# Tag Archives: high school

## On Curriculum: What Doesn’t Work

For some reason I feel compelled to write about teaching even though I just quit teaching. Quit? Yes, I resigned from my job this year and am taking a break from teaching high school math. Why did I do it? Honestly, I don’t think I can adequately articulate it, and I don’t owe anyone an explanation, but quite simply, I needed a break. I have a sneaking suspicion that I shall return to teaching again some day (probably sooner than I realize), but in the meantime, I’ve been pursuing some of my other passions and working on acquiring some new skills.

I’m still very interested in being part of the conversation on teaching high school math, and I still use Twitter every day to keep up with it. In fact, I have so much to say on the topic that I figured I might as well blog about it. I hope that blogging will be cathartic for me, helpful to other teachers out there, and helpful for me if/when I return to teaching.

So that was quite an introduction to a post in which I wanted to talk about curriculum.

I’m inspired to write about curriculum because the school where I taught had such a horrible, out-dated curriculum, and it was a huge burden for me. I’m pretty sure the curriculum pre-dated my own high school years, so I was shocked that I was required to teach it to my students. It was the most rote, procedural, and repetitive mathematics that I have ever come across. It made me think of the Cold War era, which I actually don’t really know anything about as I was born after that time, but if I could imagine it, I imagine different countries putting their young people in little school factories to see who could solve equations by hand the fastest.

Such was the imagery in my head because the entire curriculum at my school was built around solving equations algebraically. Here is the procedure for solving quadratic equations. Here is the procedure for solving exponential equations. Here is the procedure for solving trigonometric equations. And so on. Naturally, this led to an incredibly teacher-centered classroom. For each lesson, there were pages of notes that the teacher talked about. Then the teacher did some examples. Then the students were supposed to mimic the teacher exactly on a worksheet of 25 identical problems. It was brutal. I felt so sorry for… everyone involved.

Now, I don’t mean to say that we shouldn’t teach solving equations. The concept of what it means to solve an equation is a fundamental part of mathematics. During my first year of teaching I quickly realized the lack of conceptual understanding my students had as a result of our pathetic curriculum. Our assessments would be filled with equations to solve, but not a single student could answer the questions: What does it mean to solve an equation? What does it mean if a number is a solution to an equation?

When I discovered this discrepancy, I just felt terrible. Why were we making students do something that they didn’t understand? Hey kids, memorize exactly what the teacher did, regurgitate it on an exam, and then do it again. There’s no need to understand it. Heck, you can get an A+ grade without actually understanding anything. I quickly realized that no genuine learning was happening. It was sad.

My last two years of teaching I incorporated the two italicized questions from above into the first non-review unit almost every day. (Yikes, don’t get me started on how our curriculum wasted the first unit of every year on “review”.) Last year, I finally had more students answer the first one with something along the lines of “find the values that make the equation true” than students who said “IDK” or “get the answer”.

Besides a lack of understanding, our curriculum lacked efficiency and modern technology. Before becoming a teacher, I was first and foremost a mathematician, and I assure you that no mathematician was solving by hand some of the equations we made our students solve by hand. Mathematicians use technology. If I were to come across an equation that I knew I could solve by hand, but that would take me more than 60 seconds, I would turn to my computer or pick up my Iphone and use Wolfram or Desmos to find the solutions and then carry on from there. I don’t waste my precious time doing a rote procedure when a computer can do it so much faster. I spend my time on bigger and better, more important and more relevant mathematical ideas. Our students should be doing likewise.

Again, I’m not saying that students shouldn’t know how to solve equations or that mathematics is purely conceptual. However, telling students to memorize a specific procedure isn’t that important or that useful. Rather, let students explore equations, find methods that work for them, and develop fluency. As they do this, they will acquire and practice important mathematical skills such as: manipulate equations, model with equations, create different representations of equations, and solve equations efficiently.

