A Student-Centered Approach to Teaching a Novel

This past October, I went to the iNACOL conference in
Orlando, and spent three days in the humid periphery of Disneyworld learning
about blended classes, disruptive innovations, project based learning, place
based learning, student agency, personal pathways, individual assessment and of
course plenty of ways to leverage technology in personalized learning.  I even checked out the virtual reality booth
at the exhibit hall and a coding booth that involved programming robots.  I took pages of notes and felt like I was
bursting with ideas for how I could bring some of this back to my classes.
It is easy to get overwhelmed at conferences, but if I were
to synthesize what I got out of the iNACOL conference, it would be a renewed
faith in the concept of student agency. Over the years I have attempted to give
students choice in my classes by letting them select their own outside reading
books, giving them options for projects, or giving three essay prompts to
choose from instead of one, but I have come to realize that true student agency
is much more comprehensive than offering options.
When students are given a high degree of agency, the
traditional teacher-centered classroom model is blown up.  Metacognitive awareness is central to the experience.  Students are given the opportunity to
determine how they are going to learn the material best and how they are going
to demonstrate mastery.  The teacher is
no longer instructing towards the middle of the class, creating content that
reaches the most students possible, but is collaborating with every single
student.
With three weeks left in the semester, I decided to try
teaching the book Old School in my
English 4 class by giving my students complete autonomy.  Before assigning the novel I took a class
period to brainstorm with my students (seniors, who have years of experience
with ways that novels are taught in high school) to get feedback on what has
worked most effectively for them when they have read books for English
classes. 
The typical approach, in my classes and many English
classes, is to assign reading deadlines to get through the novel.  With each deadline there might be some type
of reading quiz or assessment.  While
everyone is reading the novel at the same pace, I always create activities or
projects that build context and promote deeper understanding of the different
sections of the book.  At the end, there
is almost always an essay.

After talking to my students, I wondered what would happen
if I put it in their hands, and gave them everything ahead of time.  So I wrote a very basic explanation of what
we would be doing with this book and gave it to them before we started
reading.  I told them that they were
responsible for doing the following three things:  having an authentic reading experience,
making connections between the novel and something outside the scope of the
novel, and producing a piece of writing that demonstrated their understanding of
the novel and made relevant connections to the world as they know it.  There would be no reading quizzes, no
lectures, no context-activities, and no prompts for the essay.  This would be their final exam for the
semester.
I also told them that the goal was to demonstrate mastery of
reading the novel and in their piece of writing, and that they would be
assessed on how close they came to mastery for the work that they produced.  Our classes would no longer be structured
with activities that I created, but every day that we would meet, they would be
responsible for determining the best use of their time.  I also told them that since it is a blended
class, only half the class would report on any given day, and that I would be
meeting with every student individually and taking notes on their progress.
This made me extremely nervous, letting go of the reigns
like this.  The book is only about 200
pages, but I suspected it would not exactly be a high level interest book for
many of my students.  I assigned this
Monday of Thanksgiving week and required that my students post a response on
Schoology by Sunday night describing their progress with the book so far.  When I checked Sunday afternoon, only one
student had posted.  I had a brief moment
of panic and scrambled to come up with a back-up plan which mostly included the
types of lessons and activities that I have always given when I teach
books.  I started to doubt this
idealistic notion of agency, and wondered whether my students could actually handle
such academic freedom.  I checked Schoology
again Sunday night, and when I saw that only about eight of my 50 students had
responded, went to bed feeling defeated.
But when I woke up the next morning, I checked Schoology
again to find that the majority of my students had submitted reflections.  I tampered my joy a bit though and wondered
what the content of these responses might be. 
After all, this is not a novel I chose for this class, and would not be
one that I would expect high levels of enthusiasm for.  But as I read through the responses, I was
surprised by the authenticity of the responses, and by the fact that students
were largely enjoying this book.  One
girl, who has never struck me as being a motivated reader, said that she had
gotten completely caught up in the book and was taking a break to write her
response, and anticipated that she would continue reading after she submitted
her reflection.
In the next few weeks, I met with every student individually
several times, discussing the book, their progress and their ideas for the
final written piece.  This is the beauty
of having a blended class where I can have small groups of students come every
day.  For the final reading assessment, I
met with each student individually and discussed the novel.  I looked at their annotations, and mixed up a
variety of questions from the book, trying to probe and ensure that they were
not simply reciting a second-hand plot summary. 
By the end, I was surprised to find that most everyone had read the
book, and that many attributed that to the fact that they were given the
freedom to read it independently, at their own pace.  One of my senior boys told me that this was
the first book he had actually read in high school, and that up to this point,
he had managed to get through all of his English classes by using internet
resources.
When we came back to school last week, I wanted to probe
deeper into this, so I gave my unit evaluations for the two novels my class
read last semester, The Bean Trees
and Old School.  While we spent months on The Bean Trees completing a variety of assignments along with the
reading, only 23% of my students read the entire book.  Almost 37% stated that they read internet
resources instead of authentically reading. 
My Old School evaluation, on
the other hand, indicated that 92% of my students had read the book in its
entirety.
I have been thinking about this for a few days now, and the
skeptical side of me remembers that this is a small sample size (two classes),
and that these are two very different books. 
Students might have been more inclined to like Old School more than The Bean
Trees
.  Also, there are scant
internet resources on Old School, so
this probably had some influence on the data. 
But I think it is fair to be optimistic when there were such drastic
results with the same group of students in the same semester with the same
teacher, but two extremely different approaches.  Many of the comments that my students gave in
the Old School evaluation stated that
they appreciated being able to complete the work at their own pace.  Also, these are seniors who will need to be
able to complete their college work independently next fall.

