Andrew and I often employ some advice that we heard from Jon Bergmann:

Do you want it perfect, or do you want it Tuesday?

Most of the time, we want it Tuesday.  There are very few ideas that merit spending extra time and energy on developing them when you have as much work as Andrew and I do.  We often feel pulled in so many directions that it's all we can do just to get them done to Tuesday-quality standards.

The one aspect of our practice where we make an exception is in video production.  Sure, we make quick videos, like the ones I do on ShowMe, or the close reading videos
that take more time to record than they do to edit.  But most of our best work takes hours.

That's why the summer is the time we get the most video work done.  Last summer, I re-edited the research paper series to make it more manageable and useful.  We did a series on writing a literary analysis essay using Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer (essay prewriting video here). 

And we started a video about The Great Gatsby.  It began as a close read of the opening passage, but evolved into something that has taken months to perfect.  In order to make it, I had to learn Adobe After Effects.  That alone was hundreds of hours.  We wrote, edited, assembled, designed, rendered, and then revised it all and started over.  

The goal of this video was to help students get excited about reading the novel in class.  Not only does it do that, but it also demonstrates how we developed the claims put forth in the video.

So here is the video we made.  It may not be absolutely perfect, but of all our work over the last year and a half, it is the product of which I'm proud.  If you enjoy it, pass it on.  We hope that it helps more than just our own students appreciate a text as rich and beautiful as The Great Gatsby.

And if people like it, we may just try to make another video that ends up more on the "perfect" side, rather than the "Tuesday" side.

I’ve written before about how reading, for me, is now social.  I didn’t expect that would ever change...I really expected that reading would be like it always has been - stories in my own head, and something that belonged to me in a very real way.

But when Andrew burst into my life nine months ago, the way I read (along with everything else) changed.  Suddenly, it wasn’t just me reading.  We read books the other recommended, then talked about it as we read.  Texted quotes and commentary, thoughtful emails and Direct Messages on Twitter about the meaning of certain passages, and the relevance to our own lives...all of that made reading something that was no longer just a refuge where I could live in a world of (at least partially) my own creation.

When I first flipped my class, I got an idea while I watched a reality television show to do something similar to how they engaged viewers.  Throughout the episode, the hashtag for the show appeared in the corner, and viewers were encouraged to tweet their comments in real time.  So I stole that idea and used it for reading and watching video in my English 10 class last year.  They used Today’s Meet as a backchannel, and I saw their level of engagement increase substantially.  They were asking questions that showed more trouble with comprehension than I had any idea existed.  And instead of me answering all the questions, they started answering each other’s questions.  Kids who refused to talk in class were suddenly revealed to be incredibly engaged and possessing more knowledge than anyone realised.  It was actually one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever done in class.

And that’s how we read Night.  I made videos of myself reading each chapter using ShowMe, and we watched them in class.  Students participated over Today’s Meet (we had 1:1 netbooks last year in my classroom).  At the end of the book, every kid passed the assessment...because they actually were engaged in the reading.

And when I started at Redwood, I threw those ideas out for the most part because we were no longer 1:1 and my students were supposedly avid independent, motivated readers.

And a semester later, I’m wondering why I abandoned everything that worked so beautifully for the sake of a little less technology and what turns out to be a group of students who aren’t used to reading for English class.  They are, however, much more adept at using sparknotes and the internet to help them avoid reading.  And they have fooled most of their teachers for a long time, or have simply had a teacher resigned to the fact that her students wouldn’t read what was assigned.  I think all English teachers understand that it's pretty hard to get students to read and focus and comprehend and be excited about books.  And with the influx of technology, attention spans get shorter and teenagers struggle to find as much meaning in Catcher in the Rye as they do in Call of Duty or Facebook.  It's not a problem of this school, or this state, or whatever.  It's a universal problem, at least in American culture.

I had an idea a few weeks ago to have students produce an interactive book of the text they’re reading.  It follows the “Why Read?” inquiry unit we did at the start of the course, because now we’ve read one book together and so we have some experience using the strategies they selected.  And frankly, the way teenagers read has changed.

