Tag Archives: Practicum

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.

01/25/15

I think I like PE now!

I must admit… prior to stepping foot into the classroom as a teacher candidate, the idea of teaching physical education unnerved me somewhat.  So does the thought of teaching French, but we will save that story for another time.  Fortunately, I have the wonderful opportunity to study under Steve McGinley and learned that PE doesn’t have to be taught in a meritocratic manner.  And so, tasked with leading a class full of wonderful individuals possessing a diverse range of experience and skills, I move forward with this week’s task:  dribbling, chest passes, bounce passes, and a juicy introduction to set shots.  In the sake of brevity, this post will focus solely upon the lesson and lessons learned from said lesson.  Another post to follow on the meat of the happenings of last week, and more musings to come…

* * *

Plan:  modified warm-up allowing for dribbling and pass practice.  How to achieve this and introduce/set shot practice?  Well, I wanted to make sure each student had a good opportunity to practice, which involves time… and I had no clue how many baskets were going to be available (we had 5 at my elementary school as a child… which, in retrospect, was a rather impressive number).  So, during the drive to the school (and while weaving in and out of rain-slogged traffic), I had the bright idea of forgoing the typical 3 lap jog around the gym and use the skills practice to warm up!  Seeing as we recently covered assessment techniques in PE, assessment was somewhat on my mind…

… and so I hatched the great idea of having them all run around the gym to pass me the ball.  Yes, just me.  While it was great for formative assessment (and the kids loved the idea of doing something other than running around the gym), it created the unfortunate problem of TRAFFIC JAM!  On the bright side, most of the students took the opportunity to practice their dribbling while chatting with their friends, but this issue could have been mitigated by separating the class into small groups or partners.

My set shot mini-lesson and following activity went fairly well.  The students were having fun experimenting and celebrating their successes; I stopped the class and gathered everybody around for some strategy-sharing.  After giving a few more pointers, I tasked the groups with trying to score as many baskets as they can (as a group) within 5 minutes, with the winning group deciding on a kind of exercise I would get to do (ie — I do pushups, or burpees).  I feel that changing the focus from individual to team helped some students get away from their fear of failure to simply having fun participating with their classmates.  While no group got even close to the minimum number of baskets I challenged them with (haha, nobody can get 100 baskets!), we still had a great time debriefing.  Well, they did — I did a pushup for each student’s contribution, whether it be something they tried that worked or “nothing”.  I temporarily forgot that there were 25 students in the class, and that while they all had the option of participating, it was still in front of the class.  Perhaps next time I will use more Think-Pair-Share.  And next time I’ll have them join me in pushups, too!  Or perhaps a Walk-and-Chat, that would make a nice cool-down… can’t wait to try next week!  My class is awesome — it’s hard to believe that the same class who bounced off the wall in The Story of the Wasp is the same class that gave me its undivided attention as I hit the rim not once or twice, but three times as I was demonstrating the set shot.  Nothing but net on the fourth attempt, though!

PS — D was invaluable as a classroom resource.  Initially he shared, nonchalantly, “I have to shoot from further away.  I can’t score baskets up close.”  I looked at him and jokingly replied, “seriously?”  He replied, “yes, Mr. T,” turned around, paused for a second to aim, and shot a basket from just outside free throw range.  Nothing but net.  “Respect,” I said to him, passing him my ball.  Without a word, he shot the ball I tossed to him, which followed his to its home through the red iron.  Okay, I trusted him to give his classmates pointers from then on.  I’ll share the story of how we began our amicable relationship another time.

