The Sky Has No Limits

Diligence.  Patience.  Perseverance.  Every teacher and parent wants children to develop these qualities.  Aside from urging students to complete their work, just how is it done?

Consider parent William Mitchell, a father of ten. He loved astronomy and expected his children to assist him—as part of their education—as he observed the sky at night.  He showed them how to use a telescope to sweep the sky, observe, take notes, and record measurements.  As a result, two of his children, Maria and Henry, developed interests in science.  Henry went on to a career as a hydrographer and helped found the National Geographic Society.

And Maria? She discovered a comet at age twenty-nine, became the first American Professor of Astronomy at Vassar College, and is acknowledged as the first professional woman astronomer in the United States.

Maria Mitchell thrived in a home in which parents prized learning.  It took years of diligent study of math and patient observation of the sky until she discovered Comet Mitchell.  Later in life, she wrote that she never forgot the one-on-one time with her father on the roof walk as they observed the sky together.

Children thrive when their parents share their interests, spend time with them, and teach them.  Parents don’t need to have all the answers, either; for example, when William Mitchell had taught Maria all the math that he could, he found her a more advanced teacher.

We don’t need to be experts in astronomy to learn from the sky, nor must we expect our children to make fantastic discoveries.  But observing the night sky often is a terrific, family-friendly field trip. It teaches our children that there are infinite worlds for exploration and discovery.

Why Are Trees So Pushy?

If you ask your students, they’ll probably know we refer to autumn as “fall” because that’s when leaves fall from deciduous trees.  But do they know it’s more accurate to call it the “Get-Off-Me-Season?”

That’s what botanist Peter Raven calls it.  In this 2009 NPR story, he explains how trees push off their leaves when no longer needed.

Couple this with a visit to a nearby tree and you’ve got one of the best science lessons of the season.  Follow these three steps:

  1. Collect and display fallen leaves.  Include a branch with some leaves still attached
  2. Tell students that after they listen to the 4-minute NPR story, they’ll tell partners what they learned from it.
  3. Take them outside for a walk to observe trees in different stages of “pushing.”

Teaching science is about creating opportunities for your students to have individual, hands-on contact with the world.  You can enhance this lesson to make it longer or more complex, but the important thing is to enjoy science every day.

Plus with a word like abscission, your students will have fun teaching it to people at home.

Worms Conquer! Science Teaching For Us All

This year, Sam’s school hired a science specialist.  Every Tuesday she rolls her supply-stocked cart from room to room and teaches the science content students must know by spring.  Sam’s class’s 40-minute slot begins at 10:20.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m relieved,” he said. “It’ll free me up to focus on my kids’ literacy and math. Divide and conquer, I guess.”

Conquer science?  Yes.  Divide the responsibility? No—share the responsibility.

While Sam’s school made good use of a grant to address science learning, Sam and I talked about how to incorporate science into the life of the classroom.  It’s our job to help tomorrow’s scientists—who are in front of us today—learn to wonder, question, experiment and imagine.

Also, to boost my case, I mentioned that if worms could talk they’d suggest that Sam start a worm farm.

Worms are the perfect classroom companions and they teach while they work.  I shared my experiences creating worm farms from scratch:  kids bring in the materials, create the farm, add the worms, and by this point they’ve already learned a lot.  Sam wrote down a supply list:

  • A clear container, like an old aquarium
  • Dirt, worms, and leaves–students bring it all in
  • Dark paper or a paper bag to tape around the aquarium, so worms think they’re underground.

Let the students do everything, I advised, and leave plenty of time to touch and examine everything.  Then:

  1. Layer dirt and leaves in aquarium.
  2. Place the worms on top.
  3. Tape dark paper around the sides so the worms could do their work in peace and quiet.

My students decided to give the worms a couple weeks of peace before peeking behind the paper to see the magic.  Worms in tunnels!  Vacant tunnels!  Leaves munched!  Castings left behind!

The students’ curiosity exploded. They talked, listened, read, wrote, drew, measured, questioned, problem solved, researched and wondered about worms. The best assessment of their learning?  Overhearing students talk about worms with each other in casual conversation.

