Wednesday, 16 November 2016

Lazy Differentiation


(There's a tl;dr list of tips at the bottom in bold for anyone who doesn't want to read the narrative!)

Yesterday, I was in my classroom wading through my perennial pools of marking (ah, the life of an English teacher) when a colleague came in to ask for advice.

"I'm running a session on differentiation tomorrow for the NQTs and trainees," she said, "and [AVP mentioned in my previous posts] said you're really good at it. Can you help?"

"What, me?" I replied, taken aback. (I've been a Lead Teacher for 9 weeks now and still haven't grown accustomed to the whole 'being an expert' thing.) "I don't really do anything special."

Colleague looked confused. "Maybe she's seen you do something good."

"Or has seen some resources I put on the system. Let me think."

"I'm really sorry to bother you..."

"No! It's no worries at all. Hang on."

So I trundled over to my computer where the PowerPoints of the day were still open because...well, see the title. Lazy.

"Well, there's this," I said, "that I used with Y11 today. It's just success criteria colour-coded - green is the basic stuff they need to get to the Grade 5...we think. It's a little like throwing darts at a board while blindfolded at the minute with the new exams. The red stuff stretches them beyond. That way they can self-assess or peer assess, and the ones who do all the basic stuff can stretch to the harder skills, or if they 'finish' early they can edit their responses."

"Oh," she said. I think there was a little surprise in her voice. Who can blame her? She'd come for some advice, and... "That's really good."

"Huh. I guess so."

Was that differentiation? Really? That's not how I imagined it...

(Imagine the Scooby Doo sound effect and the wavy-line-flashback effect here.)

In my head swam memories of lessons I delivered as a trainee and an NQT with four different sheets of help available - writing frame, sentence stems, key words, an extension challenge - all fluttering together in a pile of confusion and frustration. (I'm not a naturally organised person; I have to work very hard at it. I'm going to try and get 'Seriously can't cope with loads of bits of paper' listed as a psychiatric condition in the next version of the DSM. Thank you, Bill Gates, for Microsoft Outlook and its reminder feature.)

Anyhow, to me, that was differentiation. "Here ya go, Jimmy-Joe-Bob, you'll want to use this to help." "Susie, you'll want...wait, no, you want this one...." "Oh, you're finished, Penelope? Here's a sheet with some advanced vocabulary on it; use that to rewrite your - oh, wait, no, that's the writing frame again."

Time consuming. Frustrating. Expensive. And not very good for the kids, for three reasons:

1) The kid who needs the sheet with the most help feels singled out and doesn't want to use it - and it heightens the stigma some pupils with DSEN feel.

2) It's actually not that great for their learning. Sure we can give them a zillion writing frames and key words sheets and sentence stems...and then we send them into an exam that's a question and a giant, unending sea of blank pages.

3) When the kids have come to rely on it, you can guarantee that you'll have that one day where you've been marking Y11 mocks until the owls are telling you to go to bed; you're being observed with your Y9s; you've been running a club after school and you just, simply, don't have the time to make four different sheets for your Y7 class because they MUST know how to write a PEE paragraph by now, right? And the kid who has never had to write on a blank piece of paper is suddenly ping-ponging back and forth between staring at their book like it's a snake - and staring at you like you just strangled their puppy.

(Scooby Doo sound effects, flash back to the present and my conversation with my lovely, patient colleague.)

"Okay," she said. "So, what do you do for the weaker kids?"

"Well, the Y11 stuff is for a middle group and a mid-low group. But for Y7s I do a lot of oral rehearsal," I explained.

"What's that?"

So I pulled up a PowerPoint from the Scheme of Learning I wrote on The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. "Basically, they talk it before they write it. They have an oracy frame, two different ones, so if they finish the first, they go on to the second."

It looks something like this (from a Week 3 lesson):

“Edmund is presented as _____ because he…,which makes the reader feel... whereas Lucy is presented as _______ because she…, which makes the reader feel...”

Extra challenge: Edmund is presented as ________ because he ________ which we can see in the quotation “…”, which makes the reader feel _________ because..., whereas Lucy is presented as _________ because she ________ in the quotation “…,” which makes the reader feel ________ because..."

"So, they read it out before they write it down," she said, "and fill in the blanks with a partner."

"Yeah."

"I need to do more of this...and what's your display?"

I laughed. "That one," I said, indicating right, "is a wall of words that can be used to describe characters, and this one-" I pointed left this time "-is a collage of mood and effect words."

"So if they aren't sure what to put, they can look at the displays to help them. They're pretty advanced words."

"Yeah," I said and laughed. "My top Y10s look like they're watching Wimbledon at the minute while they're writing up essays. And there are key terms all over the room in case they're not sure if something is a noun, verb, simile, whatever."

She sat back in her chair and looked at me. "It all seems really easy."

"It involves a bit of time the first time you teach something - but now that I've got it, I won't have to make it from scratch again; I can just edit it based on the feedback from the exam board after this first year. And the stuff I've done for Y11 can be used for Y9 and Y10 as it goes all the way from Grade 1 to Grade 9."

Cocking her head, she asked, "So when you teach, do you teach to the bottom, then?"

I paused and thought for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." I remembered attending differentiation training as a GTP student with a lovely, passionate SENCO who advised us to "Teach to the bottom and then stretch up - otherwise you'll lose a third of your class and have to re-teach everything again."

Wise words.

So, I've had a thought about things I do / have done in my classroom. Here are some tips for lazy differentiation, for those of you who - like me - detest zillions of bits of paper floating about.

1) Stair-stepped success criteria that starts at Grade 1 and ends at Grade 9. Obviously, use your judgement - your bottom set Y7 isn't going to need to see what a Y11 Grade 9 looks like, but it won't hurt for your middle Y9 to have something to aspire to. I use an adapted-for-EdExcel version of the targets developed by the very talented "Learning from My Mistakes" found here - http://learningfrommymistakesenglish.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/targets-targets-and-more-targets.html (His are for AQA.)

2) Oral rehearsal using an oracy frame for new exam structures. This is just like a writing frame - except with no writing! Display it on the whiteboard. Put a basic and a challenge version up if you like. Kids practise orally with a partner before writing. As my old headteacher used to say..."If you can talk it, you can write it."

3) Displays of key terms and other advanced vocabulary that will help them to write responses. I'm happy to send you through my ethically-pilfered-then-made-pretty display stuff if you like (effect words and character words) - email me at Mel.E.Gold2063 @ gmail . com and I'll send 'em through. Emotion wheels work well for writing about characters' emotions and effect on the reader / personal response - a Google image search will turn up dozens.

4) Teach to the bottom and then stretch up. I'm lucky enough to work in a school with very tight setting (1-9) so there aren't massive gaps - but this was still true for the Y7 class I had as an RQT with kids from a reading age of 6 to 16. It's easier to put some extension instructions on the board than it is to print a gajillion sheets.

5) Easily differentiated group work. At my current school, the desks are in rows (through necessity due to the types of desks and layout of the classrooms), so I've not used it here - but in schools where group work is an expectation, this is a super-easy way to differentiate without stigmatising the kids. At my old school, where groups (except top set) were mixed ability, my tables were in groups of four and I stuck a picture in the corner of each kid's book - tea, coffee, milk, or sugar - which is in descending order of ability. This made it very easy to say things like, "Teas, write a sentence of personification to describe this image. Coffees, use a metaphor. Milk - a simile. Sugar - three challenging adjectives. You're going to do a group description and will need all your ideas!" It also meant that if I wanted single-ability groups, I could put all the 'Teas' together, all the 'Coffees'...eh, you get the idea.

6) Questioning using Blooms. This can go one of two ways - either in quizzing, or orally. Orally, know your kids - who will just about cope with finding you a quotation or remembering what the Ghost of Christmas Past looked like? Who will be able to critique Dickens' style? In quizzing, I start with knowledge and then work up with a very tight time limit - the more able kids will naturally work through more quickly, and the less able will benefit from their answers in feedback. Example:

Scrooge is described using a semantic field of cold in Stave 1.
1) Find the words that describe Scrooge and also have to do with the cold. (Knowledge.)
2) What impression does this create of Scrooge? (Understanding.)
3) Explain why Dickens has used this semantic field. (Application.)
4) Choose the best word. Explain two different possible effects and give reasons. (Analysis.)
5) Can you make connections between this description and anything else you've read? (Synthesis.)
6) What criticisms can you make of Dickens' portrayal of Scrooge in this way? (Evaluation.)

What lazy differentiation tips do you have? Let me know in the comments!

Saturday, 15 October 2016

Training a new drummer...like teaching Y10 Set 1?

I'm a singer in a band in my (limited) spare time. Recently, our drummer left and we've got a new chap in. He's fab. He's enthusiastic, friendly, driven - and he's an extremely skilled drummer with years of practice behind him.

He's also got a huge task. We've got a back catalogue of 11 original songs plus three covers - and we've written 10 songs for a new album. With a total of 24 songs to learn, he's got his work cut out for him.

And he's doing great. He's got 9 down already, since the middle of September.

While we were rehearsing on Thursday, I reflected that Drummer Boy (henceforth DB) and his situation are not terribly dissimilar to my Y10s.

Hang with me for a minute.

My Y10s are enthusiastic, friendly, and driven. They are skilled readers and analysers with years of practice with challenging texts. Like DB, they have the skills.

What they both lack is the knowledge of the new material and the ability to consistently apply their skills to that material. For DB, that would be our songs. For my Y10s, it would be the poems in the Conflict cluster.

So, I had a think about how we structure rehearsals so that DB can learn our new songs.

1) He listens to a track repeatedly for a week in advance and drums along with it at home.

2) We listen to it again at the start of rehearsal. He drums along with his hands on his seat.

3) We visually display a breakdown of how the song is organised. Ha, 'visually display' sounds so professional. We write in Sharpie on an A2 piece of paper and use blu-tak to stick it to the wall near his kit. (A simple song looks something like "Intro riff x4, verse riff x2, verse w/vox x4, bridge x2, chorus x4, crazy riff x2, verse w/vox x4, bridge x2, chorus x4, solo x8 - guitar x4, keys x4, crazy riff x2, off-time weirdness x3, chorus x4, key change chorus x2, outro.)

4) We play through the song once.

5) We talk through the bits that went well and put a star next to the bits that didn't go so well.

6) We go back to the original track and listen to the parts where it went a bit wrong.

7) We start with the first section that went wrong, and we JUST play through that section. We talk through how it goes, play it, talk it, play it - until it's right. Then we move on to the next section.

8) Once each section is ironed out, we play through the song at least three more times. After the first time, we take the structure off of the wall so that he plays the song from memory.

9) We then put the song into its place in the set and play through the set - all the songs he's learned before plus the new one.

10) We decide on a track to focus on for the next week. We say what's gone well and what might need a bit more work. I make a note of it and put it on our Facebook group so that we all know areas we need to look at.

So, as my Y10s face their first rehearsal exam, I've considered how I can apply this sort of approach to our lessons next week. It's been effective for DB (and we only have about 2 hours a week to rehearse - I'll have 2.5 hours with my Y10s before their rehearsal).

1) Listening to a track repeatedly at home. Pupils have read the poems and annotated them for homework (with guidance ahead of time in class).

2) We listen to it again at the start of rehearsal. In the classroom, we review key content, language and structure at the start of lesson.

3) Visually display a breakdown of how the song is organised. Display suggested essay plans on board.

4) Play through the song once. Pupils write a paragraph of analysis.

5) Talk through the bits that went well and put a star next to the bits that didn't go so well. Pupils peer assess the paragraph against a checklist.

6) Go back to the original track and listen to the parts where it went a bit wrong. Pupils look at a colour-coded WAGOLL and colour-code / self assess their own work.

7) We start with the first section that went wrong, and we JUST play through that section. We talk through how it goes, play it, talk it, play it - until it's right. Then we move on to the next section. Pupils choose one skill to focus on and write a paragraph, practising orally before writing. They peer assess. If they get it right, they move on to the next skill. If not, they practise that one again.

8) Once each section is ironed out, we play through the song at least three more times. After the first time, we take the structure off of the wall so that he plays the song from memory. Pupils write a full essay, focusing on incorporating the skills they've been working on, with the scaffolding taken away. They annotate and show where they've improved. (I'm not going to make them write it three times. There's a limit to this analogy.)

9) We then put the song into its place in the set and play through the set - all the songs he's learned before plus the new one. This would be akin to writing it in the time limit within a full exam, which we don't have time for in a single lesson (50 minutes) - but it would be great practice if we could!

10) We decide on a track to focus on for the next week. We say what's gone well and what might need a bit more work. I make a note of it and put it on our Facebook group so that we all know areas we need to look at. Pupils record a key skill / aspect they still need to develop and practise it for homework before the rehearsal exam.

Hopefully the approaches we've taken with DB will help Y10 rapidly gain the ability to apply their skills more effectively to the new material. I shall update when they've sat their rehearsals!

Wednesday, 12 October 2016

Converting to Direct Instruction: It’s All about Me…and yet, Not All About Me


So, in September, I started my new job as a Lead Teacher in English at a big secondary school in South Yorkshire. I’d spent 6 years as KS3 Coordinator and a year before that as an Assessment for Learning coordinator.

As my previous school was in special measures, I’ve spent the last few years working with experts about what makes lessons outstanding. I’ve learning walked, coached others, mentored trainees, had others come to watch me…and I was pretty sure I knew what made a lesson outstanding.

Loads of different activities! Kids taking ownership! Not telling them anything! Enquiry! Group work! Questioning! Personalised learning! I even had a little book that I referred to constantly that was basically an ingredient list for an OfSted outstanding lesson.

Last week, my new department had its first review. The AVP (Assistant Vice Principal) was coming to see me with top set Y10 – a bright, hardworking class who had obviously been well-taught at KS3. They’re keen, (mostly) enthusiastic, opinionated, bright little sponges.

‘Wow,’ I thought. ‘This is a gift. I can really show off in my first observation!’

I had it all in my plan. It was based on weaknesses I’d noticed in their books: namely, explicitly linking poets’ structural and language choices to context. I had structured group work prepared with roles assigned to challenge the most able pupils. Each group was taking responsibility for different aspects of different poems, so they’d be responsible for others’ learning. Context information for the poems was printed and ready. Structured questions to focus the pupils’ discussions and notes were printed. They were bright, and I was ‘throwing them into the pit’ with the tools to dig themselves out.

The group work was leading to an exciting S&L activity where pupils would take on the role of a poet and answer interview questions that linked structure/language to context and message – and the best part was: the pupils would be writing the questions and the answers! I was so excited.
If I could have tap danced on the ceiling, I would have…but my knee was sore. (Too much Pokemon Go.)

It was an (old) OfSted dream: pupils taking charge of their learning. Pupils learning from pupils. Who could ask for anything more?

My AVP could.

In the lesson, it became VERY clear that the pupils were unaccustomed to group work (structured or unstructured). The roles I’d painstakingly created and assigned were ignored because I didn’t spend enough time going through them. The pupils talked about the poems very generally. The questions I’d assigned helped focus their thinking and elicited some high-level responses, but there was a group off-task because…well, because they had the opportunity to go off-task.

The S&L presentations the next lesson went very well, and there was some very insightful comment about the relationship between structure/language and context. Whether that will transfer to their written work…I suppose I’ll find out when I take their books in on Friday.

After the observation, I met with the AVP after my lesson to talk about implementing a new-old initiative called “Direct Instruction.” To use an aphorism, it’s all about moving the teacher away from the “Guide from the Side” role and back to being the “Sage on the Stage.” We took the opportunity to go through my lesson while I was there.

Turns out what I thought was amazing…was a big waste of time.

“What did you want them to learn by the end of your lesson?” she asked me to begin.

“I wanted them to make better links between context and structure and language.”

“Okay,” she said. “So you gave them what, half a lesson to go through the context information, and-“

“And to link it to the poets’ structural and language choices.”

“And what did they learn in your lesson that they couldn’t have done for themselves? That they couldn’t have done with some carefully planned homework?”

“I…well…”

“They haven’t written very many essays for a top set,” she said.

“It’s been so full-on teaching the poems. We’re having to do three a week to get through them.”

“And how long did you spend on getting them to link context to structure and language?”

“Two lessons. And a half,” I admitted. “And they haven’t written anything up about it yet, other than their notes.”

“That could have been done in half a lesson,” she said. “Give them the context information, show them how to link it to the choices, and then get them to practise it. Peer assess each other, and practise it again. You check it, and then practise it again. Of course it’s taking you a week to get through three poems.”

“But the skills!” I lamented. “They’re going to have to analyse unseen poetry. If I just tell them everything they need to know…”

“You model the skills,” she explained. “You show them the thought process – instruction. Then they practise it – over and over  – that’s the practise phase. Then they mark it, or you mark it, and they respond – feedback.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I thought back to my training, back in 2004-2005. The old AQA Literature paper had a HUGE chunk of poems, and pupils had to write about FOUR of them in their essays. I observed the HOD with a middle set, and she taught three poems a lesson – without a PowerPoint or fiddly card sorts or group work or discussion. She simply opened her copy of the Anthology to a page and told the kids what to write in their annotations. Then she spent the bulk of her lessons teaching them exam technique. Her results were outstanding.

Maybe my AVP was on to something.

(Of course my AVP was on to something. Otherwise she wouldn’t be AVP.)

“I have a lesson I’m planning to teach tomorrow,” I said. “Year 11 – language and structure. Their annotations are poor, but they know how to annotate. They had already annotated their Anthologies for summer homework, so they’ve obviously got the ability.”

“So they’re lazy?”

“Or they haven’t transferred the skills.”

I pulled up my PowerPoint.

“Oh Mel,” she said. “How many slides?”

“This one shares the objectives and outcomes. That one goes over the AO and how much it’s worth-”

“And your kids don’t care. What do you want them to be able to do at the end of the lesson?”

“Annotate in detail.”

“So there’s your objective. What’s your outcome?”

“To be able to annotate texts. At least five structural and five language features with links to the question.”

And so we sat and replanned the (double) lesson. We cut more than half of the PowerPoint slides. The structure looks like this:

1) Read the text for meaning. Identify the purpose and audience and practise the low-mark retrieval and inference questions.

2) Self-mark the retrieval and inference questions.

3) Model – by thinking aloud – annotating the first third of the text. Pupils add annotations to their texts.

4) Model – by questioning pupils – the next third of the text. Pupils add annotations to their texts.

5) Pupils independently annotate the rest of the text.

6) Pupils come to the board and put an annotation each up.

7) Talk through the annotations – why the good ones are good and what is missing from underdeveloped ones. We improve them together.

8) Pupils practise annotating a series of short texts – three minutes each – for language and structure.

9) Pupils colour-code their annotations – one colour for structure, one for language, and a third for links to the question. Pupils write what they need to do more of at the bottom of the texts.

10) Pupils revisit a previous article and annotate, aiming to meet the targets they set themselves. A slide of key terms (differentiated) is available to jog memories.

This will lead into a lesson on Friday where we write up a Paper 2 Structure and Language (EdExcel) question.

Every single kid had a boatload more annotations on their pieces – a mix of structure and language – with links to the question. They’ve done the ‘brainwork’ so the next bit will be structuring it into a coherent answer.

Was it exciting and enthralling? No. Did I tap-dance on the ceiling? No. Was it student-led? No. Did it have collaborative learning? No.

Did I put on a silly voice to represent my thoughts telling me what to do? Yes. (I’m still me.)

Did the kids moan about it? Yes. (One pretended to sleep.)

Did they riot and refuse? No.

Why? Because they need the skills and the practice. The pace was fast, and so while the content was not terribly exciting or interactive, they had no time to complain. They could see themselves getting better at the skills. (And I’m lucky to work in a school with a really good discipline system.)

Did they all make progress at identifying and explaining structural and language features?

Definitely.

And in the end…that’s what matters.

So, I’m a quick convert to Direct Instruction.

Anyhow…I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to go and re-plan my lessons for the rest of the week.