Hey former student,

I just wanted to say that it was great seeing you today. You’ve grown so big. Your shoulders are bigger, and you’re a little reminiscent of your mom. Your vocabulary’s grown a lot, and I already have a sense of how you’ll sound when you become a young lady. I always knew you had it in you. I’m not surprised that you ran and screamed my name in the middle of Harlem just to say to me since you’ve always liked me as a teacher, but I’m surprised to have even seen you since I had just thought about you and the rest of the students in my very first class at our school.

With all that’s happened to me recently, from the visit to the ER for my heart problem to my cousin’s death, I reminisced about some of the last few events over the past week. In particular, I started to focus on the 8th graders vs. Staff basketball game (we won), and the recent prom. Then I remember how you were the prom queen, and how so many of my kids were there, so well dressed and so impressive.

Then, I reminisced back to when you were 7th graders, my first homeroom. You were the only class who’s ever thrown me a birthday party, and a surprise one at that. Your class is the only class I felt like getting gifts for as a whole. Your class is the only class I cried for because I was so proud of you all. I could talk to all of you about anything, especially the news, and many of you appreciated those words of wisdom. I developed great relationships with almost all of the parents in your class, and almost felt like that second father, or even the father that some of your classmates never had. I could be everything in front of you all, and still feel like what I said would resonate in your minds.

Even during our rough spots, I never felt anything short of love from the majority of you. Now, it seems that the students I teach have become less appreciative of the teachers who care for them. At least on the surface. In two years, after I’ve been their math teacher for 3 years, I wonder if they’ll make me as proud as you have. I wonder if, when I go to their proms, I’ll have secret moments when I wish I was still sitting next to you reminding you to multiply the variable with all the inside terms, reminding you why you can’t calculate the slope the way you did, or pumping my fist in excitement over you knowing that there is a relationship between multiplying two variables with each other and finding the area of a square.

And seeing you today kinda makes me miss that feeling of pride. I know I still see some of you, strolling by 52 with parents or not-that-significant others. Sometimes, I even get to catch you on my Teacher MySpace, seeing you throw up deuces like you’re that cool. Even if most of you don’t end up remembering me decades from now, I’m still grateful to have had the opportunity to not only teach you, but hopefully inspiring you to become better people and not just students. You all weren’t always the perfect class, but I still miss you all …

mr. v

Damian tagged me, and I must oblige. After all, I tagged almost everyone and their mother yesterday trying to get you all to help me with my most involved effort yet. Damian asked me which of my previous (and worst) jobs helped me prepare for the job I have currently (please tell me you didn’t miss that boat). Let me preface this by saying that I’ve never had a bad job because each job I’ve ever taken either advanced my transparent agenda or helped me put food on the table or paid for college expenditures. Now that that’s out of the way …

I have to say, after working as a camp counselor, concession stand worker at a big movie theatre, student security on campus, and database work at an educational research firm, none quite prepared me for my job or helped me get into the mentality of working with kids quite like my position as the Education Chair of La LUCHA at Syracuse U.

OK, so that wasn’t the worst job, nor was it something I was “hired” to do, but voted in. Of course, some of the readers who already knew me from previous incarnations wouldn’t consider it a job either as I never got paid monetarily. OK, fair enough, but here’s why I was more than prepared for my work with children after helping to lead that organization:

1. I had to learn quite quickly to not take things too personally. I had a big habit of doing it because, really, I put my whole person into that organization. Unfortunately, some people don’t view it the same way nor do they see my vision for the org. It prospered, but not like I’d hoped.

2. Making real change happen takes a lot of personal sacrifice. On the one hand, I had a drive very few matched when it came to that org, and when I wanted a real change to happen, I worked as hard as possible to make that change happen, sacrificing a whole lot of time I could have spent doing a whole lot of nothing.

3. I must make personal time. On the other hand, I also had to take some time for myself, and often, I didn’t know when to step back and do that.

4. Constant feedback and reflection are a vital part of becoming the best. At first, I didn’t take constructive criticism or any other type for that matter too well, because I thought the organization at the time needed a vast change and I was the only one who could bring it. Then, I was asked to get humble. And quick. I reflected on where that criticism came from and what much of that negativity would mean for the legacy I was trying to leave behind. But it wasn’t about me. It was about the org. Once I came to that epiphany, I started to work quietly, adjusting my game plan for the great good.