In an era where they can get high-quality summaries and analysis of most books on the traditional canon for high school literature, and where they’ve come to believe that reading books for school rarely yields anything but pain and suffering, how can we possibly wonder why they choose to do their hours of other homework without even glancing over the pages assigned in their English novel?

But here’s the problem: you can’t analyse what you can’t understand.  And you can’t understand what you don’t read.  So we’re at an impasse.

Now, I’ve had two relatively successful novel units.  We are just wrapping up Death of a Salesman in American Literature, and we are just finished with Night in Humanities.  So for the end product, it makes sense to go back to the original inquiry question: Why Read?

But the more interesting question to me is how my students believe they can help other teens read.  And that’s where the idea for the interactive book comes into its own.  An interactive book, created by the students in my class for the book they are reading or have just finished, could put in features like video explanations of difficult passages, or hyperlinked vocabulary or historical terms, or summaries to start and end the chapter, or focus questions so students can read for deeper analytical meaning.  All of those things would help me as a reader, and my guess is that my students would be helped as well.  But it still doesn’t solve the problem of how to leverage the ability of books to create community.

That’s where the idea for the CoFlipBooks Reads The Fault in Our Stars came from.  We wanted to know what would happen if we got together a group of friends and made videos for each of the chapters that would serve to start a discussion and deepen our own connection to and understanding of the book.  We’ve already got an introduction video and a video for chapter one and it’s been amazing so far.

We’re working on translating this for use in the classroom, and how it could fit into an interactive book.  We don’t have all the answers yet, but that doesn’t matter.  Part of blogging for me is sharing what is in process, rather than just what is finished product.

So when school starts on Monday, we will start talking about constructing an interactive book that will help students read socially and with thoughtfulness and depth.  I’d love to hear what you think about how that should work.

And please watch our book club videos!  And read with us!  And create video responses to any of the chapter videos!

I never realised just how much I took for granted about reading.  Every year, I vastly overestimate my students' ability to read on their own.  I assume that just because everyone in my department assigns reading regularly as homework that students are actually doing it and getting it.

This week has been the reality check for me: They aren't.  Even the "high achievers" either aren't doing the reading or they are doing it and not understanding it.  Even the AP students in some cases.  These are kids who get A's in everything, who can write and articulate intelligent arguments.  And they aren't reading what we assign.

These are the kids who are getting accepted left and right to Purdue and Brown and Cornell and UCLA and Cal.  These are the best kids from the best school in the best area.  

The real tragedy is that these are the exact kids who need the beauty and the breath of fresh air that comes with a good book.  The bookroom is filled with titles that I would have killed to teach at previous schools - Kite Runner, Me Talk Pretty One Day, Sula, The Things They Carried, Things Fall Apart, The Namesake, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Indian Country, Slaughterhouse Five, Pride and Prejudice, Man's Search For Meaning...our bookroom has hundreds of choices.

Hundreds of choices that our students pretend to read or understand for most of their four years here.

I'm not pointing fingers at my colleagues - I assigned reading homework last semester, and many of my students told me they didn't read all of those books either.  And some of them got A's from me too.  So we're taking kids who love reading, who read for pleasure, who will do homework, who are compliant, and churning out students addicted to Sparknotes, trained to jump into the point in the discussion where their failure to read or understand will be noticed least, and who think that literature is just an excuse for a treasure hunt for symbols that they can identify and spit back out on a test.

So what's going on?  And more importantly, how do we fix it?

If we believe that teaching through literature is the Right Way, and that the skills developed through beautiful literature can help students see their own life more clearly, analyse more carefully, and engage with the world more actively, then it's imperative we figure this out.  And I'm the least capable person to figure this out, because I did all the assigned reading in high school and college, loved it, and understood the vast majority of it.

So I asked my students.  In a previous post, I outlined the process we went through to ascertain what would be the best reading strategy for them.  I would encourage you to read that before continuing with this post.

