Samantha Mosher, Author at Samantha Mosher

Student Centered IEP Meetings in Action

I am so very proud of all of my students. With the exception of a few, they all participated in their end-of-year ILP meetings, and most of them led or co-led their meetings. Some were nervous. Some became embarrassed or flustered and needed to use our agreed upon signal to have me take over. But most of them were rock stars (yes, this is a clinical term). I am declaring student centered IEP meetings (with the help of our digital portfolios) a success, even if there are a few things I’d change next year.

Based on what I saw during the student centered IEP meetings and some responses I got to the survey I did after the meetings were done, I came to a few conclusions:

The 6th graders definitely did better than the 7th graders with leading the meetings
Students who made digital portfolios and practiced self-reflection all year did better than those classes where I didn’t try out the digital portfolio
The better the students understood the purpose of their digital portfolios, the better they did at the meetings
Preparing for the meetings helped students to be able to both identify and understand their goals
The kids who are the most outgoing weren’t necessarily the ones who were the most comfortable in the meetings.

Digital Portfolios to Support the Meetings

While my 6th graders are, in general, a more self-reflective group than my 7th graders, I really think that the digital portfolios helped to support their self-reflection. This helped them to have more successful student centered IEP meetings. My 6th graders spoke confidently about their goals and their progress, showing examples from their digital portfolios. They were able to describe why we decided on their new goals and where they wanted to be the following year. Next year, I plan on doing digital portfolios with all of my students, and the other Learning Specialist will do the same. I’ve even convinced a few of the ELL teachers to try them with their students as well.

Skills for Public Speaking, Especially with Adults

I tried to scaffold the presentation portion of it as much as possible, but I think it was still a little intimidating to present to a room full of adults. All of my students have done some work with public speaking, but most of it has been in front of peers, rather than adults. For the most part, students found the organizers that we used to prepare for the meetings helpful, but I think I need to structure the other preparation activities differently. We tried role playing, but it tended to get a little silly. I think next year I need to set up very specific expectations about behavior and participation. I also made the mistake of assuming that the talkative, outgoing students wouldn’t need as much support in presenting to their parents and teachers. For these students, while they may be very comfortable with talking, talking about themselves and their progress can be daunting. I need to give all of my students more support next year.

Understanding Goals

It was pretty shocking to me how little understanding most of my students had their specific goals and why they existed. Most of my students told me at the end of the year that they knew what their new goals were and knew some ways we’d be working towards them next year. At the beginning of this past year, most of my students couldn’t identify their goals and couldn’t tell me why they had specific goals. Now that they’re more informed, I’m hoping that they’ll be more motivated to participate in actively working to achieve their goals.

I’m excited to plan for implementing digital portfolios and student centered IEP meetings next year and I’m sure it will be even more successful now that I’ve tried it out once.

Planning for Student Centered IEP Meetings

Student centered IEP meeting prep — A student working on self-evaluating her progress toward her goals

Over the next few weeks I’m going to have parents come into my room to discuss their child’s learning plan for next year. And I’m going to turn the meeting over to the student. It’s the first time I’ve ever done student centered IEP meetings (or ILP–Individual Learning Plan–meetings as they’re called in my school). And I’m terrified. But I’m also very excited.

Step 1: Completing Digital Portfolios for the Year

I took the first step toward having students self-reflect more and take more responsibility for their own learning when I tried out digital portfolios with my M2 students this year. For me, the logical next step was to have students do a final self-reflection at the end of the year that led to them evaluating their own progress, and then helping to lead their own student centered IEP meetings. I’m also trying this with my M3 students, who, as you may remember, “don’t go in for all that touchy-feely nonsense” like self-reflection and growth mindset. We’ll see how that goes.

Step 2: Self-Evaluation and Setting New Goals

After my students completed their portfolio work, they evaluated their progress on a more global level in order to prepare them to help lead their student centered IEP meetings: How do all of these examples of various skills within a broader goal to show progress? What do I still have left to learn? What’s the next step? How can I continue to improve next year?

