Um, You’re an English Teacher.
I read this article from the Washington Post on an enterprising English teacher’s quest to achieve national board certification. Now, full disclosure here: I have never once entertained the idea of NBC, mostly because of two reasons:
1. My state pays a laughable amount in recompense for NBC, and
2. It’s a giant pain in the a$$. As in an IRS audit-level pain in the a$$.
And for what? Personally, I have always viewed it as a prestige-grab, an enormously time-sucking prestige-grab. Me? I’m too busy teaching.
In any case, the article tells the story of Emmet Rosenfeld, who teaches English at Thomas Jefferson High School, one of the most prestigious and academically demanding high schools in this country. I knew from the beginning that the article was going to, ironically, tell about Rosenfeld’s failure to achieve national board certification, and I was curious about why that was. Apparently, so was Rosenfeld, since the NBC doesn’t provide particularly constructive feedback explaining why it awards its scores.
I think I know.
One of the areas Rosenfeld was asked to document for his national board certification was evidence of student accomplishment. Throughout the article, Rosenfeld discusses an extensive and clearly time-intensive project to have his students study Native Americans for the 400th anniversary of the founding of the Jamestown colony. In addition to reading N. Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain and James A. Michener’s Chesapeake, the students hand-crafted a dugout canoe out of a log. Here’s how Rosenfeld tells it:
One of those times was when we compared James Michener’s Chesapeake with N. Scott Momaday’s The Way to Rainy Mountain. These books weren’t usually a part of our humanities curriculum, but I figured kids building a Native American boat should read novels about Indians. Pulitzer-winner Momaday’s 1969 work relates the historical and mythical past of his Plains forebears, the Kiowa.
The portfolio entry I was working on at the time required me to film my students working in small groups. The day I taped, kids were discussing an assignment asking them to compare the worldviews of Michener and Momaday by creating 3-D models based on the structure of each work. (Remember, these kids are future rocket scientists.) One group of girls made a three-tiered fountain to represent the three sections of Momaday’s story, trying to show how the natural world ran through the book.
My required 11-page analysis forced me to review carefully not only what I’d done along the way, but why. “My goals were to cross disciplinary boundaries by bringing the canoe into the classroom,” I wrote, “and to challenge students to appreciate cultural diversity beyond their own community.”
On the day the projects were due, the girls brought in a beautiful fountain with water dribbling over polished rocks, writing that “Momaday has a worldview which is very focused on oral traditions and the Kiowa Indians . . . He needed to have a writing style that was less linear than a traditional Western-styled novel . . . [This] style allows him to flow through the story without having a distinct set plot or to emphasize the aspect of characters . . . In giving out his story, he cautions the reader that the medium of his book should be different — it should be spoken, as it was spoken to him.”
Ultimately, Rosenfeld explains, the projects he did with his students received this grade — a 1.0 out of 4.0 — from the National Board Certification people:
Documented Accomplishments — 1.0. The entry about the blog that had energized my teaching, and the canoe project that had in many ways defined it, earned a single point on the four-point scale. According to the scoring guide, that meant there was “little or no evidence of student achievement.”
What I’m not particularly certain he taught them was English.
As a parent, I would not be particularly pleased that my child was being instructed out of a James A. Michener novel. Mind you, I’ve enjoyed myself some Michener, but he’s not precisely what I would call a master of prose style, an innovator or shaper of the novel form, a literary influence on other authors, a master of developing character.
He writes one hell of a great airport book, though.
As a teacher, here is my bias: I want my students to learn English in an English class. This means that I wish them to learn how to read, by which I mean that they understand not only the author’s surface meaning but her or his underlying meaning, and that students understand how the author uses the tools of literature such as symbol, metaphor, and yes, structure to communicate a pointed insight about human nature and society. I want the students to understand and be able to express how this process occurs.
Most of all, I want them to be able to express that process in words.
I have to confess that I too looked on the 3-D-fountain-as-a-symbol-of-Momaday’s-structure with more than a little bit of skepticism, particularly when the portion of the student’s paper that Rosenfeld quoted, specifically this part:
“Momaday has a worldview which is very focused on oral traditions and the Kiowa Indians . . . He needed to have a writing style that was less linear than a traditional Western-styled novel . . . [This] style allows him to flow through the story without having a distinct set plot or to emphasize the aspect of characters . . .”
