Patty McGee

In making the case for humane teaching, I open with the courageous words that I have heard students say to their teachers:

 

A kindergartener: When you yell, it makes me sad and afraid.

 

A second grader: Please, please don’t dump my desk when it is messy.

 

A fifth grader: When you announce the highest test scores with a drum roll, it makes others feel bad, especially those who work hard and will never score the highest.

 

A seventh grader: I am having trouble learning in your class because I am afraid you are going to embarrass me by throwing my binder on the floor, too.

 

A tenth grader: The fact that my paper was the most marked up in the class does not mean I should read it aloud to my classmates.

 

These are just a few of the statements I have heard in the past few years. Students shouldn’t have to self-advocate in these ways. These pleas for compassion compel me to say:

 

We are experiencing an epidemic of inhumane teaching.

 

I state this bluntly because I cannot circle around this issue for another moment. Through actions and inactions, spoken words and stony silences, teachers are creating a hostile learning environment, whether they realize it or not. Too many students endure school days punctuated with inhumane experiences, either directed at them or their peers. Whether it’s intentional or not, and whether it’s a byproduct of being saturated in an uncivil media culture, inhumane teaching is suffocating our children. In Alfie Kohn’s description of this epidemic, he writes, “Students tend to be regarded not as subjects but as objects, not as learners but as workers. By repeating words like ‘accountability’ and ‘results’ often enough, the people who devise and impose this approach to schooling evidently succeed in rationalizing what amounts to a policy of feel-bad education.” (Kohn 2004)

 

Unrealistic expectations are being heaved onto educators, no doubt about it. It’s understandable to bristle and buckle under the pressure of accountability and raising the bar mandates. This pressure, however, does not give us educators permission to fuel inhumane learning environments. Yet it is happening. Educators have become far too comfortable saying damaging statements within earshot: These kids will never be ready for the test next year; high school is going to be a rude awakening; he is so low in math. It is hurting our students. Ultimately, it is hurting ourselves too. When we diminish students, we feel diminished.

 

I say this as someone who is guilty of misusing my power as an educator. I have outwardly shown frustration at answering the question that I already answered a half dozen times. “Okay, everyone, I am going to say this one more time. Jack, Jack, are you listening? I don’t think you are.” Even when I perpetuated seemingly neutral habits like naming students by their reading level, I was undermining learners’ confidence and capacity to learn. And every time I did something like this, whether during whole class teaching or with individual students, I felt a nugget of yuck in my gut. I am not sure I could have articulated it at the time, but now I see that it felt wrong because it was going against the very grain of my beliefs. Those were stress-fueled power plays, cheap shortcuts, and honestly, authoritarian acts.

 

It is time to commit ourselves to what feels morally sound: humane teaching.

 

Humane teaching is teaching with recognition of the learner. It springs from our own self-respect and professionalism, and an awareness that students thrive when teachers bring to their role a sense of stewardship.

 

Carl Rogers, grandfather of positive psychology and one of the great humanitarians of our time, describes this approach as “prizing the learner” and it is remarkably impactful on learning. “It is an acceptance of this other individual as a separate person, having worth in her own right… a prizing of the learner as an imperfect human being with many feelings, many potentialities.” It is the belief that all learners possess the innate desires to grow and yet are grappling with growing. “Learning is increased…. when they are simply understood – not evaluated, not judged, simply understood from their own point of view, not the teacher’s.” (Rogers 1967 304-311)

 

In line with Carl Rogers’ thinking, I am not suggesting we approach our students in a fluffy, sugary-sweet, singsongy way. That’s just nonsense and all students see right through it. Instead, I am urging us to take on courageous, brave teaching. Embrace the difficulties and the struggle of learning; accept the many complexities manifested in students and teaching without finger-pointing, blame, and humiliation. This is integral in the work we do: namely, teaching with compassion and esteem.

 

So just how do we teach with compassion and esteem? I am tempted to succinctly tell you in the numbered tips style so prevalent in all media, designed to hold the attention of a distracted population, but it’s not possible to squeeze this issue into such a format. There are no capsulized solutions.

