I want to thank “Izzy,” who is a frequent commentator on the posts here on Big Jolly Politics, for his very creative comment to my last post, because it helped crystalize for me how I need to start this discussion about reforming our curriculum and our classrooms—very carefully.
You see, one reason reform efforts over the last generation have been so ineffective is that the classroom has become the “third rail” in the debate over education, which we mere mortals dare not discuss—especially if we are conservatives. When we “fools” have rushed in, we have been castigated by the “professionals” for not understanding the realities of teaching and the modern classroom, and our proposals have been dismissed as unenlightened attempts to find the answer to every issue in some bygone, Reaganesque “Golden Age” that never existed. Unfortunately, we conservatives sometimes play into this narrative by the rhetoric we use and the battles we choose to fight.
So, at the outset of this portion of our discussion, let me clarify a few things.
First, I believe teaching is one of the hardest jobs to do well in our society, and I have the utmost admiration for those who pursue teaching as a career. From the moment a teacher walks inside a school each morning to the moment he (or she) leaves at night, he is teaching—content, character, methods, and values—directly in the classroom and indirectly by observation and example. And, this process continues every day of each school year for decades. The reality is that the challenges teachers face have become more difficult over the last few decades as our student bodies have become larger and more culturally and intellectually diverse, as the mission of our public schools has become more opaque, and as the public’s willingness to underwrite the present system has been strained to the breaking point. A primary objective for starting this discussion is to establish a more intelligible system that will help teachers meet their challenges more effectively, and that will gain the public’s confidence and support.
Second, I enter this discussion with a little more than a pedestrian interest. I grew up in a family deeply devoted to education, in which my father served as member of a public school board, and worked on local education issues for many years. In college, I served on the Faculty Curriculum Committee that revised our college’s core curriculum and graduation requirements, and on the college’s Long-Range Planning Committee. Recently, I finished a four-year term as a member, officer, and Chair of the Board of Trustees of a local private school. These experiences, together with my own study over the years, have provided me with insights into the challenges faced by educators, the different missions of public and private schools, the proper boundaries between management of a school as an entity and administration of the operations and classrooms of the school, and the ongoing process of strategic planning for a school.
Third, because public schools are by their nature “public,” there is a political component to the strategic planning for our school system. Therefore, citizens, including old fools like me, have a responsibility to participate in that planning process. Given the state of our public education, and the demands on our public budgets, this strategic planning process is long overdue in Texas.
Finally, I do believe that the first step of any strategic planning process is to define the mission of the entity, and only then to determine how to fulfill that mission. My previous posts focused on offering a clarified mission, and with this post we will start to discuss how to fulfill it. I am sure that some people fear that my stated mission, and the proposals to implement it, will “turn the clock back” on education. To show that this view fundamentally misreads what I have said so far, I’ll briefly recap what I’ve said so far:
- I agree with John Stuart Mill, who defined “education” in his Inaugural Address Delivered to the University of St. Andrews in 1867, as “the culture which each generation purposely gives to those who are to be its successors, in order to qualify them for at least keeping up, and if possible for raising the level of improvement which has been attained…;”
- I agree with educators, such as John B. Conant and Allan Bloom, who argued that to provide the education that Mill described, there must be a unity of purpose underlying the curriculum of the school system;
- I believe the unity of purpose for the public school system is provided in Article 7, Section 1, of the Texas Constitutions, which states: “A general diffusion of knowledge being essential to the preservation of the liberties and rights of the people, it shall be the duty of the Legislature of the State to establish and make suitable provision for the support and maintenance of an efficient system of public free schools…;”
- I have proposed a modern mission for our public school system that applies “the constitutional purpose of Texas education to the 21st Century challenges that will face our children and grandchildren.as a mission”: “the incremental foundation of truths, facts, and principles they will need as adults to function as effective American citizens in a global economy, together with the experiences and tools to use such knowledge effectively and wisely;” and
- The federal government should have little or no role in implementing this new mission, because the history of its involvement over the last few decades has been one of increased bureaucracy and inefficiency without any perceptible improvement in outcomes.
I am not trying to return to an age that never existed, but I am challenging the status quo of accepted practices within the current system that fails to prepare our children for the society they are entering.
