Oh Well, What the Hell

When more than three people are
observing my classroom

There’s a limit to the number of people allowed in the classroom to observe us at any one time: four. Only four people can squish into the back of the room, distracting your students and somehow getting in between you and your words, their expressions effectively wiping out every bit of memory of the lesson plan that you had. Really, it’s not so bad.

Today my collab advisor observed me, sitting in the back of the class with my faculty advisor, who is always present. The collab advisor is a former corps member who acts as my most immediate advisor on all things TFA, while the faculty advisor is a current teacher who gives advice about what I should be doing to improve my teaching.

The class was modeling decimals through drawings and blocks, and the kids rocked it. They filled in their worksheets assiduously (a word I’ve taught them and reuse in every class while narrating their behavior), watched me model it and then enthusiastically gave a volunteer directions on how to do it, and then worked in groups as I challenged them to race and see who could fill in the most squares on their worksheets. Every single group got it; the nature of the work was such that everyone took a turn and everyone helped each other when they didn’t understand. A happy buzz of the directed chaos that I like filled the classroom as they hustled to arrange their blocks and fill in the handouts. When the first group finished they all stood with both hands in the air, grins on their faces. They got Cooper Cowboy Coupons.

As I gave the assessment, I moved about the classroom, pretty confident that all my students would do well. My collab advisor was smiling. She gave me a thumbs up.

I collected the assessments, turned the class over to my collab co-teacher, and sat down at my computer to enter the scores. I had an email. My faculty advisor had already sent her feedback. She complimented the high engagement, my use of manipulatives, my presence in the classroom, the energy in the class. But, she commented, I’d taught the wrong thing. The modeling we’d done was the slightly wrong concept. If I were more familiar with 6^th grade math, I’d have known that. Later, she and my CMA (collab advisor) came over to laugh. They told me I’d done a fantastic job. My teaching was wonderful. The kids really got a difficult concept. Only, it would have been better if I’d taught the right thing. A McWatt-styled shrug is in order: oh well, what the hell.