Teacher’s Desk: Attendance & Motivation

Colorado High School Charter, where I teach, has an amazing culture, says a former teacher who came back as our discipline coach (called dean or advisor in some schools). We have an at-risk designation at our charter school. Our students are parents or are returning drop-outs or don’t fit into regular district schools or have been expelled elsewhere or have a relationship with the juvenile justice system or are English language learners or special education students and almost all qualify for free and reduced lunch. Like many urban high schools, large and small, we had a growing problem last year with student attendance. By the end of the school year, most days, we had only about 25 students attending out of 165.

Yikes! The School Improvement Committee got busy! We came up with a plan that placed high expectations, personal responsibility, adult follow-through, and consequences in place. “Ditching” school becomes an irresistible elixir, and like the alcoholic trying to quit “cold turkey,” it is just as difficult for students not used to attending class regularly, or anyone really caring if he or she is missing, to come to every class every day.

This year we instituted a new attendance policy. When a student first enters our school, he or she is required to attend 80% of his or her classes. We all have a group of students we mentor and see daily in “homeroom.” The mentors check the student’s attendance regularly and keep each student informed of his attendance status and advocate for the student if there is a family illness or death that prevents the student from attending classes.

If after the student’s six week period (called a “block"), the student has more missing classes than allowed, the student is placed on attendance probation for another block. Most of the time, this second six-week period helps the student change a poor behavior and gain a positive replacement behavior: acceptable, regular attendance.

However, if a student still cannot commit to coming to class daily, we place them on our waiting list for two blocks and ask them to look for another school that may be a better fit, GED program, straighten out personal problems, or get a job the student can commit to. If the student returns, we require them to have read a book (250 pages or greater) and write a five page book report. After handing in the report, the student thoughtfully discusses what he learned while he was not at our school. Only if the student commits to graduating by attending every day, do we ask the student to join us again.

When our returning teacher noticed a change in the culture, what he saw was students committed to attending class, following the rules, and committed to earning a high school diploma.

Kathleen Kullback is a licensed special educator with an M.A. in educational leadership and a former candidate to the Colorado State Board of Education.

Manual shows up the bureaucrats

There is lots of demand these days for government to “create” results. But policies pandering to that are misguided. Whether it's jobs, health care, or even successful schools, the idea that people in government, no matter how talented, well-meaning, and well-funded can create sound, sustainable, scalable improvement in the lives of Americans has been proven wrong time and time again. Our government’s attempt to “create” financial security for seniors instead created a Social Security system racing towards bankruptcy. A sustained attempt to “create” widespread homeownership – a bipartisan folly to be sure – instead destroyed the world’s greatest financial institutions. And, public school systems – an attempt to “create” a well-educated public – is a national catastrophe and disgrace, depriving particularly our most disadvantaged children of the opportunities everyone deserves.

That government policies and programs cannot create these things on their own should not be discouraging. Americans can have them, but they must be created through the initiative, motivation, and ingenuity of Americans themselves. What government policy can and should do is remove barriers to success created by government itself – establishing an environment where progress, rather than frustration, is a natural result.

This morning I visited Manual High School in Denver. Manual is an inner-city high school serving a challenged community – more than 80% of the students qualify for free and reduced-price lunches. Nearly the entire student body is composed of minority children. In 2006, the school was closed for chronic failure – only 15% of students were proficient in reading. The school reopened in 2007 under an “autonomy” arrangement that provided new principal Rob Stein with relief from a handful of union and district rules including those regarding school schedules, hiring processes, and teacher compensation. Also, the school board reached an agreement with Stein to permit him to make key budgeting decisions at the school level rather than at the district level.

Stein describes himself as a “culture guy,” and he took advantage of the unusual autonomy to assemble a highly motivated staff and create a school culture of accountability and professionalism. At a twice-weekly school-wide meeting, the school-polo-shirt clad kids hear colleagues who’ve excelled or contributed in the past week receive ”shout-out” recognition (in one case accompanied by a $5 Burger King gift card); and at the same meeting noting that all seventy-one students who had been tardy during the week were required to attend detention that Friday evening. During “advisory,” small group classes meeting three times per week, the students follow a curriculum of social and life skills (e.g., constructive ways to deal with confrontation) – many of which kids from more privileged backgrounds may learn from their parents.

Today, Manual is tied for fourth-best-performing non-charter high school in the Denver Public Schools. It’s easy to imagine a well-intentioned “reformer” drawing the wrong conclusions from the Manual experience. “Let’s require shout-outs and logo polo shirts in all of the schools,” they might say, “and we can improve like Manual.” That would, of course, be missing the point. The terrific progress at Manual was not born of the particular tactics Stein employs, but of the autonomy that has permitted Stein and his dedicated team to implement their own innovative approach to serving the unique needs of children in Manual’s community.

By freeing the Manual team of district and union red tape, the autonomy agreements did not create success – that’s not possible to do from headquarters – but created the circumstances where success could flourish on its own. Freedom to succeed – that’s what American’s need in this challenging time.

Teacher's Desk: What Val Taught Me

I miss Val. Val was an ornery girl when I first met her. I mistook her for a he because of her gender-bending style. But she kept me on my toes, and she grew into a wonderful student by the time she graduated last year. Her attendance was nearly perfect, her skill levels rose and I had to move her out of remedial classes. She consistently made honor roll, reached her required benchmarks and credits to graduate, and became a school leader. Most important, Val taught me it was all right to tell my students I love them. At the end of the day I taught a math class that she attended. Students tend to be highly distractible the last period of the day and mathematics takes a lot of focus. My class was well-behaved one day as I modeled problem solving. Val passed me a note that said, “I love you, but this is so boring.” She spelled every word correctly, too! After that day, I used her spontaneous, “I love you,” to my students. With my classroom management style of “no nonsense,” this was a perfect companion.

After working at a large, impersonal Denver high school, being at our little school and hearing “I love you” float through the halls instead of profanities during passing period was true joy. When many of my at-risk students hear “I love you,” from a friend or teacher that may very well be the only “I love you,” they hear for a month or more. Val spread joy into many of our lives and truly added value to our school culture.

It was easy to add something to our school culture as the rules were already in place on the use of profanity in our building. If a student uses profanity, a profanity “report” is issued for the student to hand copy and present to the offended staff. If the report, which discusses the history of public utterances of profanity, is not returned to the offended staff, the student will not earn credit nor receive a passing grade for that six-week period. Unfortunately, many students do not even realize that taking the lord’s name in vain or using damn or hell is considered cussing. For many students, a worn out hand does the trick and students truly learn time and place.

I am including this profanity report with this article (see full text below) so that other educators can use it as well.

Kathleen Kullback is a licensed special educator teaching remedial classes at Colorado High School Charter, an alternative school. She holds a MA in administration and policy from the University of Colorado at Denver and is a former candidate for the Colorado State Board of Education.

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On Profanity

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Some of the best words in any language are taboo. No other words possess such power, such potential to strike ear drums like mallets. In English, our forbidden words are usually the profane, dirty, and rude ones. Yet these words are heard more and more often in more and more circumstances. Some people report that the dirtiest mouths belong to the likes of pirates and Marines, but a few footsteps into a high school reveals hearty competition.

Lately I have been rankled by not only how frequently students swear, but by how casually they do so. These words, whether F’s or –its, are usually used with the same spirit and weight as the words good and hello. This trend will bring undesired consequences for, paradoxically, the more easily these words are used, the less useful they are. Of course, some of the greatest books, plays, movies, and songs are peppered with profanities. One enterprising scholar once drained the volatile plays of avid Marmet of their F words and left them 30% lighter in length and 100% weaker in impact. Marmet, a master of dialogue, may be the Shakespeare of the F word; his characters use it, his plays demand it, and his audiences are richer for it.

But profanity must be used with skill and care. Like clichés and guitar solos, if cuss words are overused, they lose their gusto. Look at how television has changed in just the past few years. NYPD Blue adopted a few formerly taboo words and now sends the ripping over the airwaves each week. Instead of shocking us with its brazenness, however, the show has simply neutered a few more words that now are considered banalities.

This condition does not speak only to epithets. Consider the word awesome. Once it was used only when speaking of miracles, of genuine awe-inspiring acts of the divine – a sea parted, a leper cured. Now it describes the flavor of a piece of bubble gum. The same fate may be in line for profanity unless we keep these words restricted in certain arenas e.g., a classroom, their potency will fade until they in fact have no more force than the word doorknob.

Hence, Mr. Enrici’s Rule of the Tongue: You may not use profanity in the classroom, on your papers, or in your stories. Yes, I know these words have meaning. I know they are valuable. Sometimes they are the best and only words to use in art and in life. But that is precisely why I forbid them here. By keeping profanity taboo, we preserve its power, its integrity---and live to cuss another day.

Teacher's Desk: Unions & Charters

In New York the teachers union wants to organize a couple of KIPP charter schools. That couldn't be done in Denver without concessions by the local union, since every charter school employee is an “at will” employee as is written into all charter contracts with school districts or the state. No doubt NYC union teachers were severely disturbed with the KIPP (Knowledge Is Power Program) required work week, 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. However, the teachers are fairly compensated for the longer hours. Most teachers at charter schools would be considered probationary teachers at a district school. Why? Most of these teachers either do not have an initial license, professional license or have less than three years service at their schools. In Colorado, a probationary teacher is also an “at will” employee. The teacher’s contract can be non-renewed and the district does not need to give a reason. The teacher is then banned from working at any school in the district. I learned about this law the hard way when I worked at a Denver district high school. I was nearing the end of my last probationary year, when the interim principal who had only been in that position for three weeks and had previously retired from an elementary school assistant superintendent position, popped into my classroom, observed my instruction for only five minutes and then asked to speak with me after school. According to Colorado law, he didn’t need to step foot in my class. It was a crazy class that day with everyone and their father popping their heads in needing something. After a slow start, and after the interim principal’s departure, I had one of my better instructionally executed classes on finding the area of a circle.

I used my right to grieve and won my grievance as he did not use evaluative measures spelled out in the Denver Classroom Teachers’ Association’s contract with Denver Public Schools. Those evaluative measures are best practices and are used at every school I’ve worked with. Teachers are asked what instructional and academic goals they have for themselves that school year. The evaluating principal (sometimes it is an assistant principal) sets up an appointment to observe, observes, speaks to the teacher about what he saw, does a few “walk-throughs” during the course of year, pops in and observes another class, speaks to the teacher about what he saw, fills out an evaluation form and again speaks with the teacher. Sometimes the evaluating principal will also speak with colleagues and/or survey students so he has a well-rounded picture of the teacher’s work ethic and instructional ability. I had good evaluations before this “school leader’s” decision to derail my career and since. I won the battle, but because of Colorado’s probationary teacher law, I lost the war---so I thought.

The community, my colleagues, and my students were mortified, as was I, when we heard of my non-renewal, and both students and colleagues tried to speak with the interim principal to no avail. The students were told it was “none of your business.” The students and parents threw me a terrific going-away party with students pitching in their own cash on a massive fifty dollar cake.

I checked with my colleagues the following year and discovered the interim principal had hired an African-American friend, like himself, as my replacement.

Poor school leadership practices are why teachers’ unions flourish and why there is tremendous growth in the charter school movement. I applied for positions to charter schools close to my home and where I had previous relationships because they have their own hiring practices and do not participate in the non-renewal ban. Not only was I treated very well, but they also gave me recognition for a job well done. How often do any of us receive that!

Teacher's Desk: Anatomy of a career

Mine was a circuitous route to the classroom. I initially planned on a teaching career, belonged to Future Teachers of America in high school, and started my secondary teaching classes at Metropolitan State College in the 1970s. But I decided not to go into teaching at the time because the prevailing school of thought was to bend over backwards for poor and minority students rather than help them meet high expectations - contrary to my values - so I did a variety of other things for some years. It took a bout with pneumonia to finally get me back to teaching.

In my feverish bed, I decided I wanted to become a school principal so I could affect as many students as possible. I began working for the Gear-Up program at a Denver middle school. I lost at musical chairs, so I tutored and performed inclusionary services in the seventh and eighth grade math classrooms. The poor seventh grade teacher was earning a license in an alternative licensure program having previously been an engineer.

One of the best ways for me to help, so we thought, was for me to pull half the class of thirty some students, so that he could get his classroom management under control. It probably wasn’t a good idea since one of the students who stayed in his classroom lit another student’s hair on fire. Eight weeks later, I filled in as the seventh grade math teacher. It went reasonably smoothly, but one day two of my female students began to fight. I couldn’t get to the telephone, so I sent a student to get help and I protected the computer! My priorities were obviously in the correct place!

While attending graduate school, my student colleagues suggested I go into special education since I needed to have a teaching license in order to obtain a principal’s license at the end of my graduate program. I finally found a position with an elementary school in Aurora Public Schools district. I worked with kindergarteners with developmental delays in an inclusive setting. I had great fun with the kindergartners, forged nice relationships with parents, but always felt that I was all thumbs. A troubled high school in Denver Public Schools posted a job listing for a special education math teacher. One day I was teaching sweet kindergartners and the next day teenage thugs. I had a case of educational whiplash. Don’t get me wrong; I love my thugs. It truly was an interesting experience. At 1:20 P.M. every day for two and one half years, the alarm went off and we would evacuate the building. At lunch time, there was a girl fight two or three times a week. There was always some sort of craziness going on.

I absolutely loved my students. I built great relationships with them---and their parents and we frequently tag-teamed to discard poor behaviors and replace them with positive behaviors. My final year there, I taught both math and life science. Once in two of my classes on the same day, students totally broke me up. During a math class, one of my male students stood up and said, “Did you call me gay?” I immediately told him, “No. Do you want me to?” We all broke up. Later in a science class, after I reviewed the previous day’s lesson on male anatomy, one of my juniors who was engaged to be married blurted out, “I have a penis!” “Oh,” I said. “Whose?”

It may have been a full moon (cue moon jokes here). Or just the lingering fever delirium that never goes away when you have the teaching bug.

Kathleen Kullback is a licensed special educator at Colorado High School Charter, holds a masters degree in educational leadership, and ran for the State Board of Education.