01/8/15

And now, for a change of pace…

… and we’re back to school!  Winter break was very enjoyable (a little too enjoyable), but it’s great to get back into the groove.  And back to school means… back to practicum, and back to another fun-filled day at the school!  My SA requested that I try my hand at teaching another PE class last time we met, so we went into the gym after French.  The kids all brought their gym strip!  I was so impressed with them that I immediately sent them on 3 laps around the gym (being sure to touch all four walls) to get the party started… and hadn’t noticed that I had yet to turn on the lights.  Ecstatic, E shouted, “All right, Mr. T!  You’re awesome!  Guys, let’s go run in the DARK!”  Being the way he is, he shouts this as he’s running into the gym.  Fortunately he stopped when I told him to wait as I fumbled around for the lights.  Aside from that, the lesson turned out very well!  We were starting basketball, and my SA had suggested that I try to teach some passing techniques along with dribbling (which I originally intended).  The kid surprised me with their full, undivided attention and enthusiastic participation!  By the end of the class everyone was able to do chest passes — a few of the girls, who’ve actually never held a basketball (what?!), exclaimed that they were actually good at a sport, which brought a huge grin to my face.

Aside from that, however, today was a teaching-free day.  Today’s math block was self-guided; science in the afternoon was not only self-guided, but my SA was assessing the students’ ability to independently follow instructions and problem-solve.  So, I can only speak of the French lesson that took place within the classroom (our prep block).  The following is an observation of a team-taught French lesson (!) that I absorbed via osmosis, as I was marking the kids’ spelling homework.  This announcement may have been met with alarm, but please, suspend your uneasiness for a moment — it will make sense further on.  PS:  my SA told me to pay special attention to the other teacher, because his teaching style was very different from my SA’s.  This interesting change is made even more interesting in that I now know that the French teacher was actually replacing the teacher who normally taught French.  And that teacher, interesting enough, is our vice principal.

* * *

The lesson hook was simple enough — the kids recognized the vice principal and were rather energetic… very uncharacteristic of the class, as French was usually met with little enthusiasm.  The vice principal and his partner took turns talking and teaching:  the vice principal would say a phrase en francais, and his partner would provide an English translation.  He spoke in English as well, but the vice principal spoke mostly in French during the instructional phase.

The interesting difference, I noticed, is the fact that the vice principal taught in an anecdotal method.  He would say a phrase, ask the class to repeat the phrase several times, after which he would teach the meaning and tell a short story about the phrase, or make a short comment or joke.  Today, I learned that asking for the “wash basin” (which means washroom) in the wrong place in the world would be met with snickering and a retort, “Why, do you smell?  Do you need to take a bath that badly?”  Funny enough, few people make that association in English, as most public bathrooms don’t come with fancy shower facilities.  Or any facilities, but I digress.

The students quite enjoyed the lesson, and showed their enthusiasm in full participation.  Several students carried on side conversations, usually comments on the funny and silly anecdotes the vice principal shared with the class; while my SA and I would normally address the side conversations, the vice principal was very comfortable with these and as a result, the environment was noticeably noisier and more boisterous.  I can say without a doubt that the kids all enjoyed today’s French class; whether they retain the phrases learned, however, will need to be determined in the future.

Perhaps the students quite enjoyed the change of pace; perhaps they liked the more active nature of the new unit.  While they didn’t exactly all rush off to the toilet at the same time, the kids got plenty of practice standing up, sitting down, raising their hands, asking for words like “banana” (banane), “roast beef” (rosbif), and “salad” (salade) en francais.  They particularly liked the vice principal’s silly pun — his way of saying “making roast beef” was “duing rosbif” (du is a subject marker, and a fun homonym for “do”).

And the class, surprisingly, calmed down and lined up orderly (with no chatter!) in preparation for PE class.  I find it kind of cute how one or two students would find out I was teaching (one or two kids would always ask me in the morning, “Are you teaching us today, Mr. T?”) and quickly spread the news, sending everyone into “best behaviour mode”.  I’m thinking that this might be a good thing to take advantage of… oh well, I’ll take it!

11/29/14

Challenge: Physical Activity in 30 minutes

Back in school again!  While I relish the opportunity to collaborate and dissect theories and concepts with my colleagues within the classroom, it lacks the intensity and excitement that comes from entertaining a group of children.  Before we begin, story-time:

* * *

My last lesson offered quite the learning experience.  Moral of that story is… simplify, simplify, simplify.  Just like fractions!  And so, when my SA asked me to lead a PE class, and to focus on picking a game that is fun and engaging yet straightforward, ideas immediately began to swim in my head.  See, I didn’t really like PE as a class, mostly because I was not very athletic; fortunately that is not a concern with my class.  Nonetheless, I went on a search for fun, team-based games that offered opportunities for inclusion.  I suggested two games to my SA:  one volleyball-based, one open space-based (we weren’t sure whether we would have the volleyball nets up or not).

