Search Results for: workshop

2022 — Year in Review

In keeping up with (what is now a 10-year!) tradition, here’s a brief review of my professional year.

Without question my biggest professional accomplishment of 2022 was the publication of my book, Painless Statistics. People are buying it and even saying nice things about it! From start to finish it was an incredible learning process, and I now know what is meant by the saying “It is better to have written a book than to write one.”

I was happy to resume giving talks and workshop again in person in 2022. In the spring I returned to Queen’s College to speak to soon-to-be math teachers about making math by design. And after two years of remote-only teacher workshops, I was thrilled to return to the Math for America offices for The Geometry of Linear Algebra. It’s been exciting to learn so much linear algebra as I teach it, and I already have new workshops and talks scheduled for 2023.

On top of publishing Painless Statistics, it was another busy year of writing. As usual my column for Quanta Magazine provided a year full of the best kind of mathematical challenges, and I had a blast writing about brownie bake-offs and geometric dissections, different kinds of infinities, and Wordle, among other things. And I reviewed Ben Orlin’s book Math Games with Bad Drawings for the American Mathematical Monthly.

Above all, it was just nice to have a professional year that seemed to be trending toward normal.

Here’s to an even more normal 2023!

Related Posts

2021 — Year in Review

A return to in-person schooling was the biggest news of 2021. I don’t want to be accused of burying the lede.

It’s been great to be back. It’s also been an interesting challenge trying to weave together what I learned over the past year-and-a-half as a full-time remote teacher with what I was doing in-person before that. Add in new colleagues, redefined priorities for teacher teams, and a brand new course to teach and it’s been a pleasantly busy return to the building.

I’ve also stayed busy with a variety of talks and webinars this past year. As always I ran several workshops for Math for America, like Bringing Modern Math into the Classroom in January and It’s All Linear Algebra in November. This summer I participated in a roundtable discussion at the National Museum of Mathematics on math education. And I was thrilled and honored to run a week of morning math for the Park City Math Institute’s Teacher Leadership Program, satisfying two long-standing professional goals: to participate in PCMI and to finally make sense of complex multiplication!

I continued to write my column for Quanta Magazine, which is on ongoing professional highlight. The year started with the crooked geometry of round trips (an article that was picked up by Wired magazine) and covered everything from hot dogs to goats to tricky job interview questions.

I was proud to keep up my Remote Learning Journal throughout the 2020-21 school year, and was happy to have the opportunity to reflect on the totality of my experience on the MAA’s Math Values blog, where I published “Let’s Remember the Year Everyone Wants to Forget“. I was also able to capture some fun moments in writing this past year, with a short story about an absolutely brilliant student solution to a calculus problem as well as a Seussian poem proof of the irrationality of the square root of 2.

Without question my single biggest professional project this year, writing or otherwise, was getting a manuscript submitted. I knew it would be more work than I expected, and it was. But the process was exciting and eye-opening and worthwhile, and I am thrilled that Barron’s Painless Statistics will be out in June 2022.

It’s been another year full of challenges, changes, and opportunities, and I hope 2022 brings us a healthier balance of all those things.

Related Posts

Ends and Beginnings

In a past life I worked in office buildings. One of the reasons I quit that life was the inescapable perpetuity of it all. There was no end, no beginning. Just work.

The well-defined beginnings and ends of the school year are important to me. Anticipation creates excitement, closure creates opportunities to reflect. Working in perpetuity made me realize how important this cycle was in my life.

I always have my students write end-of-year reflections, in part to bring their attention to this cycle, but also because there are questions I don’t know the answers to. And I want to know. Although I could have guessed many of those answers.

What worked for you? Breakout rooms, because I got to learn from others and build relationships with my classmates.

What didn’t work for you? Breakout rooms, because they were awkward and no one talked.

What did you learn about yourself? I learned that I need social interaction more than I thought.