So here's are some of the take-aways from that mini-unit.

First of all, it's different for every group of students.  That makes sense - any teacher can tell you that the climate of one section can be wildly different to another section of the same class.  But how often have we treated them the same in the method we use for reading?  I know I have.

Secondly, it will be a system of trial and error.  When we came up with the plan, I had a student ask, "What happens if we end up not liking this, or it doesn't work - are we stuck with it?"  NO!  The whole purpose in giving them voice and choice is to make it work for them.  Why would I force them to stick with something that wasn't working just because "they chose it"?

Thirdly, students are not used to being asked these questions.  They haven't thought about it either, on the whole.  They never think to question their teachers.  They said to me, when I asked why they don't question what we're doing, "But we just assume that either you have a reason or that it would be rude to ask.  So we don't ask why."  I died a little inside on that one.  Any student, regardless of age or ethnicity or grade level or ability, should be able to respectfully ask the teacher for rationale behind any assignment.  And if the teacher doesn't have one, it should prompt some serious reflection on the teacher's part.  I told my students that I would never ask them to do something for which I couldn't articulate a reason.

Finally, it's not enough just to have class discussions or to have students reflect on what they're learning and why.  Students need to be given far more voice and choice than they usually get in factory-style education.  I've found, over and over, that when I ask them for input, their ideas and cognitive process are amazing...often better than what Andrew and I came up with.  Most of the plans are a result of students advocating for what they need, and trying to take ownership over their education.  I'm confident that more students will be reading the assigned novels for these courses.  And it's not because they like me.  It's because they feel like it was their choice, and that if they have something to say about the process, the product, or the text itself, they have the freedom to say it.  They don't have to hide the fact that they hate the book - in fact, sometimes that's the start of the best discussions in my classroom.  And if they honestly aren't reading at home, how is it helpful to act out a farce in which we all pretend they ARE reading?  It's teaching them that education has shortcuts.  That they can get all of the answers off the internet.*  

Is that really what we want to be teaching them?

*side note: When I said that many of my PLN agree that "if you can google it, it's not a good question to include on a test" they just couldn't understand what a test would look like with information that wasn't googleable.  I gave some examples, such as: instead of memorising the dates of the Civil War (googleable), argue whether or not Lincoln did enough to prevent the war (not googleable).  Their words: "Yeah, that second option is way more interesting and useful."  Yes.  Yes, it is.

Below the fold are the specific plans that we worked out in each of my three classes that have started a novel. 

There are some days where you just don't feel quite so alone - that was today.  

For most of my colleagues, the first day back to class meant hiding out, staying isolated all day, learning new names, handing out syllabi, just surviving.

And even though I had five brand new classes that started today, it was a day of really meaningful connection.  I intentionally got out of my classroom to talk to a few colleagues and had some great (short) conversations with them.  

I also got to speak to every one of my new students (all 152 of them!) at least twice, and often five to six times in the class period.  I don't know their names yet, but I have seating charts with preferred names filled out and group pictures so I can try to learn them faster than last semester (I'm pretty sure I was still guessing on names in the 6th week...remembering that many new names in 50 minute periods just doesn't work for me I guess).  I ha former students drop in to say hi.  The best ones were when 6th period was about to start, and a whole group of my former 6th period students walked by - they wouldn't stop telling the newbies how lucky they were, and how they wished they could switch with them.

But the amazing thing was tonight.  For about 90 minutes, Andrew and I had the pleasure of being a part of the largest gathering of English flipped learning teachers that we know about.  Here's the line-up:

• Me, 11-12th grade, California
• Andrew Thomasson, 10th grade, North Carolina
• April Gudenrath, 9-12 IB, Colorado
• Kate Baker, 9th/12th grade, New Jersey
• Katie Regan, 10th grade, New York
• Shari Sloane, Alternative school environment, New York
• Sam Patterson, 9th grade, California
• Dave Constant, HS, Connecticut 
• Troy Cockrum, 7th-8th, Indiana

The amount of knowledge in that room is just absolutely incredible.  I learned so much just from being there and listening.  It reminds me of just how much we really need each other and how important it is to work with each other, but also just to connect and be friends.  We need both.