Now, with these clarifications behind us, let us “fools” proceed to discuss the curriculum and the classrooms we will need to carry-out a unified mission in the 21st Century.
To do so, let’s start with the fictional classroom that Izzy described in his comment to my last post. I am going to quote it at length (though I’ve done my best to fix the punctuation and paragraphs to enhance its readability) and then use it to discuss the problems illustrated by this story, which underlie the need for curricular reform. I will then use these problems as discussion points for my next posts.
In Izzy’s story, we are shown a class of diverse students—probably a science class of unknown grade level—to whom the teacher is trying to teach the “scientific method”:
… The room darkened. I picked up the remote control and pushed ‘play’. The overhead projector screen glowed blue then white, as the steps of the Scientific Method, listed in black letters became readable. Some students began writing in their journals. I walked back around my desk and stood before the darkened class and slightly shifted my expression.
“Ask a question,” I said, then paused.”
The first step in the Scientific method is….write this down young scientists,” then paused again. “Ask a question.”
The students wrote down step one of the Scientific Method.
“Let’s say that Antinio, has to go from his first period class All THE WAY to Biology without getting caught in ‘tardy sweep’.” I emphasized the words ALL THE WAY, because the students knew that English classes were just downstairs from our Biology classroom. I was being sarcastic. If students were tardy more than nine times, they would have to serve one day of in school suspension. Fifteen times and they would be suspended from school for a day. SWEEP was the term used by the administrators for rounding up tardy students between classes, from the halls and sending them to a common area with other tardy boys and girls.
“Ezweep ez boolcheet,” Antinio said out loud, in heavily Spanish accented english.
Christian, a Hispanic boy sitting on the other side of the classroom on the first row, half-laughed. “Hah,” he blurted out coyly, then, looked around the room for approval.
Raymond noisily wadded up a piece of paper and acted like he might try for a long shot at the garbage can. Carolina and Jasmina baited him, “chood eet, chood eet.”
“Raymond, don’t do that,” I said with a mocking pseudo plead. The projector screen glowed white with the steps of the scientific method. I stared at Raymond for one-half of a second then looked at Antonio and said, “Antinio, please don’t cuss.” Antonio stared at me and didn’t say anything. Juanito sat up and pulled the earbuds out of his ears.
I paused, just for a second, and looked above the class at a National Geographic poster of ‘A Wetland Ecosystem’ on the back wall, and said, “Ask a question.” The class was silent.
“How do I geet frong inglich tu Biologia widhow gettin’ caught by the ‘Meegra?” Antonio asked. Christian, Raymond, Desmond and several other students howled with laughter.
I paused and looked at Antonio. “RIGHT, ANTONIO,” I shouted! I said to the class, “How does Antinio get from English class to Biology without getting caught by the ‘Meegra?” The class laughed.
“Iz lak ezweep por our daddys?” Juanito asked, sincerely, yet softly.
“VERY GOOD YOUNG SCIENTIST,” I said loudly! That’s step one of the scientific method. “Let’s give THAT ‘young scientist’ two claps!” I, and most of the students clapped twice, clap, clap….
My guess is that many teachers face this same type of challenging situation many, many times a day in our public schools, and they each try to use a creative approach like the one this fictional teacher used to establish the point they are trying to teach. But, with all due respect to our fictional teacher, the point she thought she had made was probably lost on these students, regardless of their momentary applause—and that is the problem with teaching with a method-based curriculum.
I want to put my critique in context, so let’s start with a few of the relevant findings from A Nation at Risk, which I referenced in my last post:
- “Some 23 million American adults are functionally illiterate by the simplest tests of everyday reading, writing, and comprehension.”
- “About 13 percent of all 17-year-olds in the United States can be considered functionally illiterate. Functional illiteracy among the minority youth may run as high as 40 percent.”
- “Many 17-year-olds do not do not possess the ‘higher order’ intellectual skill we should expect of them. Nearly 40 percent cannot draw inferences from written material; only one-fifth can write a persuasive essay; and only one-third can solve a mathematics problem requiring several steps.”
