Let Your Students Teach You

Fifteen years ago, I had an idea.  Fortunately, I had a chemistry class that year that was game for me trying things out with them.  Together, we formulated what became the "Free Choice Project," so named because students could make a number of choices.  They can decide if they want to work alone or in a group.  If they wish to work in a group, they can choose their partners.  They can choose their topic, and they can choose just how deeply to delve into that topic (i.e. go deeply into a small aspect or cover a lot of the surface).   With the exception of the end date, they set their own timeline based on their own schedule and work preferences.  During the three months, they update me once per week on the progress of their work and whether or not they are keeping to their own timeline.  They are required to have a demonstration, but that it is mostly up to them how they do it (within the bounds of reason, legality, and safety). 

As a result of this project, I was asked questions that year that I had never been asked before.  One group, whose topic was fireworks, came to me and said, "Would it be alright if we brought a small amount of gasoline and a blowtorch?"  Questions like these took some mental navigation, but they showed that the kids were going to try some big things.  I'm on board with finding ways to make that happen whenever possible.

This project went well, so the following year, I implemented it in my physics class (mostly the same students, so I knew they could handle it).  This project is now done by three different teachers in my school across all of the levels of chemistry and physics.  The ones for my class have been presented for the last two weeks, and they are two of my favorite weeks of the year.  There are at least three reasons these are my favorite weeks.

1.  The variety of projects is staggering:  In the past two weeks, as 42 students have presented their projects, I have seen presentations ranging from the buoyancy boats and flight of airplanes (both real and paper) to knife throwing and the physics behind musical instruments.  One day included dog agility (with demonstrations from their actual dog) and flying fish, complete with a scale model of one to illustrate their fine construction.  I even watched a presentation on the physics of feces.  (You did, in fact, read that correctly; I had a project that explained why there are different sizes, colors, and consistencies to our daily bowel movements and how they are influenced by environmental conditions.)

2. They go big:  I already mentioned that in the first year, my students asked me things I had never been asked before.  That's never stopped.  When I introduce this project to my students, I always include the line, "Don't assume something can't happen until you ask."  There have been a few things over the years that were simply too dangerous to do (and I had to put some rules around the demonstration on the feces project), but most of what students want to do can be done with the proper planning.  The first presentation this year was from a pair of students who built a boat from PVC, plywood, and a tarp.  It was 24 feet long, requiring a boat trailer to put it in the lake and drone footage of their maiden voyage.  On Tuesday (or the next day it isn't raining in Raleigh), one of my students will actually fly a plane over our parking lot.

3.  I get to learn:  If you are a regular reader of this blog, you know that I believe strongly in modeling curiosity for students.  One of the main reasons I went into education is that I want to instill a love of learning in students for more than just the chapter or semester.  I want them to love knowledge and the act of acquiring it.  I want them to look at the world and say, "How does that work?" and then set about finding out.  This project allows them to see me as a learner while they teach the class.  I ask questions while they present, not for the purpose of evaluation, but for curiosity.  One of my favorite things about the presentation on flying fish is that it is a topic no one has ever chosen before, so I got to learn many things I didn't know before.

I'm sure this would look different in non-science classes and at different age levels, but if you have an opportunity to work topic choices, reading choices, writing choice, etc. into your classes, I highly recommend it.  While I am not a believer in purely personalized education, I am thoroughly on board with working appropriate levels of choice into your structure.  You'll be pleasantly surprised at what most students do when given the opportunity.

A Life Invested - Tribute to Henry Black

I didn't know Henry for very long.  We were RFK camp colleagues for six summers.  All together, between camp weeks and training days, that means we had only spent about 7 weeks together.  What you may not know about RFK is that the intensity of service to foster kids drives relationships deeper during those weeks than they do in the non-camp world.  Knowing Henry during these few weeks taught me much, and his death makes the world a dimmer place.  In tribute to Henry, I'd like to share a few of the lessons he taught everyone, especially those at Royal Family Kids Camp.

1.  Gentleness is not weakness.  The kids at RFK have lived difficult lives.  They have seen and experienced things that made them grow up too fast and become defensive.  Often, they arrive at camp with a tough front.  In their lives, vulnerability leads to bad things, so they have to pretend they are strong, whether or not they are.  When they met Henry, they met gentleness personified.  He was kind, but he was not weak.  I have no doubt that there are many adults in the world today who are kinder than they would have been if they had not seen Henry's example.


2.  You don't have to be loud to be heard.  Henry was the calmest man I've ever known.  I never heard his voice raised.  I don't think I ever heard his voice louder than 30dB.  Yet, I stood close to him at camp training because he said great things.  He was funny and profound and worth hearing.  When we planted a new camp, the woodworking director had been trained by Henry.  While the woodworking area is loud, he isn't.  Henry's influence carried over into more than one camp.  While this lesson was never explicitly stated, the kids who spent time at either of those woodworking stations saw what quiet influence was. 