The most amazing thing is that all this time, there has been another collaborative partnership - Katie and Shari - in the English Flipped world.  It seems that Katie and I play a similar role, and Andrew and Shari play a similar role in the way we work together.  

As Andrew and I debriefed the conversation, we were struck by just how much we know, but how much we don't know.  None of our flipped classes look the same.  We all flip writing to some degree, but it looks different in every context, every classroom, every video.  Reading is a much more open field with far fewer answers.

We recorded the conversation and will be posting it soon.  I hope more people can learn with us.  As Andrew says, we may know stuff and may be "defacto experts" but we are learning as we go.  

If you're interested in joining us for one of these conversations, let us know either here on the blog or by finding us on twitter.  Maybe we can fill the room a little bit more next time.

So in about a week and a half, I start over.  Andrew and I have been brainstorming a way to start the semester, given that about 1/3 of each class will be returning students and the rest new.  I've wished more than once that I could just keep all my kids until the end of the year - we are at the point where the real amazing movement and progress is possible.

But there's no point in looking back.  It's time to move forward.

So the best idea we had was about reading.  All three of my classes are reading heavy - four to six novels in the semester.  I've really struggled with how to do reading in a way that fits with the mindset that Andrew and I have pedagogically and the context I have practically.  I don't want students to have to do all the reading at home.  We know that doesn't work for most of them, and it's often the homework left for last - many times, following 3-4 hours of homework into the early hours of the morning. 

So there has to be a way to give students the ability to use class time to read; that, paired with the ways that I'm encouraging reading rather than punishing the lack of reading, means that students won't have the stress that normally accompanies the teaching of a novel.  And part of that process is helping students explore why reading is so important.

So why do we read?  That's the question that will kick off our Explore-Flip-Apply mini-unit for all three classes.  From reading the essays from my Essay Exposition class about their experience in English thus far, it's clear that they do not understand why we're asking them to read books that have little to do with them or their lives.

Again - why are we asking them to read these books?  

It's because we believe that literature has a universality that can speak to the experiences that make us human.  Books tell us what it means to love, how to grieve well for lost love, why friendship is essential, how travel broadens our horizons.  They connect us to people with whom we have no connection, and will never know.  They show us the range of human experience and guide us through challenges and successes.

But more importantly for English teachers, literature is a vehicle to get our students to write and think critically.  Not to say that the "universality of human experience" angle isn't important - that's certainly the reason that adults continue to read after their education is complete.  But for our students, we use the characters, the plot, the setting and the writing itself to show them how we have analytical conversations, how to build a rational argument in writing, and to make connections.

But what do our students see?  They see us asking them to analyse the development of a main character.  They see us asking them to write a business letter in the voice of a character.  They see us assign reading quizzes and journals that ask them to interpret specific passages through a critical lens.

They don't see that all of those things are building their ability to become strong critical thinkers.  Is it any wonder that they push back against reading?  Is it any wonder that they don't see reading as important?

For our first unit, we want them to see both sides.  I have a feeling they can generate the "universality of human experience" answer, and that is what they will do on day one.  We will pose the question - why read literature? - we will see the reasons they develop.  Then for "homework" that first night, we will have students watch a short video where Andrew and I talk about why we use literature to teach our classes - and they will take notes.  

The next day, they will be in the computer lab and will be introduced to Google Drive and the AutoCrat script* we'll be using to create new documents for each assignment.  Once that is set up, we will compile the notes students took the night before onto a collaborative note-taking document.  The idea is that they start to develop note-taking strategies that will serve them well in college.  They will not often need to take notes in our class (rarely is there direct instruction, rarely is note-taking required while watching a video, and rarely do we assign ANY homework, let alone a video with notes) but working on collaborative documents will set the foundation for the CO-Lab partner work we will do later.  Then they will work on a reading timeline for their own life.  

