http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/series/dangerous-encounters/4177/Overview
A wonderful teacher/colleague/mentor’s husband is a scientist for the Seattle Aquarium. He worked with Brady Barr and is on the upcoming episode which will air Friday, July 30: Dangerous Encounters with Brady Barr: CANNIBAL SQUID! If that doesn’t get your attention, perhaps this will:
One of my favorite treats is driving on a Sunday and listening to the Tavis Smiley Show. Yesterday was especially resonating. I caught the tail-end of “Where do we go from here? The prospect of peace in the 21st century,” a discussion with some of the greatest scholars, leaders, and thinkers of our time.
At one juncture, the conversation turned to be about ‘who will our heroes be, who will we look up to?’ and Vincent Harding, with his even, slow-paced voice, reminded us to consider not having a “one” who will “save” us, but in a truly rich, democratic, and free society, we must look within ourselves and to each other for providing the safety and community we can achieve.
In my heart, I know we have always known what to do. Why we turn away from it, I can’t really say. The reasons are as complicated as we are, but it is just as simple, too: we know how to treat each other.
If you have time, it’s worth a listen, at least the last hour or so. Does talking change anything? Or is it only action? I’m contemplating on one thing I can do today to help bring peace. What can I teach, what can I share, what can I create? And I’ll go from there.
We were looking for a quick, free survey site last year. We tried SurveyMonkey, but to gets its full features required some $. This might be a good alternative for teachers/students creating a project: http://flisti.com/
Thanks again, Technology Tidbits!
http://cyber-kap.blogspot.com/2010/07/flisti.html
This makes me happy: When you put good things out there, good things come back.
I am loving being on Twitter, and receiving resources and ideas from teachers, principals, and parents from all over the country, and the world!
One such new resource that fits perfectly with what we do in our classes is: http://digitalbooktalk.com/?page_id=55
You know you love to read and write, even if you don’t admit it.
More to follow…
Why, oh why, did I do this today? It’s a beautiful summer day here in the Northwest…patches of clouds, a breeze, and the butterfly bushes are attracting hummingbirds and butterflies alike.
“What did you do?” you ask sweetly, with concern.
I checked my sons’ school/state test scores.
They met standard.
Now, you may be asking yourself, what is so darn alarming about that? Many parents would be thrilled that their children met standard. Besides, isn’t that what’s it’s all about? My younger son slogged through hours, and I mean HOURS of his life to end up with a B- in pre-algebra. (See other posts about the math that doesn’t add up in schools–doing 100% of his homework, getting one problem ‘wrong’ and ending up with a 50% grade.) My older son is in advanced math and other classes, and for a person under legal voting age, has consistently provided me with some of the most engaging, interesting, and insightful conversations I have ever had. The younger one is inquisitive, joyful, curious, and has a natural scientific mind. Not only does he learn information at the knowledge level, but has the capacity and has demonstrated synthesis, and ultimately, create. (My and my husband’s gold standard.)
The highest of the ‘thinking levels.’
Now, I am the egotistic mother who thinks her children are such smarty-pants that the academics of school should be a breeze, rising up higher and higher into the rarified air, so that their free time is spent on their own intellectual, artistic, scientific, and creative pursuits. To have ‘just met standard’ shocked me into considering just what these standards are, and how in the heck does anyone ‘exceed’ standards? Holy nose-bleed expectations, Batman! Calm down!
Before you start accusing me (justifiably or not) of having the Prairie Home Companion syndrome of “all the women are strong…and the children are above average,” this harkens back to our real question (I will explain who “our” is in a moment):
Just what the heck are we doing, anyway?
What are our real goals for our children/students?
Over the summer, my sons’ school district has sent e-mails of math homework packets to prevent ‘summer slide.’ (If only it was a Slip’n’Slide.) They expect me to print these packets out, hand them to my sons, and instead of spending time just outside, pulling weeds, practicing guitar/drums, painting a picture, going to the zoo, the aquarium, the park, the lake, or down the block, they want them to keep their minds sharp with math packets. It occurred to me that many teachers have, not only this expectation, but this exasperation with parents that their children are not doing something for their minds at all times. It’s like we expect students to be home-schooled after our day is done. Where does this (unreasonable) expectation come from? Because it’s sitting on all of us parents/teachers like a big, fat bureaucratic, bloated, boorish slugs. The cow-manure rolls downhill, folks. Superintendents feel the pressure from parents who scream why their children can’t read, and for the love of Pete DO SOMETHING…so they DO SOMETHING…and principals feel the pinch, and they put the pressure on teachers, but teachers (good ones, and no, I won’t define ‘good’ right now) are already feeling it, and it rolls back to parents who should DO SOMETHING and they aren’t GOOD parents because they’re not allowing their students enough independence (yes, ask me about a Facebook thread from first grade teachers who demanded that students should know how to put their homework folders in their backpacks. Yes, they should. But parents are so scared poop-less that they transform into mechanical parenting creations we have labeled ‘helicopter’ parents. (Yeah. Name calling always works.) So, if little irresponsible, forgetful first-grade Freddie forgets to put his homework folder back in his backpack he’s doomed. DOOMED, I tell ya!
