Those nasty notifications on Google Docs

Google Docs I still don’t know why the new Google Docs doesn’t allow us an easier way to turn off notifications.

Here’s the problem: If I write you a comment on your Doc and then you write me back, I get an email. Same thing happens if you “resolve” the comment (which means make it go away).

That’s a lot of emails. If I’m collaborating on a shared document, I don’t need a reminder every time someone else makes a change.

Sure, I can change my notification settings, but they’re not global. That means that I need to repeat the same step for every document I get.

This becomes a huge problem when you’re a teacher. One hundred students means 100 essays means 100 times to change my notification settings.

Worse yet, notification settings (as far as I can tell) are per document per user. That means I can tell my students to turn off their notification settings, but that does nothing for me. I have to do the same thing with the same document.

I’d much rather have the default as “all notifications off except @ mentions.” This would mean that a student could send me an email by tagging me in a comment.

Otherwise, it’s going to be a long year remembering to turn off notifications or deleting the thousands of emails that indicate that students are reading my comments and making them disappear. 

What’s unfair about AP English, #2

 A week or so ago, I wrote about why AP English is unfair for my students. In short, my students might work harder than their privileged peers, yet pass the AP exam at a lower rate.

I’ve thought about inequities in education and society for a long time. After all, I’m a teacher. But there’s something about this year that’s making me angrier. Maybe it’s that I’m working with seniors right before they enter college. Or maybe it’s that I’m teaching AP, which offers a “stamp of approval” by dominant culture of academic excellence.

Whatever is it, my senses are heightened. Everywhere I look, there’s unfairness.

Here’s another one: the digital divide. Most of my students have computers with Internet access at home, but three do not. Two of those three are currently failing the class.

A decision: Lower my standards for these students? This happens too often. So that can’t work.

Yes, I can tell students to suck it up and deal. Go to the library — late at night, in a sketchy neighborhood, and only while it’s open, which varies day to day. Or go to a friend’s house — far away, on the bus, and once you’re there, be nice because you’re preventing your friend from finishing her homework. Or stay late at school — past the time teachers leave, instead of going to work or participating in sports.

Sure, I’ve had students figure it out. One lived 20+ miles away, worked full-time, took care of her brother, crammed in homework on the train, and just graduated from Columbia.

But why do we require our students to take on Herculean tasks? Why must they be Superman? It’s much better if my students could go home and have access to a computer without so much stress.

That’s why today I posted on Facebook a request for old computers. Already, I have two leads, which makes me happy. But even if I get the computers, that’s only half the problem. Getting free or cheap Internet access is the much trickier part. Luckily, there are some internet service providers in San Francisco who might help me out.

But until that happens, my students will have to fend for themselves. 

Forced fun in AP English

 Student of the Week continues to be a great feature of AP English, but more is needed to keep the class fun. In between all the work and the criticism and the feelings of being overwhelmed, we have to fit in some humor and levity.

I call it “forced fun.”

Every student takes on a leadership role each quarter to make the class more enjoyable. Some are big jobs and take planning; others are more silly and spontaneous. Here are some that we’ve come up with so far:

1. Crazy Number Person. I ask for a number, and the Crazy Number Person gives me one. These numbers help me organize class activities or determine which student I’ll call on next.

2. Photographer. This student takes pictures during class and then posts them to our class website and Facebook page.

3. Field Trip Leader. This student organizes a literary field trip for the class. We’ve already had one informal trip (to see Khaled Hosseini, author of Kite Runner, speak), and one is coming up. It’s crucial to get out of the classroom.

4. Birthday Coordinator. Whenever it’s a student’s birthday, the birthday coordinator makes sure that person is celebrated. I’m horrible at remembering birthdays, so I’m grateful for this student’s commitment.

5. Breakfast Leader. Every Wednesday, our class meets in the morning, so this student gets her peers to sign up once a semester to bring a snack. Food is really important in building community.

6. Raffle Picker-Outer. Whenever there’s a raffle for a prize, the raffle picker-outer chooses the lucky ticket from the cup. But scandal may ensue: During the last raffle, the student chose himself!

There are more leadership roles, and some students still need to figure theirs out before the middle of October, when the quarter ends. (I grade them!) If you have ideas for “Forced Fun,” please let me know! 

Not in class? You’d better text me.

 Maybe my students think I’m crazy.

“No, really,” I say. “If you’re ever not in class, you have to tell me. You have to text me.”

For some students, this seems like a reasonable request. Mr. Isero expects me to be in class, so if I’m absent or late, I should let him know why.

Other students, however, need convincing. This means reminders, second chances, interventions, consequences, and stern talkings-to. This also means clearly explaining to my students, sometimes repeatedly, that I care about them and their education.

Since I implemented my new you-have-to-text-me policy last year, student attendance has been way up. Most impressive is that tardies have plummeted.

I think it’s been working because every attendance event is something to talk about. When students are absent or late and don’t send me a text, they know I’ll follow up to question their character and to reiterate my interest in their success.

On the other hand, when students do in fact text me, they’re acknowledging that they’re missing something valuable. Yes, the text is quick, but it says, I know you notice me. 

A successful student: Grit over intellect

 I was never the smartest student. But my parents always told me to try my best. So I did, maniacally so. From school to baseball to piano, I made sure to work hard and dedicate myself. I (think I) turned out all right.

A recent article in The New York Times suggests that grit and other performance character traits matter more than intellect in predicting academic success. Writer Paul Tough cites research by Angela Duckworth, who finds that outstanding achievement emerges from students who combine “a passion for a single mission with an unswerving dedication to achieve that mission, whatever the obstacles and however long it might take.”

This kind of character is rare. Our fast-paced, judgmental society discourages us from persevering. It’s much easier to give up on something or to avoid it than to stick it out.

So far this year in my English class, my students are working extremely hard. But several of them, frustrated that their skills have not yet significantly improved, have begun to question their ability and now wonder whether they can achieve.

This is very normal. After all, they’ve been good students for a long time. They’re used to success. They’re used to working hard and getting rewarded. It’s no fun to work hard for no reward. Besides, their teachers have long praised them, sometimes for above-average skills. It’s no wonder that my students are experiencing dissonance.

What to do?

My typical response is to stay positive, do some cheerleading, and note students’ specific growth. This works over time but requires calm and rational thought. There’s no calm when you get your fourth F in a row on an essay you stayed up past midnight to perfect.

So my next step is to incorporate into my class some of the character education Tough writes about in his piece. My belief is that if students trust in themselves, in each other, and in me, they’ll trust the process, and they’ll practice the grit necessary to accomplish something extraordinary.