… she again stressed the importance of keeping things straightforward and simple for the students.  Right, right… I had to teach the students how to play the games before actually playing.  So, back to the drawing board… I found a tag-based game called Prisoner of War that I thought would be quite a lot of fun, seeing as it’s team-based and offers students a variety of different strategies (lots of running, or strategic short bursts of speed).  I also suggested Jailball and “Ga Ga”, two hugely popular games from my days working at a childcare centre.  My SA shared that her class has played Jailball before (under a different name), and that I could consider Prisoner of War or Ga Ga… although I should consider how much time is required for each (the students only had half an hour for PE every Thursdays).  In my zeal I overlooked this important detail!  Note to self:  consider all aspects of problem-solving when considering possible solutions…

* * *

I admit that I’ve been taking advantage of the students’ enthusiasm for class management.  I told a few students “I will be teaching PE class today, and will explain the game we’re playing today once we’re in the gym.  And we’ll head to the gym after everybody has their PE strip and shows me they’re ready by standing in line.”  To my amazement, the students began to self-organize, spreading the message (Mr. Tsang’s teaching today!) and giving each other friendly reminders to get ready for PE class.  Confirmation, again and again, that acknowledging each student individually goes a long way!  I’m really glad that I took the time to get to know each student during my first few weeks observing.

The students got changed relatively quickly and the first few students ready (E was the first; he’s the only student who prepares for PE by arriving at school wearing his gym strip), but we had to wait a few minutes for the previous class to clear the gym.  Once the previous class cleared out of the gym, I instructed the waiting students to run 4 laps (which was met by a few groans).  And once the students were winding down, I informed a few of them that there was a reason I made them run 4 laps as warm-up, because… they will be running even more during the activity!!!  They would likely all boycott my gym class if I pitched it like that, so I repackaged it as a fun game.

Thing is, as I was image training by imagining the students running around (all of whom were having fun, of course!), I had imagined the gym to be much bigger than it actually was.  My SA noted that the game would be a lot more fun if we were playing on the field, since 13 students standing in half the gym was… actually rather cramped!  I had foreseen the students not paying attention if I started off by telling them they would be separated into two separate groups, so I separated them prior to telling them about the game.  In a moment of silliness, I sent them to opposite corners of the gym… and to confirm that I didn’t exactly make the right choice, I saw out of the corner of my eye E jumping up against and kicking the big cushioned barrier on his side of the gym.  So as to not call attention to him, I instructed everybody in the class to sit down and await instructions.

Now, with the added difficulty of communicating the rules across the gym (good job, Tony!), I relied instead on students to repeat back the instructions/rules to ensure they understood.  I would tell them a rule (your side of the gym is along the outside white lines to the middle red line marked by the cones), and then ask a targeted question where the answer would be what I just said (which part of the gym was your side?).  Originally I set the jail area to be rather large, with the edge fairly close to the centre line.  Sure enough, E picked up on this and expressed his concern, “Mr. Tsang, it isn’t going to be very fair because the jails are pretty close to the centre line,” to which I replied… “… this is on purpose, E, to make the game a little bit easier for us all so we can practice playing.”  I’m sorry, E.  Teacher’s rules!  My SA asked me a question (to help me clarify the boundaries, bless her!), which gave me a chance to clarify the exact boundaries to the students.  Confirming that they understood both the rules as well as the boundaries, they were ready to begin!  Students slowly got up onto to their feet and stalked tentatively towards the other side…

3… 2… 1… start!  And at first, few people moved, opting to stay safely on their side of the gym.  There were a few students who tempted members of the other team by sticking their limbs temporarily over the line; the occasional daring soul would jump two steps over the line, only to giggle and run back when the other team started in their direction.  This standoff continued for several moments, until A made a break for it along the boundary on the far side of the gym.  Around this time I noticed that the gym was rather cramped for a game of this magnitude… and this was confirmed when a student approached me and said, “Mr. Tsang, this is pretty hard… A made it into his jail, but I think he might have run out of bounds to avoid people tagging him.”  Pausing to think for a moment, I decided that it would be a better idea to remove the outer boundary to create more freedom for the students.

