The Second Lesson I Learned From My First Year Teaching: Who Says You Can’t Pivot?
First off, thank you so much to everyone who read my first blog post! I really appreciate the handful of comments and messages I received, and am so glad it resonated with you all. Although I have had the idea for this second blog post for a while now, it’s been a struggle to put it into words… but here goes:
Who Says You Can’t Pivot?
I’ll start off with some context in hopes that the rest of the story will make more sense.
During my first year, I taught three sections of U.S. History and two sections of Government/Economics. I modeled my Government/Economics class after my two colleagues who taught the same course, but had complete freedom to decide what my U.S. History class would look like. In theory, not having to follow a strict curriculum seemed ideal, but I quickly found myself stressing over and seriously dreading unit planning and creating unit assessments.
When it comes to teaching, best practices will tell you that you should have your summative assessment (definition: any method of evaluation performed at the end of a unit that allows a teacher to measure a student's understanding) by the time you start your unit, so your students know what they’re working towards. As a first-year teacher, I was often foregoing “best practices,” and would instead focus on the bare minimum (to my standards) I needed to do in order to keep my head above water. Although I had yet to come up with exact prompts per unit, I started the school year committed to making each unit’s summative assessment a Document-Based Question Essay, commonly known as a DBQ (if you know, you know). Typically, DBQs are taught in AP history courses in preparation for the AP Exam. There was no expectation that my CP (“College Prep” aka non-AP class) students needed to leave my classroom knowing how to write a DBQ, but as someone who had taken AP U.S. History as a high schooler and who had student-taught an AP U.S. History course, DBQs were the only rigorous form of assessment that I was familiar with. It felt like the “right” thing—the only thing—to do.
Even though I was familiar with the DBQ as a student and a student-teacher, I had never effectively taught it. As we approached the end of Unit 1 on Reconstruction, I realized just how difficult it was to put together. Uncertain of where to begin, I spent hours pulling inspiration from two of my mentors’ resources to create a comprehensive 12-page packet that would help students outline and prepare for their essay. And then it came time to deliver the summative game plan. I introduced our plan for the week: 4 full days for me to introduce a DBQ and guide them through their packet. That should be enough time… right? Not quite.
Over the course of those four days, I whipped out my best strategies and most engaging lessons—teaching document analysis using Kylie Jenner’s Instagram posts as primary sources, scaffolding and modeling for students before they tackled it on their own, providing sentence stems, exemplars, and cheat sheets for them to follow (thank you to my high school teacher for sharing her resources), and walking them through the rubric to show them exactly how they would be assessed. Despite the hours spent on my over-prepared lesson plans, I didn’t feel confident while I was in front of my students. Amidst the sea of waving hands eager to ask another clarifying question, I came to the scary realization: I was able to affirm the students who were on the right track, but I didn’t really know how to help the students who were so far off. Meaning? I didn’t truly know how to teach this DBQ. But we were already this far—I had to keep going. On the day of the summative in-class essay, it was clear that there were mixed reactions about the assignment. As class ended, some students closed their laptops with a confident smile, feeling proud of their work. Others left the class groaning and announcing that “[the DBQ] was the worst thing [they’ve] ever had to do!”
I thought teaching the DBQ was challenging, but having to grade 100 essays proved to be even worse. And when I finally handed back the graded assessments, the headache only amplified. I had students come up to me during office hours demanding a new assessment. “You need to give me an alternative assignment. This isn’t how my brain works.” “How did I get a 6/10?! Writing is literally my best subject.” “I have an A in every single class except yours.” “This packet you gave us didn’t help at all.” I felt absolutely defeated… and it was already time to start preparing Unit 2’s summative assessment.
I can’t quite put into words the amount of stress I felt trying to come up with a DBQ that aligned with my unit while keeping my students’ skills and expectations in mind (the last thing I wanted was a repeat of our Unit 1 fiasco). I ran through multiple prompts in my head and tried outlining potential essays as if I were a student. I couldn’t come up with anything good and honestly felt like giving up. I laid awake in bed as fragmented prompts ran through my sleepy mind like a hamster on a wheel. Days passed and I still hadn’t come up with a working prompt and set of documents. It got to a point where I desperately needed help; I called Ryan while he was at a friend’s housewarming party. After twenty minutes of me literally killing his buzz as I cried about my summative assessment and about how much I dreaded my job, Ryan said sternly (and lovingly, haha), “I see two options: either you change your summative assessment right now or you quit your job.”
“I see two options: either you change your summative assessment right now or you quit your job.”
