Change Doesn't Have to be All or Nothing

I remember the first orientation day when I had to face parents and explain to them that their child would probably not have much homework in my classroom.  I remember the fear that almost made me choke on my words, the way I had to remind myself to look up, the way I held my breath waiting for a reaction.  Then I added that instead of letter grades students would get feedback and we would set goals, grades would only show up on trimester report cards and no where else.  By now I was breaking into a cold sweat, my stomach churning, hands were clammy.  Somebody had to react, and then...nothing.  No raised hands, no sour faces, just a quiet wait for what else I had to share. 

Big changes for sure coming from this sophomore teacher.  Big changes that I felt had been necessary for me to be a better teacher and to provide a better education for the students.  Big changes that I had decided to do all at once.  And yet, you don't have to.  Even though I speak passionately about how throwing out grades or limiting homework has been the best decision I have ever made, that is exactly it; it was my decision.  Something that I knew I had to do to restore my sanity, my passion for teaching.  And yet, that doesn't mean it is going to work for you.  Perhaps my ideas are too extreme, or just do not fit with your educational philosophy and that is perfectly fine.  But maybe, just maybe, you would be willing to try it for just one little assignment?

Perhaps you are curious but just not ready to go all out.  Perhaps the idea of limiting homework overall sounds insane but maybe it could be tried for a unit?  Perhaps rather than a letter grade, for one project, feedback could be given or students could assess themselves?  Perhaps just trying something different one time will work better for you?  Perhaps, you might like it, perhaps you wont, but perhaps one time will change your mind?

As a first year teacher, if someone had told me to limit homework, or to get rid of grades, I would have rolled my eyes and not listened.  I would have thought them radical, extreme, or totally clueless.  I was not ready for that type of teaching.  I was not ready to take my teaching in that direction.  That direction had to come from within me, the timing had to be right, as did the purpose.   And that is ok.  It is ok to not embrace what Alfie Kohn says.  It is ok to have faith in whatever one believes is the way to teach, there is room for us all in education.  But perhaps, we should all try something else, just once, and then see if that change is meant for us or not. 

But How Do You Really Get Rid of Homework and Still Know Where Students Are At?

Image from here

One great thing about blogging about what happens in our classroom and to me as a teacher is that I am often asked to clarify how all of this works.  So after my latest post "My Kid iS Drowning in Homework" I received an email from Mr. Feltman asking me some questions.  I figured my answer back might be helpful to others as well, so with his permission here is our communication.

Mr. Feltman wrote;
If you don't mind, I'd like to ask a few questions, that would assist us in this endeavor.

Do you have research or articles backing this up?

What percentage of tests and other activities make up the students grades? (another way to ask is when you switched to "no homework" how was your class grading scale affected?)

How do you assess their mastery of learning (especially poor test takers)?

And here is my answer (emphasis added by me);
I do have research and articles!  A big push for me came from Alfie Kohn's book "The Homework Myth" in which he collects a lot of research about it, and other sources which I have some of here
http://www.diigo.com/list/pgreens/nohomework

I did want to do my research as well so that my principal would back me.

Along with the no homework I am opposed to letter grades, however, my district is not.  So the compromise I have figured out in my room is that students only get letter grades on their trimester report cards, and those  are decided through discussion with me after we have decided as a class what each letter grade means.  The limited homework that does go home is therefore not used to determine grades but rather to determine instruction needs.  So my grading scale was affected in a positive way since students know that if they do work in class and hand it in, we discuss and dissect it and then figure out their needs from there.  There is no final letter-grade assigned to it but rather a common conclusion is given and we determine the path from there.

Tests are part of my formative assessment and students are mostly given a chance to revise and rethink their answers.  I do not want a snapshot of that kid at that time, I want to gauge their overall understanding.  Because the pressure of letter grades (and the finality aspect of a test) has been removed, students also tend to work through assessments much more calmly because they know I am looking for their depth of understanding rather than the pressure to perform right then and there.  This has provided me with a much more comprehensive view of the child's abilities, which in turn I communicate to parents through feedback and observations.

Mastery of learning is shown in many ways.  I always think of what the large goal is or the skill and through conversation or even in-class work I can figure out if they have mastered that skill.  Math tends to be the only area where there is daily work (class time is given for this) but other than that most students are involved in longer projects covering a range of goals from the common core and district standards.

I know giving up homework can seem daunting but once you take the plunge it really isn't that scary.  Sure you will have some parents that do not understand it but if you communicate your intentions clearly; mine are to keep school at school as long as the students work hard, then parents seem to come on board.  Getting rid of homework means I have to be much more on top of class time and what we need to get done with a focus on the larger goals rather than small worksheets where the students just regurgitate information or daily work that could be covered in a long-term project.  


Thank you for the email Mr. Feltman and good luck!

Related articles

• My Kid Is Drowning in Homework - Why Parents Should Be Speaking Up and How (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• 5 Steps to Letting Go and Learning More (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• Gender Bias in Assessment - Even Students Do It, Do You? (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• When Students Speak Do We Even Really Listen? (mrspripp.blogspot.com)

Yes They Grew But Can I Take Credit For It?

We are in the midst of testing season at my school.  The students are doing MAP tests, as well as their writing assessments and we gather to discuss the results, to think of strategies.  To rank, to sort, to file.  To highlight, to shine a light, and to discuss what is working and what isn't.  We pat some teachers on the back - look at that growth, and we wonder what else we can do.  We wonder if merit pay is on the horizon and how we will be ranked, filed, and sorted.  That will be based on these test results on those students gains or losses and yet, can we really take credit for the gains that our students may have made?  Can those test results really be accredited to the teacher?

I often wonder how much growth my students do on their own?  How their brain creates new connections, new ideas, and new strategies for conquering the learning we do?  How much of that growth can be attributed to their parents or home environment rather than the school?  How many of those new connections can really be chalked up to their natural development as a growing child who all of a sudden gets it more?  Or even how much of their growth should be attributed to their first teachers, perhaps in daycare, pre-school or kindergarten?  Those teachers set the foundation, taught those students that school was safe and an environment they could continue their learning in.  Can I take credit for any of the growth shown a piece of paper?  I don't know.

Is the Report Card Obsolete?

Today I was asked what I have against report cards and as I stood there explaining my stance on grades something dawned on me; if we keep parents informed throughout the semester or trimester, do we really need report cards?  After all, I continuously meet with my students and offer them feedback and we set and work on their goals.  I send home more detailed feedback for parents to peruse so then doesn't the purpose of the report card become obsolete?  In fact, the report card may work against our philosophy of students as developing learners since we chunk their development and their learning into artificial calendar dates as determined by the district.   Something unnecessary and just a tad bit redundant.