Sure enough, shortly after this announcement, several students huddled briefly (likely to discuss strategy), and then darted randomly towards the other side to rescue their friends.  To further encourage this, I temporarily paused the game to reduce the size of the jails, following E’s earlier suggestion.  The game really picked up at this point, with students from each side encouraging each other and sprinting.  There were a few disappointed sighs when players got tagged, but everyone was honest and walked back to their jail, ready to run again.  Soon, the game was over — one side had emptied their jail and won the game!  There were some cheers, some content smiles, and a few sour looks; I called the class over to the middle of the gym and had them sit in a circle around centre.

I invited the students to share their opinions of the game.  In general, they had a lot of fun, but a few of theme expressed frustration at the lack of space and the prevalence of “puppy-guarding” (standing really close to jail to prevent captured players to escape).  Seeing a good opportunity, I decided to engage the class in a short discussion on “strategy-planning”.  Noting that puppy-guarding was both an annoying and effective strategy, I invited the class to brainstorm some ways to defeat the strategy.  There were quite a few good ideas — a few students suggested waiting for when the Guards were “distracted” to make a run for it (the importance of awareness and perspective-taking).  Upon further prodding, A shared his winning strategy with the class — when the rest of the group is distracted with other players teasing and tempting across the line, he snuck along the sidelines and sprinted when he saw that the coast was clear.  After a moment of bubbly excitement, E added to this strategy — “what about when you and a teammate run together at the same time?”  E had successfully used this strategy to help his team win the game:  after whispering to his teammate, they waited for a moment when the defenders’ attention was distracted, and bolted in opposite directions.  The defenders, temporarily confused, were paralyzed and before they could start in either direction, both students had crossed the centre line, winning the game.

The entire class chomped at the bit, eager to try that winning strategy for themselves.  I moved towards resetting the game, but (fortunately) my SA stopped me and reminded the class that the recess bell will be ringing in 5 minutes, and the students needed time to change.  The entire class was disappointed by this sudden interruption; I expressed my own disappointment, telling them that I lost track of time myself and promised them that we would try the game again next time I had an opportunity to teach PE.

* * *

All in all, I was very impressed by how the class managed themselves.  They showed me that despite their challenges with slowing down, paying attention, listening to instructions, and following through, they are capable of excelling.  I was also very impressed with A, who unreservedly shared his strategy with the rest of the class instead of holding onto insight; I could see that he was quite pleased that his contribution was acknowledged in front of the class.  I think I will give him his own tag, as I foresee more interesting contributions from him in the near future.

Take-home learned lessons:

  • Carry a whistle with me into the gym (SA mentioned this, and I agree — should try to preserve my voice)
  • Separating the class into two groups and sending them to opposite ends of the gym makes it very difficult for me to monitor their attending… in the future, I can simply have them sit on either side of a line, but still congregated together
  • Begin setting an alarm to signify the end of the lesson, perhaps with an included 5 minute warning — I wore my watch, telling myself that I would be constantly checking it… unfortunately, I had not really done so, being so invested in students’ experience and encouraging participation
  • Class collaboration gives some students prone to making “negative choices” a positive outlet; however, I still need to work to promote participation from more quieter students.  I noticed that the students who normally wouldn’t contribute to class discussion speaking amongst themselves during the game, which was still a small victory; I would imagine that the more boisterous students (A, E, and a few others) may intimidate those who are less sure of themselves; I would go so far as to say that those students are comfortable with making mistakes and sharing the wrong answer, and as thus feel more empowered to contribute their opinion.  With time…
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…

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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.

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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.