 

So, instead, I reach out to you, requesting you to draw in close for just a bit longer so I may share a bigger message here. YOU are not the problem. If you are reading this blog, you are likely an enlightened educator who doesn’t shame students. But WE are all the problem. Let me explain. We can post, read, like, share, retweet these blogs till the cows come home, but that doesn’t seem to be stemming the tide of inhumane teaching in our schools. Instead, I want to crowdsource us and our own passion and smarts and outrage so that together, we recognize it’s time for greater collective action.

 

Within our schools, how might we use our insight and energy to help fellow educators learn more compassionate ways of interacting with students? How do we help us all be more compassionate with ourselves? It seems to me it’s done by way of a paradox— a pairing of zero-tolerance and generous, abundant curiosity about why we are resorting to those behaviors and how we might search out alternatives. It is a strict, daily commitment to prize the learners within our fold in the manner of Carl Rogers. We also must, every day, recognize and prize ourselves and our fellow educators. And when this does not happen, we act. We do not let discomfort dissuade us from addressing inhumane teaching.

 

Instead, we might choose to do what one educator, a principal who has taught me much, did to face inhumane teaching head-on. First, she acknowledged the feeling in her gut that said, “No way. These words are callous and cruel. This is not who we are.” Second, she recognized her role in the situation. She owned that in some way, shape, or form she contributed to the way teachers were speaking about students. Bravely, professionally, and compassionately, she spoke to the educators about her expectations of humane teaching and how all must grow (including herself) to prize their students, especially those who seem most challenging. From there, they all made a plan of action to study together— to study ways of educating humanely. Most importantly, they followed that plan of study together by reading, talking, teaching, and supporting one another in this work. May we all be inspired to follow this same path when advocating for educating compassionately.

 

This is brave, challenging work that requires persistence. Committing to humane teaching helps us ground ourselves in the greater purpose of the work we have been called to do, and helps us to teach from that sacred space so that learners no longer need to self-advocate for dignity. WE are the answer.

 

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Resources

Alfie Kohn Feel-Bad Education

Carl Rogers Infed

 

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Patty’s book is on Amazon.

 

Learn more about Patty: check out her website.

 

Follow Patty on Twitter @pmgmcgee

 

 

Timothy Rasinski, Ph.D. 

For many of you, the title of this blog entry may sound a bit nonsensical — Why teach something and then not use it?  But let me ask you to think a bit more deeply about phonics.  If you are reading this you are likely a proficient reader.  When reading how often do you have to stop and analyze or “sound out” individual words?  My guess is that more than 99.9% of the words you encounter in reading are not analyzed or “sounded.”   Most words we encounter as proficient readers are sight words – they are recognized instantly and near effortlessly.  Phonics is hardly used at all when proficient readers read.

We need phonics and other word analysis skills in order to get words into our heads.  But after a few encounters with analyzing specific words, those words become “imprinted” in our brains as sight words.  We need phonics to get words into our internal lexicons.  But once those words are automatized or made into sight words phonics is no longer needed.

Getting words to the point of automatization is critical to proficient reading.  The problem in reading is that all of us have a limited or finite amount of attention or cognitive energy.  Analyzing words, as is done in phonics, uses up a lot of that cognitive energy.  And that energy that is applied to word analysis cannot be applied to the more important part of reading – comprehension.  So what often happens are readers who can read all the words correctly, but because they are spending their precious cognitive resources on word analysis their comprehension falters.

Carol Chomsky noted this phenomenon in her 1976 classic article entitled “After decoding: What?”  Working with struggling readers, she taught them to decode words. However, despite the fact that they were able to decode words accurately, “albeit slowly and painfully (p. 288),” they continued to struggle with reading comprehension and general proficiency in reading.  The answer to her question of “What?” was helping students develop automaticity or fluency in their reading.  She did this by having students read interesting and challenging materials while simultaneously listening to an audio-recorded version of the text.  In a 15 week intervention period (less than four months), her students made approximately 8 months progress in reading!

