Barbara Read

For many years I was a substitute teacher, teaching everything from grade primary to grade twelve. Most of my experience was in elementary school so I was a little nervous about going to a grade eleven English class. The students were working on a modern play, 'Raisin In The Sun' and they hated it. They told me that it was too bad I was teaching English because that was the subject that was hated the most. I got into the background of the play and got them thinking about the issues in the black experience. The characters took on more relevance. I introduced them to Langston Hughes from whose work the play took its title. We had many lively discussions in class.

Time was running out and I felt that I should evaluate the students on the work we'd done. I assigned an easyassignment. They were to expound upon several powerful metaphors from Hughes' poem "A Dream Deferred" and explain how these metaphors reflected on the lives of the characters in the play. It was a take home test worth twenty points. The results shocked me.

Many students who had been most articulate in class wrote only a few shaky lines. Only a few students had developed their ideas. What to do? I needed a mark and the teacher was returningin several days. I confronted the class with my concerns. They were disappointed with my inability to give them points. Why had I chosen to ask for their thoughts? Why didn't I give a study test? Perhaps I should have given a multiple choice test like they were used to?

We settled on marks for rewrites. However, I addressed the problem confronting us. There was no shortage of opinion in the class .I tried to introduce them to response writing. I wrote a statement on the board. Each student was asked to respond to it on paper. They recorded their responses and we read them to each other. As we continued this way, the students got braver. Now the students handed their responses to other students for comments and questions. The responses got better and better. Students wanted to read out the real "good" ones. Friday I got the call which ended my stint.

The next year I found myself teaching grade nines. I had my focus thanks to the testing failure at high school . My goals were clear. I wanted the students to develop confidence in thinking, reading, and writing. I continue to strive for these goals. They have become my mantra.

Brenda MacIssac

I have been a teacher of English for the past 15 years. Initially I taught as I had been taught during my 12 years as a student in the school system. My assessment strategies were also similar. Basically students wrote closed-book tests for which they had to study notes in their scribblers. Although, even at this time my students did a fair amount of oral work, this was not "counted" when it came time to dispense numerical grades.

I particularly remember what seemed, at that time, to be an insignificant incident. My students had completed a unit of work on the theme of "Friendship" and were writing a pen-and-paper style test. A new student to my classroom asked, "Why do we have to memorize this stuff?" ( I had asked content style questions about the plots, settings, and themes of the stories we had previously read in class.) I'm not sure what answer I gave Shannon, but I know his question was to engender much change in my teaching practice. I wondered, "Why indeed?" and I began to take a long hard look at what I was teaching, how I was teaching and how I was assessing what the students were learning. This began a process of self-inquiry. The way I approach teaching and assessment in English Language Arts began to change as of that day and continues to do so.

Donna Burke

Accreditation in junior high was a frustrating experience. The 85% average is a necessary criteria I'm sure. But when students do everything required to the best of their ability and make an 83 average, it is considered not good enough. Yet students who do just enough will squeeze out the 85% are given their accreditation. It is difficult to watch students who maintain their own standards, not receiving their just rewards.

Peter Casagrande

I used to teach a Metal Technology course at a senior high school in the N.W.T. The welding of ferrous metals was one of topics covered. As the course progressed, I noticed that one student in particular became a very talented welder. She could weld better than everyone in the class including myself. While grading the final written exam, I was surprised to see that this same person scored the lowest grade on the welding portion of the exam. It occurred to me that this test was not evaluating what I intended it to evaluate. I was testing writing skills as opposed to welding skills. An alternative assessment strategy was definitely needed.

Sharon Shearer

An Invaluable Teaching Moment

As a new teacher to the field, low person on the totem pole so-to-speak. I was given my share of students whom other teachers had either exhausted their patience with, or felt that they didn't have the means to tap fully into the learner's potential.

One such student was a young lad, physically mature for his 13 years, sporting shoulder length hair and a countenance that radiated with disinterest. The file, that accompanied Paul, was full of anecdotes that paralleled his display of apathy. Attendance was poor, work was never done, tests always garned failing grades, his behavior was disruptive, and his tone of voice bore disrespect.