Student centered IEP meeting goal setting — A student working on goal setting for his student centered IEP meeting

The students filled out the form below, describing their goal, choosing evidence from their portfolio to demonstrate their progress, rating their progress, explaining the rating, and then, with some guidance from me, setting a new goal.

Student-centered IEP meeting goal self-evaluation sheet — The goal reflection/self-evaluation sheet for our student-centered IEP meeting planning.

For the most part, they were able to evaluate their own progress. There were some students who were really hard on themselves. Those students needed redirection to focus on their progress as an individual, rather than comparing themselves to others. There were also some who immediately said they had met all of their goals, without evaluating their progress in their portfolios. These tended to be the same students who didn’t want to complete portfolio work when it was scheduled. Next year, I’d like to spend more time modeling how to evaluate progress toward a goal. I thought that the amount of evaluation we did when working on portfolios would be enough, but it really wasn’t.

Step 3: Evaluating Accommodations

Next, we moved on to evaluating how well accommodations worked and what new accommodations we should try for next year.

Student centered IEP meeting: evaluating accommodations — Student working on evaluating his accommodations (clearly keyboarding is one of them)

Here it became clear to me that even though I thought I had done a good job empowering my students to be advocates for their own learning, the students didn’t really understand their accommodations. When we went through them their response was often “teachers don’t really do that.” This, of course, may not be totally accurate, because a lot of these things happen behind the scenes. It was concerning, though, that the students weren’t always aware of what their accommodations were. I think next year at the beginning of the year, we’ll review the learning plans again so that students know what their accommodations are, and maybe have a few specific lessons on how to self-advocate.

Personal butlers are not IEP accommodations. Sorry. — This kid was really disappointed that a personal butler was not a possible accommodation.

I also (see above) should really spend a little more time discussing what accommodations are and aren’t. Wanting a personal butler notwithstanding, I was surprised that many students didn’t understand why they got specific accommodations. I expected to have to explain what was possible, but didn’t realized I would have to explain what their accommodations meant. I remember doing it earlier in the year. Maybe it’s a matter of revisiting throughout the year.

Step 4: Prepare for the Student-Centered IEP Meeting

Our last step was to prep for the meeting. Students completed an organizer where they decided how they might introduce themselves, their parents, and me, and how they would explain the purpose of the meeting. We talked about how much leadership each student was comfortable with taking, and decided on signals they could use if they needed me to take over. Then, each student took turns role playing their meeting.

I’m really excited by how confident and empowered my students seem while we’re going through this process. I really hope that they’ll feel successful when they complete their meetings and that next year they’ll take more ownership of their goals as we work on them. I’ll follow up soon with how these student centered IEP meetings went and what I’d like to do differently next year.

Have you ever done a student centered IEP meeting? What were your experiences?

Thank a Teacher

I have been privileged to have had a number of amazing teachers throughout my K-12, college, and graduate education. This week, everyone is thanking all of the stellar teachers that they’ve had.

I have quite the Thank a Teacher list (even if it’s a bit late. Being a teacher and a teacher educator can get busy)

Mrs. Yearger who believed in me, both academically and socially, and told amazing stories about learning every week in class. Who, I know now, sat down with my parents to have serious conversations about my social-emotional development and how entry into the district’s G&T program (which at the time was a high-pressure, slightly isolated program) would affect that.

Mrs. Orlowski, who taught me during the year my father passed away. She helped me navigate a difficult time in my life and helped me to navigate a balance between throwing myself into school work and actually feeling what I needed to feel.

Mrs. Bailey, who was the bright spot in an otherwise dreary and difficult transition to middle school.

Dr. Floriano, who I actually hated throughout all of middle school, but as my high school music teacher helped me to gain confidence and developed my love of singing as well as my skill.

Mr. Griffith, who fostered my love of science and my love of puns. Often simultaneously.

Mr. Robertson & Ms. Outlaw, who believed that everyone could be an artist, even kids whose fine motor skills were way behind the curve in middle school.