Phonics is important, no question about it.  It is a tool that readers use to get words into their internal lexicons.  However, proficiency in phonics should not be the goal. Rather the goal should be to get students to the point where most of the words they encounter are automatically recognized so that their attention can be devoted to making meaning.    

The way to get young readers to the point of automatic word recognition is the same way a person develops automaticity in any activity – practice.  However, the practice needs to be the kind that allows children to move to proficient reading.  Two of the best ways of providing proficient practice is through assisted reading and repeated reading.

Assisted reading is what Carol Chomsky used with her students.  Students read texts while simultaneously listening to a fluent reading of the text.  This can occur by reading with a more proficient partner, reading with a group of others, or reading while listening to a recorded version of the text.  In all of these situations, the assist of another reader provides students with a scaffold that allows them to approach fluent reading on their own.

Repeated reading simply involves reading a text multiple times until a student can read it at a level that approaches proficiency.  When students who struggle in reading read a text, the initial reading is not proficient.  However, when they read it a second, third, and perhaps even a fourth time their proficiency improves until they are able to read it much like a proficient reader.  The “magic” behind both assisted and repeated reading is that the improvement that comes from reading one text with assistance and/or repeatedly transfers to new texts that students have not previously read.  In essence, students begin to pull their reading up by their bootstraps.   

While I don’t want to get overly technical in this blog, I do want to mention that, in this age of scientifically based reading instruction, a good deal of research supports both assisted and repeated reading, especially with students who find reading difficult.  In a recent review of research related to fluency interventions Stevens, Walker, and Vaughn (2017) conclude that “Results showed repeated reading,… and assisted reading with audiobooks produced gains in reading fluency and comprehension” (p. 576). My own research on the Fluency Development Lesson (Rasinski, 2010), a lesson that integrates assisted and repeated reading consistently results in improved performance in word recognition automaticity and comprehension.    

While it is critical that we provide students with solid instruction in phonics or word decoding, it is equally important that we keep in mind that we need to take students to that next level word reading—fluent, automatic, and proficient reading.  

References

Chomsky, C. (1976). After decoding: What? Language Arts, 53, 288-296.

Rasinski, T. V. (2010).  The fluent reader:  Oral and silent reading strategies for building word recognition, fluency, and comprehension (2nd edition).  New York: Scholastic.

Stevens, E., Walker, M., & Vaughn, S.  (2017). The effects of fluency interventions on the reading fluency and reading comprehension performance of elementary students with learning disabilities:  A Synthesis of the research from 2001-2014. Journal of Learning Disabilities, 50, 576-590.

 

You can find resources for teaching accurate and automatic word recognition (i.e. fluency) at Tim’s own website – www.timrasinski.com

Daily Word Ladders by Timothy Rasinski

Follow Tim on Twitter @TimRasinski1

 

        The greatest source of tears and heartbreak in our family, over all of our child-raising years, was homework. Like by far. Like 90%. Those unbidden, meaningless assignments, the mechanical worksheets, and odd-numbered math problems constantly led to friction, battles, resistance, weeping, and regret. It felt like the school was sending little hand grenades home with our kids, timed to explode just before a peaceful, playful, or relaxing evening could break out. That relentless assault on our family life still feels fresh, even though our kids are now 39 and 33.

        During this time, Elaine and I were both teaching, researching, and writing about progressive classroom practices – one of which was not worksheets. Nick and Marny knew very well what our professional principles were, so they could have called out our hypocrisy whenever we tried to enforce the evening’s dosage of drivel. But they didn’t often use that leverage; they knew we would marinate in our complicity. And we pretty much quit supporting school homework when they reached high school.

        And then there was the perennial pinch of being teacher-parents. You want to be a loyal employee of the district. You don’t want to accuse your colleagues of doing dumb or harmful things to children. And you recognize (or you should) that teachers get even fewer opportunities than normal parents to complain about things at school. When you are an educator, you simply can’t afford to be labeled, “One of Those Crank Parents.”

