Posts Tagged ‘student teaching’
I hestitated including sample questions just in case students happened upon this site, but I sucked it up and got over it. As per request, here are three representative questions from the harder parts of my Bill of Rights test.
Assume justices on the Supreme Court determined that Americans possess a right to privacy. Which Amendment could not have implied that right?
According to the precise wording of the Eighth Amendment, which of the following actions is prohibited to government agents?
a. Forcing self-incrimination.
b. Torture of potential terrorists.
c. Every type of execution ever.
d. Cruel and unusual punishment.
Soldiers enter your home to stay the night without permission of its owner. They find a gun that is illegal to own under federal law. Which amendment’s protections would not be debated?
That’s what I’m talking about.
These questions require students to piece together what they know about all amendments in question, and then go through the process of elimination.
Keeping with common practice, all the questions are complete sentences, and all answers are generally about the same length.
Your test was too hard.
No, it wasn’t.
The average percentage was failing.
No, it wasn’t.
Confused readers: Let’s do the math. There were 30 multiple-choice questions on this test, each worth two points. The maximum possible score, obviously — he said wryly — is 50 points. Think about it. She saw that most students scored between 14 and 21, and kept 30 as the denominator rather than 25.
To her credit, my master teacher had not heard about my scoring, and had applied her favored conclusion to the issue of test difficutly: Another Student Teacher Mistake.
The 50 points will later be combined with their grades from their two essay questions — 25 points each — to create a psychologically ideal 100-point test.
It was too hard.
No, it wasn’t.
Sure, the questions are hard, but on purpose. Sure, many were just barely beyond the grasp of most of our students. On purpose.
The highest score in either class on the multiple choice was a 24 correct out of 30, and that was from a pretty bright student, and exactly as planned.
Perfect scores mean that it’s possible that the test was too easy, and that, for at least one student, the test did not require thinking. Thinking, by design, is difficult. It is often frustrating. Getting students to think is my goal. Therefore, I would be remiss if I did not make all students think: especially the highest achievers.
Easy tests bore the smart students, lower the depth and breadth of preparation among the middle students and panders to the lowest achievers.
I told my master teacher, when I knew how to phrase it, that I would assess the test results, and I would make adjustments as necessary. That is, I would score the test as intended, which would appear to her as last-minute changes.
Make adjustments as necessary. I like it.
She then abruptly turned and went back to work, as if her intervention had goaded me into this decision. She gets like this frequently, and I’ve learned to deal with it. Generally, I like to delude myself into believing that I know what I’m doing.
This tightly cropped and messed-a-little-with picture, courtesy of Kate, describes the student teaching experience.
I’m somewhere around week five’s upward trend. Little comfort, because it won’t last very long.
I’m feeling confident about my ability to keep the rapscallions under control, and I’m feeling more and more confident about my ability to plan a lesson that might even teach something they end up learning, but despair is on the horizon.
I’ve already begun to start planning curricula for next year, and it takes a hell of a lot of time. I’m only three weeks into 11th-grade U.S. history. I’m thankful that its three weeks on presidents, maps and timelines double as the first six weeks of 8th-grade U.S. history.
I’d be fine if I didn’t have anything else to do. The chances of nabbing a job teaching American history are slim to none, so I’ll probably end up teaching a different subject while I plan a whole new curriculum.
It’ll be harder, as I’ll have other obligations. You know: making copies, answering phone calls, doing paperwork, grading papers and homework. Oh, and because I’m a new teacher, I’ll get to coach, sponsor or mentor something.
I’ll be busy enough already with contractual obligations. Inevitably, good teaching will have to wait. How depressing.
Moral of the story? Teaching would be an easy job if we all had secretaries. That would leave us time to plan new, exciting or even worthwhile lessons from the get-go.