Over Christmas this
past year, my mom and dad had asked me to clean out some things in my
old room. I am married now, living across the state, and it was time
to go through many of the leftover boxes. I found a binder of my
middle school and high school achievements that my mom had put
together. As we went through the pages, we laughed, cried, and
reminisced. I was especially emotional when I came across a
“Turtle-Gram” from Mr. Hertel's 7th grade math class.
To get a “Turtle-Gram” you had to receive an A on a math quiz or
test. In my year with my Mr. Hertel, I had only received one
“Turtle-Gram”. Though only a certificate on a piece of printed
computer paper, my mom had saved that blessed “Turtle-Gram” for
me.
I grew up being
horrible at math. I was always the student that had to stay in at
recess to go through number flashcards. I was in the “special”
extra class period of math in middle school. The only reason I
passed math in high school was due to my two best friends I shared
the classes with. I always had a tutor and I always ended up in
fights with my dad because he didn't understand why I just didn't get
it. Point being, I often failed at math. Hard. Terribly. Rock
bottom. However, this failure has been incredibly important to me as
I have grown into a woman. I have always been the student that had
to study for hours and put in the extra time with the teacher in
order to get the grade. I often times would fail, especially in
math, but I always felt pride in my work. My parents, my teachers,
and I always knew how hard I worked to get my grade. There was never
a question that I tried my hardest even amidst moments of utter
failure.
In Paul Tough's
article, “What if the Secret to Success is Failure?” he expresses
the idea that overall success can be attributed to students who
bounce back, stay focused, take the extra step, and have true grit.
As I read this article, my heart honestly leapt with joy. At times,
Tough described how students like me are able to succeed. I
wholeheartedly agree, largely because of my experience as a student,
that students who are not gifted with natural brains can succeed in
school. Students can arise from failure in miraculous ways to
achieve the grade, to make the team, or to be the star in the play.
I believe that
failure can be a beautiful thing. I have always been taught that
great lessons can arise from failure. I hold the truth that your
life is often a reaction to the trials and tribulations you can
experience. Your choices of how to react can often define you as a
person. As the great poet Maya Angelou is quoted, “I can be
changed by what happens to me but I refuse to be deduced by it.”
When I taught at my
most recent school, we held a “no zero policy”. Students were
not allowed to receive failing grades in our K – 8 classes. We
could still deduce student work for late work or failure to complete
an assignment. I still tracked down students and contacted parents
to get missing assignments turned in or for incomplete work to be
finished. Still, our students were essentially not allowed to fail.
You could not give a student an F on a homework grade without
approval from the principal. You were not allowed to give a student
an F on a quiz, test, or project unless they had every opportunity to
re-do the work. I understood the administrations perspective on this
policy but I also found it to be completely unfair to the teachers
but most of all to the students. As explained, I grew up in an
environment where you learned from failure. To teach in a classroom
in which students could not receive a deserved F was frustrating. I
often questioned how we were preparing students for the “real
world” with this type of policy.
In an article by
Valerie Strauss of the Washington Post, she explains through a recent
study that, “telling
children that it is perfectly normal to sometimes fail at school can
actually help them do better academically.” The article, “The Answer Sheet”, looked into a 2012 study which explained that
failure in education can be beneficial for students. The findings of
the study pointed out, “acknowledging that difficulty is a crucial
part of learning could stop a vicious circle in which difficulty
creates feelings of incompetence that in turn disrupts learning.”
At the same time,
we can also be held back by failure. As Parker J. Palmer addressed
in his chapter, “A Culture of Fear – Education and the
Disconnected Life”, fear is what can prevent us from a “live
encounter”. This live encounter could be team building with a
colleague, sharing in “a-ha!” moments with a student, or standing
up to the administration to argue a particular curriculum. Fear can
in turn separate us from doing what we love, from achieving, and
connecting. As a teacher, I have many fears. Like Palmer, I fear
certain students or colleagues. But I also fear the upcoming Common
Core standards and their lack of social studies standards. I fear
the choices our legislators may make on merit pay for teachers in
Michigan. I fear racism and and segregation in our school system. I
fear that the students I taught at East Kentwood High School and St.
Paul Catholic School will have wildly different futures because of
where they live in Michigan. Because of these fears, the question
then becomes, do I let these fears stop me? Do I develop a phobia
about my fears and become gridlocked in who I could become as a
teacher?
The obvious answer
is no. But this path is a difficult one especially as a teacher. In
William Ayers, “To Teach”, he describes that as teachers we all
face a “moral choice”. We, as teachers, have the moral choice to
face our fears in the name of the education of our students. As Ayers
explains, “teaching is more than transmitting skills; it is a
living act, and it involves preference and value, obligation and
choice, trust and care, commitment and justification.”
John Green, a young
adult author, recently gave the commencement address to the Butler
University of graduates of 2013. In his address, Green honestly told
the graduates that they would indeed be “a nobody for a while.”