        If you resonate with these concerns, you may be fondly recalling Alfie Kohn’s entirely excellent book The Homework Myth: Why Our Kids Get Too Much of a Bad Thing (2006). Kohn likens homework for kids to the Second Shift for workers at the factory. You come home after eight hard hours and surprise – you have to go back to work! Kohn skillfully deconstructs every official rationale for homework. Decades of careful research studies have shown only negative outcomes for elementary kids and glancing, temporary ones for certain high schoolers. Then he runs through the more likely reasons that homework has been sustained against all evidence: upholding tradition, fostering obedience, providing ritual hazing (we had to go through it, now it’s your turn), developing a tolerance for toxic tasks, keeping kids off the streets, and finally, the redoubt of all scoundrels, the notion that homework “builds character.”

      For all the good work our friend Alfie did a decade ago, unexamined homework is still with us, in arguably more toxic forms. It’s bad enough when homework is menial, meaningless, and repetitive–a mere compliance ritual. But the content of homework-sheets can be even more corrupting than the process. We have just lived through another “Black History Month,” during which millions of kids came home with worksheets, mostly focused on Martin Luther King, (apparently the only African American leader of whom worksheet makers are aware.) This year’s assortment included MLK word-finds, matching exercises, fill in the blanks, word searches, and many more. Among the tasks:

1. Crossword puzzle clue for #7 Across:

Martin Luther King was assassinated during the month of __________.

2. A short historical text about MLK, followed by these instructions:

“Circle ten proper nouns and underline ten verbs.”

3. Freedom, peace, march, speech, Atlanta, minister, equal, dream, boycott, leader.
4. “Read these words and place them in alphabetical order.”
5. True-False: “Martin Luther King was a farmer.”
6. For those ready to further explore black heroes, another worksheet confides that Rosa Parks was “a tired seamstress who politely declined to give up her seat on the bus” because of her fatigue. Needless to say, the profile doesn’t mention that Parks had been an activist and leader of the NAACP for two decades and that she was tired of racism, not sewing.

Just in case you’re wondering, I am not making this up. These and hundreds more worksheets are available on the web for teachers to use, and reuse, and reuse. And these are not just time-wasters: they are desecrations of history and a pretty good example of how ignorance is engineered.

Just last week, a suburban Chicago teacher whom I follow on Twitter bravely began tweeting out photographs of her own young children suffering over the daily load of second-shift misery.

This is the face of my five-year-old doing useless homework when she would rather be playing. Five-year-olds don’t need homework. #ditchthehw

Tonight’s useless homework: track how many words you can read in 1-minute #ditchthehw

Things my kids could be doing right now instead of useless homework:

-reading

-playing with each other

-drawing

-talking to me about their day

-playing with their toys

-relaxing after 8 hours in school

#ditchthehw

So let’s get real. Let’s say you may work in a district where there is a serious Homework Policy dictating how many after-school minutes or hours kids are supposed to labor after school. So, let’s start by changing the categories of what counts as homework. Then, let’s design a time that’s stress-free, that invites kids’ curiosity and choice, and that doesn’t start battles between parents and kids, ruin whole evenings, and sell more Kleenex. Possible ideas for kids:

–Spend some time reading a book or magazine you have chosen.

–Go online to investigate a question that popped up in your life today.

–Interview family members about their work, interests, family-history.

–If you are in a literature circle at school, e-connect with classmates to discuss the book.

–Work on an ongoing “passion project,” something you have decided to look into long-term (animal extinction, volcanoes, the Cold War).

–Watch TV shows with family and talk about them.

–Free write in your personal journal (or work on your novel/poems).

–Pick an adult in the community you want to learn from and apprentice yourself.

Let’s grow this list together. Meet me at #DitchTheHW.

Learn more about Smokey!

By Lester Laminack

Enjoy, as Lester guides you from teacher-centered to student-centered teacher read alouds!

When you reach the end of an article, a story, or a book do you reach for your notebook to answer a set of questions written by someone else?  Do you feel that your understanding of what you have read, your worth as a reader, hinges on being able to give the answers to someone else’s questions?  Probably not.  Yet it seems that much of our reading instruction relies heavily on having our students answer a set of questions after they complete a reading assignment.  Following reading with a set of questions is a longstanding practice in literacy education.  In fact, many commercial reading programs follow this pattern.  One well-known program assigns a point value to each title, then has the children read and log on to a computer to read and answer a set of 10 multiple choice questions. Other programs have students read then write answers to similar questions. And if we are teaching from a literature-based approach that doesn’t rely upon a commercially produced program we tend to have our own questions to hold our students accountable.

Questions Can Create Patterns

As teachers, most of us were introduced to Bloom’s Taxonomy as undergraduates in a teacher education program.  We likely practiced developing questions for each of the levels in the taxonomy and began our teacher careers believing that it was our charge to develop good questions that would hold our students accountable and yield proof that they read and understood the assigned text.

We sat with our notepads at hand and read the books, articles, poems, and various other texts our students would read across the year.  We paused at various points in the text to draft the questions we would give our students.  We were attentive to character traits, shifts in the plot, nuances in word choice, the author’s use of simile and metaphor and figurative language.  We noted allusions to cultural references and other literature.  We were alert to the role of setting in the text, the way the author used dialog, bias, and narration.  We read closely and synthesized as we developed the questions we would present to the students.  Questions, whether presented by the program or developed by the teacher, may fall into a pattern or categories.  For example, questions about the main character, physical descriptions, main idea, vocabulary, opinion, evaluation, analysis, synthesis, inference, etc.

As students read and respond to the questions presented they begin to recognize the patterns as well.  Does this impact the way they read?  Does it shape what they tend to notice and pay attention to?  In other words, are they reading with the pattern of your questions in mind?  If the answer is, yes, then what are they failing to notice?  What is the cost to comprehension and attention and engagement?

Get In Touch With Ways You Read

Consider your own thought process as you read a text with the intention of writing questions for students to answer.  Are you beginning with a frame in mind? That is, do you begin with thoughts focused on Who? What? When? Where? Why? and How?  Or do you begin with the intention of finding three detail questions, two questions about the character’s motives, three questions that require the reader to interpret, two that require analysis, and one that calls for synthesis?  If the answer is, yes, then how does this frame influence YOUR approach as a reader? How does that process differ from the way you approach a professional text or a book you have selected to read for pleasure?  How does the approach effect your engagement with and your comprehension of the text?  Chances are that you read differently when you read for pleasure than when you read with the intention of developing a set of questions for your students.

Who’s Doing All The Thinking?

I have come to believe that the person who is asking the questions is the person who has done the thinking.  As you read to develop the questions for your students you were summarizing the text at critical points.  You were evaluating the merits of details and the use of Literacy devices.  You were synthesizing information and generating new thoughts.  You were noticing were the text called for an inference or expected you to have adequate background knowledge to connect to a metaphor or allusion.  In short, you were doing the deeper thinking, the more thorough analysis as a reader in service to the development of questions that would yield the proof of your students’ connections and comprehension.

Time To Flip the Read Aloud

I invite you to try something the next time you are reading aloud to your students.  As the story draws to a close and your voice delivers the last line simply close the book and exhale.  Pause for a few seconds and let silence settle over the group.  Then, look at them and speak quietly:  “Think for a few seconds.  Don’t speak yet, just think if you could speak with (author, illustrator, character, expert—beekeeper if the story is about bees, etc) what are the three best questions you could ask?  Think about that, please.  I’ll ask you to share your questions in just a moment.”

Have your notebook ready to jot down the questions as they share. At the end of the day when the students have boarded their buses to leave, revisit those questions and place them into four categories: Vocabulary, Background knowledge, Schema/conceptual frame, and other.  Take note of where the majority of the questions fall.  Think about what this reveals to you about their understanding of the text.  

I’ve come to believe that I find out more about where their understanding fails by examining their questions than I ever got from checking their answers.  

Lester’s books are on Amazon!

Learn more about Lester Laminack, check out his website!

Follow Lester on Twitter @lester_laminack