Fostering Initiative - A new mail system

Mail between classrooms has been on the rise ever since we began to read with our kindergarten buddies. My 1st/2nd grade class, (known as the Rainbow Garden class) decided that we needed a more organized system of mail delivery. In a general class discussion in which it was discovered that J. had an extra mailbox at home that we could use, the class went wild for the idea of establishing a Xara Garden School Postal Service.

Y and A took on the task of turning the concept into an organized reality. Below, you can read their “Mail Instruction Manual,” which includes a page of “Make Sures,” which I just love!  In case you can’t quite make out the second item on that list, it says, “The mail must be delivered to right class, for no confusion.” The speech bubbles and cartoons are quite clever, as well.

They came up with an address system and created posters for each class to educate them on how to correctly address their mail to friends in different classrooms. Y made a mail hat, which, before revision, carried the signage, “U.S. Male,” which seemed perfect for him. J and L painted the mailbox during a play date at J's house. A asked her mom to sew them a mail bag, and returned from the weekend with this amazing custom-made mail bag. 

During its first week in operation, the Xara Garden mailbox was stuffed with letters!  Our postal workers called a class meeting to work out a few start-up glitches that were discovered in the system.  Suggestions were made and problems were solved.  

By taking the initiative to launch this school-wide program, the children are learning that their ideas
make a difference to more than just themselves. They are gaining trust in their creativity and their ability to
solve the organizational challenges of a new system.  In the meantime, communication and leadership skills
are exercised and honed.  Can you get all this from a worksheet?  Most certainly not.

Light Fixture or Rocket Ship?

First Grade Engineers Exercise Ingenuity!

After discovering a discarded light fixture from the church renovation upstairs, J.and O. decided to repurpose it into a rocket ship. As they began formulating their plan, I realized this project would involve a lot of sophisticated math, and I wondered how much support they’d need.

First they needed to determine the circumference of the cylinder that would form the body of the rocket. To get them started, I used a piece of scrap paper to gauge the distance between the center post and the edge of one of the lampshades ... sorry, “rocket boosters.” Then they held that scrap over another piece of paper and made a mark at each end. Holding the center in one place and moving the other end of the paper a little bit, they made another mark on the outside edge of the scrap. They continued this until they had dots going in a full circle, and then connected the dots to create a circle just the right size to fit between the rocket boosters.

They decided to use salvaged cardboard to make the body of the rocket. All on their own, the two worked out that in order to make the rocket body get narrower as it went up, they’d need to make a series of cylinders out of the cardboard, with each one getting a bit smaller in circumference than the last. (See the concentric circles they drew on their plan?) They chose 6 inches as the height of each cylinder, which ended up working out really well for them, as you’ll see. At first, they decided that each cylinder would lose three inches each time, but after making two of them, O. said, “I think we shouldn’t take off three inches. We’re going to run out of inches by the time we get to our mark.”

By now, Y. and A. had joined the group. O. and A. measured the distance left to cover between their first two cylinders and the spot they’d marked off as the top of this section. They found it to be 36”, which they quickly realized equalled six more cylinders exactly. At this point, I helped them create a chart to work out what would happen if they subtracted three inches in circumference six more times. Though it was tricky subtracting three inches from 1 foot 1inch, they managed to figure it out, and discovered that by the time they got to the 6th additional cylinder, it would be too small. They guessed that subtracting two inches might work better, and after they made the calculations, it turned out to be a good solution.

While O. and A. measured and cut the cardboard for the rest of the rocket, J. and Y. formed the rectangles into cylinders, and taped and glued them into place. Once all pieces were on, they covered the whole thing with white tape to give it a cohesive, realistic look. They stamped their names on it, along with a prominent XGS for Xara Garden School, as finishing touches to the design of the rocket body.

They are now in the process of getting the electrical wiring to work so they can get the “rocket boosters” to light up.

Creativity, imagination, initiative, teamwork, problem-solving, persistence, curiosity, innovation, confidence … Isn't this precisely what our world needs?