- “The teacher preparation curriculum is weighted heavily with courses in ‘educational methods’ at the expense of courses in subjects to be taught. A survey of 1,350 institutions training teachers indicated that 41 percent of the time of elementary school teacher candidates is spent in education courses, which reduces the amount of time available for subject matter courses.”
Based on these findings, here are some of the problems with this episode:
Both the purpose of the lesson—teaching the Scientific Method—and the result—application of the first step to an unrelated, non-scientific scenario, is a waste of educational resources.
Cognitive scientists tell us that teaching a method of thinking without reference to the basic knowledge to which the methodology is to be applied, is a waste of time. However, since A Nation at Risk was issued, much of the educational establishment in this country has re-doubled their efforts to teach such methodology with the hope that it would lead to an expansion of “‘higher order’ intellectual skill” among our children.
In 2007, in the journal American Educator, Donald T. Willingham presented an analysis of the relevant cognitive science studies in “Critical Thinking: Why Is It So Hard to Teach?”. The upshot of the research that Willingham summarizes is that if critical thinking is taught as a methodology, e.g., the scientific method, the historical method, etc., without reference to the subject matter to which it applies and without repetition, it is not retained for future use by students. E.D. Hirsch, Jr., expands on and addresses similar findings in his recent book, The Making of Americans: Democracy and Our Schools.
So, though our fictional teacher was justifiably gratified that there had been a momentary break-thru with the students, the break-thru promises to be just that—momentary. It is unlikely that anything of value from the lesson will be retained by our fictional students for future application.
The language used by the students shows their functional illiteracy, and their lack of readiness for the lesson that is being presented.
These fictional students show virtually no functional grasp of the English language; certainly not enough of a grasp of English to understand the meaning of either “scientific” or “method,” let alone to understand, retain or use anything else related to the teacher’s lesson. These students have not learned either of the necessary reading and listening skills: decoding; and comprehending. Without these skills, the long-term meaning of this lesson was lost on the students described in Izzy’s story.
The functional illiteracy displayed by these students displays a failure of the system to assimilate these students into the America they will inherit.
Why are our fictional students functionally illiterate in the language of our culture? Because our curriculum fails to require instruction in the basic knowledge these children need in order to assimilate into our society, or as Mill described in 1867: to become members of “the culture which each generation purposely gives to those who are to be its successors, in order to qualify them for at least keeping up, and if possible for raising the level of improvement which has been attained….”
Hirsch makes this point persuasively in The Making of Americans: Democracy and Our Schools:
… [E]ffective communication and intellectual competence require shared knowledge over a wide range of topics. … they connect with something less tangible: a sense of belonging to a wider community and a feeling of solidarity with other Americans. When we become full members of the American speech community, we belong to a wider group toward which we feel a sense of loyalty. …
Since language itself depends on shared knowledge and values as well as shared conventions, the aim of bringing children into the public speech community is a more than linguistic aim. All children need to be taught the general knowledge that is silently assumed in that language community. Our schools need to assimilate into the public sphere not just new immigrants but all of our children, regardless of family background. That is the fundamental aim of schooling in a democracy and one that we are not serving very effectively today.
Studies show that most parents want schools to assimilate our children (A lot to be thankful for), and the Texas Constitution requires us to provide them with the knowledge needed to assimilate.
Depending on the age of our fictional students, changing their current life trajectory will take a lot of remedial effort as we transition from the present system to a new knowledge-based curriculum, but we can’t afford to see the students in this class five or ten years from now caught in the same situation. So, in our next post, we’ll pick-up Izzy’s fictional class and discuss how to change these dynamics for future students.
Ed,
I am honored.
“That’s all I have,” Mr.Crocker said, then, paused. “Ms Keller, do you have anything else?”
Ms. Keller stood up holding a piece of paper. Mr. Crocker handed her the microphone. “Lots of good energy in here this afternoon,” she said. “Bring those great ideas with you to your academic team meetings. Good energy. Good energy,” she said, tilting her head while holding the microphone and smiling. Please read, Grandpa’s Gonna Learn Ya. Pick up a schedule of the academic team meetings, on the table in the back, on your way out. Read chapter one about revisiting our foundation,” she shouted to the exiting Teachers Teachers began to stand up and scoot to the center isles of the auditorium, then walk up the incline to the doors in the back.
