Certifiable?

When I got home from work on January 23, there was an open letter on the table near the door. From NBPTS and dated January 9, it said I hadn’t submitted the required forms to confirm my eligibility. If I didn’t do so by January 31, I was out of luck. As in, not a candidate this year.

My first response, of course, was to yell toward the kitchen, in the general direction of my wife: “Didn’t you SEE this? This is serious! (yadda, yadda, yadda).” She calmly explained that she’d only opened it earlier that day, and she knew I’d see it when I got home (yadda, yadda, yadda). Meanwhile, my 6-year old was mocking me from the living room, quoting the catchphrase of the lisping duckling in Wonder Pets, our 2-year old’s current favorite show: “Thith ith THEE-rious.”

I gathered my wits about me and resolved to deal with the situation in a level-headed way. I ran downstairs to my office, logged onto the NBPTS website, and searched for the forms. What forms? Where were the flipping forms on this website? I would have to do this tomorrow. It was time to go teach night school. (Did I mention that I have picked up a freshman comp class at NOVA two nights a week? Now that the GMU course is over, the hardest working teacher in the education business moves on. You know me: It’s All About the Money.)

The next morning I had a free period first block. I called NBPTS, but their help lines were busy. At 9 am, EST? There must be a million teachers out there trying to file this paperwork, I think.

Next I call Gail, the FCPS NBTPS guru. Always accessible, knows the answer or can find it. She doesn’t pick up. I leave a message, my tone one of thinly veiled desperation: I can’t find the forms. I start composing an email to Gail to explain that I can’t find the forms. Multitasking, I log onto the NBPTS website. I find the forms.

I print the 15 page pdf and begin reading desperately. It’s tough to skim legalese. Also, they aren’t numbered and all the instruction pages get mixed up. They look more or less the same, but I’m sure I’m missing crucial differences in prepositions.

The crux of the problem rapidly becomes clear: I’ve been too peripatetic. I’ve taught at TJ in FCPS for 2 yrs; before that, at an independent school for 2 yrs; before that, at another high school in Fairfax County for 10 years. Because I haven’t stayed for the last three years in one school district, I need to fill out various forms to prove that I’ve been teaching at licensed schools. Do I have to get them signed at ACDS? Do I need to go through FCPS HR? Or, worse yet, George Mason’s registrar, to prove I have a diploma? I am sunk.

I take a deep breath. It’s not the end of the world. What do I have to lose if I am declared ineligible? There’s the time I’ve sunk into three nearly finished portfolio entries. This blog. My professional reputation. Oh God… the registrar at GMU? Who do I know at GMU? Can I go there on the upcoming teacher work days? They’re sticklers over there. Yadda yadda.

I take a deep breath. I call NBPTS again. I’m number one in the queue. Someone answers the phone! I explain my situation, interrupting myself to ask about the date on the letter: January 9? How could I get a letter this important 2 weeks late? How can I do this in one week?

She interrupts calmly: “We had an ice storm. The mail got held up.” Ice storm? In Texas? An act of God—does that get me an extension? My mind is whirring.

“Sir?... Sir!...” The voice is pulling me back. Don’t go towards the light…

“You only need to fill out one form. You also need to copy your teaching license and send that along. You can fax it to us. Do you have the fax number?”

Beat.

“Sir?”

“Yes,” I mumbled. “One form? Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. Do you need the fax number?”
“I’ve got the fax. Are you sure I can fax it?”
“Yes, you can fax it. Just get it here by January 31st.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure how many times I repeat it.

Epilogue

I went home. I filled out the form. I found a bar code label in the blue box and added that to the form. The next day, I took it to school, and the principal’s secretary stamped it and faxed it to Texas.

It was done. All had not been lost. With a sigh of relief, I sat down to this keyboard after lunch to type out my sad story. To purge. To move on with my life.

Near the end of the post, a familiar ding announced the arrival of a new email message. I clicked over. It was the principal’s secretary:

I got a fax report after we faxed your paperwork that says there was no answer on the other end. I’ll try again in a bit. They may have a problem on their end with their fax machine, or it might be out of paper, or who knows what.

Posted by Emmet Rosenfeld at 3:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

It’s true that I said, “It’s all about the money,” and also wondered whether or not the NBPTS process might have a negative impact on my teaching this year, as reported in Michael Alison Chandler’s Washington Post Jan 22 article about the National Board, “Teachers Tackle Their Own Extra Credit.”

Unfortunately, Ms. Chandler failed to mention anything else I said during our recent hour-long phone interview. She took my comments out of context, successfully offering me up as a grumbling cynic in counterpoint to the smiling super teacher in the article and accompanying photo, a Loudon educator shown in front of gaily decorated bulletin boards and an American flag while her students’ achievement practically soars off the page. First: kudos to Ms. Morales, the Loudon teacher, who got certified last year and now has a reason to smile. Please excuse my pique, which is not at all directed at you, as I’m sure you are motivated and excellent at your job.

Shame on Ms. Chandler, who I now realize clearly had me pegged as the bad guy her piece needed before our interview ever took place, and who sacrificed truth and nuance in order to put an edge on her story.

For the record, let me clarify the context in which my comments were made. The interview occurred on a Friday at around 5 in the afternoon. Our school had let out early due to an electrical problem, and so I found myself at 1:00 with an unexpected few hours on my hands. I promptly set to work in my empty trailer on Entry Three, and four hours later… presto! I had written 6 of the required 11 pages. Total cost to me: a lost afternoon that I would otherwise have spent with my sons.

I hopped into my car at that point to drive to the National Board support class at another high school. This is when I called Ms. Chandler for the interview. She had doggedly tracked me down, leaving numerous voice and emails, and even going through Fairfax bureaucracy to get approval to interview me. At the time, I was impressed by her diligence, but now I suspect it was my ambivalence she was after. Having read my highs and lows on the blog, I was her best bet as a source from which to harvest a few anti-NBPTS soundbites.

And harvest she did:
"It's all about the money," said Emmet Rosenfeld, an English teacher at Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology in Fairfax County, explaining why he put himself through what he described as an "excruciating" process.

She left out the question she asked me before this response. I recall it as being something like, “So, it’s all about the money then, would you say that’s true?” I remember agreeing with a laugh.

The next choice bit Ms. Chandler cherry-picked from our rambling conversation was this:
Rosenfeld, who has been blogging about his application experience for Teacher Magazine, said it's still unclear whether the process will make him a stronger teacher in the long run. He added that the application takes so much time that it on occasion diverts his attention from the classroom.

I also added, although she did not, that while it was a tough slog and I felt very much in the middle of it, I was certain that in the future I would look back on the experience and be glad that I did it. I wish I could say the same for the interview with her.

To top it off, during the interview itself I was so engaged that I missed my exit on 395 and, I’m embarrassed to admit as a native driver, got turned around in the rush hour traffic and never even made it to the support class. I told myself at the time that it was okay; after my productive writing session and then an animated discussion, I’d NBPTS’ed enough for one day.

I had covered so much ground with Ms. Chandler while I was busy getting lost, in fact, that I actually asked her at the end of our talk if she’d be willing to send me a copy of her notes, thinking that they might help me write my own National Board piece in the future. She seemed hesitant, and I thought that perhaps I’d overstepped some journalistic line so didn’t press it. Instead, at the top of my block before driving into the maelstrom of dinner time with the boys, I took 10 minutes to jot down notes of my own about our conversation.

So Ms. Chandler, if you feel I’ve misrepresented you, get in touch. I’d be happy to post both my notes and your notes on this blog for all the world to see. Until then, I have only one thing to say to you: No comment.

Posted by Emmet Rosenfeld at 4:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

On to Entry Three, “Instructional Analysis: Small Groups.” This time, my faithful Hum partner Jen filmed me as I checked in with kids working in small groups of 3-6 on a creative project called “3 D Posters.”

The purpose of the assignment was to compare structure and other aspects of text and context of “Western” and non-Western works of literature in order to draw conclusions about the authors’ worldviews and aesthetic principles. In support of our year-long canoe project, the works being compared are James Michener’s Chesapeake and Native American author N. Scott Momoday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain.

This footage shows kids creating visual representations of the structure of each work: literally, 3 D models of the books. They are required to include sample passages, with analysis of 4 aspects of text and 3 aspects of context (based on a previous lesson in which we discussed these elements).

There were a dozen groups in the combined class of 48 students, and a general hubbub in the room as kids sprawled out with art supplies, notes and open books to work on their projects. I managed to get usable audio by carrying around a table-top mic taped to a stool and setting it down in each cluster I visited. The video quality is good, despite overhead fluorescents. I shut all the Venetian blinds and had Jen shoot with her back to the wall of windows.

After viewing the tape a couple of times, I’ve targeted fifteen minutes that show me interacting with several groups at various stages in the project. Before writing up the entry, I transcribed the fifteen minutes, second by second. Here are the abbreviated notes for a visit with one group.

8:46.08 “Hey guys. We brought you shrubbery.” Elysha has returned with supplies from the courtyard for her group’s project. Adam, Peter, and Alex are constructing something volcanoish from construction paper and cardboard.

.17 Adam explains the concept: the cone shape represents the Kiowa’s sacred site, Rainy Mountain, and the tube is a tree trunk to show the branching plot of Chesapeake.

.42 Alex explains the passages they’ll take from each book: the legend of the bear and one of Steed’s voyages.

8:47.04 I respond and ask a clarifying question: “I can see the structure of Rainy Mountain, but how are you showing the structure of Chesapeake?”

.13 “You may want to go through these discussion questions...” I suggest, waving the handout I’d provided that helps kids sharpen their ideas about the worldview and aesthetic of each author.

.40 Ashley appears at my shoulder with a question from her group. I am listening intently to the current group, and display classroom management by asking her to hold the thought.

8:48.20 Transition. As I move to the next group, Elysha and Peter are intently discussing one of the study questions, she with a pen in her hand. Adam asks, “Do you have any brown paper?”

.32 Maps are visible on the wall, evidence that this is a team-taught Humanities class (history and English). Pan shows several groups busy at work: Zack and Ryan are making a model with lego; Ranya can be seen sculpting waves out of modeling clay.

8.49.03 I pull up a chair to join the next group, intentionally sitting between two quiet girls who never raise their hands during whole class discussion. I turn to one and ask, “Tell me your overall concept...”

Posted by Emmet Rosenfeld at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Tuesday is the last meeting of a graduate course I teach for GMU called “The Teaching of Writing.” This farewell class will take place at a local pub and feature a “readaround” where we’ll share and respond to pieces developed in workshop that are collated in a class anthology, titled (by class vote) Tuesdays with Emmet.

The course, for teachers of grades K-high school and any subject, was based on an established writing project model. For 15 weeks, 23 colleagues and I met weekly to hear presentations from other teachers about some aspect of the teaching of writing; to read and respond in discussion and in writing to professional books and articles; and, to participate in writing groups that allowed us to develop personal work and gain experience to help use these groups in our own classrooms.

I spent this weekend responding to portfolios where participants presented evidence of and reflected on their growth as teachers, learners, and writers. Sifting through the portfolios took a good bit of time, but I found myself lingering over each rather than rushing through them, realizing that this might be the last time I heard this particular teacher’s voice.

It came to me that the 23 dialogues I had shared with these colleagues over the course of many weeks, and the larger conversation we engaged in during class, had been as rewarding to me as it had to them. The opportunity to teach this course reminded me that the most valuable form of professional development involves engaged dialogue among practicing professionals in a supportive environment. Below are excerpts from a few of the end of course letters and my responses. They are reward in and of themselves, but I also intend to use them as evidence for Entry Four.

H: When I began this course, I taught writing from grammar and literature books. My students dreaded writing and I dreaded teaching them writing. I had them write from prompts that they found boring... None of this writing ever excited or shook me to the core. Throughout this course I tried various strategies from the teacher consultants who presented to our class. Some of these strategies flopped and some really connected with my students. At no time was I bored. I was eager to see if the strategies would work, I was nervous about what to do when they flopped, and sometimes I was surprised by how much I really got from my students.

Hi H: Your first couple paragraphs make you eligible for writing project poster teacher of the year (this does not involve milk cartons). It’s been so rewarding to see how open you were to the ideas of the course, and how energetically you applied them. I also like how you’re not afraid to admit it when something flops or isn’t right for your teaching. Also, thanks for being my classroom helper. Having you there to help with signs or just find a xerox room relieved a lot of stress for me... [you] can chat with my pets anytime (don’t believe everything the cat says, she’s a little vindictive).

P: The course has certainly turned me into a writer. Do I suddenly have the urge to write a novel, an editorial, a philosophical treatise? Maybe. But essentially I’ve experienced some of the aesthetic power of writing and am encouraged to continue... Although I’ve obviously used writing as a process for learning in my academic and teaching career, the components of the course-- the presentations, the books about writing, and the writing groups-- have clarified and reinforced the necessity of writing and that I do not do enough of it. As a teacher, I’ve come to view writing as a more vital tool for engaging students in finding their own voice...

Hi P: What an exciting discovery of voice, both literal and figurative. I really admire the gentle yet erudite way you have in expressing your responses, and I’m glad that the course provided fodder for this mill. Vic’s ideas also made a strong impression on me when I first heard them, and still do with every new presentation. Your affinity for twilight imagery speaks to your appreciation for ambiguity, the mark of a good literature teacher. But the biggest difference I see between PP #1 and #2 is exactly what you spoke of-- the literature teacher’s voice has given way to one that is warmer, less at a distance. I think that will carry over into your teaching with gratifying rewards.

F: I used to be a bit of a hypocrite. I enjoyed teaching how to write but I never believed that I could write... Over the first few writing group sessions, my attitude changed greatly... The women in my writing group have given me confidence as a writer... My readings combined with our class discussions and speakers helped me become more knowledgeable about the writing process. Often, educators plan their lessons and work very hard to help guide their students through the writing process but have no idea why one activity or lesson promotes student learning. I strive always to have sound evidence or research to back up my lessons. This class and my readings have not only introduced me to wonderful teaching ideas, I can now support my writing lessons with evidence that they incorporate successful techniques that promote student learning.

Hi F: Your growth in the writing group is apparent in this work, and I’m so glad you discovered your voice through the powerful experience of sharing work with “the ladies.” I also think you’ve hit the nail on the head when you say that the purpose of this class goes beyond getting great methods to getting meaningful theory to support those methods. You started the class as a teacher full of both optimism and a repertoire of Calkins-influenced techniques. I think you’re leaving as an even stronger teacher, because you now not only have a firmer foundation of critical theory from which you can draw to both enhance and question those techniques, you also have a reservoir of experience as a writer outside your graduate school “comfort zone” that allows you to appreciate the struggles and challenges your own students face as emerging writers.

Posted by Emmet Rosenfeld at 7:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When we last left our hero he was dangling over a vat of boiling eggnog fiddling with a utility belt that had suddenly grown a couple of notches too small over the holidays. We now return to our regularly scheduled program, in which said hero makes his escape by completing the task of listing three factoids about the ninth grade class he videotaped in the media center that relate to the remaining five standards pertinent to Entry Two.

The taped lesson that is the basis for my “whole group instruction” entry has me giving kids a mini-lesson on database research in the media center before they begin searching for scientific articles. See “Not My Favorite Things” for the first five standards. (As before, this material is from EA/ELA handbook. Also as before, fair warning: the writing below has more I’s than an old potato. A lay person may want to keep channel surfing during this entry.)