How do feel about next year? I’m nervous that I won’t recognize any of my classmates because I don’t know how tall anyone is. (Ok, I never would have guessed that.)

What would have improved your experience this year? In-person classes. (No surprise there.)

My own end-of-year reflection begins with “I made it”. I think this is where many teachers would start their self-evaluations. But as I look deeper, I realize how far I’ve come, how much I’ve learned, and how many new skills I’ve developed. I now feel comfortable teaching a live remote class. I have a sense of how to structure asynchronous learning, and knowledge of tools that can make it meaningful. I can build relationships with students in a virtual environment. I can run a workshop for teachers in zoom. I can facilitate teacher teams remotely.

I couldn’t say any of these things twelve months ago. It feels good to be able to say them now at the end, and at the start of a new beginning.

Related Posts

Where Was the Support?

We recently passed the one-year anniversary of school closures in New York City, which means that I have been engaged in remote / hybrid teaching for over a year. You might be surprised to learn that, during the past year, the NYC Department of Education has provided me virtually no support or training on how to teach remotely. Unless you’re a teacher, in which case you wouldn’t be surprised at all.

The lack of guidance at the outset of emergency remote learning in the spring of 2020 is somewhat understandable. Everyone was caught off guard, and schools and teachers were given a week to figure out how to do something they had never done before. Sure, it would have been nice if someone at the country’s largest school system actually knew something about remote learning — it certainly isn’t new — but at that point the best most of us could do was just react.

It was disappointing to return to school in the fall and discover that, after three months of emergency remote learning and an additional two months of summer to prepare, the DOE still didn’t have anything helpful to say about the practice of remote instruction. I’m sure some high-priced consultants or over-paid administrators prepared some unusable documents for us, and maybe a platitude-heavy keynote or webinar was offered. But the details of how to actually make this work were left up to the teacher. As those details usually are.

I was lucky to have a handful of thoughtful colleagues I could bounce ideas off, virtually observe, and share successes and failures with. This helped me identify the pressing issues I needed to deal with, and allowed me to converge on a system that, for the most part, works for me and my students. I doubt my teaching would win any awards this year, but students are learning, math is happening, and progress is being made.

The amount of struggle and independent effort required to reach even this point makes me wonder, where was the support? A year of remote learning was predictable enough in the face of a global pandemic. How is it that an expansive administration, one that oversees 75,000 teachers that serve 1 million students, had virtually nothing helpful to say about how to best implement remote instruction? As has happened so often throughout my career as a teacher, it seemed like it was all up to me to figure it out for myself and my students.

Midway through the year some teachers at my school ran workshops based on training in remote learning they received from Columbia’s Teacher’s College, an education school which enjoys great prestige. In these workshops the teachers told us what they learned about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and the difference between a recall question and a thought-provoking question. I remember listening to the same thing 20 years ago in my required education courses, and it was about as helpful then as it was now. I came to the same sad conclusion I came to 20 years ago: If this is the best they have to offer, I’m probably better off figuring it out on my own.

Related Posts

PCMI 2021

I’m excited to be a part of the Park City Math Institute’s 2021 upcoming summer program!

PCMI provides immersive mathematical experiences for scientists, students, and educators through their summer programs. This year, I’ll be running a week-long session for PCMI’s Teacher Leadership Program titled Complex Geometry Made Simple. Here’s the course description:

The complex numbers are one of the great achievements of algebra, but their geometry may be even more compelling. Join us as we explore the complex connections between elementary geometry, inversion, rotations, functions, and more! The shortest path to real truth may involve a detour through the complex plane, but in this course we’ll be sure to take time to enjoy the journey.

PCMI’s Teacher Leadership program runs July 12 — 30 and includes courses on Fibonacci Recurrences, led by Daryl Yong and Bowen Kerins, and Hands on Combinatorics, led by Brian Hopkins. You can find out more information on the programs, including how to apply, here.

Related Posts

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox

Join other followers: