Posts Tagged ‘learning’

In Lieu of Homework

Friday, July 1st, 2011

One of the best things about summer, of course, is the absence of homework and monthly book reports. I used to get those “summer slide” workbooks, but by freeing ourselves of all of the recommendations, I’m finding the girls are actually learning this summer. All by themselves.

When my oldest daughter was making pancakes, she had to figure out how to measure cups and teaspoons without having those actual sizes available to her (for example, combining 1/4 and 1/2 cup of flour to get 3/4 cup). She is required to read 3 books over the summer break, but she is responsible for figuring out how much to read each day to accomplish the goal. She is also becoming more interested in current events now that I can watch the news every day because the girls aren’t buried in their homework.

My younger daughter has been reading for pleasure, finishing her Math workbook from 5th grade for her own amusement, and regularly writing in her journal.  She also makes up her own Math games. I implemented a new “earn an allowance” policy, and she figured out how much she could make for the summer if she did the highest amount possible, the minimum amount possible, and an average of the two.

I read recently in the New Yorker one writer’s belief that children’s imagination is to utilize language from which they don’t have personal experience. Summer allows them to create their own experiences when left to their own imagination.

Los Angeles Unified School District recently announced a new homework policy that limits homework effect on final grades to 10%. It recognizes that not all students have a quiet place and time every night to complete their homework. That’s not to say, that a student won’t be affected if they don’t complete their homework, but the policy forces homework to be balanced against other factors that should go in grading; quality of work, class participation, etc.

Homework is one of those areas where I think some teachers/schools rely too heavily on parental involvement. It assumes that someone is available to help from after-school to bedtime. It assumes that we have no other children that might also need our help. It assumes that we understand the assignment given and can offer a teacher’s skill level of assistance. It assumes that we understand the terminology the teacher used, even if the teaching methodologies have changed greatly since we were in school. It even assumes that the type of homework given will actually strengthen the learning process when helping me reduce a recipe might offer a greater comprehension of fractions.

During the summer is when I get to really assess what my children have actually learned. I can see it in the texts they send (I reply with any corrections in spelling), I can hear it in what they say and whether or not their vocabulary is accurate, and I even benefit from it when they help me google directions or other info.

Just like training can’t replace on the job experience, homework can’t replace the act of obtaining knowledge. It can help…but probably by only about 10%.

April McCaffery is the single mother to two daughters, going into 6th & 9th grade.

To Be And Not To Be

Friday, June 17th, 2011

One of my favorite bloggers, a former high school teacher, recently wrote about how he would tell his students to take their schoolwork seriously “in case you don’t end up on MTV…” That maybe it wasn’t popular to hear, but that he still felt they needed to hear it.

I’m not just a parent of a teenager with artistic aspirations, I was a teenager with artistic aspirations and I never saw school versus artistic success as mutually exclusive.

It certainly helped that I went to a high school for the arts, where our academic teachers used the arts to help pull us in. They showed us how the current events of an artist’s time was reflected in their work.  It works in almost any academic study: Literature, History, Government, even how Math influences our music.

Almost all of us were motivated to go to college.  We never looked at college as a fall-back position, but as the next step to make connections and study to make our dreams come true.

As we’ve reunited on Facebook, very few of us actually make our living in the arts, but we agree that the foundation our high school experience gave us helped us to succeed in whatever we ended up doing: we learned discipline, we created goals for ourselves, and we held ourselves responsible for our own destinies, even when that meant picking ourselves up after a failure (or two).

When my daughter first showed signs of wanting to follow in my artistic footsteps, I’ll be honest: it scared me witless. I know the amount of heartbreak involved, and as a mother, of course I didn’t want to see her go through that rejection. But as I learned to breathe through it, to stop myself from saying things that might be construed as not believing in her, I remembered that there’s a long way to go and that pursuing goals and dreams is certainly better than the alternative.

Sure enough, she has blossomed through striving for these dreams.  She knows she needs to maintain good grades in order to do everything else she wants to do outside of school, and that motivates her to get her homework done (without any hovering from me). She’s had to learn to take direction not just from all her teachers, but all of her choreographers, and all of her art teachers, and many of them tell me how phenomenal she is. And yes, she’s had to learn to accept their criticisms,  and some rejection along the way, too. She’s already stronger than me because those rejections don’t break her at all; rather, she just keeps going and trying harder for next time.

I still don’t know what her future holds. College frightens me, too, because I can’t afford it and I don’t fancy the idea of her having to start life off tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt. Still, I don’t try to break that dream, either. We’ll just figure that out if/when it’s time.

I just love seeing her grow into this self-confident, smart, happy young lady. And I know I have her dreams to thank for that.

April McCaffery is a single mother to two daughters, finishing 5th and 8th grade.

What My Children Really Need to Know

Wednesday, March 9th, 2011

I find myself pulled in so many directions when trying to most effectively play my part as an involved parent. Should I spend my evenings as the enforcer, standing over them to get their homework done? But then, there are the Mean Girls issues that are distracting my daughters; by talking about those, I can help them clear their heads. And then there’s getting dinner on the table, trying to find time to enjoy a board game together, ensuring they spend quality time with their extended family. It’s overwhelming to think how much I have to do in our limited time together.

Recently, I had the opportunity to listen to a Superintendent speak about the many challenges facing public education. And just when I thought my head would explode, I had an “a-ha” moment as he boiled down the point of education to three goals: teaching our children how to find and use resources, effective communication skills, and problem-solving skills.

As I thought about those three things, I realized how they were truly the answer to nearly every situation.

