Setting Goals… In a Year Like This: 3

Sometime last spring when “this lockdown thing will be over soon“, and “let’s plan for life after COVID” seemed like reasonable statements in reference to fall 2020, I pitched a plan to a couple of programs to do some instructional coaching.

We’ll do it, right“, I said. We’ll start from strengths and build a culture of support, and I’ll work with teachers on goals and action plans that are relevant to them. 

It’s a good plan. And two programs agreed. And a funder. And I was glad to have something to look forward to. (#selfcare)

And, then, fall 2020 came and we are not in life after COVID. We are still in emergency remote teaching, making hybrid work as best we can or somehow teaching while socially distant. 

But, I’ve got this grant. And it says we’re setting teaching goals. 

So. 

Yeah. 

How in the world do you set teaching goals in a year like this? 

Image of a typewriter with the world 'Goals' on a piece of paper. 
Text: "Thinking about Goals.. in a Pandemic" Mathacognitive

It’s a good question. 

I have a whole bunch of answers for normal times.  I love goals. I love setting them, and there are few things I love more than checking them off.

But, these are not normal times. (As if we needed to say that) 

And, pretending we can operate like normal times is not helping; it’s making too many teachers (even more) frantic/stressed/overwhelmed

These are times for granting ourselves and others some compassion, and recognizing that some of the energy we might like to spend on goals is already committed. We’re spending it on living through a pandemic, learning a new way to teach, supporting our families and friends, on (too) many other essential tasks.  

My normal list of a dozen teaching goals is not happening this year.

But, some of us (still) find goals helpful. 

They can give us focus in crazy times, and provide a sense of progress. And, I think, all of us can benefit from bringing some level of intention to this strange chapter and all that we are navigating. 

So, 3 ways to think about goals, even in a pandemic. 

Oxygen Masks

We need self care more than ever. So, one way to think about goals, is to think about committing to practices that will help us through these times.  We might ask: 

  • What will I intentionally not do, to make mental space and time for the things I have to do?  (I will not do more than 3 takes of any videos; I will not check my work email on Friday nights …)  This fully counts as a goal to my overachiever, perfectionist self. 
  • What practices will I incorporate into my teaching or my life because they fill me up, even in the midst of all that is 2020?
  • What habits or routines of self care will I seek out to maintain my energy? 

Reaching Out

Taking care of others can be a path to compassion fatigue and burn out. It can also be a source of motivation, purpose, grounding and fulfillment. (The random links my internet browsers sends me told me so , but it is true) Just, know yourself and your limits, ok? 

  •  Is there a particular, impactful way you want to maintain (or cultivate) connections, to show others you care?  With your students, your colleagues, others? 
  • Is there a project or cause, however small or large, you can devote some time to to combat feelings of helplessness or frustration?

Looking Forward

This crisis will not last forever. Sometimes it’s hard to believe, but it is true. You might find it helps you cope to think about life-after. (You might also end up with a grant still in a pandemic… or maybe that’s just me) 

  • Hard times can bring clarity and focus.  If 2020 has clarified any priorities, goals or dreams, we  might consider what steps we can take now to prepare for or pursue them. 
  • We’ve all had to grow and learn this year,  perhaps you want to expand, re-purpose or leverage your new skills in the future? 

Some caveats, as we set goals, in the middle of a year like this.

Lets set goals that help us through, not weight us down; lets set process goals, not outcomes (because we can only control what we can control).

And let’s hold them gently — whatever goals we might set –as inspiration and intention, not sources of stress and pressure

I Wish my Students Knew (Sharing teaching values to build classroom culture)

I am not, generally speaking, a fan of making videos. (Or, often, of slide decks)

I feel self conscious on video, and do too many takes, and I’m not even really a video-watching fan, and we’re doing zoom sessions anyways, and, well, it’s just not my favorite thing.

But, when I started planning for this year, I knew there was one video I would definitely be making: a screencast of the my “Wish my Students Knew” presentation.

I’ve been trying to figure out how we establish a classroom culture, when we don’t have an actual classroom. It’s puzzling, but core values still seem like the place to start.


Originally Published Feb. 2018, updated fall 2020

I kind of knew what I wanted in a classroom culture: support, and listening, and welcome, and a palpable belief in every student. But, I wasn’t always sure how to create it. I would not have guessed part of the answer was PowerPoint.

I had been using ‘What I wish my teacher knew….’ to start my classes. I love this. It’s beautiful, and valuable, and works at least as well for centering the teacher (and reminding me why I do this!) as it does for giving voice to the students.

So, as I pondered all of the misconceptions, and information gaps, and misunderstandings about math learning that my students started with, I added, ‘What I Wish my Students Knew…’. 

