Cynthia Nambo’s all-girls middle school science classroom at New Horizons. We learn a bit about her life growing up with a verbally and physically abusive stepfather forced to abandon her Mexican culture, but her commitment to holding students to high expectations and understanding where they come from shines through in her ideas and classroom practices.
I was quite impressed with the richness and depth she planned her lessons with. Students spent time reviewing homework assignments together which involved analyzing and debating research in executive chairs which fit with Nambo’s overall message to the girls “You are important, you should dream big, and if you work hard and persevere, great things await you.” (52). I admire how she acquired classrooms resources and materials that echo this belief. In reading about Nambo’s all-girls classroom and her practice of cross-curricular connections and project-based learning a few questions came to mind. My responses are below and I would like to hear what everyone else thinks.
Do you see disparities between the motivation and performance of girls and boys in the areas of math or science?
New Horizons (Nambo’s charter school) is in response to studies in the 1990s which found preteen and teenage girls learned a “hidden curriculum” which left girls with declining attitudes and achievement in science and math. The girls in Nambo’s class seem relatively engaged with the scientific work considering they brought in outside research and pictures to aid in their at school project, but they also make comments suggesting a slight distaste for the subject matter. I teach elementary and do not really see a difference between the attitudes or performance in boys and girls, but I actually find at this age that both genders really enjoy science probably due to the hands-on activity. What is everyone else’s experience?
How do you think your school or personal classroom balances expectations with student challenges?
Throughout the chapter we see that Nambo expects her students to do work outside of school and spend significant effort completing projects, but pages 63 and 64 clearly speak to the impact of these expectations. Nambo and possibly the school in general seem to “understand the forces that constrain students and show compassion to their situations, yet at the same time insist that they push against those constraints”. In my experience with urban education I have seen two different examples of this. My first two years of teaching I felt handled this line very well. We knew we had students with challenges and limited resources, but we had consistent, school-wide expectations like keeping shirts tucked in; attending conferences; volunteering at least 1 day a school year; and following classroom social contracts. When this was enforced, I saw students doing very well and showing lots of growth because they thrived in the structure. At this same school, I also saw more at-home projects come back to school. In contrast, the urban school I currently teach at seems to stay stuck within the constraint area and allows many things to build up as excuses. I think it’s important that we do not assume children and families cannot access resources at home, but then find ways to be flexible if it really is not possible. If we do not insist on higher expectations then there’s no room for growth.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Chapter 2 Summary Peter Kreten
I just finished reading Chapter 2 in See You When We Get There. Chapter 2 focuses on Liz Kirby, who is
an African American studies teacher at Matheson Public High School in Chicago.
Matheson is one of the premier Chicago Public School, however over the past two
decades the school has experienced a phenomena known as white flight. The book
states that: “By 2001, white student enrollment had shrunk to less than 5%.”
Even with this, the school is still one of the premier CPS
schools in the entire city. Ms. Kirby is an advocate of social justice in the
classroom and challenges her students to not just accept society the way it is.
She wants her students to make society better and more just. She encourages
debates on crucial “real world” matters such as credit card debit, slavery and
its affect on today’s society, and what it means to be an African American.
The chapter describes a class in which the subject of
religion is brought up and Ms. Kirby has an honest conversation with her
students about Christianity’s impact on African-American culture, both positive
and negative. She is fearless in the discussion as she mentions her own
conflicting feelings on the subject matter. (Pages 33- 36)
It seems that no topic is off limits for discussion in her
classroom. Ms. Kirby brings in articles about police brutality, why it is
important to improve impoverished communities, and other real world topics. Her
teaching methodology includes student accountability, no matter how small the
infraction is. Assessment through various strategies, the text describes how
she has her students write a poem in response to a topic they covered in class.
She assigns readings outside of the history textbook, as she has her students
read the autobiography of Malcolm X.
As I was reading the chapter, I found myself nodding my head
in agreement with many of Liz Kirby’s philosophies on education. I loved how
reading was such an important part of her class. You can tell that she really
cares about her students and their success. There is a line at the end of the
chapter where Ms. Kirby is states: “That’s why a philosophy of love and hope is
so important. You have to believe that people and things can change for the
better.”