3.  Doing something tangible with your hands is therapeutic.  I mentioned before that Henry was in charge of the woodworking station.  There is no part of camp that was more surprising to me than this station.  Before that first year, I pictured small projects in the realm of those little snap together kits you get at Lowes.  I arrived at camp to find real lumber and real tools.  Kids were building everything from bug catching boxes to chairs.  Yes, chairs that they could actually sit in.  In my second year as a counselor, I had a girl who pulled out a sheet of paper with a list of wood projects she wanted to make, mostly as gifts for family and friends.  She wanted to spend every activity time at the woodworking station.  When I asked her what she liked so much about woodworking, she said, "I can take home something real that I made and give it to people."  Make something real gave her a sense of accomplishment that she needed.  One of the most memorable moments I have from that year happened when I was with her, helping her make a jewelry box.  An angry seven-year-old boy arrived at the table with his cabin.  He didn't want to be there; he didn't want to make anything.  Henry calmly handed him a block of wood, a pile of nails, and a hammer and said, "Just hammer these."  For an hour, that boy pounded nails into a block of wood.  He started pounding them with anger, but by the end of the hour, he was laughing with his counselor while joyfully hammering these nails.  I'm not under the misconception that all of that boy's problems have now been solved because of an hour of hammering nails, but for that hour, he put his energy into something besides anger. 

Camp wasn't the only way in which Henry served the Lord (see his obituary here).  He was an active member of his church, and usher, a Royal Rangers commander.  He invested his life in others, and that investment is reaping eternal benefits.

Yes, You're Busy - Do it Anyway

This weekend was an extremely busy one for me.  Friday night was dinner with family friends that I haven't seen in a month.  Tomorrow is a yearbook deadline, and that always means spending the day at school proofreading and editing.  That usually starts at 6AM and end whenever it ends, which could be 10-12 hours, depending on the deadline and how well the staff has worked.  I will be speaking in our faculty meeting on Monday, so I had to get the presentation together for that. 

Back in October, I was supposed to attend a seminar by Manny Scott with two other teachers.  He ended up postponing that October date to this weekend.  When he first rescheduled, it didn't occur to me that this would be a yearbook deadline weekend.  Had a realized it at the time, I would probably have asked for a refund or sought out someone else to take my ticket.  I usually protect deadline weekends at all costs. 

As it turns out, I'm glad I didn't realize it.  The seminar was excellent, and hearing Manny Scott's story was worth going to school after 12:30 rather than the first thing in the morning.  I'll probably post more about this seminar another time, but I'm going to keep this short because, as I mentioned earlier, I've had a lot to do this weekend.  I just want to say this.  Yes, you do need to rest sometimes; but we lose a lot of experiences in the name of "self-care."  When there's an opportunity to have an experience that doesn't come along often, stop telling yourself how busy and tired you are.  Have the experience.  You'll be glad you did.

Don't Let Me Be in That Story

Friday, a colleague of mine was talking about how much he wished that he knew more about math.  He said, "I liked math until my geometry teacher . . . "  The rest of the story is fairly predictable.  Every teacher in the hallway had the same reaction, "Oooohhhh, please, don't let me be part of a story like that."

When you follow teachers online or attend back to school meetings or even just listen to a group of teachers talk, you will hear a lot of positive talk about our influence on students.  We are often encouraged to think back to "that one teacher" that made a difference for us.  We are told about how far reaching our impact can be.  We are encouraged to remember that what we do can put a kid on the right path.

All of that is true, and it is important for us to think about.  Every once in a while, we must force ourselves to recognize that the flip side is also true.  Our positive impact can carry far, but so can our negative impact.  Just as we can all point back to "that one teacher" who made a positive difference, most can also point to "that one teacher who made a negative difference.  We need to take active steps to not be "that one teacher."

We are human, and we will fail.  We will have bad days.  We will be snippier than we ought to be one day when we aren't feeling well.  We will make errors.  Those foibles will not make us "that one teacher" if we handle it correctly.  When we realize what we have done, we should own it, apologize to students, and make it right whenever that is possible.  Students will understand that we are human if we do not pretend that we aren't.  Letting them see you own and redeem a bad moment is more powerful than the bad moment itself, and it models an important life skill that they need to develop as well.

Unless you are remarkably mediocre, students will tell stories about you.  They will tell them today.  They will tell them tomorrow.  They will tell them to their children.  They will tell them decades from now.  What story do you want them to tell?  Live that story so they can.

