matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

education and teaching

Today in Class

Students have been spending the last two days working on how we can use plot and setting to analyze a short story. Each day's classes came up with slightly different results.

Our first step was to explicate the plot and setting of our story:

We determined that the real heart of the story, and thus of the conflict, was the fact that the protagonist unknowingly kills his brother as he tries to escape from being pinned down on the roof. This is what gives the story its power; this is the heart of the story that cannot be tampered with.

We then began asking whether we could change various elements of the plot. We determined that it doesn't have to be on a roof; it just has to be somewhere the protagonist can be trapped. We decided that it doesn't have to be Dublin, though a historian of the Irish Civil War might tell us that snipers were only active in Dublin. (I have no idea if this is the case. I used it as an example.) At first, everyone thought it couldn't be moved from Ireland because it's set in the Irish Civil War, but we soon figured out that it simply has to be in a setting where a brother could kill a brother without knowing it. Civil war and gang warfare are the most logical locations.

From there, it was fairly easy to create a working TS for our paragraph. We added some CDs before we decided that we had them in the wrong order: CD2 was our first CD so we would actually reverse the order if we were to write this paragraph. Finally, once all the CM was completed, we saw that our TS was a little out of alignment with our chunks, so we gave it a whack to knock it over a bit, adding "In order for the surprise ending to work" at the beginning of the paragraph.

At this point, the majority of the work is done. We still have actually to write out everything, but the hardest part is behind us.

Covid-Era Lesson

Today we began the heavy lifting of the first unit of significance: we're learning the difference between analyzing and summarizing in order to begin analyzing short stories. We looked at Li-young  Lee's "The GIft" in order to determine the difference. The first step was to determine how much of the summary was not from the poem, highlighting those portions in the summary yellow. By the middle of class, it was clear to students that none of the summary should be highlighted yellow as all of the material in the summary comes directly or indirectly from the text.

Next students looked at analysis of the poem:

The poem “The Gift” tells the story of a young boy whose father is removing a splinter from his hand. It is a poem about the fact that everyday events like pulling a splinter out can be in fact gifts, and the poem accomplishes this by highlighting apparent opposites. To begin with, the act of pulling a splinter out of the hand is inherently violent, but the poem creates a tenderness about it. The speaker tells us that instead of focusing on the painful act of pulling the splinter out, he “watched his [father's] lovely face” and listened as his father “recited a story in a low voice.” His father's face and voice were calming, and this undoubtedly helped turn the situation into a calm memory later in life. In fact, instead of being a violent act, this is only a tender moment.

Students, working in groups, were to highlight light blue anything that's an inference and dark red anything that comes directly from the text.

The upshot was the understanding that most if not all of the content for summary comes from the text itself whereas most of the content in analysis comes from the writer's head -- opinion and inference backed from the text.

The final step was to analyze the paragraph for Schaffer completeness. Students determined the following:

  • This sentence feels like a topic sentence (it makes a claim) but is in the wrong location:
    It is a poem about the fact that everyday events like pulling a splinter out can be in fact gifts, and the poem accomplishes this by highlighting apparent opposites.
  • The third sentence feels like it might be a CD because it's got a transition element but it's an opinion, which is not the role of CDs but rather CMs or even TSs.
    To begin with, the act of pulling a splinter out of the hand is inherently violent, but the poem creates a tenderness about it.
  • The fourth sentence has a quote, which means it comes from the writer's source (in this case, the poem) and not his/her head. This means it feels like a CD but is in the position of a CM otherwise.
    The speaker tells us that instead of focusing on the painful act of pulling the splinter out, he “watched his [father's] lovely face” and listened as his father “recited a story in a low voice.”

Schooling 2020

Were this a normal week, I would have finished today feeling that I had laid the foundation my students for the rest of the year by teaching them the basics of the writing system we use. They would have practiced and planned with partners as I wandered about the room, listening to conversations here and there and intervening when I felt it was necessary.

"Please zoom in to 150% on Google Docs," I would have said, "so I can get a peek as I walk by and see if you need direction or not." I would have looked over students shoulders to see if their first attempts with this at-first bizarre system of writing I teach (and insist on students using) were developing according to plan.

I would have told a few students, "Look, you really need some one-on-one time with this, so come by tomorrow during advisory, and we'll make sure you leave feeling much more confident."

Instead, I went step by step with students through the process, but each student was with me for a different part of the process; the other time they worked through it on their own at home with materials I developed. Which means I was unable to assess and assist them as they went along. Which meant I spent an inordinate amount of time assessing things online this week that I never would have assessed in a normal year. Which means I'm not at all confident about my students' development right now.

Covid-schooling.