A dozen or so slides with some key ideas that I share in some form or fashion every first week. It’s my chance — before we start with the variables and the word problems, in the middle of the attendance policies and school calendars — to tell them what I think is really important to know about math class. (And to start to debunk a few things many think they know)

It doesn’t create a culture by itself, but it sets a nice foundation. They know where I stand, and what I believe.

I’ve been adding to it as I think of new wishes, and playing with the presentation format. I’ve given this as a straight-up powerpoint, a gallery walk, a read-around, had pairs look at a few slides, and now, a video.

And, if some administrator ever comes looking for a teaching philosophy, this might be what I hand them.

So, without further ado (but with commentary)

Stack of books with text "What I Wish My Students Knew.. Sharing teaching values to build classroom culture in person or online

I wish my students knew…

… Everyone can learn math. (They are often fairly certain that this is not true, at least as applied to them.) (( If they learn this, I don’t care if they learn another thing))

… But we don’t all learn the same way, or at the same pace. And that’s ok

 

 … I hated my math class in high school. (I often talk about Mr. B – -, whose teaching style combined with the difficulty but apparent irrelevancy of cosines to my life, to convince me that I wasn’t a math person) ((I hope they hear “I can empathize”))

… Turns out I don’t mind math as an adult. And I love teaching it. (I hope they hear, ‘it can change’)

…You don’t have to like math to learn it. … But it feels really good when you get something that you thought was hard. (Those moments are the reason I keep doing this job)

… Most of math looks scary… until you learn it. (I’m a big fan of exposure therapy for math anxiety  “Look at this thing we’re going to do today….” …”Hey, nice job, maybe that crazy-looking thing wasn’t so bad)

 

… You really learn math when you do math. Not when you listen to or watch me do math. (So, no, we’re not going to sit in rows facing the board)

… You’re learning the most when you’re working on something that you can just about figure out, but it’s still kind of hard.

… Mistakes happen. Even to me. And it’s no big deal (I put mine on the board for all to see)

Being a good learner is its own skill. Everyone learns in different ways and it will make your life easier when you figure out the best ways for you (Metacognition, my personal crusade)

… Checking your answers helps you learn. If you do more than mark it right/wrong, and instead figure out how to fix your mistakes. (Answer keys are a fixture in class and a learning tool, except for all the past-teachers in their heads scolding them about cheating. )

… It’s natural, but frustrating, for your brain to have a hard time remembering something you only do once a week. The best remedy is to do math more often (Study at home!) (Our biggest challenge, my constant plea)

… Asking questions is how you take charge of your learning, and get the information you need. Also, I’m a terrible mind reader. (Phrased for those with trouble asking for help, and for those who just want to help)

… It’s ok to ask for help. Better than ok actually.  (Some things bear repeating)

I added a version of this (adapted lightly to be slightly more universal) and to my  subscriber resources. Enjoy!

(If you use it, please leave a comment telling me how it fits in your class)

Making Answer Keys a Teaching Tool

I give out the answers. 

I tell my students that I’m going to on the first day of class. I think, they think I’m crazy. Or lying.

And then I give them work the next class with the answers on the back (or, this year, at the end of the digital file) and they think I’ve made a mistake.  (Many assume it is a strange and indecipherable worksheet, because the reality of an answer key is so unexpected)

It’s not a mistake.

It’s an intentional and powerful teaching choice. 

Note: My classes are ungraded. I love this aspect of my teaching, and it’s common in adult education, but your experience may be different depending on your context. I’d be curious to hear your experience in the comments.

Why I give out answer keys: 

More-or-less practical reasons:

  • Students get immediate feedback on their work  (especially valuable this year, when we’re dealing with remote learning and asynchronous work)
  • Sharing the task of checking work with the students frees up time for more impactful tasks. I can look briefly at their work with the goal of assessing and providing verbal feedback, not marking each item. 
  • It also lowers the barriers to differentiation and independent work.  It’s easier (for me) to imagine students working on 3 or 4 different things, when I don’t have to worry about tracking and correcting 3 or 4 different things or getting everyone finished at the same time to go over the answers as a class.
  • It helps develop independence in learning. Students’ aren’t dependent on me to provide feedback, or stuck waiting for me to give them that feedback (wasting limited class time). They can check and move on, or ask a more informed question if they got it wrong.

These are good reasons and real benefits to both me and my students. But, they are far from the most important reasons: 

Giving the answer keys conveys trust and respect. Adult ed students didn’t always have the best experiences in school, they might have felt judged. They rarely felt trusted. It’s powerful to hand them the thing their previous teachers probably kept locked away.

Even beyond that, I can think of no more powerful statement that the point is not to the answer, the point is the learning that leads to or flows from that answer. 