VI. Instructional Resources
1. I integrated media and technology opportunities for students to meet learning goals in the classroom by using a white board and the media center computer lab, and the school’s reservoir of database subscriptions.
2. I taught students basic information about how to use text appropriately by teaching how to use APA format for citations in science research, and also incorporating Noodlebib, an online bibliography maker.
3. I shared resources and strategies with colleagues: with the biology teacher, I crafted a list of search terms and questions to help students begin their “idea papers;” and with the media center specialist, I created a “search ladder” to help students record the number and quantity of hits as they searched various databases. Also, the media center specialist filmed me as I presented the lesson and joined in to offer deeper information, for example explaining how to use “nesting” (parentheses) as a way to limit search results.

VII. Instructional Decision Making
1. I led my ninth grade team in connecting with local wildlife management officials to create an authentic year-long task tied to a real-world situation-- in our case, monitoring water quality at a local wetland-- in order to engage students in a project that was meaningful to them and thereby stimulate engagement.
2. I took students on two field trips this fall, and will take them on two more in the spring, to the Occoquan Bay Wildlife Reserve, a one-mile square preserved wetland where they will perform a series of tests and collect both objective and subjective data over the course of the year, first to learn the techniques of scientific observation and later in service of original student-designed science experiments.
2. I encouraged self-directed learning in this assignment by having all students select and research a topic of their own choice related to water quality for their first “idea paper.” These and a second round of idea papers will be shared with peers and lead to longer individual research projects which will in turn lead to group experiments based in our course area. The group projects will culminate in an end-of-year Symposium at which groups present their findings to a community of peers, teachers, parents and community members.

X. Speaking, Listening, and Viewing
1. I asked open-ended questions and placed value on eliciting student opinions when I had a student act as “volunteer researcher” in the database mini-lesson, and asked her to make choices to narrow the search results. When we had narrowed our choices from over 7000 to a dozen, for example, I asked her to scan the titles of abstracts to select one that would probably be an appropriate source for our research topic.
2. I elicited participation from quieter students and worked to maintain a balance among speakers by interacting with the group game show host-style while the student researcher sat at the actual keyboard whose screen we could see on the whiteboard and made her search. I called on Lauren, who is often quiet in class, for a suggestion about how to limit the number of hits by selecting only peer-reviewed journals.
3. I modeled effective listening skills and added new vocabulary by receiving, responding to and rephrasing Jae’s suggestion to use two search terms joined by AND instead of just one, reminding the class that this is called a “Boolean operator.”

XII. Integrated Instruction
1. I organized instruction for this year-long unit with an inquiry-based approach based on real-world concerns. Students connect broadly to environmental issues and more specifically with our selected wetlands area after repeated visits and observations. I will capitalize on their passion by helping students prepare, towards the end of the year, a persuasive multimedia presentation to highlight the findings of their experiments using graphs, charts, and other information.
2. I work in partnership regularly as a lead teacher within a ninth grade program called “IBET” (Integrating Biology, English and Technology). Along with two content teachers and a counselor, I meet weekly to discuss curriculum and concerns about individual students, so that together we may triumphantly provide multiple paths to learning.
3. I use available forms of technology to support curricular goals. In this case, we used the media center classroom/ computer lab, and the electronic holdings.

XIV. Self-Reflection
1. I cope with tough challenges that do not lend themselves to simple solutions. I am the leader of an IBET team this year that consists of 6 other educators, 4 of whom are new to the building and 2 new to the profession. I have worked hard to guide my team by sharing lessons, maintaining contact with frequent meetings and emails, and serving as a mentor in both formal and informal ways.
2. I can talk persuasively about why I make the teaching decisions that I do. As an adjunct professor for George Mason University, I have had the opportunity to teach other teachers in a course called “The Teaching of Writing,” which has required me to articulate my pedagogical perspective and open myself to the ideas of colleagues.
3. On this exhilarating, lengthy journey to becoming an expert, I remain ever vigilant for teachable moments, think quickly on my feet, and embrace unpredictable opportunities like the true artist of my profession I aspire to be. Hence this blog.

Posted by Emmet Rosenfeld at 1:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)