Teaching Programming

We started the programming unit yesterday.

This year I'm switching from Perl to Python. I'm also hugely overhauling my teaching style. I was convinced by Vern Ceder (and various other sources, I'm sure) to get to graphics as fast as possible and skip the endless pedantic slog between here and there. In nearly all of the books I have used as resources, graphics are late, late, late. I decided to take a page out of the media computation book (not literally, but mostly only because I don't have a copy), introduce graphics as fast as I can and do lots of Just In Time teaching to backfill what students need as they care about it.

I want to mention my incredible gratitude and luck at the support I've received. Vern's presentation at NECC 2007 was transformative in my thinking about this unit. Getting to participate in the Chapman University workshop about teaching Python gave me the basics of the language. And most amazing, I have been meeting with Guido van Rossum regularly this fall and winter. He has reviewed my code, explained concepts without demeaning my lack of knowledge, and regularly reminded me what beginning programmers are like when I waver about presenting the material in this unusual, out-of-order way. He might be the nicest super-geek I've ever met, though Tom Zeller is right up there.

Day one went great! I started the students out in IDLE in interactive mode. We walked through print statements with strings and then numbers. It was great - the kids let right to the places I wanted to go, like learning about a syntax error when

2x2

didn't work the way they thought it should and testing what happens when you put math into quotes. I introduced variables super-quickly - in the past, variables would have taken an entire period, this time it was almost an aside, as a way to do math. Similarly, I introduced for loops and the range() function in about 3 minutes because I was up against the end of the period. The kids followed pretty well. I stopped to check the comprehension level several times and while it was slightly overwhelming, they were fitting it together pretty well. One thing that went very well was that I'd grabbed a few photocopies of their math textbook so I could show them how to use Python to program some of the problems they would face later that day in class. The whole concept of working collaboratively with other teachers is the subject of another post, but I was very happy at drawing the connection.

There were a bunch of things that went really well. It was very interactive, the kids were engaged, and they were typing right along with me. I think they really got that you can (and should) create hypotheses and test them right away. "What if you do blah?" "Let's try it" "Oh, cool!" They had terrific ideas and were able to figure things out really fast.

There were a few things that were, um, sub-optimal. For one, I had planned WAY more than I could reasonably teach in one period and didn't cut myself off fast enough - I was too excited about the connection to math. I would have liked to have given the students a small homework assignment to write a program and didn't have time to do so. I'm okay with it since not having homework makes the students happy and I'd like them to think programming is fun. Yeah, not optimal, but I'm looking for the silver lining.

Second, the Just In Time teaching requires the teacher to be flexible and able to quickly analyze situations to figure out what is going on and what is worth covering. Some of the time that worked well - on the fly I decided not to cover modulus and the sqrt() function in the math module. Some of the time it didn't work well. Their math problem was to determine five values of x that would make 2x-6>=3 true. I showed them how to do it but then was preparing to segue them out of interactive mode and into script mode since it had to happen 5 times. (This was also where loops came in, even though it meant skipping conditionals!) In one class, a student suggested just programming y=2*x-6>=3 and then iteratively changing x and re-evaluating y. Which, of course, didn't work right, but on my feet I couldn't remember that it was because y had been set by what the formula evaluated to in that moment. Duh. It wasn't horrible, but I should have known better.

Tomorrow I will show them two longer programs - one that is a "guess a number" game (binary search!) and one that generates Shakespearean insults. Then they'll be on their own to write a little program. So exciting!

Everybody Knows That

I'm taking a workshop this week about how to teach Python. There are pros and cons to the workshop. Although I have what feels like a number of complaints, on the whole the workshop is good.

The course is giving me a lot of empathy for my students. I didn't understand what the goals of the workshop were or how exactly it was going to run and spent a lot of time yesterday trying to figure out what was going on and what to do. I also felt a certain amount of boredom. It was really hard to sit and focus on reading and programming all day. The little programming exercises were good introductions to the concepts, but they weren't terribly engaging.

I spend a lot of time feeling frustrated and stupid. Even though this is an introduction to Python, there's an assumption that everyone has programmed before, often in multiple languages. I think I'm the only Perl person in the room. My knowledge of Java is introductory and I don't know any other languages. I absolutely trust my ability to learn new things, but statements like "if you think of how to do this in Ada, it will be obvious" are upsetting. Lectures and discussions are in a different language. This morning's lecture was about functions. I knew some of the jargon, like arguments, parameters, and returns. But I had a terrible introduction (previously) to pointers and references, so the whole part of this morning's lecture about how Python passes arguments was significantly over my head.

I read a few weeks ago that a person can read fluently as long as they know 95% of the words - they can pick up 5% through context clues. More than that requires significant time and mental energy for decoding. So this morning's lecture was probably 20% words and concepts that I wasn't already familiar with. Too much to fluently understand, and of course, in speaking, once it is gone, it's gone.

