We’ve Got it ALL Wrong
When I was a high school English teacher, my students spent an entire week of our Julius Caesar unit decorating the classroom to look like ancient Rome. While many students in the other sections of 10th grade were busy working on study guides, my students were studying architecture and erecting carpet rolls into pillars, drawing replicas of the statues and art seen at that time that were hung up around my classroom and preparing to become ancient Romans. On one of these days, a principal was walking the halls and noticed that the entrance to my room now had pillars as seen in all the Caesar movies. He walked in and was shocked to find that he had been transported back to ancient Rome.
My students didn’t sit at their desks for that unit and take turns reading lines. Instead they requested parts and stood in the front of the classroom and acted the play out. It was a play after all, meant to be acted out, not read like a newspaper. I can pretty much guarantee you that my students had a much better understanding of Julius Caesar and what actually happened than the students who sat in other classrooms filling out 18 pages of study guide while they tried to read the play independently.
During my second year of teaching, the English teachers and administration decided that students should have 10-15 minutes of SSR (Silent Sustained Reading) in our classrooms. I was all for it. I knew that many of my students didn’t pick up a book outside of the classroom and I was happy that we were told to give them that time to read. Each quarter they created a cool project based on something they read. Some of my students crafted tattered looking journals of what it might be like to live on a deserted island. Others made fashion portfolios of what the styles might have been during the time period they were reading about. It was a great way to get others interested in the books and the students really seemed to enjoy sharing what they had read and learned.
Half way through the year, the administration changed their mind, and told us that we should instead use 10-15 minutes a day drilling out students with multiple choice questions as seen on the state tests. A veteran teacher and I spoke up. We told the administration that all the research out there says that teaching to the test teaches nothing but how to take that test. No real learning takes place. The research also states that students who are exposed to active learning, who aren’t forced to take standardized type test after standardized tests, actually do better on standardized tests overall. It didn’t matter. Despite a Master’s degree and many hours of classes that said otherwise, we were overruled. That was my last year of teaching.
Since I left the world of education, it’s only gotten worse. I have several friends who are still teaching in classrooms and the emphasis on testing, testing, testing, is stronger now than it ever was. Today I read an interesting article in The Wall Street Journal about students in Finland. The Finns are kicking our butts. I read the article with great interest and there are several things that stand out as much different from the classrooms of today.
First, the Finns don’t start going to school until they are over the age of seven (To all those who have silently shaken their head at me for not putting my kids in preschool or Big I in full day Kindergarten, read that line again). They rarely have more than a half hour of homework per night. They don’t have clubs, honor societies, sports or tracked classes, and there is little or no standardized testing. Despite the fact that their teachers have the freedom to come up with their own materials and choose the books and materials for their classrooms, the students score higher than every other country in the world in science. In math, they’re number two, coming in a point behind Taiwan. In reading, they score only slightly less than South Korea, also coming in second. In Finland, teachers are trusted to do what’s right for their students and they’re obviously doing it.
When people from other countries go to observe their classrooms, they find simple chalkboards, not technologically laden classrooms, an environment where the more advanced students are helping the slower students, highly educated teachers, and kids who take responsibility for their own learning and actions.
I can’t tell you how many times I had parents calling me to make excuses for their kids on why they couldn’t complete their homework or show up after school for extra help. Only about 30% of my students completed their homework each night. The other 70% didn’t want to take responsibility for their learning. These were the same students who came groveling to me the week before report cards came out asking if they could still turn in those 10 assignments that never got finished. I had parents and coaches who came lobbying for these special privileges as well. For the record, I never caved in. The Finns don’t seem to have these problems.
When they come here for student exchanges though, they are often asked to repeat the year upon returning. In the article, one student who spent a year in the states said that all her tests were multiple choice, a project consisted of spending an hour gluing a poster and most kids didn’t complete their homework. So why do teachers do these types of things when they obviously aren’t working for the students here?
Education administration is so ridiculously top-heavy. While there are plenty of good administrative people, there are plenty of people who sit at the top collecting top dollar salaries and dictating to teachers what’s best for their students when they haven’t stepped foot in a classroom in a decade. Administration and government need to get out of the classrooms and let the teachers do their jobs. Given the time and materials and freedom to do so, I think most teachers would choose to forgo the multiple choice tests that administration dictates are necessary and create more active learning environments where true learning takes place. There’s a reason why even my Special Education students had a better comprehension of Shakespeare than some of the other kids from classrooms where they just sat and read Caesar. I didn’t do anything in that unit that translated to state tests, but the learning was apparent.
While educators from around the world are studying how the Finns are getting it done, I think they should be looking in both the classroom and beyond. It’s not just how teachers are teaching in the classroom. It’s also the home life that matters. The truth is that there are a great many parents who are not involved enough in their children’s lives here. We have students who don’t take responsibility for their actions or education. We have a society full of people who don’t see the importance of learning for the sake of learning. This is something that has to change, and the first place it has to happen in order for us to compete with the rest of the world is in the home.
***Speaking of "education," Monday begins Admired Martial Artists Month here at BBM. I’m SO excited for Monday. The articles are rolling in from our esteemed list of contributors and I think you’re going to REALLY enjoy reading what they have to say! Grab the button and help spread the word! Thanks to Becky for all the great buttons!!!
Sleep Deprived
I’m going to bed entirely too late because I’m busy perusing the options sheet for our potential new house. I’m waking up entirely too early because once I’m awake I can’t go back to sleep. There are bathroom rugs to be washed and dishes to be put away and toys to be picked up and laundry to be folded. I’ve never been this organized in my entire life and it’s exhausting work.
I’m like a mini Martha Stewart. The other day, I caught myself considering folding the ends of the toilet paper the way they do in fancy hotels before our showing. Soon I’ll be putting chocolates on our own pillows and offering myself turn-down service. I think I’m losing it, but once you get on the Martha train, it’s hard to get off.
We have two showings scheduled so far for this weekend. One is a brand new first showing; the other a second showing. They’re both at the exact same time. I’m thinking that is really good for raking in some offers. Here’s hoping that a little whiff of competition brings the offers in ink. The only thing that stinks about them is that they are in the morning. We are a lazy crew around here. We’re rarely out of pajamas before noon on Saturday or Sunday and Mr. BBM and I like to linger over the leftover bacon and coffee for a couple hours and chat.
This weekend, we’ll be in high-powered cleaning and getting out of here mode and I’m not all that happy about it. The best possible scenario would be for a good offer to come in this weekend. Then we’ll know if we have to sacrifice the stone up to the sill or the 9 ft. basement ceilings on the new house, or if we can just go for them and not worry.
Our neighbors have offered to let us come over to their house during our showings. They said we’ll open a bottle of wine and spy on the newcomers through their office windows. I’m wondering if they’d mind if we switched the beverage to some serious coffee and whether or not pajamas and slippers would offend them. I can always offer them turn-down service and origami tissues and toilet paper. Then maybe they’ll let me take a very much needed nap.
A Pile of Dirt to Call My Own
Last night Mr. BBM and I placed a deposit on our chosen lot. Mr. BBM is excited/nervous and I am just plain ECSTATIC! The lot is nice and flat, backs up to common area with a walking trail that goes down to a park. It is exactly the kind of location I wanted for the girls. Our Realtor lives about two blocks away and told me that the neighborhood is crawling with little girls and families.
We just sent our list of chosen options to our Realtor. We’ll get price quotes this week and then we’ll write up our agreement. From the time we get a contract on our house, our new home will be ready in about 3.5 months. The timing is just about perfect, so that we can move in the summer and Big I can meet some kids in the neighborhood before starting at her new school.
We had a showing last night while we were at our meeting and our Realtor let us listen to the voice mail that the showing agent left for him. He wanted to know when we want settlement and also if there is any other interest in the house "in case we decide to write it up." Our Realtor raised his eyebrow and gave a little smile. This happened exactly 30 minutes after he told the builders representative that our house is going to go fast.
Last night, Mr. BBM and I put together a spread sheet of options. We know we’re going to probably have to make some cuts. He was trying to cut out my additional peak on the roof and I was trying to cut out his extra cable outlet. We almost took it to the basement to settle things the old fashioned way, but I don’t yet have my ACL brace so I figured we better not. Something tells me he’s probably right about it costing less for an extra outlet than for an extra peak on the roof.
It’s going to be so exciting, but I’m sure it will be stressful as well. Choosing carpet, cabinets, flooring colors (not pink), lighting fixtures. . .
I don’t think my feet have touched the ground all day though. I have the Pointer Sisters song "I’m so excited" just playing on repeat in my head. I am just so thrilled that we’re actually going to do this. Just think how much fun it will be to watch a pile of dirt turn into a new house. I’m planning on taking all of you along for the ride with us in the coming months. . .
I know you’re not supposed to use blow dryers in the bathtub, but I can totally blog from my new jacuzzi tub right? Don’t worry, I don’t plan on taking you along there.
Wishing on a House
Initial feedback from our one showing on Sunday is very good (we’re still waiting to hear the other feedback). So good in fact that they wanted to know how flexible we can be with a settlement date. My Realtor warned me to avoid getting on the roller coaster that is real estate until we have something in ink. No ink yet, but I’m at least glad that the initial feedback is good.
Apparently, the wife "loves it-can’t live without it" (I’ve SO been there myself) and the husband can be "brought on board" which basically boils down to: there are pink counter-tops in my kitchen and pink carpet in our bedrooms.
I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: we didn’t do it; we inherited it. If the wife loves this place as much as I did, I’m sure she’s telling her husband that "real men wouldn’t be bothered by pink" and that it "takes a manly man to be able to move in a house with so much pink." You know, build up his ego and get what you want. Here’s hoping she’s a smart cookie. Plus, there’s always the teal family room to equal things out.
We have yet another showing tonight and tonight is also our meeting with the builder people. Yesterday, I emailed our "wish list" to our Realtor. I divided it up into three categories "Must have," Would REALLY like," and "Would like." Included in the list of "must have’s" is the super bath package (I have lived with only a shower stall for the very last time), a gas fireplace, 9 ft. basement ceilings (How will I work with my bo if I don’t have this option?), some extended counter-top on the kitchen island, and some preferences regarding having stucco instead of siding.
It would be so incredible to go into tonight’s meeting with an offer on our house, but I realize this is probably wishful thinking. It is looking more and more likely though, that we will build our dream house instead of finding and potentially losing it. There is absolutely nothing on the market in our price range and desired location that isn’t full of nasty carpet, icky wallpaper, or strange smells, or a combination of all three and worse. Plus, all those houses who put jacuzzi tubs in the basement, because that totally makes sense (not). Mr. BBM and I are determined to purchase a home without wallpaper. We’ve already wasted too much of our life removing wallpaper from this house and Mr. BBM’s recent infusion of humor is probably directly related to how much wallpaper remover soaked into his skin recently. Here’s hoping that humor is the only side effect.
Weekend in Review
After driving around with only a printed out temporary drivers license, I finally forced myself to go to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) on Saturday to get my new license. Going to the DMV is a special kind of torture for me. I don’t know why, but it seems like only the dregs of society ever need to get their licenses renewed when I’m there. I stood in a line a good 30 people long to be given a number and told to go get my picture taken. Thank God for the internet, in that I could renew online and skip the first very long step involved with getting a renewed license.
My number came up and I trudged on in to the cubicle. An unsmiling young man greeted me and made me answer all the questions about voting registration and organ donation. He told me to sit down and look at the camera. He spoke in complete monotone. He took the first picture and wouldn’t even let me see it. He started shaking his head "no" and then asked me to remove my purse strap from my shoulder. Apparently, my shoulder strap was preventing him from getting a good shot of my face.
Whatever.