I stood up and looked at Mr. Jennings. “Jesus Rodriguez,” I said.
“Meester Smeeeth,” Ms. Swindon said, stretching out the “eeeeth,” subtly attempting to conjure favor with the group of science teachers seated around a table at the academic team meeting by mocking the way Hispanic students pronounce my name. I didn’t offer a response. I had learned the hard way, long ago, that engaging Ms. Swindon at a biology academic team meeting could be problematic.
“Does everyone have a copy of Grandpa’s Gonna Learn Ya?” she asked across the table not looking at me.
“He yuh ee yuht ee yuz,” I said in my best black kid slang. Ms. Leslie, a good natured pretty light skinned black teacher, and several others, chuckled at the attempt. Ms. Love, the special ed co-teacher sitting to my right, raised her left eyebrow and gave me a look of mild disapproval.
Ms. Cannon, seated next to Ms. Swindon on the other side of the table, corrected Ms. Swindon , ”It’s Meester esMEETH,” she said, then chuckled.
Ms.deGras, a short fat young biology teacher said flatly, ” I have a copy on my flash drive.”
Mr. Daniels, a coach/ teacher, smiled and said with a faux black kid high pitched voice, “Mee yuster Smeeyuth. Can I have a copy?”
“Mee yuster Smeeyuth,” Ms Cannon offered her version again, then smiled
“Here ya go coach,” I said, handing one across the table to him. Coach Daniels, like most other coaches, was more concerned about athletics than academics. He would often use my lab set ups and copies of my worksheets for his classes. However, he was such a good natured guy that I didn’t mind. Also, he didn’t mind helping discipline boys who played sports. Sometimes the black football players and Hispanic soccer players needed a ‘Dutch Uncle” talk.We both needed a witness sometimes. It was a fair trade, I thought.
“Thank you meester smee yuth,” he said in his faux black kid high pitched voice, taking a copy of the book.
Ms. Peterson, the Science Department Chairperson with the eye condition, walked in. One of her eyes would occasionally yaw or roll in it’s socket. “You guys continue, I’m just here to observe,” she said, handing the sign in sheet to Ms. Swinson and taking a seat between Ms. Leslie and Ms. Swindon. “ I have made some flash cards with key concepts from chapter one.facilities, They are:
staffing,
budgets,
taxes,
textbooks,
testing,
student and teacher performance,
tenure and pensions,
educating the children of illegal immigrants and children with special needs,
drop-out rates, and
organizational inefficiencies,
One card from each concept.” She laid the flashcards on the table face down. OK, everybody pick one.” Each Teacher picked up a card,”
I picked up the one that said educating the children of illegal immigrants and children with special needs.
“Meester Smeeth” Ms Swindon said, cutting her narrow pig eyes toward me. You go first.
I paused. “OK,” I said. Let me tell you about second period….
I leaned in between Jasmina, and Carolina, and said, ”Watch this.” I tapped some termites onto the copy paper. Julio, Raymond and Desmond watched closely as the termites began crawling on the red line. I walked back across the room and set the bucket down. I walked over to Shaneequa’s table.
“Termites can detect fear,” I said then leaned over the table. I held out my thumb and slowly moved it over the top of a crawling termite. “Listen,” I said. The table students were quiet. When my thumb was one centimeter above a termite, I made a slight squeaking sound with my lips. “Did you hear that?” I asked. The table full of kids howled with laughter.
“Naw naw naw, DaQuan said. “Dat wuz you.”
“Mistah smit, you crazy,” Shaneequah said.
“Why are they following the red line young scientists,” I asked?
“They fayvrit coluh eeuh rayuh,” Desmond said.
“See if they follow a red map pencil,” I said.
Shaneequah snatched the red map pencil from the basket and drew a figure eight, being careful not to hurt a termite. The termites ignored the red map pencil line and continued following the red pen line.
DaQuan held a blue map pencil. He drew a blue figure eight on the paper. The termites ignored it.
“Move foo,” Shaneequa held a blue papermate pen. She drew a blue figure eight. A few of the termites crawled over to it but soon became disinterested and returned to the red papermate pen figure eight.