Mrs. Pragel, who made Course 2 math come alive, and took me out to pizza hut to celebrate my success on the Regents exam. (I’m still really proud of that 98% and it’s been almost 20 years).

Mr. Keck, who nurtured my love of literature and my capacity for argument. Who was willing to support me in every way, including sponsoring the environmental club I started with friends and helping to drive all of the cans we pulled out of the trash bins around the school to Wegmans for recycling. And who ate the vegan brownies I baked, even though they were full of tofu.

There are probably still more to list, but there are other teachers I want to thank as well. I really want to thank the teachers who were probably good teachers, but not the right teacher for me at the time. Who dealt with my odd pre-adolescent behavior throughout middle school and the snarky, artsy-but-still-sciency identity I performed through most of high school. Who probably tried to figure out why my handwriting and spelling were so terrible in elementary school. There are so many teachers there whose names I’ve forgotten, but who had a huge impact on the person I am today. So, to all the teachers I’ve had, thanks. And I really hope, someday, the kids for whom I wasn’t the teacher they needed at the time, that someday they’ll look back and know that I did the best I could too.

On “Reportese”, Teacher Comments & Saying What We Mean

So, this popped up in my Twitter feed last week:

“Kate struggles to apply herself” Code for: “she’s lazy”. What phrases do you use on reports & what do they really mean?Share @GuardianTeach

— GuardianTeach (@GuardianTeach) April 13, 201

I often see things pop up via non-teacher friends on Facebook who have school age kids that are in the vein of “what your child’s teacher says, and what she really means”. I know these things exist, but every time I see teachers engaging in them, I’m a bit shocked. As both a middle school teacher and as a teacher educator, I am fairly invested in the language we use when we talk about students and in helping others to use that language. That said, I do see how, as Kevin Bartlett calls it, “reportese” can end up feeling like a the punchline of a joke. And we really should be able to laugh at ourselves. But I still have some problems with these lists, partially because the “what the teacher really means” generally makes us sound like insensitive jerks, rather than people who care about kids and their progress.

There are reasons why in teacher comments, we try to phrase things positively:

We’re trying to focus on observable behaviors or what a student has reported and withhold judgment. It’s impossible to know what’s going on in someone else. Educators do have the training to look at a number of different sources of data and make inferences about motivation, ability, and skill in our students. But those observable behaviors are just the tip of the iceberg. I don’t want to make an inference about what’s causing a student’s behavior until I’m absolutely sure.
We know that if we talk about things in a positive manner, rather than using terms like “lazy” we’re more likely to keep a positive mindset about the student and to look for ways to help her improve. It’s my job to figure out how to teach all of the students in my class, and my job to collaborate with parents to help students improve. It’s also my job to help leverage and develop student strengths (such as being social and enjoying collaboration), as well as to help students improve in areas of weakness (knowing when it’s time to work independently).

But, in spite of our best efforts, the comments often seem jargony and designed to be unclear or vague and hide what’s really going on with the student. For example, saying that “Kate struggles to apply herself”, doesn’t give much insight into Kate’s behavior, her strengths, or her weaknesses. The reason comments like this are seen as duplicitous or or disingenuous–like, well, we really mean that Kate is lazy and are afraid we’ll get in trouble for calling it like we see it–is that they’re so vague. Is Kate completing classwork, but having difficulty following up with homework? Does she participate fully in class discussions, but doesn’t do very well when she’s asked to write about a topic independently? How can we still maintain a non-judgmental voice that talks about students in a positive way, but still be specific and realistic about a student’s accomplishments?

