Students get say in conferences

Several isle schools add accountability to parent meetings

Seventh-grader Joshua Fukumoto and his parents sit down together at Moanalua Middle School and are soon deep into a conversation not typically heard over the dinner table at home.

"You do know what osmosis is, right?" he asks his mother, Sandy, with a hint of condescension as he explains his science-class work to date.

"I know a little about it," she answers, not thrilled with his tone, "but I want you to explain it to me."

Josh takes a crack at it, showing that he also knows, well, a little about it. But the school is happy that parent and child are even talking about such things at all.

In a twist on the standard parent-teacher conferences now getting under way in public schools statewide, Moanalua Middle School students are put in the driver's seat -- or the hot seat, in some cases -- and tasked with explaining to their parents what they are learning and how they are performing in school.

It seems just a small departure from the norm; each student's teachers do, indeed, step in eventually to offer their unbiased take on how kids are doing in school, and the whole thing has no direct bearing on their grades.

But by requiring students to prepare a portfolio and make a nerve-wracking presentation, they are forced to get more personally invested in their body of school work each semester. The school's teachers enthusiastically insist that this has created more self-assured and better-motivated students since the school began doing it three years ago.

"It's a real honest mirror to have to look into, and they tend to work more diligently because of it," said Alex Kendrick, an English teacher at the school.

"It's nice for me because I can say, 'Hey, there's only four more weeks until you have to explain all this to your mom.' That's a powerful motivator."

It is an idea that seems to be catching on. A handful of schools already have adopted the practice, and more are giving it a whirl this semester as schools try to gain every little edge they can in boosting student achievement.

Manoa Elementary School has required students to put together portfolios of their work for a couple of years now. Some teachers are taking an extra step this year by requiring student-led conferences, enticed by research pointing to positive benefits, said the school's principal, Susan Imamura.

"It has a stronger impact in the conferences and generally a more positive one," she said. "Students come in knowing what they're doing and how they're doing in class. It's really pretty exciting."

Besides the effect on students, it gets parents more involved, and they find it revealing to hear from their students what sort of grasp they have on their own schoolwork, Kendrick said.

"Some parents tell me this is the first time they've talked about schoolwork with their kids all year," he said.

Moanalua parent Laura Oshiro shows little interest in her daughter Kylee's portfolio at first.

"This means nothing to me," she says, pointing at the big white binder.

But after science teacher Rory Vierra reveals that some assignments have been coming in late and how to spot that in the portfolio, her interest is piqued.

"All right, we'll do better next quarter," Oshiro promises.

Requiring students to maintain and explain portfolios of their work is one possible aspect of a new middle and high school grading system to be devised in the next few years by the Department of Education.

The department is already implementing changes to elementary school report cards that will feature a new system of letter grades. The grades will be based mainly on what students have mastered by semester's end rather than penalizing them for a slow start if early homework and quizzes were poor.

All of the changes are intended to more accurately assess whether students have mastered the content in the state's academic system.

The impact of the portfolio exercise is undeniable.

At one of several Moanalua tables where student-parent conferences are in session, a boy cries while snapping pens in half in frustration as his mother leafs through his portfolio, the extent of his poor work finally revealed.

On the other side of the room, Natasja Goodin's parents, Charles and Nayna, beam as she goes over her immaculate portfolio and a report card of nearly straight A's. Natasja's teachers later join in the praise for a job well done, which she seems to put in the bank as motivation for the rest of the school year.

But most students are more in the middle range like Joshua Fukumoto, who sucks nervously on a piece of gum clenched between his teeth while going through each section of his portfolio like a poker player carefully playing his cards.

Finally, the moment of truth arrives when his actual grades to this point are unsealed.

"Hey, it's not as bad as I thought," he offers, going into full spin control mode.

"Yeah, but it coulda been better, too," his father, Alan, shoots back.

Still, the conference served its intended purpose. Josh "slept" through the start of the semester, according to math teacher Christine Thornton, but came on strong as the conference loomed, hoping to salvage his hopes of attending a concert by the Eagles in a few weeks.

"I think it's a good idea. It's just like in the business world: You gotta get your portfolio together. It teaches him to be organized," Alan Fukumoto said.

Josh is just happy it is over. He deflates slightly and resumes chewing his gum after his teachers go relatively easy on him. His concert plans are intact.

Did the whole episode help him focus on school? "Yeah, I think so."

Will it be easier next time? "No. I don't want do this again."