Managing my student Kindles

 I have six Kindles in my classroom (thank you, donors!), and my students love them. They read much more now, and they take care of the devices.

Managing my Kindle library, however, is not easy.

There are two things that make things difficult:

1. I get books from a variety of sources: Amazon, Project Gutenberg, the public library, and more.

2. It’s not easy to organize your books (especially into collections) from Amazon’s Manage Your Kindle page.

My goals this year are to expand my Kindle e-book collection (from 75 current titles) and to get better at managing it without too much stress.

To do so, I’m using Calibre to house my collection and Kindle Collection Manager to organize my books.

Here’s what I’ve done so far:

1. I’ve aggregated all my books into my Calibre library.

2. I’ve made a “master Kindle” with Kindle Collection Manager, which places all the books into the right collections.

From now on, this is what I will do:

1. When I get a new book, I will immediately move it to my Calibre library.

2. Then, I’ll share it with the six student Kindles over email. Note: This sometimes doesn’t work, but I don’t want to collect Kindles from students every time I get a new book. I’ll have to think about this more.

This process will ensure that all student Kindles have all the books, but it won’t automatically organize the new books into the right collections. There is no instant way that I know of to do this, so unless I figure out something, I’ll need to periodically sync up the Kindles.

I must say, this is a bit annoying to me. I wish things were easier. Of course, I’m really appreciative that I have these Kindles in the first place!

Do you have ideas about how to make this process easier? Please let me know! 

Reading closely takes a long time

 My passion — and my nemesis — is teaching reading.

I think reading is the most important thing to teach. Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out how yet.

Reading closely takes a long time, even for skilled readers. To really read something — to look at a text, annotate it, think about it, and reflect on it — takes significant focus, effort, and time.

Problem: Teachers and students aren’t on the same page. We haven’t been truthful and honest with each other about reading.

Students fake-read or rush-read. Reading is private and isn’t turned in, so it’s done last. If there is something to turn in (e.g., reading questions, reading responses, quote analyses), that’s done in lieu of reading. If I’m a student and have two hours to do three hours of homework, reading is the first to go.

Teachers fake-assign reading. To create a sense of rigor, we assign 20-30 pages a night. We either get mad when students don’t complete it, or we convince ourselves they’re reading when really they’re not.

The answer, of course, is to assign less reading and to teach texts more deeply. But my fear is this: If I reduce my reading assignments so that they’re more realistic, am I lowering my standards? More important, would my students return the favor and read more closely, or would they just end up reading even less?

This week, I’m trying an experiment. Over Thanksgiving Break, students must read their first book for their Theme Study. No additional assignments: no essays, no thought journals, no nothing. Just read and annotate.

(Actually, there is one thing: Next Sunday night, they’ll leave a one-minute message on my Google Voice.)

My hope is that my students will read more deeply and feel accomplished. My hope is that I’m sending a message that reading is central and primary to my class — that I value reading.

When we get back next Monday, I’ll do follow up to see if my experiment was a success. Did students read more? Or did my idea backfire?

What do you think? What would you suggest? How do I make reading more social, public, and central to the class?

Teaching proofreading is not easy

 I know all the tricks: Read your essay out loud. Read it backwards. Have someone else read your essay.

These proofreading tips just aren’t working for several of my students this year.

Is it because they’re lazy? Sloppy? Have low standards? Or is it because they can’t spot their errors — or that they don’t know grammar?

It’s probably all of the above. But in order for me to help them improve their writing, I need to figure out exactly what’s going on.

Here are some of my thoughts:

  1. Ask students about their proofreading process. How do they proofread? For how long? How do they know they’re finished?
  2. Observe students proofreading their essays. Suggest different methods and see which ones yield better results.
  3. Assign a standard proofreading process. Tell them exactly what to do and see if the uniformity works.

That’s just a beginning list. I’m inclined to do all three. In fact, I began today with one student. I asked her about her feelings toward grammar and proofreading. (“I hate grammar!” she said.) She then proofread her essay in three different ways, and we talked about which method worked best for her and why. (The method she liked the best — reading a printed copy out loud — also found the most mistakes.)

I like #3, too. My students benefit from specific directions. One idea is to make all my students do the same exact proofreading process. Another (better) idea is for the students to proofread based on their grammar patterns. I know that other teachers do this, but I haven’t figured out a good way to pull this off. Please let me know if you have ideas! 

Penn State: Snitching is doing the right thing

 The Penn State scandal is horrific. Everybody knows that.

But David Brooks brings up an excellent point in his recent New York Times piece: It’s easy to express moral outrage at others, but are we 100 percent certain we’d do the right thing?

I’d like to think I would. But moral responsibility to intervene declines the farther away we are from the atrocity. Plus, it’s easy to say we’d do something; it’s much harder to act.

We saw this with David Cash. We saw this with Richmond High.

To support his claim, Brooks brings up a 1999 study at Penn State:

 Students were asked if they would make a stink if someone made a sexist remark in their presence. Half said yes. When researchers arranged for that to happen, only 16 percent protested.

Sure, a sexist remark is much different from child abuse. Nevertheless, the urge to remain a bystander is pervasive in our society. The urge not to snitch is not just something we think urban kids embrace. The tendency to protect criminals is strong and dangerous.

That’s why I think it’s necessary to talk about the Penn State scandal with our students. The lurid details aren’t necessary and might be inappropriate. But the consequences of a no-snitching culture need to be explored.

If we have bad people out there, and we’re not going to do anything to stop them, then we have a problem. Penn State proves that it’s time for us to be strong with our students that snitching is doing the right thing. 

How to talk to teachers / How to talk to students

 I have four students not passing my AP English class right now. It’s not too bad, actually: They will all pass at the semester (unless they miss a major assignment).

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about why they’re not passing. Yes, their reading and writing skills need improvement. Yes, they sometimes miss assignments because of poor time management or because they feel overwhelmed with their academic and personal lives.

But one thing in particular that I’m noticing is that all of them have trouble talking to me in complete sentences.

They might be unwilling. They might feel uncomfortable. They may not trust me. Whatever it is, it’s a major problem. After all, if I don’t have a free-flowing dialogue with my students, there’s a barrier there. There’s no chance for an academic breakthrough. Plus, I can’t support them effectively.

The good news is, I’ve made a lot of good progress with one of the students. And you know what? She’s doing much better now. She knows I’m on her side. We talk about our different tastes in music and about her favorite songs. She asks for my help. She comes to office hours. I help her with technology. We’ve exchanged texts, emails, letters. We know that we’re in this together.

I wouldn’t say I have a horrible relationship with the other three. We’re cordial, but we’re distant. In fact, when I’m talking with the students, I feel an extremely awkward distance between us. I’m sure they’re feeling the same thing, that they’re talking to an impossibly old man. I ask questions, and I get mumbling back. Sometimes, when I say hello, there isn’t even a response.

In the next few weeks, I’m going to make it a point to try to change up our script. Instead of trying really hard to communicate and instead of feeling weird when things go awry, I’m first going to be direct. I’m going to tell the students that I want to improve our communication. Then I’m going to keep things lighthearted, positive — and as natural as I can.

What do you think I should do?