So I leave with this thought; could we abolish report cards altogether?  Or are they a necessary component of our reporting to students and parents?  Are they simply an overview or a snapshot rather than the entry ticket into college and free pizza?

We Say And Yet

We say we don't want to be micromanaged as teachers and yet then we do it to our students.

We say we want democratic schools, where our voices are heard, and yet we rule our students with an iron fist.

We say we are working as hard as we can and that merit pay will not boost our dedication or our effort, and yet we dangle grades in front of our students to try to incentivize them.

We say we work too many hours as teachers without getting paid for it and yet we assign hours of homework to our students.

We say our voices are not being heard in the educational debate yet we do not listen to the voice of our students.

We say we want to be invited into the educational policy decisions being made and yet we do not invite parents and students into our own decisions.

We say that we want freedom to teach and yet we allow little freedom to our students in learning.

We say we want to teach in our own way, infused with our passion, and yet we expect students to all learn the same way.

We say that we need to time to teach and to learn all of these new things being thrust at us and yet we expect our students to all find the time and to master it at the same time.

We say we want to be respected as individual teachers and yet we show little respect to our students as individuals, expecting them to fit into whatever we have decided the perfect student should be.

We wonder why our students are losing interest in schools and never stop to look at what we do to them.  Education should not be done to them, it should happen with them.  Give back your classroom to your students; give them a voice.

Why Have You Not Given Up Rewards Yet?

I used to be the queen of the awesome board, the gold  stickers, and definitely the special lunches and privileges.  I thought my kids loved it, and sure some did, but after a huge hallelujah moment, I realized the harm I was doing to my classroom and I ended all individual rewards.  So have you stopped handing out rewards in your classroom?  If not here are some reasons why you should consider it.

1. Students don't actually need rewards to work.  Sure they work in the short-run but guess what after a while you have to up the ante and keep going up because it just isn't going to be very effective for long.  And yes, students will take rewards if you offer them, but they will actually also work without the perpetual carrot dangling in front of their noses.    And you won't believe me until you actually try it.   
2. Rewards tend to go to the same kids over and over and over.  We say that it is really up to the students to get the rewards but at the same time we can probably all list the kids that would have a hard time earning one.  So then who are we fooling?
3. Rewards split the students.  If you ever want to create a class of have and have not's in your classroom just hand out rewards; the students will quickly figure out who the "smart" kids are and who are not.  Or worse, who the teachers like and who they don't.
4. Rewards devalue the learning.  By attaching a reward to a learning task, you are telling a student that the task is not worth doing if it weren't for the reward.  That is not how learning should be.  Learning should be fun, exciting, and curiosity driven, not mechanical and focused on the end point.  When a reward becomes the end point, then that is the focus.
5. You keep giving rewards; the students won't work without it.  With rewards you create a culture of "what's in it for me?" and the learning just isn't enough.  And yet the learning and experience should be enough for the child, provided it is meaningful and purposeful.  So set them up from the beginning to earn rewards and soon there will be hardly any extra work or deeper digging into concepts.  If the child knows that they "just" have to do whatever to get a reward, or an A for that matter, then that is what they will do.  The learning stops wherever you dictate it to.
6. The students will argue with you.  My first year students would get upset over which sticker I gave them because in their minds certain stickers were worth more.  A sticker!  Now equate that to extra recess, or books, or special lunches and think of the conflict it creates.  You want to make sure your struggling learners keep feeling more disenfranchised; keep up the rewards.
7. Rewards become the measure of success. If you don't reward a child then they don't think they have succeeded.  No more handing them back a project with great feedback; if that sticker or some recognition isn't attached then it just isn't enough.  I had students collect stickers and notes to showcase to the other students, it became a competition of who could gather more.  It wasn't about what they had learned or how great a project was, it was only about that note.
8. Students lose their voice in the learning process.  When a teacher is the only one deciding on success shown through rewards, the classroom does not belong to the students.  That teacher is therefore the ultimate power within the room and the kids know it.  If you want to create a student-centered classroom, you cannot have such a vast difference in learning authority.  To build the kids confidence they have to have a voice.
9. But they all  get rewarded....  Some schools run weekly recognitions of students for whatever reason, or some classrooms do.  And while this may seem innocent enough, after all, there is nothing tangible tied to it, it still causes jealousy and anxiety.  If a program calls for recognizing every single student for the same things, then why are we recognizing in a public way in the first place.  Wouldn't it be easier just to state the expectations and then tell the kids that we are happy they are all living up to it?  There is no need to create weekly recognition if we are doing our jobs right as educators; making our students feel valued and respected as part of the learning community.
10. Rewards create more work for the teacher.  I was so worried that everyone had been on my "Awesome board" that I kept track = more paperwork.  I also had to make sure that I was eating lunch with all of my students = more paperwork.  I also had to make sure I could justify to parents why one child got a certain privilege and another didn't = more paperwork.  Do you see where I am going?  Rewards and trying to keep it "fair and balanced" creates more work for us without providing any long-term benefits. 

So you may assume that my classroom is one stripped of rewards and recognition, yet it isn't.  My students have parties, except they get them after the fact, when we have something to celebrate.  I don't punish them if they are being rowdy, uncooperative or downright disrespectful,  but we have circles where we discuss our behavior and how we perhaps need to adjust it.  I have high expectations for my students to "represent" as much as they have for me.  We strive to create a learning environment where we all feel comfortable messing up and trying again, because we know that the learning journey is the focus and not just the end result.  So I recognize and I reward but I do it through the learning and the conversations.  I don't have a classroom where students expect things to do their jobs, I have a classroom of kids eager to learn, on some days more than others, but who are always willing to be a part of what we consider our second home; our classroom.  All without the use of rewards.

My Barren Wasteland - A Room Without Rewards

A barren wasteland with no smiling allowed.  A silent classroom with a teacher standing sternly at the front slapping a ruler against their palm waiting for the next kid that dares to actually have a good time.  These are all images people tend to get when I say I do not believe in rewards.

Recently I wrote a post detailing how I reward my students through time rather than extrinsic motivators.  One comment I received asked me whether I believed in whole classroom rewards or not, which is a question I often get.  The answer is no.  I don't believe in the idea of rewards and agree with Alfie Kohn when he states that "Rewards and punishment  are ways of manipulating behavior that destroy the potential for real learning."

I believe that rewards twist the focus of the classroom and provides students with a false reason to want to engage.  I believe that rewards always end up benefiting the same students and some are always left out.  I know some will say that classroom rewards are the answer to that inequity, but ask yourself; how often have you taken away classroom points or not given marbles based on the actions of one kid or just a couple?  I know I used to even though it did not reflect the behavior of the whole classroom.  So you still produce an inequity because the other kids certainly know who it is that makes them lose points and believe me that plays into social situations sooner or later.

The bottom line for me is when we perpetually stick a carrot in front of students faces whether it be through points, letters, or marbles, we are teaching them that they should not do anything without a reward.  So while in the short term it may work to have kids get points to earn something as a classroom, in the long run it is not shaping their behavior to want to behave simply for the greater good.  I need kids that want to be in my classroom and I expect kids to take responsibility for their behaviors.  So I do not make kids "earn" anything in the reward sense, and I do not single out kids.  Instead we celebrate class-wide whenever an occasion arises.   Celebrations are given not earned and they can be based on whether we have achieved something or it is a certain time of year.  Often students and I discuss how we should celebrate something and it is never ever taken away from them.    I never use it is a way to manipulate their behavior or to point out anything.  We simply celebrate, and there is always a lot to celebrate!

So while classroom rewards may seem harmless, think of what it projects.  Think of what message it really is sending the students.  Are we trying to tell them that we do not expect them to behave without some sort of reward?  Are we trying to tell them that society will always reward them extrinsically whenever they do what is expected of them, because if we are, those kids will be mightily disappointed in adult life.

Related articles

• GIve Me Back that Gold Star or How Do You Reward Your Students When You Don't Believe in Rewards (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• We Say it is All About the Kids (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• Rewards: motivating compliance or learning? (coopcatalyst.wordpress.com)

GIve Me Back that Gold Star or How Do You Reward Your Students When You Don't Believe in Rewards

Image taken from here

It used to be when a student did something exceptional, I would place a cute sticker on their worksheet, homework, or test.  I had a drawer just meant for stickers and I lovingly picked new ones for each year in the office catalogs.  I also had Bravo certificates and even great stamps that quickly but distinctly told them exactly how I felt.   Who doesn't feel great after getting a stamp with a big thumb on it telling you "Thumbs Up!?"  Sometimes, when I had a little more time,  I would even write "Fantastic" next to that sticker just so that they knew I really meant it.

If the class was having a great day I couldn't wait to dole out those kid points (if I remembered) so that they could earn another party. Never mind the fact that they knew they would earn it eventually because odds were they would have many more great days than bad days. I thought my kids knew that I thought they were great. I thought my kids understood why they were great.   In fact, I even had an "Awesome Wall" where all the A+ work would go up. Of course, I hoped that all kids would eventually have their work prominently displayed, but truthfully some just never did.

So this year I threw it all away. Well, I kept the stickers but they are for my daughter and husband - he loves motivational stickers on his honey-do lists.   The awesome wall got replaced with a world map, the kid/teacher points disappeared. And I felt so empty; after all, how would my kids know when they did a great job? Wouldn't they miss the stickers and the fantastics? Ummm no. In fact, no kid ever asked me for a sticker this year. No kid ever asked me to explain their fantastic remark because I didn't write them often.  Truthfully I found out that kids really didn't need those extrinsic rewards, that learning still happened, that the kids still stayed motivated, of course some days more than others because guess what, they are kids.

So in throwing out all of my rewards, I found out about the biggest reward of all; time.  This simple concept that I know we have precious little of in a classroom is a hot commodity to everyone.  Now when my kids deserve recognition (which they do every day) I give them time.  Whether it is to take the time to speak to them about their work, or to write feedback.  Whether it is to give them time to work or just time to speak to one another.  How about time for a sledding party?  Or time for 5 minutes of meditation after that awesome assembly?  How about the time to just be a classroom, to just hang out and celebrate all the amazing things happening in our room, in our school, in our world?

So don't feel like giving up rewards will steer your classroom management off course, I believe it will actually heighten it.  I believe that when you push the superficial things out of the way, deeper connections arise and the students become more willing to share, more connected, more motivated.  Finally, by getting rid of rewards I also gave myself the biggest one of all; the chance to connect deeper with my students.  The chance to speak to them more.  The chance to have them all be equals and not labeled and ranked according to grades or homework.  The chance to finally all be "Fantastic."

So I Gave Up Punishment and the Kids Still Behaved

This year I gave up my inane punishment plans.  Out went the sticks, the cups, the posters, the pointed fingers and definitely the lost recesses.  No more check-marks, or charts to explain what that check-mark meant, no more raised voice telling a child they better behave or else.  Some thought I was crazy, I thought I was crazy, and yet, here I am ready to do it again next year.  So what happened?

Well, a lot of conversations.  If just one child was off that day, disruptive, disrespectful and so on, it was usually handled through a quiet conversation off to the side or in their ear.  Sometimes we went in the hallway.  I tried to limit the times I called out their names and I spoke to them as human beings.  No more teacher from the top, I am going to get you if you don't listen, but rather, "Do you see what your behavior is doing for your learning?"  Believe it or not, framed in a way where they understood what the loss was = the learning, there was better behavior or at least an attempt to behave.  And that was a central part of my plan; make the learning something they don't want to miss.  Most kids do not want to miss recess because they have a lot of fun and hang out with their friends, which is why it is such a favored punishment.  Hit them where it hurst kind of thing.  So I decided to make my classroom fun, exciting, and collaborative.  That meant that students actually wanted to participate and not miss out.

Sometimes my whole class was off; jumpy, jiggly, or falling asleep.  In the past I would have yelled, droned on, and probably lectured about the importance of school.  No surprise there that usually didn't work at all.  So then I would just get mad, tighten the reins and exert my control.  After all, I was the adult here and the one that should decide everything.  Yeah, didn't work so well.  This year I instead changed my teaching and learning.  While we may have had certain activities planned for that day they would be modified to require movement and discussion or totally changed if I could.  The learning goals usually stayed the same, the method didn't.  Often this took care of a lot of behavior that would have led to a check-mark before.  And I think that is central to this whole thing; bad behavior often comes from disengagement and boredom.  So when we change our classrooms to give students more outlet for their energy, bad behavior reduces.  My worst days were the days that I hadn't considered my students needs enough, the days were there was too much sitting down and not enough choice.

In the beginning it was hard.  I so instinctually wanted to say "Move your stick!" that I actually had to grind my teeth.  With time it got easier.  The students knew when they were misbehaving because we discussed it.  If the whole class or a majority of students were off we had a class meeting.  Sounds like a lot of time spent on talking?  Yes, but I would have been spending the same time yelling at the kids and doling out punishment.  The kids got used to it and many of them relished the fact that they were given a voice in their behavior and how to fix it, rather than a dictation from me.  Kids started keeping each other in line as well, asking others to be quiet when need be or to work more focused.  They knew what the expectations were for the different learning settings because we had set them together.  This was our classroom, not mine.