I just want to yell “STOP!”
Think about this: Have we made our curriculums/content so challenging, so rigorous, by reaching higher and higher standards that aren’t age appropriate, we are disengaging parents from being supportive? If a parent can’t begin to understand a child’s homework or assignment because of the shot-gun approach to blasting everything with all that we’ve got (don’t know how to do a math problem this way? Try it these twenty other ways…oh, and why? What’s the fundamental principle behind this math problem? We don’t have time to teach you that, sorry!) So, there it is, 8:30PM, mom’s trying to help with all the things that must be done so the family doesn’t live in filth and squalor, and Freddie needs help with his math/reading etc., and mom doesn’t know how to help. So she feels stupid. And when we feel stupid, we become resentful. And we lash out.
But here is something else to consider. Before we start to feel all ‘Poor us, our jobs are so hard! Pressure!’ consider that many students I know, including my own children, actually like to do well in school. It’s true. We are not punishing them by having standards; on the contrary, many of us like to earn and achieve. Reach a goal. When an ELL student beams at me because she passed the state language proficiency tests, or when a former student puts his high school state test scores on Facebook, proudly sharing his accomplishments, or my own children share a good grade that they’ve worked for, and earned with their efforts, this shows their well-earned pride in making more wrinkles in their gray matter. It feels good to learn.
During this debate and collaboration, I guess all I asking is that my fellow teachers/administration/superintendents don’t lose sight of that human factor as well. Self-esteem comes from struggle, and then success, or failure, and then learning from those missteps. It’s growth, not fixed, learning that provides us with our intrinsic motivation. Perhaps there is confusion or a muddying of the lines between extrinsic and intrinsic. I do what I do because I like to do it, but it’s also nice when someone else notices. Admit it–you kind of like it, too, when someone comments on a blog posting, or tweet, or says, “Hey, did you do something different to your hair? It looks great!”
Who is “our?” The collective will of educators, parents, observers, citizens, students, and politicians out there.
As far as homework goes, yes, I know there’s a huge movement to abolish homework. I get it. I don’t assign ‘homework,’ but I do have assignments and projects. I try to customize each students’ day and time as much as I possibly can, all 150 of them. I try to do what’s ethically and academically appropriate to help each child, because that’s what I want for my children, too.
Now you’ll excuse me, I need to get out the sprinklers and some sunscreen. See ya.
While we mentally live in a virtual world, there is grit and texture in other dimensions, too. Pay attention.
The other evening, I went to a benefit concert performed by the Seattle School of Rock and other locations at the Vera Project in Seattle. It was a strange evening. As my son and I were parking, two gentelmen warned me of a hustler in the parking lot. Sure enough, a young man with odd piercings tried to get cash from me in return for “paid parking.” I had to pull out my best “alpha” animal, stare him down, and repeatedly say “No, thank you. No, THANK you. NO THANK YOU!” before he slunk off. Then, walking toward the Vera Project, we saw a homeless person, um, well, being quite public…
Next stop on the rabbit hole voyage was an introduction to the Sanctuary Art Center. According to the brochure, the
“Sanctuary Art Center is a professional quality art studio serving homeless youth ages 13-25 in Seattle’s University District. Our mission is to create a safe, warm, calm environment for youth to experience creativity and success through use of artistic media, such as pottery, stained glass, painting, beading, drawing, drama, musical instruction, and more. We provide street involved youth wiht a place of discovery and support, removed from the noise, danger, and chaos of the street.”
Hey, grown-ups out there: Isn’t that what we’re all supposed to be doing?
The educators I follow on Twitter are like a never-ending source of inspiration, ideas, and innovations. However, the conversations are somewhat truncated because of the confinements of 140 characters. I like the boundary, but sometimes I have a bit more to say, or to reflect. This is one of those times.
The topic is plagiarism. Plagiarism is defined by willfully and intentionally “stealing” another’s creative/original ideas, works, products, or concepts. Sometimes it’s unintentional, though, but ignorance of the law is, unfortunately, no excuse.