Finally, this type of curriculum is also very boring. Be silent. Watch teacher. Work in isolation. No creativity. No thinking. No discussion. There is a complete lack of genuine student engagement. Those poor kids. It’s no surprise that so many dislike math/school. And poor teachers! Our curricula can set us up for failure or, at least, prevent us from seeing the successes our classrooms are capable of.

Wow, am I still complaining about my old curriculum? It appears so. I guess I had to get something off my chest. I should probably stop complaining and maybe write a post called On Curriculum, Part Two: Making it Better. Although I could probably write a whole book on that topic. Now there’s an idea…

Filed under curriculum

## End of 3rd Quarter

Hi everyone.

It’s the end of 3rd quarter, and we’ve got a grading day. Actually half-day. So I thought I should blog since I got the time! No kids! It’s some sort of miracle. I’m fortunate at my school to have a prep period and a department planning period… but during my prep, I can expect to supervise 8 to 10 up-to-no-good-but-so-lovable seniors. Up-to-no-good is definitely putting a positive spin on it. During my plan period, I can expect to supervise two or three accelerated freshmen for whom school comes easy and are mostly bored with it, and two or three sophomores who care, but need me to give them 1-1 tutoring in Geometry.

In short, having some time to myself in my classroom is some sort of miracle. It never happens. Now if only I had something interesting and substantial to blog about.

The kids are the best part of the job though. Forget grading, planning, and prepping. I do what I do because I believe in those little punks. They’re beautiful, lovely, funny, and smart. They deserve the best.

OK, here’s something worth blogging about. I just taught right triangle trigonometry to my Geometry kiddos. I love introducing trig. This year it conveniently followed a similarity unit, so I introduced it with a quick lab measuring sides of triangles and computing SOHCAHTOA ratios. Huh, weird, for any 30 degree angle in a right triangle, the ratio of the opposite side and the hypotenuse is the same. Huh, weird. (Similar triangles, anyone?)

Then we do some boring, but straightforward practice. Then the next class we go on a field trip. I love to advertise this next bit as a field trip, even though we only go down two floors to the Commons.

I start by having them estimate the height of the ceiling in the Commons (we regularly do Estimation180 in Geometry). Then I have them take out their telly-phones and download a free clinometer app. The only issue is the kids who say, “but I don’t have any room on my phone”. Maybe if you deleted some of those dang selfies, kid.

I crappily, but enthusiastically, model what they’re supposed to do. (My teaching career is a work in progress, OK? Year two is better than year one, at least.) I pass out the awesome, giant tape measures that the math department owns. We disperse down to the Commons. Chaos ensues, naturally, but we’re on a field trip in math class, so it’s a good thing. Tape measures are being stretched out, kids are pointing their phones at the ceiling, and most kids are sketching a triangle and writing down some sort of trigonometric equation. It’s my favorite day of the year.

Eventually we return to the classroom. My least-focused kid (one of those with an ADHD star next to his name in Infinite Campus) happily sits down and gets to work solving trig equations. How could he not? I just let him run around the Commons for 10 minutes.

They’re beautiful creatures, ya feel?

8.4 trig lab

8.5 trig invest how high is ceiling (I think this was adapted from something from Tina Cardone @ drawingonmath ??? Not sure. But I definitely stand on the shoulders of giants. Thank you all.)

Filed under fun, Geometry, grading, trig

## Fun with Expected Value

I just taught expected value in FST and really enjoyed it. The two main tasks I used were: The Carnival Candy Game and Dan Meyer’s Money Duck.

The Carnival Candy Game

You’re at a carnival and you get to pick one piece of candy from a bag. The color candy you draw determines how much money you win. I used starbursts, and I set it up like so:

The students didn’t win money; rather they won that many starbursts. (I had a different bag of starbursts for prize winnings because I made sure that the candy drawn was replaced each time to keep the probabilities the same for everyone.)

This was enjoyable because naturally all the kids wanted to pick the purple one. Not surprisingly, most picked pink, yellow, or red, but I have 45 FST students (two classes), and the 44th student did pick the purple one.

