Art'sCool

October 28, 2013

L. Rafael Reif, the president of MIT, recently stated, “I am convinced that digital learning is the most important innovation in education since the printing press.”  But what form does digital learning in the classroom take? 

For a teacher who rates him/herself  as low on the “tech savviness” spectrum, transforming instruction and redefining learning in the classroom can seem overwhelming – certainly a compelling reason for effective, meaningful professional development as the debate continues over the use of digital worksheets in the classroom (particularly if/when such a practice is viewed as a stepping stone – or step ladder? – for a teacher looking to increase his/her confidence with using technology in the classroom).

However, rather than delve further into that debate for now, I’d like instead to consider the teacher who – even if a bit anxious due to the vast alternatives and options available for teaching/learning with technology – can see the difference technology can make in the classroom versus the teacher who cannot even visualize technology’s potential.

This contrast makes me think of the movie “Singing in the Rain,” which depicts the struggles endured by the believers and the nay-sayers as movies transitioned from silent films to “talkies.” 

In the movie, a man in a talking picture demonstration says, “Hello! This is a demonstration of a talking picture. Notice, it is a picture of me and I am talking. Note how my lips and the sound issuing from them are synchronized together in perfect unison.”

After the demonstration, one character asks, “What do you think of it, Dexter? “

“It'll never amount to a thing,” Dexter answers. 

Another snorts, “Its vulgar!”

Cosmo Brown, the character played by Donald O’Connor quips, “That's what they said about the horseless carriage” – and of course, Cosmo is the one who ultimately sees the potential of sound to turn The Dueling Cavalier into a musical called The Dancing Cavalier.

Who are the Dexters on your staff?  Who are the Cosmos? 

True, a teacher new to or unaccustomed with tech applications and methodologies will need support and effective professional development – but PD and assistance will all be for naught if the Dexters don’t even have the vision. 

October 28, 2013

We have a new show in our "I'll Be Art In A Minute Bathroom & Art Gallery":  "Chuck Pinson, Art with Meaning."

Pinson is the brother-in-law to Carrie Ann Pinson, one of the teachers at our school. He was kind enough to send us 5x7 photos of his work for us to display in our gallery.

For more information on Chuck Pinson and his artwork, click HERE. 

For more information on our bathroom/art gallery, click HERE. 

September 24, 2013

Recently I have been posting my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson.”  So far I have posted entries 10 through 2, so below is numero uno. However, before any drum roll and the unveiling of my top-rated reference, let me say a few words about two poems by E. E. Cummings.

In the past, when I introduced poetry units to students, I would always start by using two works by E. E. Cummings, “l(a” (see my blog post HERE) and “old age sticks” (see my post HERE). Students always love the innovative approach Cummings used with the structure and placement of words and letters to create effect and understanding beyond the surface meaning. Students are always excited by his inventive use of language, and they are inspired by their own varied interpretations. To maintain their enthusiasm and interest, I often follow the lessons on Cummings with an exercise centered around a poem by Emily Dickinson, the top-rated poem on my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson.” Before I actually share the poem with them – or even the first line – here’s what I do: I project a picture of a crescent moon, and I challenge the class to see if they can figure out the exact image that Dickinson used to describe it. The students are intrigued and begin to offer ideas which could suggest a crescent moon: a canoe; a banana; a hammock; the letter “C”; an apostrophe or comma; and so on.

What does a crescent moon look like to you?

In my experience, the list of ideas can grow quite extensively, but students never guess that Dickinson’s crescent moon is a chin — an image that works beautifully as her metaphor progresses: The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Face Upon the World below— That image – the face of the moon turning full-on toward the Earth – tops my “Top Ten” list.

I will admit, though, that when presenting this poem in its entirety there can be issues with vocabulary and comprehension. However, that’s where the shared experience of reviewing Cummings’ “l(a” comes in handy because the students will easily recall the lesson learned about taking time to appreciate and consider concepts that are not entirely obvious from the start.

Here’s the entire poem:

September 17, 2013

I attend a function recently at UVA’s Fralin Museum where speakers discussed the Writer’s Eye program, an annual literary competition for children and adults.  The contest challenges contestants to submit original poems or stories inspired by selected works of art in the museum.  Local teachers judge the  submissions from school-aged youth, and published authors judge the entries from high school students, university students and adults.

A former judge was one of the speakers at the event, and she emphasized the importance for writers to use original imagery and “fresh” similes and metaphors.   “What, for example, does sadness sound like?” she asked.  "And don’t say like the wind or the doleful cry of a coyote.”

It’s difficult, though, to come up with spot-on images, similes, and metaphors that are entirely original, but that is exactly why the poem below ranks #2 on my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson”:

There's a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us; We can find no scar, But internal difference Where the meanings are. None may teach it anything, 'Tis the seal, despair,- An imperial affliction Sent us of the air. When it comes, the landscape listens, Shadows hold their breath; When it goes, 't is like the distance On the look of death.

Of course, each season includes its own draws and drawbacks.  The beauty – and the rainfall – of spring; the vitality – and the heat – of summer; the colors – and the yard work – of fall; the snowfall – and hazards – of winter. 

