What has me up and at my laptop at 1:55 on this weekend morning is a phrase that crept into my mind as I turned the question of my students' learning over and over again in my mind.
Guerilla Education.
A quick Googling shows that the phrase has already been embraced by New York teacher of the year John Taylor Gatto, UrbanDictionary and some music outfit I cannot even pretend to categorise.
The term Guerilla Education came to my mind, however, while pondering the way to capitalise on the boundless enthusiasm my students tend to display the moment we step out of the classroom and off the clock. While the classroom experience is steadily evolving as the students and I dance the two-step of tentative ongoing assessment and feedback, our most meaningful exchanges seem to take place incidentally, in the hallway, the cafeteria, the washroom, the parking lot. Their curiosity is infinite as long as the experience is real.
So the question is how do I make the classroom experience more real, and the outside experience more educational?
My core group stays in one homeroom, which I have not quite outfitted to my liking yet. One sure way to set up a real experience is to let the students take charge of equipping and decorating the room. This allows students to practice the language for expressing opinions, agreeing and disagreeing and making decisions. All this language is also essential for group work in the class.
Inside the room there are several course-related mini-posters already. I would like to add signs for "zones" where information for each subject can be posted. Also, I need bigger, brightly coloured posters on which large print A4 printouts can be pasted.
The teacher's desk has been something of an obstacle in the classroom. It takes up a lot of space and somehow always seems to be between me and the class. It also sends an unequivocal message about the supposed locus of control in the classroom. This needs to change: the students are in charge of their learning. Not me. I have decided to move this desk right next to the side wall, perpendicular to the "front" of the room.
I say "front", because by moving the teacher's desk and some of the other strategies I am devising, the room no longer really has a "front", except when the whiteboard is needed for segments of the lesson. This requires a complete rethink of how lessons are presented - an issue which I constantly find myself needing to address.
I have designated one drawer for students' use, where they can find extra copies of all handouts and some sample work. With the desk-moving operation, I am expanding this: there will be signs allocating a subject to each drawer, as well as a sign for a stationery drawer. There will also be a drawer for newspapers and other authentic materials students may read when they choose to. All drawers are for students' use.
Another way to remove the "front" of the room is, of course, the grouping of desks. This can be done by having two sets of marks on the floor: one for three arcs facing the front, the other for small groups. The groups can also be marked by colours, which can be indicated with small stickers on the desks. Student groups can be varied by randomly handing out coloured cards to allocate students' seating for a particular activity.
A further weapon is a student whiteboard, which can be portable or affixed at the "back" of the room. This can be used during group work sessions. Students write on the board. When not in use, this board can also show important information.
To encourage involvement and active literacy rituals, a class bulletin board can do wonders. This can be used for course-related postings, preferably student-generated, for random posts by students or even real-life notices, like advertisements and the like. Wouldn't it be great to see students huddled round the bulletin board in breaks?
We also definitely need a map of the world.
What if the classroom became a hive of activity? What if there were always something fruitful and stimulating for the fast workers to do when they finished? What if the university class were more like a lab or a studio or even a kindergarten playroom?
Another strategy is to take language learning materials out of the room in a very literal sense. Our students spend a lot of time just hanging around in the open hall between classes (both, incidentally, in space and time). I have been covering spelling with my students by working spelling words into a rhyme and illustrating it. If these were posted in the hallway, would my students start teaching others what they are learning? Would some of the words sink in? Would there be guerilla peer teaching?
I do not know these little tactics will be successful. But in the scientific spirit of enquiry, I am going to try them. And I will report back.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Microscopic; Macroscopic
A very short entry in the crisp predawn… about taking a microscopic and macroscopic view of the learning process. Say the “learning process”, because in terms of results this mysterious process often overrides mundane things like syllabi and curricula.
I was prompted to write this because I just realised that I have been thinking about the lessons of the coming weeks, rather than today alone. As a beginning teacher, I found it impossible to think past the boulder of this day’s lessons. Later I began to force myself to think about this lesson within the unit, the semester and the curriculum. This morning I noticed that it has been happening of its own accord recently.
In a game of chess, each single tactical move counts, but it exists within a larger strategy for winning the game. Education is the same. Every minute of every lesson is important, but weaving this together over weeks and semesters is what allows meaningful building of knowledge, review and, ultimately, recall and application of new principles by learners.
After the initial learning curve, one’s development as a teacher can be difficult to define. It is inspiring when a burgeoning skill shows itself.
I was prompted to write this because I just realised that I have been thinking about the lessons of the coming weeks, rather than today alone. As a beginning teacher, I found it impossible to think past the boulder of this day’s lessons. Later I began to force myself to think about this lesson within the unit, the semester and the curriculum. This morning I noticed that it has been happening of its own accord recently.
In a game of chess, each single tactical move counts, but it exists within a larger strategy for winning the game. Education is the same. Every minute of every lesson is important, but weaving this together over weeks and semesters is what allows meaningful building of knowledge, review and, ultimately, recall and application of new principles by learners.
After the initial learning curve, one’s development as a teacher can be difficult to define. It is inspiring when a burgeoning skill shows itself.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
DIY, Teacher!