5. Sometimes, the best reaction is to let the chips fall where they may. There’d be days when certain people would bring a lot of negativity in my direction, trying to force me to react or fire back in a way that’s “unbecoming” of a leader. Most of it was immature, and they tried to intimidate me to step down. I wouldn’t. Rather than respond, I let everything pass, because I knew there’d be a moment when karma would inevitably take care of everything, which sure enough, it did.

6. Dealing with administration takes time, patience, and professionalism. No matter how unprofessional the professionals are, and no matter how “in the right” you are, there’s a time and place for every protest, question, or even comment. Professionalism will more often than not help your case.

7. Never let a moment in which you can teach someone go to waste. Never.

jose, who will not lose …

I keep telling some of these “educators” that they can’t tell me nothin’.

John Holland recently talked about the differences between urban and suburban education as it concerns one’s demeanor. In many educators’ eyes, they think just because they have a dream that they can go into any school and magically transform children into shiny, happy people. They have this vision that somehow their idealism can save Black and Latino children from their desperate conditions and just having a little exposure to a new form of teacher will undoubtedly make them want to do better for themselves and improve their communities and become the shining beacon for their whole generations.

It doesn’t quite work out that way. Urban education requires a little more discipline. Where other children may come ready to learn and focused, many of the children I teach neither have parents who value education that much nor have people in the family who’ve gone beyond high school (or even middle school). Just the other day, we had a child who was going to the Dominican Republic at the start of Memorial Day Weekend … and continued in for two weeks! There’s no reinforcement of classroom rituals and routines at home with many of my students.

There’s also a barrier that exists that limits the types of things teachers can do (some teachers in smaller towns visit their students’ homes. WOW!). Most of all, though, kids are not just kids: every student is a product of their environment and they have different internal metrics for whether you measure up for what their teacher looks like.

In other words, if you don’t cut it, you’re getting cut, plain and simple. It doesn’t mean you need to scream at them all the time, or have militaristic tendencies (some prefer that), but it means you have to demand the respect first and foremost before you can even shed some of that tough exterior. I can personally tell you that I’ve seen the softer approach tried by teachers and they’re constantly berated, shown disrespect, and have little to no learning happening in those classrooms. Once I get them the next year, or another teacher whose got a solid backbone, they learn how to learn.

See, if you really care about the students in your classroom, you’re not just teaching them curriculum; you’re teaching them about life, and how there’s a need for balance. Yes, that “look” is often amorphous, but the energy behind it is unmistakable. The lack of equilibrium in their lives can only be matched by someone willing to see them for who they are, and working from there. Thus, I can usually quell any questions I might have about the way I handle my class with a clear conscience.

Here’s hoping that when I continue to find my way through this labyrinth of education, I won’t lose touch of what it really means to be in a classroom.

jose, who wonders how people can rush to judgment through a teacher’s first post, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re coming from on high …

p.s. - I’ll discuss the other side later on, but comments are open. Go on.

After that passionate imaginary letter I wrote to one of my students on Tuesday, a few questions came up about how I approached the situation.

Did your administration support you through this decision?

In a word, yes. Though I knew I was right and I thought about my decision clearly, I still consulted with fellow teachers and administration, and I got the right response. I didn’t have to ask my principal because the assistant principal was enough. I know a lot of my fellow bloggers find themselves in more dire straits, but I also notice a lot of principals who blog that say I’m somehow stifling the young man’s creativity and individuality. The next three questions should address that.

By not letting him go to the trip, aren’t you promoting a perpetual cycle of failure for him?

In some ways I understand the question, but in realistic terms, no. I believe I was rather clear about the chances I’ve given him, and if he can’t respect that, then what happens when we’re actually outside and I’m responsible for his well-being and safety on the subway or anywhere else? Furthermore, what kind of message does that send to the kids who do behave well and make a decent effort to do well socially and academically? I have students who once messed up but improved significantly in all the major areas and they’re getting a chance to go on trips, so for this student, that’s not the case. He hasn’t been an exemplary student, and there have to be consequences.

Don’t you think you’re pushing your kid so hard to fit a mold that you’ll squash his “creativity and independent spirit”?

