Tag Archives: Introspection

02/19/15

Scripted Connection

Good evening, kind readers!

Thank you for staying with me through this rollercoaster ride of an adventure!  A whirlwind of assignments, presentations, projects, unit plans, and practicum looms on the horizon — perfect time for a storm-chaser like myself!  Building upon the way in which my previous lesson panned out, I had set several goals for myself.

  • Carefully plan out my lesson
  • After carefully planning out the lesson (and accounting for my crowd), script what I’m about to say
  • Commit the script to memory
  • Follow through on the script and don’t do anything strange

In designing the script, I tried to imagine myself in the gym in front of my class… and it all flowed to me — I foresaw several students having experience with lay-ups, with the vast majority not quite sure what I’m talking about.  Thus, to level the playing field (and also offer more experienced students a refresher), I decided to script step by step.  Before stepping into the classroom, I already messed up twice:

  • In consulting the detailed resource for the basketball unit… somehow I had forgotten to include the first instruction (approach the basket at 45 degrees)
  • The email with the lesson plan attachment didn’t send properly
  • I had my cheap plastic dollar-store whistle in my back pocket, and it shattered beneath my weight when I sat down… *sigh*

That first point is ridiculous.  Next time I am going to type up every single step verbatim before tailoring to my response.  Less emphasis on the image training — that should come after getting the instructions right.  As for the second point, I am glad that I followed through with my original plan to commit what I had written down to memory, because I realized (after my SA asked about my lesson plan) that it hadn’t sent… again.  I thought it was strange for us not to have discussed it earlier… need to purchase a new router tomorrow.  Either way, I quickly wrote down the flow of what I was to say, and my SA felt that my instructions were good.  She gave me a good suggestion (aim for the upper corner of the box on the backboard), which I wrote down and committed to memory.  Also, as some of the students still needed to be video-taped as part of Fresh Grade, I was to lead a set shot warm-up.  If that’s to be the case… warm-up will be changed to 3 laps and then a quick mini-lesson on the set shot, with the rest of the class getting videoed.  Once they were all done, lay-ups shall commence!

* * *

… French took a little to wrap up, so we began with ~5-10 fewer minutes to work with.  And I grabbed the wrong clipboard… off to a great start already.

During the mini-lesson I made sure to clearly demonstrate and describe the set shot — athletic position, arm at 90 degree angle, hold ball so it isn’t blocking view of the basket, aim, push UP with arms and follow through.  Demonstrated this twice, then separated the class among the 4 baskets.  I waited until my SA was done with all the videos, and then… lay-up instruction time!

I wanted all the students to be able to see me, so I instructed them to sit in a half circle around the 3-point line.  I demonstrated the lay-up step by step as per the script I laid out, paraphrasing slightly to elaborate on what I felt might have been important to keep in mind; while changing up the wording, I tried my best to stay true to the essence of the plan.  It felt… grounded to teach in that manner.  I demonstrated this skill twice, and then gave the students a chance to try.  This time, I split the class between the only two baskets with the box on the backboard (I wanted them to practice aiming for the corner).  Feedback from my SA, which I will follow through on next time:

  • Better positioning — while the half-circle ensured all students were able to hear me, most of them could only see my BACK during my demonstration
    • I need to be mindful of maximizing the students’ ability to see what I’m doing (this is PE class!)
  • When performing the lay-up, approach the basket from an angle (to really maximize the “aiming for the corner” technique)

This lesson felt quite good, but still left a somewhat sour taste in my mouth.  The class gave me their undivided attention and were quick to stop and listen when I called for everyone’s eyes and ears.  It could’ve been so much better, had I actually provided proper instruction… I can’t shake the feeling that my faulty instruction kept the students from doing better than they would have.  It may mean more time spent, but I definitely need to double my efforts into crafting a solid lesson plan.  I need just one — things may not go as planned, but I want to make sure I know what it feels to not just be prepared, but be backed up by valid and accurate teaching.

02/7/15

Work in progress…

Hello again, blog… now for this week’s edition of Practicum, brought to you by the Social-Emotional Learning cohort!  This post will include more introspection-related musings, so bear with me… the initial post is for my own reference (to provide context), and the meat of this entry will appear after all the stars.

* * *

Today’s task is to teach a mini-lesson on long division featuring decimals divided by a whole number, and numbers less than 1 divided by a whole number.  I was fairly confident heading into this lesson, as I have quite a bit of experience with teaching long division — many of my pupils in the past have struggled greatly with this particular fundamental skill.  So, when my SA assigned this to me as a topic, I was excited for an opportunity to reach the entire class with my instruction!