This chapter does an excellent job of showcasing a dedicated
and inspirational teacher. I found that many of Ms. Kirby’s teaching methods
and philosophy are very similar to my own. This was a very insightful read. It
shows me that even in the public school setting, you do not always have to
teach to the test. You can have real moments of learning transpire. If you want
them too, you have to make them happen.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sorry y'all! I've been ill the last few days, but I promise I've been keeping up with the reading. As I predicted, the book is a quick read. I finished chapters 1 & 2 on Thursday night after the boys went to bed. I jotted down a few questions as I was reading.
First, (and I touched on this a little in my response to Meredith) how do you all feel about the race divide in teaching? Do you believe that white teachers cannot teach students of color as well as teachers of their own race? Have any of you had an experience with race in the classroom?
In Chapter 2 there were several quotes I pulled out. First, "Liz believed it was extremely important for African American kids to have teachers with whom they could connect culturally and historically" (21). I bristled at this a bit. At my previous district there weren't as many black teachers as there were white teachers. It wasn't by choice. None of our African American population chose to come back to their hometown to teach. In fact, I had been told by several of my students of color they weren't ever coming back once they got to college. Sure, it would be great if our black and Latino students had role models of the same color and culture as them, but we can't drag teachers kicking and screaming. And what makes me an ineffective teacher of students of color? Simply my skin color? Isn't that racist in a way? But then I turned the page and the teacher in question continued her observation. "Liz thought some people took the notion too far: first, in thinking that an African American teacher would be effective with black students simply by virtue of her blackness; and second, in thinking that white teachers could never be successful teachers of African American children because they couldn't relate to them in genuine ways" (22).
I experienced this personally. Our curriculum coordinator thought she had a sympathizer in my ELA partner, who was African American. Well, she wasn't raised in the South and had more in common with me, the white girl, than the curriculum coordinator.
I felt I was effective with our students, but I noticed that my ELA partner could get away with a lot more "outrageous" behaviors because the kids excused her as "one of us." The assumption was she was the better teacher because she was easier to relate to. And then our third year working together she got into some trouble when she attempted to teach a racially-charged book to a class of predominately white children. When we spoke about it, she seemed confused why these parents, who had had no problem with her controversial lessons prior to this, suddenly didn't want their children learning about this particular book.
I really responded to Liz's observation on page 22 that in order to "teach black kids well, a white teacher has to be able to say, 'I know I'm white and this can be really complicated, so let's talk about why that could be'." One of the best lessons I ever taught was during a unit on juvenile justice. One of my black male students had a huge chip on his shoulder. He was convinced "the system" was out to get him. And by "the system" he meant everyone who was white. He made a comment about "honkies" and the whole class sucked in their breath waiting to see what their "honky" teacher would say. I just addressed it honestly. Calling me a "honky" was as derogatory as me calling someone of color the "n" word and why did he feel discriminated against? It was such an honest discussion, it really opened my eyes. The kids wanted to tell me what it was like to be black or Latino.
Another time my student aide asked me why my hair was so soft when hers felt so dry and rough. I said I didn't know, but I had always wanted to have curls like she did. We looked up the science of hair together and learned about why different races had different texture hair.
In the end, I absolutely agree with Michie's observation that "good teaching...nearly always comes back to personal relationships" (48). And I hope that my students, no matter their color, learned that we can all work together and honesty goes a long way. I know I changed at least one boy's opinion of white people.
Second question: In what ways can we learn from our teachers of color to improve our own teaching?
I will not be at the meeting on Thursday. I have a meeting at the church. Can someone please email me what we discuss and any decisions? annadavila1981@gmail.com
Thanks! Anna
First, (and I touched on this a little in my response to Meredith) how do you all feel about the race divide in teaching? Do you believe that white teachers cannot teach students of color as well as teachers of their own race? Have any of you had an experience with race in the classroom?
