June 24, 2005

Best Teacher Ever: Commodore 64

I love computers. I have ever since I saw the Commodore-64 in junior high. There was a thrill of discovery for everything we did. I never knew what I would find on one of those 5 1/4" diskettes.

My dad got into computers back in the day of full room, punch card, ridiculous tubes and all. The thought of a tiny little computer at home which could hold a whole 64 KB of memory (and had no hard drive!) was irresistable to him. He and his buddies swapped computer programs, eventually cracking or writing tools for each other to use to beat the copyrights on the few programs they actually purchased.

As a result, we NEVER had the directions to any of the programs we had -- and there was no W3 to go look things up on just yet. So for me, everything about computers involved discovery. Not only did I usually not know what was on a disk, but how to play the game or use the word processor was a process of explorations. I still remember a game called Bugaboo that we never did really figure out beyond making the little guy hop. When I first played the game, I did my usual: hit every key once until I found out the controls for that game. You died a lot trying to brute force your way through the controls of a game like that, but that was all right. It was part of the adventure. And adventure is rarely as much fun with a clear map as without.

Of course, using that method to figure out the word processor was a lot more tedious and involved figuring out how to access the help menu and then lots of tedious handwriting of directions. Then the directions were typed into the computer and then printed out so the whole family could use them. It was kind of a wacky process.

Flash forward to today when I've got a little flash USB drive that holds 64 Megs of info. 64 MBs of info. That little C-64 seems pretty silly to me now. It couldn't do a whole lot. And what it could do it took forever to do.

But I learned to open up a program and start digging around in it. I learned a little bit about how computers think. That little machine was one of the best teachers I ever had.

I think of my students over the last nine years. I moved from teaching in a "traditional" classroom (desk chairs, a podium and chalkboards) to teaching in a net-worked computer classroom. I was the only instructor at Notre Dame to move my writing class into the computer classroom. Why'd I do it?

I watched first-year students struggle so much with their computers. They couldn't figure out how to do automated page numbers. I had one student who didn't know you could tell the word processor to double-space your paper. That student had been manually hitting return at the end of every line and another return to make the paper looked double-spaced. They knew they hit the save button, but they couldn't find the file unless they opened up Word and used the "Recent Files" list. Learning to use the university webmail program to attach a file gave some of them conniptions.

But the Dean of First Year Studies, who has very recently retired, I believe, insisted that "these kids grew up with computers, they don't need a computer class." Never mind the student, who at the height of the 3.5" floppy disk, tried to put his disk in upside down and backwards; never mind the student who picked up her mouse and placed it on the computer screen and wanted to know why the cursor wouldn't move; never mind the graduate student who couldn't find the "My Computer" icon on his plain and nearly empty desktop.

I felt sorry for my students, truth be told. So many of them struggled with their computers and their minimal computer skills. I'd spend a day showing them the basic ins and outs of Word - changing fonts, font size, color, centering, doing page numbers and indents. All sorts of basic word processing skills. I didn't even get into adding pictures or graphs or integrating with Excel. If we had enough time in a semester and they requested it, I'd even show them some rudimentary HTML.

But mostly, I wanted to teach them to play with their computers as much as I wanted them to play with their writing. I wanted them to explore both. I think those who did begin exploring really got something out of the class. Those who thought I was a jerk for trying to do stuff that "so obviously wasn't about writing," well, they didn't get much out of the class. I never stopped trying to reach those kids, though.

Think what we could accomplish if we could just explore and play a little bit more.

Thank goodness for that Commodore-64. Easily the best $500 my Dad ever spent on anything.

Posted by Red Monkey at 10:33 AM | Comments (1) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble

June 20, 2005

Secrets

Everyone should read this story of one person's journey - from elementary school to being a 30-something and heading back to school after not finishing high school.

Let me put it this way: I hate inspirational stories. They're cloying. They're kinda sickening and they're almost always boring.

Color me impressed. This piece is inspirational without being cloying. Or boring. Or sickening. Instead, it's highly fascinating - a really good read.

Now, when you're done reading it, give me a 500 word essay on "the bully issue."