Arriving early, I spent some time discussing my plan for the mini-lesson with my SA.  I had to clarify some of the particular wordings that I had used in describing what I intended (note to self:  clearer language!), and asked her for more input as to how she want the lesson to be taught.  I really appreciate my SA’s attention to detail — she teaches a strongly grounded, step-by-step method that not only guarantees the correct answer but also incorporates the importance of checking one’s answer after calculating.  She had emphasized the importance of instructing the students to write the equation out horizontally first prior to performing any calculations (ie — translating the bracket form into 3.45 / 4 = ).  This step is vital because while some students had issues with placing the decimal after dividing, this simple step of writing the question out horizontally greatly increased decimal placement.  I wrote down some sample questions that I intended to use as models (I’ve run into trouble in the past by not performing this step) and prepared for the lesson…

I typically spend the recess break reviewing my notes and going through the lesson in my head, reminding myself of the key steps and phrases that I wanted to use during the instruction.  Recess that day had been cut short due to several other goals I wished to accomplish (marking the rest of the spelling assignments).  I had instructed the students to take out their note page that was given to them by my SA because I wished to stress the usage of that resource, and intended to go over how to use the notes to guide their questions.

The first moments were spent setting up the projector (do this before the lesson!!), then walking over to turn out the lights.  In the future, I should ask a student to turn off the lights instead of doing it myself.  I launched into the pre-lesson by asking a question, “What is the first two things we need to write down during our test tomorrow?”  After exchanging puzzled looks, a student offered, “Our name and the date?”  Yes, that is correct… but I was looking for the two tools my SA had introduced:  the Place Value Chart and “HMS Bring Down” (how many, multiply, subtract, bring down).  After fumbling around, I finally wrote down the first question.

… and I forgot the most vital step that my SA stressed in the morning:  write the question horizontally before proceeding further.  It was not until the last question that I realized my error and told the class this vital step.  I walked the class through the process of dividing, stressing that dividing decimals by whole numbers consists of two separate goals:  dividing the numbers themselves, and placing the decimals correctly.  I broke down the steps provided according to the two goals:  the initial dividing was to be straightforward, with the estimation process intended to tell us where to put the decimal.  I ran into some issues with the rounding portion — we are supposed to round numbers bigger than 1 to the nearest compatible whole number; I intended to highlight this by reminding students to look for the first set of numbers we divided.  However, the way I phrased this was rather different from what has been previously taught to the students and fortunately my SA stepped in to correct my error and stated the step in very clear language.

The next question went relatively smooth, but because I had fully explained every single step in the first question, I had sped through the division portion and did not model the HMS Bring Down method mentioned at the beginning of the method.  In retrospect, I should have went through this as I had during my instruction of the first question.  The rest of the lesson went relatively smoothly; E, as usual, asked very thoughtful questions, A helped with a few good contributions, and M asked a really good question about how to decide where to put the decimal.

I fumbled M’s question somewhat.  The estimated answer was 1, after rounding the dividend up; she wanted to know whether to place the decimal before (.425) or after (4.25).  After going through the estimating process, I tied the estimated answer back to decimal placing by examining the numbers created by placing the decimals at all the possible locations.  When we got to .425 vs. 4.25, I explained that .425 is the correct answer because “.425 is closer to 1 than 4.25”, which was vague and ungrounded.  My SA offered a much clearer explanation — “when we estimated earlier, we founded the dividend up to get 1.  Therefore, the answer should be smaller than 1.  Where should you put the decimal to get a number smaller than 1?”

Wow.

* * *

I felt that the lesson proceeded very smoothly and devoid of Ums and Uhhs.  That being said, the way in which I taught the lesson brought out a very serious problem:  my SA had instructed me to teach a certain method and I had not done so; to make matters worse, the method I taught was exactly what the students were doing, and what we were attempting to correct.  During the discussion my SA made sure to clearly communicate the importance of that step as well as her reasoning behind the methodology, which I agreed 100% with and said I would teach.  I did not do that.

This, I imagine, is extremely frustrating for my SA, and this is definitely not the first time that something like this had occurred.  My SA always clearly explains the way she marks each kind of assignment, and I always fully understand her instructions and promise to act accordingly.  However, when time comes to actually follow through, I act as though I had not understood because… well, I had not done what was told of me.  This comes across as negligent and perhaps even suggesting a lack of attention due to a lack of care; definitely not an impression I intend to give off, but I cannot deny the fact that my actions reflect that.

