Jennifer Nelson's blog

Homework: Not so helpful, after all?

I was very excited to find this post. I’ve been meaning to read Khon’s “Homework Myth” ever since my 6^th grade teacher, with whom I am still in touch and who now teaches high school math, mentioned it to me. She agrees with his thesis.

I, on the other hand, can’t help but believe that homework is helpful for the college-bound. Without the gradual build-up of homework, how will a student know how to handle the outside-of-class investment that is expected at that level? I guess the question that remains is, is homework worth it for the non-college-bound?

Using the rationale that kids hate homework and put it off as long as possible is not reason to believe that homework is unbeneficial. Many things that are popularly hated, such as exercise and financial prudence, are good for us. As for the argument that homework does not develop a work ethic, I disagree. With time to do whatever they please, my students will not be kindling their innate curiosity by reading a book of choice. They will be watching TV. For the argument that rigorous amounts of homework in middle school is not correlated with higher high school achievement, I suppose the counter argument would be, has any research shown that not doing or not assigning homework raises achievement? I think there is some spurious intervening variable that is making the research appear to suggest that homework is impotent as yielding great educational gains, when really home/neighborhood environment or family dysfunction/stress may be accountable for educational outcomes, not the assigning of homework.

Regarding Christine Hendricks’ letter to parents explaining her school’s experiment with no homework for a semester, I think this innovation would work well so long as there is reason to believe that families will support their children with the five responsibilities she bulleted in the letter. It would be more accurate for Hendricks to say, “we are implementing a ‘new’ homework this year: intense parental involvement.” This is not a truly no-homework policy! There are still things for the kids to do at home; parents are the new facilitators. In areas without this assurance of reinforcement from home, schools ought to lengthen the school day, so that all of that gets done in caretakers’ hands before reporting home at 6 p.m.

One thing I’ve thought about is whether homework is worth assigning when half of students do not do it, and it becomes a nuisance to teachers who cannot let more than half their kids fail due to excessive zeros produced by MIA homework. I’ve decided that it is worth assigning, as it will pull the borderline students who will do their homework up to proficient level on the state test. In other words, assigning homework is likely to help improve those kids who will do it; and if the teacher makes homework worth only a marginal amount, then for those who don’t do it, no excessive harm is done. So long as the teacher completes the independent practice during class time, and homework serves only as a reinforcement of skills learned, then homework is appropriate and will only strengthen the stronger students. They are not psychologically bothered by homework; in essence, homework is a “NR” for them (science shorthand for No Reaction). 

For honors kids, however, those who are definitely college-bound, the teacher’s assigning of and close monitoring of/feedback on homework is very important. These students especially cannot afford anything that will set them behind other students at their level who attend competitive private schools or suburban schools where the majority of the student body is vigilant about homework. I do not foresee these types of schools of privilege backing down off homework any time soon, and so for cricital needs schools to do so would be a mistake, giving the others yet another upper-hand in being prepared to succeed in college.

I think the real concern here is what is assigned for homework. If it is busy work, or over students' heads, or not sufficiently explained, or students do not have resources (parental, material, technological, or time) to do it, then yes, homework is terribly ineffective and even harmful. If a teacher gives homework as a good doctor proscribes the right antidote, however, homework remains a worthwhile component of schooling.

In response to Rubinstein on High Expectations

This year, I have three preps of regular English II, and three preps of APAC/accelerated (honors) students. The latter are my DREAM classes. I get to teach stuff I really like; it’s like an escape from the constraint implicit in teaching SATP (state tested subject area). I have discovered that I often kick into overdrive with my honors classes, assigning simply too much homework. What I’ve come to realize, after discussing low midterm progress report grades with the APAC program director, is that there are definite patterns in assignments students do really well on and have a high turn-in rates, and those that sink their grades with a deluge of zeros. The assignments I hype up over time, and that students expect to be worth a lot, they hit the nail on the head. On assignments that I do not explain but simply pack in, students do not do them, do them half-way, or I neglect to even go over them, period. So my new goal is, don’t overdo the homework. Quality, not quantity. I am currently, as Rubinstein says, “Try[ing] to learn what sorts of things are realistic.”

This over-doing it is what Rubinstein is talking about with “high expectations” that backfire. Definitely, I see the potential of this mistake to make students lose confidence in themselves. An attitude of “even if I try, I am not likely to pass anyway” is apt to set in. I want to gain my students’ trust that I am competent to weed out what is excess and busy work and instead to strengthen them with the most significant and essential part of the material. I want them to see work for my class as meaningful and worthwhile – and a student is not going to feel this way about his work if that work carries expectations he cannot meet. My class becomes a stresser instead of a potent learning environment. 

I think part of the challenge for over-eager teachers is in pausing, moving slowly through the incipient stages of basic mastery, and in having faith enough that that point in the year when “eventually you will get to [teach, use and expect] the harder stuff” WILL come. Teachers must pace themselves, because they have dependents. Without the right rhythm and pace, development is stunted.

My Community Assessment

I really enjoyed the product of this assignment -- even if the process wasn't enjoyable. Isn't that the way research is? View a pdf of the document here.

Hardest thing about the second year

This topic gives me pause; I'm really not sure. I will give a list of thingS that are different, then hopefully be led to a conclusion as to what's hardest.

For one, I am less wrapped-up in parent contact than I was last year. Literally, last year I was plagued with needing to call parents. The task haunted my mind; I couldn't even sit in a pew on Sunday morning without being pelted with a list of students' names who called for action on my part. Parent contact made me restless and irritable till I did it. This year, I address it straightaway, during planning instead of at home, and have made far less calls than last year. HOWEVER, I am apprehensive because this lessened anxiety has also meant that I have made less (a-hem...that is, zero) positive parent calls. I foresee this reduction in parent contact as potentially very bad, since I am now in a state-tested subject area. I will need to be super-vigilant to call parents on the cusp of midterms to report their child's failing status. Euch, even writing about parent contact gets me down. This is a part of the job that I still do not like, but I fully recognize its essentialness.

Other things that are different: now I am no longer a newbie. I have new responsibilities, to mentor the new first-years at my school. I have resources I can share, tips to pass along that could help them as they helped me. I find myself still so wrapped up in my own classes and so starved of time, though, that I feel I am failing in providing all the help I could to the first-years. Sorry, first years! I am trying... Yes, I think this is probably toughest about being a second-year teacher - you take on a new supportive role for other co-workers; you no longer only receive help, but are needed to provide it, too. I am now no longer a consumer of help and a beneficiary only; I am equipped to share, benefit, improve, ameliorate and edify those around me. May I not buckle and prove to be a coward in this new facet of my job!

Well, my 11th grade English teacher was right after all. She always said, "good writing is that which leads you to new discoveries and perspectives and realizations AS you are in the process of writing it." And so it was just now- I became cognizant of a part of my vocation that deserves more conscious attention from me. It is good to be a conscious worker! (Marx might smile upon that conclusion...my "species-being" and my connectedness to my labor is alive and well here in Jackson.)

Staying organized

This is one of my favorite subjects. I like organizing stuff: rooms, clutter, ideas, records; by size, color, theme, convenience, time, etc. And be encouraged: getting your papers and classroom in order is an easy way to gain a sense of control over a very arduous job. There are so many variables and strains that you cannot control - your students' disinterest, chronic absence or apathy, for instance (as these can be mediated and addressed, but not ultimately done for them) - but take heart! You CAN manage the little stuff, and it pays off.

Have a table near your desk for all papers. Don't use your desk for paper storage; keep it as clear as possible. On that table, keep stacks of your handouts for the previous few days and the current day. On that desk, also have a bin with hanging folders in which to put graded student work ready for return. When collecting student work, paperclip them by period, make a neat stack, and put them in your bag or (gasp!) on your desk in order to say to yourself, "grade these ASAP, record and return."

Another crucial desk to have is a small one by the entrance of your room. Keep a tardy sign-in, pen strapped down, an example binder (full of class notes) there. Also, keep missed worksheets there too, so students who wer absent can collect missed work on their way in. Either a bin with hanging folders on the desk, or a wall-mounted, hanging series of pocket-folders will do for this purpose (you can make one of these by taping manila folders about 2" apart in a vertical 'ladder').

Let's see...I think it's already been universally imparted that a carry-along clipboard is a crucial organizing device for the new teacher, to track student names, discipline charts, and keep attendance. On my behavior chart, I use abbreviations such as "D" for detention (and I know I need to call parents at that point), "S" for sleeping, and a colored-in triangle in the box-corner to notate a tardy (a non-colored-in triangle means absent). See my classroom management ppt for further elaboration on this record-keeping code, which I adapted from Ms. Mossing and Ms. Hall. 

I also compile binders per quarter full of originals I had and lesson plans, so that by the end of each term, I have all my files that I used in a central place, even if they could use additional organization. I add these day by day, as I wrap up each sheet that was part of the unit. 

The key is: keep on filing things where they belong, as soon as you find them invading your free table space. Put things back where they belong, and be relentless in taking care of things before they pile up. Get all that minutia of teaching (all the non-teaching tasks we must do) off your plate and off your mind, even if that means staying after school 30 minutes on a Friday afternoon. Remember, organizing is your friend; it gives you some peace of mind! What a great reward!! I would compare organizing to exercise: you may dread it up-front, but you will not regret it once you make it a habit and see its fruits.

Gettin' Better This Semester

This semester, I am hoping for a number of improvements over last year.

First, I really want a more organized system for make-up work and missed work. I can already feel myself slipping down this slope and getting behind, especially with two preps this year. I do like the binder system I have, and I think I will designate one student per prep to be my "notetaker/binder upkeeper go-to person." S/he will be in charge of writing out an extra copy of notes and making sure that the example binder is immaculate on a daily basis. I will choose someone who is always done with notes before everyone else- one of those fast worker-bee types. 

Second, I want to keep up with my homework blog more. I plan to give out homework more regularly this year, so this will be a must. (So far, homework returns are about 60%! Amazing! Wonderful! I think that makes it worthwhile, b/c the kids who do do it will be that much more likely to tip up into a proficient or advanced category on their English II exam, when their independent practice is extended and polished and downloaded more permanently into their memory by doing work outside of class....plus, it will serve as college preparation for that demographic. So I have decided that homework is worthwhile.)

Third, I would like to initiate regular, mass parent contact via weekly/biweekly emails. This might prove to be a headache though...would it be better to keep parents somewhat out of the "know"? I might be asking for it (a time/brain-consuming deluge of emails to reply to) in establishing that contact. Already, with APAC my students are using email to clarify HW assignments....and while that's commendable and great and exactly what they SHOULD be doing, I can see how that might quickly become ex-hau-sting!!!! So then again, maybe I won't. But using more email with parents is the general goal. I love email over phone!

Fourth, I want to sharpen my raise-hand vs. suspended-raising-hand balance during class time. Is it bad to suspend the raise-hand rule for brainstorm-esque guided practice? Or should raising hands be protected? I notice I ask an awful lot of questions of my students over the course of the 90-minute period. I like that. While I like my newfound "free to talk out/OK, now raise your hands again" rule-switching that I am implementing a lot this year, I do wonder what affect it will have on students' informal assessment. Also, I don't want to jeopardize my absolute control over the students' talking. (Ha, not that I have that, but I like to feel like I have a good amount, anyway.)

First week: Year 1 vs. Year 2

The first week of school this year, as compared to last year, was much easier. I didn't have that knotted-a.m. stomach, I didn't feel too young to be a teacher, and I didn't have that wavering facial expression of "I'm tough--but please don't test me!" Rather, I was free and able to slam the classroom door fiercely to punctuate the tardy bell and command, "You should be on page 3 doing your warm-up, with your homework on your desk!" Best of all, the dread I felt last year was far weaker this year. Of course, part of me dreaded kissing the freedom and rest of summer goodbye; on the other hand, I had a newfound ease and sense of direction and orientation and know-how that I lacked last August, which equipped me to settle more comfortably into the rigamarole of teacherly duties.

I felt at home in my classroom, which was a great and welcome difference. Also, I cannot express the sheer joy of former students saying, "Hi, Ms. Nelson!" in the hallway. To be known in a place is one of life's sweetest privileges, I think. I have a new belonging here, and it's a thrill. Investing in a place brings about a multiplied blessing, it seems. It's an undeserved but much-welcomed upgrade to this job, the second year. I mean, I guess some of the newfound ease is "deserved" insofar as it has been "earned" through a year's worth of struggling and figuring-out. Ah! My second-year cronies from last year told the truth when they said, "it's all about the second year."  I feel like I am at the point I reached by February last year, now. I feel ready to roll, ready to grow, ready to work, ready to get to know new students. Also, knowing the stress that lies ahead, the nights of being drained and overloaded mentally, (strangely enough) relieves some of the stress.

I admit that at first I was apprehensive to receive new students because losing the former ones was a tearful parting. But already, I can foresee the attachment I will develop to them. Of all things, sitting with a student as he waited for his auntie to pick him up from my detention this past Friday brought that realization to the fore.

I anxiously await what new things I will learn this year as a teacher. This profession is so rich, so full of potential (probably because it entails just TOO MUCH! My coworker told me about an article that added up all the functions teachers play in a functioning society -- i.e., therapist, tutor, babysitter, etc. -- and a teacher's economic worth to society is astonishing!). 

Failure to Restore a Troublemaker

When I think of failure this year, one student’s name comes to mind immediately. I’ll give him the pseudonym of Ross. Ross was a popular boy. He made girls giggle and held leadership within his guy-group (not quite a gang, but some similar form of association). He had failed 10^th grade once already. He wasn’t slow. He would sporadically snap into “don’t-bother-me-I’m-doing-my-work” mode in class, but this resolve was too rare to get him close to passing. He demanded a lot of attention in-class, but probably because I entertained it. On a regular basis, I felt like the weaker party in our interactions. And my softness in disciplining him is what did him in in my class. With six or seven referrals, almost all of them punctuated with him leaving class in an outraged, profane, physically unrestrained huff, we had a bad history. Our relationship was on the rocks constantly, and any concord between us was strained and temporary. Whereas he was always on the cusp of explosion (and other teachers agreed), I was always on the verge of breakdown with him.

 

Why did I feel so powerless with Ross? First, I let him have his way. I attempted to shut-down his speaking out of turn and his under-the-breath profanities and his routine insubordination, but just as often averted conflict by not addressing these infractions. Second, I was ineffective in my communication with his parent. He had a single mother and an involved grandmother.  The mother always said, “I can’t get him to detention,” so I would compromise and be spineless with her. But Ross never did show up when I gave extensions on the detention. Oh, I felt so helpless and powerless! There was a period of time where his grandmother stepped in and was responsive to calls and detentions. But for some reason, that didn’t set Ross on a new track to redemption in my classroom. I also fizzled out, having to constantly be calling and arranging and apologizing for his behavior. As a young teacher, I didn’t realize that that stress isn’t on me. I have still not fully outgrown my need to stress out for my students’ willful misbehavior.

 

Finally, my powerlessness and failure with Ross sprang from the fact that I didn’t want to interact with him. It was too volatile and difficult. Disciplining is demanding; it’s easier in the present moment to just fill out a referral form and send the source of conflict out and away. His was the name I looked for right away on the suspension and absentee lists, and sighed with relief when it appeared. The salve to our mutual woes (he wasn’t successful in my class, and I was effectively making him the scapegoat to all my classroom management frustrations) was to mete out the punishment to him that would not enable him to reform. This was not restorative justice by any means. With each suspension he earned himself with me, he inched nearer and nearer to failure, hopelessness, and dropping out.

 

Ross confided in his biology teacher. She relayed to me information that her mother’s boyfriend was involved in a shooting at Ross’s house one week. She also told me his father was killed when he was young. At a parent-teacher-administrator conference in spring, his mother exhibited the inattention and carelessness that accounted for Ross’s own detachment from seeing himself succeed. As the assistant principal and I talked to her, she excused herself for a cell phone call. She was utterly absent, even in our presence. I can only assume she’s the same with Ross: there, but also terribly not there.

 

In some ways, Ross ended up paying for her non-cooperation (or low level of concern to cooperate) with me. The child was paying for the parent’s unconscious mistakes. And I did virtually nothing to siphon off that damage from Ross. Maybe with more time, I’ll be able to be a more effective mediator of discipline for students like Ross. To be neither spinelessly soft and shamelessly accommodating and anxiously apologetic, nor emotionless as I watch the troublemaking students’ performance and chances for success diminish to a squeak on account of my unwillingness to discipline him.

Two-fold Success: on the court, in the classroom

 

The most wonderful part of my first year of teaching began in mid-February, when I coached the co-ed tennis team. That is when my job came together. I became a teacher much more fully; my vocation and daily work became my identity on a much deeper level. I started to have an undeniable attachment to Jackson, and each day took on a pleasant, stable flow of work and rest. Coaching for two hours in the afternoons gave me the daily structure and sunshine that I needed. More than anything, though, it created a space for me to interact with students in a more friendly, personal way than the school day and the classroom allow.

 

Three of my players were my own students: one an academic star, one an enthusiastic girlie-girl, one an enigmatic, fair-weather, hot-tempered teacher’s pet. The other nine were upperclassmen, each with their own pizzazz. The one who played upon my gullibility regularly was also a young woman whose sensibility and responsibility impressed me. The one who told other players, “Don’t talk to my coach like that! Don’t talk that trash!” brought a contagion of cheerfulness to every practice. The persistent whiner of the team was also the one who showed the most commitment of any player. The loud-mouthed girl who wouldn’t part with her mp3 player and frustrated me with low-cut shirts also was clear-headed about prioritizing school. The placid introvert with a misdemeanor was also the one who always helped lug balls and water without my asking. Each player had an endearing idiosyncrasy and a puzzling dynamism that made me love him or her all the more.

 

How did coaching translate into my being a teacher, and success in the classroom? It gave me a different kind of confidence with students. I brought the knowledge that I can relate to students in a way that conveys I care, and it showed me how receptive they can be and want to be to a teacher who cares. It also showed me that I am capable of being autonomous. I was able to coordinate game details with other coaches on my own (also teachers themselves), and to manage bringing my team to two all-day tournaments.

 

Through coaching, I began to see that my youth and inexperience were no real hindrance to cultivating that part of a teacher’s role that cares for her students like perhaps a parent does. By that I mean, getting to know particular students and their good and bad sides on their good and bad days provided an opportunity for me to discover how care for a person can indeed be a constant. Whereas teaching was often an up-and-down experience – there were great highs and also great lows – coaching showed me that teaching can be a sustainable profession through all that turbulence because care for students is (can be) a constant. This is not an ideal; it is possible.

 

In fact, coaching tennis also showed me that my youngness was not necessarily a disadvantage. Despite common comments from community members – such as from a woman who I waited with while my oil was changed: “You’re a teacher? You’re too young!” – my player S.K. reveled in the fact that I was young. She’s also a student of mine.

 

At the district tournament, S.K. and I leaned against the fence to watch the mixed doubles match. As we rooted for them, my obnoxious, over-excited tendencies started showing in my facial expressions and body language. S.K. delighted in this and responded with the same kind of expressions – excitement for the match we were winning. “When are you going to invite me to your house?” she cajoled, half-jokingly. After that day, her demeanor in my class became increasingly conscientious and her desire to improve at tennis showed in practice. In both domains, her efforts doubled. She went from being a mediocre student with bare-bones effort to being student of the month in April. She earned it for her outstanding insight in class one day, that the way Japanese-Americans were residentially isolated and given sub-par housing allocations by the government was not too different from what happens today. I didn’t even pose that as a leading question…she saw the real-world connection to literature on her own.

 

As I reflect upon this success, a desire to become more involved in my students’ lives when that door is opened floods back to me like rushing waters. To see a student respond to teaching in such a way that multiplies her efforts and brings her closer to the full expression of her personality and ability: what an unsurpassable, indescribable, unexpected wonder! 

EPILOGUE

On another level, coaching tennis was a success because it got me involved in my school’s community. Adults who play at the public court where my students practiced and played have become some of my closest friends in Jackson. I love the fact that most of them are black; I feel like I am able to become more fully a part of this neighborhood that way. Blacks and whites need more regular interaction built into their daily lives; tennis has been a very natural way to regularize our interaction. For instance, through tennis, I befriended Tracy, a local teacher, whose niece’s baby shower I attended at her church one afternoon after we played tennis together. There, I met her whole family! To be welcomed into her life has been so exciting to me. Amidst tennis, Tracy and I share music and discuss Christianity; her friendship is one of the sweetest things to emerge yet from my time in Jackson. “Make your deposit here, then move on,” she advises me when I tell her I may want to stay in Jackson past these two years.

 

In combination with a book I am currently reading, Divided By Faith by Michael Emerson, and my experience teaching and coaching and participating in this tennis court and my church, I have become increasingly committed to living in a racially diverse area and not sticking to my own background in where I will live, where I will send my children to school, where I will worship, and where I will work. MTC has me seriously considering my future life choices. 

Practice and Improve

Three teacher skills I want to practice and improve this summer are: lecturing less and placing more responsibility on students to teach each other; the ability to keep sustained quiet working time at the end of a lesson when students have reached the “independent practice” portion of the lesson (after modeling and guided practice); and an increase and consistency in the use of wait time in asking students reading-comprehension (or otherwise) verbal questions. As end-of-year student evaluations of my class and my teaching revealed, according to my students, sometimes my class needs more zip and “enjoyment” (it’s all work and sometimes I can just feel that I talk too much), sometimes my classroom discipline isn’t enough to foster focused independent working time, and sometimes kids who don’t get it can slip by under the radar, until OOPH! Assessment day!

 

One thing I do well as a teacher is organize my students: in my own (behavioral and academic) records, in the physical environment of my classroom, in having all the materials they need to succeed prepared for them, in teaching them how to organize themselves, and in how I present information. This skill allows for a peace of mind that can withstand the daily uncertainties and energy demands of this job.