Cycle Three: Embryonic Communities

I have always had an interest in analyzing the psychological or anthropological components of people and cultures; something about the critical thinking required to break something down in order to gain a deeper understanding is very appealing to me.  When my husband and I moved to Italy last September, I was immediately faced with a wealth of cultural differences, most of which greatly puzzled me; I immediately strived to gain a better understanding.  After being in Italy about a month, my husband's company set us up to meet with a "cultural consultant," someone who was familiar with both American and Italian culture, and could give us some guidance regarding why things were the way they were.

A huge breaking point occurred in my understanding when, during one of our 'breaks,' I asked the consultant about Italian school systems and how they work.  She explained that there were a number of differences between traditional Italian education and American education, resulting in significant differences in the cultures and citizens created.  Evidently, in Italian schools, students are grouped at an early age, and end up staying with the same 25-30 person 'class' for the majority of their education (there are a few times when the groups change, such as between primary and secondary school).  As a result, students form strong relationships at an early age and continually build upon them since they stay with the same group for years and years.  Culturally, this translates to very set social circles who feel a great deal of loyalty for one another, but remain somewhat difficult for any outsider to break in.  In other words, as the consultant explained to us, many individuals in Italy are willing to become acquaintances, but someone who is looking to form an entire new group of friends is rare.  It is even looked upon as very strange (sometimes critically, as it is assumed there must be something wrong with the person since they should already have friends).  In greater society, this appears in a number of ways, among them being the prominence of small family businesses, the willingness to look past weaknesses in friends, even in professional settings, and the fact that storekeepers, servers, etc. are often cold towards new people until they get to know them (which we definitely experienced).  In contrast, American schools focus much more on the ability, effort, and achievements of the individual, which is a direct parallel to our societal and cultural philosophies regarding the payoff of hard work and the achievement ideology. (More basic information about the Italian school system)

Obviously, both of these structures have various strengths and weaknesses.  The outcomes of the Italian model are not, in my opinion, by any means ALL desirable ones, however, the close-knit communities that are a result are desirable, particularly when contrasted with the American objective of "always looking out for #1."  Especially in the technology-driven societies of today, the development of  abilities to connect and work well with others is greatly important.  An individual's ability to productively work with others whom one doesn't necessarily care for is, in my opinion, even more important.  The Italian emphasis on communities in schooling fosters the development of such skills, while our traditional American model often falls short.  The development of small learning communities in schools, however, is a viable solution.

I was fortunate to spend my student teaching year in a middle school that, at the time, used methods of interdisciplinary teaming to teach its students.  This allowed for a number of fascinating cross-curricular units to take place, in addition to providing meeting time for the teachers to discuss student issues, plan together, and collaborate.  Learning experiences were rich, highly involved, and multi-dimensional, all highly important attributes of lasting education.  Students greatly benefited from this type of environment and, to be honest, so did the teachers.  Teaming acted as a sort of small learning community for teachers: responsibilities would be delegated and each team member was crucial to the success of the others.  In my subsequent teaching experiences, I found that a number of teachers are not held accountable for what goes on in their classrooms; while some go above and beyond the curriculum, others isolate themselves professionally, close their doors, pass out worksheets, and skip 'required' units or texts altogether.  Not only does this stall the evolution of teaching practices in the school, it hugely disservices the students.  Vast differences and gaps surface in students' educational backgrounds, with their previous years' teachers being a large component.  A teaming approach eliminates a teacher's ability to remain stuck in their ways or remain below the radar as they are held accountable by teammates, much like students experience in small learning communities.  This translates to more progressive educational experiences for students.  As Felner, Seitsinger, Brand, Burns, and Bolten assert, "when teachers have each other and feel like they are both responsible for and have far greater control over their own teaching and ability to influence students across a more substantial portion of the day (because of the reach of the team), they are more likely to hold far higher expectations for those students, to engage them in positive ways, and to convey those expectations to students through both higher levels of support and richer, more challenging and effective instruction" (219).  The cycle continues as confident teachers who have more faith that their students will learn and progress hold them to higher standards, which students rise to meet.

