Friday, August 29, 2014

Form Follows Function

We just started the school year, but many of you are thinking carefully about your first semester final exams.  This is a topic well worth giving time and thought, especially as you continue to create Understanding by Design units.  The first step of UbD is to identify very clearly what you want students to know and be able to do, and the second step is to decide how best to assess student understanding.

I have a test question for you:  According to a recent survey of Harvard undergraduate and graduate courses, what percentage required typical final exams (Blue Book, short answer, multiple choice, etc.)?

You can find the answer at the end of this entry.


Final Exams Redefined

Grant Wiggins says that he is often asked about assessments when he is presenting on the topic of Understanding by Design.  Should teachers give traditional exams?  Should we avoid final exams and use writing projects, portfolios, or projects instead?  Below is an excerpt from one of his recent blogs:

Exams vs. Projects? UbD is agnostic about many educational practices, be they final exams or projects.  Yet we often get queries such as these two recent ones: What’s the official UbD position on final exams?  Should we be doing more hands-on projects if we’re doing UbD?  The glib answer: No technique is inherently sacred or profane; what matters is how the exams and projects are shaped, timed, and assessed—mindful of course goals.  We tend to fixate on the format instead of worrying about the key question: Regardless of format, what evidence do we need and where can we find it?

He goes on to say there are only three non-negotiables in UbD:
  1. There has to be a clear, constant, and prioritized focus on understanding as an educational goal.  Remember that in UbD, understanding has the specific meaning that students can transfer their learning.  Content mastery is only a means to get to the real priority: Students must be able use the content. 
  2. The assessments must align to the goal.  If the goal is transfer, the assessment must measure the depth of a student’s ability to do so.  Wiggins: “The issue, therefore, is not whether or not there are final exams, but what kinds of questions/tasks make up any exam given and whether the kinds of questions are in balance with the prioritized goals.”
  3. The instructional practices must align with the goals.  The lessons within a given unit must lead students to the level of understanding.  Students must be given the opportunity to actually transfer the knowledge and skills in order to reach the goal.  Furthermore, they must be taught how to transfer.  We cannot wait until the end of the semester before students see a performance task that requires transfer.  Rather, we scaffold them throughout the semester with direct teaching, modeling, group work, and short tasks, so students are prepared to perform well on our final assessments—whatever they might be.


We need to be careful we don’t create a false dichotomy.  We shouldn’t ask whether we should use a traditional final exam or a performance task.  Rather, the question should be this:  Does this assessment actually measure what I want it to measure? 

Again from Wiggins:

There is typically an unseen mismatch between assessment methods (and types of questions) vs. goals.  That’s not an ideological critique but a logical one; it has nothing to do with whether we "like" or "value" content, process, multiple-choice questions, or performance tasks.  What matters is the evidence we seek logically derive from what the goals demand.

Use the form that fits the function.  Once you know exactly what you want the student to know and be able to do in your class and what level of understanding you hope to achieve, you as the teacher, have to answer the question of what is the best way to gather evidence of a student’s understanding.  That may mean using a typical final exam, it may mean using a performance task, or it may mean using a combination of the two. 

The Answer to the Question


In an article entitled “Bye-bye, Blue Books,” Harvard Magazine reports that of the 1,137 undergraduate level courses, 259 (about 23%) scheduled final exams.  Furthermore, of the more than 500 graduate-level courses, only 14 (3%) scheduled final exams.  Please note that this does not mean they completely eradicated the use of traditional final exams.  It does mean, however, that they are looking at other ways, hopefully more useful ways, to accurately assess student learning.

One thing that is certain in the midst of all the uncertainty is that we will continue to work together to find answer to these difficult questions surrounding teaching, learning, and assessment.  The very best answers to tough questions will be discovered together.

Enjoy your Monday off and have a great week, HSE. 

Phil

Friday, August 22, 2014

Slip Slidin' Away

Paul Simon provided a significant part of my life’s soundtrack.  I can still sing along (not always well or in tune) to most Simon and Garfunkel tunes.  In the 70’s my favorite songs from his solo career included “Loves Me like a Rock” and “Me and Julio Down by the School Yard.”  In the 80’s, I wore out the Graceland album, which contains sessions recorded with the South African group, Ladysmith Black Mombazo.  “Diamond on the Soles of Her Shoes” is the best cut from Graceland, but I also love “You Can Call Me Al.” 

Short side trip down memory lane: Click this link to take a peek at a music video that has Chevy Chase lip-syncing and Simon adding backup.  If this doesn’t make you chuckle, I’m not sure how to help you: You Can Call Me Al

I mention Paul Simon because I was asked a question recently that made me think of his song “Kodachrome.”  If you know the song, hum the first line.  (Those of you newer to teaching may have to research what Kadachrome is before finding the lyrics to the song.)  As the song indicates, I remember lots of things about high school—some good and some bad—but the reality is that I don’t remember much of what happened in classes.

What were the assignments my teachers had me do?

Improvised Duet Acting

One assignment I do remember took place in English class.  In my junior year, Mr. Miller assigned Nate Barge and me the task of preparing for an improvised skit.  Our immediate reaction: “It’s improvisation.  How can you prepare to improvise?”  As it turns out, and as Mr. Miller taught us, the answer is “quite a bit.”  Nate was (and probably still is) a funny guy, and between us we eventually performed in front of the class and had a great time doing so.

I tell you this, not so that you ask me to do stand-up comedy, but to make a point about assignments.  I graduated in from Hesston High School in rural Kansas in 1975, and as I look back on all the things I learned in high school, I can remember only a handful of classroom assignments.  I remember friends, teachers, and administrators.  I remember much about sports, plays, and after school events, but I remember very few of the actual assignments we did in class: a few from debate classes, a few from my time on the student newspaper, and a handful of assignments from my art classes. 

I know I had good teachers and I assume I had good assignments, but for the life of me, I can’t remember them.  That may well say more about my memory than the assignments, but I wonder if you have the same experience.  What assignments do you remember?  Put that question on the back-burner and let it percolate while you read the rest of this entry.

Near and Far Transfer

Grant Wiggins says that as teachers, we have students do three basic types of activities in our classroom:
  • Acquisition: building foundational knowledge and skills
  • Make Meaning: providing practice and making connections
  • Transfer: applying the knowledge and skills to new situations and creative problem-solving

Furthermore, he makes the argument that there are two kinds of transfer activities:
  • Near Transfer (Application): These activities and tasks require careful and skilled interpretation, analysis, connection-making, and reasoning in response to a novel or unique challenges.  In his words, “Non-formulaic use of prior knowledge is demanded.”  Students need to test, confirm, or justify the approach, response, or result.
  • Far Transfer (Creative Problem-Solving): These tasks and activities require insightful and in-depth thinking in response to complex and open-ended problems or issues.  The solution path is not at all obvious, so “sustained critical and innovative thinking are needed.”  In other words, Problem- or Inquiry-Based Learning.

Wiggins argues that for long-term retention of skills and knowledge, students must experience transfer of some kind.  Brain research supports Wiggins.  In order for knowledge to “stick,” we need something for it to stick to.  This might be a significant event, a strong emotion, or a personal connection.  In short, not only do transfer activities allow you to assess the depth of a student’s understanding, they ensure retention of the key content. 

A really good question for us to ask is this: Are we spending the right amount of time on each of these types of activities?  Specifically, I wonder about how much time we spend on transfer activities.  Is it enough?  Do we give opportunities for students to participate in near and far transfer activities?

Memories

As you might have guessed, my line of thinking at the beginning of this entry was sparked when I watched Grant Wiggins explaining the importance of performance tasks and authentic assessments.  In passing he asked, “What do you remember of high school assignments?”  It caught my attention. I found that my memories of class assignments were, in the musical words of Paul Simon, “slip slidin’ away.” 

I’ll end where I started.  Think about those assignments that you recall from high school.  Then ask yourself how you can ensure that over time your students will remember the key concepts and skills from your class.  What activities and tasks will plant the seeds that take root and continue to grow throughout a student’s lifetime?

Have a great week, HSE.  Enjoy your students.  Enjoy the learning process, and make some memories that have all the enduring qualities of a Paul Simon recording.

Phil


Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of Silence

--Simon and Garfunkel (1965)

Friday, August 15, 2014

Two Stories and a Moral

My wife and I were talking recently about the concept of Fair but Not Equal as it relates to our own kids and to students in school.  This is an important concept for us, and I hope the following two stories illustrate why.

The first story comes from Lisa.  After our conversation, she shared with me a children’s story, A Tale of Three Ralphs, by Miriam Minkowitz and illustrated by Debra Solomon.  Like many children’s stories, the lesson taught in this tale resonates with both children and adults.  (If you don’t believe in the power of children’s books, read I’ll Love You Forever and Tacky the Penguin.  One will make you cry, the other will make you laugh, and both have incredibly important messages.)

The second story comes from our school, but I’ve changed names and a few details to maintain confidentiality.  I suggest to you that both stories are True—with a capital T.  They present one of life’s important lessons.

A Tale of Three Ralphs

In this story, a mother and father, right before the birth of their son Ralph, decide they want to be the fairest parents in the world.  To be fair, they decide, means they must treat each child exactly the same, which seems like a great idea—until child number two arrives. 


When their second child is born, in order to stay true to their ideals, they know they must name their newest daughter Ralph, since that would only be fair.  And since one Ralph is in diapers, it is only fair to make the older Ralph, who is potty trained, wear diapers, too.  Being fair becomes even more complicated when Ralph number three, another girl, arrives on the scene.  All three Ralphs must be treated exactly alike.  When one gets a cold, they all three get nose medicine.  When the newborn takes a nap, the older siblings are forced to nap in cribs that they have long outgrown.

Illustration by Miriam Minkowitz
When the children are older, they complain that the parents aren’t being fair.  “How can this be?” the parents ask.  “We’ve brought up each of our children exactly alike—with no exceptions.” 

In the end, of course, the parents of Ralph, Ralph, and Ralph come to understand that fair means giving each child what he or she needs in order to be successful, and this means treating their children as individuals with vastly different needs.  In other words, fair is not equal; rather, fairness occurs when individual needs are met.

The parents develop a new Golden Rule for their family: “Since no Ralphs are just like their sisters and brothers, what’s good for one Ralph might be bad for others.”  The author ends with the moral of the story in the form of an obscure reference to the more famous line from Hamlet, “To each Ralph be true.”

Another Child’s Story

Last May, a colleague of yours was walking to the office and came upon a student, Jennifer, sobbing in the empty hallway.  The teacher didn’t know Jennifer but recognized she needed help so escorted her into an empty room in order to allow Jennifer to compose herself.   Eventually, the student asked for a Kleenex, said she was feeling better, and prepared to go to her scheduled class.  Before she went, however, Jennifer shared a little of why she had been crying.

Jennifer and her mother lived alone.  Over the past year, her mother had developed a debilitating illness and had been unable to work.  Money was tight.  Jennifer’s mother had applied for assistance from social services, which was supposed to start soon.  In the meantime, they had received help from friends and family.

To help out with finances, Jennifer had taken a job at a fast food restaurant and was working too many hours.  She struggled to balance work, home life, and school.  In the past months, she had started to miss deadlines, her grades were in a free-fall, and she wasn’t sure she could hold things together much longer.  Her tears that day came after she had turned in one more incomplete assignment.  Jennifer knew the work wasn’t finished when she turned it in, and she knew the classroom rule was that no incomplete assignments would be accepted. 

Jennifer thought and hoped she could still pass the class, but at that moment in time had been so overwhelmed she could do nothing but stand and cry.  By itself, the late assignment would not have caused a breakdown, but it was the proverbial last straw.

Your colleague didn’t blame Jennifer for her tears.  Life is not fair.  It does not give equal gifts and challenges, and at times, a perfectly good response is to sit and cry.

Your colleague, however, did take some steps to intervene on Jennifer’s behalf, and over the course of the next few weeks, Jennifer received help in a variety of ways.  She got back on track in most of her classes and finished the year fairly well.  Her classroom teacher, when he learned of Jennifer’s situation, came to the same conclusion as did the parents of Ralph, Ralph, and Ralph.  He decided that fair is not always equal. He decided that fair meant meeting the needs of this student.  To be fair to Jennifer, he gave her an extension on the assignment and spent a little extra time with her each day in class to support her until the end of the school year.

The Moral of the Story

Last Tuesday, Matt stood in front of the gathered HSE staff and eloquently argued for each one of us to get to know our students well.  When he finished, we responded with a spontaneous round of applause.  It was an important moment, one I know I will remember. 

As educators, we know the positive impact of relationship-building on improving student learning.  The research is crystal clear on this topic, but relationship-building is more than just about learning.

These two stories offer a lesson about fairness.  If we believe being fair is the right thing to do, and if being fair means, “meeting the needs of individual students,” then knowing our students well is more than just a good idea or good pedagogy.  It is a moral imperative. 

In order to be fair to our students, we must know their individual needs.  This applies whether the need is to help a struggling student or to extend the learning of a high achiever.  Being fair might mean knowing when to offer a word of encouragement, when to call home, when to hold firm to a standard of excellence, when to have a difficult conversation, when to share a joke, or when to give a kid a second chance.  These stories suggest that we must know the student well in order to be fair, because treating each person exactly the same, regardless of the individual situation, may be inherently unfair.

Fair but not equal is bit “messy” and leaves a lot of gray area for professional judgment.  Fair but not equal is, however, the way we treat our own children, and the stories of the three Ralphs and the one Jennifer, (who, by the way, still walks our halls this year) remind me of the importance of this concept. 

I hope your week is a good one, a fair one, and one in which you find equal measures of joy and learning.

Phil

“Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you.” 
         --H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Questions Worth Asking


always the more beautiful answer,
who asks a more beautiful question
e e cummings

Student Questions

We have talked often over the last few years about questioning.  Essential questions are a part of the Understanding by Design framework, questions are referenced in various ways on the TEDS rubric, and many of you are experimenting with using questioning sequences or having students generate their own driving questions.

The best questions, the most helpful questions, the most beautiful questions are those that have no one right answer.  Essential questions in the UbD framework are crafted to push students.  They initiate thinking at high levels, require experimentation, lead to debate, and make students wrestle to find possible answers. 

Many students, especially students who know how to play the Game of School, find these questions frustrating.  They are used to having the right answers provided, and they are skilled at memorizing them.  “Just give me the answer, so I can get it right on the test.”  You have undoubtedly heard something similar to this when you present students with an open-ended question.  They want to know what they need to do to get a good grade and are hesitant to participate in the struggle necessary to answer a beautiful question.

The purpose of school, however, is not so students can answer test questions nor is it to provide solid GPAs.  We teach because we want students to learn, we want students to think, we want students to be prepared for life in a world that seldom has just one right answer.

Our Questions

Teachers and administrators have responsibilities and demands today that go well beyond what was required when I walked in to teach my first class in 1979.  We are working on Understanding by Design, Problem-Based and Inquiry-Based Learning, creating authentic assessments, using new and ever-changing technology, and designing lessons that engage students in their own learning.  These challenges don’t have one right solution, and they may create a yearning for something easier.  Good teaching has never been defined as opening the textbook and working through it from page one to the end of the last chapter, but that would make life simpler—not better, just simpler. 

Many times we are tempted to say, just like the students, “Give me the answer, so I can get it right on the test.”  Like it or not, we live in the same world as our students, and this world seldom has just one right answer to most of life’s questions.  This truth is both wonderful and disturbing.  We know that we must challenge students and keep them thinking, but this requires from us equally difficult thinking about our lesson designs. 

School Improvement Plan

We are putting the final touches on this year’s School Improvement Plan.  It has a little different look from previous versions and will focus our most significant initiatives in several ways.  When you look closely at the new SIP, you will find that it contains nothing brand new.  It continues the journey we have been on, but it pushes us to answer some beautiful questions.  For example:

·         What does excellence look like at Hamilton Southeastern High School?  For students?  For us?
·         How do we improve the odds of success for students who face significant obstacles?
·         What does it mean to Bleed Blue at HSHS?  Can we get more students, parents, and staff members to do so?
·         What will the future have in store for our students after graduation, and how can we prepare them for this uncertain future?

I propose that these are some of the essential questions we are asking and will continue to ask.  They don’t have one right answer.  Finding answers, even partial answers, will take time, energy, and collaboration.  It will be hard and at times frustrating work, but it will also be time well spent, both for our students and for ourselves as professionals.

We do have our work cut out for us, but it is work that makes a difference.  After all is said and done, isn’t that the reason we became educators? 

Now that is a beautiful question with the potential for a beautiful answer.

Welcome back, HSE!  I hope your year is excellent.


Phil