I know that some classes and novels need more scaffolding
than others, but there also seems to be great power in student agency and
autonomy.  For most of my teaching
career, I have been an effective teacher-centered instructor, but I am
beginning to believe that I can be more effective when I create more
student-centered learning environments. 

Inverse Trigonometric Functions War

The ability to evaluate inverse trigonometric functions correctly is a fundamental and critical skill that a student needs for Calculus. For whatever reason, many Precalculus students struggle to master this skill and many who do master it do not retain it by the time they take Calculus. I decided to step outside the box and have my students play a game that would force them to make more sense of the range of answers that can be found when evaluating inverse trig functions.
I had read on some math blogs about teachers using the card game War to help students evaluate logarithmic functions and so I thought I could make this work for my situation. War is a card game in which each player gets half of the deck of cards. For each turn, the players each flip a card. The player with the higher valued card wins both cards. The player with the most cards at the end wins the game. I adapted the game with homemade cards that had all the inverse trigonometric functions that use angles found on the unit circle. I prepared a visual aid that diagramed the allowed range of answers for the six functions. I divided the students into groups of three: two players and a referee. I explained the rules and then let them play.

It was slow at first while they got used to the rules and got comfortable with evaluating the functions. I circulated the room, checking in with students and responding to questions. It was very apparent to me just how many students really didn’t understand what they were doing. Group by group, I responded to their questions. As soon as one in the group understood, I would leave that person to explain to the others. Slowly but surely, they started to “get” it.

While I doubt that anyone would claim that this was a particularly fun game, I had many students tell me on their way out how much this helped them gain confidence with these functions. While I was circulating around the room I also witnessed many “aha” moments where students for the first time seemed to grasp the purpose of evaluating these functions. I’m not sure how I will be able to assess how well this extra day and extra activity really served to improve their understanding and retention of the subject, but subjectively I conclude that this was definitely time well spent.

The Shame of the Scantron

So, I was running my Scantrons through the machine in the faculty workroom, and a colleague came in and sarcastically said “You still give Scantron tests?” What I should have said was “Obviously. You see me running Scantrons through the machine. Don’t you?” But, I didn’t say that; instead, I started defending all of the reasons that I continue to assess student learning using this format. This blog is me, an English teacher, defending why I continue to test reading and reading comprehension using the Scantron.