“Quit my job, are you kidding?!” I was legitimately shocked that he so seriously suggested that as an option. “Okay, then change your summative.” I paused. Change my summative….? Could I even do that? Well, who says I can’t? But… what would I even change it to? The only other summative assessments I was familiar with were multiple choice tests and free-response questions. But my mind automatically replayed flashbacks of staff meetings in which I caught a glimpse of my colleagues’ disdain, “F*ck multiple choice tests. If teachers are giving lectures and multiple choice tests, they shouldn’t be teaching here. We need to get our students to critically think… write essays… complete projects.” I gulped as I thought about my already lecture-heavy class. Somehow, changing the summative to something I felt more comfortable with seemed impossible.
But one day as I was driving home, I had a movie-esque “lightbulb moment.” I thought to myself, "What is the purpose of a summative assessment?” To assess what students have learned throughout the unit… Well, we didn’t spend any time during our unit (besides the last 4 days) learning or practicing how to write a DBQ…
My eyes widened.
But we did spend the entire unit taking multiple choice quizzes (in which students have been getting increasingly better at), analyzing political cartoons, and responding to open-ended discussion questions… so why not put all that together into a summative exam?
“What if it’s not as progressive as what I learned in grad school? What if it’s not what my colleagues are doing?” Well, it’s not their classroom. “What is my own philosophy of teaching?” For students to build confidence and self-efficacy as a student and as a learner. “And as a student, when did I feel like I was most challenged during an assessment?” During Dr. Larry Jamner’s Abnormal Psychology 102C class. He gave us ~20 long-response questions and 7 would be on the midterm/final. We essentially had all the questions, but it was up to us to adequately prepare our answers before the exam. It was extremely stressful, but by the end of it, I put in the effort, and felt like I really understood the material and was able to articulate my thoughts. I wanted my students to feel the same way.
I arrived at school the following day and was transparent with my students: I was going to change up the summative assessment for Unit 2 because I realized that I had made a mistake. I told them about my epiphany on the drive home the day prior and acknowledged that I could do better by them and by my own class. They really, really appreciated both my honesty and the new direction. And, so did I. (Some students were even sad about not having a DBQ as they felt confident about the last one!)
Exam day was here and the response from my students filled me with joy and relief. They walked in and out of class feeling good about their work. They had prepared well, and from the look of their scores, it paid off. And the best part? I felt so much better about the summative, too. I even had some fun creating the exam!
This might sound like I had everything figured out, but the truth is, I was terrified. Although I knew that the exam worked better for me and my students, I couldn’t help but feel like I was doing something wrong. This feeling was most apparent when I realized just how scared and embarrassed I was to tell my colleagues about my Unit 2 assessment. I remember multiple occasions in which I quickly hid my exams in my drawer as they walked in my classroom. And when I finally mustered up the courage to tell a few trusted colleagues, I shared shamefully. They’d reassure me, “It’s only your first year—you can change it up next year!” But what if I didn’t want to change it up? What if this summative is what finally felt right to me? Did that mean I was a terrible teacher? Was I not challenging myself or my students enough? Did I not belong at this school? It was easy for me to get swept up in the anxious and self-deprecating thoughts.
Until one day when the words from a colleague changed my perspective. As I mentioned during my previous blog post (Lesson 1: The Power of Saying No), I typically ate lunch alone in my classroom. However, during one of the very few times I joined my coworkers for lunch, I sat next to a veteran math teacher whom I deeply respected. He asked me how I was doing and I decided to tell him about my summative swerve. His soft but certain words touched me and completely shifted how I viewed the situation, “Katrina, you should be very proud of yourself. There are so many veteran teachers who would not have done what you did. To have reflected and evaluated your own assessment and to have pivoted in a way that better serves you and your students… is something to be proud of. And the fact that you did that after your VERY first unit of your VERY first year says so much about you as a teacher.”
My takeaway questions for us all: Are we following a blueprint? If so, whose blueprint is it and why? And if we are indeed following a blueprint, have we stopped to ask ourselves, “Is this true to me? Is it true to my values or philosophy?” More often than not, we may be unnecessarily running ourselves to the ground by following someone else’s blueprint or timeline.
Who says we cannot pivot even after we’ve already started down a path? Might another route somehow better serve us and the people around us? There are so many things in life that we do not have control over; especially in times of stress and turmoil, let us focus on the things we DO have control over.
I hope this blog post can serve as a reminder to you that whether in the classroom, in your career, in relationships, or anything else… you can pivot.
Stay tuned for the next lesson: Of course I know your name.