As an apt piece of graffiti on many an art school wall would have it, “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” This statement tends to provoke anything from indignation to outright denial from teachers. Whether it is true or not, of course, depends on many things. Yet the vague sense of unsettlement the statement provokes is a challenge to every teacher. We cannot afford for this to be true.
One area where teachers often “can”, but fail to prove it to their students, is writing, and particularly writing for reports and projects. Teachers easily hand out writing and project assignments, but cannot always show students a finished product. Barely ever can they present students with evidence that they, themselves, have done this self-same project.
Of course there are reasons for this, and heaven knows teachers have enough on their plates without adding writing assignments. Yet I have often found that actually doing a writing assignment or project, step by step, before passing it on to students, has exponential benefits.
First of all, it reminds me of the daunting immensity of the assignment – something a teacher can easily disregard. Secondly, it clarifies the planning and execution process, which allows me to better deliver the preliminary stages to students, helping them do better planning. Thirdly, it allows me to anticipate problems before they crop up, improving both the potential quality of student work and the mood of the marking process. Furthermore, it gives me a ready-made, exemplary (hopefully!) sample to show students. This sparks students’ imaginations, and I have often seen that it propels them to greater heights. And finally, it proves that not only do I teach… I CAN. This is infinitely reassuring, not only for the students, but also to myself.
In the past I have often piloted a writing assignment or project in this way, and always found it immensely effective. One of my favourites is the video created as the culminating project of my Language Through Arts course for teacher trainees, where I was always just a few teetering steps ahead of the students, modelling everything from creating puppets and props, to plotting, storyboarding, scripting and filming. It was an exhilarating stretch for me, and stimulated unknown excellence among the students. I am still disproportionately proud of the (admittedly modest) result, and the students felt the same about their work.
My current exploit is to model a research project for my Advanced Foundation students. Although they have free choice on their topic, I will ask them to investigate a problem relevant to students at this college. My sample writing project is called “A Sound Mind in a Sound Student Body”, and addresses the relationship between student health and achievement. It models not only the research process, but also the possibility of pursuing a personal interest through one’s research. In the first class, I am kicking off by handing each student a questionnaire on their health and lifestyle, which will be analysed as a source of primary data. In addition to the research report and presentation (which, of course, will be available on my Youtube channel), I will post the project on a companion website which will document the project process. This can then be accessed by all students and other teachers as a resource and example.
Many teachers would argue that none of this is necessary. It is perfectly possible, they would say, to present a project and evoke quality student work without the DIY. This has, of course, been done. Personally, though, I believe the empathising, insightful process of the DIY makes a course more meaningful, both to students and teachers. I look forward to this project, and the whole new world it will evoke for students.
One area where teachers often “can”, but fail to prove it to their students, is writing, and particularly writing for reports and projects. Teachers easily hand out writing and project assignments, but cannot always show students a finished product. Barely ever can they present students with evidence that they, themselves, have done this self-same project.
Of course there are reasons for this, and heaven knows teachers have enough on their plates without adding writing assignments. Yet I have often found that actually doing a writing assignment or project, step by step, before passing it on to students, has exponential benefits.
First of all, it reminds me of the daunting immensity of the assignment – something a teacher can easily disregard. Secondly, it clarifies the planning and execution process, which allows me to better deliver the preliminary stages to students, helping them do better planning. Thirdly, it allows me to anticipate problems before they crop up, improving both the potential quality of student work and the mood of the marking process. Furthermore, it gives me a ready-made, exemplary (hopefully!) sample to show students. This sparks students’ imaginations, and I have often seen that it propels them to greater heights. And finally, it proves that not only do I teach… I CAN. This is infinitely reassuring, not only for the students, but also to myself.
In the past I have often piloted a writing assignment or project in this way, and always found it immensely effective. One of my favourites is the video created as the culminating project of my Language Through Arts course for teacher trainees, where I was always just a few teetering steps ahead of the students, modelling everything from creating puppets and props, to plotting, storyboarding, scripting and filming. It was an exhilarating stretch for me, and stimulated unknown excellence among the students. I am still disproportionately proud of the (admittedly modest) result, and the students felt the same about their work.
My current exploit is to model a research project for my Advanced Foundation students. Although they have free choice on their topic, I will ask them to investigate a problem relevant to students at this college. My sample writing project is called “A Sound Mind in a Sound Student Body”, and addresses the relationship between student health and achievement. It models not only the research process, but also the possibility of pursuing a personal interest through one’s research. In the first class, I am kicking off by handing each student a questionnaire on their health and lifestyle, which will be analysed as a source of primary data. In addition to the research report and presentation (which, of course, will be available on my Youtube channel), I will post the project on a companion website which will document the project process. This can then be accessed by all students and other teachers as a resource and example.
Many teachers would argue that none of this is necessary. It is perfectly possible, they would say, to present a project and evoke quality student work without the DIY. This has, of course, been done. Personally, though, I believe the empathising, insightful process of the DIY makes a course more meaningful, both to students and teachers. I look forward to this project, and the whole new world it will evoke for students.
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