What answer keys don’t do: 

Provide nuance or guidance. Knowing the answer is B or 17.2, is only so helpful. This is true whether they get that information from the key, or from a hurried teacher-correction. We know this, and we all want to provide quality feedback. I ask students to check their work in class, but I also look at it as I’m conferencing and provide the guidance and nuance. Do you understand why it’s B? How did you get to C? It looks like you did ___, have you tried ___?  

Encourage cheating: I always tell students they can’t cheat. No grades means they’re only hurting themselves if they copy the answers without understanding, and few do. Also, they are adults who are choosing to participate. They know they need to learn this stuff to meet their goals, and that there’s no reward or punishment for the number of right answers on the class work. As a result, I’m more likely to get people who are afraid to use the answer keys because that seems like cheating than people who are actually just copying

How to make answer keys a teaching tool: 

In all honesty, the hard part of this is not the practical reforms, it’s the mindset shift for both teacher and students.

Except… textbook publishers don’t make the keys easy to read. You might have to help students navigate the dense paper-saving pages they provide.  When I’m on it, I draw a star or box before I photocopy, but I’m not always that on it.  We manage.

  • Change how you make copies. If you have a student version separate from the answer keys, there’s a transition period of reuniting them for each round of copies
  • The first time, take a few minutes explain to students why they have the keys, and how to use them as a learning tool. 
  • As students work and check their work, model how to engage the keys as a learning tool:  Student: “Will you check this?” Teacher:  “You’ve got the answers here. I’ll check the first couple with you…” “Ok, so your answer is different from the key, can you figure out why?” (Also, Repeat. This is a skill. It takes some practice.)

My resident curmudgeon and long time student now tells the new people how long he resisted the answer keys (boy did he) but that they’re actually kind of helpful and not cheating. If you knew him, you’d know that’s a powerful endorsement 🙂

Infographic. Title"Give the Answers: Using Answer Keys in Adult Ed Classes" 
Why? 
Immediate Feedback
Teacher Time
Differentiation
Independence
Trust & Respect 
Focus on learning

How? 
Change copy routine
Explain to students
Model active learning

Planning Helps (Or: Supporting students to succeed as online learners)

Pandemics. Living through a pandemic. Teaching in the middle of a pandemic. Learning while living through a pandemic. 

Let’s just acknowledge: this is hard. 

Actually, it’s many different kinds of hard.

But the kind of hard I’m thinking about today is how it makes it hard to plan, but also, how much planning helps all the other hard things. 


I’m back to remote teaching this month.

My students’ tech access is limited, and demands on everyone’s time are high, and I have a well-honed set of routines and teaching tools that are not all going to transfer, and it’s hard to let go of things I’ve worked to create. 

But, we’re all making the best of it.

As teachers, we’re making new plans, discovering new tools, crafting new routines, finding new ways to support our students. 

And, like I said, I’m thinking about first principles. Today: Planning Helps

Photo of a laptop and a woman writing in a notebook. 

Text: Distance Learning is Hard. Planning Helps. 
Helping students plan and complete online learning. 
Mathacognitive.

It’s helping me figure out a curriculum and new tools and design video conferencing classes.

It’ll help my students, as they figure out video conference classes and asynchronous work, and their kids’ video conferences or hybrid schedules or strange new in-person school routines. 

But, especially, asynchronous work. 

Homework has always been hard for my students

So, we’ve learned to plan. 

We make a plan at the beginning of the term.

And a back up plan 

And we check in on  it a few times. 

We pool our best ideas to improve our plans.

And then we make a new plan for when vacations happen, or big exams approach, or something else changes. 


Planning doesn’t solve everything. Some students never consistently make homework work. Some weeks, even for the most dedicated student, other things take priority. But, it helps. 

So, in between all the new plans I’m making for this new year, I’m planning to keep our homework planning. 

    I updated my PDFs using TPT’s nifty digital activity tools.

And I’m adding planning, and supporting, and re-planning, and checking-in on plans to my synchronous lessons. 

    And, I’m searching for good resources about how to help my students navigate (and plan!) for this new school year. (A few below, please share more!)

Planning Principles : Points on the Board in the First Class

It’s been a while since I wrote, here. Honestly, it has been hard to write about teaching, while everything about my teaching has been so upended by the pandemic. After a spring of emergency remote teaching, I (really) needed the summer break. I’m coming back soon to still-remote, but better planned remote teaching, and I’m looking forward to being back here more.

2020 update:

A few weeks before COVID, I started a new class, with a new group of students, and a new context. And, then, like everyone, I started (abruptly) to figure out remote work and online learning, turning on a dime, doing our best to navigate. I’ve started a few new things, professionally in the last year. And now, again, starting a new thing: a full semester online (for me, maybe hybrid or socially distanced for you).

I’m finding it calls me to think about first principles. In times of change, what do we know to be true about teaching and learning, regardless of the other stuff.