An Unschooling School?

Can we make something better than schools? 

That was the question that jumped out at me on the brand new TED-ED forum when I signed on tonight.  It was written by a curriculum developer named Don Duggan-Haas, and it made me very excited about this new development by the TED people, who are taking their successful model of spreading ideas that matter into the realm of education reform. Yes! If you're passionate about education, check out that link!

Anyway, I just had to respond to Don's question, and I thought you might be interested in reading it, as well.  Here is what I wrote:

After teaching in the public schools for ten years, I'm now at a very alternative charter school (primary age) that doesn't look anything like the schools we all know.  There is little-to-no direct instruction, and the emphasis is on the social-emotional development of the children.  We are loosely designed around the Reggio-Emilia approach to early childhood education, with some Rudolf Steiner and Howard Gardner mixed in. Self-directed, constructivist, emergent curriculum, etc.

However, even here, I am wondering if we're fundamentally different enough.  I still question the motives and goals for school in the first place.  If we're no longer going to use school as a conformity factory, (and we still need to break out of that mode) what else can we do with it as the one institution through which we must all pass during our formative years?  How could we better use it to shape the kind of community members we envision ourselves becoming?  There are fantastic opportunities here, but we need to ask ourselves better questions than how to score higher than the Chinese on tests or how to get into "the best" colleges.

What would an "unschooling school" look like?  I think we're close at Xara Garden School, but we still worry about how the second graders will do on the state tests. We still have some parents asking us (unsuccessfully) for homework and more direct instruction. We still wonder how much we should "push the learning" in student-initiated projects vs. just letting them explore and enjoy their own process of discovery. 

  

The philosophy I employ in my teaching is this: If you're going to bring together any group of people (young or otherwise!) you need to have, first and foremost, an environment that provides a feeling of unequivocal safety and belonging, and creating that culture needs to be the top priority before anything else can be built.  Of course, there needs to be some purpose for coming together, so then you layer on an engaging environment with many provocations for exploring, learning, discussing, creating, and imagining in a variety of modes (7 intelligences, for example).  Beyond that, it needs to be responsive to the students' needs, and they need to feel ownership for the whole shebang.

In this type of environment, you can't have authoritative discipline, rewards and punishment, or it undermines the whole thing. Jane Nelsen's Positive Discipline is a great framework for creating that sense of safety and respect while still holding firm to boundaries.

That's all I have time for at the moment. I am very excited about this TED-ED initiative, and look forward to many great discussions!  Thanks, Don, for offering a great topic!

That was it.

Readers, I realize this isn't a well-developed post. It just barely touches on these topics. There is so much to say, and maybe you can help me.  Were there certain aspects of this post that you'd like to see me to develop further?  Did this bring up questions for you that you'd like me to address?  Please join in on the conversation. I'd love to hear from you!

Cheers!

Alexis

First Graders Finding the Silence

During our meditation this morning, as I got to the part in which I asked the kids to become aware of the silence, the world seemed out to sabotage us. Loud trucks rumbled by, jet engines roared endlessly, and it seemed there was no break in the environmental noise.

I was certainly not finding the silence.

When we came out of the meditation, I half-jokingly asked the children if any of them were able to find the silence. Thinking no one would have found it, their answers touched me and almost brought tears to my eyes:

I found it around the bird songs because I’m by the window. 
I found it in my breath.  
I found silence with the jet.  
I felt it in the middle.
I found the silence in the brief moments when the jet passed by.
I heard the silence between the jets. 
I found it between the window and the tree outside.
I found it between my breath and the jet.
I found it in my heart.

Then one handed me a tissue and said, “In case you actually cry.”

I love these guys!

Imagination and the Neighborhood Secret

A short walk from school, there is a tiny patch of hidden wildness almost completely surrounded by houses. As far as we could tell from Google Earth, there was only one entrance, so on the Friday before break, my students and I set out to find it and explore this secret space. (It’s more fun if it’s secret, don’t you think?)

