To Calm the Paralyzing Fear of Lesson Planning

I have thought of lesson planning and why it appears so difficult for so many teachers.  Aside from the obvious indications that, well, many teachers were never actually taught how to write a lesson plan, only to read and interpret them from a textbook “Teacher’s Edition,” the task can seem ominous.  I believe a logical reference to the burden of lesson planning lies within the military use of the “operations order.”  The operations order goes by several names and acronyms, i.e., operations plan, OPLAN, OPORD, five paragraph field order, etc.  It’s function is to identify an objective and explain how to accomplish it.  Consisting of five standard paragraphs it includes instructions for executing the mission.

  1. Situation
  2. Mission
  3. Execution
  4. Support
  5. Command & Control

The lesson plan is a miniature operations order.  It tells us what we want to do, how we want to do it, what resources we need to make it happen, and how much time we have to do it in.  The lesson plan gives us our objective and tells us why we are doing what’s in store.  We receive the intent of the activities, why they’re important, and, if conducted correctly, what we get out of them.  They tell us what questions to ask, when to ask them, and what you hope to gain from the answers.  They tell us how to determine whether or not we’ve been successful when it’s over.  We should look at a lesson plan like it’s an operations order.  Do a good job on this and just about everything else falls into place.

An operations order consists of five paragraphs.  Thus, unlike a lesson plan, it has a universal standard format.  The concept, when applied to a military maneuver, can encompass thousands of soldiers in a large scale mission or it can focus on a squad of eight scouts on a reconnaissance task.  For a teacher, the concept can direct the activities of 28 children in such a way that what we want them to learn becomes a deliberate venture focused on engaging students in discovery and leaving them eager for more.  An OPLAN is an amazing instrument, as is the much maligned lesson plan.

With an OPLAN the first paragraph tells us the situation.  With a quality standards-based lesson plan (SBLP) the situation refers to, first and foremost, the benchmark standard we’re going to teach.  But there’s more to it than that, of course.  The situation includes what pre-requisite skills might be needed to really learn the lesson before us.  What scaffolding skills, indirect supporting skills and knowledge, or less complex sub-tasks are involved in fully realizing the CRS, CCSS, or non-core state standard skill we are dealing with?  What is the current skill level of the students relative to the benchmark standard in question?  What supports are available such as specialized services, paraprofessional assistance, IT enhancements, etc.?  And what are the conditions under which the instruction is to take place?

Next comes the mission: who, what, when, where.  In essence, what are we trying to do?  The first paragraph, the situation, tells us why it’s important.  The first thought in preparing a SBLP ought to be the summative assessment.  Referring to the Task (benchmark standard), Condition (how to assess proficiency), Standard (assessment criteria) of the benchmark standard, we either know or can determine the problem-solving skill in question and how it is to be assessed.  Specifically, we know what we want the students to be able to do and under what conditions they will demonstrate proficiency.  This tells us where we focus our attention, where the weak spots might be (re: students), and what the metrics for success look like.  The mission is your objective.  It is short and to the point.

With paragraph three we think about what, exactly, are we going to do to get the students to proficiency and beyond.  The OPLAN will refer to this as the concept of operations.  In education we think of this much like our “learning activities.”  This is how we get from Point A (where student skill levels are now) to Point B (where we want their skill levels to be).  Whether we focus on DBQ’s (DBA, DBI, etc.), group discussions, transferring variables within or without context, or whatever, this is the method of instruction.  It will tell us what the engagement activities consist of.  It will also tell us how we plan to use the supports available.  The concept of operations will be the most deliberate and expansive of paragraphs and may involve scripting.  Like a screenplay to a movie director or like a recipe to a chef, paragraph three tells us “how.”

Paragraph three also includes our coordination/collaboration.  The indispensible coordinating instructions keep us both humble and cohesive.  For a traditionalist teacher whose professional requirements consist of a room, a class roster and a textbook, coordinating instructions are unnecessary.  For the rest of us, the instructional scheme includes other players.  We must continuously be conscious of relevance and alignment.  For an example, what has your grade level team determined to be the focus for your year group?  Are there cross-curricular projects which must be considered?  How does the benchmark skill track with regards to vertical alignment within the department?  Are specific grouping requirements in order?  Are there specific district or school directives to integrate into the lesson?  In short, we must deliberately consider the many variables of our students, our fellow teachers, and the system in which we practice.

Now for paragraph four, this is where the administrative and logistical aspects of the operation (or lesson) come into play.   In a lesson plan this will take into account various external requirements to support the lesson.  Do you change rooms?  Is there need for special supports for diverse learner populations or MTSS/RtI Level 2 and 3 students?  What about student seating?  Does the school or district require specific resources for a particular lesson?  Are certain resources restricted or unavailable which must be supplanted?  Who takes attendance?  A variety of administrative/logistical issues may be routine, but they must be considered even if they are merely referenced in the SBLP.

Paragraph five of an OPLAN refers to command and signal.  Unless your lesson includes a field trip or other out-of-classroom experience, this part of the OPLAN/SBLP is cursory.  However, if an out-of-classroom experience is part of the objective, even if it’s just a trip to the school library or media center (and even for just a few students), this paragraph may be most important.  A substitute or “cover” teacher will undoubtedly find this information handy in case of crisis or just a matter of quandary.  Basically, it includes who does what to whom and how to get ahold of them.

So, there it is.  What goes into a standards-based lesson plan is pretty cut and dried.  It is ostensibly no different from an OPLAN.  Unfortunately for those of us short on time, it includes a whole lot of information we may not have consciously thought about previously.  But for the children to get the most out of any lesson, there must be thoughtful preparation on the part of the teacher.  And I will grant you that a good many teachers are on top of the situation.  But it should be obvious by now that “Review Chapter 16,” as Day 4 of your Week 27 Lesson Plan just won’t pass muster anymore.

Student Engagement vs Student Discipline

With all the talk of classroom management, we seem to have made (or are making) a statement which reflects arrogant self-aggrandizement. The statement goes something like this: if students were more disciplined and civil, I could instruct my class so that more students could learn what I have to teach them. This idea is, by and large, hogwash. By putting the onus of a disciplined and respectful classroom primarily on the backs of the students, we deemphasize the need for quality, engaging instruction.

Having completed a second year of observing teacher instructional practice using the Charlotte Danielson-based REACH Students frameworks, a glaring, but intuitive, phenomenon has emerged. Teachers with student-centered, standards-based lessons invariably have high marks for student engagement. When teachers with high marks for student engagement (REACH 3c) are compared with their student discipline (REACH 2d) rating, the ratings are similar. Likewise, teachers with low marks for student engagement have low marks for student discipline. Middle or so-so marks for engagement seem to have little bearing on discipline. It could be good; it could be bad.

Altogether too many educators want to blame students for disruptive, impolite and disrespectful behavior. An entire sub-culture within education has developed an industry focused solely on how to create a positive learning environment – from the student discipline perspective. I’ve been to some of these professional development seminars. They’re based primarily on creating and reinforcing positive structures and public affirmation of good behavior. In reality it attempts to promote behavior that is merely not “bad.” They try to help teachers envision a classroom focused on civil obedience. “If we can get the children to sit still, behave themselves and pay attention, we can teach them something of importance which they may come to appreciate one day.”

It has become increasingly difficult for me to accept the absurdity of such a notion. These educators have conveniently left out the most important elements of quality instruction and put the kids at fault. Never mind that there are, in fact, ill-tempered children in our fold. But ask yourself a couple simple questions. Why are some kids great students with some teachers and thugs with others? Why are some teachers burning up the Dean of Students’ phone with student misconduct while other teachers barely know his name? Again, accounting for the occasional, continuously ill-tempered child, with some teachers the students respect the environment and come to class to learn. With some teachers the students arrive to class prepared for conflict. And these students are rarely disappointed.

The solution to classroom conflict appears less and less to do with behavior protocols, expectations and interventions, although these structures are absolutely necessary ingredients. The solution appears to be well-planned, student-centered lessons which optimize student learning. Planning and ultimately executing rigorous and relevant standards-based learning activities trump a hundred structured protocols, expectations and interventions. Students know when they’re being pandered to. Neither the well-behaved, academic minded students nor the socially inept, unmotivated students appreciate poorly designed, irrelevant instructional drivel.

What do I see in classrooms with poor student behavior? I see independent reading packets wherein students are asked to complete the pre-fab questions at the end. I see teachers presenting lectures wherein students are told to take good notes (a la Cornell notes, etc.?). I see teachers reviewing outlines of key information, often requiring students to put them in their notebooks to study for the test. I see students being made to copy key vocabulary, write the definition, and use the term in a sentence. I see writing assignments whose only criteria for grading is quantity of words, sentences or paragraphs “covering” (mentioning in whatever application) a list of nouns. I see the mindless dumping of unit content with no real purpose for the children – content whose only relevance to the students is that it will be on the test, whatever that might entail.