I’ve thought long and hard about why this may be the case… one hypothesis is that the steps and things I omit are not what I would normally consider.  For example, for long division, I do not usually write down the equation horizontally before proceeding.  Moving forward, I believe I need to write things down as I am discussing matters with my SA, especially those points that are stressed.  I need to focus less on the big picture, but more on the details… because often it is these small details that have the biggest effect on the success of my instruction.

Forgetting to do things leads to shoddy teaching, and I do not feel that is acceptable.  My SA deserves better, and I definitely expect more of myself.  Hopefully this is the last time that something like this happens.

Ugh.

11/21/14

Here we go again!

Hello again!  At the beginning of the year I wouldn’t have imagined I’d say this, but WOW, I SURE AM HAPPY TO BE BACK IN THE CLASSROOM WITH LITTLE PEOPLE!  On a more serious note, it was great seeing my SA in the morning again.  Morning strategy-planning/debriefing/preparation provides a slightly different warm fuzzy feeling than learning and absorbing new information and skills within the classroom… maybe a bit more orange.  On a lighter, second note, the more casual tone is representative of today’s realizations…

* * *

The students missed me!  They asked about me!  Outside, I was all, “Oh, heh, that’s awesome, kids.”  Inside, I was like, “OH REALLY, YOU GUYS ARE THE BESTEST BEST KIDS I WANNA HUG ALL OF YOU!!!”  Definitely one of those awesome hug-a-bear feelings that you can only get from being a parent or a teacher.  Oh yes, I liken teaching to parenting, albeit higher stakes (though each could make a strong argument for their case).  Today, I feel confident.  Today, I feel prepared… because today, I will be teaching math!  I had horrible experiences with math while I was younger, but slowly (and surely) I overcame my challenge and have since remained inseparable with math — I’ve tutored math for over 10 years.  I admit, today my breath definitely smelled of hubris… was what I thought.  More likely conceit, but who’s keeping score anyway?

Last post, I mentioned that I realized that one of my biggest pitfalls is that I idealize the students to the point of overlooking telltale red flags that would otherwise indicate a change of strategy.  To compensate, I began by sounding like a stiff board and rushed out the gate with heavy content-laden questions, guaranteed to scare even the hardiest of my supporters from even trying to learn!  My SA is constantly gushing about how far her class has gone since last year, and to this day I cannot imagine the same students who occasionally rib me from time to time as little whirling tornadoes of destruction, creating messes and disruptive behaviour throughout the classroom.  I mean, when I say things like, “everybody, can I have your attention please?” they actually turn their heads and look in my general direction.  Unfortunately, the class did not really offer me any chances to practice those interesting classroom management techniques during the math lesson.  Bummer.

One undeniably positive thing that happened today was E stepping up to bat for Ol’ Mr. Tsang when he was floundering about.  Let me tell you a little bit about E.  This child comes from a very difficult home environment, yet for some reason remains extremely resilient.  If there ever were a child who should not be cheerful it’s E.  He is full of energy, chatty, and very bright; sometimes I can see a sparkle in his eye whenever we talk about something that really catches his attention.  Which is why it is so frustrating to see him constantly making careless errors, forgetting his homework, completing his homework incorrectly, forgetting and otherwise demonstrating complete disinterest and/or understanding of instructions… it’s very hard to look at E and not be disappointed.  That’s not to say he isn’t trying hard, which adds to the frustration.  I’m pulling VERY HARD for this kid to succeed because he NEEDS for his efforts to be validated.  He NEEDS to see that he can contribute in a positive way.  It broke my heart 2 weeks ago when I made the mistake of asking, “Who feels that they are a bad person?” and without hesitation, E shot his hand up high into the air and looked me right in the eyes.  I saw no guilt in his eyes.  What I saw was trust — he was not proud to admit that to the class, and it took a lot of courage for him to put his hand up like that; he was joined shortly by two other hands.  But what I saw in his eyes was “because I trust you, I am going to take a risk and share”.  I froze up and for a few seconds, I was completely overwhelmed at his simple gesture… I nodded in his direction, and quickly changed the topic.

Anyway, E…  I care for all my students equally.  Thing is, with E, I also really, really, REALLY hopes that one day he succeeds.  If I could help him succeed in any way, I would be extremely grateful.  Today… I felt he succeeded.  Here is what E did.