Then I asked them to calculate the expected value for their prize winnings when playing this game.

Then I said, suppose it costs \$5 to play this game. What does that mean for the player? What does it mean for the carnival game host?

Money Duck

Love the Money Duck. The students were very engaged by the idea of the money duck. I basically followed Dan Anderson’s lesson plan for this one. Like Dan’s students, and as I commented on his post, my students also wanted to determine the possible/impossible distributions based on what they saw in the video instead of in theory. I slightly fixed that in my second class by stopping the video after the first \$1 money duck, explaining that the video was made up, and stressing that we were interested in what is possible, not necessarily what the company actually does.

Like Dan, I had my students come up with company names, probabilities, and price. They then had to compute expected value and their profit. I also compiled the data in a spreadsheet, but didn’t really do anything with it, unfortunately. If I did it again I would like to have the students do some more sharing and comparing between groups.

And then things got even better. Today was the grand opening of a new Cabela’s nearby my school, so several of my male seniors told me how they all skipped class this morning (well, some of them probably had open campus 1st period… I hope) to get in line at the new store because the first 500 customers received a gift card up to \$500. One of them said, “But Ms. Cummins, they didn’t tell us how many were for \$500″. It turned out that they all got \$10 gift cards except for one who got a \$25. It was perfect. I told them I was going to write a test question about that.

Filed under FST / Algebra 2, fun, probability

## A cold day, followed by a beautiful display of student initiative

Yesterday we had a cold day! It’s like a snow day, except it’s really cold out. With wind chill, temperatures around here were -35 F. The timing was good because somehow I ended up being really sick yesterday. So I didn’t particularly enjoy myself on my day off (in fact, I felt terrible), but thankfully I could nap by the fire, drink tea, and spend the day recuperating.

Anyway, I wanted to post about a proud moment from my FST class today. These kids are used to a lot of hand-holding and spoon-feeding, and many of them rarely do independent work (unless I really hound them). Most days, I’ll hear this from at least one FST student: “I’ll be honest, Ms. C, I’m not gonna do this.”

These kids are mostly seniors who’ve been placed in “lower track” math classes their whole life, so changing their mindset isn’t easy. But they did elect to take 4 years of math in high school, plus they’re all good kids, so I know it’s worth it to keep trying.

Today, I told them I would walk them through one example of each type of problem (unit circle stuff), but that was it. No more.

A few kids said, “Aw, can’t you keep going.”

“Nope. I said that was all I was going to do as a class.”

Here is where one kid said, “We can keep doing them as a class, I’ll just go up there.” And he did.

The awesome thing was this kid didn’t know how to solve the problems. But he was willing to go up there and try to figure it out. It probably helped that he’s in the drama club and is an anchor on the school announcements.

So he starts to play the role of the teacher. “Ok, so let’s do problem 2: 495 degrees. We need to find an equivalent rotation between 0 and 360 degrees. How do we do that?”

Miraculously, the rest of the kids played along.

“It’s 45 degrees.” “No, it’s 135 degrees.” “How’d you get that?”

The 135 degree kid explains his thinking, the kid at the board follows along, agrees, and writes down 135.

I quickly snap out of my state of shock and try to remember good techniques for facilitating student discussions.

So I ask, “S, could you please repeat how you got 135?”

So he does.

“Thank you. Can someone summarize or rephrase what S just said?”

Someone does.

And, oh man, it was beautiful. Students were participating without any prodding from me. I managed to remember to ask good questions (Who can rephrase that? Who did it differently?) and to occasionally ask for a collective pause to let something sink in for everyone before moving on. Most importantly, I remembered not to interrupt too much.

1 Comment

Filed under classroom management, collaboration, culture, FST / Algebra 2

## Motivating 1/x

We’re deep in a functions unit in FST (year two of a decelerated Algebra 2 course), and I love it. I love the concept of a relationship that takes inputs and produces outputs. I love visualizing functions with graphs. I love that functions feel natural and intuitive. I’m trying hard to share this enthusiasm with my students. They’re doing well with it so far, and it’s interesting to see how they think about functions.