At times, no one gave the worms a thought and we focused on other science topics.  Then someone would wander over to the worms, pull away the paper and discover there was plenty more to observe and discover.

Of course, this isn’t just about worms.  It’s about creating interdisciplinary learning in science that works because it’s hands-on and fun. It’s naturally differentiated and inspires. It’s available to every student, all day and all year. Sam pointed out that it meets practically every goal in the Common Core standards, too.

Faster than you can say oligochaetologist, Sam was on board.  He also remembered reading a poem by Edgar Allan Poe in college–so here is “The Conquering Worm” for you to appreciate in all its gothic splendor.  Have some fun reading it before you invite your worms to school.

That Good News

Want to know the best way to involve parents?  Send home good news about their child before the first week is out.

And there’s no better way than to have students write it themselves.  With writing now taught across the curriculum, every teacher can do it. Even if you only have fifteen minutes, it’s time well spent:

  1. 3 min.  Create a writing rubric.  What do your students think matters in a quality letter home?  Find out what they know and evaluate what they need to know.  Keep it simple–it doesn’t need to be a forever rubric.
  2. 2 min.  Speed-brainstorm 2 lists of topics.  What new learning did students accomplish?  Looking forward, what goals do they want to work on?  Keep new learning and goals specific.
  3. 10 min.  Students write.  Make copies to keep on file OR ask parents to sign and return them.  

Afterward, send an email home to let parents know that good news is on its way!

The benefits?  Your first message home is student-generated, positive and specific.  Parents become involved in the conversation about their child.  Also, this lesson is naturally differentiated.  Students practice using rubrics, noting what they do well, and setting goals.  You wind up with the best kind of writing assessment piece–one that is organic and personal.

For students’ inspiration or reward, listen to Sam Cooke’s fabulous song Ain’t That Good News on American Bandstand in 1964.  The song is about two and a half minutes;  in the interview afterwards, he tells Dick Clark that he uses “observation…to observe what’s going on…to write something that people will understand.”

It worked for his songs and it’ll work for your students.

 

W-A-T-E-R

            What does this word bring to mind for you?  A cold, refreshing drink .…perhaps memories of diving into a favorite green-blue lake in the mountains…or a chemical substance necessary to sustaining life around the world?

            How about a moment that changed the life of a student?

            You know the story of how teacher Annie Sullivan persisted with her student, Helen Keller,  by pumping a gush of water over her hand while finger spelling “water.”  When Helen made the connection, Annie wrote later that day, “a new light came into her face…she was highly excited…in a few hours she had added thirty new words to her vocabulary”  (Herrman, 1998).

             This profound “w-a-t-e-r” moment in the life of a student is what we teachers strive for.  It’s part of why we choose to teach:  we want to make a difference in the lives of our students.  We want to change their worlds by opening up new possibilities of thought, seeing, feeling, listening, and doing.  We want to teach them perseverance as we persevere along with them.  We want to ignite their curiosity to increase their motivation to learn.  And our job is to create these w-a-t-e-r moments so they will discover the joy of learning.

              At the water pump, Annie Sullivan unlocked the world of language and learning for Helen, and that’s what you’ll be doing with your students this semester as you teach biology, calculus, reading, social studies, Spanish, writing, math, literature, art, and wellness.  As you begin to design your classes for students, keep this in mind:  What kind of experiences can you create to help students discover learning and make it their own?  What can students touch, feel, build, manipulate, draw, invent, create, move, construct, show, present, demonstrate, do

               Build these experiences into lessons every day and you’ll move your students closer to w-a-t-e-r moments.  Watch for the “new light that came into her face”—that incredible reward of teaching, seeing when the student understands.  We teachers set the stage for these moments through our training, dedication, and perseverance.

                What w-a-t-e-r moments have you experienced?  How did they happen?  What did they feel like for you?  What new light of understanding came on for you and your student?

 

 

Herrmann, D. (1999). Helen Keller: A life. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. 