Write your comment to the student–not to next year’s teacher and not to the parent. One of my colleagues gave me this idea, and I’m trying to use it more in my practice. Parent communication is a big part of report writing, but it shouldn’t be our only avenue. When we write to the student (even if someone else needs to read it to them), we (or at least I) seem to shift into more understandable, honest-sounding language. This is, of course, totally different than what I ask my grad students to do (sorry, everyone–clinical language is the program standard).
Be genuine with your compliments. Find something good–improvement, positive attitude, enthusiasm, and start with it. Don’t qualify it. Just say it.
Start with observations, and then infer or question. Don’t just jump right in with the inferences about student needs or motivation. Talk about what you’re seeing in a clear and non-judgmental way, and then talk about why you think it’s happening.
Set goals and offer solutions. How will the whole team (teacher, student, and parent) work together to get the student on track? Or to help the student extend her thinking or expand his creativity?

How do you make sure you’re clearly communicating in your written reports? Do you like the idea of writing directly to the student? Or do you think reports should be directed toward parents?

Why I Teach Middle School

I took Spring Break off from writing here while I was traveling and dealing with midterm crunch-time with my grad students. I got to spend 5 great days in San Francisco with friends, and met some of their new Silcon Valley tech friends while I was out there. Everyone either had a PhD in some sort of science, or worked at a tech start-up, or both. So when I said what I do, I got a lot of:

“You teach middle school? That must be…interesting.”

“You teach middle school? God bless you.”

“You teach middle school? Why?”

It’s been nearly 10 years, I should have come up with an elevator speech by now, but I don’t have one. I generally just shrug and say something along the lines of “Middle schoolers are an odd bunch, but I like them.” There are, however, so many reasons why I teach middle school.

Why I teach midde school: They’re sophisticated enough to have serious conversations, but they aren’t jaded yet

Yes, I know, you can have sophisticated conversations with kids of any age, but middle schoolers are at a really amazing spot in their development. In that 10-14 range, their ability to think about abstract concepts is starting to expand (at widely varying rates), while at the same time they have this level of optimism that’s absolutely infectious. They still believe they can change the world. They still believe that, deep down, people are really good.

Why I teach middle school: They are the sweetest, kindest people I know

My middle schoolers know when my birthday is. They know that when I feel stressed, I like to take a time out to knit. They know my cat’s name. Of course, I, in turn know similar things about all of them. They’re just very open and caring. They also leave all sorts of interesting notes and gifts:

These are just a few. Let’s not forget all of the selfies that students have taken when I’ve left my phone on my desk, or when they bring in snacks to eat in class, but tell me not to worry because they brought “teacher food” as well–dark chocolate covered dried blueberries.

When you teach middle school you also see amazing moments of kindness between students. I’m continually amazed by the empathy and caring they show for each other. We often hear about negative interactions between students this age (and they do happen), but more often than not, I see the good.

Why I teach middle school: They are also the most ridiculous people I know

Being a middle schooler is hard. Your body and your brain are changing. Interpersonal communication gets trickier. Adults think you should act like a grownup, but your prefrontal cortex is still developing, so you do things without fully understanding the consequences or really thinking them through. Sometimes you say mean things to others. Sometimes you do what your friends are doing, even though you know it’s wrong. Often, whatever your first impulse is (for example to say “I didn’t do it” when your teacher clearly saw you do whatever it was you “didn’t do”), usually is what happens. I find talking kids through these moments and helping them build their abilities to think through problems to be one of the most interesting parts of my job. Watching them develop, grow and change throughout their time in middle school is what I love the most.

I went over 600 words, so it’s definitely not an elevator speech. I could summarize–Why I teach middle school? They continue to grow, change, and surprise me every day. And I love it. Or, more concretely, it’s just because sometimes they do something simple, like make a video explaining how to balance chemical equations, and you’re so happy about their progress, that you cry a little…

Digital Portfolios Go To Parent-Teacher Conferences

One of my goals when I started using digital portfolios in my 6th grade class was to improve communication with parents, and though I have my students email their parents every time they add an update, I’m not sure how often they look at them. Parent-teacher conferences seemed like a great time to show off the work and reflection that my students have been doing this year, and I’ve had some of the best conferences ever because of it.