Again, a somewhat valid question, but one that I’m more than willing to squash. (I’m not sure where either of these qualities comes into the argument of whether or not the student deserves a trip or not, but whatever.) If we think of the most creative and independent spirits of our time, I can make a pretty safe assumption that, in order for them to break the rules, they must learn and master them. Every rapper had a favorite rap song they knew every word to, and wrapped their head around that favorite style until they found their own niche. Same goes for artists, and even teachers. This student needs to learn the rules and understand why we make those rules before he goes off and becomes an independent high school student and eventually college. That’s the difference between someone who’s self-reliant and one who’s a recluse.

Also note that I consider myself rather creative and more often than not allow for creativity and independence in my classroom, but in a constructive and positive manner. We also need to find ways to hone that. The most talented athletes may not always be the most successful, but the most successful athletes have an excellent mix of talent and discipline. Then again, you’d have to have read my blog for more than one post, or actually read the whole post to see that.

Isn’t using a trip or any “escape from school” demeaning the purpose of school itself?

Let’s flip that question on its head then: do you think we should have trips at all then? And if so, then are you taking everyone? Again, just from yesterday’s experience with my students, I have a pretty good idea of what the answers to those questions are. I know how trips often help develop the civil skills of my students, and helps me gauge how much they’ve grown socially as well as academically. When, for instance, I can take them to the park and they can interact with their teachers and fellow students without the confines of the school building, it changes things a little bit. Unless you a) find yourself really uncomfortable with the group of students who you’re trying to take out, 2) your group of students don’t merit getting a trip, especially one on your own dime or 3) are a bit of a hermit / curmudgeon, then I can’t see anyone trying to discredit teachers for taking their students on a class trip.

Then again, I think my reasoning was pretty clear, and for people who insist on playing the devil’s advocate on these questions have to come correct. I’m not asking for the children to be perfect, but here’s the order:

1. He cut class.
2. He begs for trip.
3. I say, “If you cut class again, you don’t get this privilege.”
4. He cuts class again.
5. I decline his invitation.

Done. Respond as you please.

jose, who has a few more trips to go on …

Today was one of those days in which I had my homeroom for the entire day. That happens every 2 months or so, when they have a state-provided exam and the homeroom teacher has to administer said exam, order them alphabetically, and still have the same students for a double period of class right after lunch. It’s a daunting task to have the same group of students for 5 periods, but it’s particularly trying when it’s my homeroom, a class that’s gotten a bit of a reputation for being the worst-behaved class on the floor. It’s not just one or two headcases: at this point and time, every teacher who has them only wants literally 1/2 the class to go on trips based on academics and / or behavior.

I’ve had a bit of difficulty with them lately as well. I understand; the state exams are over, and it’s getting a little late in the year. Every relationship goes through a period where you wonder what the hell you’re doing in it to begin with. Nonetheless, many of the students have gotten particularly spiteful as of late, and in turn, I’ve had to show them I’m from the hood. (Secretly, I wonder why we act in our rather callous and dogmatic behaviors as urban teachers, but in more affluent settings, there’s less need for that, but really I know the answer. More to come at some point.) I have yet to curse at them, but I’ve let them know more often than not that I’m playing with them, and it’s taken a bit of a roll on my sanity.

For many of the children, calling houses doesn’t work, because with some of the students, their parents are either never home or the parents only pay you lip service. I’m not saying all, but some. Yet, that seems to be the 50% of my class I’m having a hard time with. So I went to my defaults: progress reports, interviews, and summer school status alerts. Theoretically, and ideally, I shouldn’t be lording that over their heads, but for a moment, it really worked for them.

Then, it all went to crap. Finally, today really, I decided that I’d get even more direct and concurrently make them more responsible for every action they do.

1. I now go on elongated rants and make a big deal out of every little thing they do that’s out of line. It’s similar to the Broken Windows Theory: if even the smallest thing goes awry in the classroom, then it opens the floodgates for bigger things. My lack of meticulousness has cost me before.

2. I changed their seats, and paid little mind to their interpersonal history. I tried sitting them with their enemies and they ended up arguing more often than not. I tried sitting them with their friends and they talked more than at any other point in my class. Finally, I sat them at random, paying attention more to behaviors and remedying them than just trying to squash a grape with a Louisville Slugger.

3. I pulled out the grade book from the very beginning, and had it in front of me the whole time. Many of us would agree that a student’s work behavior more than other aspects of their academics will eventually determine how successful they are as students. Thus, if I grade them on their preparedness, their participation in the conversation, and their willingness to try and ask questions, all while not disrupting other people’s learning, then I’m training them to become better students in any and every classroom.