I was teaching a lesson on BEDMAS.  I was nearly through everything I had to say, and upon scanning the room, my eyes were met with quite a few confused looks.  They looked maybe… 50-60%?  While I was scratching my brain and moving my mouth-parts, E put up his hand and asked a question I did not expect to come from him.  As I was looking for a good way to gather my words and explain things, E put up his hand and asked a guiding question — he had noticed that I had not yet gone over the fact that multiplication/division are equally important, and that the only rule governing them was “left to right”.  And he asked me specifically in a way to get me to give that explanation and dig that idea out of the myriad ideas swimming about in my head.  Oh, he didn’t stop there.  He kept asking guiding questions until most of the students in the classroom began slightly nodding their heads.  Not only did E understand Order of Operations, he helped me teach the class!  While I would prefer that he demonstrate his leadership abilities in some other manner (preferably not at my expense), he did a fantastic job.  I look forward to telling this story to everyone I meet.

So, that is E’s story.  It’s a story of how a struggling student saved a drowning teacher candidate.  Okay, perhaps I am exaggerating a bit… I wasn’t quite drowning, but my head was definitely beneath the water.  Today, I learned the value of simple instruction.  I am a wordy person; words follow me, and I like to throw punctuation everywhere.  But from now on, fewer words.  Simpler words.  Effectiver instructions.  Okay, that’s enough out of me.  But I get the point — right now, the goal is maximizing everyone’s success.  And E has shown me that I’m not simply being optimistic.  I look forward to sharing similar stories about everyone else in the class.

PS — another student, D, approached me after class and said, “Thank you for today’s math lesson, Mr. Tsang.”  I was slightly confused, so I asked D for clarification — you’re welcome, and I really appreciate your thanks, D.  But what exactly do you mean?”  He responded (that was one of his spelling words!), “before today’s lesson, I didn’t get Order of Operations at all.  But after you taught that lesson, I really get it now.”  Next week, I’ll tell D that it was actually E who deserves most of the credit for that lesson.

PPS — E approached me while the class was working independently and asked me, “Mr. Tsang, I think I’m done… do you think I can tutor anybody?”  Let’s see if we can’t turn him into a classroom resource!  He gets his own tag now.

10/18/14

The Third Day: My First Actual Teaching Experience

The day began early, at 06:30.  Snoozing exactly 3 times to 3 separate alarms, I will myself out of bed and into my car by 07:00, as I aimed to arrive at school by 07:30.  I have a luxury, you see — my SA is an early riser, which means if I were able to show up somewhere near when she arrives at school, I would have quite a bit of time to get comfortable, help out, and discuss our tasks and goals for the day.  I am by no means a morning person; our pre-school discussions, however, give me wonderful opportunities not only to ask many questions as to my SA’s established routine, her rationale, and her teaching philosophy, it’s also the perfect time for her to share potential challenges to be aware of in the classroom.

I realize that challenging behaviours (I hesitate to use the label challenging children) are the bane of many educators’ existence and source of many frustrations.  It is my hope that in sharing some of these challenges that I can provide some sort of emotional outlet — or simply a chance to vent — as well as a chance for me to be proactive and prepare, ahead of time, coping mechanisms and classroom management strategies to help alleviate and redirect challenging behaviour during the course of the lesson.  I feel that an awareness of these factors contributing to the classroom dynamic helps prevent feelings of surprise and being overwhelmed — planning “for failure” (and by that, I mean planning that includes and accounts for the possibility of failure) removes spontaneity and keeps me “in control” of the situation.

Moreover, my awareness of the challenges that students within my classroom face informs my delivery method.  And it should — if I were aware that there are English-Language Learners in my classroom (there are two such students), then I should endeavour to communicate concepts using clear language and take care to elaborate and define key vocabulary.  And in doing so, the other students in the class also benefit from the additional scaffolding such that they are given a chance to engage the topic in more forms than would otherwise be available.