“Write down the steps of your termite experiment,” young scientists. “And you must write down a hypothesis. I paused. What is a hypothesis,” I asked the class.
“An educated guess,” Missy said.
“Very good, young scientist,” I said.
Ed,
As teacrers, we are supposed to make phone calls to parents in an effort to help the students. Here are two(of many) that I made. What would you do if you were the teacher?
“Hello, this is Mister Smith. May I speak to Ms. Foster?”
“She not hur.”
Could you tell her that Mr. Smith from Hereford High School called? I’m Shaneequah’s Biology Teacher.” There was a pause. In the background I heard Ms. Foster’s voice. “Chil’ you bettah give me dat phone. Why you keeps doin’ dat? JaMiracle, I mo whup yo butt.”
“Hallo. Dis miz Fostuh.”
Yes, Ms Foster, this is Mr. Smith from Hereford High School. I’m Shaneequah’s Biology Teacher. I need to speak with you about her grade.”
“Yeuh,” she said.
“Yes, Ms Foster, you may have noticed on Shaneequah’s last progress report, that she needs to improve her test grades and turn in her daily work. She currently has a 38 in Biology.”
I didn’t get no progress ‘pote.
I paused. “Ms. Foster, are you available for a parent-teacher conference? It’s important that we communicate about Shaneequah’s grade.”
I hear the television loudly in the background.
“Tur nat gotdanged TV down!” Ms. Foster shouts. “TOIN IT DOW!” Long pause. I do not hear the TV in the background anymore.
“Ms.Foster?”
“I’m sorry Mistuh Smit.”
“That’s OK Ms. Foster.” Ms. Foster, Shanee…” she interrupted
“Mistuh Smit, Shaneequah goin through a rough time. Her father got shot las’ June an’ she jes ain’t been able to concentrate. I thank she duhpress. You know she pregnit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Ms. Foster, I didn’t know.
“She lak yew Mistuh Smit. She say yo hur favrit Teachuh. I doe no whut to do, Mistuh Smit. We po. I woiks all day at duh hospital an don’t git home til near nine at night. Shaneequah and JaMiracle aint got no daddy, Mistuh Smit. And now Shaneequah pregnit” She paused. “Could you please hep her Mistuh Smit. She need to pass Bi ology.”
“I’ll do what I can Ms. Foster. Thank you for sharing.”
“Oh Gawd bless you Mistuh Smit,” she said. “Goobye.”
“Goodbye.”
In the background: “Girl you bettah not evah…” click
“Hola, con quien hablo?”
“Bueno, yo soy un maestro de Biologia en la escuela. Puedo hablar con Maria Rodriguez?”
“The sees Marria Rrodriguez.”
“ Do you speak English Senora Rodriguez?”
“Jes, I spic Inglich. How air choo, Meester Esmeeth?”
“I’m doing fine, Ms Rodriguez. I need to talk to you about Jesus’ grades. He had a 32 on his last progress report and he will fail for the six weeks. All he wants to do is draw”
“O boy, dat ees rill bed. Meester esmeeth, choo no Jesus ees artistic, doan choo?”
“I do know that Ms. Rodriguez. Jesus is one of the most artistic kids in my second period class.”
“He ees berry especial Meester Esmeeth. He chuice won estoodie. I ang berry worry abow hing. Choo no Meester Esmeeth, Jesus heb to brothers. Tey boat drop owt before graduate. Tey boat ing shale por drogas. Jesus my jungist.” she paused. “Ing dee meeting las jear one mang toad mi thet Jesus ees a berry espeshur artistic.”
“What meeting Ms. Rodriguez?”
“Det miting les jear. Those people toll mi thet Jesus ees artistic. I toll dose pipl all Jesus wan do ees drow.”
“He certainly can draw, and very well. I have asked Jesus to make some drawings for extra credit. He will make one drawing for each unit. I’ll count it as a major grade. I do not know what else to do to help him. It’s not exactly kosher, if you know what I mean, but…,” pause. He seems very enthusiastic about the opportunity. I know this is Jesus’ second time to take Biology, and I’m just trying to help him pass. Let’s keep this to ourselves, shall we? I did not know about his brothers. Were they artistic as well?”
“No, they wear regular ed?” long pause
“You went to a special ed meeting last year concerning Jesus?”
“Jes, an aird miting.” long pause
Ms. Rodriguez, could you spell that for me please?”
“Jes, Eh Err dee.”
“Do you mean ARD meeting?”
“Jes.”
“And what did they tell you in the ARD meeting last year?”
“Those pipl say Jesus ees artistic.”
“You mean autistic?”
“Jes.” long pause
Oh Jesus,” I said under my breath
“Hiss a good boy. Tank choo so berry mooch por hilping Jesus, Meester Esmeeth ”
“Thank you Ms Rodriguez,” I said, then, hung the phone up. I looked up and rolled my eyes.
Izzy, I want to take my response to your comments to this post “offline”—that is, I don’t want to include my response in my next main post. The reason is that I think the very valid issues you are raising are not ready to be addressed yet in my “strategic planning” analysis. Although teachers don’t have the luxury on a daily basis to compartmentalize a discussion of what to teach from how to teach it, I don’t think we can move a general discussion forward without trying to compartmentalize it. So, I do plan to address the issue of the tools we must give our teachers, students and parents, in the classrooms, the school facilities, and the neighborhoods, in order to effectively give students the knowledge they need. But that analysis will come next, after I finish discussing the curriculum we need in order to provide the “knowledge” we need to teach.
But let me try to touch on your examples briefly now. If I am reading your comments correctly, you are presenting two very real problems faced by teachers in many public schools today—the larger and more culturally and intellectually diverse student bodies include a lot of students who present some form of special need in the classroom as well as within their home environment—cultural, intellectual, linguistic (and many of them present more than one)—that has to be addressed by a teacher as he tries to effectively teach Although I believe their must be a common knowledge we give to all public school students, how that knowledge is taught may depend greatly on the type of student in each classroom. So, in the first comment the termite following the red line may be an effective way to reach most of the diverse students in that class for that given lesson on that day. I do not question the creative attempt to reach the students with the lesson. Instead, my question at this stage of our discussion is whether there has been enough contextual knowledge given to these students before that lesson for them to truly understand and retain the lesson about making a hypothesis in order to apply the lesson learned again later to another science problem. As a teacher, the problems of content, context and method are simultaneous challenges that are faced every day; but, from a strategic planning approach, we have to break those components down into sequential issues in order to address them effectively.
Your second comment has to be faced by policy makers—effective education doesn’t happen in just the vacuum of the classroom, but it involves parents and the community. One of my hopes in starting this conversation is to improve education, so that the type of parents you describe will themselves be better educated and want to better support their students and schools. But that is in the future, and the episode you illustrate is real and now. Frankly, I am not sure how we are going to address the families of, and other outside influences on today’s public school students without expanding our idea of what state and local governments see as the “student,” the “classroom,” and the “school.” Clearly, the problems exhibited by the parents you describe impede the students’ ability to learn by enabling them to avoid their classroom responsibilities, and impede the teacher’s ability to effectively teach—not just that students, but all the other students who may be affected by that student in the classroom. Rather than taking valuable teacher time to deal with these parents, or rather than write tickets to parents and send them off to JP court, maybe we will have to start requiring parents of failing students to attend adult school during the evenings or during times when they are not working, to improve their cultural knowledge and to force them to be responsible for their children’s education and assimilation. Of course some civil libertarians would be appalled at the notion of such state compulsion, and conservatives will holler at how to pay for such a program, but, in the short run, even the best curriculum, teachers and facilities won’t reach a lot of these students without demanding more from their parents—and the other adults in their community. And if our tax dollars are being compelled to pay for their education, we taxpayers can and should be allowed to expect, if not compel, something more from these parents in return.
Ed,
I am offering these posts to provide context into my second period. The scenarios I describe actually happened, as best as I can recall them. See if this one fits method or knowledged based instruction…
“How many chromosomes do humans have?” I asked the class.
“Twenty three, one hundred, fifty, forty six.” Several students said.
“Who said forty six?”
Several students shouted, “I did, I did.”
“Let’s give that young scientist, two claps,” Clap, clap. “Humans have forty six chromosomes.” I paused. “Twenty three, pairs,” I said flatly. “And where are those chromosomes located?”
No response.
“In your blood,” Matthew said.
“In your brain,” Blake said, looking around the room for approval. I paused and looked up at the ceiling.
“They are located in the cells,” I said. “Where in the CELL are they?” I asked, half cleverly. pause.
“Are they in the nucleus?” Brittany asked looking sheepish and slightly shocked. Sarah, who had a hearing impairment and wore two hearing aids, was turned around and looking at her. Then she turned back around and said flatly, “in the nookweus.” A few students chuckled. My face tighteded slightly to suppress a strong chuckle. Students looked at me to see my reaction. I said to myself, “Be professional, do not laugh.” I half turned away from the class, shut my eyes tight, and tried to suppress a strong chuckle. I stopped the urge just in time then turned back to face the class.
“That’s right,” I said. “The chromosomes are in the nucleus.”
“And young scientists, what are chromosomes made from?” I asked.
“Chromosomes are made from strands of DNA,” Missy said and shook back her hair.
“Very good,” I said, “let’s give Missy two claps.” Clap, clap. “And what do we call the shape of the DNA molecule?” I asked, then walked to the dry erase board and picked up a black dry erase marker. I drew a double helix, which looks like a twisted ladder without rungs. No response. “We call it the double helix,” I paused, then, out of nowhere, said, “Felix,” without expression. A few students chuckled.
Julio asked with a spanish accent, “Who ees Feeleex?”
“It was a yoke, Julio,” I said without expression still holding the black marker. Several students chuckled. “The shape of the DNA molecule looks like a twisted ladder or spiral staircase. We call that shape the double helix.”
“Why deejoo say the dooble heeleex, FEELEEX?” Julio asked. “My onkle’s nehm ees name Feeleex. He got chot.” The room erupted with laughter. Julio waited for just the right moment, then, said, “I’m keedeen Meester Esmeeth, he deednt get chot. I doan eben hab an onkle. The class laughed again.
“Haha, haha,” I laughed sarcastically just as the students finished laughing. “That’s as funny as a rubber crutch.” A couple of students laughed. I limped back to the dry erase board, put down the black dry erase marker and picked up blue, yellow, red and green markers. I held them up. “These are the nitrogen bases, young scientists,” I said to the class. I then drew a few random blue and green half rung nitrogen bases down the inside of the two black intertwined lines that represented the deoxyribose sugar and phosphate sides of the twisted ladder. I connected the other half of the rungs; red with green and blue with yellow. I drew a key on the board. Adenine=red, Thymine=green, Cytosine=blue, Guanine=yellow. “The sides of the ladder are made from sugar and phosphate,” I said pointing to the black twisted lines which formed the sides of the ladder. “The steps of the ladder are made from nitrogen bases, adenine, thymine, cytosine and guanine,” I said pointing to the bicolored nitrogen base pairs which were the rungs of the twisted ladder. “A T C and G are the nitrogen bases. A goes with T and C goes with G.” Say them with me young scientists,” I said.
Aaaaa goes withTeee, Ceee goes with Gee,” a few said.
“Say it again young scientists,”
Aaaa goes with Teee, and Ceee goes with Gee,” the class said with me.
And what are A, T C and G?” I asked. Pause
“Nitrogen bases,” Missy said then shook back her hair.
“That’s right! Let’s give Missy two claps.” Clap clap.
“And what do we call the shape of the DNA molecule, young scientists?” pause
“Ees de double helix,” Julio said.
“Just as I was about to say ‘Right’, Julio said “Feeleex.” The class laughed.
Izzy, sorry for taking so long to respond to your last comment, but life sometimes gets in the way of blogging.
I think that your description of the lesson about DNA could well illustrate a lesson consistent with knowledge-based teaching. One way to describe a knowledge-based approach that is based on current cognitive science is the way E.D. Hirsch describes it in Appendix 2 of his recent book, The Making of Americans: Democracy and Our Schools, “a coherent, rational, and sequential approach to content and vocabulary knowledge—not content-indifferent approach allowed by a mistakenly formal, purely procedural conception of “higher order” skills.” It is pretty clear that the lesson was building on content that had been learned earlier, either in earlier classes or reading assignments—the meaning of “chromosome”, the number of chromosomes each person has, the meaning and content of a “cell”, the meaning of “nucleus”, and the meaning of “DNA” and its relationship to chromosomes. You then built on this knowledge with the next rational step in the knowledge sequence: the lesson of the shape and composition of the DNA molecule.
In many ways, both math and science are more easily adaptable to a knowledge-based approach because of their focused and specific knowledge base and vocabulary, than are other subjects that rely on more general knowledge and vocabulary. However, proficiency in both subjects still require a “working memory” of base knowledge in language. For instance, in order to understand and calculate 2 + 2 = 4, a student must know that this formula means “two plus two equals four,” and understand the meaning of each of the words used in that phrase. If a student doesn’t fully grasp that vocabulary, it will be hard to ever make the calculation called for by the formula, let alone ever begin to figure out how to approach the calculation of 2 + 2/8 = x/100.
Each August, Teachers have a week if in-service workshops, some of which are selected by the district or Principal. These meetings present the latest greatest ideas on instruction. Usually a consultant will speak to the faculty after which the Teachers break into groups and do activities centered around whatever topic is chosen for that year. Examples are: Rigor, Relevance and Relationships, Mastery Learning, Teaching the Economically Disadvantaged, Differentiation and Inclusion. You may remember “New Math’, which was once new. I think I understand what you are saying when you differentiate knowledge-based versus mothod-based teaching. It has been my experience that the very best Teachers cherry pick ideas from each new training and incorporate those ideas into his classroom. Indeed foisting new approaches onto Teachers each year isn’t feesable and causes anxiety loss of instructional time. Good Teachers need less top down mandates. Also, the consultant is usually trying to sell a book. In Biology, there is so much knowledge in the curriculum that a Biology Teacher could just teach vocabulary. However, this would be a pretty boring class. Better to teach some vocabulary in lessons that help students learn how to think rather than how to memorize. By the way, do you know why the termites follow the red pen line? The red ink has a chemical similar to termite pheromones. There are many ways to to begin a unit on arthropods (or the scientific method) and I found that the termite lab was a clever introduction. Your series on Texas Education is well thought out and I appreciate Dave for providing a platform for this needed discussion.
Izzy, thanks for the compliment. I hope that by approaching these issues sequentially—from the curriculum through the public spending and taxing process, we can at least foster a more comprehensive discussion about education.
What you describe about the annual process of introducing new methods and new textbooks, and the individual “cherry picking,” is consistent with what I figured was going on as I watched my two oldest daughters, and my four foreign-exchange students go through the local public school systems over the last twenty years. My last daughter at home is going to private school, and it is very interesting to compare the similarities and differences to what the others experienced. What I saw in the public school experience, especially in the elementary grades, was an incoherence in what they were being taught from class to class, and from grade to grade. Good teachers with more experience, like yourself, have cherry-picked among the many ideas they been bombarded with, and have created a workable mix of knowledge and method to effectively teach their subject matter at their assigned grade level, but they can’t really rely on the rest of the school curriculum to support what they are teaching.
For instance, your lesson plan would be more effective if you could rely on a coordinated curriculum in which the words “cell” and “nucleus” had been first introduced in general vocabulary lessons; and then in sentences used in grammar lessons that primarily teach punctuation or sentence structure, but that secondarily teach and reinforce general content. An age appropriate story about how DNA was discovered could be introduced in a reading class, which would then introduce the words “chromosome” and “DNA” before or in the same time frame as the beginning of your science lessons. It is this type of coordination that seems to have been lost, but which students need to develop the “working memory” they need to process and use more and more information as the years go on.
You’re right biology would be pretty dull if all you did was teach vocabulary. Moreover, high-school (and higher-level) biology contains so much unique, Latin-based vocabulary that a high-school biology teacher must rely on earlier grade levels to have taught the more basic vocabulary and concepts. That, in turn, requires a coordinated, coherent, sequential teaching of knowledge across disciplines and at every grade level.