Embracing the Average

The Dove company, makers of soap and other personal care products has established it's marketing as embracing the beauty of all.  They started with the Dove Evolution videos, in which they showed the transformation of a model from her everyday girl on the street look to her magazine ready look to show people that this ideal to which we all aspire is an illusion created by artists.

They followed up with the Dove Beauty Sketches: You're More Beautiful Than You Think videos.  These encouraged us to realize that while we focus on our flaws others do not.  I'm on board with this, and it has gotten Dove a lot of attention as these have gone viral.  There are others, but these are the two that became the most well known.

I applaud Dove for these efforts and hope they will continue to make women of all races, sizes, and looks learn to appreciate themselves.  They have one experiment that I take issue with, however, because it seems to be asking us to deny a basic fact.  It is the Choose Beautiful experiment.  They replaced the signs above the entrance doors to a store with the words "Average" and "Beautiful."  They then recorded women as they entered.  Any woman who is like me probably didn't notice the signs, to begin with, and just entered whichever door they habitually entered, but you can see in the video that some women saw and paused to consider their choice.  Here's where I am bothered rather than inspired.  Any woman who entered the door marked Average was stopped and told that she should embrace the idea that she is beautiful.

Let's recognize a couple of basic facts.  First, by definition, most people are average.  If everyone is beautiful, no one is beautiful.  I'm not saying that everyone doesn't have some uniquely beautiful thing about them or that everyone doesn't have some special gift.  I absolutely believe that God has given everyone what they need to do what he has given them to do.  However, the idea that no one should see themselves as average is just a silly idea.

Second, the most beautiful women don't look the same every day.  Perhaps she is sick or hasn't slept well.  She may know that she is less beautiful today than she normally is.

Third, and most importantly, let's stop thinking of average as a bad thing.  Average isn't bad.  It isn't ugly.  It isn't something to shun or deny.  It is exactly what it is.  It is average.  Our culture has become so obsessed with the superlative that we can't be satisfied anymore.  A meal isn't worth eating if it isn't the best meal I have ever eaten, worthy of posting on Instagram.  A Disney cruise is somehow deficient if I don't have the luxury passes for everything.  Prom isn't just supposed to be fun; it has to be magical.  We don't post pictures with a friend that says we are friends.  We say, "my whole heart."  Setting aside the idolatry of that, let's just address that it isn't true.  That person is not your whole heart.  No matter how good a friend they are to you, they are one person in your life that you love.

With the best of intentions, Dove took something away from the women who went through the average door.  They took away their sense of self-assessment.  The attempt to make everyone think they are beautiful seems loving, but it still means I have to believe you and not myself.  In the same way that kids who got trophies they hadn't earned actually felt worse when they looked at it, telling everyone to view themselves as beautiful is making them feel worse when they evaluate the image in the mirror.  Getting a compliment on something you don't personally believe to be commendable leads to insecurity and a sense of imposter's syndrome.  "If only they knew," you will think.

My blog is supposed to be about education, so let's look at this academically.  Telling every kid that they are the best student ever seems loving, but they know their weaknesses better than you do.  When you compliment something they feel bad about, it just makes them feel worse.  Instead, have them engage in some reflection.  If they don't like what they've done, don't tell them they are wrong.  Ask them why.  Ask them what they would do differently if they could do it again.  Teach them the humility to embrace the fact that they aren't the best at everything, but they can get better at anything.

Statistically, unless you are in a school for the academically gifted, you teach mostly average kids.  That means they will be very good at something and mediocre at others.  Embrace that, and teach them to embrace it.  They should want to grow in everything, which they can't do if they are already being told they are amazing at it.  Help them develop their strengths, and help them see how they can grow in their weaknesses.  Do not try to make them think they will be the best in the world at their weaknesses in the belief that it will be motivating.

Which door would you walk through?  Some of you may rightly walk through the "Beautiful" door.  I would walk through the "Average" door and then be proud of my self-awareness, but I have a long history of not caring what other people think.

Where Were Their Teachers?

I grew up in the '80s.  Adults in my life, whether it was my parents or my teachers or adults in my church, held certain expectations for my behavior and for my attitude toward them.  My parents did not require that my brother and I call them sir or ma'am, but they certainly did not accept backtalk from us either.  Some of my teachers did require us to address them as ma'am and sir while others did not.  We were expected to know the difference between those teachers and conform to those expectations.  If I had gotten in trouble at school for disrespect, my parents not only would not have come to the school to defend my actions, I would have been in trouble at home as well.  I'm not saying this was happening in every household without exception, but it was the norm.