Posted by Red Monkey at 6:01 PM | Comments (0) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble

June 15, 2005

A Funny to Read and a Bit of a Rant

Okay, so you've got to read this: The Speckled Band. And, if you've ever used Blog Explosion, check out his satirical post on that experience. My lemon Fruit2O nearly took out the laptop -- much laughter abounding.

So, I wanted to write something on education today, but I just got too tired and too depressed to do it justice, so once again, I deleted the thing before it grew beyond a couple of sentences and got totally bitter.

One of these days I'll get around to explaining why parents and high schoolers need to really research what college to attend - and NOT to rely on things like the Princeton Review. I'm sure every generation of teachers feels this way, but it just blows my mind how the standards are falling and how bad grade inflation has really gotten.

"Oh, Johnny tried, Mrs. Curnutt. Can't you just give him a B-? It will help his self-esteem so much if he doesn't get a C again this year."

Meanwhile, Johnny's learned to do less work and get higher grades.

Oh, I know the issue is more complicated than that . . . and I will talk about it when I can manage to not sound so viciously bitter over the whole thing.

Meanwhile, just remember, if you show up to class and turn in something for each of your three major papers, you will pass your comp class at Notre Dame. After all, it's not about the education you earn; it's about the networking opportunities during your four years.
Don't believe me? Here's a quote from their site:

Students who have attended FYC regularly and submitted all major assignments should earn As, Bs, Cs, or Ds only. (Fs are reserved for students who stop attending or who do not turn in one or more of the three Unit Assignments.)

Posted by Red Monkey at 8:42 PM | Comments (1) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble

June 9, 2005

Teach Your Children Well

So, let me see if I understand what the University of Notre Dame is doing. First, their program is structured so that students write three papers over the course of the semester. They write a first draft, have that critiqued by peers and the instructor; then they write a second draft. Again, the draft goes through a critique by peers and instructor and again a revised draft is written. This third draft is critiqued in detail by the instructor, but no grade is given. At the end of the semester, students turn in each of their three papers again, re-written one final time.

Now, I'll admit it: if a student actually tries to re-write the paper, it's nearly impossible to fail the class with this setup. But nearly impossible is quite different from impossible.

What if the student paragraph I posted earlier only changed a couple of words?

Identity has show that genetics can have a key role in the formation of identity. Gene structure will guide the human intelligence. Most of the studies on genetic formation of identity have been through twins. Genetics and identity have a correlation between each other that balance together in unison. Fraternal or identical twins both have physical and mental similarities in genetics, which help compose their identity. Twins can have a different nurturing method used by parents. Parents and twins have adapted a style of nurturing that involves balancing genes. The idea of identity at conception is believed to be the origin of identity especially in the genetics of twins. Twins have shown a role in the genetics in identity.

What if this became:

Identity has shown that genetics has a key role in the formation of identity. Gene structure will guide the human intelligence. Most studies on genetic formation of identity have occurred by studying twins. Genetics and identity have a correlation between each other that balance together in unison. Fraternal or identical twins both have physical and mental similarities in genetics, which help compose their identity. Twins can have a different nurturing method used by parents. For example, maybe one twin is allowed to play sports, but the other one is told to study instead of playing sports. Parents and twins have adapted a style of nurturing that involves balancing genes. The idea of identity at conception is believed to be the origin of identity especially in the genetics of twins. Twins have shown a role in the genetics in identity.

Technically, this is a new draft of the paragraph. If the focus of the class is on the writing process and this is all the revision this paragraph has seen -- through four drafts with critiques from instructor and peers, all of whom point out the logical issues -- should this writer pass?
(NOTE: The student who wrote the original paragraph here actually did do a full re-write on his paper and improved it a great deal. This second paragraph is a fictitious illustration characteristic of "re-writing" that I saw many times while teaching at ND.)

If a student only changes a few words, doesn't address serious issues in the writing and generally refuses to take any comments from peers and instructors AND also refuses to explain WHY none of those comments were addressed (and maybe explain that the writer was trying for a different effect than the one the instructor and peers assumed the writer was attempting) -- should that student pass?

If a student simply re-prints the first draft and turns it in as a second draft, a third draft and then for a grade at the end of the semester while changing 12 words and adding one more sentence, does this mean the student has learned how to write and should pass the class?

