Who is Mr. Moses?

This guy has me completely confused. By day he’s a mild-mannered School 2.0 reporter, writing posts with titles like District Technology Plan, stuff I’d tag “readlater” in del.icio.us and then forget about.

But at night he goes to war, swinging a heavy bat at scary-as-hell topics like the one TMAO intro-ed a few weeks back (paraphrased) “how do we train new urban educators?

His response, reposted in its superheroic entirety:

Right now, this very second, realize that there’s nothing going on in your teacher prep classes that is going to help you in any way shape or form once you get into a building, unless you change the paradigm. Here’s how:

Immediately start busting heads with your professors and the other pre-service teachers in your classes. Call them on their shit and be prepared to be called on yours. If you begin steeling yourself now you’ll be ready once you get into a school building and have to do the same thing with other teachers and administrators.

Next, take note of everything these classes area telling you to do and plan on doing the exact opposite. This will also help you once you get into a building. Look at what other teachers are doing, and do whatever the polar opposite is.

Make some commitments right now.

  1. You will not use the grade book as a weapon against your students. In fact you may want to commit to not using your grade book at all. You may need to keep one to fool the administration, but under no circumstances should it reflect what you report to the office at the end of a grading period.
  2. Commit, right now, to not failing a single student. No matter what. If you do this it will completely change how you work with young people.
  3. Never forget that you are there to help kids. Nothing else matters. Not even a little.

Good luck. Fight hard. Teach with a chip on your shoulder.

Add his rap- and indie-heavy last.fm profile to this blurry picture and I’m even farther from figuring this “Mr. Moses” character out. All I know for sure is I’d buy him a beer.

Mr. Moses, whoever you are, I raise a glass to you:

Washington Wants Good Teachers

I guess Washington just shot to the top of the States To Move To When California Splits Along The San Andreas And Merges With The Pacific list:

Many people will argue the problem with teacher salaries is that they are too low to attract and keep good teachers. That may be true. But the types of pay reforms outlined by Washington Learns recognize a deeper problem: the failure of the current system to make distinctions among teachers who have specialized skills, who accept difficult job assignments, or who are more effective in the classroom.

This also in: the upward trend of teacher SAT scores and general aptitude will both reach a carrying capacity if we can’t offer them better incentives.

[both via Jacobs]

Perils of Podcasting

From Scott’s podcasting for principals tutorial:

What can I do with this? Well, I donโ€™t know about you but I can talk faster than I can type. So maybe Iโ€™d like to send a message to my classโ€ฆ Ta da! Iโ€™ve just freed up 20 minutes of my day. What else might we do with this?

I’m all for stocking one’s toolbox but the upbeat monologue here makes me wary. You can talk faster than you can type, which, great, but I hope you temper your blithe optimism with some concern for your listeners’ experience at some point.

Not only do most of your listeners read faster than you talk but if you don’t edit for clarity โ€“ eliding those ums, ahs, scripting beforehand, and clipping out those accidental digressions โ€“ they carry the burden of your communication.

Which seems kind of typical of my relationship with podcasts: lots of waiting and finger-thrumming while you circle a point you could’ve made in half my time had you typed up a coupla draftsWhich, come to think of it, is the single biggest problem with pod- and vodcasting: the drafting process is too complicated for your casual enthusiast..

The suspicion just creeps over me every coupla months or so that the constant introduction of new tools has left your average, well-meant educator a permanent amateur, able to save some time for herself using these tools, unable to do anything better. And since we’re all in that same state, there exists very little peer pressure towards excellence, excepting occasional posts from certain School 2.0 curmudgeons.

Tell me I’m wrong.

Related:

They’re gone.

Kind of a bummer that the children of migratory workers must endure a migratory education. My Spanish was never lousier than when I tried to wish them well and say goodbye.

Nos vemos, chicas. Mucho gusto conocerles.

Liveblogging the White Elephant Exchange

  • 3:45PM PST: A student body leader passes 38 numbers out of a hat. I’m #17.
  • 3:58PM PST: 16 people have selected (and occasionally stolen per the rules of the game) cookie cutters, Christmas ornaments, barbecue sauce, lamps, etc, etc.
  • 3:59PM PST: I go for the smallest gift. Organic soap called “Kiss My Face.” Regift potential: high.
  • 4:10PM PST: Will Winkler, whom students, faculty, and parents refer to by the single letter “X,” steals my soap.
  • 4:12PM PST: Given the choice between some awesome known commodity and the unknown, I’ll almost always select the unknown. It’s a sickness. Stepping past a leopard-print umbrella and a Johnny Cash collection, I open up Richard Carlson’s best-seller Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff โ€“ and It’s All Small Stuff and finally understand regret. Regift potential: nil.
  • 4:30PM PST: There are five gifts left on the table. One of them is mine.
  • 4:35PM PST: There are three gifts left on the table. One of them is mine. I begin to worry.
  • 4:37PM PST: There are no more takers. Everyone has a gift. Two are left and one is mine.

    I blame my colossal TA Katy’s homemade wrapping paper which featured angler fish a little too prominently for the faculty’s tastes, I guess.

    Sucks for my colleagues. There was a Utilikey underneath those angler fish. Yeah. That’s right. A little combo pocket knife / screwdriver / bottle opener that collapsed into a key and which could’ve been yours had you only looked past the scary wrapping paper.

    There’s a metaphor there, I’m positive, but no way I’m gonna spend my time sniffing it out. ‘Cause that’s small stuff. And I don’t sweat that anymore.