All of the above examples are fairly easy for a teacher to pull together. At the same time, however, this is all pretty boring for the students. The students need useful instruction. The mindlessness of too many classes is evident in the amount of student misconduct, suspensions and ultimate dropouts. Surveys of students who’ve dropped out of school more often than not identify sheer boredom as a major cause of leaving school. While they are undergoing the social and emotional upheaval of adolescence, we are boring them to death. It’s no wonder they can’t sit still.

On the other hand, I’ve seen otherwise problem children totally engrossed in math talk. Why? Because they’re challenged at a level they can access and understand, yet they have to think about what they’re doing and saying. I’ve seen the all-to-often restlessly disengaged upperclassmen seriously attuned to discussions of, well, discourse. Why? Because they can relate to a topic of meaningful social policy that requires evidence of their position, yet that which they present must have meaning beyond a personal opinion or a teacher’s interpretation. When students learn new skills or advance current skills to new levels, they are like putty in the hands of a skillful teacher.

But these types of lessons require planning. They are not easy – at any level. They require the teacher to know his/her students, to know their individual capacities for learning particular skills, to know student academic performance data. They must design lessons that take advantage of cognitive proximal development theory in a way that students can access conceptual understanding and apply it to new processes of content manipulation. Teachers must shed the cloak of intellectual superiority and challenge students to demonstrate skills in which they, the teachers, are challenged themselves.

When teachers are not afraid of being outed by a student, students will rise to the occasion. It’s a glorious thing. In such situations behavior issues of any sort are, for the most part, non-existent.

The Educators’ Guide to Skills-Based Learning and Assessment Curriculum – 6: Crawl, Walk, Run

SBLAC 6: Crawl, Walk, Run

“Crawl, walk, run” is a training philosophy which tells us that before we can achieve proficiency we must develop and move through the new skill slowly. We must practice the new skill on a regular basis while gradually picking up the pace. Eventually we will be able to trot off into the sunset with the new skill mastered and then we are able to join others who have also mastered the skill. When we join the others we can be competitive if appropriate or we can become a valuable member of a team carrying an appropriate share of the burden, whatever that may be. But before we run, we should crawl through the steps to ensure we have them down pat; and we should practice our new skills. We should periodically review the steps once we’ve been walking a while and acknowledge them every so often even once we’ve begun to run.

The concept of getting from A to E without going through B, C, and D every time takes into account the “crawl, walk, run” philosophy with A to B to C to D to E as the crawling phase. The walking phase is, perhaps, A to C to E. Getting from A to E without going through B, C, and D is definitely running. But while this explanation implies that B, C and D are unnecessary when running, this is not the case. When running, B, C, and D go by so fast that they are simply no longer conscious thoughts. Consider the Theory of Relativity.

We can look at A, B, C, D, and E as steps or tasks needed to solve a problem (problem-solving) or to make a decision (decision-making) or to answer a question on a high-stakes standardized assessment (question-answering). Regardless of the application, A is almost always the same, “What is being asked?” A is about identifying the task at hand. A is the first thing. As Dr. Stephen Covey told us, “Put first things first.” One should not start working on a problem and then after some familiarization period with the dilemma ask oneself, “What am I doing?” Well, no. One needs to know before one begins the work what he/she is doing. “What is the problem I’m trying to solve?” “What decision am I making?” In the case of grade school students, “What is the high-stakes standardized assessment question asking?” We call it step A because it is the first letter of the alphabet. Put first things first.

Of course many students have a hard time landing safely on A. This whole discussion about A, B, C and whatever is pointless if a student cannot lock up A. Of particular difficulty for 9th graders (and 10th graders and 11th graders, etc.) are story problems. When a math problem is disguised as a passage which requires reading about four or five sentences, figuring out the task at hand can be a truly daunting experience. A combination of simple addition and subtraction problems woven into a vignette about Jamal’s new checking account can send kids reeling into the ozone. I have seen students working in groups unable to solve Jamal’s addition and subtraction problem because they could not figure out what was being asked. Just getting to A is sometimes a triumph in and of itself.

B is next. But Dr. Covey never said anything about putting second things second. B is necessary for crawling. Depending on the challenge, it could be necessary for walking as well. But one thing is for certain: if a person’s journey goes through B, this person is definitely not running. B identifies the skill which must be brought to bear. Once I know what is being asked (i.e., A), I must determine the action to take on my part (specifically, B in this case). As mentioned, this is a pivotal phase of problem-solving, decision-making, and question-answering. If a person does not consciously know what he/she is doing once he/she has ascertained the question, that person needs to cease work. If this person has completed A but does not know what to do about it, now is the time to rummage through the ol’ tool kit for some skills. B is the key.

