My first attempt at online video chat with students

 Last night, as part of my new “Your Homework is Due Tonight” movement, my students and I (and two adult volunteers!) discussed Siddhartha on my class website using Tinychat.

It certainly was fun. Students popped up on my screen, we said hello, and we waved. There was lots of waving. I was happy: My goal of extending learning time was coming true!

But things got messy once we began the discussion. The system would kick people off randomly. There was serious audio lag. All of the technical difficulties meant we spent most of the time frustrated (in an amused way) and little of the time talking about the book.

It’s possible, of course, that our problems had nothing to do with Tinychat. Maybe they resulted from slow Internet connections or old computers. Still, it got annoying.

One group noticed these problems early and decided to conduct their discussion entirely in the text chat box. This wasn’t as fun but led to the best conversation by far.

At the end of the chat, I told students to comment about their experience. To my surprise, despite all the problems, my students liked it. One student wrote, “I’m pretty excited about this project. I have really high hopes for it.” Another wrote,  “I don’t know why it didn’t work, but I know once everything is good, it will be awesome. This will push me to read 100x more.”

Given that enthusiasm, I want to continue this project, but I need something better for next Sunday. We can’t do Tinychat again. The problem is, There aren’t too many options out there. (Do you know of any?)

I might end up ditching the video and audio aspects and going entirely text-based, maybe with Chatroll. That might lead to a better discussion, but it won’t be as fun. 

A field trip to my house

 My students work really hard, so on Friday, I decided to treat them by having class and watching Beloved at my house.

My home is just five or so blocks away from the school, so it was an easy walk. I provided some cupcakes and Sprite, a student got some popcorn, and we were in business.

Somehow, all 23 of my students squeezed in and fit into my relatively small living room. After a truncated class session (a quick reminder of the homework), we began the film.

The movie was all right — much less powerful, of course, than the book. Nevertheless, the event was a success.

In order for the students to keep trying, they need some fun every once in a while. The more I can emphasize teamwork and togetherness, the more my students will give of themselves. 

Stealing takes just a second. Character takes longer.

 I love the students at my school, and that’s one reason why I’ve stuck around for 12 years.

But unfortunately, they steal a lot of my stuff.

The thieves like tech. This year, it’s been my computer speakers, my timer, and a cheap webcam. Nothing major — nothing like last year, when my netbook was stolen, or a few years back, when it was my video camera.

I try to keep stuff locked up, but sometimes, that’s not the first thing on my mind. Besides, you can’t use computer speakers, timers, and webcams if they’re always locked up in the cabinet.

But this is not a post about how kids are bad, or how I’m frustrated. Rather, it’s a post about the limits of community.

At our school, teachers and students have a strong relationship. There is a sense of family. Our vision focuses on personalization so that students feel valued and do not fall through the cracks.

But no matter how strong the community, it’s not as strong as the power of poverty. Community takes months — even years — to build, but the act of stealing takes just a second. It takes time for us to instill strong character and moral values, and in the meantime, that iPod left on the table sure looks nice.

To be clear: In no way am I pardoning the students who have taken my stuff. It’s their fault, and it’s sad that they’re stealing from me and from their education. Sometimes I think, “If they respected me more, they wouldn’t steal.” But I know that it’s not personal.

Still, it’s irritating to have to buy the same thing twice, especially when it’s something that many richer suburban and private schools provide their teachers. It gets me to question whether teaching is worth it. 

This is what happens when our society doesn’t value reading

 On Monday, my students did their second practice open essay for AP English. There was a prompt, as usual, but instead of having to read a passage of prose or a poem, students got to write about a literary work of their choice.

Even after I told them they should choose a book we’ve read this year — or, in a worst-case scenario, a book they’ve read in a high school English class — one student wrote on The Giver and another wrote on A Child Called “It.”

Yes, these are sixth grade books.

Which got me thinking: There’s not a whole lot of reading going on.

Students, even the best ones, fake read through high school. Reading teacher Donalyn Miller writes about it. So does reading teacher Cris Tovani. As teachers, we see it. And as students, we all did it.

The reason that my two students wrote about middle school books is that those books are probably the last ones they really read, understood deeply, and savored.

We can blame the students, get mad at them. Or we can say it’s the teachers’ fault. But what Steve Jobs said is true, “People don’t read anymore.”

Yesterday, renowned reading teacher Carol Jago tweeted, “My recipe for raising NAEP reading scores: Have every man, woman, and child in the US read 20+ books every year.”

I totally agree. If we want our young people to be skilled readers and writers, and if we want them to care about their world, we need to inundate them with books and magazines, and we need to read like crazy ourselves and not be afraid to talk mercilessly about the tons we read. 

Your homework is due tonight.

 Most homework is due at the beginning of the next class. The teacher assigns something and tells the students, “This is due tomorrow.”

There are many problems with this method. One, it encourages procrastination. Students put off doing the work, save it for the next day, and complete it hastily in another class or at lunch when they could be learning or hanging out with their friends.

Worse, this method prevents teachers from intervening early enough. If I check homework at the beginning of class, what happens to students who didn’t complete it? Do they complete an alternate activity? Do I change my lesson entirely? Or do a I forge ahead and try to catch up those students after school?

To deal with this problem, I’m trying something new. I’m making homework due tonight.

Here’s what I’m doing so far: On Mondays, my students write an essay in class. Part of their homework is to type it on Google Docs before 11 p.m. that night.

So far, it’s worked. My turn-in rate is as high as if I gave them more time. Plus, I know who didn’t complete the homework far before the next class. That means I can text them, intervene, ask them what’s wrong, and even require them to come before school the next day for help. In other words, I close the loop much more quickly, and students see that I care about them so they don’t fall behind.

I’m liking this so much that I began having homework formerly due on Monday now due on Sunday night. As long as students have working computers and Internet (which I make sure of), I can see this practice extending to all nights of the week.

What I’m trying to do is enter my students’ academic psyches outside of class time and outside of school. When they want to stop thinking about English, they can’t. There I am. And there’s work to do.