Excerpts from an incisive, unpublished point-by-point letter of refutation of an informal observation report by a teacher dear to my heart.
This unpublished letter was received by fellow-ette in a late night transaction. It sums up a lot of the frustration many new teachers express. Whoever this myserious Mr. X is, heredity must favor his literary genes!
"Dear Ms. XXXX [Dean at a bronx middle school],
I have received your informal observation. I want to thank you for taking the time to explain to me minute by minute, student by student, and lesson component by lesson component why my teaching on the day of February 1st was so utterly incompetent. I would like to respond to each of your criticisms (in fact, your entire letter was comprised of nothing else, since not one word of it was positive, encouraging or even neutral).
You state that there was no Aim on the board. That is correct. You walked in 30 minutes after the lesson had begun. In the interest of space (math problems, alas, require ample room on the blackboard) I had erased the aim and Do now 15 minutes into class, long after every student should have finished copying them,
...
I don’t know what you mean by “behavior intervention.” Did you want me to have one on one meetings with poorly behaved students during class. I have no doubt that had I done so, your observation would have included a statement along the lines of “ met with one student while ignoring the rest of the class.”
...
As to a system of checking the work: Perhaps you failed to notice my going around to each student and looking at their work to see if it was right and to help them if it wasn’t. Perhaps you failed to hear me directing questions to the class as a whole and eliciting reponses to assess their understanding. I’m not sure what you want from me: did you expect a quiz or a test at the end of the period to assess understanding? And given the fast approaching state test, I don’t have time for extensive assessment. I have been told to move rapidly from topic to topic, hoping that as many students “get it” as possible, and that is what I am doing. In the future, rather than talking about “behavior management intervention” and “system for checking student work” I would ask they you be more specific in describing what exactly you’re looking for.
...
You complain about Stacy leaving his seat to seek help from another student. I fail to see the problem. Collaborative work is a key component of the workshop model. Although I spent a good deal of time helping Stacy during the class, I am glad he had the wherewithal to seek help from other students when I was busy. If his tablemates couldn’t assist him, then I applaud his decision to seek assistance elsewhere.
You complain that a student could not be heard while reading the extended response. Clearly then, you recognize the auditory (not auditary, as you have been know to mistakenly claim) impediments to having a full group discussion/ share at times. I don’t see how I can be faulted for trying to discuss a problem and not being able to because my students were too noisy.
My lesson plan contained a do now, an aim, the topic to be covered in the mini lesson, class work, and homework. I admit it was not lacking in brevity, and I will attempt to make my lesson plans more voluminous in the future.
...
You claim that it was “disheartening” to be in my class. Sometimes, its disheartening for me too. I care so much about these kids, and I have so much to offer them, and sometimes the noise, lack of focus, and yes, my inability or disinclination to impose my authority over them, gets in the way of my helping them achieve what I know they’re capable of. Often, it pushes me to the brink. But I don’t want to let my kids down and I believe I am the best chance they have for a good math education so I always come back and give them my best. And then I get a letter like this. How do you think that made me feel? To be thoroughly scourged and not have one positive thing said to me? Do you think it makes me want to be a better teacher? Or do you think it has a disheartening effect on me?
...
In my own defense. I love my kids, and I believe they love me. When I’m absent, they always see me the next day and say they missed me, that class was horrible without me. When another teacher does AIS or subs for them, they always come back and say “he doesn’t teach like you Mr. XXX, he doesn’t it break it down the way you do.” I may not control them, but I respect them immensely and help them whenever I can. I encourage you to watch me walk down the hall or walk into class and assess how my students feel about me. I have been given an impossible task: to get kids with emotional and behavioral issues who are years behind in math ready for a rigorous state test in mathematics. I’m doing the best I can, but your harsh criticism serves no purpose.
As to your assistance. I believe you summed it up best when, in making plans with me to visit the new teacher you spoke of , you said “we have to go, because otherwise they’ll say I’m not helping you, and I’ll get in trouble.” This is clearly your attitude, cover your own ass, and do the bare minimum so you won’t “get in trouble”. I’m sorry, but taking me to see one literacy class and showing me typed lesson plans were inadequate forms of assistance.
I want to point out that if you put half as much energy into your job as you put into this informal observation letter, the eighth grade would not be in such awful shape and our school would not be on the verge of closing down. "
Sincerely,
Mr. X [Teacher at same Bronx middle school]
fellow-ette's note:
this letter has not actually been sent yet
"Dear Ms. XXXX [Dean at a bronx middle school],
I have received your informal observation. I want to thank you for taking the time to explain to me minute by minute, student by student, and lesson component by lesson component why my teaching on the day of February 1st was so utterly incompetent. I would like to respond to each of your criticisms (in fact, your entire letter was comprised of nothing else, since not one word of it was positive, encouraging or even neutral).
You state that there was no Aim on the board. That is correct. You walked in 30 minutes after the lesson had begun. In the interest of space (math problems, alas, require ample room on the blackboard) I had erased the aim and Do now 15 minutes into class, long after every student should have finished copying them,
...
I don’t know what you mean by “behavior intervention.” Did you want me to have one on one meetings with poorly behaved students during class. I have no doubt that had I done so, your observation would have included a statement along the lines of “ met with one student while ignoring the rest of the class.”
...
As to a system of checking the work: Perhaps you failed to notice my going around to each student and looking at their work to see if it was right and to help them if it wasn’t. Perhaps you failed to hear me directing questions to the class as a whole and eliciting reponses to assess their understanding. I’m not sure what you want from me: did you expect a quiz or a test at the end of the period to assess understanding? And given the fast approaching state test, I don’t have time for extensive assessment. I have been told to move rapidly from topic to topic, hoping that as many students “get it” as possible, and that is what I am doing. In the future, rather than talking about “behavior management intervention” and “system for checking student work” I would ask they you be more specific in describing what exactly you’re looking for.
...
You complain about Stacy leaving his seat to seek help from another student. I fail to see the problem. Collaborative work is a key component of the workshop model. Although I spent a good deal of time helping Stacy during the class, I am glad he had the wherewithal to seek help from other students when I was busy. If his tablemates couldn’t assist him, then I applaud his decision to seek assistance elsewhere.
You complain that a student could not be heard while reading the extended response. Clearly then, you recognize the auditory (not auditary, as you have been know to mistakenly claim) impediments to having a full group discussion/ share at times. I don’t see how I can be faulted for trying to discuss a problem and not being able to because my students were too noisy.
My lesson plan contained a do now, an aim, the topic to be covered in the mini lesson, class work, and homework. I admit it was not lacking in brevity, and I will attempt to make my lesson plans more voluminous in the future.
...
You claim that it was “disheartening” to be in my class. Sometimes, its disheartening for me too. I care so much about these kids, and I have so much to offer them, and sometimes the noise, lack of focus, and yes, my inability or disinclination to impose my authority over them, gets in the way of my helping them achieve what I know they’re capable of. Often, it pushes me to the brink. But I don’t want to let my kids down and I believe I am the best chance they have for a good math education so I always come back and give them my best. And then I get a letter like this. How do you think that made me feel? To be thoroughly scourged and not have one positive thing said to me? Do you think it makes me want to be a better teacher? Or do you think it has a disheartening effect on me?
...
In my own defense. I love my kids, and I believe they love me. When I’m absent, they always see me the next day and say they missed me, that class was horrible without me. When another teacher does AIS or subs for them, they always come back and say “he doesn’t teach like you Mr. XXX, he doesn’t it break it down the way you do.” I may not control them, but I respect them immensely and help them whenever I can. I encourage you to watch me walk down the hall or walk into class and assess how my students feel about me. I have been given an impossible task: to get kids with emotional and behavioral issues who are years behind in math ready for a rigorous state test in mathematics. I’m doing the best I can, but your harsh criticism serves no purpose.
As to your assistance. I believe you summed it up best when, in making plans with me to visit the new teacher you spoke of , you said “we have to go, because otherwise they’ll say I’m not helping you, and I’ll get in trouble.” This is clearly your attitude, cover your own ass, and do the bare minimum so you won’t “get in trouble”. I’m sorry, but taking me to see one literacy class and showing me typed lesson plans were inadequate forms of assistance.
I want to point out that if you put half as much energy into your job as you put into this informal observation letter, the eighth grade would not be in such awful shape and our school would not be on the verge of closing down. "
Sincerely,
Mr. X [Teacher at same Bronx middle school]
fellow-ette's note:
this letter has not actually been sent yet
Labels: Teaching from the trenches
posted by SarahMarian at 6:53 PM
4 Comments:
Wow. I love this blog - and this amazing guest appearance (good for you, Mr X!)- and the passion so evident in all of it. Should be required reading for all school administrators.
I can't wait to read the book-length version! Jonathan Kozol, Frank McCourt, watch out - there's a new kid in town...
Mr. X should send his letter. The incompetence of the observer must get the attention it deserves.
Wow. The letter needs to get sent.
Hmm... I think that when the year is up, and my experience is safely snuggled up in the past tense, I can make it more obvious than it is who I, and my anonymous contributor are. But until then, I think it's important to protect the identity of Mr. X, who is already incredibly outspoken and fearless for a first-year teacher.
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