The last two days of the mini-unit will be a Socratic Seminar (with collaborative note-taking, live during class and a backchannel discussion**) on why reading literature is important for high schoolers and a short vignette about a meaningful literary experience, positive or negative, from their own life.

The hope is that showing them that reading is about more than getting a grade, hearing about heartbreak, analysing a symbol, or memorising plot points will help them see the relevance of the reading we'll be doing.

The next portion of the unit will be watching Derren Brown's Apocalypse, which plays with the notion of a zombie apocalypse and uses a strong literary reference to The Wizard of Oz...yet another reason to read: so you understand references in popular culture.

I'd love to hear your reasons for why people should read literature.  Having a list of reasons for our video that draw from our PLN would be amazing.

*The amazing thing about this script is that students fill out a google form on the tmiclass.com website, then get emailed a document that is automatically shared with us, dropped in the correct folder, and titled with a standard naming convention.  It's pretty much the coolest thing in the entire world.  Second to collaboration, I guess.


**During our Socratic Seminar at the beginning of the year, I introduced a format I used for reading and watching movies last year and wrote about here on the blog.  Essentially, I open a todaysmeet.com thread, and display it on the front board.  Students then choose inner circle - talking - or outer circle - participating on the todaysmeet thread.  Then there is one students responsible for bringing in the interesting ideas from the students in the outer circle.  Started using this structure in September, and students have loved it and told me that it drastically lowers the anxiety associated with how they have been graded for discussions in the past.

So in the comments of my Homework in a Culture of Fear entry, Kate Baker asked me to elaborate on how I teach a novel without punishing students for not having read it, but also making class meaningful for all students.

Here is how I've done it at the start of this new unit on Indian Country by Philip Caputo.

Problem:  
Getting students to read a long text (419 pages) in a short-ish unit (3.5 weeks) and not punishing them for being behind in the reading.  Giving every student the ability to complete the classwork to some degree, even if they are behind.  Focusing on the things that are really important from the novel, and not on the minutia that is unimportant.

Context:
A mixed ability 11-12th grade English elective that lasts one semester.  The course is American Literature I, and is one of many options for how to fulfill English requirements at Redwood High School.  Most students report struggling with assigned books because they are either being asked to read something they don’t relate to at all, or they are being Close Read’ed to death in class.  They have read one novel and one play for this class, and this is the final unit.  Nearly all students completed the reading for the last two units, but many reported not finding it super-engaging at times.

My goals for this unit:

1. Analyse and trace a variety of themes through a long, complicated text
2. Engage students’ love for reading
3. Examine the way war changes Chris and what the long-term ramifications are on his psyche and on the relationships around him
4. Discuss ways in which loneliness can be dealt with and ameliorated
5. Respond critically to a variety of passages that illuminate the motivations and desires of a character, as well as how those push them to interact with others
6. Make them see that there are certain things that just make us human and that we all share

Here’s the way this looked in class:
Tuesday (11/20 - 50 minutes): Quiz 1, review/clarify misunderstandings, time to read
Monday (11/26- 50 minutes)): Quiz 2, review/clarify misunderstandings, time to read
Tuesday (11/27- 50 minutes)): Activity #1, #2 and #2.5 with discussion of responses
Wednesday (11/28 - 90 minute block): Activity #3 to accompany Vietnam: A Homecoming
Friday (11/30 - 50 minutes): Activity #4-#5 and time to read

If you want to see the actual assignments with rationale for why they were created and what the purpose was, you can see them after the break.

I have (along with every educator on Twitter) been thinking about homework.  Its role in my classroom and in school in general.  Its function and purpose.  Its value, especially in how it fits into flipped learning.

Here is what I have observed in the eight years I spent teaching before Redwood:

• The only kids who do homework are the ones who are A) scared their grade will drop or B) have parents pushing them (and usually both are true).
• Homework is generally worksheet-y, even in English and Social Studies. 
• Teachers are frustrated that students don't do homework.  They continue to assign it and deal with non-completers in disciplinary ways.
• Students hate homework.  No matter the value or purpose or length or subject.
• Many students give up on a course when their zeros keep mounting from incomplete homework assignments.
• Teachers assign homework if students fail to complete the assignment in class.  Teachers assign homework to cover concepts they don't have time to cover in class but are in the standards.  

