Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts

RYSK: Gutiérrez's Political Conocimiento for Teaching Mathematics: Why Teachers Need It and How to Develop It (2018)

Rochelle Gutiérrez keynoting the 2016 CCTM Conference
I haven't used the "RYSK" tag for a blog post in almost four years, but only because I've taken to summarizing research over on the MathEd.net Wiki. That wiki turns five years old this month while this blog turns eight! I think my best strategy is to summarize on the wiki and editorialize here on the blog, and the events of this week demanded that I break my blogging silence and deal with an issue of the moment.

Last Monday I was riding the bus home when Google stuck an article from an anti-liberal education site called Campus Reform into my news feed. It was about a math education professor and white privilege, so I checked it out (in incognito mode — I try not to give Google the wrong ideas about the sites I want more news from). The article was about Rochelle Gutiérrez and honestly, it didn't say all that much except to highlight connections Rochelle was making between math and white privilege. The comments below the article were...what you'd probably expect. I closed the story and didn't think much about it, other than, "I wonder if this story will go anywhere?"

Go somewhere, it did. On Wednesday Google showed me that Fox News had picked up the story. Predictably in this era of internet news, it wasn't original reporting on the content of Rochelle's work. It was just a rehash of the Campus Reform article and it was getting a lot of comments. Judging by what I was seeing, the Fox News patrons didn't seem to have read Rochelle's work either. I searched Twitter for use of Rochelle's handle and saw she was getting a lot of negative comments with some blatant harassment thrown in (I reported one person whose account was subsequently found in violation of Twitter's rules). Those people didn't appear to have read Rochelle's chapter, either. (A notable exception: Jason Miller's post and conversation on Google+, which took the rational approach of asking "Does anyone know more about this?" and got replies like, "Here's more info, but not enough to draw conclusions." Score +1 for Google+.)

If I've learned anything in 2017, it's that I need to be upset/outraged on my own schedule and on my own terms. That usually means doing more listening and learning and not jumping into a soon-forgotten online fray. So I ordered the book Building Support for Scholarly Practices in Mathematics Methods, in which Rochelle's chapter appears, and waited a few days for it to arrive so I could actually read it before commenting.

I've now read and summarized the chapter on the MathEd.net Wiki. Did Rochelle link the privilege of mathematics to the privilege of being White? Did she say we perpetuate that privilege when we focus on Greek mathematical history and not that of other peoples? Did she say we should see mathematical knowledge is relational, and not objective? Yes, she did say all those things, and in that way the original Campus Reform article was mostly accurate. Where it wasn't accurate — and led many other sites and their audiences astray — was representing Rochelle's chapter as mostly about those things. Rochelle made most of those statements in a page or two, then spent the rest of her 27 pages laying out a framework of teacher knowledge meant to help prospective teachers deal with the political realities that affect their work.

What strikes me after reading the chapter is that Rochelle names many political influences on teaching and education that are also common targets of the right: Common Core, Pearson, big philanthropic foundations, bureaucratic inefficiency and misdirection, and control of schools that doesn't reflect local needs. There is plenty of common ground to be explored in the chapter if people choose to look for it and discuss it. The news sites could have done that, but they didn't. It wouldn't be sensational enough to generate traffic and ad revenue, and their typical narrative doesn't leave room for discussing the development of political knowledge meant to benefit traditionally underserved students.

Now that things have (probably) quieted down, we can look at Rochelle's chapter for the reasons she wrote it: to inform math teacher educators who want to help prospective teachers deal with the political pressures and distractions that can interfere with giving students the help they need. If you are a math teacher educator, this looks like a book you should have. I've put the table of contents on the wiki along with the summary of Rochelle's chapter.

Lesson Story: Track Stars

I haven't had my own classroom in a while, so when I got the chance last summer to model a lesson for some math teachers at a summer workshop, I was eager to try a task Bill Penuel turned me on to in a paper by Schwartz and Martin (2004):

Track Stars

Bill and Joe are both on the U.S. Track Team. They also both broke world records last year. Bill broke the world record for the high jump with a jump of 8 ft. Joe broke the world record for the long jump with a jump of 26 ft, 6 in. Now Bill and Joe are having an argument. Each of them think that his record is the best one. You need to help them decide. Based on the data in the table, decide if 8 ft shattered the high jump record more than 26 ft 6 in. shattered the long jump record.

Top High Jumps in 2000    Top Long Jumps in 2000
Height Number of Jumps Length Number of Jumps
6'6" 1 21'6" 1
6'8" 2 22'0" 2
6'10" 3 22'6" 2
7'0" 5 23'0" 9
7'2" 6 23'5" 9
7'4" 7 24'6" 4
7'6" 4 25'0" 1
7'8" 1 25'6" 1
8'0" 26'6"

When I used this task with teachers a few years ago in our task analysis research it was rated quite highly: 5 out of 6 teachers said it rated as "Doing Mathematics" in Smith and Stein's (1998) cognitive demand framework and the task was unanimously judged as a good example of a task likely to engage students in Standard for Mathematical Practice #3, construct viable arguments and critique the reasoning of others.

Context

For the summer workshop I was working with about 20 math teachers who would be grouped by grade band (elementary, middle high) and I asked them to attempt the task using the abilities expected of students at their grade level. I admit, this makes for a somewhat artificial exercise, but I wanted to see if this task would stretch across a lot of different levels of student ability and elicit a very wide range of student strategies (even if the "students" were teachers).

One of my greatest teaching weaknesses has always been in my questioning strategies. Too often I accept quick choral responses to questions in the initiate-respond-evaluate pattern, and I don't do much to (a) push student thinking and (b) promote equitable participation, so for this lesson I used a combination of these resources:
There is a lot of overlap in the 5 Practices, Launch/Explore/Summarize, and the goal of facilitating meaningful discourse. That's a good thing.

The Lesson

I anticipated (the first of 5 Practices) different strategies across the three groups:
  • I expected the elementary school group to focus on measuring distances and visual comparisons, and to bring up struggles around working with feet and inches and the under-developed sense of ratio.
  • I expected the middle school group to calculate means and use proportional reasoning (like, "The record is 110% of the average), and perhaps use mean absolute deviation (MAD) as a measure of variability. I expected to see struggles in accounting for the multiple jumps at each distance, in calculating MAD, and debates around using mean vs. median as a measure of center.
  • I expected the high school group to be similar to the middle school group, but to use standard deviation instead of MAD.
For the launch phase I avoided giving away any hints or clues about possible strategies. It was difficult to design a launch that connected to prior knowledge because of the artificial nature of teachers playing the role of students, so I took a moment to ask the teachers to think about the knowledge they'd expect students to have given the standards at their grade levels.

