Birdwalk

Though now I realize it was something of a collusion between the students and him, we kids thought we were so bright.  We learned, early, how to get a teacher to birdwalk.  You know, those random stories that seem to come from nowhere, where the teacher talks about their childhood, their theories on life and their pet snake.  His stories were the best, not because they were that interesting, though they were, but because he was not talking about math.  Oh, how smart we thought we were to get him off the topic of math and onto real life.

Collusion.  Only we didn't know he was in on it.

So much of what goes on in a classroom now consists of a kid and a computer.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love what happens when kids and computers get together.  In fact, way back in the late 80's, I was the first teacher at our school to bring in a computer.  The kids played "Reader Rabbit" and they loved it.  I loved what happened to my writing when I became proficient on the keyboard.

This might seem unrelated, but give me a minute and I will tie them together.  I have had many parents, in my teaching career, take their kids out of school for a prolonged amount of time.  Okay, it happens.  If grandma and grandpa live in the Philippines, I can see a yearly visit or so.  But when mom or dad tells me that they won't miss anything in class because, "they can do their work before they go," or, "they can do the homework on the plane,"  I blanch.

What does computer interaction and doing the classwork on a plane have to do with the other?

Both are leaving out something important.

The birdwalking.

Well, not just the birdwalking, but the person behind it.  The teacher.

You see, there are two main components to  what your kids do in school all day, one is the curriculum, that is, what the kids are expected to hear, see, read, do, and learn; and then there is the teacher.

More and more, it is becoming possible for your children to go to school without ever seeing a live teacher.  There are classes they can take online, programs like Khan Academy, and even whole public schools, all online.  They don't need to ever encounter a teacher in real life.

Sometimes I wonder, why don't we just write curriculum that is self-paced, hand it to kids, and let them turn it in when it is done?  We could easily, and more efficiently, cover all the curriculum the kids are supposed to learn and know.   

Makes taking those vacations easier, doesn't it?

So, after teaching since the late 70's, have I become anachronistic?  Have I lost my usefulness?

But remember.  A computer can't birdwalk.  And in that, I place my, and every other teachers', value.

Today in class, the kids drew names out of a bag-- names of poets about which they will do short reports.  It could have been computer generated.  Susie-- you drew Langston Hughes.  Nathan-- you have Frost, Gwen-- you have William Carlos Williams.  Go write a report.

Or, it could have been like it was in class.  "Oh, I LOVE Hughes!  Let me tell you about the Harlem Renaissance and why he was so important..."

And, "What is a beat poet?  Oh, you have William Carlos Williams, don't you?  He was one of my favorites when I was your age.  Have you ever been in North Beach in San Francisco and walked down the Jack Keroak Alley?  Well, he was one of..."

It is, though, in our humanity, and even, in my case, my insanity, that teachers take the curriculum and turn it into a vital, living and breathing, fascinating entity.  We make the connections between reality and theory.  We make it real and necessary, not just something to check off the list as "knowing," but we make it relevant.  Those "aha" moments are fewer and farther between with a computer, and less so with a worksheet.  Teachers use curriculum to reach a goal, the goal is not the curriculum.  We are the ones who light the fire and the curriculum is the wood and kindling.

So, yes, I will keep using computer based programs to teach, and, if you really need to take your daughter out of class for a week for a family emergency, I can give her some work to do to help her keep up.  But remember this, it isn't a replacement for that flawed, sometimes charming, sometimes frustrating example of humanity that sits at the largest desk in the classroom.  She might tell stories that seemingly have little to do with the subject matter at hand, have papers all over her desk, and she might forget important dates.  She is anything but perfect, but, with luck, your son or daughter will have one of the crazy ones, one that tells stories, one with passion and vision, and one of the ones that ignite flames that will burn for a lifetime.

Officers log Lt. Grier 17 Feb 2012

The crew and I, well, we knew it was a tough assignment.  We were used to tough.  We have scaled mountains together, climbed tress and hung from ropes.  We are a tough lot.  This was a new one, though, and no good sailor ever over estimates their past.  This time, well, this time we were to take the proud helm of the one of the classiest gals that ever carried a torpedo; the war-proud USS Pampinito.  

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Pampanito_%28SS-383%29

We had a lot to live up to.  The graceful lady, in her day, carried the bravest and the best sailors ever to float in water.  We were ready, though.  Tired, after the long week of qualifications, the tests in maths, sciences, and history were grueling, but we were determined to persevere.  Many were uncertain why the study of the great words of the Bard were necessary to man the ship, but the officers were united and each sailor passed muster with the Queen's poet.  

There they were, the men of old; they smiled as we arrived.  So many of them, looking haggard, yet proud, their beards thick, their hats on askew, and, presumably, smelling of stale humanity.  They had just docked, and were leaving the boat to us.  Affectionately called a, "pigboat" because there was only one, unused shower; at the end of the cruise, well, let's just say at least everyone smelled the same.  

Clams at work

Our crew, under the capable and experienced leadership of Commander Pham, faced the long, fifteen hour ordeal in all the time honored ways sailors have since sailors have sailed the seas: some were calm, many were thoughtful, some filled every nook and cranny of silence with the verve and bravery of life, scoffing at the danger ahead.  

Slightly surprised to find that there was yet more training, after all the testing and training of the week before, the sailors staunchly formed their teams, chosen by Commander Pham, and organized into smaller units.  The other two officers led their units away for further training, and I proudly left with the select sailors, code name: Team Clam, chosen for my command.  

The illusive, dancing 5

Though everything on a submarine has be be done under the framework of teamwork, a little healthy competition never hurt anyone.  I was pleased with my unit -- they were well-chosen, a well-rounded group of seasoned crew, both brave and intelligent.  


Spirits were high and the energy level was bursting. Team Clam gave the instructors a merry chase, challenging their knowledge, and, at times, their patience.  Each clam taking a turn to shine during different exercises, the team work that keeps a sailor alive on a sub was a constant thread throughout.  




After a sundown orientation of the boat, mess was called at 20:00.  The crew dined on pizza and cookies while celebrating passing our last qualification round.  Finally, we were ready for the mission.  

A clam demonstrating station rotation stance

Each crew member was assigned a bunk, wisely chosen by Commander Pham, and barely a complaint was heard.  And then, we settled into our duties.  


Our XO, of course, watched over the whole crew while Cpt. McGillivray enticed those around her to play Bananagrams.  Lt. Ottoboni challenged a few of the crew to an arm-wrestling contest, demonstrating just a small reason why he deserves to lead.  


After ensuring that all were settled into their duties, I took my station in the crew's cabin, where a couple of the crew were stationed, and where I read Lord of the Flies, to prepare for my next assignment. 

Night watch passed successfully, with few sleeping casualties.  Some, exhausted from the physical exertion necessary to navigate a submarine, were unable to wake for their watch.  Still, fueled by hot chocolate, the crew stood watch in silence, some resorting to hand gestures and stifled giggles to communicate the necessary intelligence needed for, "Go Fish."   The last watch, The Clams, had the added benefit of seeing the sun rise over the water. 


At last, 07:00 arrived, and from the submarine emerged a cheerful crew.  Colors were displayed, mess was consumed and finally, one last time, units were assembled.  While waiting, several sailors broke the monotony by reciting Shakespeare.

  Though proud of the entire tired crew, I could not help a silent, "I knew it" when I learned that Team Clam earned the best scores in the friendly competition.  Congratulations, Team Clam, as well as all of those valiant sailors aboard the USS Pampanito,

Weren't these people children not long ago?

With a well-fed, fluffy white chicken staring at me from the front desk, I watched as one of my favorite teacher tricks played itself out.  I usually do this early in the year as it teaches me quite a lot about your children.  On one of the less interesting grammar concepts, I will challenge the whole class to earn a 100% in whatever manner they could, minus using me, or my answer book, as a resource.  Though they don't always need them, prizes make tasks more fun, so today's carrot was twenty minutes of game playing and popcorn scheduled for Friday.

 I love elegant solutions, and that is the reason I love doing this.  What seems on the surface to be just a different way to get some grammar done has a variety of things going on.  First, I find out how your kids work together.  I watch as one or two people take the leadership role and who follows along.  And who does not.  I watch as the new kids speak up and find their part in the group's goal.

Teachers know (or those who pay attention to research!) that kids learn far better from other kids than they do us. 

sigh

All that talking we think is so important is, but when they can hear it from each other, they actually remember it. 

double sigh.  

That means that any time I can get them to teach each other, in a controlled situation, I am doing more for them than just telling them myself.   

Hey, this isn't so bad.  All I have to do is set it up so I know that they are teaching each other the right thing and then I can rest my weary voice!  

Each group is unique, I find.  Your group was eager to get started.  One young lady was ready with her plan to organize the class well before I was ready to let them be on their own.  After about three minutes of sharing organizational ideas in a polite, one person at a time manner, they had their plan.

Great kindness comes out in these kinds of exercises.  When one student faltered, I saw two different people get up to go help.  And bravery.  To speak up and say, "I don't get it" takes guts.  When the two go together, children learn that good teammates will have your back when you need it. While all this serious learning is going on, the kids may not know it, but they are also learning how to find their place in a group; that a group needs leaders and followers, that each role is important and that sometimes the roles are fluid.  

Pretty big lessons for such a goofy looking batch of kids.

...or at least the chicken said so. 

Devious Teacher Tricks

I seem to collect blogs like a cake crumb collects ants.  All of them are important to me, but having several means that some are left unattended.  Since there is so much that is new for me this year, it seemed like a good time to update this one.  

Your kids are an endless delight to me.  I love to watch how they interact with each other and most of all, how they grow in their thinking.  Believe it or not, my first time in a classroom as a paid educator was in 1979 as a teacher's assistant in college.  I shared that little known fact with the 6th graders, and I watched one face as her brain did the math, and then the delightful change on her face when she figured out that I was old!  That look on her face was worth telling that little secret.  

