D is for Draw Something

Back when we were doing the Slice of Life challenge in March, several students posted about how much fun they had with Draw Something, an app for their smart phones and tablets. They were convincing enough that I downloaded it, just to discover that it was a cooperative game, and I would need a partner to play.

I was so busy that I let it drop, but over spring break one of my fb friends started a game with me, and it didn't take long to get hooked on this pictionary-style diversion. In fact, I contacted my sister right away and got her playing, and my brother was next.

The object is to choose one of three options and draw it as quickly as possible, and then send it to your co-player. When it's your turn to guess, you get to see a real time recording of the drawing, and there are letters to choose from to help find the answer. As my students said-- it's really fun. Of course, there are rules about simply writing the answer down, but no one polices your game. Even so, I like to follow the rules.

Back at school, I mentioned to a couple of kids that I was playing, and immediately they wanted to challenge me. Hmmm. What to do? This was not really a school-related activity, but I couldn't see the harm in it.

Today, the New York City Department of Education released their social media guidelines for teachers. In so far as they apply to the largest, most high-profile school system in the country, I read them with interest. And, as extensive as they are? They don't mention Draw Something or any other games.

So... bring it, kids!

Life Lesson: Rules are rules... Right?

C is for Cooking Calamari

I read quite a few alphabiography drafts today, and perhaps my number one suggestion to my young writers was to add details. One student wrote that, "if you see someone cooking it, it's nasty, but calamari is delicious to eat." We talked a little about the piece, and then I asked him if he minded if I used it as an example, and he agreed.

"Do you know what's yucky about cooking calamari from this passage?" I asked, and all the students acknowledged that they did not. As a former cook who has cleaned and cooked quite a bit of squid, I was only too happy to fill them in on the details of grasping those eight slippery legs and two trailing tentacles, tearing them from the slimy water balloon-shaped mantle, scooping out the snotty purple guts of the animal, and throwing them away along with the milky eyes that stare at you with blank accusation as you amputate them from their body.

"EW!" someone said. "That's disgusting!"

"Exactly," I answered.

Life Lesson: "I get it! I get it!" another student raised his hand. "The writer has to use enough details so that it's the reader who says, 'Nasty!' Right?"

B is for Blowing it Off

I'm a pretty conscientious worker, but this afternoon I could not face what, in my mind, would be one more meaningless meeting, so I didn't go. I stayed at my desk and answered questions for a couple students who stopped by, graded papers, met informally with a colleague about writing workshop, and then, when my contract day was over, went to the gym and the grocery store.

Once, in a conversation I had with non-educators about education practice and teacher time, I complained about what I perceive as the generally inefficient use of meeting time. In response, someone said that the school system had no responsibility to make meetings relevant. Technically, he pointed out, teachers are merely public employees who serve at the pleasure of the school board and commonwealth, and if we were paid to be in a certain place at a certain time, then that is where we should be.

Not today.

Life Lesson: (See below) Engagement is everything!

Corollary: Relevance is essential to engagement.

A is for Away We Go

The first of May brings the second annual "Alphabiography" Challenge for my students. They are assigned to write short (100-250 word) "chapters" of their lives and title them by letters. The requirement is to write twice a week, but the challenge is to write either 20 times this month or all 31 days.

Each piece closes with a life lesson. This part is a good way to encourage these young writers to consider their purpose or message. Theme is an abstract concept that many sixth grade kids are just beginning to grasp, and these short, autobiographical vignettes give them a manageable and concrete step up to that higher order thinking.

Such consistent writing will help build their fluency and confidence, but I'm hoping it will be fun, too.


Life Lesson: Engagement is everything!

(Follow the Alphabiographica link to the right to see some examples of my students' writing.)

Glass Half... What?

At this time of the school year, everyone is really busy. Eight weeks out from summer vacation, there is a full slate of assignments and activities as every teacher and club sponsor pours it on for the big finish. With so many other things going on, it was hardly surprising then, that we only had four kids show up for Tolerance Club today.

None of them had been able to attend the showing of Bully that we had arranged yesterday, so we showed a few clips from the movie and talked about it with them. The most explicit footage in the film was shot on a school bus, and as I've written before, the images are appalling but not surprising to anyone who spends a lot of time with adolescent kids. Both times I saw the movie, the way the kids bully and brutalize Alex on the bus made people cry in the theater.

Today, when the clip ended, two of the girls who were there exchanged glances with eyebrows raised. "Do you guys think we have a bullying problem here at our school?" I asked. After a pause, they went on to describe an ongoing episode that sounded just as disturbing as the one on the screen.

"We told him to stop," one girl said, and I believed her.

"And I told his mother, too," she added, "but he still does it."

Oh, we got some names and details, and congratulated the girls for coming forward, and hopefully, our school will deal with this issue effectively.

And yet, ultimately, doesn't this story just demonstrate how insidious the problem really is?

In the Real World

So often these days in education we justify certain practices by telling ourselves and our students, "Hey, that's how it is in the real world." And indeed, it is our job as educators to prepare them for the challenges that will face them once they are finished with school.

And yet... isn't that particular argument so broad as to be practically meaningless, especially since we can apply it as creatively as we like? For example, in our school, kids are not allowed to chew gum. In the real world, gum chewing is fine, but perhaps not appropriate in every situation. On the other hand, the real world is full of rules that we may not agree with, (leash your dog, follow the speed limit) and there are consequences for not following them (if you get caught).

Maybe that's the lesson? (But will it be on the test?)

What Would Worf Order?

I got David Chang's cookbook, Momofuko, for Christmas. Even though I have never had the fortune to eat at one of his restaurants, his reputation as both ingenious chef and tell-it-like-it-is writer intrigued me. And although I have yet to prepare a single dish from his cookbook, his philosophy and technique have brought me back to the book Saturday after Saturday, and I know I'm getting close to making something.

In fact, I planned a stop at my regular Asian market today to purchase some ingredients I'd like to have on hand. How disappointed was I when the inventory that I believed was pretty extensive was missing some crucial items?

Back at home, I researched buying what I wanted by mail order, but then I thought about searching for other, bigger markets near-by instead. There were several options, which was not surprising in the least given the diversity of our area. One in particular caught my eye, and I remembered that I had actually been there years ago.

As I recall, the store itself is supermarket sized, and shopping there was like being transported to a different country. Very few of the products for sale were familiar at all. I was fascinated by all of it, trolling the aisles, trying to figure out what this or that item might be. When I got to the produce section, I'm sure I gasped at the array of alien fruits and vegetables, or was my breath taken away by the cold food bar?

Crock after crock of unfamiliar food was nestled neatly in that twenty foot bed of ice. It hardly seemed real, so disorienting was it to literally not know what any of that stuff was. The friend I was with joined me in silence at the sight of it. Finally I spoke. "Oh my God! It's a Klingon salad bar!"