New Perspective

     Over the past few weeks, I've been completely engrossed in Geraldine Brooks's March. It's based on Mr. March, the father in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, and Alcott's actual father, Bronson Alcott. When I was younger, I read Little Women and even the lesser known Little Men; I watched the movie of the former with Winona Ryder and Christian Bale and the PAX TV channel series of the latter. In college, I read a young adult biography on Louisa May Alcott written from Louisa's perspective, and I watched the PBS special about Louisa's life, her family, and her writing. Just a few months ago, I enjoyed the musical version of Little Women as performed by students at the high school. I have always loved the March family. After reading Brooks's People of the Book, I was ecstatic when I found out she'd written this novel as well. And Brooks didn't let me down.

     As always, I loved hearing the story I know so well from a new perspective. I was very intrigued by the reasons Mr. March gave for heading off to the Civil War at an unusually late age, why the March family found themselves in the poverty we know from the original novel. I enjoyed getting to know Marmee before the birth of the little women and better understand the woman who told Jo that she, too, fought to keep her temper under control. Having read and watched biographies on Louisa and the entire Alcott family, I constantly drew connections between the stories and the histories, wondering what actually passed through their minds and if these fictional thoughts were anywhere near their true ones. I was thoroughly excited when an unexpected narrator entered the scene for a handful of chapters in the middle. This novel adds a new dimension to the March story that Alcott never intended to divulge, but that fed my appetite for more that I hadn't realized existed until the opportunity presented itself.

    Many of the passages about teaching stood out to me, especially because I finished the book as I finished my fifth year of teaching. In history, Bronson Alcott rubbed elbows with the Transcendentalists, and he was passionate about the educational process. In the story, Mr. March said that while teaching, his "objective was to awaken their [the students'] hearts to the ideas dormant there, rather than implant facts into their memory" (p. 142). Here he speaks of teaching those who were considered contraband during the Civil War -- people who had been slaves but whom the Union forces had freed; although living a lot far different than my students, I feel a responsibility to accomplish the same goal. I see so much more to accomplish with my students than teaching them the correct steps of graphing a polynomial equation, much more that involves what is within my students already. Marmee reminds Mr. March, too, that, "[t]he education you gave to so many, that cannot be taken away" (p. 257). Not only do I take comfort in that thought, but I also think back to the earlier quote...the content we tackle beyond standards-based instruction is probably the material that will remain even when the quadratic formula has faded. And this is what I need to remember on the difficult days, on the days when I wonder what exactly is going on in my classroom. In all I do, I aim to awaken dormant ideas about students' self-perception, students' perception of one another, and students' perception of the rest of the world.

     As the army chaplain, Mr. March also deals with matters of the spirit, as did Mr. Alcott in his day. Here, though, Brooks speaks through the character Grace Clement, a former slave who faced demons Mr. March can hardly fathom. She tells him,

        "I do not ask your absolution. I simply ask you to see that there is only one thing to do when we fall, 

        and that is to get up, and go on with the life that is set in front of us, and try to do the good of which 

        our hands are capable for the people who come in our way. That, at least, has been my path" (p. 268).

Sometimes I read a passage and find myself thinking, "This is my heart. These are the words I've been looking for to describe my aim." I suppose that is why I preferred majoring in English literature and not creative writing; I take great comfort in knowing someone else out there feels or thinks the way I do. This is how I felt when I read Grace's clarification for Mr. March. As a recovering perfectionist, the standing back up part is most difficult, but focusing on doing good for others does help with the motivation to do so.

     As I read the final pages, I was sad to leave the March family once again. I'd slipped back into their world, unexpectedly, and I enjoyed it as I always have. I think I understand Laurie a little bit from the original novel, who frankly tells Jo that he simply knew he was supposed to be a part of their family; Brooks's novel has helped me do just that once again.

Next up, my report from China!...