Unfortunately, I think team-teaching techniques are now hard to find, as they cost more money to implement and districts across the state and country are cutting expenses in every possible way.  It's frustrating that the educational moves our country makes includes a great deal of money spent on standardized testing to measure students, teachers, and schools, but no funding or aide is allocated to implement programs or circumstances (such as a national standard regarding the number of students in a classroom) that are perhaps costly, yet yield considerable results, like other countries do.


Educationally successful countries such as Finland, while vastly different from America in many regards, beg for further consideration when it comes to our own school system.  Finland's commitment to the education of its citizens, its support of and high expectations for teachers, and the intense focus on the well-being and success of each student leave no questions as to why their students thrive.  As Dewey said, "What the best and wisest parent wants for his own child, that must the community want for all its children" (19), a mentality Finland takes to heart.  While many American school districts are cutting elective and arts classes to make way for intensive academics and test prep, Finnish schools are focused on ensuring their students get adequate time for play and that they are happy, healthy and successful as students "learn better when they are ready," as teacher Kari Louhivuori stated (Hancock). It makes sense that an approach that cares first for the overall well-being of each student would have positive results, however, in America it often feels as though we are too consumed by measuring our students instead.  


While it is clear that something needs to change in our nation's approach to educating its youth, a lot of these alterations can already begin in our classrooms.  Integrating small group leaning experiences in classrooms not only help students to form important relationships, but it creates a network of people that hold them accountable for their own education.  I like the idea of using a "home group" that students work with throughout a semester, however, I can't shake certain concerns.  For example, at the secondary level, some students has already 'removed' themselves from school, believing that no one cares about them and they don't care about anyone else.  If this student were placed in a small learning group or team and held responsible for a portion of the group's work but did not deliver, would (s)he be chastised by group members, resulting in further removal and demotivation?  When using groups, I typically factor peer evaluations into the final grade of each student, however, I am now wondering if this somewhat removes the responsibility factor both of the struggling student to perform and of group members to motivate and problem-solve.  Has anyone found a better or successful method when it comes to creating a sense of loyalty to group members, especially when it comes to already reluctant students?


There is no denying that it is not enough to just demand our students learn what is put in front of them.  In our classrooms, we must nurture life-long learners, productive citizens, and happy, healthy individuals.  By creating productive embryonic communities in our classrooms and schools, we model success for our students, resulting in a better educational experience overall.  If our students are cared for as people, they will respond positively to their education, rather than feeling isolated, unmotivated, and unimportant.  After all, our students are unique, intelligent and capable individuals, full of potential and should be treated as such, instead of one of the millions we hope will simply fill out the right bubbles on a scantron.

Cycle Two: Challenges and Opportunities in Building Classroom Communities

Being relatively "new" on the teaching scene (with less than 5 years experience), I was able to benefit from a teacher education program that put a great deal of emphasis on both differentiation and building strong classroom communities.  It wasn't until later in my career (and by later, I mean a year or so) that I realized how completely tied together these two concepts are.  Differentiating instruction strengthens classroom communities by valuing each student's needs as well as their strengths.  Instead of competing, students are set up to work together, helping one another and experiencing success on a larger community level.  A strong classroom community also perpetuates trust, a key factor when it comes to students working together and helping one another.  

I try to work differentiation into my classroom and lessons whenever I can, however, as Cheryl Caggiano stated in Fran Shumer's NY Times article, One Classroom, Many Minds; A Paddle for the Mainstream, "It's crazy, insane, and I don't get paid enough."  I find that it is greatly difficult to find the time to really integrate as much differentiation as I would like, not to mention it's a fairly daunting task to effectively place 130 high school English students in strategic groups.  I have, however, found success in a few different areas:

When it comes to writing essays or papers, I like to give my students choices (as most teachers do - who wants to read the same essay 130 times?!?).  Halfway through my first year, I decided to integrate some differentiation into my students' writing choices to see what happened.  I spent a lot of time discussing with each class the different options, the challenges of each prompt (including which was "least challenging," "most challenging" and so on), and the various expectations I had.  I was also very clear about one thing: I greatly respect individuals who challenge themselves, especially when it comes to students' writing.  My classes were made aware that hard work was taken into consideration when it came to grading; in other words, a struggling writer who put forth the effort and pushed him/herself when choosing a prompt would be more 'highly appreciated' than a strong writer who decided to take the easy way out.  Surprisingly (or not, really), my students did a phenomenal job of gauging their own writing skills, taking on challenges, and pushing themselves towards higher order thinking skills, more so than they did when I would require everyone to write the about same thing.  Out of approximately 90 students, I only had to speak to one or two who were still trying to take the easy way out.  Conversely, there were quite a few of my struggling writers who took on the prompt that posed the greatest challenges.  Through peer editing and small group work, students were able to weigh in on one another's ideas without feeling superior or inferior in their own.  They worked cooperatively and improved collectively.  In the end, only 3 or 4 students did not turn in a paper (a dramatically lower number than usual), the students' writing was very engaging, unique, and interesting, and I could easily tell that a number of students were taking risks with their writing and ideas rather than writing "safely" as they normally did.  In other words, it was a vast improvement.

Another area in which I was able to differentiate was when staging a mock-trial after we read Antigone.  I had experienced the execution of a similar project during my student teaching year and couldn't wait to replicate it in my own classroom.  We started by discussing the various roles in the trial.  Then, students had to fill out an application (constructed to resemble a job application) to apply for the two roles they would like to fill during the trial (lawyer, judge, witness, jury member, etc.).  It was time consuming to go through all the applications and decide who would do what, however, it allowed for me to give appropriately challenging roles to my students and group them strategically.  Again, students felt a great deal more ownership over their work and were highly engaged in the process.  Coupled with the fun of having students show up on trial day in togas and costumes (for which they received some extra credit points), the trial was a huge success in each of my four classes, mostly because everyone was engaged and committed to their part.  It was understood that every student was needed for the trial to go well; each community member was valued and, consequently, rose to the occasion.

I have also done some work with literature circles, however, I am wondering if anyone else has experienced success with differentiation in a high school classroom.  I feel as though there is a fine line between "worth it" and "insane" when it comes to the time spent setting these differentiated experiences up, however, I recognize the great benefits they offer students.  I feel as though my most successful differentiated teaching experiences are those that do bring the classroom community together and make each student feel valued for his or her contribution.  This is something I would really like to do more of in the coming years (differentiated instruction resources).

Nel Noddings in her article, "What Can Teachers Learn from Research?" discusses a differentiated, team-teaching classroom that looks beyond the realm of expecting students to all learn and move at the same pace just because they are born within the same year.  Created by Noddings and three of her colleagues was an Algebra II classroom that contained about 70 students who were divided into groups according to the area in which they currently needed instruction.  Much like the tech-saavy Khan Academy, students were able to work through material at their own pace.  In Nodding's classroom, however, students moved on to a new group and different teacher when they had completed the chapter, so more student interaction was involved during instruction than Khan's Academy online.  A result of this set-up was essentially ultimate differentiation: students were able to learn and advance when they were ready, not when it was time for everyone to move at once.  Students who needed additional help were able to receive it, while those who understood concepts quickly were able to advance further, continuing to challenge themselves.  To me, this method of teaching seems so effective and so logical (if scheduling permits, I am hoping to try it out with one of my colleagues this year).  After seeing the possibilities associated with such teaching methods, the concept that all students should learn and advance at the same rate is the one that seems so ridiculous and far-fetched, rather than the other way around.  

I have found that one of the greatest values of differentiated instruction is making every student feel important and valued; this concept is further supported by the strong community connections established amidst these processes.  Kahn's Academy not only differentiates instruction completely, but allows for a great number of opportunities for students helping one another, tutoring one another, and valuing one another for their various strengths.  Therefore, not only are students learning material, but they are also working cooperatively and building a strong classroom community.  

Emily Pilloton's design-focused classrooms take the benefits of a strong classroom community, differentiated instruction, and cooperative learning even further by involving the greater community.  In her design classes, students must work together to form real solutions for community problems.  They learn through failure, formulating then testing and modifying prototypes before implementing their solutions.  Not only does this establish a strong community within the classroom, but it also carries these relationships out into the larger community, valuing students' contributions to their town.  Students are given both a place and a purpose, both of which are highly important goals when it comes to teaching.