During the explore phase of the lesson I monitored (the second of 5 Practices) the groups for the strategies I anticipated. I wanted to use pressing questions here to push people's thinking, such as:
  • "Can you tell me why you think that is correct?"
  • "What do you mean by 'farther'? Is it because you added? What else might you do to measure 'farther'?"
Questions like this designed to press for student thinking were often met with teacher speculation about student thinking. As solution strategies came together, I noted them on my phone with the goal of selecting (the third of 5 Practices) two strategies per group to discuss during the whole-group summary phase of the lesson. The sequencing plan (the fourth of 5 Practices) was to discuss elementary first, then middle, then high school, with the less sophisticated strategy presented first at each level.

Here are the two posters from the elementary group:




The elementary group could quickly work through multiple strategies, so from this group I got more than just the two strategies I planned for. One set of strategies focused on how much more the record was than the next longest/highest jump, and the other set used a graphical representation of the jumps. Here are the posters from the middle school group:




One set of strategies compared the record jumps to the mean jumps, and the other set used a graphical display and interquartile range. Here are the two posters from the high school group:




There was less to differentiate these two strategies, as both groups calculated standard deviations and z-scores as a way of measuring how far above the mean was each record jump.

In the summarize phase of the lesson I focused my questioning around linking moves, such as:
  • "How does your strategy compare to the first one from the elementary group?"
  • (Following an explanation by Kathryn) "Tammy, do you have any questions for Kathryn?"
  • "Phillip, how might your argument change if you used Dan's method?"
With questions like these, I hoped to draw connections (the fifth of 5 Practices) between ideas, such as:
  • Connecting the visual centers of graphical displays with the calculated centers of the data
  • Connecting MAD and SD
  • Connecting the "measuring stick" idea between proportional reasoning at lower levels and the counting of MAD/SD units

Reflection

I had some hits and misses in my anticipation of the strategies I saw. The elementary teachers didn't share my expectation of focusing on measurement and comparing those measurements. Instead, they made some useful comparisons between the record and second-best jumps. I also didn't anticipate the dot plots and fitted curves in the second poster. I know it's uneasy to underestimate the capabilities of elementary students, but these kinds of graphs were not something I anticipated their teachers producing. The middle school group used proportional reasoning, as I expected, but instead of MAD they used IQR as a reference for judging the two jump records. There was one "student" who quickly worked through some MAD calculations towards the end of the work time, but it was a bit late to fit into my selection strategy. For high school, the work was less differentiated and more advanced than I anticipated. Some of this can be attributed to just labeling the group "high school" rather than "9th grade" or "AP Stats."

I was able to practice my talk moves to some degree, but this artificial scenario was less than ideal. In the explore phase of the lesson my questions were generally met with speculation about student strategies, not answers as students might give them. That was great for us all to think through the task together, but it interrupted the flow of responses you'd expect with talk moves in a more typical classroom scenario.

The discussion in the summarize phase was pretty good. Not only did we compare strategies and connect ideas in the way I anticipated, there was a welcome amount of analysis of the task itself and the different layers of ambiguity in how the data was presented. For example, we don't know if the jumps all represent different jumpers, or if the jumps represent jumps in one vs. multiple competitions. We generally agreed that some amount of ambiguity would be good when using this task in a classroom, particularly to hit the "make sense of problems" part of SMP #1.

As part of the reflection I collected data in the form of a "self-check," created in the style of "practical measures" that we've used in our research projects. In hindsight, this data doesn't focus much on my choice of teaching practice (facilitating meaningful discourse), but I like the idea of asking students for feedback that go beyond mastery of content.


Link to Google Form

The responses are a bit difficult to interpret because I'm not sure how many participants responded as teachers versus the students they were sort-of-pretending to be. The results seem mostly positive, and I agree with the very last comment: While the task had reach across many grade levels, first grade was too much of a stretch.








References

Schwartz, D. L., & Martin, T. (2004). Inventing to prepare for future learning: The hidden efficiency of encouraging original student production in statistics instruction. Cognition and Instruction, 22(2), 129–184. http://doi.org/10.1207/s1532690xci2202_1

Smith, M. S., & Stein, M. K. (1998). Reflections on practice: Selecting and creating mathematical tasks: From research to practice. Mathematics Teaching in the Middle School, 3(5), 344–350.

A Menu for Making a Math Lesson Story

Lee Shulman
CC BY-NC Flickr
In my last post I talked about different types of lesson plans and suggested that one type, a lesson plan as a story, might have some benefit as a shareable unit of teaching.

When I think of teaching and what makes (or can make) it a profession, I think of attributes of professions described by Shulman (1998):
  • the obligation of a service to others, as in a "calling";
  • understanding of a scholarly or theoretical kind;
  • a domain of skilled performance or practice;
  • the exercise of judgment under conditions of unavoidable uncertainty;
  • the need for learning from experience as theory and practice intersect; and
  • a professional community to monitor quality and aggregate knowledge.
To support teaching as a profession, I value public displays of teaching that reflect Shulman's list of attributes. For the sharing of lesson plans, we can do better than over-templated, step-by-step, anyone-can-follow scripts. We can also do better than brief, make-of-it-what-you-will ideas that lack sufficient implementation guidance. In the stories we tell about teaching, we should seek some middle ground between an over-designed lesson template and an unstructured narrative. Since lesson stories are arguably more about the planning than the plan, they should focus on teacher decision-making and teacher practice, so that other teachers may learn from them. The minimal amount of structure to a lesson story probably starts with these four parts:
  1. A description of the context (grade level, class size, demographics, features of your school environment, etc.)
  2. The rationales behind your lesson planning (not just the choices you made, but why you made them)
  3. A description of the implementation (a low-inference description, mindful of the students' perspectives as participants, of the classroom activity, discussion, and work produced by students)
  4. A reflection (now with more inference, with a focus on how the decisions you made in planning played out in implementation and what that might mean for a lesson revision)

A Menu of Math Lesson Planning Resources

So far this is subject-neutral. In some subjects, rationales in lesson planning might have to be developed and explained from first principles. In mathematics education, however, we're fortunate to have an established body of knowledge related to planning and teaching. To plan a math lesson and then tell its story, I see four categories of resources that form a menu of options.

Planning Guide

For planning and describing the reasons for choices made in the lesson, choose one of the following:

Instructional Model

To structure the delivery of the lesson, choose one of the following:
Lecture and "I do, we do, you do" are also instructional models. They have their place but should probably be used somewhat sparingly. Besides, there probably isn't much demand for lesson plans that consist of a lecture.