4. I’ve handed things back to my kids more promptly. Before, I’d take too much time to give my kids back their assignments and exams. Now, I’ve trained myself to take no more than 2-3 school days to grade their work. I also already grade them during class, as aforementioned. That gives a clear picture of their academic success more readily.

5. If after I called out “5 … 3 … 1″ I still don’t get quiet, I make the offending party stand up. Not all the offending parties, just a central one. That worked twice today, and it got their attention really quickly. I then had the person sit back down and told the parties involved what the proper procedure was for class.

I don’t know what it was about this set of rules I added to my repertoire, but it really made me feel that I could teach for the long haul. Sorta like Bruce Leroy in The Last Dragon, I kept getting submerged in water, but I just got The Glow. Even one of the girls who actually got really nasty with me said, “Mr. V, this was definitely a good change.” After the seat change, there was no attitude from her at all.

With only 26 days left in the NYC schedule, it’s imperative that we keep our sanity. What are you doing in these last few days to tighten the ship before it heads to shore? For the non-educators, what did you think of the disciplining aspect of some of your teachers? (There’ll be a follow-up post to this.)

jose, whose looking forward to all the trips he has planned …

Before I continue, a quick apology / shoutout to The Science Goddess at What It’s Like on the Inside. I never shouted you out for hosting / posting a great Ed Carnival, and I should have. Whoops.

Today, I began reading my Derek Jeter-covered Men’s Health, and in it, they start, as usual, with a letter from the editor Dave Zinczenko about leadership, and the intangibles, a set of characteristics that have defined Derek’s whole career. Yet, it takes decades to prepare and foster a baseball player of his caliber into the man he is today. Sure, most of the credit goes to his own determination and will-power, yet every baseball fan, Yankee fan or not, recognizes that his evolution into future first-ballot Hall of Famer and legend started from really young, and that talent was developed over time, and with a considerable amount of practice.

If we give it thought, his real career started at the little league level, developing the necessary skills and mannerisms that would eventually give him successful options in the future. His stats and awards weren’t important, though I’m sure he received a few. His coaches most likely saw promise in the little things that he did, and those elements separated him from the others. Did he always show up on time? How did he handle defeats? Was he early to practice? Does he contribute positive to his environment? Is he a valuable member of the team or only out for himself?

Maybe we personally can’t answer those questions, but we know that whenever he fell out of line, his coaches reminded him, and his parents made sure he followed through with his passion. The answers to some of the aforementioned questions made Jeter into the leader we see him as today. He wasn’t nor is he perfect. At times, he can be a little vindictive, and he’s sometimes called out teammates in the media when he probably shouldn’t have. However, we still have the deepest respect for him as the captain of arguably the most legendary team in America.

The assumed role of educators from Little League and high school to Double and Triple-A is undoubtedly to make sure is to make sure their players realize their potential on and even off the field. On the field, the managers have the most direct impact on whether the player will succeed baseball-wise. Yes, we’ve seen countless examples of athletes whose extracurricular activities often hinder their progress, some ending in tragic endings. Yet, we also see examples of players who, when moved from one team to the next, do better in the latter team or vice versa, and that has lots to do with the managers they’ve worked with.

It gets even more complex if we look deeper into the managerial styles of these students. Are they in-your-face old school style like Lou Pinella, or laid back and patient like Joe Torre? Are they blunt and fiery like Ozzie Guillen or the men of men like Terry Francona? Do they live in the tape room or just have a knack for managing? We also understand the roles of a Brian Cashman or a Billy Beane in making sure the right staff comes together, but we can also see how the mere presence of a manager in the dugout can completely revamp the way the team sits in there. Do they look downtrodden or are they in intense anticipation?

And maybe our students don’t always turn out to be a Derek, much the way some of us aren’t Tony LaRussa, but every manager has the potential to help a player become a strong leader, so even if his or her baseball career fizzles out, the student still remembers and reuses the same skills of patience, hard work, perfect practice, and determination in the other fields they wish to play in. Any role player, utility player, journeyman, or All-Star recognizes these essentials, but it’s the manager pushing the buttons, making sure they remember these pillars, and even through the harshest of times, getting his players ready for the postseason …

jose, who wants to be the greatest manager for his team …

p.s. - I recognize that professional baseball managers make a boatload more money than we do, but this is purely about the analogy.

p.p.s. - For the record, yesterday was the first day I eclipsed over 300 hits, so shout-outs to Taylor for that nod you gave to my post yesterday about the Holocaust and Maafa :-).