First Day 2020

It's an odd thing, repeating the same thing four times. Four times. Four times. Four times. But that's what I did today, doing the first day scenario four times as I have four English I Honors classes this year. But in fact, I'll be repeating today's lessons four days, hitting a quarter of the students in a given period each day. That's an altogether different issue: repeating the same lesson sixteen times.

That's the Covid-19, 2020-school-year reality.

The only exception to this is journalism, which is not journalism this year because it's logistically impossible. Instead, it's "Creative Nonfiction" -- close but not really the same at all. In that class, I had the kids start their journals, and I wrote in my own to model the expectation and show that when I say "You can write about anything," I mean it:

The first day of the dreaded 2020 school year is over and what do I have to show for it? Well, I'm quite frankly completely sick of this mask: I haven’t worn a mask continually ever. Evetr. During last week, I took it off in the classroom, but GCS requires teachers to wear a mask when around students, and honestly, if the didn’t require it, I would be a little upset. It’s a pain, but it’s for everyone’s safety.

Still, there were a lot of things I didn’t expect. For one thing, it’s much harder to understand what students are saying when they’re wearing masks. I had one girl who spoke very quietly, and I had to ask her to slip her mask off for a second because I couldn’t understand what she was saying at one point. And it happened more than once now that I think about it. Another unexpected element was how warm my face got with it on. Having not worn a mask for more than a hour at a time, I didn’t realize how my face would warm up and just stay warm. My wife had to wear a mask every day when she was still working at __, and she told me how hot it was, but it really didn’t register that it would be my reality when the school year started. A final unexpected element was how I could get used to it. Despite the heat and the other challenges, there were points that I wasn’t even thinking about it -- until my nose itched and I went to scratch it.

Still, it’s a small price to pay. I’m glad to be back in the classroom with students. That 100% online teaching was hardly teaching. Granted, I didn’t do any teaching today to speak of (well, perhaps showing students how to organize their Drive folders a bit), but still, being physically with the students--there’s no substitute for it. I don’t really like that I won’t see these kids for a week after they leave today, though I know it’s necessary for preventing the spread of our covid reality. Will I remember everyone’s name in a week after not having seen them? I kind of doubt it. I’m so terrible with names as it is: having a week between each meeting will make it all the more difficult. That's tempered by the fact that I”m only learning 4-7 names per period. Despite that, I doubt I’ll remember every name next Monday.

(I just had a realization: if we have a snow day, one group of kids is missing essentially a whole week of school. It’s another argument against having in-person days different lessons from what online kids are doing.)

I will have to write a "first" entry three more times this week.

That's the Covid-19, 2020-school-year reality.

More Surprises

For next week, we're to prepare a week of elearning for the kids. All the students will come in for one class period (for the week), but they'll spend the rest of the time doing elearning at home.

I found out today, though, that I can't make any plans that assume they have computers because they won't be getting their Chromebooks until they come to class that one day. (Never mind that the district set aside this week for students to come in and get their Chromebooks...) So I'm to plan elearning that includes no elearning.

I'm still trying to figure out just how that might work...

More Questions

We’re meeting with our kids once a week: each class is divided into four groups, with each group meeting on a given day. The other days the students are engaged in online learning or e-learning or whatever it’s called now. So here was my question: how do I plan lessons around that. Two options seemed obvious:

  1. Teach a special lesson on the day that the kids are with me and something else for the other kids. This seems to make the most of the fact that we’re together, in person. We don’t want to spend that time on activities that don’t need me right there — like reading a short text. We want that time for discussions, for one-on-one help. For things like that.
  2. Teach the same thing to the kids at home and at school.

Obviously, from the argument I just made, I was leaning toward option one. But then there’s all the potential disasters:

  • It will be almost impossible for the kids to keep up with what’s what.
  • Forget the kids — it would be tough for me to keep track of who’s where doing what.
  • What happens if we have a fire drill or something on that day? Those kids just lose out on that particular lesson.
  • What happens at the end of the quarter? Everyone is not at the same place at the same time. How can I equitably grade them?

Yet the second option has similar issues. I have to make sure that the activities are equitably spaced out among the days: I can’t have Monday kids always doing close reading with me and Thursday kids always writing things based on Monday’s close reading. Then there’s the question of how to assess and provide feedback to the kids who were at home that day. Do I come home from school and spend another six hours going over what kids did online?

The argument for e-learning until things to back to normal grows stronger…

What I Didn’t Consider

We had our eighth-grade meeting today, held in the cafeteria in desks spaced far enough that we didn’t have to wear masks according to CDC guidelines. The meeting began at 8:30; it ended just before noon.

What all could we talk about for that long? Well, truth be told, things were rushed at the end to try to keep it from going even longer.