Looking at a five-page paper printed out four times might look like twenty solid pages of work - a lot of work for one semester - but how hard is it to hit the print button every couple of weeks? Should that be all it takes to pass a composition class?

Now, let me be perfectly clear here: I don't believe in punishing students with grades. Students should be allowed to disagree with an instructor -- even to disagree with the comments made on earlier drafts. In fact, I think instructors and students should be able to have discussions about what the student was trying to accomplish and the teacher ought to be able to shift the way he or she is evaluating the paper to match the student's goals. (Well, as long as the goals of the class and the assignment are also being met -- we often don't get to pick the exact assignment we'd like in school or in the 'real world.')

But what if the student is a poor writer and never tries to improve throughout the entire course of the semester?

Should a student fail because he or she is a poor writer? Or should instructors pass the student just for trying - even if that trying is simply hitting the print button four times?

Students who have attended FYC regularly and submitted all major assignments should earn As, Bs, Cs, or Ds only. (Fs are reserved for students who stop attending or who do not turn in one or more of the three Unit Assignments.)

What message does this send to our children?
It doesn't matter what you write or how well or poorly you write. It only matters that you look like you're trying.

Is that true?
Should it be?

Posted by Red Monkey at 5:06 PM | Comments (0) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble

Can't Fail Composition at the University of Notre Dame

Before this fades off their website, take a look at this:
"Students who have attended FYC regularly and submitted all major assignments should earn As, Bs, Cs, or Ds only. (Fs are reserved for students who stop attending or who do not turn in one or more of the three Unit Assignments.)"

You can find it on the Composition website, but you'll need to scroll down to nearly the bottom of the page to find it. The paragraph starts with "There is no grade of incomplete for undergraduates."

More on this soon -- I have a LOT to say about this!

Posted by Red Monkey at 7:09 AM | Comments (0) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble

June 4, 2005

Pillow, St. Louis, Pillow, Butler

The U.S. education system has a great many problems, as most Americans know and as most of the rest of the world has come to realize as well. We've tried various "reforms" of the various systems used in various states. What we really need to do is trash the system and start over from scratch.

I first began trying to "develop" my own education system when I was about ten, so I guess you can say that I've had an interest in this for a long, long time. You see, while I lived in only two school districts during my elementary school and junior high days, I switched schools a total of five times. Kindergarten began with Mrs. Gillespie and Pillow elementary school in Austin. Mrs. Gillespie was encouraging and probably one of the best kindergarten teachers in the world. She used students in a good mood as examples without making students who weren't in a great mood feel bad. She taught creatively and kept things fun for the students, while still teaching us. But even Mrs. Gillespie put some unnecessary rules on some of our learning.

For example, we had to read the little yellow Dick and Jane books. We read during school time and we got to take two books home a night. On the chalkboard was a list of where everyone in the class was in the Dick and Jane series. At the time, it seemed to me like this was great motivation. Of course, I was one of the kids furthest into the series. At least, until I missed two weeks of school for the chicken pox. I wanted to have some of the books at home while I was sick. Nope. I fell behind the "top group." I got back to school and wanted to take home more than two books a night. Nope. The limit was only two. I could never catch up unless David Tapia got sick and missed two weeks of school, too.

Why hold back a child who wants to learn? I was tearing through the books so quickly at school and at home; the books rarely kept me occupied for scarcely longer than it takes an adult to run through the Dick and Jane books.

But it was in first grade that I really figured out that school was damn boring. I got through my schoolwork quickly enough that I would begin working ahead in my schoolbooks. I didn't mind learning; I didn't mind working. I wanted to learn and I wanted to work. But when I was caught working ahead, I was punished. Why? Because one teacher cannot easily adjust for the needs of 25-30 kids. If you've got one kid who needs extra practice with learning how to carry the one when adding 17 and 5, and another kid who has the concept down cold, what do you do? Do you bore the kid who understands? Do you ignore the kid who may be just as smart, but just hasn't gotten this particular concept as quickly? Do you assign lots of busywork to keep the smart kids busy while the others catch up? There's not an easy answer here for the teacher in this situation.