Not knowing what to expect, we were delighted to find a small circle of giant old palm trees alongside a dry, winding creek bed. There was a bench inside, and a surprisingly squishy tree stump that soon transformed itself into a throne. “It almost looks like a magical fairy house,” I mused out loud. Our “fairies” immediately set to work sweeping and tending to their fairy home, making up fairy names for themselves, and creating all sorts of imaginative scenarios.

When we discovered someone’s patio furniture further up the trail, instead of letting that interfere with our fantasy fun, we decided this was the territory of some neighboring giants, and that we’d best not invade. Luckily, the guard post (a chair in a flower bed) was unattended and our presence was not noticed. We stealthily returned to our fairy home and resumed our work.

With all the imaginative play, it seemed a perfect time for some storytelling. I gathered the kids together under the palm fronds and told them a story about a beautiful garden, an uncaring king, a magical fairy, and the children who helped her. At the end of the story, one of the kids exclaimed, “Wait a minute! This was a TRUE story! You didn’t tell us this story was real!” Another chimed in, “This, right here, is the fairy’s house! Wow! Cool.” Everyone joined in on the wonderment as my assistant and I looked at one another in amusement and surprise. “Really?” said our looks to one another. “They really think it’s real?”

They remained in this imaginative space when we returned to school, asking to create some shared stories in a circle, each taking turns telling part of the story. They took their fairy personae with them to yard time, where they continued to gleefully act out ongoing fairy scenarios. Although one rather bossy fairy queen took advantage of her imaginary position of power, her minions didn't seem to mind being ordered about. They happily tended to the plants, swept, and did the queen's bidding.

What stayed with me about this day was the children’s ability to move so easily into a place of wonder and imagination, and their intense interest in fully inhabiting that space for as long as possible. This is what makes childhood so precious and unique, and is also what's largely missing from adult endeavors. To quote Einstein, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” I'm 100% behind that statement, and I'm grateful to be working in a place where I can actually walk that talk.

Ownership of Learning

With no set curriculum, a large part of my job at Xara Garden School is to take a lot of notes on what kids are doing and saying, so I can help guide them further along in their thinking and interests. One of the more formal ways these notes come together is in the weekly "documentation" or reflection pages I send home to the parents.  Since these are such great glimpses into specific moments in our classroom, I thought sharing them here would give you a nice "day-in-the-life" picture of what happens in our alternative school environment. To protect the children's privacy, I'll replace the names with letters, and will only include photos that don't show their faces.

Wondering About Wasps

On Monday, R was interested in painting a wasp during Open Choice time. After he
carefully painted and labeled everything he thought he knew about the red wasp, (along
with a Japanese beetle, too) he asked if he could share his knowledge with the class.
What ensued was a respectful discussion and questioning session, fueling further
exploration of the topic.

R: This is my painting that you can make, too. This is a red wasp. They are eleven times
more aggressive.This one here is a Japanese beetle. They have ten legs, antennae…
J: Are there really ten legs on a Japanese beetle? I thought they had six.
R: Oh darn.
F: Don’t be so hard on yourself.
M: What about the first bug?
R: (pointing to his labeled painting)This is the thorax, and here is where it spits out the honey.
F: Do you know if wasps make honey?
M: Do you think they are bees?
R: No, it’s not a bee. It’s an arachnid. They lay eggs, but ... maybe they don’t make honey.
F: Is there, like, a family? (meaning, what category of animal is it?)
Alexis: How might you find out answers to some of these questions?
(Assortment of suggestions of television and internet programs)
F: Or, instead of watching a TV program, you can go to the park and observe them.

The following day, R hunted down a book about insects. He was excited to learn and
share new information about wasps, even when it contradicted his earlier misconceptions.
This is a great example of constructivist learning. It doesn’t mean he discovers it all on
his own. But instead of being given a chunk of information, R had some ideas to begin
with, which raised some questions, sparking further searching, and resulting in an expansion
of understanding. That’s rich learning that he now owns.