…really seemed to resemble this Internet source, which I got by Googling “N. Scott Momaday,” “Way to Rainy Mountain” and “style”:
“Like Stegner, but in a less “linear” fashion, Momaday uses multiple lenses and perspectives to capture a fully dimensioned picture of the Kiowa. Short paragraphs, never more than a page…move you through history, folklore, and personal biography as Momaday explores ways of looking at the Kiowa…”
I was disappointed to find this similarity between the student’s paper and the Dancing Badger review. I had hoped, in my teacher heart of hearts, that inspired by Rosenfeld’s creative approach to teaching English, the student would have come to an original conclusion gleaned from the reading of the book. Then she truly would have owned that insight; the discovery would have taught her something more valuable than any teacher’s lesson: that with one’s own mind, one can read and understand a text and come to an independent conclusion about it…by oneself. Maybe the observation was utterly original and I’m being too cynical. I’ve taught for too long not to be cynical, perhaps. I hope I’m wrong.
That said, there is a value in shaping your thought over an extended piece of writing, a value in conducting a nuanced argument, a value in close reading a worthy piece of literature whose words deserve the respect close scrutiny can grant.
There is no way that level of nuance can be expressed in a dribbling fountain.
Rosenfeld shouldn’t be condemned for trying to make his teaching interesting, nor for trying to bring students out of the classroom and really teach them something about the Native Americans. At the same time, though, I wish as a parent and a teacher that he would teach his students how to read quality literature, the kind of literature which will teach them to grapple with the questions of human existence that vex and obsess and entrance us even now, and teach them to write about it using ideas that they themselves generated and gestated and brought to life in words.
I wish Rosenfeld the best and wish him eventual success at his quest to achieve NBC. If it’s any consolation, and I mean this sincerely, he would make an absolutely fabulous homeschooler.
Finally, someone with whom I can agree on teaching English. I thought your comments about the Michener novel were very perceptive.
I’m linking to this on my blog so that my mom will read it. As she is a former English teacher, I feel certain she will enjoy this post immensely.
I find it tiring that so many English teachers do not see the inherent value AND entertainment in the literature itself.
Like Rosenfeld, many teachers think they need grandiose projects to interest kids in classic literature. Student interest is often a reflection of teaching, not assignments.
Although projects do have value and place, most students don’t need fancy projects to become interested in literature; they need a skilled teacher to guide them to find the interesting things.
My students often read books in my class they would never read on their own. They love my class and the books, and usually all we have is the story and a discussion.
Mr. W, I completely agree — and I’m surprised by what often seems to be a dislike *of the literature* by teachers OF LITERATURE. You’re right in saying that “many teachers think they need grandiose projects to interest kids in classic literature,” as if what they really do not want to deal with in any kind of depth is the literature itself. Hey, all English teachers feel the pain of grading the Really Long Paper, sure, but that’s part of what we signed on for, AFAIK.
Thanks for a thoughtful response!
I found that story really interesting. It made me reflect on my doctoral education and teaching college English. As you likely know, the humanities have taken a strongly historical and interdisciplinary turn. In general I think this is a very good thing, but reading your thoughts on how this may have played out at the secondary education level (rather than, say, at the professional research level) made me wonder about how that trickles down. Not sure what I think about that.
Then again — MICHENER?! The thought process seems so backwards: “I want to build a boat, so what books should we read?” I think a high-school English class could be legitimately historical or interdisciplinary, but would perhaps be better served by saying, “I want to read these literary texts, so what projects or primary sources could effectively accompany this study?”
Yes!! I hadn’t thought of it that way, Shaun, but you’re absolutely right: you need to “backwards-engineer” your course based around the texts, but it looks like Rosenfeld did the opposite. Yep, yep, I totally see where you’re coming from — and I agree.
Don’t know where you teach–but not having an automatic bonus attached to National Board Certification tends to weed out those who see it as an automatic pay raise for hoop-jumping, from those who perceive its inherent value: holding up your teaching to high and rigorous standards. Most people misunderstand what is involved; it is a complex process, which has “high and worthwhile” learning goals and the presentation of evidence that students have clearly and believably learned at its heart.
Candidates do not get “feedback” because there are no correct answers–only an integrated demonstration of student learning.
The assessment is standards-based. The candidate is asked to describe, in some detail, his students and their capacities (because diagnosing students’ needs accurately and articulately is one of the standards). A teacher who chose Michener as an engaging quick-read (perhaps for reluctant readers?) could say so–just as a teacher whose students were ready for better literature which could serve as an exemplar for literary elements could also say so. And never have to give up the canoe.
