Joanna Malefaki’s blog post "I love to hate formal observations” brings together two pet-peeves of mine ...    

1. the endemic conflation of different types of assessment (namely Diagnostic Assessment versus Coercive Assessment), and
2. common tendency for teachers — when being observed — to expect some sort of up or down vote on their teaching

Formal observations are necessary, but evil

I have to be honest. I didn’t really know what Ms. Malefaki meant by “Formal Observation” until I read her post. I mean, what I do, always feels pretty formal. As a representative of ProjectGENIUS, I come to the school as a guest, so I am usually wearing “full battle armor” — cufflinks, a tie clip, and the shoes that blister both sides of my feet by the end of the day. It sure FEELS formal. But I do NOT bring a check list. And when the teacher asks me to say whether or not I think s/he did a good job, I almost NEVER say either yes or no. Both answers undercut what I am trying to do — which is to get the teacher to think critically about the role that he or she is playing at the school — what the areas of strength and weakness are. The way I see it — if I the teacher isn’t functioning in a way that is going to make him or her effective at the school, and I can’t see that without the help of a checklist, then I am not good at my job. My only reason for having a checklist would be if I needed to create the illusion that my judgement came from some higher authority. — which is tantamount to my not having the courage of my own convictions. If I am observing, it is because I need to understand the teacher’s circumstances better and I need to see if there is anyway that I can do something to improve those circumstances. (No, that does not mean that I only observe schools if there is something wrong.) I am engaged in a Diagnostic Assessment. My observation is not a coercion. Teachers do not pass or fail their observations.

That’s why, for me, the assessment part of formal observations shouldn’t exist. In my little brain, the sole purpose of an observation should be to help you find ways to become a better teacher. Does assessment take that away? Yes, when you are box ticking.

I take that back. Teachers DO often fail their observations, but not because of anything that they did in the particular lesson that I observed. For those of you that work for me, here I go, I am tipping my hand: ways to fail Peter’s observation ...

1. You can, in our feedback session, only express interest in the question of whether or not I approve of what you are doing.  If you would like to fail in this way, I can offer a number of forms that this particular failure might take….  (A) You can fail by arguing against any of the negative criticisms (perceived or real) that I may be putting forth; why what I perceive to be a problem with your lesson is actually one of its best features; how what, admittedly, went wrong went wrong due to factors beyond your control; factors, better yet, that were the fault of someone other than yourself.  (B) When I do say something complementary about your teaching style, you can fail by losing all interest in discussing any way in which the situation might be improved upon.  © You can argue for the validity of the way in which you do things by insulting the validity of how others do things.
2. You can — if there have been previous observations — show no sign of having tried anything new since the last time I observed.

I loved Ms. Malefaki’s post because it finally helped me to understand where these teachers are coming from. I walk into the school in my painful shoes and my suit-and-tie get-up (can’t change that, sorry, it’s not for you, it’s for the school who was kind enough to let me come in and nose around), and what those teachers see — at least those that don’t know me and what I’m about — is a walking talking checklist because this is what they have experienced in the past. What teachers new to working with me may not realize is that at this point, I have observed enough lessons so that — one way or another — there is going to be something to point out, some way in which you could be more impactful. But ALSO, if I am lucky enough to watch a lesson completely fall apart, you will find that I have a lot to say about the things that worked well — of which you might not have been aware, things you can build on. So if you work for me, come into your class every day (including the one where I might be observing), ready to take risks — at least once a lesson — and really push yourself and the kids into the unknown where both phenomenal failures and phenomenal victories are possible. And if you don’t work for me, it sounds like maybe you should. (Cause WHEW-HO! OVER HERE! I don’t use checklists.)