“Screens Down!” (The Ecosystem of the Computer Science Classroom)

As a computer science student, I confess that it’s hard to focus when your primary tool for productivity is also connected wirelessly to an infinite bank of distractions. And I’m supposed to be disciplined.

Controlling/Directing/Supervising/Babysitting/Commanding (etc) a classroom of dozens of students with varying interest levels is tricky. Having computers makes it that much more… impossible?

The introduction of the computer into the classroom environment changes things. So I’ll put on my anthropologist hat and observe and report on this environment:

Solo Coding: I’ll get started as soon as youtube/ pandora/ Soundcloud starts playing

This is the most traditional environment for a programmer and is a default choice in the classroom. Here, students are not instructed to work with anyone in particular and there is (supposed to be) a 1:1 ratio of students to computers. Students typically self-assemble into “herds” (some prefer to work alone) and find their earbuds and the latest Taylor Swift, Kap Slap, Kanye, etc. mix and begin to program…eventually.

Getting students into their coding rhythm is the challenge. In a fifty minute period, students will typically get in their zone in five to twenty minutes. To reiterate, nothing happens until they sit with their friends and begin chatting and then put headphones on (and chat louder). But eventually things settle down and the music fuels the code. It just takes longer than teachers would prefer.

Pair Programming: The wheelbarrow race of programming

In pair programming there is a pair of students to each computer. These pairs are typically self-selected. In its purest sense, pair programming involves two roles: Navigator and Driver. The navigator decides in which direction the code will go, making design decisions and telling the driver what to do. He is not actually supposed to touch a keyboard or mouse. The driver operates the keyboard and mouse and actually produces the code as instructed by the navigator. The navigator and driver switch roles periodically.

To be fair, no one follows pair programming to the “T”, and Ms. Serene’s class is no exception. The roles of pairs are across the spectrum. Some pairs ignore the roles and pass/take the keyboard to the member who has an idea. Other pairs take the “navigator” role as a good time to check in with other groups and friends. Other pairs never switch roles because one of them is disengaged and not really contributing, so one person is trying to hold the map and drive (serves both roles).

Despite all this, I am a fan of pair programming. It needs a little bit of guidance (especially in the beginning), but it encourages students to either think or do, either to design or code, but not both at the same time. Any introduction to the concept of designing is crucial to computer science education.

And pair programming gets them to play well with others. Always a plus.

Screens Down (to at least an acute angle)

This is the hardest part of the day for most students. “Screens Down” involves students looking up from the screen and focusing on another human being (their teacher to be specific).

When Ms. Serene or Ms. Song requires the entire classes’ attention (typically to wrap up a class or make an announcement), they ask for screens down (for laptops) or screens off (for computers). You have to remove the screen from play because there is no way a teacher can compete with the magical box of infinite distractions.

It usually takes anywhere from thirty seconds to a minute or two to get all screens down/off. There is always a few rebellious students who try to “subtly” work in their almost but not quite closed screens. But if a teacher requires attention from the entire class, you need to remove the screen.


When you’re teaching computer science, prepare to compete with the machine for attention. It plays music and is connected to the internet. You’re not. Play to your strengths and remember to command it to turn off when you need it to.

“Screens Down!” (The Ecosystem of the Computer Science Classroom)

“As Long as I get Credit” (Grading Computer Science)

Grading a math assignment is trivial. Right is right, wrong is wrong. (Ok, so there is also something to be said about showing work and partial credit.)

Grading an english paper is a bit more challenging. Proper grammar is one thing, but the logic, style, and the flow of the paper is less objective and more up to interpretation. And don’t get me started on grading art, because I’m an engineer.

Case and point: If it involves creativity, it’s hard to grade.

So how do you grade computer science?

So sure, it’s one thing to grade purely functional code. That’s like a math assignment. Does this code do this thing? We can grade that with automated testing. In my software engineering course I took sophomore year of college, everything was automatically graded through unit testing. Does my code successfully find the greatest common factor? Did I consider edge cases such as negative numbers, zero, or even words as input? Yes or no. Black or white. But that’s functional code. That’s not the issue at hand.