So did it work?  Absolutely, I would never go back.  I didn't take away recess but had it reserved to work with the kids that needed it, I made fewer phone calls home, and I sent a kid to the office twice the whole year for recess related stuff.  I am sure there are tougher classes out there than mine, but this was your every day average American elementary class.  We had the talkers, the interrupters, the disrespectful, the fighters, and the sleepers.  And it worked for them as well.  The kids felt part of something, something big, and they let me know on the last day of school just how much it meant to them.  They relished the voice they had, even when it came to their own consequences.  They relished that rewards were no longer personal but rather classroom-wide whenever I felt like it.  Kids were not singled out for horrible behavior and so I didn't have "that kid" that everyone knew would get in trouble.  Instead we were all there as learners being rewarded through our community rather than punished.  Yesterday while preparing form y switch from 4th to 5th, I put my old punishment cups to move your stick in into the lounge.  I hope no one picks them up.

Related articles

• Would You Like Being a Student in Your Own Classroom? (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• Some Thoughts on Motivation (mrspripp.blogspot.com)

So You Want to Quit Letter Grades - A Practical Guide From Someone Who's Done It and Survived

Last year I made the decision to stop giving out letter grades as much as possible. This was not an easy decision or one that I made lightly. Only after research, deep reflection, and many conversations with peers did I decide that this was the best step for me within my educational philosophy. This post is not a debate of why I quit letter grades, but a how, so here goes.

1. Do your research.  I knew that to do this right I had to have my philosophy and facts straight so I read Alfie Kohn's work, as well as the numerous blogs, articles, and reflections on it available through a  Google search.  This strengthened my stance and gave me practical know-how.
2. Think it through.  This is a bucking-the-system type of decision so you need to be clear on why you are doing this.  Providing students with more meaningful feedback: yes.  Less work and more free time: no.  
3. Now think it through practically.  What is this going to look like in your room?  How will you take notes?  How will you assess their learning?  And then how will you compile that all into feedback, progress reports, and perhaps even a dictated grade on a district report card?  This was my biggest hurdle this year and something that I need to refine next year.
4. Create your goals. All lessons have to have goals, otherwise you will have nothing to assess.  Sometimes we are not totally sure of that what those goals are since a curriculum has been prescribed to us.  Dig through it and find them or create your own within your standards and then make a list or some sort of report.  I was able to quickly assess through verbal Q&A whether a student was secure in something or not and then check off that goal, moving that student on to something else.
5. Involve the higher ups.  I didn't have to alert my principal to what I was planning on doing but it made my life a lot easier when I did.  Some districts will not support this without a proper discussion and it is important to have allies if someone questions your program or philosophy.
6. Explain it to your families, and particularly your students.  The first few weeks we discussed what proper feedback was, what we could use it for, and how the feedback was just another step in our journey.  This made my students start to focus on the feedback rather than pine for a grade to be done with it.  Deadlines became more flexible and a product was seldom "done" but always a work in progress.
7. Involve your students.  I had to still give letter grades on our report cards so I discussed with students what their grade should be.  More time consuming, absolutely, but it was wonderful to see their knowledge of the subject and understanding of what they should know.  Most of the time, their grades and mine lined up perfectly and in rare occasions were they much harder on themselves than I was.  Either way we figured it out together, through conversation and reflection, and they started to own their learning more.
8. Plan for it.  Meaningful assessment does not just happen, it is planned and somehow noted.  If you think you are just going to remember, you are not.  So every day I had my trusty clipboard that I took notes on, checked off progress and goals accomplished on, and added anything else useful to.  This became my "grade book" and the days I didn't use it, all of that information was lost.  
9. Take Your Time.  Letter grades will always be easier to do because they most often are compiled from a piece of paper or a one-time presentation.  Deep feedback is not.  This happens through conversations, assignments, and lots and lots of formative assessment.  Give yourself time to take it all in, take your most important goals and give them enough time to be accomplished by your students, and then give yourself enough time to have the conversations.  The conversations are the most important tool here.
10. Allow Yourself to Change.  This means both allowing yourself to try out not giving letter grades and then figuring out if it works for you.  This also means allowing yourself to know that this is a work in progress.  There were absolutely missed opportunities in my room this year concerning feedback, but I know what to work on now.  I also know what my goals are, how to engage students in meaningful conversation regarding their work, and also how to give better feedback.  Just like our students, we too, are learning.
11. Most Importantly: Reach Out.  Through my PLN I was able to engage in meaningful conversations and iron out hurdles with the help of Joe Bower, Jeremy MacDonald, and Chris Wejr.  I even reached out to Alfie Kohn.  There are people who have done this before you, there are people who have gone through it before you, use them, ask them questions, and know that you are not alone.  I am always available to discuss this with anyone so reach out to me as well.

Related articles

• Feel-Bad Education by Alfie Kohn (beaconbroadside.com)
• Gever Tulley: Killing Learning With Grades (edu.blogs.com)

School: The Killer of Curiosity

"What is that?"  "Where does this go?"  "Can I do this?"  All questions overheard during my school's recent kindergarten visitation day.  There they were: fresh, eager, curious, asking questions about everything; where does this go, what does this do?  I marvel at their spirit.  And then I think of later years of students, despondent, going through the motions, routine focused and mostly okay, but not asking all of the questions.  Where did the questions go?

As teachers we do not set out to kill the joy of learning, at least , not anyone I know does.  We state in our missions that we want to change students' lives, motivate them, inspire them, and keep them eager to learn.  And yet our mission seems to be at odds with our school system.  Classrooms are set up all facing the teacher so that the "sage on the stage" can be the center of attention.  The whole day is rigidly structured so that subjects do not overlap, routines are taught and mastered and hardly ever broken.  Punishment goes hand in hand with rewards and grades become the ultimate reward in the end.  An A will always be better than a B no matter what the teacher says.  We divide our students into winners and losers and hope they all have a nice journey through school. And then we wonder why students lose interest, lose relevance.  By the time we get to high school, the eyes are on the prize; graduation, where they will break free of the rigidity of school  Students count down until summer vacation so that they can be free.  Free.

As Alfie Kohn has stated, "School is not an institution of learning, it is an institution of listening and memorization." (Said in in a LeanBlog Podcast 2/24/09).   And this I believe is killing our school system.  Test-obsessed and score driven, we no longer let children develop their curiosity to provide them with a real stake in learning.  We no longer offer them choice because we have too much curriculum to cover.  Our homework is not set up for meaningful exploration but rather to teach time management and study skills.  Time management?   Like our over-scheduled students need more time management?  When students fail to hand in their homework we assume that it is either because they are too lazy or because they didn't feel like it.  We do not assume that perhaps it was uninteresting, irrelevant or perhaps even too hard or meaningless.  We almost always assume we know best.  And even if we know within our hearts that the piece of homework assigned probably wasn't all that engaging, we assign it anyway, because we have to assign something and we were forced to do inane homework when we went to school so why should our students be exempt.  But the system is broken, we know it, and we have to change it.