There are undoubtedly more elegant and insightful thoughts, but also: my thought in planning for the first day, the new year, the fresh imperfect start is ‘get a win’. 

For my skeptical mandated students, who weren’t interested in my name games 

And for my students, used to our supportive classroom, abruptly plunged into online learning

For my new this term students, and for me, never great at transitions.

Get a win. 

Teach a piece of math that we can all learn. 

Provide a sense of progress in the chaos.

Start the momentum, set the tone, take the first step. 

The first step is the hardest. But there’s nothing like making it, to remind you that you can take it. 

And the next one. And the next.

Text:  Points on the board. Starting a new class or a new unit right.  Mathacognitive. 

Image of a vintage scoreboard. 

Planning for the first day of a new school year or new term

Originally published March 2018, revised and republished 2020

Things that are different about adult ed:

Students don’t all start in September, stay in my class through June, and then move on to the next class after summer vacation.

They start when they’re ready, place into the class that suits their skills, stop when life gets in the way or when they’re ready to take a test and succeed, move to a new class when the teaching staff thinks they’re ready for it.

There are ways that this is beautiful (learn at your own pace! Education organized around the student not the calendar!) And ways that this is challenging (So many moving pieces. And I am not great at chaos). We manage it as best we can by starting and moving bunches of students together at a few scheduled points throughout the year.

All of which is to say, I get more than your average level of practice at first classes.

At least three times a school year, a third or more of my class is new. They might be new to my class, moving from a lower level where they were cruising along comfortably – feeling like the smart kid for once – to a new more challenging class. They might be in a math classroom for the first time in five or fifteen years (and feeling ready to get their HiSET, but maybe not so ready for math class) or back to school after a break to handle whatever life threw at them.

Different reasons, but for all practical purposes a new class.

So, first days of school. Name games and homework policies. What I wish my teacher (and students) knew. All of the standard stuff.

But, also.

Principles I’ve learned through multiple first days every year of my teaching career:

Get points on the board.

Meaning: By the end of the first class – between the introductions and the policies and the questions – be able to point to some math and say  –truthfully, universally — “we learned that.”

This is a worthy goal for any class, but especially for first classes, when we’re trying to set a tone that is not “OK, we’ll pick this up next class”. For the new students, in particular, it’s much needed proof that they can handle this, the first piece of tangible evidence in the case I’m building that ‘yes, you can learn math’

And, this, I think, is a goal for all of us, whether you have one first day or seventeen.

With apologies to the standards, I don’t think it matters so much what they learn that day, just that they learn.

So, my criteria for getting points on the board:

  • A one off. Something self-contained, not requiring anyone to have been here last week, or to come back next week to learn.
  • As close to guaranteed success as teaching allows. I’ve rearranged significant parts of curriculum to teach an easy win on the first day. (A student who leaves their first class feeling lost is off to a very rough start.)
  • Bonus points: An activity that incorporates getting to know you and math in one.  (Like these) Also, group work.

I often do something on the order of gather data about our class and analyze it.  (These proportions weren’t a first-class, but it’s of a type. These strategies for getting un-stuck were a my last first class.)

I have another first-class coming up. As I write, I’m still waiting for inspiration, but I’m clear on my goal: get a win.

Habit Stacking: End of Term Reflections

I’m trying out a new end of term reflection.

You don’t know me well enough to know that this is not news.

I’ve tried a new end of term reflection approximately every other term of my teaching career. Obviously, I like the idea, but it rarely feels as reflective/meaningful/helpful as I hope.

This terms’ effort is motivated by three thoughts –

They need more scaffolding if they’re going to produce meaningful, helpful reflection

I need to pick something and stick to it (for my sake, and theirs)

It’s easier to stick to something by building on an existing habit, than creating new habits from scratch (aka habit stacking )

 

So, my new end of term reflection, for now and for future terms, in three steps

  1. Reread all of the metacognition they’ve already done.

I’ve been saving their exit tickets in a big pile on my desk (not sure what I’d need them for, but sure they would be good for something) + their homework folders and their review folders each contain a weekly comment about their progress or process.

Because, data helps.

And because it’s hard to hold a whole term in your head at once, and even harder to see yourself clearly.

  1. Write observations about themselves as learners this term, based on their review of the available evidence.

I’m structuring these as “I notice ____” to nudge them towards the specific, and asking for three.

  1. Give their future selves advice

I’m pointedly not taking these (although I’m taking a look) Instead, I’m asking students to put their advice someplace where they’ll notice it when they need it.

Here’s a copy of my end of term reflection

What I like about this plan:

It feels doable – for me and for them. 10 minutes of class time, I can do that. 3 sentence stems and some advice, they can do that.

It builds on what we’re already doing, so it feels connected. But also, I hope knowing they’ll be re-reading them and using them, nudges students to give more thought to the short metacognitive comments they were already writing.