Metamorphosis

For educators, fall really feels like spring.  A fresh year, a new class, brand-new students: all of these embody new beginnings and the opportunity to grow.  My growth during this season, though, often begins with a search.

Whenever possible, I scan my yard and local fields for milkweed.  If I see a patch, I examine the leaves for monarch butterfly caterpillars so I can capture a few, put them in a jar with milkweed leaves, and prepare to witness a miracle.

Who taught me how to do this?  One of my fourth grade students.

One first day of school, Stefan brought in a Mason jar stuffed with milkweed and placed it carefully on his desk.  He announced that a monarch caterpillar was inside and he was going to watch it metamorphose into a butterfly over the next two weeks.

I was enchanted!  Here was a student with curiosity, an interest in science, and the confidence to place a jar on his desk on the first day of school.  Without knowing it, he led the class and me into a frenzy of learning about monarchs, learning that spilled over effortlessly into evenings and weekends.

Together, the students and I researched monarchs and learned geography alongside new science vocabulary.  We read books about them, sharing our favorites back and forth.  We discussed what we learned and wrote essays and poems. We raced into school every day to examine the monarch for changes, learning patience and developing the deep understanding that comes from observation.  We drew diagrams showing the stages of metamorphosis, carefully coloring in the proper colors of each step.

When the great day came, we watched the monarch emerge from its chrysalis and take its time drying its wings.  It was a breathtaking moment.  We let it sit on our hands, feeling the peculiar touch of its legs.  Stefan opened the outside classroom door and placed the monarch butterfly on a plant in the sun.

The monarch wasn’t the only creature with a metamorphosis.  I realized in a new, powerful way that by embracing students’ interests–and letting a fourth grader have a caterpillar jar on his desk–that this was an eloquent way to put student learning first.

Thank you, Stefan.

Kathleen M. Nollet, Ph.D.

Aside

What kind of teacher are you?  What are your ideals?  Perhaps they are as Maggie Smith explains in her Oscar-winning performance in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, ”goodness, truth and beauty.”   Or you might be like Sidney Poitier’s unforgettable Mark Thackeray in To Sir With Love, who teaches urban high school students to respect themselves and each other, despite stubborn racial and social-class conflicts.  He tells his students:  ”…I teach you truths. My truths.”

These movie teachers touch upon a reason why we teach:  we have ideals and truths that we bring to the classroom and that fuel our desire to continue in the face of sometimes daunting odds.  They keep us going because ideals are our deeply held beliefs about what’s important and what’s right.  Using ideals to guide us makes teaching richer and makes the world a better place.

Holding on to your teaching  ideals today is challenging. Teaching today is more demanding and complex than ever before.  New teachers I know spend 6 days a week teaching classes, going to meetings, doing curriculum work, conferencing with parents, students, and specialists, planning lessons, assessing student work, and completing endless other tasks.  In such an atmosphere, it it’s easy to forget that goodness, truth, and beauty, and (your ideals here) do matter in the world.

For these reasons, it’s important to know your ideals and articulate them into your teaching philosophy.  When you do this, you create a tangible touchstone for yourself that helps guide your work.

Consider how Miss Brodie addresses her students on the first day of school.  She informs her students they are “the crème de la crème.”  Its meaning is direct and unmistakable. View a brief clip from the movie here and see what you have in common with Miss Brodie’s message.  It poses food for thought about what we say to our students and how we demonstrate our ideals.  Do we use challenging vocabulary? Who are our favorite artists?  Do we hang fine art in our classroom?  Do we state to our students that they’re the crème de la crème?

Like Miss Brodie, many teachers regard teaching as their vocation and are deeply devoted to their beliefs.  I think it’s because our journey to –and through—teaching is a uniquely personal one.  Mark Thackery didn’t realize how much he taught his students–and how much he learned from them–until he was ready to quit in frustration.  Stark differences in culture, experience and socioeconomics challenged every one of his truths until he surprised himself by deciding to stay.

Whether you’re teaching high school, elementary, or–like Miss Brodie–middle schoolers, we all have deeply held beliefs about teaching and why we choose to teach.  Remember to keep them on your mind and celebrate their growth.