This week, I’ve taken Greg Tang’s advice from the NCTM Conference and started working with the kids on different bases. And by different bases, I mean different ways of looking at the number systems we use. One of the biggest reasons why kids don’t get math in general is because the numbers themselves don’t make sense to them. For example, a child who looks at 1,234 can tell me that it’s more than 1000, but when it comes to dividing, they can’t tell me how many 100s or even why the 3 isn’t just a 3 but a 30. Using Greg Tang’s advice then (to work in different number systems and hope they can develop rules that are applicable to the base 10 number system that they’re already familiar with).

At first, the whole idea of trying binary and tertiary number systems was ludicrous. Why would I want to teach them something about these number systems when they hardly get their own? Fair enough. Once I flipped it on them and told them it was a game, and the rules were that you could only use the digits lower than the base number, they ate it up. A hook. So for base two, they said,

0, 1, 2, … 10, 11, 12 … 20, … 100, 101, 110, 111, 1000 … (eventually they got it right)

So we finally crossed that counting barrier. Now that we were actually in the shore of where I wanted to get them, I tried seeing if they could do it for base 3. Same results.

0, 1, 2, 10, 11, 12, 20, 21, 22, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 112, 120 … (they were much better at this one after seeing that last one)

Then I asked them to help me make some rules, and all three classes basically saw the same patterns (after some good questions on my part, honestly):

1. We start with the number 0.

2. We work with all the digits less than the base number.

3. Once we get to the base number in that row, we use the next row, and start from 0 again in that first row.

So far so good. Today, we tried to turn numbers in base 2 to their corresponding number in base 10. Again, I give them a oversimplified version of the place value system we already established and maybe they’ll come to some conclusions about how to arrive at our conversions. I made little boxes around the number and put the number representing the place value over it (not the name, but the actual number) just to make it easier for them to see.

Example:

110 in base 2 equals 6 in base 10. Why? Because 1 is in the 4s place, the next 1 is in the 2s place, and 0 is in the 1’s place, so we have 1 4, 1 2, and 0 1s i.e. we have a total of 6.

Then one of my kids yells out,

“So what you’re saying is that we multiply the place value by what’s in the box?”

SUCCESS! Hopefully he saw the sign. (har har har). Yes, I’m a math teacher. I’m allowed a corny joke here and there.

jose, who loves teaching math when the kids are actually learning something …

I once heard of a young man who thought so critically, and was so intelligent, he had to wear headphones just to tranquilize him. As if the thoughts he had in his head wouldn’t even let him socialize normally with others. I can only imagine how loud he had to put his headphones just to drown out those thoughts about the world. Confucius once said that the more you know, the more you realize you know nothing, but I add, that the more you think you know, the more inclined you are to ignore the human aspects of the things you know. It’s more than the “ignorance is bliss” conjecture; it’s the inability to go out and enjoy the one life we’re given (or for some of you, the life that you’re given presently).

Sometimes, we’re so encumbered with being the deepest thinker, the best polemicist, or the most potent orator that we forget to feel something for another. Many would recall how I rode on a high horse for the majority of my college career, in part because of the influences around me and their high expectations for every and anything, but also it was a personal crusade to change the way people thought. While it was well-intentioned, it was also taxing to my intimate life, and often while I thought I was giving the proper motivation to some, I was really demoralizing them. Sometimes I would avoid dealing with some issues in favor of this greater goal for some common good.

I think of my ex-roommate Howard, whose now doing really well for himself in the greater Boston area. We seemed like polar opposites. He was neat, I was a little messy. He was mostly Republican, and I was liberal, but bordering on anarchism. He focused on his school work hard, and I focused on my extra-curricular activities. He lived in the Syracuse area for the majority of his life, and I was from NYC. He owned most of Master P’s CD collection, and I couldn’t stand Master P except for “Make Em Say Uhhhh!” Oh yeah, and he’s White and I’m a Black –Latino.