Last class, I wanted to introduce f(x) = 1/x. I love this function. I love the discussions about division by zero and division by really large numbers and how the graph represents those ideas visually. My colleague shared a fun investigation with me, and I am so glad that I tried it out. At first I was hesitant because I know that I don’t explain directions well, but I focused on being very explicit and modelling each step. The kids investigated the breaking point of spaghetti. I wish I had some photos, but the students placed a dry spaghetti noodle over the edge of the table and hung a paper cup on the end of the noodle and added pennies one by one until the noodle snapped. The fun factor was definitely there- the kids enjoyed predicting when it would snap and liked watching the pennies crash to the floor.

Besides being fun, the activity modelled the function effectively. The kids recorded their data (length of spaghetti vs number of pennies), and I used Desmos to display some class data.

Voilà, a hyperbola. The investigation gave the kids a good understanding of how the function behaves and why the graph looks the way it does. In retrospect, I should have done more of a “Noticing and Wondering” activity with the graph, but instead I just asked some questions like “What happened as the length of the spaghetti got longer?” and “What happened if the length of the spaghetti was really small?” which probably did too much of the thinking for them, but oh well.

Filed under FST / Algebra 2, fun, graphing, group work

## Teaching Polynomial Long Division

I confess: I think polynomial long division is kind of a waste of time. It’s a tedious process that doesn’t really involve much mathematical understanding. And when you use synthetic division, there’s even less understanding involved. So I say just skip it.

Unfortunately for me, my school’s current FST (2nd half of Alg 2) curriculum includes polynomial long division. The reason is so that we can factor and solve equations like y = 9x^3 – 31x -10 …but I’m not entirely convinced that that’s very useful either. Math class needs to move behind problems that wolfram alpha can solve for us in 3 seconds.

Anyway.

So back to teaching polynomial long division. It actually went well. I really emphasized CCSS Standard for Mathematical Practice #3: Make sense of problems and persevere in solving them. I told my FST kids that there are problems in math (and in life) that are long and challenging and that require stamina and perseverance. For example, these long division problems will test your mathematical stamina, but stick with it and don’t give up.

So many of them took that as a challenge. They wanted to prove that they could stick with the problem all the way through. It was lovely. So maybe there is something to be said about polynomial long division after all.

It was also great when I told them to use zero placeholders for “missing” terms (like 0x^2 in my example above) because right after I said that I forgot to use a placeholder in my example, so then it became completely clear why placeholders are useful when terms weren’t lining up. Yay for making mistakes.

Filed under FST / Algebra 2

## Making Corrections is Valuable

I love, love, love having the kids make corrections on quizlets (formative assessments) and tests (summative assessments). It requires them to actually look at my feedback and to maybe even learn from their mistakes.

For corrections on the last test in FST, I also had the kids write down one thing they’re proud of or one thing they thought they really learned. I got some great responses back, and I hope it helped remind them of what they did well rather than just focusing on mistakes, so I’m glad I had them do that.

Sample responses:

“I did really well on my factoring. I was worried about it and it went better than I thought. Happy about it.”

“I did well on the quadratic formula.”

“I liked Part 1 because I didn’t get any points off, and I did good with my negatives.”

“Last year I feel like I didn’t get a single quadratic problem correct. I feel like I understand them a lot better this year.”

“Factoring went well and I really have cemented the material in my brain.”

“I learned how to graph equations and find the x-intercepts.”

“I think I really mastered the factoring aspect of this unit.”

“I showed my work.”

“I slowed down this test!”

“Overall, I did OK.”

“I did well at taking my time and going through my work.”

“Test was easy but J. did better than me, so I’m salty. I’m over it. Otherwise, test went pretty well. What really helped was coming in and reviewing with you. Thanks, Ms. Cummins.”

Sometimes these kids drive me crazy, but sometimes they can be thoughtful and serious and make me proud.