Boring and Stressful

You know what’s boring for a teacher?

Watching students take a test. It’s technically called proctoring a test and it’s a yawnfest.

Let’s face it, assessments are not be most fun part of school for most folks. A lot of students find them boring and stressful. I understand that because I have some of the same feelings regarding assessments.

It’s boring to watch people take a test. I’d rather take the test than watch it being taken.

The stressful part for me is correcting fifty assessments accurately and as quickly as possible.

With math, I need to dig into each and every problem on each student’s assessment to see if they really understand the learning target I am assessing. It’s arduous work. It’s tedious. It’s very repetitive. It’s also stressful because for an assessment to have real meaning it must be corrected and returned to the student quickly.

So, you’re not the only ones living with boredom and stress - I am too, just in a different way.

The Case of the Missing Sharpener

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain lashed the windows and the trees bent to the fury of the wind. 

Despite the tumult outside, it was quiet and peaceful in room 102. Twin shafts of dim light were splayed across the desks, chairs and floor. Slowly, from the deepest shadows, a smallish, darkly garbed figure emerged. Silently gliding past the wall of coat hooks, around Hoadley’s desk and past the cappuccino maker, the figure slithered like an anaconda.

There, in the back of the room, he neared the object of his desire. Its fine craftsmanship was evident. Made from rare, imported plastic and stainless steel of the highest tensile strength, it was valuable beyond measure. It nearly glowed in the dim light - a deep, rich, blood-red hue. 

His breath came in ragged gasps of excitement as his eyes fell on the one thing he desired above all others. His leather encased hand reached and grasped the treasure, caressing it and rolling it into his palm. His excitement was palpable. “My Precious,” he hissed. Slowly, he turned and skulked from the room.

It was silent, again, and strangely empty.

That, my friends, is how we lost our pencil sharpener. 

Now, my legion of junior Sherlock Holmes' we must restore our room to its original condition. The sharpener must be returned to it’s rightful place. All depends on your work. Failure dooms us to a year of writing with dull, lifeless pencils. 

We must find our sharpener! 

Go now and investigate. Search, question and prevail. All depends on you!

The Day I Met An Astronaut

I had the pleasure of meeting and speaking with an active duty astronaut just one time. It was an honor and I admit to being a little tongue tied. 

I think to fully appreciate the story you need to know a little background first. 

I was born in 1959, just as the space race was beginning. 

President Kennedy was elected in November 1960, in part, because of a perceived "missile gap" with the Soviet Union. Kennedy keyed part of his presidential campaign on the belief that the United States was losing the space race.

By the time Kennedy took the oath of office, the first seven astronauts had been selected and were training for the upcoming manned space flights of the Mercury program. For me, their names resonate with history:

Alan Shepard; "Gus" Grissom; John Glenn; "Deke" Slayton; Scott Carpenter; Gordon Cooper; and "Wally" Schirra.

They were all military test pilots. They flew the newest, fastest, most dangerous jets before anyone else. Volunteers. Each braver and more dashing than the others. They were the embodiment  of the "Right Stuff" before the term was coined. Life magazine and the TV networks lionized these men. And so did I.

In 1961, NASA successfully launched Shepard and Grissom into space. A few months later, Glenn orbited the Earth.

Later, they were joined by the second seven and more after that. Men like Ed White, Neil Armstrong, Jim Lovell, Roger Chaffee, Gene Cernan, John Young and "Buzz" Aldrin. 

After the Mercury Program came Gemini and Apollo. 

In those days space flight wasn't routine. A space mission was a national event. The television networks covered it live and for hours on end. I enthusiastically watched every moment of mission coverage. I read everything I could get my young hands on. I became the space expert in my school and among my friends. 

These men were my heroes. Larger than life. Braver than brave. Testosterone dripped off these men like sweat on a hot August day.  

And I bought it all, as did everyone else. 

I was nine years old when the astronauts of Apollo Eight read from Genesis as their spacecraft orbited the Moon on Christmas Eve, 1968. I remember it for the awe-inspiring event it was. 

Seven months later, I was watching Neil Armstrong ease himself down the lunar lander's ladder onto the dusty surface of our nearest neighbor. 

Mission accomplished. And with that, the public turned its collective attention to other matters. Apollo continued but some missions were cancelled.The follow-on was the uninspiring Skylab program, then a gap while the shuttles were built. 

The media and the public may have turned a blind eye to the space program but I hadn't. 

When I saw that an astronaut would be speaking at the Hanscom Air Show in 1991 or 1992, I made sure I was there. I brought my oldest boy but traffic was a mess and we had to park a mile away. 

By the time we found the right tent it was almost over. We walked into the back of the tent while the closing remarks were wafting over the crowd. 

We'd missed it. 

I was crushed. 

It must have shown on my face. We made eye contact. A single finger held aloft told me to wait as the crowd began to stand and disperse. 

And in a moment I was shaking hands with an honest to God, flight-tested, space-faring, red-blooded American astronaut. For all the Corvette driving, jet fighter flying, testosterone pumping images, the astronaut standing in front of me was a woman. 

And she was as nice as she was smart and brave. She'd seen me rush in just in time to catch the final words of her talk. She'd made sure to catch my eye and ask me to stay. I introduced her to my son and we made small talk for a minute before she had to go. 

I don't know her name. I've hunted around the internet, but I can't find any mention of who she was. But it doesn't matter. I met an astronaut and she was great. 

Will This Be Graded?

As a teacher, I am asked a lot of questions each day. Questions like:
“Is there homework?”
“When is this due?”
“We had homework?”
“What do I do with this handout?”
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
“Why do I have to take math?”
“Why are you wearing one brown and one black sock?”

What question do I dislike the most?

“Will this be graded?”

I hate hearing this question because it goes against everything we work for at McAuliffe. It is the antithesis of a growth mindset. When a student asks this question, it’s not idle curiosity. He or she is gauging his/her level of effort. That student is motivated by the grade not the learning.

At our school, we are all about learning not achieving grades. Grades are an external motivation. If you get great grades, your parents are pleased and you’ll probably get lots of praise and that feels really good. Everyone likes praise, it’s only natural. Getting poor grades probably assures that your parents will be on your case and no one wants that, right?

But, what happens when praise and punishment are removed? What happens in high school where your parents don’t see everything you do? What happens when you go to college and your parents are not there to praise or ride you for every quiz, test or paper?

As you grow, you must be able to achieve without a daily pat on the back or the threat of punishment. Motivation must come from within. As a future high school and college student, you must learn how to take satisfaction from learning something new and take pride in doing high-quality work even if no one provides praise. That should be one of your most important goals going forward - learning how to motivate yourself and not relying on praise or punishment from others.

Don’t get me wrong, taking pride in your work and achieving good grades are wonderful things, but they are a byproduct of a growth mindset where learning is the ultimate goal and provides its own reward.

The Twirling Thing

I have this habit that you’ve probably noticed. Sometimes, when I’m waiting, I take my glasses off and spin them around in my right hand.

Please, do not try this with your glasses.

Your glasses probably have prescription lenses and you had to go to a doctor to get them. Then, you probably spent quite a bit of time choosing just the right frames to hold those lenses. Your parents probably paid hundreds of dollars for your glasses.

I did not visit the doctor for an eye examination or pour over hundreds of choices for my frames. My glasses are reading glasses and I buy them at the dollar store. I actually bought a whole bunch of them at a dollar store that was going out of business. So, I probably paid less than a buck a pair.

If I break my glasses, it’s no big deal.

If you break your glasses, trust me, it will be a very big deal.

Do yourself a favor, don’t twirl or spin your glasses.