Getting caught

Are your students sneaky?  Are they trying to be sneaky?  Are you tired of them trying not to get caught?  Do you get frustrated when Little Glenn constantly watches you just to make sure you are not watching him?  You might catch him fairly often, which is frustrating, but imagine how you would react if you caught him every time.

Driving to work this morning, I noticed that pretty much every driver tries not to get caught doing something or another that causes an extra glance in the rearview mirror looking out for law enforcement.  Almost everyone drives too fast (or ridiculously too slow,) or gets through the traffic light a split second late, or changes lanes without signaling, or glances at a cell phone while driving, or a multitude of other things that warrant a quick look around for a cop.

 Adults try not to get caught.  The rules of the road are occasionally inconvenient to your personal desires to get where you are going.  So you break the rules and try not to get caught.  When we do get caught, the experience leaves the driver feeling bad or lucky.  You got caught and you got a ticket or you got away with a warning.  Bad or lucky.

I love hearing excuses from my friends after traffic citations and just how heartless the officer's attitude was.  I also love hearing how kind the cop was if you just got a warning.

Kids try not to get caught. The rules of the classroom are occasionally inconvenient to their personal desires to act like a kid.  So they break the rules and try not to get caught.  When you do catch a kid bending the rules, what kind of cop are you?  Does the kid feel bad? Or... does the kid feel lucky to have you as a teacher?

*Ultimate respect for all law enforcement!  Just talking about the feelings and reactions of the rule breaker, not the actions of the officer doing his/her job!*

I don't know...

"Why were you out of your seat?"

"I don't know."

"Why were you talking?"

"I don't know."

"Why were you running down the hall?"

"I don't know."

Kids say this quite often when they are questioned about misbehavior.  Some teachers believe that, "I don't know." is an unacceptable answer.  A kid makes a poor choice and the teacher wants to know why.  Asking a child to explain their rationale is not a bad thing.  Expecting a reasonable answer can be a bad thing.

If a kid runs the last 50 feet to your classroom door and you ask, "Why were you running?"  Don't expect a reasonable answer.  The kid knows there is no reasonable answer.  They probably weren't running due to a real fear and pretty much any other answer will be unacceptable to you.  Kids know this!

A lot of kids would love to say, "Did you see me cut in and out of all those kids like I was in the NFL!!!"  They don't give you this answer because they know better.  A lot of kids just like to run but telling you that would not go so well for them.  Running is fun for some kids, but it is a bad answer for most teachers.

When kids respond with, "I don't know," they either really don't know or they really don't want to tell you because they know you won't like the answer.

Embrace and accept the I don't know, then explain your rationale for better behavior briefly and kindly.

Free time

My son sent me a message during school yesterday via Snapchat.  It was a video of students playing cards, talking, and napping.  The teacher said it was a free period because it was the last class before the Thanksgiving holiday break.  Today, he sent me another message.  He begged me to let him leave school because his teacher for his third class of the day told them they had nothing to do.  This morning, the teacher for his fourth (and last) class of the day told him they would have free time.

For the last half of the school day, my son walked into classes with nothing to do.  He begged to leave.  I told him to stay.  As an educator, that is the right thing to say.  Maybe because the benefits of good attendance have been driven into my brain over the last 30 years!

What are the benefits of spending three hours doing nothing?  There are no benefits.  Are there negatives?  Certainly.  This kid already complains of boredom at school.  Now I am telling him he must sit through three hours of free time because attendance matters???  He isn't buying it.

Healthy competition

There are plenty of arguments for and against competition in the classroom.  I certainly have some strong opinions about the appropriate usage of competition in elementary schools.  Before kids compete in schools, a good environment for healthy sportsmanship is paramount.

Watch your students at recess, if a kid scores a goal, makes a touchdown, or hits a jump shot, does he throw his hands in the air and puff up his chest, trying to emulate a pro athlete?  Or... does he run over to his teammates for a quick high-five to celebrate?

To make competition healthy in school, we must create an environment that celebrates winners and losers in a supportive manner.  Will the winner smile proudly and give everyone a humble thumbs up?  Will everyone else be happy for their friend who won?  Is the classroom a place where learning is the important thing and the contest simply makes it a bit more fun?

Today, my class played a quick game online.  They worked out a few long division problems on whiteboards, then clicked their answer choice on the computers (Kahoot!)  The goal was to simply practice the skill of division.  The winner was unexpected.  The response from the class was outstanding!  The kids who thought they should have won were genuinely happy for the winner!  There were no sore losers.

And the kid who won!  He smiled and said, "Thank you," to everyone who congratulated him.  

Dirty hands

The current unit for science includes a bunch of stuff about erosion and weathering and dirt.  The textbook talks about red soil in Hawaii and loamy soil and nutrient-rich soil and clay-rich soil.  Since a field trip to Hawaii is out of the question, the pictures and text in the book is somewhat irrelevant.