He described the difficulties of graduating college and the
challenges these new graduates would face as young people. Still, he
encouraged them to persevere in the face of possible failure and
humiliation. In closing, Green congratulated the audience with, “we
haven’t left you with the easiest path, I know, but I have every
confidence in you, and I wish you a very happy graduation, despite
the circumstances.”
Green
explained for all of us that there will be challenges but it is all
about how you face them. In education, as in life, there will be
failures but it is always about how you handle each one. I will
always be the optimist, as annoying as that may be to some, but this
viewpoint has made me a better teacher. In closing, I again quote
Angelou, “You
may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it
may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you
are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”
Kaitlyn,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your post. I especially liked the Maya Angelou quote in your closing, and I am considering using it in some capacity in my eighth-grade English classroom next year!
I agree with you that students should not always be sheltered from failure. Natural consequences, as we all know, can be powerful learning experiences. However, a no-zero policy doesn’t necessarily mean a no-failure policy. We have a no-zero policy at our school. For years, before it was made policy, I argued, along with others, about how ridiculous the notion was. I believed that if a student didn’t turn in an assignment, he or she clearly shouldn’t receive any points. It seemed so unfair to those who actually did do their work. However, my opinion of the no-zero policy changed drastically when it was finally explained to me in a mathematical sense. (Sorry! I know you’re not a math person!) The idea is that, in a 100-point scale, the range for all grades but F is about 10 points (ie: 90 – 100 for A, 80 – 89 is a B, and so on.) The range for the grade of F is vastly different from the rest; it is actually a 59-point range (0 – 59). Giving a child a zero for one assignment can actually skew the grading so much that the student may never be able to dig out of that hole. Giving the student a 50 for the missing assignment still records it as an F, but allows the grades to be more fairly averaged. With this system, the final grade should be a more accurate indication of the student’s performance, and that final grade could still be an F. For a better explanation, see Douglas Reeves’ article, The Case Against the Zero, at http://www.leadandlearn.com/sites/default/files/articles/caseagainstzero.pdf.
You also write about a no-fail policy at your most recent school. From your introductory post, it appears that your last school was a private school. Tough’s article talked about how having parents pay for school can be a conflict, and I have to wonder if that may have been at least part of the driving force behind your administration’s policy. Perhaps keeping the “paying customer” happy was part of their concern. However, with schools of choice and charter schools competing with public schools, similar conflicts can and do occur. Making the customer happy isn’t always what’s best for kids.
Thanks for sharing your interesting post!
Susie Shanahan Phillips
Susie,
DeleteYou are exactly right in your mathematical point with the grade and no zero policy. Our admin. had largely adopted the policy in that regard but also, as you pointed out, to keep the customer happy. I taught at a very affluent private school so the voice of parents was also very much behind the policy. I can see so much positivity with the policy but I also had a few bad experiences with it as well. Thank you for the article you posted - I will have to give it a look.
Thanks for responding!
Kaitlin
Hi Kaitlin,
ReplyDeleteThanks for your work here! I enjoyed your post.
There is an underlying integrity and beauty in your writing, one I really enjoyed. I am left wondering more about that Turtle-Gram. What is tied up in that? Is it the struggles with math? Or is there something too about the relationship to the teacher? I've found that so much of our success and failure fears and joys are tied up with our feelings toward those who teach us. That is why the Palmer article is so profound for me too. I literally can't disentangle myself from my students (at least those I am closest to), because their failure feels like mine. It is the same, of course, for my own children.
Anyway, what I am pointing to here is the lovely way you introduced your post through your own experiences, and then the questions raised by your no-zero policy (we will have occasion to discuss this topic again). I'm wondering why students choose to disengage in our classes. Because, what I think I'm saying, is that disengaging from a class project is disengaging from a human relationship with a teacher. Most students will do anything for a teacher they care about--a scary thing, I know (and not necessarily a god one, either). I think Parker is at least partly pointing us in this direction, and I'm wondering if you agree.
How much of your math efforts were developed out of your own pride? Your desire to please your father? Your desire to please your math teachers? I think these are interesting questions that all of us could benefit from exploring more.
Thank you for your beautiful post.
Kyle
Kyle,
DeleteYour questions you posed have been in my thought process all day though I don't think I quite have the answers yet.
I thought more today about Mr. Hertel as a teacher. I hated math but I so desperately wanted to get an A in his class. Partially for my parents who supported me, partially to show myself I could do it, but also for Mr. Hertel who I felt never gave up on me. He has since retired but his sister actually lived next to my grandma in a condo complex. I ran into him one day while I was home from MSU and his face beamed when he heard I was studying to be a teacher. It felt in a way like I was saying thank you to him, and to all my teachers that never gave up on me. Like you said, you can never disentangle yourself from your students. I can't imagine not being wrapped up in their successes and failures. Which can be a good and bad thing.
Your second question asked why certain students chose to disengage from my class. I always try to see the students who are not engaged and ask myself what I can do to motivate them. Each time, it boils down to getting to know them more and finding out what fuels their interests. For some students, this comes easier than others. It's also something that I could sit in a coffee shop and discuss for hours. I needed this prompt so thank you!
Kaitlin