We hope our students emerge from public schooling as motivated, dream-inspired individuals who will fix the problems created by the ignorance of generations before them.  Students must first be taught, however, that they are unique, valued, and important in the world; otherwise, where will they gather the confidence to even venture out?  Differentiation shows students they they are important members of the classroom and that their learning and development is important.  Strong communities further enforce this feeling of value, showing students that they are needed and appreciated.  Such principles should be an integral part of the classroom, embedded in the structure of education itself.  Instead of trying to make each student fit a mold of a "successful" student who can perform well on standardized tests, we should be helping them find their place and purpose first in the classroom and local community so that they can fulfill their potential far beyond.

Cycle One: Interpretations of the Meaning and Causes of Failure

A number of teachers I have encountered absolutely hate when students raise their hand during a lesson and ask, "Why do we have to learn this?" or "When am I ever going to use this in my life?"  These questions are viewed as an act of defiance, and sometimes they are meant as such; the student is challenging the teacher or the institution who believes it knows what is best for the student.  I, however, love these questions.  It shows that my students are thinking critically, are willing to question, and it reminds me that I need to be transparent with the purpose of my lessons.  The discussions that follow such 'challenges' are rich, honest, and engage every single student - because they all want to know the purpose of their work!  Our discourse leads to an evolved view not only of the assignment or lesson, but of the discipline itself.  Students, newly motivated, eagerly return to their work with a palpable sense of determination and purpose.  I welcome these "challenges" in my classroom; in fact, some of my best teaching moments have started with a "Why do we have to do this?"  I reserve my disdain and frustration for a different student response.

Last year, I transferred from teaching high school to a middle school in our district and began a new journey of teaching seventh grade English Language Arts.  Almost immediately, students began to get under my skin.  It wasn't the age-level, nor was it their behavior; I loved teaching seventh graders almost immediately.  What I couldn't stand was my students raising their hands to contribute their ideas during class and, each time, starting with "This is probably wrong, but..." or "I don't think this is right, but..." or, the worst one, "This might be stupid, but..."  It drove me crazy!  Where on earth did these individuals at the ripe-old-age of twelve learn that all of their thoughts were either wrong or stupid?!?!  I finally banned students from saying anything along those lines, and, if one did, they had to backtrack and say something positive to introduce their ideas instead.  Luckily, the middle school I was at was an International Baccalaureate middle school, which means we had the "IB Learner Profile" to use as a talking point.  The "IB Learner Profile" highlights the characteristics IB Learners should exhibit, being an Inquirer, Caring, Knowledgeable, a Thinker, a Communicator, Principled, Balanced, Open-Minded, a Risk-Taker, and Reflective (IB Learner Profile Guide).  This list was frequently discussed in all classes and tied to curriculum whenever possible, much like the character traits Levin introduced in his KIPP charter schools (Tough).  These IB Learner Profile traits allowed my students to discuss their 'answering etiquette' and understand that by raising their hands and contributing, they were proving themselves to be great IB Learners.  They were being Thinkers by analyzing the information and coming up with a unique idea or Inquirers by asking further questions, they were being Communicators by volunteering to share their thoughts, and they were being Risk-Takers because it's not always easy to put oneself out there and share ideas.  Not one of those characteristics had anything to do with being right or wrong, smart or stupid; it was the practice and the act itself that was valued, something my students finally came to understand.  Having the Learner Profile traits as a common thread, one with which my students had experience and were confident, made a huge difference in our ability to discuss their attitudes towards 'failing,' and make positive changes.  While I don't necessary know how I feel about issuing a "character report card" like the teachers at KIPP did, I do feel that it greatly benefits a school to have a character or learner profile to reference, one that is common across grades and subjects.  If nothing else, it shows students that characteristics aside from academic intelligence matter to their teachers across the board, and that the disconnect they see and feel across subjects does not extend to their actions and character choices.

The importance of character, specifically self-motivation, has not gone unnoticed other places as well.  MBA students in France, for example, undergo "leadership training" that involved helping an 'injured colleague' across a number of muddy pits with limited supplies (full NY Times article).  The goal is teamwork, oftentimes across a vast variety of nations, professions, and languages.  The situation, it should be noted, requires 'learning in the field' by first undergoing repeated failures, rather than discussing leadership characteristics in a classroom environment.  Providing students and adults alike with a stimulating, authentic environment inevitably results in life-long learning experiences, as it challenges in a very real way.