Once the go to format for testing, multiple choice/matching/true and false type questioning is clearly frowned upon in the world of 20th century learning. I get it. There’s no need to test facts when students can easily Google anything they want to know. Further, it can seem ridiculous to test  students about details of a novel, especially since the essence of a novel is not found in mere details.  My initial response to this argument is that some students do really well on a multiple choice/true and false/matching type test. I have had many many students over the years earn Bs on their essay assessments, but they earn As and even 100%s on Scantron reading comprehension tests. For the students who are really good at letting me know what they know by using this format, I hate to take it away. It’s just like when I assign an art centered project as an assessment for reading comprehension. Some of the more creative students do really well on this type of assessment, and they may not excel at other types of assessments. I want to give as many students as I can the opportunity to show me what they know using the format that they like. Also, I believe in assessing students in multiple ways for every unit.

There’s more to it than that though. Giving a Scantron test is an efficient way to keep students accountable. English students are regularly assigned pages of reading, much of which needs to be done outside of class on their own time. News Flash: reading homework is regularly low man on the totem pole. Ask any student what two subjects’ homework they work on first, and they’ll admit that the STEM classes get top billing. Our society is currently pushing STEM. You don’t see us actively raising funds for a new humanities building, do you? This trend in education trickles down to student understanding of what class’s homework is most (and least) important to work on, especially when their time is limited. And with novel reading homework, students have an easy out. They can Spark Note or Schmoop the summary of any given novel we teach, and in no time they will get the gist of the assigned reading. This is where the Scantron test works. Students are questioned about details from novels, which can not be easily answered by reading online summaries of the books. Futhermore, many types of Scantron type questions that are asked require students to have read the novels closely. This means that students who know the novels well, have not only read quickly, they’ve read without simultaneously Snapchatting, and they’ve annotated the text for ideas and for passages that they love. We continuously promote annotating as a skill, because we know that in order to really know something and to write about it, first one must have a relationship with what they’ve read. The best way to create a relationship with a text is through not only reading it, but annotating it well also. I know what you’re thinking: Grade the students on their annotations then. I do that from time to time too. As a matter of fact, I give multiple formative and summative assessments throughout a unit. The Scantron test is not the only tool in my toolbox. But one main reason I continue to give a Scantron type reading comprehension test is that it keeps students accountable for the reading.

Finally and I feel ashamed to admit this, giving a Scantron test is quick. I can give the test in one period and by the end of the day the scores are in the grade book. I shouldn’t feel too much guilt about this though. I grade about 1100 writing pieces a year. That’s about right. I have approximately 135 students this year, down about 15 from last year, and each of those 135 students writes 8 formal pieces for me over the school year. That doesn’t include short answer reading comprehension quizzes, class blogs or reflective work. So, I don’t feel so bad giving an assessment that takes me only one hour to grade, analyze and input. Also, students are used to instant gratification. Where it might take me up to two weeks to read, comment on and assess an essay, a Scantron test allows the students to see how they’ve done almost immediately.

It should be noted that in the English department, we weight our grades and the most heavily weighted category is the writing category, because we believe that learning how to write is the most important skill that students work on in our classes. The reading category (where the Scantron test scores go) is weighted at a lesser percentage than writing by 20 percentage points. Therefore, the Scantron reading comprehension test is mostly equivalent to two smaller formative reading assessments like a cartoon strip or a short answer reading quiz; it’s equivalent to two homework assignments.

Circling back to the colleague who inspired this blog. This person was mostly kidding me, and I really wasn’t offended. I think it’s fun to mess with colleagues from time to time too. Also, they (purposeful neutral pronoun) only said what I’d been thinking about for quite some time. But here are my questions to you: Do you still give Scantron tests and if not or if so, have you thought about its pros and cons as much as I have? Do you want to add to this conversation?

Lectures, lessons, and student-centered learning

            I think, in hindsight, I performed a
little educational research last week in my classroom. Nothing groundbreaking,
by any means. Nothing new … not even to me. I heard about all of this last year
in my Ed Psych class and throughout my teacher credentialing program. (You
remember constructivism? Piaget, Vygotsky, and friends?) And I know the concept
is all around us as we design the new STEAM center and the future of
Carondelet.
            But for me, last week was valuable
because I experienced a tangible reminder that what they say is true:
student-centered learning is more effective than teacher-centered. I believed
it in theory; I even believed it in isolated experiences. In fact, every time I
plan my lesson to be student-centered, I see the rewards. Here are some
isolated examples:
            For our freshmen, Kate Cutright and
I planned a round-robin sort of discussion for student groups to rotate to
different tables in order to discuss seven different prompts. Within the
groups, there were four rotating roles to be sure that every student would
participate. Another student-led project I conducted this year was a
problem-solving exercise in teams, where students had to choose from a
selection of picture books to find examples of literary devices. Each book
could only be used once, and not every book contained an example of every
device. In both of these examples, the bulk of my teaching was in the preparation;
on lesson day, students guided themselves through their own learning, and they
were actively engaged.