What could we talk about for so long?

  • Masks — how do we make sure students wear them? How do we deal with students taking them off?
  • Bathroom — how does that work to ensure social distancing and such?
  • Lunch — how do we get them in and out while maintaining a safe distance? (And making sure they’ve all washed their hands.)
  • Attendance — how do we take roll for those students who are working at home that day?
  • Behavior issues — how will we deal with chronically misbehaving students since to suspend them three days would mean actually suspending them for three weeks?
  • Fire drills — what will they look like? And can we take into consideration that missing 15% of a class period for a fire drill is missing 15% of the week’s time with those given students?

Just a few things that will keep me up at night for the next few weeks.

The Coming School Year

Today the district released the attendance plan for the beginning of this school year:

The latest DHEC COVID-19 spread ratings are out. Greenville County remains HIGH overall, but continues to show improvement. Greenville ranks HIGH in incidence rate (296) and the percent of positive tests (13.7%), but since our numbers overall are decreasing, we are rated LOW in the trend in incidence category.

As a result, GCS is announcing later this afternoon that we will return to school on August 24 under Attendance Plan 1. On the GCS Roadmap, this is the plan in which students in our traditional program attend school one day each week and are on eLearning the other four days.

Said roadmap looks like this:

So I will be meeting all my students one day a week. I counted that up this evening and had a little epiphany, which I mentioned to K: “That means I’ll teach the same lesson sixteen times in a row each week.”

At first she thought I was talking nonsense: “Won’t you just do the same thing with every class but some of them will be online?”

“That would require preparing two lessons a day, one for the online kids and one for the in-person kids, trying to figure out how to do the same thing two different ways.” She saw the problems with that method. “What I need to use my in-person time for is practice when I need to be there to lend a helping hand and be available for in-person help.”

In my mind, that means staggering lessons among students, though: if online lessons 1, 2, and 3 are meant to culminate with the in-person lesson for individual practice, every class will be at a different place on that continuum each day. That would be a nightmare to keep everything straight in my head and my planning.

This will really require us to re-think teaching in a lot of ways. Perhaps that will have some good long-term effects.

Raven Cliff Falls

Today was the last Sunday before the school year starts, so we made the most of it with a hike that was supposed to be 5 miles total but ended up being 8. A lot packed into that sentence.

Starting school. What does that even mean this year? For weeks we've been wondering about what the year will look like. When our average daily new C-19 statewide case number was 100-200, we ended the school year in March and spent the rest of the year online babysitting for the most part. Now our daily numbers are 1,000+, and they have been for weeks. And we're talking about going back to school? It seems like madness. But we've got a Republican governor and a staunch Trump supporter to boot, so science be damned -- let's send those kids back to school. (Our governor pointed out that there's little risk in school-age children dying from this. When asked about the risks to teachers and their families, our fine governor said, "Well, they signed up for the job" -- as if he were talking about police officers or infantry soldiers.)

As for the 8-mile-should-have-been-5-mile hike -- what can we say? We used AllTrails.com to calculate the distance and didn't realize it was only calculating the portion of the hike that was on the red trail, neglecting the portion of the blue and pink trails we had to go on to reach Raven Cliff Falls. One would think that "Raven Cliff Falls Trail" leads to -- guess -- RCF. But it only gets you so far -- the rest is whatever the blue and pink portions were called.

But all the kids made it -- with minimal complaining. Well, "minimal" is often so very relative...

New New Year

We had our first staff meeting of the 2020/2021 school year this afternoon -- via Zoom. I think that's fairly indicative of what the year will be like.

What do we know now? We know what our various schedules will look like. We have four possibilities:

  1. Remote learning 100% -- no days in the school.
  2. In-person learning 25% of the time -- every kid comes to school one day a week, with the other days being online-only. (Reduces class sizes to about 7 per period.)
  3. In-person learning 50% of the time -- every kid comes to school twice a week, with the other days being online-only.
  4. Full-time in-person learning.

But we've known about these possibilities for weeks now. What exactly will we be doing? We're supposed to find out 10 August -- the first day teachers head back for in-school work days. If we go with option 1, which would be the sensible option given how awful our state if faring because of the high proportion of anti-maskers in our lovely red state, all our "getting rooms ready" time will be for nothing. No big deal -- more planning time.

Still, there's a lot more behind the scenes than I'd really thought about. What about kids who would otherwise be suspended? If we're in scenario 2, a three-day suspension would mean in reality three-week suspension. "We're just not going to do that if we can at all avoid it," our principal said. That was a scenario that I'd never considered, though.

I expect in the coming weeks, we'll be encountering much we didn't expect, no matter what our schooling looks like.