Resources. I did not go to college straight out of high school. When I told one of my first bosses how  sometimes I felt inadequate about that, he told me something that stuck with me. He said what he truly learned from college was how to find the information he needs. None of us know everything, but apparently, it really is a skill to know how to learn what we need to know. It’s a skill I use almost every day; not just in my job, but as a mother, as a human. And finding the information has gotten so much easier, thanks to the Internet. Of course, we need to know how to critically research. Once my daughters understand how to distinguish the credible sites, there will be almost nothing they can’t learn.

Communication. Sure, we could bemoan that kids only know how 2 spk in txt, or narrow their thoughts to 140 characters, but they have a (more…)

Praise: The Secret Ingredient

Thursday, January 6th, 2011

Google it. Go ahead. 100 Ways to Praise a Child. It’s out there. There might even be a book. It probably comes in several forms, and it probably isn’t attributable to any single author. It’s a list of positive things to say to children. On it, you may find phrases such as “you’re doing well,” or “I like the way you listen.” Good stuff.

In my Leadership class, we do something at the beginning of each meeting called acknowledgement time. The kids, in front of the whole group, have a chance to acknowledge (thank, praise, etc.) another member (or members) of the group for something they’ve said, done, etc. It sometimes goes on for quite a while, and often we have the kids come to the front of the group to say their acknowledgements. This is part of our philosophy of having kids break out of their “comfort zones.”

It’s probably obvious why we do this, but it may be deeper than you think. When I first introduce the concept at the beginning of each year, I ask the students how often they hear praise from their parents, friends and teachers. The consensus is that it’s not often, and that (particularly from adults) all they often hear is the “bad” stuff: such as they didn’t do a good job, they “messed up,” they need to improve in  ____ area.

I think that this happens all too much in life. We adults  also only hear negative comments from peers and (especially) supervisors. What we do in our leadership program is “build-in” positive. Here’s the genesis of it:

In the 1980s there was a popular African-American actor named Mr. T. He is most famous for his role on the TV show, The A Team. I saw him interviewed once. He was asked why he didn’t use his real name, Laurence Tureaud. He replied that when he was growing up, the amount of racism he experienced and witnessed gave him an idea: have the stage name “Mr. T” and people will have no choice but to address him in a complimentary way (i.e. the “Mr.” part). He said that most African-Americans were addresed in derogatory ways.

This gave me an idea: build into my program a mechanism where positive talk is mandatory. Of course, we can’t force the kids to speak up, but we prod them and challenge them to step out of their comfort zones, and it is contageous! We’ve had acknowledgement sessions that go on for what seems like an eternity.

Certainly, I to tell my leadership students that as leaders, they will one day  have to criticize or be negative with others, but I encourage them to have a 2 to 1 ratio of positive to negative; in other words, for each criticism, there should also be two elements of praise. Here’ s an example I employ in the classroom: “Your homework hasn’t been very good–in fact, you’re close to a D in the class. I’ve seen you turn in fantastic work before, so I know you can do it. I love the way you participate orally, so bringing that grade up should be easy for you.”

On the wall of my classroom. It's an attention getter!

From what I’ve seen, this works wonders. We teachers are leaders, or bosses. Our students are (in a way) our employees. But beyond that, we’re all humans, and if all we hear is negativity and criticism, our self-esteem will take a hit. Praise, I believe, is the secret ingredient in the recipe of success…anywhere.

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Mr. Franklin is a teacher for the Los Angeles Unified School District. He is an eleven year veteran and has won District and County Teacher of the Year awards.

Education is Personal

Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

“And what do you do for a living, Ainslie?”

“I’m a teacher.”

It happens every time.  Every time I tell a new acquaintance that I am a teacher, I see a flash in front of the other person’s mind. It is like that one word has taken them back to a long forgotten episode from school days past.

“Oh!”  they say, then go on to tell me one of three things:

  1. Teaching is such a noble profession.
  2. Complain about the fact that teachers are still asking for more money.
  3. Discuss their favorite / worst / strangest teacher (or child’s teacher).

The human element is what we remember

Education is so personal.  Every one of us has experienced education from a student’s perspective, and many are now seeing it from the parent’s point of view.  And if you are like me, you also see it from the teacher side, as well.

What I remember most from when I was student wass not how I was taught algebra, or what approach was used to teach me spelling.  I remember how excited I was to get my first A+.  I remember the nervousness of my first day of high school.  I remember the tears, the cuddles and tantrums.

When I think back to my first couple of years of teaching the same feelings come flooding back.  I don’t remember what I taught.  But I do remember how nervous I was that first day of teaching.  I remember standing with my students at a funeral for a mother of a student I taught.  I remember the tantrums and tears.  I remember the kids!

The human element is what we remember because education is created by people, for people–using every emotion imaginable.

Image from:  kevindooley

Education is delivered by people for people.

Education is deeply personal as it is delivered by another person.  And each of us have our own irks and quirks when delivering content.  Teachers must remember that their personalities and feelings toward certain subject areas have a massive impact on their students.  Students are impressionable and their learning will be hindered if we let our feelings towards certain subject areas affect our teaching.

Learning is transmitted by stories, connections and engagement and is affected by feelings.

Learning doesn’t occur by reading a text book and reciting answers over and over in our heads.  Learning occurs when people, both students and teachers, work together.  Education is successful when it made personal, when students are engaged in learning and can connect that new information to previous learning.  And for each child that will be deeply individual.  As teachers, we need to use this to our advantage.

The reasons why I love writing for Parentella and reading the other articles is that the personal experiences are embraced and enjoyed.  This site helps promote what is great about education–teachers and parents working together and building on each other’s experiences and opinions to create a better education for the next generation.

Education is personal and that makes all the difference.