While I was out there protesting, calling people on their crap, reading up on every and anything related to the Ma’at and the Maa’fa (i.e. the African Slave Trade / Holocaust), organizing events, petitioning to become the education chair (and de facto president) of La LUCHA, and speaking out against White privilege in clandestine meetings, I was also having deep conversations with Howard about love (and lack thereof), sports, and even politics. As these conversations became more frequent during our senior year, I saw how much of my misdirected anger at people who also have their own battles really hurt my arguments for unity and peace. For every time I got angry because I barely made it financially at SU, I also had to check myself, because his family had to work just as hard without the benefits of financial aid. With some of the knuckleheads we had on campus, he might have had an argument for wondering why he didn’t get their financial aid since they were wasting it.

We’re there in our living room, maybe playing NBA Street, or wondering what our then girlfriends thought of us, but we’re there learning lessons about people we may not have known as much about. At times, we went through some struggles getting adjusted to each other’s lifestyles, but that’s what growing looks like. I taught him a little about how to stay on beat, and he gave me my first glass of Blue Moon, my favorite beer on Earth. We weren’t Jack and Cola, or Crockett and Tubbs, but out of the few roommates I have had, he’s probably my favorite.

I couldn’t have arrived at that point if I stuck with my often divisive extremism. I still protested, and held my ground on many issues related to racism, economic stratification, sexism, etc., but I also grew, considering the other person’s experiences and valuing their own humanity. I don’t believe in compromising one’s self for the sake of pleasing others. But there is something to be said for the man (or woman) who can mature and delve deeper into the human experience before he / she says something they don’t understand.

When we think about Human Rights in this or any country, the first step in becoming an advocate for social change is to look at oneself. Understand more thoroughly where you’re coming from and how the experiences you’ve had have molded you into the person you are. Once that’s settled, then other people’s arguments become easier to analyze. You won’t necessarily agree, but it’s much more imperative to listen and understand than to walk around with a pair of headphones, guarding you from your own fear and thus your humanity …

Jose, who along with Wayne, acknowledges Human Rights Day today …

I love blog carnivals, because every time one comes up, not only do new and experienced people check out my rants, I also learn a lot from the plethora of posts (and the education carnival is growing by the month!) A month back, The Tempered Radical wrote an excellent piece about separating work behaviors from academics, and while I agreed, I also found myself thinking hard about the merits and demerits of this and other pillars of my classroom. I’m usually on the left in every issue that comes up with education, but sometimes I’ll veer somewhere near the middle, a frightening thought for someone who engages in protests and anarchist revelry every so often.

For example, let’s take TTR’s argument. He states,

We feel it’s important that the number grades you see represent academic ability only because then you as parents are given an accurate indicator of their knowledge and skill in each content area.  When grades are inflated because a child “works hard” or deflated because a child “misbehaves” or “fails to turn in assignments,” then parents never truly have a clear picture of what their children actually know.

That being said, we also understand that work behaviors—-coming to school prepared, completing homework assignments on time, following directions, being motivated and excited, participating in classroom conversations—are absolutely essential to a student’s success.  In fact, in many ways, a student’s work behaviors is a more accurate indicator of how successful they will be in the future.

I agree to a certain extent. A fellow teacher of mine made a poignant statement about 2 students we used to teach when she said, “Student A will definitely make it because, in spite of his inability to focus now, his mother and father are on his case, and that’ll turn into him being responsible. Student B on the other hand, intelligent as he is, prefers lazy and doesn’t have anyone at home really checking up on him, so there’s a higher chance that he won’t do well.” Deep but true.

But it brings me to thinking about how best to incorporate TTR’s argument into the numerical grade. Unfortunately, if parents aren’t responding to the work behavior rubrics as they should, then we need to shift the grading policy so it accurately describes everything going on in the classroom. That’s why I’m somewhere in the middle on that.

While I’m at it, I also see a plethora of blogs (including this one) discussing high stakes testing, and frankly, I’m not that much on the fence about the issue. To the contrary, I think the way high stakes testing has affected NYC (and many other cities) schools has been detrimental to everyone but the people who get to manipulate the statistics for their own political gain instead of actually treating the problem. Of course, we also see an influx of third-party members dictating how kids will be tested despite the state standards being written out in clear form.

What seems to be missing from all this discussion, though, is the need for true national standards, and a real national test. No matter what anyone says, one of the big reasons why this country doesn’t have it all together is because states and districts get to dictate what their community needs mathematically rather than a national agenda for what certain students should know by certain grades. I agree that not all 6th graders are made alike, but we have to give a 6th grader a common ground from one state to the next, particularly because for students whose parents are constantly on the move.

But these ideas and others, which I’ll develop in part 2 on Thursday, are theorems and really have been up for discussion possibly since the beginning of education, but I do find myself agreeing with parts of a lot of solid arguments, often contradictory, but usually in line with my thinking at that point and time. If I squint really hard though, I start to see that some of our arguments can really take its own shape, and hopefully if everyone kinda squints, we can focus on our goal: teaching the kids.

jose, who can’t believe he’s publishing this late …

I have to tell you, I definitely felt like I learned a lot at the conference I keep telling you all about. I discovered a lot about my own teaching and how I’m doing a lot more right than I thought, but also found stuff that I need to work on more diligently. I suppose if I’m going to be in this as a career, I should learn a few things here and there.

Like I mentioned before, I took copious notes at the conference, hoping to not only remember what I was taught but also share with mi gente. I’ll try to make it brief and all notes are available in full if you ask, but here’s my summarized top ten:

1. Teachers don’t do a good enough job helping kids understand abstractly as well as concretely. (courtesy of Greg Tang, author of The Grapes of Math)

I totally see this. For the first decade and a 1/2 of my education, I knew what place value was, but I didn’t understand how it worked until I got into college, when I started learning more about binary systems as a computer science major. We need to push the kids’ thinking, and try to help them become more abstract thinking and give them a foundation for that thinking.

This man’s also the one that said, “What’s the 8th planet in our solar system? What, you don’t know? It’s Planet of the Eights! It’s a joke, don’t you get it?” Well done.

2. One person’s self-evident truth is another person’s unfounded theory. (courtesy of Julian Weissglass)

Weissglass used a historical analysis of the Constitution to concretely explain the last statement. If we understand the Constitution as it was written, then we’ll see that it didn’t apply to a huge section of America’s constitution. In other words, what some at the time may have considered a basic assumption for living may not have been so for another person. Actually, I want to write more about this later on (presses pause until Thursday).

3. Math, art, and technology mesh much more readily if we think a little more deeply. Just ask Leonardo daVinci. (courtesy of Nikki Blair)

4. Not only are we in the business of pushing kids to be better, but making it harder for them to be average. (courtesy of Larry Bradsbury)

If we want to become better teachers, we need a more systematic approach, by defining skills that we want the kids to learn, diagnose student needs, provide appropriate activities, evaluate student learning, reteach if need be, and maintain better student records.

5. Good feedback isn’t an easy task. (courtesy of Laura Maly and Sharon Kolade)

Just like the comments we leave in blogs, writing good comments on posts can change how the original writer improves or understands the task at hand.

6. Sometimes, it’s the kids that are at the highest levels that need the most help. (courtesy of Dr. Joyce Fisher)

With regards to ELLs (English Language Learners), sometimes they’ll be really good at doing math in their own language, but they’ll have a hard time translating that math knowledge into English because not every concept in Spanish has a cognate in English.

7. Broaden the question so more students have entry into the discussion. (courtesy of Marian Small)

This applies to everyone, but if we look at differentiated instruction, sometimes asking a specific question can really limit who will participate in the conversation. For some purposes, it may be good to target the question for a specific answer, but in general, making the question accessible to every student will allow even the low-level students to feel engaged in the conversation. So, for example, instead of asking, “Is 6 a factor of 54?” we might ask, “What relationships can we make between 54 and 6?”

8. Be careful with too many cultural references in your exams. (courtesy of Carol Caref)

Unfortunately, when it comes to tests, they’re often culturally biased without people even realizing it. Those biases can make the difference between students who excel in their tests, and those that understand the math but can’t grasp it because they don’t know what the dimensions of a house look like or how a mortgage works.

Also, I got to see David M. Schwartz work his magic with How Much Is a Million? and Nora Ramirez, president of TODOS (a group for teachers who teach Latino / Hispanic students) not only demo a lesson on proportions, but also explain the values of going her math teacher organization. The conference also gave me a good indication that, overall, I’m on the right track. I just need to keep plugging away.

I was actually a little disappointed that I didn’t see any of the prominent edubloggers either go to the conference or present at the NCTM, but I suppose with time that too shall pass.

jose, who will finally start using his SmartBoard …