Differentiation. You can spend a lot of money on books, read every article you can find online and talk to every teacher you meet. Still, it can look different, is interpreted widely, and in some cases, avoided like the plague. I like to think of differentiation as the "whatever it takes" that I try to make happen in my classroom.
This week my 8th graders have been messing around with factoring polynomials. We use algebra tiles along with several other methods, but primarily when we start a new step we go to the manipulatives first. I really like for them to have a picture in their heads about what it means. When we use the algebra tiles, it simplifies things in a way you can't do verbally. "It has to make a rectangle." If you use algebra tiles, you know what I mean. If you don't, you should. Get some tiles. They are fun.
Just like every new concept we take on, I have some students who get it right away and want to plow on and others who need some time to explore it in order to truly make it their own. I always want to honor that. However, finding a way to challenge students who are ready while simultaneously supporting students who are not, and also addressing the needs of every student in between, well, it's tricky. I'll say that another way. It's tricky for me if I try to stay in control of everything happening in the room. I'm not trying to do that anymore. It's a little scary but the results are awesome.
When I am working with the whole class, I often ask for a rating from them in order to know how they are feeling about their current understanding of the skills we are working on. I use a 1-4 to match our rubric but I know some teachers use a fist to 5. For me, a 4 means they have it and they are feeling confident enough to help a peer. A 3 rating indicates that they feel they have a good understanding and they are independent. A 2 rating lets me know that they are making progress but not completely on solid ground yet. A 1 rating is our signal for "I'm a little lost. Throw me a lifeline."
Having a student rate themselves is a risk and any teacher who uses this strategy needs to understand that if a student is willing to tell you that they are a at a 1 or a 2 with their learning they not only trust you, they trust their peers. That's a big deal to me. We take a lot of time to build a culture in our classroom that supports this kind of risk taking. It is the most important work we do. When you have that kind of trust and risk-taking, your students are unstoppable. Mine definitely take risks and I praise them like crazy for it. My fastest learners are sometimes at a 1 and not ashamed to say so. My most timid math kids are sometimes at a 4. I make sure to get a picture of their work or a copy of their papers for them so they can put it in their portfolios. They don't tend to fib about where they are at. If they do, they have a reason and I have to trust them to do what is best for themselves. They have a responsibility to learn the material and to let me know if they need my help. I have a responsibility to let them meet their own needs.
That philosophy, just presented in a nutshell, is what led me to say to the kids, "self select where you need to be. I asked the kids, where are you on our 1-4 and they all over the place. So I asked them to take care of their own learning needs. I asked the 3's and 4's to move to one area of the room and the 1's and 2's to move to another. It is one thing to ask a child to raise their fingers publicly. To ask them to get up and move in front of their peers, I was honestly not convinced that they would do what they needed to do.
They moved. I gave the "moving on" group a challenge problem that would require them to figure out next step without me. It was almost half of the 22 kids in the class. The other group I had working at another set of tables. I had gotten the "moving on" group their challenge first thinking that I would spend more time with the kids who were struggling. That isn't what happened.
My "strugglers" didn't want my help. They wanted to be independent. They were helping each other. I kept offering. They shut me out. They pulled out the algebra tiles. I watched, and learned. They weren't needing anything from me really. Occasionally they let me be a part of their work. Once and a while they would ask me a question. But mostly, they just wanted time. Turns out, they understand exactly what they didn't know. They could articulate very well where they were getting stuck and they were telling each other. I did nose my way in a few times to offer youtube videos, Khan Academy activities and few possibly-helpful suggestions, but mostly I stayed out of the way.
As I check in with the "moving on" group I find that they are really needing to push themselves. They have been debating and arguing who is right and why (love hearing their reasoning and justifications). As they start to think they have found the solution I check in. It's not correct. I look at their work and ask a few questions about 'what is the rule for this step' and 'does it make sense...' One of them sees where I am going and they are off to explain it to the group before I can finish my sentence. Within a minute they have it fixed, down and asking for another problem. I give them another one and they are off. They went through several problems during the class. They never would have gotten to them if we had stayed together. My top kids would not have learned anything new. I can't afford to let that happen.
There were a couple of students that I noticed found their own place in another part of the room. I have 5 groups of tables and desks in my classroom. These two girls had given themselves 1's and I was worried about seeing them sitting alone. I offered to help them thinking that surely my wisdom would be needed. When I checked on them, they did want a little support, but not much. They wanted to work slowly. They were taking their time and doing the work one step at a time. They had written the steps out in their journal and they were moving through with each of the 10 problems they had to do. I admit that I was, by this point, blown away by the work that was happening.
I honestly doubted the self-selection of one of the students. I doubted that they should be in the "moving on" group. I doubted that they were ready and I doubted that they were engaged. I had no right to doubt them. They were engaged. They were working. And they were asking questions of their peers as they worked. They were completely supported and taking a huge risk. They wanted to try. I shut my mouth and watched them work really really intensely. They took notes. They talked about the problem. They used their white board. They didn't necessarily solve the problem completely, but by the end of the class, they could factor polynomials. I should mention, this student does not do well in school. They do not always behave in other classrooms. They don't always behave for me. Maybe today has taught me something about this child....
The room, however, was noisy. I can't close my door because my room overheats. I run fans year-round. It's just the room. It's hot. It's a new building (we are very lucky) but this room is just always warm. I worry about our noise level all of the time. So I stepped back to the center of the room ready to quiet the room down. I was, in that moment, smart enough to listen to what was going on. I'm not always smart enough to do that. Usually I'm pretty sure that I know best and I don't stop to really listen to what they are doing. There were a few comments here and there about middle-school-not-math things but mostly, the kids were intense with their work. I choose to not quiet the room. I chose to quiet me.
I am not an "old" teacher but I do have a few more "knowledge highlights" in my hair than I used to. I find that as I get older, I am more sensitive to the noise. However, I am determined to not let my need for order and control stop what is happening in my room. Every single student in my class, an 8th grade group with students of all abilities, needs and levels; every single one of them factoring polynomials. Dang. I could cry I am so happy. Now to some people, factoring may not be tear worthy. To me, I am looking at a group of kids who have self-selected their work for their own reasons, they are engaged, they are intense and I am happy.
There are a few bumps here and there, which I am learning to find quickly and address. That look from a child when they have gone off track and can't find their mistake. The look from another child when they are approaching their own personal frustration level. The look from still another child that says, "give me more, I'm bored." Algebra is awesome because there is so much new to learn. Kids feel powerful and smart and intrigued to find out that they can solve really complicated problems. I love it when a student looks at their work and announces to themselves, "Wow, I'm really smart." My biggest learning this week is that my kids know their needs better than I do and I need to trust them more. What happened in my room today was pure magic. It never would have happened if I had stood in front of that room and taken the group step by step. It's their learning. I'm going to keep looking for ways to let them own it.
No comments:
Post a Comment