Instead, we went out side and looked for evidence of weathering and erosion.  We walked the places that water flowed and looked at the different dirt in different areas around campus.  We found places where fine particles of soil collected and we found areas with no fine soil, only rocks.  We noticed the direction the water erosion took place on the grounds of our school and checked out areas for deposition.  They felt the moisture-rich soil and shared the different soils in their hands.

And while all of this was happening, we used the appropriate vocabulary.  We noticed and wondered.  We found relevance in the ground beneath our feet.  We created connections between our world and the foreign language in that textbook.  After a great science walk, the kids mostly owned the vocabulary.  More importantly, they didn't memorize it.  They experienced it.

Time for lesson planning

I think I knew this, but I didn't really get it.  Now... I get it.

As a principal, I would try my best to model and provide excellent PD.  In order to move our entire campus forward, I would labor and toil over PD design in order to make a big impact for all.  I would try to make it engaging for all by differentiating for differing levels of mastery.  My materials would be prepared ahead of time and I would have my questions ready to ask.  Musical interludes were common and there would always be plenty of movement and sharing.  I would be sure to highlight specific strategies and take-aways that could be used immediately in classrooms.  I also had two dynamic luxuries.  I did most of this planning with brilliant collaboration from my AP and my instructional coach.  Most importantly, I had tons of time to design and prep the PD.  It was not uncommon to spend three or four hours designing each hour of PD.  I believe my efforts to design and provide high-quality learning experiences for teachers were the most important hours of my time.

As a teacher, I try my best to provide excellent learning for my students.  In order to move my class forward, I invest brain-power and sweat to ensure that each student benefits from the learning activities.  I consider differentiation as much as possible and I hope to have material and questions prepped and ready for the day prior to the learning experience.  I have the luxury of planning time with a smart and complementary team of teachers.  I wish we could meet every day, but it isn't feasible...yet.  Without them, I wouldn't be able to leave campus before dark!  I believe every teacher's hardest work and most important work happens during the lesson design process.  With approximately 5.5 hours of classroom learning time each day, I estimate that I have about 15-20 minutes to plan each hour of learning.  This includes 45 minutes of time during my available conference times and 90-120 minutes before or after school each day.  These numbers are probably inflated due to all of the other time requirements that happen during a teacher's planning time.  Ten hour days are the short ones!

PD happens.  Great classroom strategies, models for instruction, and high-yield strategies are taught, practiced, and discussed.  As a principal, I wondered why these strategies didn't show up more ubiquitously in classrooms across campus.  Now... I get it.

Silent hallways

Close your eyes and create this picture in your mind:  Single file lines of folks walking through the hallways.  The lines stop at pre-determined locations.  They do not proceed without permission.  The only voices you hear are from those in charge, constantly reminding folks not to talk.  The only words you hear are, "Shhhh!"

"No talking."

"Level Zero volume, please."

"You have lost points."

"Stay on the right side."

"Single file."

"No talking."

Which one do you picture?

The only two places I can think of that require zero talking in the hallways are prisons and some elementary schools.  As I observe attempts for zero talking in schools, successfully getting kids to remain completely silent in hallways seems impossible.  As teachers attempt to make the hallways silent, the only words that are actually heard in the hallways are usually negative.  The only words that are heard are the ones that are spoken to kids who are breaking the rule.  When a kid wants to say something, a choice is made.  Am I gonna break the silence rule or not?  Usually, most kids choose option three.  Try to be sneaky.  Try not to get caught.

Sure, teachers will give compliments to a quiet class, but they do not actually seem to elicit any student pride.  They are fairly hollow compliments that are far outweighed by the constant "reminders" to be silent.  Six comments to students that are not quiet will be heard much more clearly than, "Thank you to the front of the line for not talking at all."  Usually, when a teacher thanks the front of the line, they really want the back of the line to hear it, hoping it will remind them to hush!

Instead, what if we taught our students to use an appropriate hallway volume?  What if we taught them to keep conversations to a minimum in the hallways?  What if we taught them how to save lengthy conversations for a better time?  Would this type of environment require any more redirection towards students who break the hallway volume rule?

It is funny that when kids try to sneak in little conversations, they typically use a volume that teachers would find quite acceptable.  If we can see that most of our kids are capable of it, why don't we create systems that foster the skill?

Would more kids break the rules if we allowed quiet conversations?  I don't think so.  The same kids who act impulsively, regardless of the rules, will struggle.  I think that the average child will break the rules much less often because this system is not so black and white.  Option three, whispering, is actually the preferred option.  I am certain that teachers would minimize the number of redirection comments that currently occur entirely too often.

It also seems to be true that teachers vary widely on what silence means in the hallways.  Some teachers are absolute sticklers for it, while others are much more lax.  The sticklers shake their heads at the lax ones.  Funny though, that some teachers who don't like the rule still enforce it with fidelity because they are rule followers.

If your school requires silence in the hallways, count the number of times you hear an adult remind students to be silent in the hallways.  It is overwhelming.  Count the number of sneaky conversations that students hold without causing disruption or noise.

Does a demand for silence teach kids what we want them to learn about being a little human being in this world?