            However, the reality is that I’m not
always prepared. There are times when I choose to grade papers, or catch up on
the reading assignment, or enter grades, or email parents, or maybe spend time
with my family, so I don’t front-load the lesson. I find myself wanting to convey
some important ideas, I have 45 minutes or less to do so, and I slip into a
teacher-centered model.
            Last Monday was one of those days.
Over the weekend, I had read the two chapters of Jane Eyre assigned to my sophomores. Gosh, I love this book. It’s
an important book. I dutifully annotated those two chapters and figured that I
should prepare some notes so that we could have a class discussion on the reading,
in case anyone came with questions. I noticed some key passages I wanted to be
sure to point out. Monday morning, no one had any questions. Come to think of
it, they were fairly expression-less. I slipped into what’s familiar from my
college English major days: I asked students to take notes, and I pointed out
all of those key passages. I asked some questions. The usual star students
raised their hands. By the end, not everyone had been involved. I wasn’t
exactly sure how many students took notes or tuned me out. That was first
period. During fourth period, I tried something slightly different. I shared
some personal stories about my experience in college lecture halls. I told my
students about how I saved all of my notes from college and now use those notes
to help me be a better teacher (ha!). And then I proceeded with the lecture.
            I am being hard on myself; I tend to
self-evaluate and see the worst. Let’s look at the positives of Monday’s lesson.
Okay … I felt a connection with my students, and I could see some genuine
interest out there in the hazy lecture hall of Room 27. I think I saw some
students realize how important it is for Jane and Mr. Rochester to establish
mutual respect despite their class differences. Monday’s lesson hopefully
conveyed my enthusiasm for the material; and I think it’s important for
students to witness that fire in the teacher if they are going to buy in. And hopefully,
I shed light on a difficult text for some of the struggling students. Hopefully,
I modeled close reading for a deeper understanding. But most of this was about
me.
            I went to lunch feeling disappointed
in myself. All right. I know I can do better, and it just so happened that I
had already planned for a student-centered discussion on block day, thanks to
Lisa Xavier, who had shared with me about hers the last week. I chose three
relevant topics and divided the class into three groups. Each student needed to
find a quote from Jane Eyre based on
her topic, and she needed to write some analysis on that and come ready for the
discussion.
            Block day gave my students a chance
to shine. As each group discussed their topic in fishbowl style, I stayed
quiet, took notes, and marveled at their insights and enthusiasm. I could feel
the energy in the room. Each student participated multiple times. During the
debrief session, the “audience” on the outside provided constructive,
thoughtful, feedback to the group in the fishbowl. I told them I was so, so proud;
and I could see they were proud of themselves. One of my students who sometimes
falls asleep in class was a rock star self-appointed facilitator and received a
lot of positive reinforcement from the class. Another struggler told me it was
fun and she wants to do it again. For homework, every student is writing a
self-reflection about her contribution to the discussion. Jane Eyre is a challenging text, and it was gratifying to listen to
my students analyze it, to share their opinions, and to make connections and
predictions.
            This is not rocket science. I’ve
conducted fishbowls and Socratic seminars in the past, also with positive
feedback from students. Like I said, I have experience with student-centered
learning, and I was convinced about it intellectually a long time ago. It’s
just that this week, I saw the contrast between
Monday and block day. Same novel, completely different energy in the classroom.
So, that’s my little retrospective experiment. Not even intended; it just
happened and I noticed the difference. It won’t be published in the latest journal.
But here’s the value: I wasn’t told about it; I learned by experience–and
isn’t that better than learning from a textbook or lecture?