Taking a step back, we have to consider programming projects that are a bit more elementary, that invoke a greater sense of creativity. This is the challenge that Ms. Serene and Ms. Song face in their classroom, that countless middle school, high school, and college educators face when they teach introduction computer science courses. These courses involve projects that require creativity to engage budding CS students in programming. Put simply, a talent show featuring dancing animals is more comfortable to program than finding the nth fibonacci number in linear time.

Both Ms. Song and Ms. Serene award points for progression in the form of daily check-ins. Ms. Song checks students off every other day or so to ensure they are making progress. Ms. Serene has students submit their work at the end of each day so that she can review it. So it is clear that consistent progress is important in both classrooms. And reflecting on my own coding projects, many of which lay dormant until the deadline looms, I feel that these checkpoints are crucial to instilling good habits in programming, or really problem solving in general.

Here’s the big secret in Ms. Serene’s class:

Everyone gets an A

(so long as they meet the basic requirements, so long as they “finish” the project/assignment)

Crazy right? So let’s think about this. On one hand, students shrug of the pressure of having to get it “perfect” in favor of taking risks and making mistakes in a safe environment. On the other hand, students (especially the high achieving but perhaps less motivated ones) are overheard saying things such as:

“On stupid stuff like this, I don’t need to do something memorable. Especially when I can just get ahead” -student

When you set a clear threshold, it’s inevitable to find that almost every student finds his way just past over it and not much further.

So how do you create a minimum threshold while also encouraging students to reach higher?

It’s an open-ended and certainly important question. The solution can’t be easily summarized in a blog, but it will involve open-ended projects with a sense of purpose. If projects are open-ended, they will inevitably differ and align with student’s previous experiences and interests, so it has a purpose and isn’t “stupid.”

Students should be able to show off their project and have a sense of ownership over what they have done. So a bit of competition/bragging in the classroom come project time is probably a good thing. Just make sure the incremental progress is being monitored as well.

“As Long as I get Credit” (Grading Computer Science)

Creation vs Creative

Admittedly, it bugged the sh*t out of me the first few times I saw it.

“STOP looking through Google images for a picture of a “syringe in a field” for your stranger than fiction ‘Avoid Ebola as You Found A Start-Up’ game…”

That was an observation from Ms. Serene’s 9th grade class.
And I just kept seeing it in every class I observed:

In Ms. Song’s class, students spent most of their time designing the screens for their side-scrolling video game made in Snap!, often not budgeting enough time for their checkoffs. In Ms. Serene’s 10th grade class, students spent time trying to add a certain part of a certain song or certain dance move for their sprites in their “talent show” game.

The students are off-task, so I should be helping them get back on task. Right?

Maybe It’s all About Off-Task

This is (at least in part) why I feel math is viewed as “hard” and language arts isn’t:  There is a lack of ownership.

For “2x – 2 = 6”, x equals four is the answer for EVERYONE (hopefully). For a one page paper on “Your Summer Vacation,” the story you write about trying all summer to make a raft out of driftwood to sail across a lake is uniquely YOURS. It’s about ownership.

When students have a sense of ownership over their work, students are truly engaged.

If every student created a vanilla programming project where the same sprite did the same specific action when a certain button was pressed, there is no ownership. But when students in Ms. Serene’s 9th grade class are making a “Choose Your Own Adventure” game with Pencil Code and the topics range from founding a company while avoiding ebola to finding a bow and arrow to slay a dragon, there is ownership. This my game and it is different than yours.

Ownership is easy to spot

Showing off is a good thing. Well in this case it is. Ms. Serene’s 10th grade students show off how well their sprites dance to the music and Ms. Huang’s students are show their classmates how challenging their side scrolling game is. Students provide feedback for each other (even if it often is “My game is way cooler. Check it out!). There is often a sense of community (often through competition) and almost always laughter, excitement, and smiles. This is what ownership looks like. This is what an engaged classroom looks like.

I just wish it didn’t take students so long.

Is there a better solution?

So the problem is that students dedicate a long time to personalizing a project. While this personalization really engages them and makes them proud of what they have done, it is also time spent away from the explicit learning objectives. So how do we have our cake and eat it too? To be honest, I’m not so sure.

Ideally, we would want to “front-load” the tasks that more closely relate to our learning objectives. So students would plan and program the functionality of their projects with minimal personalization, and then personalize. But this would mean students may not be engaged until the the end of the project (when they start personalizing).

So really we need to find a hybrid solution where students are engaged through personalization while our learning objectives are being reached. Exactly how to find this middle ground is specific to classrooms. Factors to take into account are prior experience (in and out of class), class type (required class or elective, AP or regular), student type (believe in themselves? motivated?), and teacher type (leads classroom or just another member of the community?).

Creation vs Creative

The Return to the Academy

Back to School

So I’m back at El Dorado Academy! A year and a half ago, I was observing Mr. Frick’s chemistry courses (#11.125).

This time I’m shadowing computer science teachers “Ms. Serene” and “Ms. Song” (Again, totally fake names of everything from students to teachers to the school itself).

Ms. Serene teaches a 9th grade class as well as a 10th grade class. Ms. Song teaches a combined 11th and 12th grade class. All the classes are electives. Admittedly I don’t remember which ones have prerequisites (have to be sure to ask them that). Regardless, we can gather that there is at least a bit of personal interest from the students to be in these courses. Also, the status as an elective means that the curriculum can vary and is in some cases often dynamic and changing to student needs.

I guess the first thing that doesn’t cease to surprise me is El Dorado Academy’s  approach to discipline in the classroom.

Compare and Contrast

In my high school, discipline is what you would expect. You keep quiet and listen, speaking when you’re told to. Bad students are sent away to the principal for detentions, suspensions, etc. No swearing and no music. You are on a short chain and that’s how it is. There is more freedom in AP classes I took later in high school, but as a general rule of thumb, the teacher rules the classroom with a big stick.

Now to El Dorado Academy. Well, every teacher I have ever observed has the patience of a priest. In a standard classroom, it is not uncommon to hear plenty of chatter and see people with headphones on. Teachers are less of enforcers of the classroom discipline and more of guides in the experience. When there are too many interruptions during a lecture, Ms. Serene stops and waits until the class has refocused until she continues. Ms. Song simply ignores the off-task remarks during her lectures.

So this brings the interesting concept of the teachers’ role in the classroom.

Community

With the more relaxed rules at El Dorado Academy, we see a more community-centered learning environment (Concepts from How People Learn, Chapter 6). Students are in a more comfortable environment that they share ownership of. They are not afraid to speak up and be try things, as there has never been anything wrong with speaking up.

In Ms. Serene’s class, students test each others’ projects (games they program) by playing them and rating them (students who create the games with the most “likes” get extra credit). While I was afraid this would quickly deteriorate into a political situation where students bargain with each other for more “likes,” this never happened. Students gave open feedback and were excited to show what they had created. I think this is in part because there was no fear of failure. The guidelines were flexible such that they encouraged creativity rather fulfilling specific requirements. The other aspect was that grading was such that everyone who put the effort in would get “A”s (a topic I will review in a later post), so there were no political power plays to get the extra credit.

In Ms. Song’s class, there are peer helpers. They are two random students each day who others can turn to for “help” that day. Ms. Song assures the class that peer helpers are selected randomly and are not necessarily experts, but new eyes and perspectives on a project often help progress it. Surprisingly enough, peer helpers are often called upon.


So if you loosen the grip on students, it appears they will take more ownership of their learning, at the cost of a slightly more chaotic classroom. Oh, one more small detail: They appear to have more fun learning.

The most important aspect in the success of the “casual classroom” is that the students have an underlying respect for the the teachers.

The Return to the Academy

“I used to think…Now I know…” (Wrap of my first education course)

11.125 (Understanding and Evaluating Education) wrapped up for me today. Bittersweet is the best words for it.

In our final moments, my professor, B. Justin Reich, brought the class together to think about how this course influenced our perceptions of education. He went around the class and asked up to verbally fill in these blanks:

I used to think ________; Now I know _______.

The entire class of MIT undergraduate and graduate students from majors across the institute went around and answered these questions. I’ll provide you with a few of the responses to the first blank and leave you to think about the second blank.

I used to think      TECHNOLOGY WAS A DISRUPTION     

I used to think      STUDENTS CAME IN AS BLANK SLATES     

I used to think       TEACHERS TAUGHT STUDENTS AND THAT WAS IT     

I used to think      A QUIET CLASSROOM WAS GOOD     

I used to think      TEACHERS DIDN’T CARE ABOUT THEIR STUDENTS     

I used to think      THERE WAS A FORMULA FOR TEACHING     

Want to wager a guess which I said? (I’ll save you the reread: I didn’t post my response.)