If I asked, “Solve for n; 2 + 2 = n,” most of us can go from A to E pretty quickly. We know the answer is n = 4 simply by looking at the equation. There is no need for us to stop at B to determine that we have to use the skill of adding integers or whole numbers. We just do it. We run through the simple addition of two integers. However, if asked, “Solve for y; 13 (√49 / y7) x 8(exponent-0) = 169 / (18 – x) when x = 5,” we might give pause. A math teacher will perhaps run through this equation like a world-class sprinter responding that y = 1 much quicker than he/she can explain the seven or eight (simple) steps required to solve the problem. Others may need to remember a few steps or a rule or two and consciously pull them out of cold storage. To solve this equation we must subtract, divide (a couple times), multiply (a couple times) and calculate a square root (fun with radicals and exponents). We also need to know some basic symbology but that’s about it.

This meaningless equation could show up on a test for no other purpose than to determine if a child can perform a series of menial tasks. This is mostly arithmetic but it demonstrates the need for students to understand the question and identify the skills(s) which must be brought to bear. Which tool(s) must he/she pull from the tool kit? This is the value of B and it applies to all disciplines.

B can also stand for Brick Wall. Often, because we are experts in the subjects we teach and B is so intuitive to us as we move through our benchmarks, we lose sight of the conscious challenge our students face attempting to assimilate new skills. We must try to avoid judging a student’s motivation when he/she is not “getting it.” Imagine the myriad new skills and knowledge floating around inside a high school student’s head when he/she has seven different classes every day each vying for priority. As we attempt to hand a child a 2500-piece Craftsman® multi-purpose set of tools, we have to be cognizant of what actually fits into each high school student’s tool kit. This is particularly important to keep in mind when we consider that most ninth graders don’t even know they have a tool kit (and this may explain why they’re always asking to borrow your tools). It is also why we must be consciously selective of the benchmarks we ask them to master. Asking too much will disappoint us and frustrate them. And while we must not ask too little of them, building intellectual capacity cannot occur simply by introducing a plethora of new skills.

The value of the metacognitive activity within the brain lies in the brain’s capacity to create shortcuts to decision-making via a metacognitive transition. I’ve been told that synaptic contact of neural dendrites with other neurons informs the soma of a mental event. Whether this event has any meaning to the student is entirely relative to the student consciously knowing that the event occurred and has meaning. Yes, metacognition requires thinking. But once it becomes a conscious thought, it means that potentially the student will no longer have to sort through myriad processes to arrive at a given solution. A student can set up his/her own mental road network. As disturbing as this is to traditional math teachers, once a student “gets it,” he shouldn’t be required to go through B just to prove he knows what he is doing. This would be disrespectful of the student’s intelligence and contrary to the cognitive process (see James P. Byrnes, 2008; Cognitive Development and Learning in Instructional Contexts, Allyn and Bacon; Chapter 10).

An example of metacognition in practice is similar to a chess player as he/she develops mastery. Suppose a chess player recognizes that his/her opponent has begun to implement a Sicilian defense. The chess player’s offensive strategy has immediately adapted to the ramifications once he/she acknowledges the opponent begin the setup. Adapting to the strategy and creating a shortcut to decision-making, the chess player has gone from A to E. He/she 1) knows and recognizes the opponent’s moves, 2) understands the connotations, and 3) responds in a premeditated manner. At once, the result is an automatic shift that is metacognitive in nature. Why can a chess master play 20 or more games simultaneously, winning every one without so much as a pregnant pause much less a comeback move? A chess master’s brain does not have to sort through all possible scenarios to determine a course of action. Decision-making is as efficient as a simple survey of the board. It is the same reason that an expert math teacher can breeze through a 75-minute, standards-based algebra assessment in little more than the time it takes to read the questions.

But the concrete operational Third Grade Brain is unable to circumvent the process. Incapable of moving directly from A to E, most of our students must necessarily go from A to B, from B to C, from C to D, and from D to E. We must teach them how to move more quickly. We must show them how to pick up the pace while at the same time acknowledging when they have mastered a step and no longer have to crawl through it every time. Crawling through life will not get them very far.

Unfortunately, the average high school teacher has even more to consider while contemplating the synaptic responses in a child’s brain. Students pick up interesting problem-solving processes throughout childhood which may not be readily explainable. While crawling through a newly introduced skill, teachers invariably discover that some of the students have internalized a completely different route from A to E. The initial reaction is to “correct” a student’s wrong-headed approach in favor of the “school solution.” Teachers want students to perform tasks just the way they’ve been taught to perform them (which is often how the teacher learned them). Whether through arrogance or a misplaced concern for proper procedure, some teachers may want to absolutely require students to get from A to E using B, C, and D. But if a student can get from A to E (with E being the skill mastery) by using G instead of B, C, and D, that should be acceptable. E is E. We have too many additional, more complex skills to work on without teachers demanding that students adhere to an individual teacher’s thought processes. If a child can solve problems using that skill, move on.

