Stuck in the Past

My school has recently created a new teaching space. We were short of classrooms, and the idea was hatched to enclose an open undercroft area and turn it into a classroom. It was a great idea, and a really good lateral thinking solution. When I first saw the new room, the thing that I loved immediately about it was that the whole back wall was entirely made of glass doors, effectively giving an open view of the classroom to the outside and the outside in. Although it didn’t open up onto some beautiful view, it did mean that the people walking past the room were able to see in, making the activity in that room far more transparent, if you’ll excuse the pun.

On closer inspection, I was amazed that the room – a new classroom created in early 2007 – had not been wired for data points, had not been fitted with wifi, had not had a provision for an interactive whiteboard or a ceiling mounted data projector. The furniture that had been ordered for the room consisted of single desks and chairs, arranged in rows, just like every other classroom. In short, there was almost no thought given to this space as a 21st century learning space. This was a classroom that was following the exact same paradigm of classroom “design” that has been around for the last hundred years.

I think what I found the most depressing about this is the blind way in which we accept that classrooms are the way they are because that’s the way they’ve always been. The world has changed incredibly in the last decade, and especially in the last 5 years. The world has become flattened, as we keep hearing. Communication, collaboration, working in teams, kids as digital natives, outsourcing, sharing ideas… these are all part of the new information landscape, but we still design classrooms using an industrial age model of learning – children sitting in rows, teacher at the front, with no integrated infrastructure for supporting a connection to the outside world of people and ideas.

I’m sure we will address this issue.  I’m sure we will eventually get the room cabled, add some wifi, maybe an IWB, and whatever else we need.  Almost certainly, it will cost more to do it afterwards than it would have cost to do it while the room was under construction.  But the point is that we had a chance to really think about what a classroom space could be and we blew it.  The tragedy of this is not that the room is less than it could have been… the tragedy is that our thinking about education and our receptiveness to creating the sort of environment we want for our kids to learn in was so much less than it could have been.  We have not internalised what it means to be a 21st century school.  We still think like a 1950s school, and even though we might eventually throw lots of technology at the problem, our basic thinking will always let our 21st century students down unless we change it.

And that beautiful glass wall at the back of the room, the only redeeming feature of the space?  It was covered in matte finish coating, blocking the transparency of the glass and visually acting as a normal solid wall.  Yes, a real lack of transparency.

Talent Night?

Yes, the school I teach at has a talent night each semester, and somehow or other a group of teachers at school put a little group together to play a couple of songs.  While I can’t truly claim to have any great musical talent, I can wield a bass guitar well enough to hold the rhythm section together, especially with a great drummer like Charlie.  The rest of the band was Rob, Darrell, Alanna and Kevin, all wonderfully dedicated and talented teachers who don’t mind getting up and showing their wild side in front of the kids.  The kids seem to really enjoy seeing their teachers get up and “give it a go”, and it’s that spirit that make schools such wonderfully human  places…

So for anyone brave enough to take a peek, here is a YouTube video of two songs we performed on the night… the sound quality isn’t great and the camera work is a bit shaky, but it just goes to show what can be done when a kid in the crowd just happens to capture something like this on his cellphone, and then it’s up on YouTube within a few hours.

It was, I must admit, a lot of fun.  🙂

He's doing well, thanks.

Ah, parent-teacher night. That wonderful night that comes around every so often where you get to meet all the parents of all the kids you really don’t need to see. You know, the kid who’s getting straight As, has an 85+ average, always does their homework, works well and contributes to everything, and their parents always turn up to the interview asking “So, how’s he doing?”

Of course the kids who are nearly failing the course, the ones with 15 absent days and who never handed in that last assessment task… how come the parents of those kids never seem to turn up? If I was a cynic I’d think there might be some sort of correlation between the two.

I’m sitting here at parent-teacher night right now. Alone. Next appointment not for another 25 minutes. I mean, I’m not a Math or English teacher. Fortunately I’m getting a wifi signal, so I thought I’d drop a quick blog post on here…

But what jumped out at me the most during the report writing process this week was the utter futility of the report card comments. The comment bank we had to work from was, well, less than stellar. Finding comments that were actually useful was really difficult and mostly the report comments that went out were so generic as to be almost useless. I found it very frustrating.

At the end of the day the only thing the kids (and their parents) were interested in was the grade – that percentage number. And I can’t seem to get my head around the significance of a number that really is not measured against any clearly defined criteria in any meaningful and consistent way. To set tests and assessment tasks that provides a score where anything below 50% is a failing mark just seems fairly silly to me. I could write a test that everyone could pass or I could write a test that nearly no one could pass. How does this vague and arbitrary 50% equate to a “pass”? How does my test in my school compare to another teacher giving a “similar” test in another school in the province? Or how does it compare to a score from a totally different subject. And yet the numbers that get generated from these tests and assessments are treated as SO critical, often making or breaking the student’s progress through the school system. Intuitively, the good kids will end up passing, and the slackers will probably end up failing, (whatever that really means) so perhaps common sense eventually prevails. But these grade numbers are taken so seriously! They provide a platform for progress through the system and on to university, and yet to me they just seem so arbitrary.

I heard a story the other day about a kid – a “good kid” – who had n 85+% grade and realised that because of the way the scores were averaged, and because he only needed 50% to “pass”, he could still pass the course without even sitting the final exam. So he turned up, wrote his name on the paper, submitted it and walked out. Did he pass the course? Yes. Do I think he achieved his potential? No way, not even close. Was the pass/fail system at least partially responsible for condoning this attitude? Unfortunately, yes.