Teaching Practice

Teaching is complex and teachers are engaged in many practices at once. However, for improving one's practice and communicating that in a story, it's best to focus on only one or two teaching practices described in NCTM's Principles to Actions:
  • Establish mathematics goals to focus learning.
  • Implement tasks that promote reasoning and problem solving.
  • Use and connect mathematical representations.
  • Facilitate meaningful discourse.
  • Pose purposeful questions.
  • Build procedural fluency from conceptual understanding.
  • Support productive struggle in learning mathematics.
  • Elicit and use evidence of student thinking.
For a different list of teaching practices, you could also consider the TeachingWorks high-leverage practices.

Reflection

In addition to using student work/activity in your reflection, choose from:

What We Gain

Suppose we choose resources from the menu above and tell our lesson story. What have we gained? We've built upon a body of knowledge that can help readers. To some extent, we already do this. When I hear a teacher say they taught a 3-Act Task, I immediately have some knowledge about the instructional model they used. When I hear a teacher say they planned a lesson using the 5 Practices, I know that means they took time to (among other things) anticipate student strategies. With a piece from each of these four categories there is still a lot of freedom to tell a lesson story, but the shared pieces communicate a lot about your lesson and provide a foundation for a common understanding across teachers.

Now, to refer back to my last post, let's think about the usefulness of lesson plan repositories again. Generally, lesson plan repositories are arranged by grade level, topic, and content standard. Instead, what if a repository allowed you to search based on the items in the menu? Imagine being able to search or filter by teaching practice, such as "Show me lessons in which the teacher focused on building procedural fluency from conceptual understanding." Or perhaps you're working with a new instructional coach, and you search for lessons in which the teacher had an observer use the SERP 5x8 Card. We stand to improve our signal-to-noise ratio considerably when teachers can look for lesson plans based on more than just lesson content, and the lessons they find are more likely to be a better "fit" if they are known to have a preferred planning guide, instructional model, teacher practice, or reflection tool.

Next post: I attempt to write a lesson story.

References

Shulman, L. S. (1998). Theory, practice, and the education of professionals. The Elementary School Journal, 98(5), 511–526.

On Lesson Plans and Lesson Planning

CC BY Brian Swartz, Flickr
As someone who studies teacher curriculum adaptation, Chris Lusto's post last summer, "Lessons for Other People," did a lot to get me thinking. Despite their imperfections, curriculum materials have a durability, scalability, and portability that many educational tools or innovations can only wish for. So why not try to preserve and share the evolution of curriculum materials as teachers make them less imperfect, using some kind of revision tracking system?

It turns out that this wasn't exactly a new idea (see here, for example) and there are probably sensible reasons we don't have such repositories yet. Dan Meyer gave us one big reason: Teachers don't seem to be keen on using off-the-shelf plans, especially when the signal-to-noise ratio ("just right" lessons to "ugh, move along" lessons) is frustratingly poor. There are also technical hurdles involved. We would need to get past (way, way past) discussions of JSON vs. TOML and other forms of engineering-speak. I see promise in things like Mike Caulfield's Wikity project, but then again, I'm geeky enough to run my own Mediawiki installation.

There are certainly new angles to explore on the repository front, but for them to be useful we need to get a better handle on what exactly we're putting in them. As far as I know, there isn't much in the research literature about teacher lesson planning. When I worked with preservice teachers, I taught them to use a lesson plan template to detail the objectives and activities of a lesson. But as a teacher myself, I'm not sure I ever filled out a multi-page template with a lot of details. There's a good reason for that, and it's not laziness — the context, purpose, and needs were quite different as a full-time teacher than for someone who is just beginning to learn to teach.

Especially useful to me in thinking about the difference in the purpose of lesson plans is the distinction of plans vs. planning, which Dan Meyer highlighted with a quote from Dwight Eisenhower:

This compliments my own thinking about design work in education: You must accept that much of the positive outcome can lie in engaging in the design process rather than in the thing or product that is ultimately designed. In other words, it's like the quote attributed to Bruce Joyce: We reinvent the wheel not because we need the wheels, but because we need the inventors. For some, this feels inefficient and wasteful, but I say you ignore it at your peril.

Types of Lesson Plans

So what are some different types of lesson plans? I've thought of three:

Lesson Plans as Scripts

Scripts and scripted lessons are loaded terms in education and the connotation is generally negative. I don't think it has to be negative, even though it certainly can be. When I say script, I'm thinking about a detailed, step-by-step description of what should be happening in a classroom, by whom, and at what times, similar to how the script of a play, TV show, or movie describes who is involved in a given scene, the actions they should take, and what they're expected to say. Just as scripted TV differs in quality, scripted lessons can vary in quality also, and they have the potential to be very good.

The most scripted lesson plans I wrote as a teacher were those for substitute teachers. If I had to be away from my students but I still wanted quality work to be done while I was gone, the best I could do was write a very detailed lesson script and hope the substitute could make their way through it.

Lesson Plans as Ideas or Reminders

When teachers plan for themselves, in the context of teaching a thousand lessons a year, many rely on a sparse set of reminders that aren't intended for use by any other teacher. Because of this, we shouldn't be quick to judge the quality of a lesson by this kind of lesson plan. Just because a lesson plan says no more than "Section 4.5, swap out baseball task for the closer, assign evens" does not mean the lesson will be good or bad. There's not enough there to judge, because the lesson wasn't designed for judging.

In conversations around lesson plans last summer, I saw teachers saying they wanted ideas more than scripts. I think part of this is because lesson plans in the form of ideas and reminders are what most teachers use most of the time, and therefore it feels familiar and flexible. I do wonder, though, how well this would really work in practice. The intent of one teacher's notes may or may not be understood by another teacher, and a repository full of lesson ideas might suffer the same low-signal, high-noise problem we have now.

Lesson Plans as Stories

I think there's a third kind of lesson plan, one that puts the planning at the forefront and the plan in the background. These lessons are written so that the reader can think along with the writer and learn from their decisions, rather than follow their instructions. These lessons take the form of a teaching case study or reflection, rather than a script or set of reminders.

Learning to teach through case studies was described by Shulman (1986), so it's far from a new idea. Shulman proposed case knowledge as a form of teacher knowledge, and he proposed (and later led research on) the development of prototype cases designed for teacher learning. Still, it doesn't seem to be the kind of lesson plan you're likely to find in current repositories. Thankfully, I know of two examples in math ed: The lesson descriptions from Jennifer Wilson and Jaime Duncan.