This last one is more controversial:

•  Teachers assign homework because they are more concerned about teaching Responsibility than teaching the student.  

Some teachers assign homework as an exercise in values.  They argue that in The Real World, we all have deadlines and we all need to learn how to manage our time.  We compare it to chores - something no one wants to do, but just as it is necessary to maintain order in your physical world, it's necessary to maintain order in your academic world.

At Redwood, most of those answers are still true.  The only one that's different is the first bullet point.  At Redwood, 90% of students do homework.  That's in a general class, not an AP or Honours level class.  They expect to get between 2-5 hours of homework a night.

But everything else is the same.  They hate homework, teachers assign it, and it's primarily about teaching Responsibility.  There is an added element of You Need To Be Ready For College (and I can't fit everything into our face-to-face time).

I stopped giving homework when I started working at San Lorenzo.  They wouldn't do it, and I started doing research on the effectiveness of homework as a pedagogical tool.

So when I went to Redwood, I spent some time reconsidering that perspective for one major reason:
        Students would do it, and all teachers expected it to be assigned.

I didn't stop believing the research that said homework was not helpful for learning retention, and often was more harmful than it was beneficial.  I didn't stop believing that students needed the evening to unwind, spend time with family and friends, and pursue hobbies or other interests.  

No.  I started to consider assigning homework because I was afraid of the consequences if I didn't.  The same reason most of my students completed their homework.

I got scared.  What if my colleagues thought my class was "too easy" without homework?  What if my principal accused me of subverting the culture of the school?  What if my students thought my class wasn't rigorous enough?

That is the world of fear many of my colleagues inhabit, and the world of fear that my students pass though, hoping that they will escape when they get to college.  It's the world of fear that keeps them up until 3 AM doing college application because they had so much homework they couldn't start it until 1 AM...and they are so afraid that they won't get in that it makes them angry, depressed, and more afraid.

It's the world of fear that causes good teachers to go against their pedagogy and pretend that they are just "fitting into the school culture."

And it's bullshit.

A classroom built on fear is a classroom that denigrates the importance of community.  A classroom built on fear lives in the reality of reward and punishment.  A classroom built on fear cannot produce students who are responsible for their own learning and who pursue learning from passion and not pressure.

And it's not the kind of classroom I want.

**

There has been a lot of talk on Twitter about how flipped classrooms without homework can't really call themselves flipped. 

Now, I have written about our definition of the Flipped Mindset before.  So you know that I'm not a Flip 101 adherent - instead of flipping lecture onto video and off-loading it from class time, I don't lecture.  Instead of using class time to do the kinds of practice (let's be honest: worksheets) many of the English teachers I know assign, I try to build interesting discussions, engaging projects, and close reading of texts.

So when you ask me if homework is required for a flipped classroom, my answer is an Emphatic No.  The REAL flip in my class is that I have flipped the responsibility for learning to my students, and made the place where my students seek knowledge much more broad and no longer confined to my ten pound inadequate dyslexic brain.

I used to spend a tremendous amount of time rewarding good behaviour and punishing bad behaviour.  I had charts and systems.  I had Good Students and Bad Students, and that was largely down to who could most closely match the definition of "good" I had in my head and tried to superimpose on them.  

But why were the Good Students doing the homework?  Did they see the relevance to their lives?  Did they genuinely want the knowledge?  Were they doing it because they liked me and believed in me enough to do what I asked of them?  

Or were they doing it because they didn't want the consequences if they didn't?

The whole point of the flipped class Andrew and I run is to get students to the point where they pursue learning for the love of it and work towards becoming an educated person.  Where they believe in us and know that we believe in them.  Where they see the work we assign is relevant, purposeful, and not excessive.