 

 

And of course, Justin’s last words were “obligatory life advice.” I must admit, I have a soft spot for these tender moments of insight from professor to pupil.

Justin defined the “Threats of MIT,” how the MIT community can trick you into thinking there are a limited (or even finite) number of clearly defined pathways to “success.”

 

“Do what makes YOU happy.”

 

Have I heard that before? Well of course. But when most around you have passions and interests that involve more commas in the paycheck to you, when big companies and aggressive start ups shout the loudest at career fairs, when an MIT education would “go to waste” if it was used on an educator, it’s easy to lose sight of it all.

Did I have an epiphany and now have reoriented my entire life? Not quite. But there is plenty more to think about.

 

“Think about it. Does America need more lawyers, consultants, another person to make some company on Wall St. richer?” -B. Justin Reich

“I used to think…Now I know…” (Wrap of my first education course)

Metacognition: My Personal Reflections

Observing Mr. Frick at El Dorado Academy helped me better recognize the dynamic role of the teacher and how it influences the interactions within the classroom and in effect, how students learn. It also gave a glimpse into the addressing the challenges of teaching, including gauging mastery of content and ensuring no students were being left behind.

To begin with, I see Mr. Frick as more of a “coach” than a “teacher.” As a student, I spent much of my life seeing a teacher as someone who taught to me and policed the classroom. While part of Mr. Frick’s role as a teacher does include teaching towards defined objectives in the form of lectures and more “traditional teaching,” most of the class is dedicated to students learning from each other. In this learning setting, Mr. Frick is more of a coach in that he encourages students to learn for themselves and from each other, while providing guidance and support when necessary.

These observations also helped me better identify the challenges of teaching relating to gauging student’s progress and ensuring all students progressed.  As a student I figured written assessments told teachers plenty in regards to what was being learned and what was not, but after observing Mr. Frick I realize that this feedback should be practically instantaneous. Mr. Frick is constantly determining students’ mastery as he asks them questions in class, looks over their shoulder during problem solving sessions, reviews their write-ups and homework, and interacts with them every class. This has to be done constantly so no student “slips between the cracks,” and falls behind, a daunting task for one man in a class of over twenty.

My observations and blogging tended to focus on student autonomy and its effect on learning. I feel this was my focus because what I observed was so inherently different from the learning environment I experienced at a traditional public high school. At El Dorado, I was observing a self-proclaimed family that was growing and struggling together. This setting is a result or the more relaxed classroom environment Mr. Frick maintains. As a result, students are more comfortable with each other, enabling them to ask each other questions, to learn from each other, to teach each other. This encouraging of metacognition is crucial to mastery of chemistry. Furthermore, this fosters social development, another paramount to high school learning.

When reflecting back upon my observation experience, I can honestly answer the question of “Why Teach?” to myself. The answer includes the unique experiences every class and student presents, which foster both challenges and personal development. Mr. Frick allowed me to take a more active role in my observation and I took advantage of this opportunity. I feel I was in a unique position as I was a bridge or in the between: I wasn’t really a student but wasn’t really a teacher; I wasn’t really a kid, but also wasn’t really an “adult.” This enabled me to connect with students, as I had gone through high school a few short years ago. Students who were often not comfortable asking Mr. Frick for help felt more inclined to ask me. And even if it was the same question, I realized after a few observations I could not provide the same answer between two different students. The students of 10C at El Dorado Academy grew on me, and they helped me grow.

Being in the classroom provided me not only with challenges, but also a sense of connection to a group of students I felt I could positively influence; in effect, this provided me with a sense of fulfillment and happiness as I was challenged to “think like the learner.” Furthermore, I gained a stronger connection with some students. I was able to help Amadeus develop his contentions for his first high school debate, as well as help him conquer his nerves as I could relate to those jitters before my first high school debate. I went through high school a few short years ago, so I feel I could relate to their struggles. But this was not a one-way street. When I was under stress (especially after the Marathon Bombings), I would spend more time with Mr. Frick’s class, because there I found a sense of fulfillment and peace in the classroom as I learned about learning.

From my observations, I conclude that teaching requires constantly learning and results in measurable progress and a personal sense of fulfillment.

Metacognition: My Personal Reflections