I removed my purse and he took the picture again. It wasn’t my best, but it wasn’t my worst either and I told him to just print it. Standing at the counter was awkward and my license was taking forever to print. I noticed that the young man was missing part of his name tag. To make small talk I said, "What happened? Did your dog chew up your name tag?"
He didn’t crack even a hint of a smile before responding in a monotone, "It just broke. I told them I need a new one, but they didn’t get me one yet. So I just wear this one."
"Oh," I said.
Then, I had to bite back laughter and tears as I read the leftover bit of his name tag. "Ken Pew." That is one man who seriously needs a new name tag.
After surviving the DMV, we decided to treat the girls to lunch at Friendly’s before hitting the museum. The other night our Realtor asked what we do with the girls for fun and Mr. BBM and I just sort of stared awkwardly at each other. We haven’t done anything in a really long time. With a Mommy who can’t walk for long periods of time, "fun" just doesn’t happen.
We had an enjoyable lunch and then it was time for dessert. Mr. BBM had ordered a meal that comes with a sundae as did the girls. They ordered their ice cream and Mr. BBM asked the waiter what type of sundae he was allowed to get with his meal. Before the server could answer, I figured I’d save the waiter the trouble since I had read the menu and said, "You get a ‘Happy Ending’."
He got fire engine red and started cracking up laughing. I blinked back at him and asked him what was so funny, but he was laughing so hard he couldn’t even speak. Meanwhile, the girls are staring at him, as is the waiter.
"What is your problem?" I asked.
"A happy ending" he blurts out, still hysterical.
The waiter started laughing as I told him to get his mind out of the gutter already. "We’re in a Friendly’s for God’s sake." Mr. BBM finally recovered enough to tell our waiter the flavor of ice cream he wanted and I was ready to smack him.
The museum went much better than the first two locales of the day, right up until Lil C threw herself on the gift shop floor and told us "going home is dupid (stupid)."
Fabulous.
She thrashed like a bucking bronco as Mr. BBM strapped her into her seat and them promptly fell asleep while we perused piles of dirt for our potential new home. Yes, we definitely needed to go have some fun.
That was Saturday.
Today we had two showings of our house. They were at 1 p.m. and 5 p.m. We cruised the neighborhood for the first one, and brought back fast food for lunch as yet another treat for the girls. Mr. BBM and I both drank super-sized diet cokes and then we headed back out to an open house to make sure our house didn’t get messed up before the 5 p.m. showing. These girls are little destructors.
We made the mistake of not using the bathroom before leaving and by the time we were finished walking through the open house, Mr. BBM and I were both in agony. We were in the middle of nowhere and thought we were going to die.
Big I started bugging us to change the DVD in the player and I was afraid that if I bent down to get another movie, my bladder would burst. So Mr. BBM told Big I that "Mommy and Daddy can’t concentrate because our teeth are floating." It was the worst possible thing he could have said.
We spent the next 20 minutes trying to explain what that saying meant as we maneuvered a ton of crazy back roads. On the home stretch for a brief bathroom stop at the house, Mr. BBM burped, sighed, and said, "I think I just burped up a little pee."
Usually Mr. BBM’s humor is completely lost on me. I just give him a look and we all move on. This, however, struck me so funny that I could hardly contain myself. Tears streamed down my face and I doubled over in pain as I tried to keep from peeing in my pants.
Needless to say, I insisted on getting in the house first.
We quickly exited in advance of our second showing and drove around the neighborhood again. Because Big I and I can get car sick by driving only one block, and because the liquids had been flowing freely all afternoon, we decided to stay sort of put for this showing. The apartments across the street from our house have parking spaces that face our house, obscured by some shrubbery. We spent 25 minutes remarking to each other, "They’re in the kitchen now. They just left the bedroom. They’re outside now," but truly it wasn’t good enough.
I think I’m using my Best Buy gift card to wire our house Jack Bauer style and we’re totally bringing our binoculars next time. Who says we don’t have any fun with the girls?
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