Where assignments are about mastery, and not a number or a letter.  Where responsibility is developed over time, not as the result of turning in an assignment on time.  Where the Good Students are the ones actively engaged to the best of their ability at that time.

Where there are no Bad Students.  Only students who haven't Got It Yet.

**

So we don't give much homework.  The only major exception is that we have assigned students reading homework for the novel we're reading.  Now, we read parts in class, and often give them class time for the purpose of reading.  But many students prefer to read at home, as they have done their entire educational career.  And it's my job to be flexible and listen to my students.  If they use class time well, and want to read at home, I can deal.  After all, it is all about them.

However, I work really hard to make the reading "homework" not be about Teaching Responsibility or about reward and punishment. 

I work on igniting their passion for the story by creating engaging activities that draw them in, rather than punish them with zeros on reading quiz after reading quiz.  We're reading Indian Country by Philip Caputo right now, and this is what seems to be working:

• I give them assignments that make meaning from the text in a way that gives every student a way of completing it, regardless of where they are in the novel.  
• Every day, I spend a little bit of time talking about something in the section they read or the section they will soon read.  Today, I told my kids that there were two...disturbing...scenes with a woman and a bear.  And it doesn't end well...for either of them.  The one kid in class who had read ahead laughed knowingly.  And ten kids tried to read the book instead of watching the video about the Vietnam War.  
• At the start of class, I ask who made progress in the reading the night before, regardless of where they are in the novel.
• I gave them the power to control when the reading is due.  They named the Final Deadline, which is when we take that section's quiz.
• The quizzes I give are revisable and low stakes.  On the last one, I asked students to trade with someone who was roughly in the same place they were in the novel (so if they were on page 100, they shouldn't pair up with someone on page 3).  Then I had them add to or correct their partner's answer.  That gave them the time to critically think about each question, figure out if their partner answered correctly, and then add to their thoughts.  Many of the questions were opinion questions, so I had them add a personal note to their partner to encourage community.  
• The grade they get on the quiz isn't really important, because it's all formative assessment.  So there's nothing punitive - in fact, the only score they get is a point in the gradebook for completion. They will have to have read to complete the essay and project, and they will need to know enough to participate in discussions.
• The quizzes I give are often verbal.  That way, they can actually hear their classmates answer the questions, and they get to clarify misconceptions.  More repetitions=more practice.  

That list is how I justify asking students to do reading at home.

Because if I can't make a list like that, I shouldn't be assigning homework.  Here are my questions for you to consider in relation to your homework policy:

1. Is this something they absolutely must do or they will not be able to pass my course?  If it is, isn't it important enough to make sure they have the time, space, and assistance in class that they need to complete it?
2. Is this something that I value so much that I would complete it myself? If it isn't, do I really need to assign it?  If it is, am I willing to do it on the same schedule as my students?
3. Am I giving this assignment because I'm afraid?  Am I afraid of what people will think if I don't give homework?  Am I afraid that my students won't take me seriously if I don't?  
4. Am I giving this assignment because I failed to teach something adequately?  Is it fair to punish my students for my failure?
5. Am I giving this assignment to teach something other than the content?  Is it fair to be teaching values rather than content?

**

So that's a really convoluted way of saying that I think carefully about any assignment I give students that requires work outside of class.  I think about what my goals are, what my students need, how to make the work relevant for them, and how to show them what being responsible for their learning looks like.

And if, once in a blue moon, homework is required, I give it.  

I urge you to have the same conversation with your colleagues, your students, and with yourself.  Don't let the culture of fear push you to do something that is not good for your classroom community.

And if you have more suggestions for how to make reading homework (or any homework really) work in a flipped class, or other thoughts about the Great Homework Debate, please comment.  I love the dialogue that has already come from this subject.  And it's good for all of us to examine our practice, be reflective, and adjust when necessary.

And yes, leaving a comment is your homework assignment.  Don't make me put you on the Bad Blog Reader list.

Here's what they don't tell you when you're flipping in a highly-student centred environment:

It doesn't feel like you're teaching them anything.