This is necessary due to the fact that our reactions to our students’ behaviours inform their behaviour that is to follow.  By being proactive and planning around intended outcome, teachers can harness behavioural challenges (when they occur) as teachable moments, guiding students towards desired outcomes through non-confrontational, holistic, and mindful means.  For example, chastisement, even from the best intentions, involves communicating that whatever was said or done was wrong; the notion of making a mistake triggers negative emotions for most, which would then require the engagement of some sort of coping mechanism to diminish and dispel those emotions.  Thus, while certain behaviours are likely to elicit chastisement, educators must try their utmost to refrain from using that tool and if it is absolutely necessary, must be mindful of the additional follow-up task of guiding the affected student back towards a “rich and receptive” learning state of mind.  Through the process of typing this paragraph, for example, I am rather calm (to be honest, I am feeling somewhat bubbly); and because I am calm and receptive, I am capable to seeing that the easiest way to achieve my goal (to not have any negative/distracting behaviours during the course of my lesson) without triggering resentment may be acknowledgement and redirection:  acknowledge that the student is engaging in behaviours that are not contributing to the task at hand, and either brainstorming with the student to discover a process for refocusing their behaviours that works for her, or providing a choice of acceptable alternative behaviours.  In other words, focusing less on the problem (mainly, mymental burden) and more on the solution.

After speaking with my SA of her intended direction of the class, as well as her perspective on the classroom dynamics (with respect to individual students as well), I formed a working understanding of the class and devised a lesson on discerning between “good” and “bad” research questions.  The presence of ELL students within the classroom means that any resources I aimed to introduce as extensions of the lesson — reference document, in-class instructions — should use simple words where possible, with an increased focus on oral delivery and practice.  To account for the student diagnosed with ASD, I am prepared to allow him space to express his ideas if he so desires, to be clear, concise, and firm of communicating my expectations and being firm with my follow-through; also, to ensure that his EA understands the group activity and is thus able to help guide the student’s behaviour towards group participation.  Those students with a “challenging behaviour” designation will require engagement — they need to be distracted from engaging in self-stimulating disruptive behaviour; in other words, they needed to be intrigued by the subject matter and feel compelled to contribute to the classroom discussion.  And the students, in general, have stated that they preferred a more “fun” approach to learning.

All of these observations informed the method in which I chose to deliver the lesson.  As a lesson hook, I intended to generate interest by bringing in a personal narrative and deconstructing the role of questions within the story.  Then, I will guide students in an analysis of the function of questions, and how different kinds of questions achieve different goals.  I aimed to achieve this through questioning students, and have them share their feelings, with particular emphasis on the idea of creating a working definition from shared opinions, thereby communicating to students that their contributions will be of significant value.  I intended to respond to their contributions in a way that incorporates what I was trying to teach:  if their contribution included the concept, I would offer praise, restate the concept, and demonstrate how the student’s contribution illustrated the concept; if their contribution missed the mark, I would acknowledge the student’s contribution, restate the concept and ask a guiding question designed to redirect thoughts back on the right track, thereby ensuring that students will be comfortable with “being wrong”.  After the concept was briefly introduced, the class was to be separated into groups where they would follow instructions (cut out sentences into squares) and separate into categories, offer justification for their choices, and practice turning “bad questions” into “good questions”.  After this activity, we would reconvene as a class, share our findings, and debrief.

That was the plan…

– – – – –

My lesson was to begin after Silent Reading.  Despite this, however, students were somewhat preoccupied and rowdy as a few of them were still in the process of returning from the library (my SA told a few students, who had borrowed graphic novels and/or books far below their reading level, to exchange their inappropriate book for an appropriate one).  Foreseeing the possibility for frustration, instead of attempting to fight for attention and obedience, I instead chose to put my hand up as a “Statue of Liberty” while looking around the room.  Before long, students who noticed followed suit, and when they looked around the room and noticed others otherwise preoccupied, they told their friends to pay attention and get ready.  It was magical to watch this happen — some students maintained their focus on me, while others, noticing my wandering gaze about the classroom, followed my gaze to other children, who were quietly reminded.  Once I had everybody’s attention, I commended the entire class for being able to self-organize in a respectful way, and made it into a game by challenging them to “beat their record”.

Realizing that the aforementioned focusing activity as sufficient as a lesson hook, I used my personal narrative instead to segue into an introduction of the lesson itself.  To encourage sustained attention, I decided to try pacing about as I spoke; it worked wonderfully, so I kept it up.  I would periodically ask questions, and at first, students were nervous to share their thoughts (I felt that this topic may have been new to them), so I took extra care to acknowledge the first contributors and demonstrate acceptance of all answers; shortly thereafter, class participation was increased.  To my amazement, the child with ASD also put up his hand and offered an answer!  He was correct, and after praising him for sharing with the class, his hand immediately shot up and he wanted to share more; I had to redirect, as I hadn’t finished my thought, at which he began to express frustration.  My preparation allowed me to redirect his behaviour in a firm way:  “I will take your comment as soon as I am done explaining this idea.  You will be the first person I call on.”  His hand went down, I finished my explanation, and I immediately called upon him to share his idea (as follow-through).  All in all, this portion of the lesson went extremely well.