Fast forward to 2019.  A group of Catholic school boys is in Washington DC on a school trip.  They are there to participate in the March for Life, the annual rally of pro-life people who want to bring a voice to the millions of unborn children being killed in medical clinics.  This is, in my opinion, a laudable activity for their school to invest in that aligns with their worldview.  Good for their school for bringing them to an activity like this.  There's a lot for them to learn in being part of a legal protest that aligns with their faith.  If only that is where this story ended.  Sadly, it is not.

See this article for a pretty good analysis of all the different videos.

There is rarely only one event happening in Washington DC at any given time.  There are often multiple protests from various groups, and January 18 was no exception.  In addition to the March for Life, there was also the Indigenous Peoples' March.  This is a rally for Native American groups to bring attention to the issues that affect them.  The fact that these two rallies overlap on the same day should be an example of American pluralism in action, right?  Two groups were there peaceably assemble to petition their government about issues for which they are passionate.  Both should have been able to complete their marches without incident, especially since they are not conflicting issues (after all, it wasn't like a NARAL march was scheduled to overlap with the March for Life).  If only that is where the story ended.  Sadly, it is not.

Because both marches overlapped near the Lincoln Memorial, the Indigenous Peoples' march began to attract attention from the March for Life.  There was also a group of Black Hebrew Israelites present, although it is unclear to me whether they were part of an official march or just there.  The boys from Covington Catholic were bothered by the statements of these people, which were, in fairness, designed to be offensive.  I mean, I would definitely be offended if I heard someone say "you worship blasphemy" at a rally.  I would be offended enough to turn my back and walk away.  It would not occur to me to start shouting my school's initials, pep rally style, in order to drown the statements out. 

Perhaps my understanding of free speech is flawed, but I was not taught that he who chants the loudest wins.  I was definitely taught to speak and to work for what I believed (and worked for NC Right to Life for a number of years).  I was not taught that it was okay for me to drown out the speech of others. 

A particularly outspoken facebook friend of mine insists that the Native American man was harassing the students and that if I watched the full video, my perspective would change.  I watched it.  I see him stepping over to the area in which they were chanting, but I do not see that he is harassing them.  In an interview, he states that was trying to step between the students and the Black Hebrew Israelites because he thought he could diffuse the situation.  Even with video, the truth usually lies somewhere between two perspectives, but I definitely do not see him do anything that would cause them to circle him and start chanting at him. 

She asked me what crime they committed.  When did the standard of behavior we expect from our students stop at what is legal?  Did they have to commit a crime to be considered jerks?  No, they did nothing that would get them arrested, but they did do things that would have gotten me suspended from my private school.  Whether in behavior (chanting and jumping around) or in attitude (the boy who just smirks throughout the entire encounter), expectations would have been higher.

This brings me to the real question.  Where were their teachers? 

They were on a school trip.  I've been on school trips.  I've chaperoned school trips.  There is no way that I, as a teacher, would stand around watching this happen.  Whether you believe the kids were being jerks (or like my friend, believe they were being harassed), the lack of involvement of adults is most disturbing.  Shouldn't we be seeing them talking to their students about what is happening? Shouldn't we be seeing them modeling appropriate protest behavior for the students?  Shouldn't we be seeing their teachers step in to pull them away from this situation?  Shouldn't we be seeing them? 

We are teachers.  When we are with our students, whether on trips or in our classrooms, it is not our job to observe as bad things happen.  It is our job to teach.  Whether that is telling them that they are wrong or pulling them away from a situation where there could be danger, we should not be invisible.

I'm glad that the Catholic Diocese has issued an apology.  I'm glad they are investigating the behavior of their students.  I implore them, as a teacher, to investigate the apparent inaction of their teachers. 

The Small Things

This is going to be a short post because I just woke up from a nap and have that feeling that my head weighs a lot. 

Yesterday, my yearbook staff and I met a deadline that I truly did not believe we would make a week ago.  I posted on twitter and facebook a screenshot of a little message from Jostens that said, "Congratulations on meeting your deadline." in a little green bar.  A fellow yearbook teacher replied, "I love that green notification soooo much every time."  Even better, after the staff meets their final deadline, little fireworks appear on the screen.  Those fireworks are amazing.

It occurs to me that most people think of the big things in life (weddings, proms, expensive gifts, etc.) when they think of things that make them happy.  However, the vast majority of smiles in your life come from the small things, like tiny digital fireworks, the sound of your favorite shoes clicking against the ground, or when you catch the eye of a friend in a meeting, knowing that you two are having the same thought.

Just think of the joy Charlie Brown has in finding a pencil with the teeth marks of "that little red-headed girl" and realizing she's human.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKKjqzkGo3o

Let's teach our kids to find joy in little things instead of those things that must be bought or planned.  It doesn't even have to be put in your lesson plan.  You can just model it day in and day out.