In Chapter 2 there were several quotes I pulled out. First, "Liz believed it was extremely important for African American kids to have teachers with whom they could connect culturally and historically" (21). I bristled at this a bit. At my previous district there weren't as many black teachers as there were white teachers. It wasn't by choice. None of our African American population chose to come back to their hometown to teach. In fact, I had been told by several of my students of color they weren't ever coming back once they got to college. Sure, it would be great if our black and Latino students had role models of the same color and culture as them, but we can't drag teachers kicking and screaming. And what makes me an ineffective teacher of students of color? Simply my skin color? Isn't that racist in a way? But then I turned the page and the teacher in question continued her observation. "Liz thought some people took the notion too far: first, in thinking that an African American teacher would be effective with black students simply by virtue of her blackness; and second, in thinking that white teachers could never be successful teachers of African American children because they couldn't relate to them in genuine ways" (22).
I experienced this personally. Our curriculum coordinator thought she had a sympathizer in my ELA partner, who was African American. Well, she wasn't raised in the South and had more in common with me, the white girl, than the curriculum coordinator.
I felt I was effective with our students, but I noticed that my ELA partner could get away with a lot more "outrageous" behaviors because the kids excused her as "one of us." The assumption was she was the better teacher because she was easier to relate to. And then our third year working together she got into some trouble when she attempted to teach a racially-charged book to a class of predominately white children. When we spoke about it, she seemed confused why these parents, who had had no problem with her controversial lessons prior to this, suddenly didn't want their children learning about this particular book.
I really responded to Liz's observation on page 22 that in order to "teach black kids well, a white teacher has to be able to say, 'I know I'm white and this can be really complicated, so let's talk about why that could be'." One of the best lessons I ever taught was during a unit on juvenile justice. One of my black male students had a huge chip on his shoulder. He was convinced "the system" was out to get him. And by "the system" he meant everyone who was white. He made a comment about "honkies" and the whole class sucked in their breath waiting to see what their "honky" teacher would say. I just addressed it honestly. Calling me a "honky" was as derogatory as me calling someone of color the "n" word and why did he feel discriminated against? It was such an honest discussion, it really opened my eyes. The kids wanted to tell me what it was like to be black or Latino.
Another time my student aide asked me why my hair was so soft when hers felt so dry and rough. I said I didn't know, but I had always wanted to have curls like she did. We looked up the science of hair together and learned about why different races had different texture hair.
In the end, I absolutely agree with Michie's observation that "good teaching...nearly always comes back to personal relationships" (48). And I hope that my students, no matter their color, learned that we can all work together and honesty goes a long way. I know I changed at least one boy's opinion of white people.
Second question: In what ways can we learn from our teachers of color to improve our own teaching?
I will not be at the meeting on Thursday. I have a meeting at the church. Can someone please email me what we discuss and any decisions? annadavila1981@gmail.com
Thanks! Anna
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Chapter 1
Well I just finished reading Chapter 1, and I thought it was an excellent introduction to the author, his background, and teaching philosophy. But more importantly what the purpose of this book is, and his overall hypothesis. Michie wants to explore first hand teaching experiences of teachers in urban classrooms. Specifically minority teachers.
One aspect of the chapter that I was very impressed by was Michie bringing to the forefront his one prejudices and how this books is really his interpretations (a snapshot as it is called in the book) of the events he observed. I feel that researchers do not do this enough. Last semester I had a course covering Ethnographic research and one of the key aspects of this research approach that I liked a lot was admitting your own prejudices and biases right away. That way the reader knows where the author is coming from, and has the best possible "whole picture" at their disposal to make their own conclusions.
"Regular" research very rarely does this.
One aspect of the chapter that I was very impressed by was Michie bringing to the forefront his one prejudices and how this books is really his interpretations (a snapshot as it is called in the book) of the events he observed. I feel that researchers do not do this enough. Last semester I had a course covering Ethnographic research and one of the key aspects of this research approach that I liked a lot was admitting your own prejudices and biases right away. That way the reader knows where the author is coming from, and has the best possible "whole picture" at their disposal to make their own conclusions.
"Regular" research very rarely does this.
Welcome to our Blog
Hi everyone, welcome to our blog on Reflections on See You When You Get There. I hope everyone has the username and password. If you do not, please contact me and I will send it to you. The way I am thinking we can best use this blog is commenting on others posts. In order to do this, you just need to be logged into your Gmail account and then you will be able to post comments on everyone's posts. Please let me know what you think?
-Pete
-Pete
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