Take for example this lesson from Jennifer on coordinate geometry. It reads like a story: "I found a task, it relates to a standard, here's what I think students will do, here's some of the work they actually did, and here are some things that did and did not go as planned along the way." Jennifer's post is way more than just an idea, and has the detail of the script without any of the "Step 1, do this, Step 2, do that" feeling. Importantly, the students are not left to the imagination. They are seen, heard, and described. I see a lot of similar qualities from Jamie's posts, such as this lesson on fractions in first grade.

Pros and Cons

Here's a quick recap of what I see in these three kinds of plans:

Lessons as: Pros Cons Effort to Implement
Scripts Detailed; Greater chance of implementation as intended Feels restrictive; context-unaware Lower
Ideas Short; A seed from which other ideas can grow; adaptable Interpretations vary widely; Quality difficult to judge; Still requires a lot of planning and decision-making Higher
Stories Experience a lesson second-hand; think along with lesson designer Stories can be long, complex, and inconsistent in form Between Low and High

I think lesson plans as stories have real promise as a shareable unit of teaching. They focus more on planning and reflection, and they may help teachers who use them plan and reflect on their own lessons. However, it feels to me that the stories could benefit from some structure and common elements. After all, there's been way too much good work in the field of mathematics teaching to think everyone writing a lesson story should start from scratch and make up everything as they go along. A free-for-all approach doesn't help the writer or the reader. In my next post, I'll lay out a plan for telling a lesson story that I think has some structure without feeling too much like a template.

A Madness to Our Methods

How do I learn to teach people to use this stuff?
When I was an undergraduate majoring in mathematics teaching, I got quite a bit of practice teaching, studying curriculum, writing lessons, and other things I'd be expected to do as a teacher. But now, as a PhD candidate in mathematics education, I'm not getting similar training to become a teacher educator. I've done a little teaching of introductory classes for math and science preservice teachers, but that's about it, and I don't think my experience here at CU-Boulder is an exception. Here and elsewhere, how you teach undergrads is still largely something you're supposed to figure out on your own.

It may not be long before I have a job that involves me teaching "methods" courses. I look forward to that opportunity, but dread the feeling that I'd be creating such courses essentially from scratch. It's happened to a few colleagues of mine, and it seems a bit silly that we folks in curriculum and instruction don't have more organization and purposeful, shared design in our curriculum and instruction for preservice teacher methods courses.

Here at CU-Boulder we have a math and science seminar that meets about every three weeks and the topics of the seminar change year to year. This year, pushed by myself and a few others, some of us (including @jybuell) are studying the design of methods courses in math and science. As a first step, we're looking at what others are doing elsewhere, and here's where I'd like some help. Do you have a syllabus or story to share about methods classes you've taught or taken? If you send those my way (to raymond@mathed.net) or comment about them in the comments, I'll continue to write about what I find and learn as the year progresses, and hope to have methods course lesson plans and scope and sequence documents to share by the end of the year.

Education, Neuroscience, and Tangled Webs We Weave

I'm far from the first to point this out, but some of us in the education game hold some ill-informed beliefs about the brain and what it should mean to us as teachers. These are known as "neuromyths" and there's even an organization, the International Mind, Brain and Education Society, working to improve how educators use knowledge from neuroscience. A study by Dekker, Lee, Howard-Jones, and Jones (2012) in the Netherlands found that when given 32 statements about the brain, 15 of which were myths, on average teachers believed in about 50% of the myths. I doubt teachers in the United States would fare any better, given what I see about left brain vs. right brain, "learning styles," and "only use 10%" nonsense.

Even though there is more communication than ever on peer-reviewed brain research, a lot of that communication distorts the science and ends up spreading or creating new neuromyths (Howard-Jones, 2014). What does that distortion look like? I present to you two examples, where something I saw on social media referring to the brain ended up linking back to research with claims that looked quite different.

Example One: "Your Brain Grew"

Yesterday +Joshua Fisher  pointed out this tweet:
Being sensitive to neuromyths, I admit I poked a little fun at this tweet-length, out-of-context claim. Rightly, +Paul Hartzer called me out and suggested I search for some context, such as this:

http://tvoparents.tvo.org/HH/making-mistakes

I immediately went for the "growing evidence" link, which took me to this:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-science-willpower/201112/how-mistakes-can-make-you-smarter

As this was a review of two studies, I dove down to the reference section and tracked down the research. The first, by Moser et al. (2011), had this abstract:

Abstract:
How well people bounce back from mistakes depends on their beliefs about learning and intelligence. For individuals with a growth mind-set, who believe intelligence develops through effort, mistakes are seen as opportunities to learn and improve. For individuals with a fixed mind-set, who believe intelligence is a stable characteristic, mistakes indicate lack of ability. We examined performance-monitoring event-related potentials (ERPs) to probe the neural mechanisms underlying these different reactions to mistakes. Findings revealed that a growth mind-set was associated with enhancement of the error positivity component (Pe), which reflects awareness of and allocation of attention to mistakes. More growth-minded individuals also showed superior accuracy after mistakes compared with individuals endorsing a more fixed mind-set. It is critical to note that Pe amplitude mediated the relationship between mind-set and posterror accuracy. These results suggest that neural mechanisms indexing on-line awareness of and attention to mistakes are intimately involved in growth-minded individuals' ability to rebound from mistakes.
This sounds familiar to those who know things about growth vs. fixed mindsets, and shows that growth mindsets are associated with some brain activity that we don't see with fixed mindsets. So maybe brain "growth" doesn't happen to everyone. The second article, by Downar, Bhatt, and Montague (2011), is even more neuroscience-y:

Abstract:
Accurate associative learning is often hindered by confirmation bias and success-chasing, which together can conspire to produce or solidify false beliefs in the decision-maker. We performed functional magnetic resonance imaging in 35 experienced physicians, while they learned to choose between two treatments in a series of virtual patient encounters. We estimated a learning model for each subject based on their observed behavior and this model divided clearly into high performers and low performers. The high performers showed small, but equal learning rates for both successes (positive outcomes) and failures (no response to the drug). In contrast, low performers showed very large and asymmetric learning rates, learning significantly more from successes than failures; a tendency that led to sub-optimal treatment choices. Consistently with these behavioral findings, high performers showed larger, more sustained BOLD responses to failed vs. successful outcomes in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and inferior parietal lobule while low performers displayed the opposite response profile. Furthermore, participants' learning asymmetry correlated with anticipatory activation in the nucleus accumbens at trial onset, well before outcome presentation. Subjects with anticipatory activation in the nucleus accumbens showed more success-chasing during learning. These results suggest that high performers' brains achieve better outcomes by attending to informative failures during training, rather than chasing the reward value of successes. The differential brain activations between high and low performers could potentially be developed into biomarkers to identify efficient learners on novel decision tasks, in medical or other contexts.
Now we're talking about some brain activity, but the results aren't so simple. Take-away? A group of doctors who performed well on a task had brains that appeared to respond better to failure, while low-performing doctors didn't. Also, don't overlook the last bit: This study is less about finding better teaching than it is about identifying biomarkers that indicate who might be more easily taught. That's an important difference — teachers don't get to scan kids in fMRI machines and only teach the best of the lot.