The other part that is frustrating about not understanding is whether it is even important or not. I teach middle school. I strongly believe that I am an expert about how to best teach my kids. But I am not The Expert about what the Most Important concepts in computer science are. Is it crucial to teach students about pointers, stacks, passing by reference vs passing by... whatever the alternative is? If I were teaching driver's ed, is this comparable to teaching kids how to get on the highway (and thus by not teaching it, I limit them to surface streets unless they take a more advanced course later) or is it analogous to teaching them how to change the spark plugs - interesting, useful, required for advanced work, but not actually important on a day-to-day basis in running a car. (Remember, I live in California. We spend a LOT of time on the highway.)

The frustration is about the phrase "oh, everybody knows that!" It makes the part of the everybody who doesn't know that feel bad. I know my students will face it... I think it is inevitable, though it shouldn't be. It isn't just the jerk boys, it is prevalent. I want to remember to hold on to this feeling, so that instead of trying to teach them the things that everybody knows (impossible) I can teach them to persevere when they feel this way (possible).

Small Classes and Eye Rolling

There's a hot debate at my school about what connotes small classes. We have about 20 kids per class which I think is fairly small, but turns out not to be small enough to be really proud of "small class size." (I know lots of public school teachers are all rolling their eyes. But we definitely have some public schools around here that have classes of 20, so it doesn't really set us far apart.)

We do have lower teaching requirements than many other schools - I only teach about 85 students at a time.

The thing I love most about not having thousands of students is the opportunity to get to know each kid well. And of course, they have more of an opportunity to get to know me too. I approach my classroom the same way as I approach any presentation, which is with a heavy dose of humiliation and a sense of humor. This is why two moments from yesterday made me laugh.

I was teaching a class about gears, because we're doing robotics. I don't have enough motors for every group to have as many as they'd like, so for the first time I decided to have them learn explicitly about gears so they will be more prepared to build moving robots with fewer motors than wheels. (They're all girls. Most of them haven't spent a lot of time considering how automobiles and other wheeled vehicles work.) Here's the thing: I don't actually know anything about gears. I mean, I can figure it out, but I am not a physicist or an engineer. Why I didn't ask the engineering teacher for help before class is why I approach class with humility.

First class: I'm explaining about gear ratio. It is going pretty well. I'm pointing out the prior knowledge, like "ratios." I show a 16-tooth gear and a 24-tooth gear and explain the ratio and the torque/speed issues. I say, "you can simplify 16:24." Then I realize that while they probably can, I can't. At least not in the moment, in front of the class. Which shows on my face, and I acknowledge. In front of E. Who went to the math contest last week and by far topped everyone else at our school. Who rolls her eyes. Which, if it were any other kid, I would totally put the smackdown on for that kind of disrespect. Here's the thing: E never rolls her eyes. She never speaks out of turn. I am so proud of her! (Also, she's particularly close to me so I'm pretty sure she'd never do it with anyone else.) (Also, I told both her parents when I saw each of them later in the day. They've been concerned because she is very quiet and seems fairly compliant, so they were as pleased as I am. Just wait till she starts doing it more often!)

Second class: I've actually got it that you can simplify 16:24 to 2:3 and I've checked in with the engineering teacher to make sure that I do understand the torque/speed issues the effects of gearing up/down. I'm ready. Whereupon I develop aphasia (a word I never forget, even when it is happening) and can't think of what the things on the outside of the gear are called. So I start the lecture by explaining that gears have pointy out things on the outside. The class asks, "pointy out things?" I turn around to the loudest of them (who I also adore) and accuse, "what would you call them?" "Spikes." "Oh. FINE then." (Yes, that was me with the 'tude. There's a reason my students are not demure and completely respectful and it works for me.) Of course, as the class starts teasing her about "besting the teacher" I look down at the handout I've given them and realize that all the different gears are labeled, "8-tooth gear," "16-tooth gear," etc.

Best semester ever

This has been the best kick-off to seventh grade computer science ever. (I nearly started this post with "finally something has gone RIGHT".) I think it is a combination of factors, but in six years of teaching seventh grade CS, I've truly never had a year go this well ever.

One factor is that for the first time ever, I made a huge effort to jump immediately into CS content. First, I spent almost no time on class norms. I handed out a list of my expectations, pointed out that it is nearly the same as last year, when most of the students had me, and suggested pretty bluntly that since the students are in seventh grade, I assume they know how to behave in a class. I told them the major difference between me and other teachers is that I want them to ask me before they leave the room. I told them my two major rules, which are "no death" and "respect." I also told them there would be a quiz soon about the expectations, so they should look over them. Then we hopped directly into robotics.

* A note. "no death" and "respect" pretty much cover every situation I've come up against and manage to hit a number of my pet peeves as well. The kids are expected to respect me, each other, themselves, and the physical plant. No one is allowed to die or cause the death of anyone or anything else. Anyone behaving in a way that is likely to lead to the breakage of these rules is reprimanded. The example I give them is that they may not tip back in their chairs. This is because there's a high likelihood that they'll fall, crack their heads on the floor, and die. Ergo, not allowed per the "no death" rule. It also works out because my standard response to potential alarm (such as people tripping on cords) is, "don't die."

I have moved my robotics curriculum to be moreteacher-driven over time, but I've discovered that there's a good middle ground. The fastest way to get the students to know the things I want them to know is to guide them directly through discovering them, but they definitely get charged by more time exploring on their own. I almost went too far and had a very frustrating day racing around solving problems. I ended up putting together some handouts with guided activities and letting the kids just go on their own for a couple of days. They're so thrilled with what they're doing! Tomorrow I'll stop and bring them back together so I can make sure they all understand what is going on (I did collect the handouts but won't have time to assess them before tomorrow - possibly the biggest frustration in being overcommitted.)

I haven't figured out what to do for the first project. I'm torn between stealing an idea from another teacher of having the robots follow a course or whether to do the 'dancing robot' idea that I've done before. Either way I'll have to teach them gearing and how to deal with motors tomorrow. A little stressful - I'm not an engineer and am pretty weak on the hardware stuff. But we'll muddle through and at the rate they're going, they'll teach me everything I need to know.

Accreditation

I am quite proud of myself, for today I officially said no to a request. As time goes by, I have been invited to participate in some really fascinating projects. When I'm interested in something, it is hard for me to decline to participate. This particular request was to participate in an accreditation visit to a school. Accreditation visits are fun, intense, exhausting, and interesting. Many people don't know about the accreditation process.

Accreditation through WASC, the Western Association of Schools and Colleges, is an intense but straightforward process. It is a self-study for the school - there's an outline to follow, but essentially the school takes a long, hard look at itself to determine its strengths and weaknesses, especially in light of the mission. The school body writes up a very long document outlining who they are. Then a small team of people from other schools - 3 or 4 - come in for a multi-day visit to determine if the document is accurate. They observe classes, meet members of the community including the school board, teachers, students, and often parents. The team writes a response and sends it and a recommendation for a term of accreditation to the governing body who makes the final decision.

The most interesting thing to me about the process is that accreditation isn't about whether you're a "good" school. It is really about whether you do what you say. The example I give is snake charming (which came from an online discussion where a friend of mine accused my school of being a Wacky Ass Snake Charming school.) If you are a snake charming school, your mission is to teach children to charm snakes, and what you do is teach children to charm snakes, then you can probably be accredited. If your mission is to teach children to charm snakes and instead you teach children to raise hippos, then you will probably not be accredited. Obviously, there's some hyperbole there. But the visiting team has to work pretty hard to keep their own biases out of it - it doesn't matter if you teach the "right" English or Math, as long as you actually teach what you say you do. If you represent yourself to potential families accurately and they choose you, then all's well. If you lie, then there's a problem.

I find the whole idea very comforting. There's something about the idea that it doesn't matter who you are as long as you are completely yourself that is very freeing.

Bad Year

I've been out of school the last couple of days due to a family emergency that came up on Thanksgiving. The emergency is, if not resolved, at least not an emergency anymore, for which I am thankful.

I started ruminating on this year. There's no question at all that this has been a terrible year for me - far too much to do, not able to do anything well, stressful and frustrating. But I was thinking about the effect on my students and on their (and their parents) perception of me.

I have a huge amount of respect and affection for my students. Even when they make me crazy, I think they're funny and smart and fun. I can't imagine anything I would rather do than work with middle school girls. I feel like my students respect and like me too. Even this year, I think the kids are having fun and learning stuff.

I wonder what the students and families think about my year. It is clear that not all of them understand what has been happening, though some certainly do. I hope that they are patient - that I have built enough of a reputation as a decent teacher that even the families who don't know me will hear that this is just an off year. Or that I'm managing to hold it together well enough in the classroom (when I'm there!!) that the students and families are satisfied that they're getting a decent education. Mostly I hope that next year is better! If a bunch of things come together perfectly (HA!) then things could be better starting in January, but you can guess how optimistic I am about THAT.

New course

My short course starts tomorrow. I don't feel ready. I'm *not* ready, but I'm not unready in the ways I feel. Let me explain.

I am actually unready in the sense that I have no yet made the handouts for the first day. That will happen sometime later today and I'll go in to work to print them. It won't take long - I know what I want on them and mostly it is just screenshots. I also have to set up the student accounts so they can save, unless I want to just ignore it and throw a fit when it doesn't work tomorrow. Depending on how busy I get, that'll decide my reaction! (Unfortunately, my principal noticed this morning that I haven't submitted an entire class full of grades. They were officially due Wednesday, though I had an extension, but not really this long of an extension. I haven't done the assessment that will allow me to write the grades... Today could be long.)

I feel unready in the sense of not having totally sorted out how to introduce each thing, when to do what... I will continue mulling in my head right up until the moment I walk into class. I'm pretty sure I will start with a role play, but I might dive right into getting them to tell stories. Tomorrow will be light on the computer, the other days will be much heavier.

I will also feel more comfortable when I've gone through the tutorial again in preparation for the students to do same. There's a strong chance my laptop hard drive is dying, so that's a little stressful. Fortunately I have ways to work around it, including borrowing another one.