Spite Homework

It is Wednesday morning in my first hour English class. Students were assigned "All Summer in a Day" by Ray Bradbury to read last night, so we could discuss craft elements today. I assign a quick "Somebody Wanted But So" summary to check comprehension (and, to be honest, to make sure they read), and was astounded to see 2/3 of my class start reading the story instead of writing summaries. Not just the three usual suspects, but several others as well. Let's be clear: they were not reviewing to find a minute detail. They simply had not read a short, relatively accessible text.

In my reflective teacher mind, I could go to the place where I remembered that they had not had enough time in class on Tuesday to be hooked into the story. Later that day, I would learn that they had two tests Wednesday, and many students were overwhelmed.

But in that moment, I am angry.

I give a soapbox speech. In my mind, it's so good. It's worthy of a Lifetime movie. But I'm sure it is more a rambling, annoying, rant they all tune out about halfway through. The gist of it is that I am not going to waste 1/3 of the students' time for the 2/3 of students who haven't bothered to do the work. It most certainly includes a line about how hard I work to provide quality instruction for them and how none of it will work if they can't be bothered to read four pages.

After the "character lecture," I give a short academic lecture on literary craft terms I want them to look for in the story and assign them a written post on Schoology for which they have very little scaffolding, sneaking in some more guilt-inducing language about how those that have actually done the reading would have a much smaller amount of homework to complete. They have about 7 minutes to work before the class period is over, certainly not enough time for me to answer questions for those who might be confused.

As the day goes on, I feel sort of terrible about assigning spite homework. It was a punitive move rather than an pedagogical one. As I learn about their tests, I feel worse. I imagine the worst-case scenario that none of my students will complete the assignment and it would just create more follow-through problems for me later. I may even (gasp!) have to admit that I was wrong.

But lo and behold, this morning before 1st hour, every single one of my 19 students has their work--difficult, unscaffolded--complete for class. (Note: I do not Google any of their answers to check their ideas for plagiarism; some good feelings just deserve to be felt.) The work is not perfect, but it is complete. It gives us a starting point to have an excellent discussion. We use the clumsy sentences as a starting point to talk about deeper ideas, and students look at peers' clumsy sentences and know they are not alone. We learn together.

My egotistical takeaway: I've still got it. My speech mattered! Most students care when teachers they know care are disappointed in them.

My non-egotistical takeaway: I am thinking about expectations. I know this was a perfect guilt-induced storm, and I will not abuse the power that my words apparently had on this particular day. But I so often don't send this type of work home because I fear that students will struggle. I want to make sure I am there to support them in this type of analytical thinking when they are doing it early in the instructional process. However, the fear of another Lifetime lecture coupled with a sort-of-achievable task made them all try. They all brought something to the table, no matter how imperfect or tentative. And this is exactly what I want them to do every single day. I don't know where the tipping point is in terms of asking kids to reach beyond what they think they can, but I do know that it might be a little further of a stretch than I usually ask them to do.

So, the questions are these: how do we work to build classroom communities where this type of stretch work is valued every day? How do we build confidence in students so they know their crazy stabs at ideas probably contain kernels of greatness? How do we give enough class time to do some of the work together and assign quality thinking work so the ideas of our discipline seep into the other corners of their lives?

ICTE SPEAK Session: Radical Routines

For years, I’ve been interested in the big picture of teacher mental health and what it takes to remain passionate throughout a career. This session is not about maintaining passion; this session is about maintaining sanity so you have space in your brain for passion.

There’s a Nancie Atwell story in In the Middle about Don Graves complimenting her organization. As the story goes, organization is not the notable quality she would have selected (and of course, she has so many more) because it seems so darn boring. But for many of us, it’s impossible to do the hard work if our space is a mess, or if we can’t remember if we sent the copies out, or if the new week arrives and we forgot to plan for it.

Several years ago, I started using FLYLady’s routines to keep my house in check, and it more or less works. It can be a little cheesy, but it's a lot helpful. Things are still a disaster at certain times of the week or day, but I overall feel pretty ready for company most of the time. FLYLady’s systems are all about automating your life routines so you don’t have to think about much. FLYLady’s systems are also all about baby steps and starting slow, which isn’t really conducive to a 10 minute session. So, take what you can, add one new routine a week, and see if it helps you keep your head above water. I know that it helps me.

First of all, FLYLady advocates for an important baby step of “shining your sink” each day. In the home, it’s your kitchen sink, a tangible reminder that you’ve at least got something under control. My “sink” at school is my teacher desk. Every day, I make sure it’s mostly clean and organized and a space I can actually use to do work. Once you have this under control, you can begin to work in other routines that will help you get through the day.

FLYLady’s system involves different routines at different parts of the day and also different tasks assigned to different days of the week. I’ve done the same. See my editable task list here.

On the right hand side of my task list, you can see my different downtimes in the day: before school, my study hall, and my prep period (which runs into after school time for me—it may not for you, so you may want to add an additional area for “after school”). These are the tasks I start with at each of my non-student time during the day, and if I have additional time left-over, I begin on my task list for that day of the week (found on the left hand side of the page). Now, let me be clear—not everything happens perfectly every single day, but I do generally adhere to these rules, and I don’t leave the building until I’ve either completed everything on my list or moved it to the following day’s task list.

Since I’ve implemented this system of routines, I find my room and space to be clearer and my daily work time to be more efficient. First of all, I don’t feel like I have to do EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. I have the week scheduled so that Mondays and Tuesdays are heavy on planning and the end of the week is a little heavier on grading and catch-up. Of course I can change the week to fit my students’ needs that week, but this gives me a base document to modify so nothing gets lost in the shuffle.

If I were just starting out, I’d start with “shining your sink.” For most of us, I think that would be our teacher’s desk. If you don’t have a teacher’s desk, pick a different “surface” in your room that you’d like to look like it’s under control.

Once you’ve mastered that surface consistently, work on your daily routines. How do you need to start your day so that you feel centered? Add these items to your after school routine. Where do things organizationally fall apart during your day, and at what point in the day could you stop to regroup?

Once your daily routines are helping you function, then you can add in your weekly routines to help the week flow more smoothly. When designing your weekly routines, think both about when things need to get done AND you’re in the best position mentally to do them. I think this is a little like litter-training a rabbit. While rabbits will learn to use a litter box, the easiest way to do it is to observe where the rabbit tends to do his/her business, and place the litter box in that area. Make sure you’re not putting your litter box all the way across the cage. For example, I found that I originally had WAY too much on my Friday afternoon task list. I was just too tired to get through as much as I thought I could. Experiment. See what works.

Remember, FLYLady advocates for baby steps. If you feel guilty or bad about yourself at any time, you’re probably trying to add too much. Go back to “shining your sink,” remind yourself it’s a process, and try again with a set of routines the following week. This is not about perfection. It’s about automating some of your life so that you have thinking space to do the work that matters most: designing quality instruction for kids.

See my customizable weekly task list here. Make a copy and edit away to start working on your routines!