James Paul Gee touches on these issues with his discussion of the allure of video games.  As he points out repeatedly, video games are challenging, involve lots of failure, and demand that the parties involved do some real learning in order to succeed.  Interestingly, "real life" acts in much the same way; in any given profession, expertise is acquired by years of experience (in other words, making mistakes and learning from them), so why don't schools operate in this manner?  Somehow, as our nation's youth move through our educational systems, they are conditioned to fall into the socioeconomic roles so prevalent in America.  While some are hard-wired for success, growing up in the 'dominant' white, middle-class culture that so easily translates to our school and institutional structures, others are taught to fail, with reinforcements that no matter what they do, they will always fail.

The fact that minority students struggle in our school systems is nothing new (when I use the term minority, I mean it in a number of ways: racial, ethnic, cultural, linguistic, socioeconomic, etc.).  The high school I started at and will return to for next school year has even instituted a special study and intervention program to confront the achievement levels of our African American student population, especially the males, as they fall lower than their counterparts across the board.  McDermott discusses the dire need to look at school structure and the very fabrication of "failure," rather than solely focusing on the minority groups themselves.  He explains, "The breakthrough comes when we realize that their situation is not theirs alone; it is ours as well.  We help to make failure possible by our presence, by our explanations, and by our successes; similarly, those who fail in school, by their presence, by their being explained, by their failures, make our successes possible" (362).  By explaining failure, we are rationalizing its existence, thereby allowing it to happen.  When we 'understand' why these minorities fail, we also see why we, the majority, succeed, which also concretizes the cycle.  Challenging success as well as failure is necessary.  In my classroom, instead of giving an assignment and knowing what students I can count on to succeed and what ones will struggle or simply give up (which we all can usually do in a class), I should be rethinking assignments to facilitate successes for my minority or struggling students, while challenging my high-achieving students to look at things outside of their own cultural scope.  Everyone in a class should be taking risks, facing failures and be challenged to think outside of their cultural norms, not only minority students whose 'home cultures' do not match that of the institution.

The notion of failure resulting in punishment, however, always seems to loom as a black cloud over our heads, and is rooted in the institution itself (Palmer).  Though teachers may work to eliminate such perceptions in the classroom, they inevitably return in the form of standardized tests.  After all, when schools are told that failing test scores result in less funding or district take-overs, teachers are then told it is their responsibility to have their students pass those standardized tests.  My district has a long history of being highly successful and receives top ratings, however, MEAP preparation was considered a legitimate unit to start the year with at the middle school level; what a way to set the tone for a class!  No wonder students fear giving "wrong" answers in class discussions.  Alfie Kohn is an adamant advocate of teaching students and not teaching to the test.  I saw him spoke at a MCTE conference years ago, in which he observed the following: our nation gives tests, however, when everyone succeeds on the tests, instead of celebrating, we immediately say, "That test must have been too easy! Fix it and make it harder!"  We set goals to have all of our students pass, but we're really not happy unless someone is failing.  The truth of this statement is daunting, and highly indicative of our society.  Someone must fail so that others can succeed.

In my opinion, this mentality should never be a part of any classroom.  We learn best from our mistakes; classrooms should encourage characteristics of risk-taking and perseverance, rather than suffocate any but a "right" answer.  Fostering the development of strong character or learner skills as the IB program does or as Levin set out to do at KIPP makes clear to students the fact that there is more to success and happiness than good grades or good test scores.  After all, I have never had a student who tried, fail my class.  My only failures were those students who did not show up, did not do work, and had already given up and given in.  Those students have been taught that the system works against them and they are destined to fail; instead, it is the system that is currently failing them.  Like we try to teach our students, however, we need to persevere, not give up after these years and years of failure, reform and try over and over again to ensure that learning takes place and our goals are met.


Resources:

Paul Tough. (2011, September 14). What If the Secret to Success is Failure? The New York Times Magazine.

Sugata Mitra: (2010, July). The Child-Driven Education. TEDGlobal 2010.

R.P. McDermott. (1987). The Explanation of Minority School Failure, Again. Anthropology and Education Quarterly, 18(4), 361-364.

James Paul Gee. (2005). Good Video Games and Good Learning. Phi Kappa Phi Forum, 85(2), 33 - 37.

Parker J. Palmer. (1998). The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life (Chapter 2). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers.