Latest Chapter from Barry Garelick, Math Teacher, Author Extraordinaire
This is the first in a series called “Out On Good Behavior: Teaching Math While Looking Over Your Shoulder” by Barry Garelick, a second-career math teacher in California. He has written articles on math education that have appeared in the Atlantic, Education Next, Education News and AMS Notices. He is also the author of three books on math education. Says Mr. Garelick: “If this series goes right, it will be the fourth book.”
1. Growth Mindset Look-alikes, and an Introduction to my Parole Officers
Monday in my eighth grade algebra class: I had warned/told the class on Friday that we would start a test on Monday. In most middle schools I have been in, teachers are warned not to give quizzes or tests on Mondays. My compromise was that we would spend the first part of Monday doing a review and I would answer any questions they had. They could then start the test and finish it up on Tuesday.
I knew full well that they would milk this to take up most of the class time. With about ten minutes of class time left I said “Time to start the test” which was met with the usual moaning that they weren't ready. I assured them that they were up to the task.
Someone asked "Is it because we have a 'growth mindset'?" They’d heard the phrase before, apparently. My reaction was immediate. "Oh please don't use that phrase 'growth mindset'. I absolutely hate it." The class roared with delight. It seems they weren't taken with it either. Their science and history teachers push the idea, and even have a "Growth Mindset" Monday in which students have to "visualize success”. Or something.
"My classroom is one place where you won't hear the words 'growth mindset'." I said, which was met with loud applause.
I recount this event not only to serve as an introductory to this series but also because it’s been a while since I last wrote about my forays into math education. This is my second year teaching math at a middle school in a small town in California. The second year at a job, like sophomore year at college, imbues those going through it with more confidence and willingness to test some of the rules. For example, starting a test on Monday or—more daringly--telling the class about my feelings towards the latest edu-fad—growth mindset.
Despite my new confidence, however, I still am careful to make it appear to outsiders that I am compliant with the current edu-thinking. In particular, I can always point to the fact that I give my students confidence by providing them the necessary instruction that results in success. Success breeds motivation and engagement, the two magic words that people want to hear. Providing my students with the “tools to succeed” will serve as my growth mindset lookalike so I appear to be toeing the party line to people like mentors—otherwise known as my parole officers.
You are no doubt wondering what I am talking about, so let me explain. In California, new teachers have to go through what is called an "induction" program. For teachers’ first two years, a mentor is assigned with whom teachers meet once a week. During these visits they may ask about what is going on in the various classes, make suggestions, classroom observations, and so on. I have had two different mentors or each year I’ve been at the school. I’ve come to think of them as "parole officers", ensuring that the newly released prisoners from ed school adhere to the bad and ineffective practices taught there.
I had met with my first one well before the school year began just to see what I was going to be dealing with. She was a woman in her 60’s who had taught high school biology for thirty years. She talked about what is involved with math education and the topic of math anxiety.
“I want to give you one piece of advice about math,” she began. Given my experience in ed school and beyond, I knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. “Students should do math not only in the classroom, but outside; give examples of real world problems. For example, take fractions.” She paused for emphasis and said "And I wish they would just do away with them, but there they are so we have to deal with them".
My response: “I guess.”
What I didn’t say: "Ma'am, you do realize who you're talking to don't you?"
She then went on and described how students could measure a table, say, with fractions of inches and then find the area, and perimeter. She maintained that many students dislike math because they find it irrelevant, remarking as proof, that it is common for adults to say: "What on earth did I learn algebra for?"
I let a few minutes pass as she talked about relevance and then said that in my experience with word problems or any kind of problems, the relevance to real-life never mattered to me. “The usefulness of algebra always seemed evident to me,” I said.
“That’s probably because you liked math and had an interest in it, and therefore had an inclination to learn it. But there are some kids who, for whatever reasons, hate it, and have a hard time with it.” It was clear she had given this speech before and actually believed it; a speech in which people like me were the exception to a rule that the education establishment accepted without question and—paraphrasing wildly here—had I been normal I would have hated math too.
I thought I’d give it another shot. “I find that when students know how to do something, the relevance of the problem really doesn’t matter,” I said. “But when they can’t do something, they get frustrated and that’s usually when they ask ‘When am I ever going to use this stuff?’ ”
She blinked her eyes in what she probably thought communicated tolerance. “There are going to be students who don't like it and for whatever reason have difficulties with some aspects of math,” she said as if that were the final word on the subject. Over the months that I worked with her, she would say what she had to say, throw out a few ideas for me to consider and would assure me that these were suggestions and I was not compelled to do any of them. This would turn out to be very good news given that she had no shortage of bad ideas,.
I definitely prefer my second parole officer assigned to me this year.
My second parole officer who you will meet in subsequent chapters, was much more open to hearing my ideas and not quite so smitten with pushing ineffective ones. In fact I liked her a lot. If this were a movie, she would be played by Diane Keaton. The first would be played by Helen Mirren. For easy reference, I will refer to them as Helen and Diane.
I think that probably gives you some ideas where things stand for now.
