Cast Off the Shackles

We went to see the movie Suffragette this afternoon, and it was an empowering tale of the struggle of many working class British women to gain the right to vote.

Perhaps it was a little too empowering. About three-quarters of the way through the film, a woman's voice rang through the theater, clear above the soundtrack. "Whose phone is that?" she demanded. And a moment later she repeated her question, the righteous indignation in her tone unambiguous as she affirmed her right to an interruption-free movie, "Turn it off!"

The irony of her dictate was perhaps lost on her, but not the other patrons, one of whom hissed, "Jeez Lady! It's on vibrate!"

Haters Gonna Hate

It's the end of the quarter, and I find that my students are struggling with independently breaking down directions and then following them. So today I took an assignment that they were to complete by last Friday, copied the directions and included a few of the actual responses they turned in. Tha task was simple: work with a partner to evaluate the examples and then explain why did or did not fit the assignment directions. The next step was to go back over their own replies and revise and improve them. Of course there were some good exemplars, too, and when it came to the class with the student who had written them, I thought it was only fair to give him credit. "Oh stop," his friend said. "You're only feeding his arrogance! They really aren't that good."

Lifelong Learning

From time to time I re-arrange the tables in my room into long courses where students can easily work facing a partner. To provide movement opportunity as well as a variety of perspectives, I usually break the activity into parts and have students share their ideas, and then move seats for the next section. It's an approach that works well with sixth graders, but when there is an uneven number of kids, I either have to work a trio into the rotation, have someone go solo for a round, or join in myself.

I like the last one best, but it requires me to manage my class AND participate in a meaningful conversation, so it doesn't always happen. It did today, though, and because I use the Socratic method of asking way more questions of my partner than I answer, I gained some insight into the poem we are reading. Let me be clear: I have taught this particular poem for over ten years, and with 4-5 sections per term, that means I've read and discussed it at least 40 times. Today? I saw something brand new, and that is why this job never gets old.

Knowing the Drill

We had a fire drill during homeroom this morning, and my class had a little trouble staying together. In their defense, there is a bit of a bottleneck at our designated exit. The students evacuating from our area must merge with students coming up a narrow stairway and pass through two doors into the main vestibule where they can finally exit the building. By the time we were outside, my class was scattered, and it took a minute for me to gather them all up.

When we returned to the room, I told them I knew it could be challenging, but if they all stuck close to the classmate in front of them, then no one would be separated from the group. "Sometimes you just have to wait patiently before you try to go out," I advised them.

One little girl raised her hand. "But what if it was a real fire?" she said. Wouldn't we want to push our way out and run from the building as soon as we could?"

Talisman

Fifteen years ago we spent election night at my brother and sister-in-law's house. It was Heidi's birthday and we were celebrating. Riley was 8, and Treat was 5 and I brought along a little craft project I was going to do with my students the next day. After dinner, we all moved to the living room to watch the election returns and put together dream catcher kits for my class. Emily's parents, Vic and Judy, were there, too, and we all expected to sing happy birthday and go home secure in the knowledge of who our next president would be. Of course that didn't happen: it would be several weeks before the Supreme Court would rule in Bush v. Gore. I thought of that evening today when I caught site of the red, white, and blue dream catcher fashioned out of pipe cleaners, yarn, plastic beads and feathers with a now vintage I Voted sticker affixed in the center. It still hangs on the wall behind my desk. When I made it, I joked that it would be a good filter for political nightmares but frankly? I have never found it very effective.

Checks and Balances

"Will you give me candy if I get a perfect score on this reading log?" a student asked today.

I glanced at his log and shook my head. "You won't get a perfect score," I told him, "because you didn't capitalize the titles of the books you read."

My intention was for him to correct his error, but that didn't happen. "I'm going to get someone else to check it," he said.

"It will still be incorrect," I replied.

"He won't see it," he assured me.

"But, I know it's wrong," I reminded him. "Remember me? The one who records the grades?"

"So no candy?" he asked rhetorically.

I nodded. "And capitalize those titles, would ya?" 

EST to the Rescue

I frowned when I saw that it was raining this morning when I got up; there would probably be no walking to the farmers market in such weather. The rest of our group rose a bit later, but the day was still wet and blustery. At last, a little before noon, the sun came out and blue skies prevailed-- our trip to the market was a go after all!

But it wouldn't have been if not for the turn of the clock last night, for the farmers market closes at 1, which was one hour later today.