There are exceptions, of course, thankfully.  There are pockets of teachers and schools that are taking a different approach. That are actively combating this curiosity-killing school system.  Those that let their students explore, those that weigh their options, assign meaningful homework, that question their practices rather than go with the status quo.  They provide inspiration for some and shudders for other.  Perhaps they are just too different for some to even recognize them as schools.  Yet they are part of the answer.  We must bring back exploration, we must give teachers time to fully engage their students.  We must spark teachers' curiosity as well so that we all can love learning again.  They say that curiosity killed the cat, let's not have the lack of curiosity kill our schools.

Peter, Sit Up and Listen - Or Why Using Student Names in Punishment only Backfires

Joe, you need to pay attention.  Sit up, Peter!  Lisa, what happened there?  All day and every day, we use our students names when they are off task, when they are fiddling, sleeping, or simply not performing to the high standard we have set for them.  We make snap decisions, judge them, and punish them as we continue on with our lesson.  We don't always have the time to dig deep so we assume we know why they are fiddling, we assume we know why they are not paying attention, and so we correct, coerce, call out their names until they are with us again.  


Their names.  Something that is so intricately linked with who they are as a budding person.  Their names so linked with their identities.  And yet we use them to our advantage, simply to remain in control of the classroom.  One more tool to make sure all eyes are on me!


This week I asked my students to finish the sentence: "Being a good teacher means..." and what Nathan wrote really hit home: "Don’t yell out the kids name that does something wrong."  At first, I scoffed at this notion, after all, what else are we supposed to do as teachers when our students are off task?  Calling out their names is one of the most efficient ways to re-direct them because that is really all we are doing, right? Wrong, calling out a student's name in front of the whole class means that the whole class knows that the student is not doing what they ought to.  Calling out a name means that what one student is doing (or not doing) becomes the focus of the entire class.  Yes, you achieve your goal of attention redirection, but you also publicly humiliate that child.  It is time to stop with the name calling.


So what can one do instead, because we all know, there are times when even the most attentive student gets off-track


Well, I first re-evaluate myself, after all if they are spacing out, what am I doing to cause it? After all; if I was actually doing something interesting they might be well interested.  


If I find that I am indeed offering up something interesting, I wonder if they need a body break?  Even the most exciting topic becomes mundane after I have spoken about it for more than 10 minutes in my good "preacher" voice.


If this doesn't seem to be the root of the problem, then perhaps, a gentle tap on the shoulder or a silent hand signal can help the student re-direct?  Often, I can do this from across the room, catching only the eye of the student in question and helping them re-focus.


When this fails, and sometimes it does, particularly if the student is quite engaged with the drawing or thing they seem to be doing, then I either walk in their direction and whisper in their ear, or I simply stop speaking.  Silence is one of the greatest tools a teacher has in their toolbox for attention; after all, students are not used to teachers being quiet!  


And sometimes all of this fails, and that is when I am reminded that my students live full lives that sometimes interfere with our school day.  This is when I take the time to stop and talk and ask if everything is alright, is there anything I need to know?  Sometimes they are just so excited about something happening that they cannot focus, other times it is lack of sleep, of food, or they are distracted by life situations.  Sometimes, they will just tell you they are having an off day.  That is alright too, after all, we all have off days.


This isn't a perfect system, nor is it intended to be.  It is rather one more step in learning how to be a better teacher, one that doesn't cause embarrassment for their students, one that takes the time to figure out the real reason behind distractions and then works with the student rather than just dolling out punishment.


So once again, my students teach me how to be a better teacher.  I should not be using their names to call attention to unsavory behavior unless they are in a dangerous situation.  Nathan taught me that and for that I am thankful.  He had enough courage to tell his teacher the wrong of her ways, and lead me to deeper reflection.  When we ask our students questions, we may not like the answer, but there is always a great reason for that answer.  A reason that should not be taken lightly, but rather explored, reflected upon and then acted upon.

So What Does a B+ Mean to You - Quitting Grades Does Not Mean You are a Hippie

Quitting grades to some means to quit expectations. I used to think that if I didn't meticulously grade everything, I was inefficient, ineffective, and certainly lazy. And yet I have come to happily realize that quitting grades as much as I am allowed to do has become one of the great liberations of my young teaching experience. By quitting grades, I simply become able to better evaluate work, to in the end better "grade" my students.

When I quit putting letter grades on my papers, I did not lower my expectations for an excellent product, in fact quite the opposite happened. By removing letter grades from the final product it ceased being exactly that; final. When my students hand in an assignment now, they know it is is not done. No longer just an end product, but instead another stepping stone in our learning journey. If a test is mediocre, then they get a chance to fix it. As simple as that seems, I cannot tell you how many times I have witnessed a student say "oh" only to then erase the incorrect answer and provide the right one.

So quitting letter grades did not make me weak, simpler or even more "granola." I didn't quit letter grades because I wanted to shelter all of my students from the "real" world. I quit letter grades on assignment because they did not work. A letter grade only ever sparked a discussion when it was below what a student or parent thought was deserved. If an A- was given, a student did not take the opportunity to ask what could be better or ask what was great about it in the first place. Instead the grade was received, glanced at and the product filed away, perhaps to be shared with a parent, at some point to be shared with a recycling bin. So I didn't start to wear patchouli or run chants in my classroom, I didn't let my students academics slide to fit in with my new philosophy. Instead I challenged myself to provide better feedback, a better pathway for my students to follow to academic success.

Giving letter grades would be less time consuming then the feedback I provide now. Sometimes on busy days I even yearn for those days of easy calculations, slap on of a grade, and done with it all. Now instead I ponder, I chart, I reflect back upon previous work and then I try to write meaningful, relatable feedback that is relevant to that student. No more "Nice try" comments, but instead "You are secure in paragraph setup but still developing in sentence fluency." And that's only after all of my students actually know what a paragraph and sentence fluency is. So call me weak, call me a rebel, but don't call me a softie. Letter grades for my students has meant more work, more thought, and more academic challenge than ever before. And boy do I love my new, hippidippy ways.

I am a Hypocrite

Today I had one of those great thought moments that can only happen during deep professional and personal reflection.  George Couros, a principal I admire, did some thinking out-loud on my latest blog post, a follow up to another post on behavior.  Part of his comment is shown below:


I am going to challenge you a bit on this post, but not necessarily on its content. I noticed that you listed some stats on how many hits you have had, retweets, etc.. I also noticed that you listed that "Alfie Kohn" commented on it (like it was some kind of award that he did that). You have also written how you were disappointed that you did not get an edublog award: (http://mrspripp.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-loser.html)

With the listing of these stats (kind of like marks) and discussion of awards, are you somehow showing that you have a part of you driven by the same thing that you are saying we should take away from students in the classroom?