For me, that's incredibly off-putting.

Even when I was doing video more often (the very short-lived Flip 101 days), I felt like I was teaching something.  But changing over to a classroom where I do very little "sit up front and talk" or even very little "watch this video and take notes" means that I often go for days without delivering information.

For the last few weeks, I've been doing the following things:

--helping students curate their work (14 writing assignments in Essay Exposition, 10 in Language of Humour) on playlists on MentorMob.  I wish we had thought of this early.

--individual writing conferences with my Essay Exposition (SAX) students, where they choose one assignment from their portfolios and we discuss what their purpose, audience, tone, and intended effect.  It's been great to work with them so individually and really talk in-depth about their writing.  I think my Language of Humour class will be next.  I just wish they didn't take quite so long...

--analysing a text (The Crucible) through a variety of lenses: psychological, historical, and thematic, through Socratic Seminar, and essay and a project (recreating the Crucible in the modern day)

--evaluating texts that are not typically thought of as narratives (like Derren Brown's amazing work) through discussion and essay

--working on a project that will not only teach my SAX students how to do research and write persuasively, but will help them take action to fix a problem in their own community.  Pretty excited about how it'll turn out.

None of that really involves direct instruction.  Other than giving tasks and having conversations, I'm not "teaching."

I guess it's time to re-define what we mean by teaching.

An exchange on Twitter with another teacher facing an impending observation reminded me that at some schools, the list of activities above is actually much more what they're looking for than the old definition of teaching. 

While I have so many amazing things happening in my classroom, my evaluation still includes a piece on direct instruction; in that, I feel like I'm taking a small step backwards.

And maybe that's why I still don't feel like I'm teaching: my school (and students) still define teaching as "what teachers do at the front of the room, talking constantly, as students take notes."

So how do we redefine teaching in the post-flipped world?

So I made a weird decision.  I decided to teach the Crucible without having students read the actual text.  Because the importance of that text is less the text and more the themes and patterns.

The core of this idea is from Andrew, Karl and me.  But we need help making it more awesome.  Please comment with any ideas or tweaks you may have.

Here's the outline of the project:

1. Watch the Crucible (streaming on Netflix!).  Generally discuss the play/plot.

2. Ask students to consider and have a Socratic Seminar on two questions:

• What motivation could you have for framing your best friend for a serious crime they didn't commit?
  
• How would you go about convincing people that your friend, a person well known for being upright and honest, had committed this crime?

Their answers were awesome, by the way.

3. Consider and Seminar about the three basic views of human nature/goodness:

• We are born basically good but can be corrupted
• We are born basically evil, but can be good
• We are a tabula rasa, and our influences are what determine our goodness

Discuss students' own view of human nature as well as the view of human nature as presented in The Crucible.  Give examples to support claims.

4. Watch documentary about Salem Witch Trials and the history/cultural influences going on in Salem.  Discuss/Seminar these questions:

• How does that view of human nature influence the judgements we make about the characters and situations?
  
• How does that affect how we perceive the entire event?  Is it an aberration or an inevitability?  Is it because of the cultural crucible presented in the documentary?

Here's the final product:
A video, essay or multi-media project that does this:
Using your assumptions about human nature and the impact that has on your view of the Salem Witch Trials, consider how the conditions could be created for this to happen again.  


Construct that scenario.  And since accusing people of witchcraft is currently out of fashion, what crime is likely to replace it (but keeps the same connotation and impact witchcraft had in Salem)?


Class context:
This is a class of mixed 11th and 12th graders, who are fairly proficient at technology and research, and can work together and collaborate extremely effectively.  They have learned how to do close reading, how to collaborate on Google Drive, how to create and upload videos to YouTube, etc.

We have access to a computer lab with brand new MacBook Pros, with both OS X (Mountain Lion) and Windows 7 on them.  I can stretch this project into next week, but I'd like it to be done by Friday, 7 November.

If you have suggestions or ideas about this, please post them here as a comment!