The year commenced with immense focus on our school's need to meet our state's Annual Yearly Progress (AYP) goal. The goal is met - or not - by way of a test given in reading and math every spring. (5th graders and up must also take a Science test.) Directly related to the AYP challenge was my early discovery that close to half of my class of new third graders were reading at levels that ranged from kindergarten to mid-first or second grade. A personal philosophy that spurns teaching to any test let alone the high-stakes ones that currently dominate public education meant that I was immediately cast in a recurring dramatic tension. While not mutually exclusive, meeting my students' instructional need to become good readers and teaching them what might lead to success on the state test more often than not clashes with the realities of 21st century classroom life.
As usual I turn to those in the field I've come to admire and respect for support in attuning my practice to meet these challenges. Marzano, Thomlinson, Burns, Fountas, Pinell, etc., etc. These educator/researchers are my "go to" team for affirmation, confirmation, and inspiration in my instructional practice. As I write this, a stack of books by these thinkers balances precariously on the counter next to the lap top and across my bed.
Clearly, the class profile of my students presented above makes differentiation of instruction a "no brainer". Differentiation - preparing and instructing lessons that reflect learners' current skills and abilities in terms of content, amount, interest -- is the linchpin upon which my instructional goals hinge. But, as differentiation diva Carol Ann Thomlinson points out, there's a vast difference from believing in, understanding, and preparing for differentiated instruction and actually executing it effectively. Not only do I need to differentiate but it must occur in two content/skill areas, How do I do that? Were do I begin? What should a class schedule and planning look like? How can I efficiently but effectively map a course of instructional action that won't take the remainder of my limited "free" time? How do I grow two more pairs of hands and an additional brain?
One of the greatest challenges for me has been keeping my mental acuity sharp enough to keep all the pieces of differentiation flowing. This is a particular challenge given the wide divergence of my learners' skills and the lack of human resources available to support the vision I've developed. As I type this I'm awash -- again -- in questions about where I should begin. This quandary, in turn, set off my reflections on how much attention is given to the Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD) of educators. If we take seriously the notion that educators are really life long learners then Vygotsky's concept of learners needing to be instructed from the point where what they already know is sharpened by just enough challenging new information to build new knowledge should be no less applicable to teachers.
What is my educator ZPD? I'm really intrigued by the reflective and meta-cognitive resonance of the question. At once I'm called on to considered what I value, what I think I already know, and to consider what I think I need to learn to be a better educator. I'm also drawn to the praxis implications -- how to turn theory into practice.
Contemplation of just what my own instructional practice ZPD is has sent me scurrying to fine- tune my understanding of both Guided Reading and Differentiated Instruction and the role of assessment in each. (Thus the stacks of books everywhere!) At a very practical level, I'm back to the drawing board to sort out how I can provide much more word work, independent reading time and small group/1-to1 coaching, and tech-based supports more often during an already cramped school week. I know it can't all be done but how to I choose?
Further, this week I learned my students' clear enthusiasm for working in teams to prepare performances of readers' theater pieces suggests that more team work activities would greatly benefit them not only academically but as a social learning community as well. Add to that the need to identify and prepare meaningful, differentiated homework assignments, grade assignments, post grades, and prepare classroom assessments while we administer yet another battery of system-mandated assessments and I feel more ready to explode than vent.
Luckily, I work with a group of wonderful, talented, committed educators with whom I laugh more than vent and whose love of the children with whom we work is fairly palpable. I give thanks for their supports and friendship throughout the year and wish for continued blessings for them. The same for the marvelous little people to keep me loving, feeling and thinking and thus, keep me truly alive and present to the goodness that is in the world.