The pattern continued in second grade despite the fact that I moved to St. Louis private school that tracked students into two groups. And here, I discovered another issue. Math finally started to get difficult for me. Not because I couldn't understand it, but because the concepts weren't explained. We began learning multiplication tables near the end of the year, but we were told just to memorize the answers. Now, as an adult, I can understand that there are some bits of math that it is pretty much necessary to have memorized so you can access it fast. But the problem is, you also have to have the concepts down as well. That was what was neglected as I was supposed to learn multiplication. No one wanted to explain how it worked and why we had to "just memorize it." In my case, I got stubborn and didn't really try to work on memorizing it. I lucked out. I hated the private school so much that I moved back to the public school the next year. There, for the first eight or ten weeks of third grade, I was part of a class which probably did the best job of educating me. I don't know that it would be the best system for absolutely everyone, although this is something I will continue to explore.

It was in Miss Burciaga's class that we were broken up into multiple and very fluid groups. While Miss Burciaga had been given some 30 kids who were at all levels of learning, she handled everyone's pacing and intelligence wonderfully. During the first days of the school year, she called us up to the front of the class in small groups and had us read from the reading textbook. Some groups wound up with two or three kids, some with four or five. And if you started reading ahead for any reason (and still did well enough on the comprehension questions), then you began moving up a group until you were with other kids at your pace. If you got sick and missed school, you might drop back a group or two, but as you began feeling better and reading more, you moved back up again. Maybe as "high" as you had been before, maybe not. Ultimately, it didn't seem to matter much to anyone if you were in a particular group or not because the groups were so incredibly fluid . You knew you could change groups if you worked at it. You knew you could make the changes if you wanted to.

Sadly, i had one more elementary school move -- after just about ten weeks back in Pillow elementary, we moved away from Austin to Arlington (between Dallas and Fort Worth - not in Virginia). This school was "progressive." It was an "open concept" school. This meant the school building was one HUGE room. Each grade level was separated from the other by five foot high bookcases on wheels. And each grade level had the teachers' desks in the center of the area facing outward into our class "rooms" which were divided again by the rolling bookcases. The din in the place was incredible. Here, we had five or six teachers who had at least 30 kids to a homeroom. Then, we were "tracked" for math and for language arts. When I got to Butler elementary in Arlington, I was a full book ahead of their "high" language arts group and on pace with their "high" math class. They "tested" me and didn't believe me, my mom or my school records from Pillow and placed me in the second highest groups. I was depressed already for moving away from my beloved Austin and the thought of being moved back to the beginning of the school year in math and even further behind than that in language arts, so with the logic of a depressed third grader, I barely did any work at all for weeks. Finally, I got mad in language arts and started really tearing through my work again. I was quickly moved into the high language arts class. I started working in math, but the math teacher for the high group simply didn't want to add another child to her load and refused to let me move up at first.

Then, she made a tactical error. She announced one day that anyone belonging in the high math class should come over to a certain area. I decided that I belonged with that group and stood up, moved to that area with the other "high math" kids. The teacher looked funny at me and said, "Do you belong here?" simply repeating her mistake from earlier. Defiant as only kids who are sure they've been wronged can be, I replied, "Yes" and sat down. While she would often give me a hard time in class, my grades stayed high and I didn't have any problems keeping up.

The next year we had a boy move into our school district. He was a book ahead in math and nearly the same in language arts. The fourth grade teachers recognized he was going to be bored and rather than punishing him with boredom or forcing him to prove himself, they got him a tutor. Was it because he was a boy and I was a girl that he got better support for his education? Or was it the difference between our third grade teachers and our fourth grade teachers at that school? I have no way of knowing now which it was. Either was likely.

Why do our school systems insist on boring students? Why do we neglect our children's education? Why aren't we as a nation more concerned about really doing something about this issue? Why do we have to focus our attentions on a man who told a group of graduating college students in California that what made this country great was that even C students could be president and that some of these really smart college graduates should consider being bus drivers and janitors because the U.S. needs people to do these things.

More importantly, what can we do to improve the system as a whole?

And why aren't we doing more?

Posted by Red Monkey at 9:11 AM | Comments (0) | Why Johnny Won't Learn and Mrs. Curnutt Is Tired of the System | Stumble