In the few, cough, years that I have been teaching, I learned a few tricks.  Today I put one of my favorite ones into use during grammar.  The sixth graders have to memorize the 52 prepositions in the book.  Memorizing is rarely fun.  I give them a unscramble worksheet to complete, but tell them that, after working on it for about 15 minutes, I will give them the chance to do whatever it takes to ensure that the whole class earns 100% on the paper, and a promise of a reward serves as a carrot.  Then I sit back and watch the fun.  

Though this exercise helps them memorize their prepositions, it really is a cleverly designed plot for me to learn more about your kids.  I like working this way-- creative, controlled, chaos, I call it.  I step back and watch who sits by themselves, who is helpful, who will reach out to the shy one and quietly sit next to them to work and who steps up to organize the class to ensure the objective is reached.  Though they think it is just a fun way to finish a boring worksheet, I learn more about your children that way than I would in weeks of the teacher in the front style of teaching.  I can see already, that this 6th grade class is filled with personality, but also lovely people in their own right.  

It isn't just the sixth, grade, though.  I was talking to Ms. McGillivray today and we agreed that we have a very nice mix of kids this year.  Of course, she and I always seem to say that, but this year's group is delightful in itself.  I saw the 8th grade boys at lunch sitting with some 6th grade boys.  The 6th grade girls seem to move as a cohesive group from table to table.  There isn't room at one table for all of them, so, like an amoeba on a microscope slide, they separate into two tables, but still seem to be one.  The 7th graders have grown more confident over the summer, and the 8th graders are almost taller than me.  They have taken on an 8th grade maturity over the summer and I already miss them, because I know they will be ready to move on before it seems like we are ready to let them go. 

Homemade cookies

When I was in my sophomore year of college, I worked as a teacher's assistant at a highly regarded magnet school in San Diego. In the classroom were students from the wealthy area surrounding, as well as children who spent as much as two hours on a bus each day to go to this school. Among the memories of that assignment is the one of a small boy, in the 3rd grade, who wanted me to "wait for him," because he wanted to marry me. At Christmas time I learned about the surprising tradition of teacher gifts. That year, as best I can recall, I received a brooch, two coffee cups, one fancy soap, a Christmas tree ornament, and one very special gift, a roll of toilet paper given to me by a young girl who wanted to give me something, and that was all she could find in her house.

One of my mentors, early on, told the parents of her kindergarten students, that if they felt so inclined to give her gifts, she would like... and she gave them a list of things that the children would love to use in the classroom.

Smart lady.

Since then, gifts from children have included a wide range of nifty things-- from specially made boxes to lavish gift certificates, to chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. (It is hard to go wrong with chocolate.) Each and every gift created a memory for me.

This year, the wonderful parents of our school created a thoughtful set of delights for us to enjoy on Teacher Appreciation Week. The cupcakes, the snacks, the lunch, each treat gave me something to look forward to during the day and made my tummy happy. I loved that the treats were made with love and not overly expensive. But what got me were the cookies. Oh, my. The cookies.

In this day, when most people work far more than they would like to, made from scratch seems like a distant memory. Not quite like when I grew up, when the church ladies would have unacknowledged contests at the potluck to see whose plate was ready to be washed first, devoured by the eager community. Now we have Safeway, and Whole Foods, who do a fine job of making cookies... but they aren't homemade.

Cookies say, "I love you," and, "I baked this just for you." They represent toil and fond thoughts. Lasting only a few minutes, they are fleeting glimpses of heaven.

Thank you, all of you, for the lovely gifts you have sent, from trusting your child to my care, to the exquisite pieces of art, both handmade and purchased, to the chocolate and everything in between... but most of all, thank you for the cookies.

You will never thank me for this, but...

Since I have had the seventh graders in my class, I have seen an incredible transformation in them and their writing. They have matured beautifully and their writing has become quite sophisticated. Since they have mastered the paragraph essay form, I wanted to give them one more tool in their author's tool box. You may remember this tool from oh, so long ago, it is... The Five Paragraph Essay.

They groaned. They complained. They offered alternative activities. (They get bonus points for not just giving me a problem, but having a solution ready as well. At least they are trying for a win/win solution.)

Much to their dismay, despite their creative imploring, I stood my ground and preceded with the first essay assignment. Yes, that is right, they are doing two of these.

Like the title says, they may never think back and thank me for this. What they will do, instead, is be polished essay writers. Maybe, on one of those days that they have 45 minutes to write an essay for a test, there might be a glimmer of recognition for the trial and tribulation I put them through. Maybe.

Still, that isn't my goal. What I want for them, when they have to write on demand, with a deadline, is not to freeze up. I want them to have the edge that these tools will give them. When others are staring at the wall trying to come up with an angle, I want your children to be finishing their first paragraph. And if they do find they are freezing up and can't write, they will have several other tools in their tool box that they can rely on, so they can still do a fine job.

And sixth graders? Now that I know the seventh grade can take this on and do well, guess what. You're next. I can't wait to see what you can do next year!