Just some food for thought. I think that your posting discussing the importance of intrinsic motivation and not extrinsic motivators is contradicted by use of the stats of your blog hits and retweets.

Is there room for both to drive us? I know I have a twitter counter on my own blog posts and love recognition.

Part of my response to George was this:

George, what a great comment that really made me think early this morning. I think your questions prove avery valid point for me; we as adults struggle for the same recognition as our students do. However, the reason why I listed those stats etc with this particular post was because it showed that somehow this particular post really struck something in people, which I had no idea it would. I never expect anyone to read my blog so the fact that that many people took the time to share or read shows that this a debate that many others are either thinking about or engaged in.

So all day I wondered; was I indeed a hypocrite (not that George implied it, I label myself that way)?  Had I published those statistics and name dropped because I too craved recognition and reward from my peers?  Could I possible be wanting the same thing that I despise so much in my own classroom?  The answer is not easy to come up with.  On one hand, I really do not seek out recognition but rather reflection, however, on the other hand, do I obsessively look at my blog counts to see if I matter?  Is that what it really comes down to?  

Perhaps when we look at our blog visits or comments received, we are really looking for some sort of validation that there are others like us out there.  That we are not alone in this educational ocean where the tide continuously shifts.  Perhaps, when a lot of people respond to a post we have found an island on which others seek refuge as well.  Perhaps, the need for recognition is so intrinsically ingrained in us that we can never truly escape it no matter how much we try.

I am not perfect, which thankfully no one has ever accused me of being.  I struggle publicly with many of my own teaching practices and choose to chronicle this struggle in order to give myself clarity from a distance.  I wish I could be 100% staunch anti-reward, but I am not, I still praise my students for great behavior, amazing work or just being all around fantastic kids.  Some would consider that a reward as well.  What I am opposed to, though, are the public reward ceremonies, the in-class recognition of only the best and brightest, rather than different categories where all children can be celebrated.  So perhaps I am a hypocrite, but at least I am a hypocrite who is willing to share their thoughts.

After Publishing my Discipline Management System

About 3 weeks ago, I chronicled how I had gone from a checks, sticks, and names discipline system to one based in logic, respect, and communication instead.  Little did I know that it would hit such a nerve with so many people.  So now with 33 comments,  81 re-tweets (even one by the very smart Alfie Kohn!), and more than 10,000 views, I think it is time to answer some of the questions that were posed.

• Don't you think it is just because of your great group of students that this works?  This has been a popular one, especially as I discuss it with colleagues who happen to know firsthand what an amazing group of 4th graders we do have.  My answer, well maybe, and yet, I do know that there are students in my room that would not have flourished as much if they had been subjected to last year's rules. These would have been my frequent fliers, often spending recess with me or the principal.  Through communication, I have only had to keep a couple of students in on two occasions as we discussed behavior expectations and how to fix reoccurring problems.   I know that I have 23 incredible students, but I did last year as well and the year prior.  So really, since these are the students that I do have, it appears to be a mute point.

• How did you come up with this system?  I didn't.  In fact, many commentators pointed out that it sounded a lot like The Responsive Classroom, Love and Logic, or various other programs.  I did not read any of these programs, instead I went with my own commonsense and sense of right and wrong.  I wanted a respectful classroom, which also meant I had to give a lot of respect.  I also knew that this would not be a one time thing of discussion, but something to revisit throughout the year whenever we had time.

• Why should I care, listen, use what you are using?  That's the wonderful part about the world of blogging, you don't have to!  All I am doing is chronicling my own decision to get rid of a punitive system to one guided by communication.  This approach works for me, but by all means, I want people to use whatever works for them.  I just want to let people know, particularly first year teachers that there are other methods than punishment to create a strong classroom.  I wish I had known more about that in college.

• Will you use it next year? Absolutely!  As with many changes on my journey this year, I could not imagine going back to my old ways.  I do not know what my classroom will consist of next year, but I do know that I am going to have some very eager new 4th graders ready to learn so my job is to provide them with the very best experience possible.  That includes a room where they feel safe, respected, and listened to, not just by me, but by their peers as well.  There may be changes, but fundamentally my philosophy will only expand and gain momentum rather than completely change.

So keep them coming.  It is only through dialogue that we continue to push our boundaries and learn together.  

So What's My Problem with Homework?

I just read a frightening and excellent post by Mark Hansen discussing homework in a real-life example with his son and immediately I wanted to comment on it.  But then I realized that would be rather lengthy, so instead I offer this post.  What is my problem with homework?

I never use to hate homework until last year.  Something hit me when I told my husband that I knew exactly which kid would hand in the homework with "some" help from the parents, which kid would hand in something half-finished, and which kid would never hand it in but instead take my punishment.  And punish I did.  Oh, I used to be the queen of taking away privileges.  It was awful.  There we were, staring at each other every recess trying to figure out just how much help was needed versus how much effort needed to be exerted.  It was exhausting for me and the kids.

And guess what, I was right!

I knew exactly which kids would not be able to complete the homework no matter how much help I gave them in school; they simply did not have the skills or resources needed to finish it at home.  Over the summer, this was the point I kept returning to, wondering if I could be "radical" and get rid of homework almost altogether?  And so I did.  This year, there is very little homework in my room and here is why, in no particular order:

• Homework is an excuse for the stuff we didn't get to.  I stated this in my parent/student orientation and most parents nodded their heads.  We always have one more thing we just need to get to when the bell rings.  Well guess what?  Then we need to restructure our day and get to it, rather then slip it in to the backpack for the kids to deal with.  I know there is pressure with curriculum but if you know what your goal is for the lesson, then get to it!
• Homework is practice - for some kids. Some kids will take 5 minutes to do homework because they already get it, some will take 30 minutes because they need parent help, others will never finish.  This is not fair.  If we do not equip students with the correct knowledge to complete the homework then we should not assign it.
• Homework is not fair.  You know which kids will ace it and which kids will spend hours trying to solve a math page.  One sheet/assignment/report does not fit all.  If you already know how a kid will do on something then why are you bothering with the assignment, seems to me they have already shown you where their skills lie.
• Homework steals away childhood.  Every minute of homework that you assign is an infringement of your students' time spent experiencing the real world.  We say we want well-rounded students, but then have them spend an hour or more practicing school skills.  We already asked for 7+ hours of their time, let them have some free time to do the things that exposes them to the big world and in turn helps them become better people and students.  You will end up with kids that might just be excited about school, rather than exhausted.
• Homework does not always fit the learning.  Worksheets are on the way out in many classrooms, and yet, we fall back on them all the time to check for understanding.  However, not all skills that we teach transfer onto paper very well.  I agree that math lends itself nicely to paper pages of problems, but why assign 3 pages if you can get away with just a couple of problems?  Before you assign think of the purpose of your homework; does it really give the students a way to show off their knowledge or will you just help you assign a percentage better?
• Homework is maybe not just done by the student.  There are many helpful parents out there that really want their child to succeed.  As parents nothing gets us more than our child not understanding something.  How often do parents tell us that they had to help their child finish their work?  How often do we get projects turned in that required hours of craft work way outside of the range of your grade level?  The parents have already been to school, stop asking them to do work or in some cases, stop giving them a way to relive their school days through projects.

I know that there are times and situations where homework becomes a good extension such as sending kids out into the community to interview elders for heritage days, or continuing research on their own.  

I am not against all homework, what I am against, though, is the homework just for the sake of assigning homework.  I used to tell my parents to expect about 40 minutes of homework every night in 4th grade because I had been told it is about 10 minutes times the grade level.  40 minutes!  And then we ask students to read their books and do projects on top of that.  No wonder our students are exhausted when they come back the next day rather than eager to learn.

Think of what the purpose of homework is in your room, look really hard at your reasoning; why do you assign it?  Is it a meaningful learning experience that will help students become smarter, more knowledgeable, better people?  If yes, excellent.   But if no, not always, then stop, re-evaluate, clean it out, and then tell your students.  You will marvel at their response.

I was petrified to stop, worried that people would think I was skimping out on my job duties.  Almost all of my parents now rejoice in this year of calmness.  They know that if I assign something, there is a valid reason for it.  They also know that their child is learning as much as any other student in the 4th grade.  Stop the homework insanity and let these kids be kids.  We can accomplish the learning without the extra work.  You just have to believe in your own capabilities as en educate, so educate, don't assign.

Declutter I say! Or Why Motivational Posters Demotivate

Life is full of choices, so choose carefully! How can anyone love you if you do not love yourself? And my favorite: failure is never an option! All sayings found on various motivational posters sold to teachers that mean well and boy, do they sell. Anyone who has ever been in a teacher store those last couple of weeks before school start will see the poster wheels spinning frantically as the just right poster is sought. Ok, I admit I, I was one of those teachers, however, I thought I was clever and that I had it all figured out. You see, I had edited my pre-packaged collection and therefore only had select few displayed. Thus, my students knew that these were the sayings they had to focus on. I remember one was a cute little frog hanging on to a tree branch and something about sticking with it. Oh, day in and day out that little frog inspired my students to never give up! Right? Well, not exactly. My students didn't care. I am sure they thought they were cute and one or two of them used them for inspiration for their own doodles in their journals but did it ignite their passion for learning? Hardly, in fact, I would like to argue quite the opposite. You see, my students were overloaded with messages. Walk into almost any elementary classroom and you will be bombarded with motivational posters, hand-made posters, student work, rules, classroom jobs and anything else that deserves a special place on the wall. And we don't just tack it to the all, we put up back posters and fancy boarders o that it gets really colorful and pops! In fact, bare walls are taunted and laughed at, seen as someone being unprepared or dare I say dispassionate about their room, their job, their kids!

And so the pressure on new teachers in particular is immense. You may be new but your room should still look inviting, educationally functional and also be a representation of you as a teacher. That last week before my first week of school ever, I was waking up in cold sweat wondering whether the kids would get "me" in the room? And then school happened and I realized little by little that even though I had labored intensely over my handmade sign with the great Shakespeare quote "Do Not be Afraid of Greatness" my students had never read it or noticed it really. How do I know? My principal asked them about it when I was observed the first time. But surely they had noticed all of the signs? Not so much, even if I had pored over each placement of every poster so much that my walls had holes in them from my tearing off the gorilla tape (note to self: don't ever use gorilla tape again.) I had created rules - keep them simple but firm, and a little flexible. Classroom jobs - instill responsibility but make the chart so fun that the kids cannot wait to see what job they will do. And maps - I had maps all over my room. Why maps? Well, I really like maps and they filled all that dreaded empty wall space. I would have continued to cover and decorate had it not been for a pesky thing called the firecode. It stopped me at 20%.

So what changed? One day I realized that it wasn't my room that represented me, but myself that represented me. In fact, I got sick of re-taping posters that kept falling down, or moving them when I actually needed the space for learning and so little by little down they came. The ultimate clean up came when I had to move rooms this year. I sorted, evaluated and donated. Now I chuckle when I see my "old" posters hanging somewhere else. Don't they realize why I got rid of them? I also thought about my students more and how they reacted to the environment I created. Too much of it was about me, and how I wanted the room to be. They didn't feel welcome or that the space was theirs, but merely as guests passing through borrowing the space. Another consideration was that I have students that get over-stimulated quite easily. Being a clutter freak myself I start to get clammy when I stay in these rooms too long so imagine if you are a student trying to focus on whatever is going on on the whiteboard. Where do you look? To the poster telling you to keep focusing or on to the actual board? So is my room bare walls? Nah, but what is up there is important. In fact, the kids have noticed what is posted. Quotes form the Little Prince, from the "I Have a Dream" Speech, and student introductions in Wordles. We have some literary elements as reminders and even a couple of pictures. The students know how obsessed I am with zombies so they draw me pictures of flesh eaters. No rules, no motivational posters, just us. Our space, our room. And most importantly, room to grow into a community. Into making the space our own. They own the room as much as I do and that is more important that sticking to it or never giving up!

Remember those Dreams of Summer?

This post is the first in, hopefully, many taking place as a conversation between Jeremy Macdonald @MrMacnology, a 5th grade teacher in Oregon, and Pernille Ripp @4thgrdteacher, 4th grade teacher in Wisconsin; two educators who for the first time are attempting a no grades classroom as well as limited homework.  We work under the confines of our districts but with passion and belief that this is the way forward.

Hello Jeremy,
Remember this summer when we had our dreams in place of how we were going to make this work, this no grades thing, and how we knew that with the right amount of dedication it would be a smashing success?  Well, guess what, the school year started and it is hard!  I still believe in it, don't get me wrong, this has been a massive educational philosophy switch for me and one that I am incredibly passionate about.  I believe I am doing the right thing by focusing on the learning and not the grade, but who ever knew that removing most worksheets, tests, and averages would making teaching so much more time consuming?  Now when students finish a project I have to find the time to speak to them about it or at the very least write lengthy feedback on their work.  No more checking an answer-key and slapping a subjective percentage on it and calling it a day.  I have to study what they learned, how they divulged it, and more importantly figure out where to go from there.