1. Growth Mindset Look-alikes, and an Introduction to my Parole Officers
Monday in my eighth grade algebra class: I had warned/told the class on Friday that we would start a test on Monday. In most middle schools I have been in, teachers are warned not to give quizzes or tests on Mondays. My compromise was that we would spend the first part of Monday doing a review and I would answer any questions they had. They could then start the test and finish it up on Tuesday.
I knew full well that they would milk this to take up most of the class time. With about ten minutes of class time left I said “Time to start the test” which was met with the usual moaning that they weren't ready. I assured them that they were up to the task.
Someone asked "Is it because we have a 'growth mindset'?" They’d heard the phrase before, apparently. My reaction was immediate. "Oh please don't use that phrase 'growth mindset'. I absolutely hate it." The class roared with delight. It seems they weren't taken with it either. Their science and history teachers push the idea, and even have a "Growth Mindset" Monday in which students have to "visualize success”. Or something.
"My classroom is one place where you won't hear the words 'growth mindset'." I said, which was met with loud applause.
I recount this event not only to serve as an introductory to this series but also because it’s been a while since I last wrote about my forays into math education. This is my second year teaching math at a middle school in a small town in California. The second year at a job, like sophomore year at college, imbues those going through it with more confidence and willingness to test some of the rules. For example, starting a test on Monday or—more daringly--telling the class about my feelings towards the latest edu-fad—growth mindset.
Despite my new confidence, however, I still am careful to make it appear to outsiders that I am compliant with the current edu-thinking. In particular, I can always point to the fact that I give my students confidence by providing them the necessary instruction that results in success. Success breeds motivation and engagement, the two magic words that people want to hear. Providing my students with the “tools to succeed” will serve as my growth mindset lookalike so I appear to be toeing the party line to people like mentors—otherwise known as my parole officers.
You are no doubt wondering what I am talking about, so let me explain. In California, new teachers have to go through what is called an "induction" program. For teachers’ first two years, a mentor is assigned with whom teachers meet once a week. During these visits they may ask about what is going on in the various classes, make suggestions, classroom observations, and so on. I have had two different mentors or each year I’ve been at the school. I’ve come to think of them as "parole officers", ensuring that the newly released prisoners from ed school adhere to the bad and ineffective practices taught there.
I had met with my first one well before the school year began just to see what I was going to be dealing with. She was a woman in her 60’s who had taught high school biology for thirty years. She talked about what is involved with math education and the topic of math anxiety.
“I want to give you one piece of advice about math,” she began. Given my experience in ed school and beyond, I knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. “Students should do math not only in the classroom, but outside; give examples of real world problems. For example, take fractions.” She paused for emphasis and said "And I wish they would just do away with them, but there they are so we have to deal with them".
My response: “I guess.”
What I didn’t say: "Ma'am, you do realize who you're talking to don't you?"
She then went on and described how students could measure a table, say, with fractions of inches and then find the area, and perimeter. She maintained that many students dislike math because they find it irrelevant, remarking as proof, that it is common for adults to say: "What on earth did I learn algebra for?"
I let a few minutes pass as she talked about relevance and then said that in my experience with word problems or any kind of problems, the relevance to real-life never mattered to me. “The usefulness of algebra always seemed evident to me,” I said.
“That’s probably because you liked math and had an interest in it, and therefore had an inclination to learn it. But there are some kids who, for whatever reasons, hate it, and have a hard time with it.” It was clear she had given this speech before and actually believed it; a speech in which people like me were the exception to a rule that the education establishment accepted without question and—paraphrasing wildly here—had I been normal I would have hated math too.
I thought I’d give it another shot. “I find that when students know how to do something, the relevance of the problem really doesn’t matter,” I said. “But when they can’t do something, they get frustrated and that’s usually when they ask ‘When am I ever going to use this stuff?’ ”
She blinked her eyes in what she probably thought communicated tolerance. “There are going to be students who don't like it and for whatever reason have difficulties with some aspects of math,” she said as if that were the final word on the subject. Over the months that I worked with her, she would say what she had to say, throw out a few ideas for me to consider and would assure me that these were suggestions and I was not compelled to do any of them. This would turn out to be very good news given that she had no shortage of bad ideas,.
I definitely prefer my second parole officer assigned to me this year.
My second parole officer who you will meet in subsequent chapters, was much more open to hearing my ideas and not quite so smitten with pushing ineffective ones. In fact I liked her a lot. If this were a movie, she would be played by Diane Keaton. The first would be played by Helen Mirren. For easy reference, I will refer to them as Helen and Diane.
I think that probably gives you some ideas where things stand for now.
Do your parole officers, er, Helen and Diane, have copies of your books?
ReplyDeleteThere's an ongoing activity on "growth mindset" in a local school. The kids had to complete a tutorial on Khan, where they were asked to name their "fixed" mindsets. As if the kids weren't already rolling their eyes at all the "growth" activities, which take time away from getting their work done,... this activity took the cake.
Kids and parents alike applaud your calling a spade a spade, Barry! Enough with the edu-fads...