The Educators’ Guide to Skills-based Learning and Assessment Curriculum – 1: Introduction to the skills-based learning and assessment curriculum

SBLAC 1. Introduction to the Skills-based Learning and Assessment Curriculum

The following discourse was originally offered as a guidance for high school. The principles herein likely have much wider application. The purpose is to first explain the concept of the standards-based curriculum and to then propose a way to work it. But although the original purpose of the document, itself, was to help explain the metaphor of “walking the dog” as it applies to curriculum, it is specifically relevant regarding the standards-based curriculum. And confusing though this may seem already, “walking the dog” has a lot to do with classroom instruction and curriculum selection has a lot to do with how that dog is walked.

We shall begin with a few basic assumptions which make this whole “walking the dog” thing necessary in the first place. First of all, the vast majority of secondary teachers are taught subject matter expertise and instructional principles as they relate to classroom presentation. Lesson planning and curriculum development are tools with which to formalize the process of imparting topical information to an adolescent audience. The material which makes up the topical information is the course content. When the course content forms the basis of the curriculum, be it math, science, or any department designation, the resultant curriculum is necessarily a content-based curriculum. A content-based curriculum is not a standards-based curriculum.

Secondly, good teaching is an art. But teaching is only as good as the learning it produces. No one who fails a third or more of his or her students (except in perhaps an extreme case or two) can really claim to be a good teacher. Regardless of our desire to blame the student, the family, the system, society, or our insistence that we not “lower our standards,” the harsh facts of good teaching lie in the capacity of the students on the classroom roster to learn. There is a tendency to use the argument that teachers at select enrollment schools are only “good” because the students at select enrollment schools are smarter, brighter, or more highly motivated. At the same time a good teacher at an urban neighborhood school has much less to work with and teachers there should not be measured by the same yardstick. But this, too, is relative. Anyone who truly believes that “all students can learn” must also believe that teaching them is possible. However, understand that it will take a “good” teacher.

Classroom instruction, like walking the dog, is a very personal thing. Anyone who has ever walked a dog understands that while many dogs like routine in their walk, sometimes they like a little variety. Anyone who has ever walked a dog also understands that when we have all day we can take the dog for a long and leisurely walk, but when we are in a hurry, we need to get the job done and move on. Sometimes it’s sunny and warm; sometimes it’s rainy and cold. But the dog must be walked. If not, well, things happen that we needn’t go into. High school students, while not comparing them to dogs, like routine. But they also like variety. Sometimes the curriculum and school schedule allow a leisurely stroll through interesting or complicated content. Sometimes we must move through the material quickly due to pacing requirements and/or school schedules. Sometimes students behave and do as they’re told. Sometimes they are overcome with emotional stress and act as the hormonal adolescent thespians they are, or worse. Thus, whatever the curricular plan for the day, classroom instruction cannot be dictated.

To explain the metaphor we must first be aware of the concept behind it. For any expert (of course, levels of expertise notwithstanding) being micromanaged can be a most frustrating experience. Being told how to do something for which a person has been trained can lead to animosity and resentment, particularly if the person has been doing it for awhile. Assuming that teachers are certified we can be assured that teachers know the basics of teaching. But knowing the basics is a nominal place to start. This is most evident when querying educators about what to teach and how it is structured. When someone is highly skilled in a task and is told by an authority figure how to perform a task as if the task was new, irritation sets in. It’s as if the skilled expert is being condescended upon by a person who is not the one performing the task. A common urge is to tell the authority figure, “Don’t tell me how to walk a dog.” So as we begin this discourse we shall not condescend by explaining basics of classroom instruction. On the contrary, we are discussing the parameters within which we perform our task. This is about what to teach and how it is developed.

My final comment before delving into the structure of the skills-based learning and assessment curriculum refers to the vocabulary of standards-based instruction. Much the same way Dr. Willard Daggett’s Rigor and Relevance Framework has been misinterpreted, misrepresented, and re-defined, the standards-based curriculum, as a haggard cliché, has been misused, misunderstood, and often deliberately abused so as to sell an initiative, a textbook or a PD course. Therefore, for the purposes of this guide, I have renamed our standards-based curriculum. We shall call it Skills-based Learning and Assessment Curriculum (SBLAC).