Example Two: Common Core is Bad for Your Brain

Last year Lane Walker pointed me to this claim in a post on LinkedIn:

https://www.linkedin.com/groups/Did-anyone-get-any-interesting-4204066.S.5912659047466680321

Curious (and very skeptical), I followed the link to find this:

https://peter5427.wordpress.com/2014/08/28/stanford-study-common-core-is-bad-for-the-brain/

That post was referencing this article on Fox News:

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2014/08/18/kids-brains-reorganize-when-learning-math-skills/

A search for the actual research took me to an article by Qin et al. (2014) with this abstract:

Abstract:
The importance of the hippocampal system for rapid learning and memory is well recognized, but its contributions to a cardinal feature of children's cognitive development—the transition from procedure-based to memory-based problem-solving strategies—are unknown. Here we show that the hippocampal system is pivotal to this strategic transition. Longitudinal functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) in 7–9-year-old children revealed that the transition from use of counting to memory-based retrieval parallels increased hippocampal and decreased prefrontal-parietal engagement during arithmetic problem solving. Longitudinal improvements in retrieval-strategy use were predicted by increased hippocampal-neocortical functional connectivity. Beyond childhood, retrieval-strategy use continued to improve through adolescence into adulthood and was associated with decreased activation but more stable interproblem representations in the hippocampus. Our findings provide insights into the dynamic role of the hippocampus in the maturation of memory-based problem solving and establish a critical link between hippocampal-neocortical reorganization and children's cognitive development.
As I suspected, the neuroscience really had nothing to do with Common Core or how to teach math. It just found out which part of the brain became more active as children increase their ability to do things from memory. That should sound exciting if you're a neuroscientist, but pretty useless if you're a teacher.

Why We Have Theories of Learning

Like a predictable telephone game, you can see how research gets distorted as it morphs its way through news articles, blog posts, and social media posts. You could criticize me for not quite backtracking all the way to the source, as I'm only referring to abstracts and not digging deeply into the research described and cited in the articles themselves. To take that last step, frankly, requires more of a neuroscience background than I possess. I don't expect that of myself, and wouldn't expect a teacher to do that, either. Daniel Willingham wrote about this a few years ago, and acknowledged the role of institutions like schools of education to collectively make sense of such research and make it useful for teachers. There are people like Jo Boaler who are doing this work. I admire her for taking on the challenge of making complex ideas understandable and appealing to a wide audience of educators, and I'm sure every day she thinks hard about what messages she has to craft and how she has to craft them. It's tricky work.

My hope for teachers is this: When you hear claims about the brain and what they mean for your teaching, be skeptical. Avoid the possibility that you'll be fooled by the next big neuromyth. Realize that a lot of neuroscience relies on placing individuals in an fMRI machine and observing their brain activity while they perform a task. Is that cool science? You bet it is. Does this kind of research capture the context and complexity of your classroom? It does not.

Instead, understand and appreciate why education and related fields have theories of learning that don't rely on knowing what the brain does. In general, theories of construcivism don't go into detail about what's happening at the synapse level, nor do they need to. Cognitive theories use schema to theorize what's going on in the head, but no fMRI machines are necessary. Situated and sociocultural theories of learning gain their usefulness not by trying to look inside the learner's head, but rather outward to that learner's environment, the tools they use, the communities they participate in, and how culture and history shape their activity. So teachers, focus on that — focus on the culture of your classroom, how your students participate, and the learning community you support. Focus on how a carefully constructed curriculum, well-enacted, supports a trajectory of student learning. It will get you much further than neuromyths.

References

Dekker, S., Lee, N. C., Howard-Jones, P., & Jolles, J. (2012). Neuromyths in education: Prevalence and predictors of misconceptions among teachers. Frontiers in Psychology, (Oct), 1–8. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2012.00429 Retrieved from http://journal.frontiersin.org/article/10.3389/fpsyg.2012.00429/full

Downar, J., Bhatt, M., & Montague, P. (2011). Neural correlates of effective learning in experienced medical decision-makers. PLoS ONE. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0027768 Retrieved from http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0027768

Howard-Jones, P. A. (2014). Neuroscience and education: Myths and messages. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 15, 817–824. doi:10.1038/nrn3817 Retrieved from http://www.nature.com/nrn/journal/v15/n12/full/nrn3817.html

Moser, J., Schroder, H., Heeter, C., Moran, T., & Lee, Y. (2011). Mind your errors: Evidence for a neural mechanism linking growth mind-set to adaptive posterror adjustments. Psychological Science, 22(12), 1484-1489. doi:10.1177/0956797611419520 Retrieved from http://pss.sagepub.com/content/22/12/1484

Qin, S., Cho, S., Chen, T., Rosenberg-Lee, M. Geary, D., & Menon, V. (2014) Hippocampal-neocortical functional reorganization underlies children's cognitive development. Nature Neuroscience, 17, 1263-1269. doi:10.1038/nn.3788 Retrieved from http://www.nature.com/neuro/journal/v17/n9/abs/nn.3788.html

NCTM's Grand Challenge

This post first appeared at CLIME Connections. I thank Ihor Charischak (@climeguy) for reaching out and encouraging me to think more deeply about these issues, and for letting me repost this here.

The Old and the New

NCTM has a generation gap problem.

What Dan was noticing at the 2013 NCTM Annual Meeting may not have been just about age, but age is a big part of it. During a session at the 2014 NCTM Annual Meeting, Jon Wray reported that the median age of an NCTM member is 57.5 years. 57.5 years! I personally have a fondness for NCTM veterans and enjoy the history of mathematics education, but a median of 57.5 is big when compared to the current distribution of teacher ages, where we see a median age closer to 40-42 and a modal age of about 30:

(Source: Ingersoll, Merrill, & Stuckey, 2014)

This age difference is noteworthy for NCTM because older generations, like those in the upper half of NCTM's membership, tend to be relatively loyal to their institutions. But that's not the case for younger generations that now comprise the bulk of new teachers. Millennials often fail to find relevance in institutions, or they share in Generation X's tendencies towards institutional mistrust. Claims like these are symptomatic of NCTM's challenge:

It's not that Millennials don't value the power of being organized — they just tend to use the internet and social media to organize rather than rely on help from established organizations. An increasing number of math teachers are using Twitter and other social networks to organize themselves in both less- and more-formal ways. There might be no better example of self-organization than "Twitter Math Camp," an institution-free math conference where attendees tend to be young, connected, and not members of NCTM. (Attendees also tended to be very white and male, even more so than for the profession as a whole. That's a challenge for TMC and our social networks.)

