I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March.  You should do it too!  Thank you, Two Writing Teachers! Readers, check out their site, and start slicing! 

Today I am a 6th grade teacher. I plan lessons, I love learning. I attempt to listen to my students more than I talk to them. I enjoy my school day and I try to balance my life as a teacher and a mom.

28 years ago, I was a fifth grader (I think I did that math correctly…) and I did not enjoy school. I was not having a good year. I cried myself to sleep every night.  I missed my best friend, my old house, the way things used to be. I lived middle school in a daze. I moved from classroom to classroom. With so many teachers, I  tried to learn, I think. But learning wasn’t my priority. Practicing math facts and spelling words were things people told me to do, not things I cared about. I had a headache every day. My teachers didn’t believe me. It was not a good year.

Today I sit with a student and his mom, 2 other teachers, and a guidance counselor. We are talking about organization and writing things in the assignment book. We discuss zoning out vs. paying attention to what is being said, and how to know what work needs to be done. It feels respectful, it feels like a team. My student is calm as he answers questions, and he listens as we explain. We tell him things like, “We know it’s hard” and “We’re here to help you.”

28 years ago, I was the student with my mom, in a room with my teachers, counselor and I think my principal too. I don’t remember why we were there exactly — a combination of my poor grades and my headaches that most of the teachers thought I was faking. I do not remember feeling calm. I remember feeling attacked and nervous. I remember my chin shaking as I stuck up for myself. I remember telling them that it wasn’t okay that Mr. R played music while we took quizzes, that I couldn’t concentrate. I remember Mrs. M joining my side, sticking up for me. I remember my mom telling them that I did indeed have headaches, that I was trying my best. I remember her telling me that I did a good job sticking up for myself in front of all of my teachers and the other adults.

Today I sit in a meeting and I find myself transported back to my meeting 28 years ago.

I hope my student feels it,  the reason we are here. I hope he knows that we are trying to help him. I hope he knows this is a team.

As he leaves I say, “You did a great job talking to all of these adults! Thank you.”

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers. Head over there for information and links to more Slicing!

Last weekend was the Karate test. Both of my “big kids” were up for their second yellow stripe. My husband, my 4 year old and I sat squished among all the other parents watching the test. At first I was mostly just nervous for my kids, hoping they didn’t mess up…wondering what would happen if one of them passed the test and the other didn’t. I reminded myself that the class was testing because their teacher thought they were ready to test.

Then I started noticing the slices of assessment…

Before the test, I saw the Karate Teacher, Master Y kneel next to the group of students and give what I’ll call “The Mistakes Talk.” He told them, “You’ll make mistakes. That’s okay. That’s how you learn. Nobody’s going to fail the test because they make mistakes. Try not to make the same mistake over and over again. The judges will take notes so you can learn from today.” Even though it was a test, they knew it was okay if they made mistakes, and that they should continue to learn.

As the students tested, Master Y gave them reminders about their forms that were direct and to the point. Just because it was a test, their teacher was not silent.  “K’ihaps can be stronger.”  He reminded them.

Master Y told his students what was next. Before he called out directions, he said, “I’ll call them in order so you won’t be confused.” Just because it was a test, it didn’t need to be tricky.  In fact, as some of the students were testing for their yellow belt, Master Y told the watching yellow stripe students, “What you see is what you’ll be doing in your next test –something to aspire to.”

Each student had a judge watching them. Black belts watched as these beginning karate students worked their way through forms and then sparred with them. A person to evaluate each student, give each student personalized advice!  After the first sparring round, Master Y asked the black belts to tell the students a number to redo. They had a chance to redo something they hadn’t done as well on in the first place! 

At the end of the test, the judges and Master Y went to the back room. As he left, he addressed the students: “I’m going back to discuss what I saw. Sit quietly and think about how you did today and what you saw. And think if it inspired you at all.

It inspired me. I have been thinking about what elements of this kind of assessment I have or  can have in my classroom. I don’t teach karate, and I’m certainly not in charge of the capital A Assessments that my students have to take… but what lessons can I learn about testing? Rolling around in my head are thoughts of individualized assessment, conferring, the power of mistake making, helping students with their confidence, choosing specific goals with students, giving students the chance to redo when possible…

I’d love to hear from you, reader. What lessons can you learn from what I noticed at Karate. Or, what assessment lessons have you recently learned?