But teaching these concepts isn’t really working in our communicative, idea-rich world. Ideas, conversations, and concepts fly around like oxygen molecules. I have noticed my students copy/paste without thought, compunction, or ill-intent. Seriously — they do not ‘get it.’ It’s like leaving a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter and forgetting to put a sign that says “don’t eat.” I don’t think my population of students is copying/pasting with malice–but they do need some instruction and direction.
compunction |kəmˈpə ng (k) sh ən|noun [usu. with negative ]a feeling of guilt or moral scruple that follows the doing of something bad : spend the money without compunction. See note at qualm .• a pricking of the conscience : he had no compunction about behavingblasphemously.DERIVATIVEScompunctionless adjectivecompunctious |- sh əs| |kəmˈpəŋ(k)ʃəs| |-ʃəs| adjectivecompunctiously |- sh əslē| |kəmˈpəŋ(k)ʃəsli| |-ʃəsli| adverbORIGIN Middle English : from Old French componction, fromecclesiastical Latin compunctio(n-), from Latin compungere ‘prick sharply,’ from com- (expressing intensive force) + pungere ‘to prick.’
Here’s what I think is happening:
Having spent my adult life in pursuits of creativity, alongside my husband, we value our works, and I honor those of others, too. I think it’s really important to teach every generation about ideas, and create a culture of sharing ideas that incorporate a nod or tip of the hat to others. Twitter does this, Facebook, too; the protocol for acknowledging someone else’s tweet or post is the ubiquitous “@” symbol. And though this symbol is king of the universe now (sorry ampersand; you’re Miss Congeniality in the Punctuation Pageant), we cannot but help bow to its reign. Which brings me to my next idea: although I do think we all need to be very intentional, honest, and direct in our teaching of why plagiarism is not okay, and in fact, seeking the way through material is supremely beneficial, I do think we need to redo the citation/bibliography style guides to be more streamlined. Maybe not as easy as “RT” or “@,” but something to clear that obstacle off the information highway.
There are pirates on the Caribbean, and they wear mouse ears.
Wait. That’s not the tone I want to set for this post. My family and I were the recipients of an amazing gift from my uncle. He arranged for a large family reunion that had something for everyone, from the oldest to youngest. The trip included Disney World in Orlando, Florida, to a 4 day cruise to Nassau, Bahamas, and Castaway Cay, a Disney Corp. owned island. Yes. Disney owns AN ISLAND.
There were so many bright spots of this amazing trip. It was daily life but expanded, telescoped wider, bigger, and with more food.
Here are my questions:
Why is the sea different colors in different parts of the world? I know reflective skies are part of it, but that can’t explain why it was sapphire blue in some areas, and turquoise in others.
When stingrays are kept captive, do they go crazy?
If Disney ran the U.S. economy, would we truly run the world?
Here are some things I learned:
Cruise ship workers work seven days a week, sometimes up to 13-16 hour days, for six months straight at a time. They are from all over the world. I heard Jamaican, South African, Croatian, Serbian, British, Indian, Japanese, Czech, Chilean, Uruguayan Botswanian, and American English.
Stingrays are smart. They know how to avoid the sloppy tourists who are trying to pet and feed them. They know when feeding time is, and circle like shadowy sea stalkers, routed by the promise of regular meals.
Crying children reach a pitch that reach one’s back molars. And I learned how grateful those crying children were NOT MINE (this time).
It’s tough to keep track of older children on a very big ship, and the ship grows proportionally larger depending on the time of night out in the middle of the ocean. (And that’s all I’m going to say about that.)
I also learned that I’m not “that person.” I’m not the person who can run on the beach with sugar-sand covered bare feet, enjoying the extreme heat, humidity, and humanity. I wanted to be at one point in my life, but I think that ship has sailed.
I loved seeing a new part of the world.
I learned I feel bad when other people are around me working harder than I do. (And teacher friends, you do NOT work harder than a server on a cruise ship. You don’t. I don’t. They make minimum wage at best, and the ship isn’t registered in U.S., so the cruise ship owners do not have to obey any U.S. labor laws. The workers depend largely on tips, which are often built into the cost of passage.) The workers I encountered always had a smile (except for the Botswana pizza lady–she was grumpy), and a friendly word.
One of the best stories I heard was from a Jamaican woman. She has a family back in Jamaica. She recounted when she and her siblings were little, and there wasn’t enough to eat, she would catch buckets of crayfish from the river and shake the trees for fresh almonds.
Take that anecdote how you will.
I thought about many of my students who “shake the 7-11 tree” for poisonous blue Mountain Dew and Cheetos for their breakfasts.
Strange: I still feel like I’m on the boat, and haven’t found my land-legs back. Things will stabilize soon, and the seas will change. I’m on my way home to the muddy green waters of the Northwest, where the rocky shores do not invite the casual beachcomber. Our beaches beckon miniature scientists: we go to the tide pools for field trips. But we don’t go enough, and we don’t go far enough. I want to take my classroom on the road. I want to give my children and students more experiences. Heck, the directions for getting off the boat in case of an emergency were reason to learn to read alone. (Aside from a very poor font choice, they were so confusing. Glad we had a drill! Talk about hands-on kinetic learning!)
Anyone else out there want to come aboard? Anyone else interested in seeing how far we can take our students by sharing our local cultures, languages, and ideas? Come on, PLN, whaddya say?