Saturday, March 19, 2016

The Film Room: Scientific Artistry Part II

Baseball season is around the corner. It's an amazing game. A game that appeals to those who have played, those who watch, and those who love math. For those that have played there is a certain feel, a memory, of standing in the batter's box. A moment staring down towards the pitcher, waiting, anticipating, the quick inhale as the ball comes and the energy as one unloads the bat. An insatiable sequence in which all that exists is a pitcher, yourself, and a ball hurling towards you. It is something that pulls you back towards the game whether you are 14 or 54. As an observer, there is a dramatic artistry that plays in front of you. After the initial batting sequence, this small white pellet is flung into the field. At times we see routine plays in which one sits under the ball and waits patiently for it to fall from the sky. At other times we see acrobatics as shortstops dive and flip for the ball or outfielders run as if they were gazelles streaking across the field eventually climbing the wall to grasp the ball before it lands. A play that moves from quiet stillness to dramatic exuberance in a heartbeat.

The interesting thing is that baseball offices are no longer run by former players, experts in the action, but now mathematicians. Graduates from Harvard, Yale, and Amherst. Computer nerds who run statistical models and probability. Individuals that loved the game but may not have been able to play it very well. They have charts, graphs, regression analysis, and spread diagrams. They know what area of the strike zone to swing and when to walk away. Baseball leaders, who are essentially mathematical gamblers, measuring payoffs of certain types of risks in relationship to the impact on winning. Within these models, there too is an elegance, exuberance, and energy. These are the leaders choosing rosters, guiding decisions, and facilitating the game.

Education has become full of metrics. Comparable data points in which we believe we can measure student development, teacher impact, programatic impact, and learning engagement. We create opportunities for student goals, teacher goals, administrative goals, and district goals. Measurable items that analyze change over periods of time. Metrics break things down into components and assume these pieces add up to a greater whole.

Carlos Quentin, like many baseball players, was a very analytical individual. He was constantly watching film, making adjustments, thinking about his swing. He consistently looked at metrics and was known for overthinking each at bat and each performance. Carlos constantly analyzed himself, seeking data on how much he could improve. This journey consistently had him underperforming his talent. He was known as an uptight, super focused individual. However, in 2008, as a member of the Chicago White Sox, Carlos was having a career year. It all seemed to be coming together. He was hitting .286 with 36 home runs when batting against Cliff Lee he became so frustrated with one of his swings that he punched his bat. Carlos broke his wrist, loosing the season and never regaining MVP form again.

More and more we are teaching students and teachers to focus on the metrics. It is an important, valuable, and dangerous path. A child focusing on a time-bound achievement goal may become so mechanical, that they lose the flow and ease of the product. Imagine a young reader, focusing on how many words per minute they can read. Focusing so much on speed that they lose comprehension. Imagine a teacher driven by the same words per minute metric that they don't halt the child so they can make their evaluation goal.

Metrics are becoming our film room. Ways in which we are analyzing and at times overanalyzing our practice. Metrics are valuable as they tell us about what we are seeing on the field and in the classroom, but they are only one measure of the art before us. In the end, it is the art and the game that matter, not simply the mathematical performance predictors.



Saturday, March 5, 2016

The Day I Saw Courage

In the 80's we learned courage was going in face first against all odds. Courage was standing up to the impossible. All of the movies glorified it. Who couldn't remember John Rambo taking on all of the Vietnamese in Rambo: First Blood Part II, John McClane taking on German terrorists in Nakatomi Plaza in Die Hard, or even Jimmy Chitwood sinking basket after basket as Hickory defeats Southbend in Hoosiers. Courage was something only amazing individuals possessed. Something that was hard to find within ourselves. Finding the courage inside was the theme of almost every movie.

As we grow up, we discover we aren't the bigger than life hero. Even though we want to be Joe and leave the drudgery of the office to go out into the wider world, we discover our realm is safe. Things happen. We find jobs, grow lives, become responsible for others, discover mortgages, bills, and taxes. Life becomes easier as we learn to play it safe. Soon the office becomes our lives and the theme music of life's dreams moseys into the sunset.

Over time we become risk averse. Less willing to share in front of others for fear of being judged. Less willing to try innovative ideas for fear of failing and losing either status or our livelihoods. Fear and desire for stability entrenches us in our status quo. Our inner creativity can often die as courage becomes an attribute of others.

However, there become times when others help us find it within ourselves. No, we aren't going to pick up the rifle and save the foreign language students from terrorists. Rather we find the courage to stand up and try something new. To share an idea. To present something you tried just yesterday. To be open and fallible with others. At our inservice yesterday, I saw teachers present ideas before their colleagues that they themselves were just exploring. New thoughts and techniques that had been tried for just the last few weeks or even few days. Individuals who had never shared before standing before their colleagues and saying, "Hey this isn't perfect, but I am liking the adventure." Sharing their risks and their students responses.

These individuals are finding the inner strength to say I have something to share. Becoming leaders in their own right. Encouraged perhaps by a colleague, a coach, or a principal. Discovering the courage to share, innovate, and create. A courage perhaps more needed and more important than one fighting a hopeless battle against all odds. A courage all of us need. In taking the risk, being fallible in front of their peers, they become the coach, the risk-taker, the encourage. Courage breeds courage. Thank you to those who took risks to share, encouraging us all to find the courage to share more.