Saturday, July 7, 2012

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.




2 comments:

  1. Stephanie,

    I appreciated so much of what you wrote for cycle one, namely the emphasis you placed on guiding students through the process of 'successful failure' in the classroom. Your reflection of why students start their questions with the tone of impending failure is a great illustration of the innate fear that we as humans are born and raised with in America.

    You mention that your last middle school was an IB school and supported the IB learner profiles. You also state that you might not go so far as to create a report card around these ideals. Did you track these learner profiles at your school? How were they used? I would love to learn more about it as I am very interested in using ClassDojo or some other behavior management system to emphasize these character traits in the classroom this year. We use standards-based grading at our school, which is great for communicating to students and parents whether or not each standard and learning goal is being met, but it doesn't leave much room for character tracking. The development of a system that utilizes the learner profiles would be very powerful for everyone.

    I was equally struck by the supporting articles that you picked, especially the NYTimes article about MBA students in France. In my mind, this could be a really powerful activity that could be performed in the classroom during the first week of school, as well. I teach 7th grade science, and I would love to create a problem-based unit for the first week that is centered around this idea of immediately focusing on and developing teamwork, discipline, competition, and again, 'successful failure.' Not only would such a project be engaging for the students, but it would clearly set the tone for the rest of the school year.

    How do you currently structure the teaching of successful failure? Do you offer 'redos' and other opportunities for students to learn and make themselves better? If so, is there a point where you stop offering a redo, such as when you think a student may be working the system? Your ideas about the problems with failures in standardized tests are so true. We should think about developing a system that allows our students to not only see their scores, but change their answers on the test at a later time, using the test as a learning tool, rather than just a high stakes diagnostic device. In Colorado we take the CSAP in March every year. We always reveal the scores to our students and some teachers even go through the results in a deeper way. However, we could take time in the fall and reflect with our students about why they got some answers wrong and then devise a way to learn those skills that were left behind. (However, we would need to see the questions, which is currently impossible. We're handcuffed, but it's nice to dream.)

    Great post. I'm looking forward to reading more of your thoughts in the coming weeks.

    -Kaleb

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  2. Hi Stephanie,

    Thank you for your work this post!

    I have to admit, when I saw that you were going to use pretty much all the readings, I thought your post might just glide over the surface of each of them. Anything but!

    You really pull things together in a very powerful and insightful way here. I particularly loved the anecdote about students starting their sentences off with disclaimers (you may not be surprised to know that doctoral students do the same thing--they even spend big chunks of times in their dissertations discussing the "limitations" of their studies--snooze!).

    You really pull the McDermott article and Alfie Kohn together quite nicely as well. You do a great job of analyzing these big structural factors, and showing how they operate by putting us all into a vicious cycle of comparison, where the failure of the many becomes the measure by which the success of the few is validated. That is a radical point, but one worth making.

    Is there anyway for me to validate my own sense of self that does not involve me feeling superior to others? Is there any way I can do that as a teacher?

    One of my doctoral students wrote about Mother Davis--a foster mother who raised 20-odd some kids, and many more neighborhood kids. Each kid was convinced Mother Davis loved them the most. Can we all become Mother Davises in this regard?

    Great points you raise this cycle! Thank you!!

    Kyle

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