Hey, Nancy –
I understand the value of holding up one’s teaching to high and rigorous standards, but I strongly believe that anyone in any profession whose standards are high and rigorous (and whose results are clear and measurable) deserves one of the few rewards that this society defines as a reward: money. Many teachers are frustrated with the assumption that society need not pay us well because, like latter-day saints (but not the Mormon kind), we teach because of a Higher Calling (and therefore need no pay because we are storing up our treasure somewhere else, presumably — if not our bank accounts — Heaven).
The problem is that in our state, NBC *costs* teachers to join — in my state, there’s a basic fee to begin the process that’s something close to $3000 (I looked into it after reading Mr. Rosenfeld’s description of his experiences). In all, at least to me, there seem to be far more reasons to reject NBC as a major investment of time and money for very little reward that’s tangible. I’m sure I don’t speak for myself alone when I say that my standards for myself are high whether or not NBC measures them, and in fact, I have to wonder about this: If a teacher’s teaching gets better because s/he wants NBC’s approval (if that’s the real reward we’re talking about, if money is not the reward), then isn’t that a little sad? Shouldn’t someone’s teaching standards be high *anyway*?
And yes, I want tangible financial rewards for what I do because in this society, we view money as a just reward for one’s time, one’s education, one’s own high standards — standards that would be high whether or not there were an NBC to measure them.
I *do* understand how one would want to weed out those who want an automatic pay bump for jumping through a few hoops — God knows, every single class I’ve taken for certification renewal has been all about that (and little else), so I certainly see where you’re coming from there.
Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment.
[...] presents Um, You?re an English Teacher. posted at Lorem Ipsum, saying, “Thoughts on why a teacher did not achieve National Board [...]
A Teacher's Life Blog Carnival - March 31, 2008 | Lesson Plans said this on April 1, 2008 at 10:31 am |
I realize now many people have written anything on here for a while, however, I recently came across this blog. I was one of Mr. Rosenfeld’s students the year he had us participate in creating the “authentic” native American canoe. I must say, I agree with almost everything everyone here has said. It was my sophomore year and whenever people ask me what I did in HUM – combined history and English – all I can ever say is, “Nothing.” I would dread attending class because it was so incredibly boring. Also, Mr. Rosenfeld made it part of our grade to travel to Mt. Vernon to help construct the canoe on our own time and find our own way there. I lived an hour away from Mt. Vernon and at the time I was only 14, so obviously this mandatory assignment was inconvenient because my parents had to take me all the way out there. Another inconvenience was that my classmates and I failed to properly learn the world history curriculum that was meant to be associated with English 10. (Sidenote: although I understood what Mr. Rosenfeld was trying to accomplish by making us read about Native Americans, this type of literature is and never was part of the curriculum. Making us read them put the 50-60 students he taught at an disadvantaged compared to the other 400 students in my class at the number one school in America which also happens to be it is outrageously competitive. In any case, I just wanted to take this chance to tell you out there how I felt about Mr. Rosenfeld and his attempts to get certified: I never had the opportunity to express how negatively I felt about the assignment as a whole except with those who had the same experience as myself. I know my rant may not be all that enlightening, but I just wanted to give you all another perspective.
I was another student who participated in the “Canoe Project”, but not in Mr Rosenfeld’s class. His pair of English classes partnered with the pair of classes across the hall taught by a different teacher. I never experienced Mr Rosenfeld’s teaching of English. For those of us in Mrs Waterfall’s class, the “canoe project” was pretty much not related to the English curriculum. All the visits to Mt Vernon were voluntary (though I got some surprise extra credit after participating), and the project did not really affect the teaching of the classes (team-taught English/History) at all. However, I really learned a lot *beyond* what I normally would have in an English/History class because of the project and the extra work I did (including burning out the canoe – I am the Craig who carries the mud in the quoted article).
Our English class was never changed to fit the project, the project simply added to the class, for those who wanted it. I think this is an important difference in teaching styles – talking with my colleagues in Mr Rosenfeld’s class it seemed like the project was stifling, for me it was simply fun, and a new way to learn. Projects like this are not *needed* to teach, and certainly not a central part of the process, but they are a wonderful way to engage students in something they might not otherwise be interested in.