Concrete Examples of Learning

Each students’ digital portfolio contains artifacts: videos, embedded Google docs, snapshots of the learning process, student-created image slideshows that show the steps in the process up to creating a final product. We try to use all the digital tools at our disposal to document the learning process. With these, we’re able to demonstrate a student’s growth and learning in ways that just weren’t possible with traditional portfolios. The portfolios contained mostly qualitative data (although some quantitative was included, like spelling assessments), so artifacts of the learning process that aren’t final, completed projects are included. For example, students have chosen to add snapshots of anchor charts in the classroom and used these as one piece of evidence that they are starting to implement a strategy, along with a snapshot of an annotated reading passage. My favorite example is a student included a video of himself attempting (and failing) to explain his process for solving a problem (complete with the student recording it in the background saying “Dude–I don’t think guess and check is a valid strategy here”), and then explaining how he can improve in his reflection. Not only did this provide parents with concrete examples of the learning process, they also provided a glimpse into their child’s self-reflection and growth. During the conferences, I was able to use these artifacts to discuss progress with parents and demonstrate student learning and growth.

Promoting a Growth Mindset for Students and Parents

When I talk to colleagues about trying to promote a growth mindset amongst their students, parental expectations are often a hurdle. By setting up our digital portfolios so they were a documentation of students’ growth and progress over time toward specific goals, I was able to communicate to parents the importance of perseverance, self-reflection, and positive self-talk in the learning process. Rather than the conversation focusing on what the student wasn’t doing, the conversation was focused on what they were doing and the progress that they had made, however incremental it might have been, toward their goals. That shift in conversation, I think, relates to the transparency that comes from the digital portfolio. Parents have access to artifacts of student learning, as well as what the students learned from the experience (in their own words). That’s a pretty powerful combination.

Overall, I think that the digital portfolios made for a better set of parent-teacher conferences this year, both because of what my students created and what parents were able to take from them.

How have you used your digital portfolios to facilitate communication with parents?

Tiny Successes

Channel R at the English language Wikipedia [GFDL, GFDL or CC-BY-SA-3.0], from Wikimedia Commons

My first teaching job was in a Catholic school for low-income girls on the Lower East Side. My boss, Connie, who was one of the co-founders the school in the early 90s (back when she was still a nun), was an amazing woman. She taught me a lot about teaching and about building relationships with students. But one of the most important things I learned from her was about success. “We’re growing olive trees, not marigolds,” she would frequently say. She said it a faculty meetings, to members of the board, to parents, to the principal as she agonized over our test scores. She said it with the same fervor and faith with which she read 1 Corinthians chapter 12 on the first day of school every year. She said it with the voice of a true believer. And she made me believe it too: That success isn’t only measured in huge leaps, in fast growth and quick, dramatic changes; it is also measured in tiny, incremental steps forward. Growth you don’t even notice or successes that are so small, you could miss them if you weren’t on the lookout. Growth that takes time, but makes something amazing, sturdy, and enduring.

I’ve had several of these moments in the past two weeks and it reminded me how important it is to celebrate the small successes, not just the large ones, and that tiny steps toward growth are just as important as big ones.

When a student stops in to ask for help on an assignment that is a perfect match for a strategy we’ve been working on for weeks and then asks for help with it–even if he’s not employing the strategy independently or hasn’t really tried to use it–that’s a success.

When a teacher who has been resistant to working with me on differentiation invites me into her classroom “just to see a bit”, that’s a success.

When a student chooses to showcase a tiny change she’s noticed in her writing in her portfolio, that’s a success.

When a student writes down his homework in his planner (even if he doesn’t get it done), that’s a success.

When a grad student who seems to have been ignoring feedback on lessons makes one small change that shows she’s starting to get it, that’s a success.

Sometimes teaching can be really overwhelming, especially when you’re teaching students who struggle. Growing olive trees is hard work. You care for them, and you try to provide the right climate and the right food, but it could be a long time before they bear fruit. When we notice the tiny successes in our students, those small, but important, steps forward, we notice our students and their efforts. When we notice those tiny steps, we’re reminded that when we acknowledge tiny successes, they can feel like huge leaps forward.

What tiny successes have you seen recently?