Minds on Science Gazette

The Case. Michael A. Miller, who grew up in an upper middle class community in upstate New York and graduated (cum laude) from the State University of New York at Buffalo, accepted a teaching position with the Los Angeles Unified School District. He was assigned to Orange High School, with has an enrollment of over 3000 students---approximately 1500 Hispanics, 1000 Blacks, 450 Asians, and about 300 other students.

Miller reports his experience teaching with nontraditional activities:

"It wasn't until I had been teaching for a few months that I fully understood the odd smile that appeared on the faces of other teachers when I told them of my class assignment: in addition to two periods of biology, I would be teaching three life science classes. Life science appears to be the dumping grounds for non-college bound, nonacademic, potential dropouts. Now I realize that the smile meant, "Poor, naive, innocent soul --- like a lamb to the slaughter and he doesn't even know it."

My descent from innocence was swift and brutal. I was given a temporary roll sheet, assigned a room---actually three different rooms---and with little other preparation was thrust into the world of teaching....I launched into my lessons.

One of the first units I covered was the metric system.....I assumed that this unit would be a brief review for the students. Little did I suspect that, not only did the students have no knowledge of the metric system, they were also ignorant of measuring using the standard English system.

In order to teach this unit, I planned to conduct a brief lecture on metric prefixes and then have a laboratory exercise in which the students measured various objects and converted from one measurement unit to another. I typed up lab sheets explaining in detail what should be measured and in what units I wanted the measurements. The students were then assigned to lab tables, paired off, and provided with meter sticks. What next ensued can only be described as Pandemonium.

My intention had been to visit with each group of students and answer any questions that they might have....The first group I visited with was made up of four girls. They were having a grand time chatting about local current events and had given up the lab as a futile exercise. It just wasn't possible to measure heights with a meter stick, since they were all taller than the stick. Unable to argue with such logic, I proceeded to the next lab group.

I arrived just in time to witness the finishing touches that a student was adding to his self-inspired metric project. He had beautifully carved his gang symbol into the meter stick with an eight inch knife he had been carrying. He also asked me if, perchance, I would like to buy some "ludes" from him. I declined his offer, asked him to put away the knife, complimented him on his artwork, and proceeded to the third group.

At this lab table,two young men were having a dispute over a question on the lab handout which directed them to provide the width of their little finger in both centimeters and millimeters. They couldn't decide whether this measurement should be the long or short dimension of a finger. Peter was strongly emphasizing his point of view with well-placed punches on David's arm and chest region. I managed to separate them and clarify the meaning of the lab question. As I left them to visit with group number four, I overheard David say to Peter, "This side of the stick is meters," to which Peter replied, "No it isn't. That's the inches side." Two or three dull thuds punctuated Peter's response.

At table four, one student, who had just been released from jail the day before, was sharing with his lab partners the economics lesson he learned while incarcerated. Mercifully, the bell rang. "Well," I sighed hopefully to myself, "Only four more periods to go!"

This was just one of many labs conducted during my first year of teaching that didn't go quite as planned. Although none were as disastrous as the metric lab, each was as much an experiment for myself as it was for the students. Often, I half wished that I had taken my student up on his offer and purchased a healthy supply of central nervous system depressants. As they say, even the best laid plans sometimes go awry.

Now I am in my second year of teaching...

The Problem: Do you think Michael had too-high expectations for his students in doing lab activities? If you had watched this lab activity, what specific suggestions would you make to Michael to change the lesson in order to eliminate the "Pandemonium?"

The Case. David Brown is an undergraduate student and has been granted permission to student teach in the high school he graduated from because it is the type of school he in which he would like to teach. David's school, however was located 200 miles from the university. His college supervisor, Dr. Ahrens, associate professor of biology, was not enthused about having to drive the distance to supervise him. Ahrens was under pressure to to conduct research and publish the results, and he was having difficulty finding the time to do so. Furthermore, some of his younger colleagues were already full professors, and were receiving federal grants for their research.

David was accepted with open arms at his "old" high school, and the department head assigned Bob Smith, one of David's favorite high school teachers, as his cooperating teacher. On his first biweekly visit to supervise David, Dr. Ahrens saw performance unlike anything he had witnessed in fifteen years of supervising student teachers. The lesson topic focused on trees. David at gotten up at daybreak and gone into a wooded area to collect leaves. But what Dr. Ahrens saw was much more than a leaf collection. David had brought tree limbs---dozens of them---and the classroom looked like an aboretum.

Dr. Ahrens entered through the door at the back of the room and quietly sat down. As usual, he prepared to take notes and complete an assessment form, and he quickly became surprised by David's activities that he forgot to complete the form. David was running from one part of the room, to another, and then another, taking limbs and small trees with leaves and giving them to students to examine. First he had the students taste the sassafras leaves. Some comments about root beer were heard. Then David took a double handful of sweet-shrubs and crushed them. As he walked down each row of students letting every student smell them, the students "oohed" and "aahed." Next David gave each student a leaf from a cherry tree. He asked them to break the leaves in half and sniff them to see who could tell him the type of tree these leaves came from. Some said that they smelled like a milkshake. Others said the smell reminded them of the chocolate-covered cherry candy that they get at Christmas. After a wisecrack guess that it was a Christmas tree, someone screamed, "cherry."

Next, David had some yellow roots. He asked the student to take a small hair of the root and taste it. They were as bitter as quinine. Students gasped in exaggerated disapproval of the bitter taste; some ran to the door and spat outside. By the end of the period every student was grappling with a piece of sugar cane, twisting it and swallowing the sweet juice.

When the bell rang the students applauded and commented about the lesson. Some said that this is the way school ought to be---fun. David was pleased that the students received the lesson so well.

Dr. Ahrens realized that he had become so engaged with observing the activities and so bewildered and upset at having seen something that didn't even resemble a lesson that he failed to complete the rating instrument and was, therefore, unprepared for the assessment conference that was to follow. Nevertheless, he felt he must give David some badly needed feedback, however general. He would spare no words for this young maverick.

Dr. Ahren's first step toward resolving this perceived disaster was to meet with Mr. Bob Smith, David's cooperating teacher. After sharing a few brief pleasantries he fired the following questions at Mr. Smith.

"What do you think about this lesson?"

"The kids were really excited over it."

"Would you say that this was typical of David's lessons?"

"Yes, he always gets the students fired up."

"Do you think the lesson was well structured, well planned?"

"He obviously kept things moving at a good pace, and he didn't run out of material."

"Does David usually give you a well-prepared lesson plan when he teaches?"

"David has the type of personality that enables him to move through the lesson well without a written plan. I think lesson plans are good if you need them, but they can handicap a natural teacher. David knows that as long as his lessons work, I really don't insist on seeing a written lesson plan," Bob Smith stated.

From this brief conversation Dr. Ahrens concluded that he would get little help from this lackadaisical teacher. In fact, he assumed Mr. Smith was influencing David negatively by providing a loose, unstructured role model. Clearly, it was time to talk to David.

Dr. Ahrens began the session by asking David what he thought he was doing. He continued, "I drove two hundred miles to watch you teach, and instead you provided a circus. My job is to help you raise the achievement scores in this class. From our prestudent teaching seminar you learned that effective teachers give clear goals, hold high expectations, use direct instruction, and closely supervise all assignments. Instead of following this instructional model, you arranged for a disorganized, student-centered picnic, complete with refreshments. I am very disappointed. I will have to record these activities and place the report in your permanent records."

David was shocked. What could he do to salvage his student-teaching grade and his teaching career?

The Problem: Put your self in David's place. What would you do?