So maybe that is why many educators do the grade; it is easy.  After all, you don't have to change how you teach a student if the end result is just an average number based upon a semester's performance.  You can just hand over the grade, watch the disappointment swell if it wasn't the one they hoped for and then move on.  Parents are happy because they recognize what the grade means, or think they do anyway, and students know exactly where they fit into in the hierarchy in the class.  End of story.  Yet, when you throw away the grade something enormous happens.  At first, students are a little bit surprised, perhaps even dismayed, and definitely confused.  I don't know how many times I have had to discuss with students why the feedback I have provided does not translate into a percentage.  Some get it, most don't at this point in the year.  One student in particular keeps asking me how he can earn a good grade and is perpetually disappointed when I tell him that it is about the learning not the grade.  So what do you say?  Do you tell them that they are doing amazing and some would consider that to be an "A+" performance or do you stick to your line and keep pressing on with learning goals?

And the work!  Papers piling up, goals, checklists, notes from conversations all crowd my desk.  With conferences coming up, I am starting to shake a little in my boots.  Will I have enough evidence to prove the academic rigor I am subjecting my students to? Will students be able to explain what they have been learning or how it affects their future learning?  Will I be able to communicate effectively to doubting parents that although less homework is sent home, their child is still learning just as much?  And don't get me started on report cards!  How will I translate their knowledge into a grade?

I know this is the right path, but why must it be so hard?  I know change is never easy but this makes so much sense.  So where does one go from here?

Best,
Pernille

How Homework Destroys

It finally happened; a parent decided to disagree with my new take on homework. They do not feel that I am providing enough and thus am doing a disservice to the students by lulling them into a fake sense of security in their skills. My response at first was indignation; how dare so and so question my fantastic educational shift in philosophy. Why are they not enlightened or believers as well? And then it dawned on me; I have not shown them the way.

I spend a lot of time speaking to students about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and what the goal is for their learning but not enough explaining that to the parents. And while I hope that parents have faith in me, I cannot take it for granted. I am, after all, messing with a system that has been set in place for many years and that these same parents are products of. So, of course, my system may come as a shock at first, and without the proper explanation it will continue to be so. After all, parents have been trained to think that for every grade level you figure out homework load by multiplying the grade level with 10 minutes. So by 4th grade, students should at the very least be doing 40 minutes of homework a night. And yet, my students don't. They do most of their work in class, even staying in for recess so that I may help them, and I never willingly send home a piece of homework that I know they will struggle for hours with.

Homework should be practice, a showing of skills. It should not be a two hour time consumer where both mom, dad and the encyclopedia gets involved. I explain this to my students and the sense of relief is visible in them. They know that I will challenge them in class but at home they may pursue life instead. So if you work hard at school then the reward is rest, family time, and a pursuit of happiness. And it works. My students are still learning everything they should for the year, albeit in a more hands-on manner. I am shying away from worksheets and instead having conversations about learning. Our favorite tool is our dry-eraseboards that allows me a quick check in for understanding. And the students are noticing the difference. No longer dreading the afternoon because I will continue to haunt their day. No longer dreading school because it means so many extra hours of works. No longer dreading learning because they are realizing that learning is something you do at school and that it doesn't come form worksheets.

When I recently welcomed 9 new students into my room, one "old" student told me that she was looking forward to seeing how the newbies would react since I "teach a little crazy." And perhaps that is true. I am loud, obnoxiously so at times, and I have high standards. I push kids to learn, I push kids to understand, and then I back off. I let them think about it, let the learning resonate within them, and then I challenge them to dredge it out again the following day.

By no means, am I the perfect teacher. I have many years of learning to come, but I do know that I am on to something here and I stand at a fork in the road signaling a massive shift in my whole educational philosophy. I believe these students are learning, I believe I am preparing them as well as any other teacher, and most importantly I believe I am letting them be kids at the same time. My students know that if something is homework it is for the benefit of their learning and is important to do, not just another piece of paper that their teacher didn't get to in class. They know that I only assign it if it is truly valuable, and not just something for me to use for grades. They know that we will meet and discuss their learning, always knowing what is missing, what is accomplished, what the direction should be. They know that if I assign something to them it is because they have the skills needed to do it. Do yours?

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones and Rewards Will Always Hurt You - Confessions of a Former Rewards Addict

This post is, was, and will be inspired by this post written by George Couros "The Impact of Awards"

I admit it.  Gold stars, super duper stickers, sticks, names on the board; I have done it all.  And when one reward system failed, another one took over.  Never one to sit and reflect that perhaps it was the system that was faulty and not just that the students grew tired of it.  After all, that carrot at the end of the stck was essential to my teaching success.  Those stickers meant I cared.  That Awesome board where A+ work was proudly displayed gave students something to strive for.  That certificate if you got an A on your math test meant that you were smart and that other students should look up to you.  Right?  Wrong again.

Oh, I thought I was clever.  I thought I knew how to motivate students and after all, what could a little reward do that would possibly hurt the child?  Well, after reading Alfie Kohn's book "Punished by Rewards," I realize just how wrong I have been.  Those papers on the awesome board did nothing to improve unity in my room.  Instead they acted as the great divide, highlighting the students that could from those that could not.  Those stickers I doled out for anything above 90%; not a cheerful way to celebrate achievement, but rather a glaring marker showing which students did the best in the room.  Those great "you did it" award certificates stapled to their math tests, not great posters of pride but instantaneous feedback on where a students falls within the grade hierarchy.  And yes, the students knew exactly where they fell within the classroom.

So this year I am throwing it all out.  Well, most of it anyway, I do like those stickers and will use them for good rather than evil.  And I am petrified.  After all, this is how I was taught to teach.  If a student does something good they should be rewarded and nothing says "Great job! I can tell you worked so hard" better than a smiley face sticker.  Wrong again.  A smiley face sticker says; "If you work hard, you will get a smiley face sticker."  And when in life does that ever happen?  This year, I plan on talking to my students even more.  Telling them what was great, asking them what they thought was great and then peeling apart things that didn't quite get there and figure out what went wrong.  We shall learn from our supposed mistakes, those will be our rewards.

So while I am excited for this new no-reward agenda, I do shudder a little bit at the implication it has.  No longer will I be the cool teacher with the Awesome board, the one you get to have pizza with if your stick doesn't get moved, the one that doles out classroom parties as if they were clean socks.  Instead, I will be the one that shouts the praise the loudest to every kid.  The one that talks to all my students and highlights all the things they did right.  The one that creates more work for herself because talking rather than just placing a sticker takes more time, more effort, more thought.  And I can't wait.  Will you join me?