Today was the final day of pre-planning. The lessons are ready; the room is ready; the materials are ready; I am ready. Or so I thought. I carefully crafted a new timeline for content delivery that included more engagement, more student choice, more technology. I re-examined where I could eliminate traditional delivery in favor of deep-thinking opportunities and big-picture (cross-curricular) connections. I added a few more programs to my Symbaloo webmixes for the students as well as colleagues to use. I have nurtured my PLN and am helping my classes make global contacts via Twitter and anadventure.org. I read the Storify of last night's #mschat, since my power was knocked out twice during the chat and it was too hard to follow on my phone. That should have been my first signal.
You've heard the tale of the man who, during the flood sends the rowboat away claiming God will save him. Then as the waters rise, he sends away another rescue team, still claiming God will save him. Finally, he climbs onto the roof of his house to escape the rising waters, all the time sure that God's hand will reach down and lift him out of the turbulent waters. He sends away a third rescue team, this one in a helicopter. Upon his inevitable death, the man blasts away at God for letting a "believer" die. "Are you kidding me?" God responds, "I sent two boats and a helicopter to save you!"
Signal number two for me was the lightning strike today, in yet another powerful storm, that struck our building and has knocked out some of equipment I need for my first lessons, so carefully crafted. Signal number three was a blog post I read earlier today from Angela Watson. It helped me to slow down for a moment, and re-think my plans. After the lightning strike, I intended merely to switch my lessons this week, completing my Thursday and Friday lessons on Monday and Tuesday, allowing time for the new equipment to arrive and be installed by our incredibly supportive IT manager. Sequence was of little consequence. But the series of events in the last 24 hours helped me to realize that my current state of being is not unlike the start of a horserace:
You've heard the tale of the man who, during the flood sends the rowboat away claiming God will save him. Then as the waters rise, he sends away another rescue team, still claiming God will save him. Finally, he climbs onto the roof of his house to escape the rising waters, all the time sure that God's hand will reach down and lift him out of the turbulent waters. He sends away a third rescue team, this one in a helicopter. Upon his inevitable death, the man blasts away at God for letting a "believer" die. "Are you kidding me?" God responds, "I sent two boats and a helicopter to save you!"
Signal number two for me was the lightning strike today, in yet another powerful storm, that struck our building and has knocked out some of equipment I need for my first lessons, so carefully crafted. Signal number three was a blog post I read earlier today from Angela Watson. It helped me to slow down for a moment, and re-think my plans. After the lightning strike, I intended merely to switch my lessons this week, completing my Thursday and Friday lessons on Monday and Tuesday, allowing time for the new equipment to arrive and be installed by our incredibly supportive IT manager. Sequence was of little consequence. But the series of events in the last 24 hours helped me to realize that my current state of being is not unlike the start of a horserace:
This is not the atmosphere I want for my classroom. My gung-ho, 'let's get crackin' right away' attitude may not be in the best interest of my shiny, new sixth graders. New building, new schedule, new teachers, new rules - I think my young charges will be best served with some time simply to adapt to their new surroundings. Even though 97% of them have been to the building multiple times, in my welcome call, one honest young man shared with me his worries about getting lost. It is a valid concern, as the hallways look the same from both directions until you figure out the nuances of staircase locations and building orientation. While this may be how I feel as I begin my 13th year in the classroom, (CLICK HERE), I do not want my students out of breath before the end of even the first trimester! Fortunately, my head got the right frequency, and I grabbed the reins. "Whoa, Nellie!" Slow down, there!
After reading Angela Watson's post, I realized I was focused on MY pace, not the pace of my students. As I shook my head and laughed at myself (an exercise I recommend highly) I've thought of a more appropriate second day activity that still accomplishes my goal of critical thinking. I'm bringing in my enormous container of Legos, which I have kept since my own children, now officially "adults" were small.
After reading Angela Watson's post, I realized I was focused on MY pace, not the pace of my students. As I shook my head and laughed at myself (an exercise I recommend highly) I've thought of a more appropriate second day activity that still accomplishes my goal of critical thinking. I'm bringing in my enormous container of Legos, which I have kept since my own children, now officially "adults" were small.
I will place a paper plate filled with assorted blocks onto the desks. When students arrive, they will be asked to create a recognizable object with a partner. Their "participation grade" (not a real grade at all, but a sticker on a board) will depend on both students working together. The catch? They are not allowed to talk. The lesson is two-fold. First, the students will learn how critical clear communication is. Secondly, I will be able to see student strengths and weaknesses. Who will figure out that I did not say they could not write? Who will try charades? Who will take over, and who will simply observe? The lesson will allow me to lead in to my discussion of why we study grammar and writing. This is the linchpin of my entire curriculum. Why learn diagramming? Because it helps you eliminate dangling and misplaced modifiers, making your sentences stronger. Why learn Greek and Latin roots? Because you can identify the meaning of practically any word once you understand how to dissect it. Why read more and more complicated literature? Because elements of literature, the symbolism embedded in the stories teaches us how to understand each other and our own world. I encounter much greater success with reluctant writers when they understand just how humans view and judge one another based on how we speak and write. I'm still looking for an appropriate pair of videos that demonstrates this point. I have to be careful not to reinforce negative stereotypes, but simultaneously create that "Aha!" moment when students realize just how judgmental they are when they hear an accent or incorrect use of grammar.
My original plan for creating avatars to attach to a ThingLink can wait. The purpose behind THAT lesson, self-expression and a sense of belonging, can occur at any time. How wonderful it feels to let go of the chaotic need to "use" every moment. I have no doubt that this experience I will be creating is far more powerful than what I had planned. I'm really glad that I didn't have to be struck by lightning to get the message! In your plans for the first week, have you considered the view from the student desk? I had not. Well I had, but not in the way I needed to. Thank you to Angela, for the reminder to be empathetic.
My original plan for creating avatars to attach to a ThingLink can wait. The purpose behind THAT lesson, self-expression and a sense of belonging, can occur at any time. How wonderful it feels to let go of the chaotic need to "use" every moment. I have no doubt that this experience I will be creating is far more powerful than what I had planned. I'm really glad that I didn't have to be struck by lightning to get the message! In your plans for the first week, have you considered the view from the student desk? I had not. Well I had, but not in the way I needed to. Thank you to Angela, for the reminder to be empathetic.