I remember the very first day, as I was familiarizing the roster's listing of names with the sea of unidentifiable faces. There sat Paul, slouched in his seat, dancing a rhythmic pencil on the table top in front of him. My heart connected instantly with the blankness of his gaze, and right there and then, I purposed to reach him.

It didn't require much inventory - taking to realize that Paul was lacking a generalized working knowledge of the skills and concepts expected for an area seven student. The standard paper and pencil approach would definitely not serve his myriad of individualized needs.

The teaching setting was that of a large, open classroom - close to 165 students, whose academic tutelage was co-shared amongst a team of four teachers. The physical structure departed from the normal layout of rows of desk and a blackboard gracing the front wall. Rather, there was tables, who's random placement found structure only as the nature of the engaging activity evolved. There were carpeted as well as tiled areas, but no doors or partitions within the class area. It was a laboratory for learning, designed by the learners for the pursuit of their own negotiated learning. A friendly rapport of trust and respect welded the teacher - student relationship. Positive ethos ruled.

Students were encouraged to work collaboratively, but the groupings were never static. They were constantly changing with regard to their size and purpose.

The course of studies was totally individualized, with the teacher's mandate being to access where the learner was his/her stage of cognitive and social development, and to shape relevant experiences that would assist in further maturation. In other words, it was a very diagnostic/prescriptive outlook.

Topics were studied through an interdisciplinary approach. The particular unit of study on this occasion, with Paul, was the primary industries of North America. After a brainstorming session, it was decided that fishing, forestry, farming and tourism were the areas our class was interested in researching further.

Charts bearing the total of each chosen category were placed in the hall. The students were free to sign up under whichever heading interested them. If none of the headings were of interest, then the onus was on the student to discuss this matter with one of the teachers.

Paul eagerly chose "fishing" for this was a hobby past time of his. As it turned out, this was designated to be the topic area in which I was to act as an enabler and a facilitator.

Within the overall fishing group, the group subdivided into smaller gatherings, each being responsible for a specific inquiry. Paul and three friends knew exactly what it was they wanted; that being to examine the various types of fishing vessels.

Although the enterprise involved many different types of reporting., Paul desired for his ultimate finished product to be that of building a boat. His keenness was unmistakable. As the teacher, it was my role to keep the whale of an idea within reasonable limits. A blueprint was scaled, measurements were taken, phone calls and interviews were made to and with local fishermen, a trip to the Pictou shipyards was arranged, lists of proposed materials were drafted up, library books (whim had never been Paul's friends) pertaining to the research were borrowed and examined, the cost was factored, etc. - all by a student who supposedly could neither read, write, nor perform mathematical calculations efficiently.

One day the school was having an in-service. The staff was assembled, like knights at the round table, in the conference room, when an enthusiastic rap came to the door. Mr. MacDougall stepped into the corridor to tend to the messenger. He stuck his head back in the door and called my name. My first reaction was one of "Oh-oh. What is wrong?"

In the silence of the hall, stood my three keen boys. They all stuttered in unison as if rehearsed. "Miss. Shearer, can we work on our project today? We brought a lunch and everything." Then Paul continued the urgent plead. "We knew there was no school today, but we couldn't wait until next Monday. We know you are busy, but we are certain that we can manage on our own."

I didn't need to trail off into a listing of mundane rules such as - no running in the halls, keep the noise down, be sure to clean up after you are through. I just winked and said, "Sure. Anyway, its you fellows who would have to teach me how to hammer a nail!" They smiled and expressions of appreciation for granting the permission were rendered.

At the end of the day, I could hardly wait to check in on how much progress the boys had made.

There they were hard at it. One was sawing, another was hammering and the third was busy sweeping up the dustings. Quietly, in the background was playing a tape recording featuring a collection of fish jigging songs left behind by another group.

This was truly a teachable moment for me on how important it is to hand over the controls to the students and allow them to become agents of their own learning. There was neither need for any grade to be issued, nor any written test to be tackled to verify that an abundance of learning had and was occurring here.

Incidentally, when the boat was completed and painted in the school colors of orange and whit, it found its place of honour on the playground to be filled with sand for the playful fun of the primary children. ... and in my scrapbook of cherished memories is a small thank-you card from a pony-tailed eighteen year old Paul, that reads "Thanks for everything." That truly says it all!