Words by My Students

     I've been reading a lot of words written by my students lately. No, much to my kids' relief, I did not include essay responses on their Algebra II final exams the way I do on their unit summative assessments. Instead, each year on the last day of class, I ask my kids to give me feedback. My first year, I made slips of paper that said, "Something Ms. Arnold did that helped me learn," on one side, and, "Something Ms. Arnold could do differently to help me learn more," on the other. That first year, I stood in awe of the responses I received; very few mentioned specific learning activities, but many mentioned thoughts and attitudes that I encouraged in my classroom. After taking a Quality Tools class the following summer, I started making the feedback slips into Plus/Deltas -- "plus" for the positives, things that went well, and "delta" for the changes that could be made. I always tell my kids that the feedback can be anonymous, unless they want me to know the comments came from them. I give these slips to my students periodically throughout the year, sometimes asking for feedback on a specific unit or activity and sometimes opening the floodgates and asking for any comments they'd like to share.

     My first general request like this is usually the last day of first semester, and the feedback this past December was mixed. Some students liked the way I ran the class; some students gave excellent ideas for ways I could change my approach second semester; others took advantage of their anonymity and gave me  negatives instead of deltas -- things they didn't like but for which they had no solutions. Now, in my mere five years of teaching, I recently realized that the mid-year feedback is always the harshest; I've often said that the majority of my students aren't "my kids" until a few weeks into second semester. I'm not sure why, but the feedback this year certainly supported that theory. Knowing this doesn't change much for me, though...even though the pluses and deltas outweigh the negatives by a landslide, even though I know I'll win over some of these students in a matter of weeks, even though I know that some of their complaints attack what I know are effective teaching practices and are merely uncomfortable because they are unknown, even though I know some are simply bristling at the disjoint between their personal expectations and the high ones I set for all my students, even though I know I'm not supposed to be their friend...I still struggle with the knowledge of those negative thoughts.

     But, life and lesson plans go on, and I made changes second semester that my kids suggested, continued practices that they appreciated, and, I admit, dug in my heels and continued some practices I know are worth it even though some students spoke out about them.

     And then May arrived, and it's not quite like the arrival of spring in Bambi. Yes, there is love in the air with prom around the corner, and yes, there are flowers in corsages, but that's the end of the analogy. There's also stress of ACT and other standardized tests as well as the most intense apathy of the year constantly colliding with the knowledge that final projects and exams require more than a little effort. Sometimes I can't tell who is more affected by these two stressors, teachers or students. And smack in the middle of it all, I found in my school mailbox two essays written by two of my students. About me.

     Two of my students had taken time out of their busy lives to nominate me for a "Those Who Care" certificate, which required that they write 50-100 words about how I make a difference. Needless to say, reading both makes me tear up every time I read them. And yes, I've read them several times. I was floored by the details they included, the things I do daily that apparently have far more impact than I realized.

     A few days later, I handed out my end-of-the-year plus/deltas, and I again faced an awesome surprise. The plus/delta/negative ratio changed drastically from December. Many students told me that the environment we create, the activities we complete, and the discussions we have about learning and success made it a class they will miss. A few kids even told me I made the class fun. Yeah, me, I make Algebra II fun. Booya.

     Some of the most inspirational comments, in both the essays and the plus/deltas, talked about the discussions we hold at the end of each chapter, discussions about the data that our assessments give us about the learning that occurred, about the practices that fostered learning, and about how we will change to improve as we move on. These discussions are a new component to my routine, and I was ecstatic to hear that students found them not only worthwhile but also motivating.

     So, as I end my fifth year of teaching, I'm looking back on all of the student quips that I've recorded, all the notes and unique plus/deltas I've received, and now the two short essays my students wrote, and I am glad. I am glad to know that I am doing exactly what I should be doing. I am indeed making a difference in students' lives, in my kids' lives. This will certainly be material I read again and again.

     I hesitated to write this post, even though it's been on my mind for several days. I was afraid it would seem that I'm simply "tooting my own horn," bragging about my sense of success. Although I like to share my happiness with those around me, that is not the drive behind this post. I want those who happen to read this to know that despite all that we hear in the media about our current educational system, classrooms with caring environments that foster learning -- both of standards and of life lessons -- do exist. Moreover, not all teenagers hate school and spend all of their time texting and facebooking, ignoring their responsibilities to do their part to better themselves and society. If you need proof, just talk to my kids.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. ~ the Prayer of St. Teresa