The second part of the lesson (small group work) presented several challenges.  First of all, I had not foreseen that the students may require time to cut up and separate the questions, and that this task may cause a distraction if two or more students all want to cut.  Moreover, I had requested a written component, which led to several students feeling overwhelmed.  Finally, the freedom afforded by small group-work led some students to become disengaged from the activity and exhibit distractive behaviour.

The cutting part was unfortunate, so I had to go from group to group to refocus individuals who were showing signs of disengagement.  The concern with the written component, when it was brought to my attention, caused me to make an on-the-spot decision to modify the activity to value what I wanted to do as a follow-up activity (sharing of group findings with the class); I briefly interrupted the class to inform them of some changes:  I decided to simplify the expectations by not requiring written full sentences, but for students to write down whatever notes they deem necessary because the main expectations was to share their findings with the class.  Circulating about the room, I observed that some students opted to write down full sentences, some wrote down several key words on the back of questions, and some not at all.

I observed several students at a table group that remained off-task and were distracting their fellow group members, who were trying to accomplish the assigned task.  I initially intervened gently, simply stating that I noticed from their behaviour that they were not helping their classmates and was thus not constructive; after sharing my observation, I informed them that I would like to see them engaged with the activity.  Later on I had to return to the table due to disruptive behaviour, and this time, I gave the students a choice of acceptable alternatives.  After they made a choice, I acknowledged that and allowed them the freedom to try their choice; after noticing that their choice was a suitable compromise (the students were enjoying themselves, and were working towards task completion), I accepted it as a solution to the issue.

Another issue of note:  the group with the child diagnosed with ASD was able to work seamlessly (it was one of two groups who had not generated disagreements over whose job it was to cut out the question strips).  That group also included one of the ELLs — she was not contributing much to the group discussion, but I was able to confirm that she understood the task.  While she had not spoken much, she demonstrated her understanding by helping with the classification of questions (into “good” and “bad” questions).  I then went to the group where the other ELL student was sitting, and noticed that he was sitting with his hands crossed while his fellow group-mates were looking at him.

One of the students, M, shared with me the state of affairs:  they were in disagreement over the classification of a particular question, “How would we work together to gain more table points?”  4 of the students thought this should be categorized as a “good question”, while the ELL student, T, insisted that was a “bad question”.  I invited T to share his opinion; he began, but began to look down and expressed some embarrassment and insecurity when sharing his response — my intuition, from what he said, was that he based his decision on “good” as the answer is valuable as opposed to “good” as the answer required is complex and open.  I asked him, “so when you say this is a ‘bad question’, do you mean you don’t really care about the answer to that question?” to which he smiled, nodded his head, and replied in the affirmative.  I then asked the same question to the rest of the group — some expressed interest in the answer (yes, they wanted to know ways to get more table points), while some agreed with T (they didn’t particularly care for table points).  Finally, I properly reframed the question for T, “what we’re trying to decide is:  does this question require some thinking for you to give an answer?  If you don’t have to think, then it’s a ‘bad question’; if you have to think a bit, then it’s a ‘good question.’”  T thought for a moment, nodded his head, and replied, “in that case, I think it is a ‘good question.'”

I gave the students a transition warning (2 minutes), and then put my hand up.  This time, the students were much faster, with the additional challenge (self-imposed?) that many students attempted to use non-verbal/silent methods of communicating to distracted classmates.  End result was a 1 second improvement, which was celebrated by a round of applause.  I called upon groups to contribute their findings, and after collaborating, repackaged and summarized the criteria for determining good/bad questions.  After that, I ended the session and moved to distribute the handout — I left this for the end because I didn’t want students to be distracted and reading from the resource.  In the end, I focused so much on classroom management tactics that I had neglected to hole-punch the handouts!  The students chuckled nervously as I quickly retrieved the handouts, punched holes, and passed them back out while my SA took over and gave instructions.

– – – – –

To summarize, contingency planning helps keep me grounded and acts as an effective tool for managing negative emotions that impede productive assessment and facilitation.  I personally find focusing on “how can I facilitate my best case scenario?” helps keep me grounded enough to respond in positive, encouraging ways to situations that would otherwise cause teachers to pull out their hair in frustration.