The degree to which NCTM understands the changing needs of its membership is not entirely clear. On the one hand, NCTM does have an organizational social media presence (Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn) as well as blogs and social media accounts for their teacher journals (TCM, MTMS, and MT). Yet, not so long ago, members of NCTM's Research Committee appeared unaware that such tools could be used for connecting with teachers. In a 2012 report, the committee's recommended strategies for reporting research to teachers focused on journal-based publications and conferences. There were zero mentions of the internet, the WWW, blogs, social media, virtual teacher communities, or anything that would have distinguished their recommendations from plans NCTM might have formulated in the 1980s or before. While the committee's recommendations for how research gets reported in their journals and at their conferences might be sound, an assumption that math teachers will be loyal journal-reading, conference-attending members is not. NCTM's grand challenge is not to refine how well it preaches to its choir.

Thankfully, NCTM is not monolithic and some clearly understand the challenge NCTM faces in being relevant to the various needs of young math teachers. Peg Cagle is one of the better-connected members of NCTM's Board of Directors (Jon Wray is another), and if you click through to see the replies to Peg's question, you'll see a lot about what teachers want and what they feel NCTM is currently providing.

Beyond Content

In 2010 Google's Eric Schmidt famously claimed that every two days we create as much information as we did from the rise of civilization through 2003. While the accuracy of such a statement is difficult to establish, there's no doubt that we are awash with content.

Included in all this content are materials for math teachers, such as curriculum materials, lesson plan sites, instructional videos, test generators, and other teachers' reflections on their practice. What's more, this content is cheaper, more abundant, and more accessible than ever before. When math teachers perceive NCTM mostly as a provider of journals and conferences, NCTM risks becoming just another (and more expensive) content source in a vast sea of content sources. The quality of NCTM's resources certainly helps their cause, but we shouldn't ignore the possibility that people sometimes settle for good enough when they can get something easily at low or no cost. For all its journals and all its conferences, NCTM's game can't be to out-content the rest of the internet.

The internet has spawned many disruptive innovations and NCTM is one of many institutions facing challenges in this content-rich era. Traditional news media is similarly challenged to attract younger subscribers/readers/viewers who are accustomed to using the internet as an abundant source of news coverage, much of which is localized, specialized, and free. We've seen traditional news organizations experiment with variations of familiar revenue strategies, such as targeted advertising and freemium subscription models, but some think it's time for a more fundamental shift in how news media serves the public.

One of my favorite thinkers on the future of news is Jeff Jarvis, a journalism professor, blogger, and podcaster. Recently, Jeff has been working to answer the question, "Now that the internet has ruined news, what now?" Jeff has partly given his answer to this question in a five-part series (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) on Medium as he writes his way towards a new book due out in November. At the core of Jeff's vision is a service-oriented journalism based on relationships, where content is just a means to that end, not the end itself. Journalists would position themselves to work closely with communities, privileging community knowledge instead of acting as the content authority and gatekeeper. Social media would be a key tool for building and maintaining these relationships, as Jeff describes in this selection from Part 2 of his essay:

Now we have more tools at hand that enable communities to communicate directly. So perhaps our first task in expanding journalism’s service should be to offer platforms that enable individuals and communities to seek, reveal, gather, share, organize, analyze, understand, and use their own information — or to use the platforms that already exist to enable that. The internet has proven to be good at helping communities inform themselves, sharing what’s happening via Twitter, what’s known via Wikipedia, and what matters to people through conversational tools — comments, blog posts, and tweets that, never mind their frequent banality and repetition and sometimes incivility, do nevertheless tap the cultural consciousness.

To be clear, Jeff isn't saying journalists should just be replaced by the public sharing of information. Journalists can add value to the community's knowledge by raising new questions, adding context, bringing experts into the conversation, fact-checking, and performing other duties long-associated with quality journalism. What's different, says Jeff, is that "simply distributing information is no longer our monopoly as gatekeepers and no longer a proper use of our scarce resources." Content doesn't go away, but it takes on a supporting role for journalists focused on maintaining personal relationships with their community and its members.

I may be overestimating the similarities between challenges faced by news organizations and by a professional teaching association. But where visions for the future are concerned, I think Jeff Jarvis's service-oriented, relationship-based model for journalism may also be a promising model for NCTM. When I re-read Jeff's essays and mentally substitute "NCTM" for "journalism" or "news," I start to imagine a different kind of NCTM focused on privileging and coordinating the knowledge and relationships of a community of math teachers, one in which journals and conferences are merely seen by members as means, not the ends.

What Now for NCTM

I may be guilty of armchair quarterbacking. I also may be guilty of underestimating how much NCTM members already feel part of a strong professional community built on relationships. During the same panel at which Jon Wray mentioned NCTM's median age was 57.5, he also proudly expressed that he thought of NCTM as a collection of members he could refer to as "we" or "us." That's great for Jon and like-minded members, but that's not where NCTM's grand challenge lies. The challenge is with those who see NCTM as an "it" or a "they," likely young teachers who only associate NCTM with conferences they might not attend and publications they might not read.

I do not profess to be an expert in relationship-building, nor do I believe there to be easy answers. That's part of what makes this a grand challenge. That said, here are a few ideas for moving forward:

  • Don't be faceless. NCTM's blogs and social media accounts are a good start, but to build strong relationships we need to associate with each other as individuals, not as product titles. For example, instead of a @MT_at_NCTM Twitter presence to represent the journal, NCTM needs the editors and authors of Mathematics Teacher to represent themselves online as individuals. The same goes for board members, NCTM staff, and anyone else who identifies with the organization. It's easier to build trust with a person than a brand, and in my two years of helping teachers develop criteria to identify quality resources, I still don't think any indicator of resource quality matters more to a teacher than to have a recommendation from an individual they trust.
  • Find teachers where they are. Perhaps a time existed when it would have made sense for NCTM to build its own social networking site, but that time has passed. We should leverage the networks that already exist and find the teachers there. Some math teachers already use social media for professional reasons and would be easily engaged by NCTM. Other teachers of mathematics, who may only use social media for personal reasons, number in the tens and potentially hundreds of thousands. They may or may not be NCTM members, or regularly interact with other teachers online, but they exist. NCTM needs to organize its membership so that we seek these teachers out, show them that we care, and offer our support.
  • Don't just push, listen. The most common behavior I currently see in NCTM's social media streams is pushing content. To again use @MT_at_NCTM as an example, instead of just pushing out a daily link to an article or calendar problem, show that you're listening to the community. Talk to teachers about what they need and want. Use the journal to respond to these needs and show the community that you're listening. When there's a new article to share, arrange for the authors to engage in discussions and Q&As around what they've written. Again, engage as individuals, and use the @MT_at_NCTM account (and likewise, the other journal social media accounts, blogs, etc.) to highlight and point people to these community interactions.
  • Build a thank you economy and know your members. NCTM should take a few pages from Gary Vaynerchuck's playbook and establish a "thank you economy" with its members. Gary's current business is helping brands with their marketing, focusing more on listening and thanking than with pushing and closing deals. The language Gary uses in his keynotes is NSFW and his message is bold. Here's a 10 minute version and hour-long version of Gary's talks. (Note that these are 3-4 years old but still sound cutting edge. On Gary's clock, that means the next big thing is probably already here.) Gary is a big believer in knowing your customers and using that knowledge to show how much you care. Imagine an NCTM that used social media to know more about you as a teacher — the subjects you were teaching, the textbooks you have, the length of your class period, nuances in your state and local standards, etc., and used that information to help you in ways very specific to your needs. That kind of listening and caring about teachers as individuals builds loyalty.
  • Play matchmaker. At both the AERA and NCTM Annual Meetings this year I heard someone say something like, "We need a match.com for connecting teachers who want to work together" or "We need a website that connects teachers who want to work with researchers." Along with knowing teachers well enough to match them with relevant content and material resources, NCTM should know enough about its membership to connect members with each other.
  • Guide teachers towards mastery. In a 2001 article in Teachers College Record, Sharon Feiman-Nemser discusses what a continuum of teacher education might look like if it began with preservice teachers and continued through the early years of teaching. This continuum would need mentorship and induction programs better than what we have now and, most importantly, someone to coordinate teacher learning across university and school boundaries. For math teachers, NCTM might be the organization that could make this happen. If NCTM knew the strengths and weaknesses of teacher preparation programs, and of individual graduates, and knew more about those individual teachers' needs and experiences, they could position themselves as the facilitator/provider of high-quality, ongoing professional development for teachers. Examples: Maybe I'm a new teacher hired to teach 7th grade, but I student taught with 11th graders — NCTM could build my 1st-year PD around video cases with 7th graders. Maybe my teacher education program was strong in its approach to formative assessment — NCTM could provide support in furthering my practice instead of starting back at the basics. Maybe I switched states for my new teaching position — NCTM could help me better understand how teaching math is different in my new place, and what's worked well for other teachers making a similar move. Yes, this is that big data stuff that scares some people, but I'm not sure the size of the data matters much when it leads to something genuinely helpful.

These are just some ideas. Others will have different perspectives on NCTM's challenges and possible ways to meet them, but I hope this either starts or adds to conversations about math teaching as a profession and we should value in our professional organizations. While I understand why some teachers aren't members of NCTM, I think math teaching is a stronger profession with a strong NCTM. It's a better "we" than a "they." This stronger NCTM lies in a new generation of math teachers, ones who I believe are willing to connect and collaborate as part of an organization committed to forming relationships with them and amongst them, not just providing content to them.

On Major Problems and Grand Challenges, Part 2

Prompted by NCTM's call for "grand challenges," in my last post I looked back at Hans Freudenthal's 1981 "Major Problems" paper. We've made progress in the past 30+ years, and we should recognize that. But that doesn't mean other challenges don't await us, and in this post I'll look at some suggestions made by some fellow bloggers. If this looks like "armchair challenging" it's probably because it is, rambling commentary and all.

Before I continue, it's worth noting that all four bloggers I found writing on this topic are white males. (And I am, too.) If this doesn't bring to mind a grand challenge for the future of math education, I don't know what should.

Robert Talbert: Grand Challenges for Mathematics Education

Robert's first suggestion is to develop an open curriculum for high school and early college. Sure, we've had many curriculum projects, but I can't say I've seen many that try to seamlessly span high school and college. It makes me realize that textbook companies typically package things in ways that align with the jurisdictions of district decision-makers, but there's really no reason it has to be that way.

We currently have some open curriculum projects that might give us a start on this challenge, such as the Mathematics Vision Project out of Utah and the EngageNY materials from New York. I say "give us a start" for two reasons: neither set of materials are very mature (and thus quality can be suspect) and such a project should plan for the evolution and improvement of the materials over time.

Side story: I was having dinner this summer with a retired mathematics education professor and she was telling me about her experiences volunteering to help tutor kids at a local high school. Our conversation went like this:

Her: "I didn't recognize the materials they were using, but they're a mess. It's something they found online and I don't know who put it together, but it looks like different people wrote adjacent lessons and never talked to each other, because there were big jumps from one topic to another with no explanation."

Me: "Let me guess. Are the materials from New York?"

Her: "No, Utah."

Me: "That was my second guess. And your guess about different people writing different lessons without much coordination is a very good guess of what probably happened."

Robert's second and third challenges involve the creation and use of concept inventories for mathematics, like the force concept inventory (FCI) for physics. I hear this get discussed occasionally and I'm aware of some efforts for inventories in calculus and statistics, but they aren't nearly as well recognized or used as the FCI. What's the advantage of having these inventories? They tend to make for great pre-post tests for a course or to judge if a particular teaching approach is better for students' conceptual understanding. Last week I attended a talk by Stephen Pollock who talked about his work in physics education research and the improved results we're getting in CU's physics program. The FCI played a key role in that progress, as it allowed professors to self-monitor their courses and compare their results to others who were attempting to improve their teaching. These kinds of standardized assessment tools could be equally useful and powerful in mathematics departments, especially when used in a self-monitoring sort of way instead of the all-too-common external-and-top-down-accountability-enforcing sort of way.

Robert's last recommendation is to have a preprint server for math education research. As he notes, this is a road we've tried to go down before and we didn't get very far. I don't think the problem has nearly as much to do with policy or categories of the arXiv as it does with the lack of a "preprint culture" in mathematics education. What I learned in those previous preprint discussions, and in my observations as a developing scholar, is that math educators regularly and happily share work in progress — with a select group of people. In math ed, there doesn't seem to be widespread faith in anything like Linus' Law, the open source software dictum that says, "With enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow." I think the math wars led to a lot of distrust, and some of it is very rational. It's safer to only share preliminary work with a few scholars who share similar methods and theoretical frameworks, and then refine the work after peer review before publication in a journal whose readership is likely to understand the work. Maybe it shouldn't be this way, but to move forward we're going to have to confront some of these beliefs.

Patrick Honner: My Grand Challenge for Mathematics Education

Patrick described in some detail a single grand challenge: "Build and maintain a free, comprehensive, modular, and adaptable repository of learning materials for all secondary mathematics content." It's worth reading his post and the comments. This challenge hits close to home for me because it touches on my own research, including the difficulty of coordinating distributed curriculum development and the infrastructure needed to support the customization of curriculum.

I've always been intrigued by the concept of "modular and adaptable" curriculum materials. Personally, I thought I did my best work as a teacher when I offloaded my curriclum to a high-quality textbook that I'd been trained to use. That's an anathema to many math teachers who take improvisation of curriculum to be a sign of quality teaching. (It's not, by the way. There can be good and bad improvisation, just as there can be good and bad offloading.) I tried writing my own curriculum for a while and found it exhausting and ineffective. In a couple hours per day, I just couldn't create from scratch anything that I thought was as good as the texts coming from university-based curriculum teams with decades of experience and millions of dollars of funding. Go figure. I got better results when I leveraged the rigor and coherence of a text that integrated topics, contexts, tools, and routines across its lessons and units.

With enough effort, however, Patrick's recommendation could lead to a set of materials that are both modular and coherent. I've always seen these in opposition, a sort of "textbook paradox." I speculate that teachers who value being able to adapt and improvise with their curriculum will resist or find ineffective those textbooks built around coherence. It's relatively straightforward to replace a lesson in a very traditional textbook that relies on an isolated set of examples and practice problems. But for reform-based materials, such as IMP, CPM, and Everyday Math, skipping around in the textbook can lead to trouble. Saxon texts, for that matter, with their use of "incremental development," should make a teacher think twice before skipping or improvising a lesson. Thus, the paradox: teachers who want to improve the quality of their curriculum materials probably have an easier time adapting materials that are lower quality to begin with, but if they start with higher-quality materials, adaptation can sacrifice coherence and make adaptation more difficult.

Adaptation can still be done with any curriculum, but it takes skill. Currently, that skill must come almost entirely from the teacher, as the texts aren't smart enough to know what you've been skipping. Take Patrick's challenge far enough, however, and maybe we could have a curriculum that is smart enough to know what you've used and not used. Imagine a statistics curriculum that automatically modifies tasks to use a preferred data set, or a system that reminds you that you should probably include a lesson and practice with mean absolute deviation prior to teaching standard deviation. Or, for algebra, imagine a system that let you decide whether to teach exponential functions before or after quadratics, with the curriculum being smart enough to recommend appropriate modeling tasks. When I helped a school pilot Accelerated Math in 1999 and used the exprience as my student teaching action research project, I really thought we were on the cusp of a wave of "smart curriclum" that would help build coherence into teacher-adapted curriculum. We're not there yet, but a challenge like the one Patrick describes could get us much closer.

David Wees: Grand Challenge for NCTM

David's grand challenges focuses more on people than materials: "Develop a comprehensive, national professional development model that supports the high quality mathematics instruction they have been promoting for many years." ("They" refers to NCTM.) David breaks this challenge into bullet points around the development and scaling of "core practices."

I'm a firm believer in this idea. I get resistance from those who love the creative and spontaneous aspects of teaching, but I think that learning to teach should involve the learning and practicing of key teaching practices. Thankfully, there are some very good people working in this area. Until recently, their efforts were somewhat scattered and referred to with such names as "high-leverage practices" or "ambitious teaching." Thankfully, at AERA this past spring, many of the heavy hitters doing this work came together to address the need for a common language around these practices and supporting their development and use. For a good idea of what a list of core practices might look like, check out the Teaching Works project from the University of Michigan. I have a hard time finding anything on that list that doesn't seem essential to quality teaching, and it reminds me that the list is really the easy part. The real work comes in developing those practices in preservice and inservice teachers, and I'm glad that David had his mind on that development when he articulated his grand challenge.

Bryan Meyer:

Bryan's challenge isn't math-specific but it could help a lot of math teachers. Our expectations for teacher collaboration exceed our opportunities, and changing this involves a lot of people and resources. In some countries there are limits to how many student contact hours a teacher can have because they are expected to be collaborating with or observing other teachers for several hours each day. What if we did that in the United States? We'd have to seriously rethink our resources. Suppose you currently teach six periods a day with about 24 students in each class. What if you only taught four periods with 36 students in each class, and you had the extra two periods to work with other teachers to ensure your instruction in those four periods was better? (For those of you who already have 36 students in your classes and are working out even larger classes in your heads, I'm sorry.) Or, instead of changing class sizes, what if salaries were lowered to accommodate the hiring of extra teachers?

While these questions suggest difficult choices, they do seem like questions that could be answered with adequate research, and maybe there exists some research already that could help us answer them. Still, research in education isn't always very effective at changing school cultures or how resources are allocated. I don't want to sound too pessimistic, but I'm thinking that Bryan's challenge is going to have to focus as much on understanding and developing cultures of collaboration amongst teachers as it would scheduling and resource allocations.

Parting Thoughts

While it may have been personally beneficial for me to put a couple thousand words into a grand challenge I thought about on my own, I realize that our best hopes for meeting a grand challenge come when we share and push each other's ideas. As a student of curriculum and instruction, I find much to like in Robert and Patrick's thoughts about curriculum and David and Bryan's thoughts about instruction. There's some really meaty stuff there.

I've also tried to think about what wasn't mentioned as a challenge. Nobody said, "I really think we need to better understand how students think about ratio/functions/number/proof/etc." While people are hard at work on such questions, I don't think there's any widespread perception that a lack of research in specific areas of student mathematical understanding is what is holding us back. (If there's a challenge I should be writing about, it's about the dissemination and use of this information.) I'm also happy to see that people weren't writing challenges involving new sets of academic standards. It's rather unfortunate that so much energy is being put into debating Common Core when it seems quite likely that standards account for little of the variability in student outcomes. We have a list of stuff we want students to learn. Fine. I'm ready to focus more of our efforts on the learning, not the list.

Lastly, to touch briefly on the challenge I hinted at near the top of this post, I didn't see any equity-focused grand challenges. I think I speak for Robert, Patrick, David, and Bryan when I say we all believe in achieving equitable participation and outcomes in mathematics education. Then again, we can't just say that and expect equity to come about by accident. There are elements of each challenge mentioned that could be used to promote equity, but it's going to take a more explicit focus than we've given it. In fact, maybe the first step is to significantly change the representation implied when I say "we." It seems simple enough, but privilege has a way of producing thoughts of "for" and "to" instead of "with," and that's a challenge for the kinds of people and organizations who pose challenges.