Dickinson opened her poem with an image of the shifting light that comes with winter, and she does it with an ingenious simile – one of my favorites in all of her poetry – that calls to mind the soul-shuddering notes of a mighty church organ: “There’s a certain slant of light, on winter afternoon, that oppresses, like the weight of cathedral tunes.”  Talk about a “fresh” metaphor!

September 16, 2013

We had the "Grand Opening" of our "I'll Be Art In A Minute Bathroom & Art Gallery" today in conjunction with our celebration of International Dot Day (based on the book The Dot by Peter Reynolds).

For information on the bathroom/gallery, click HERE.

Pictured below:  A tri-fold brochure about the gallery:

Pictured below: A before and after shot of our school's main entrance decorated for International Dot Day, pre-dots and post-dots.

Pictured below:  A "dot" bulletin board with students' dot artwork:

Pictured below:  The "I'll Be Art in A Minute Bathroom & Art Gallery" also includes students' dots:

September 14, 2013

Recently I have been posting my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson.”  To date I have posted entries 10 through 4.  Some of my entries have had connections – albeit negligible ones – to the field of education, others have not.   Entry number 3 on my list, below, has no connection to education; instead, it is wholly a glorification of the sun:

The Sun — just touched the Morning — The Morning — Happy thing — Supposed that He had come to dwell — And Life would all be Spring! She felt herself supremer — A Raised — Ethereal Thing! Henceforth — for Her — What Holiday! Meanwhile — Her wheeling King — Trailed — slow — along the Orchards — His haughty — spangled Hems — Leaving a new necessity! The want of Diadems! The Morning — fluttered — staggered — Felt feebly — for Her Crown — Her unanointed forehead — Henceforth — Her only One! 

In some of my previous selections, Dickinson has portrayed the sun as amazing – but humble;  constant – but indifferent;  friendly – but mysterious; independent – but sensitive.  In “The Sun – just touched the Morning,” the Sun is glorified as magnificent.

The poem is told from the perspective of “the Morning” who flutters and staggers in the presence of the glory of the Sun.  The sunrise is, in fact, so impressive that the Morning hopes that he has “come to dwell – and Life would all be Spring!”  In the company of the Sun, the Morning feels herself “supremer” – and “Henceforth – for Her – What Holiday!”

Hmmm…perhaps this poem could have a possible connection to education after all.  If the Sun were to establish that “Life would all be Spring,” then maybe we could exist perpetually in Spring Break? 

September 10, 2013

Some lyrics I once wrote for a Christmas song referenced all four seasons in just four short lines: 

From the shortest days of winter To the greenest days of spring To the hot July's in the summertime To the first frost autumn brings

What’s your favorite season?  Do you prefer the cool days of autumn over a sizzling stretch of summer?  Do you favor a quiet winter snowfall to a spectacle of springtime blooms?

Emily Dickinson’s acclamation to nature, “I taste a liquor never brewed” – where she adulates the splendor of an expanse of summer days – is #4 on my list of “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson”:

I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. When the landlord turn the drunken bee Out of the foxglove's door, When butterflies renounce their drams, I shall but drink the more! Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, And saints to windows run, To see the little tippler Leaning against the sun!

During a picture-perfect day of your favorite season, are you “Inebriate of air”?  Do you drink up the magnificence until like a “little Tippler,” you have to lean “against the Sun”?  Dickinson’s clever and creative comparison of her response to the beauty of the natural world to “drunkenness” is what landed this poem in the #4 slot on my list!

September 7, 2013

Now that the school year has started, teachers are setting annual goals – student achievement and personal goals.  PLC groups are establishing team goals.  Administrators are working with school leadership teams to develop goals for school improvement plans.  Our division’s school board recently updated their strategic plan and revised their goals and objectives.

In each case of goal setting, the process starts with self-reflection and self-analysis.

  Our school division’s teacher performance appraisal (TPA) system is a growth model, designed to meet the needs of individual teachers. Our TPA website notes that this model “attempts to provide more opportunities to elevate the discussion regarding best practices in education as well as the needs of the individual teacher in the professional development process.”

  The professional development process of our TPA begins with reflection and self-assessment.  Teachers review the seven domains of the TPA according to a rubric to reflect on where his or her current level of practice falls on a continuum.  Based upon the self-assessment, teachers develop annual goals that meet their needs in the professional development process.

  In some ways this process reminds me of the artistic tradition of the self-portrait. Self-portraits – where the artist reflects and depicts upon him/herself as the main character in a work of art – has been a practice of artists since the earliest times. What can be determined about an artist when viewing his or her self-portrait?  Is a self-portrait merely an exact representation of the artist or more of an abstract rendering? In either case, what can be inferred about the artist?  Are their clues in the likeness about the artist’s craft?  About the artist’s philosophy?  About the era of the portrait? 

  The school year is underway, and teachers are reflecting upon their practice as they complete self-assessments to guide them in developing annual goals.  They are looking in a mirror, so to speak, like an artist about to create a self-portrait – and in the tradition of the self-portrait, this is certainly a great opportunity for in-depth exploration into one’s practice. 

September 4, 2013

Recently I have been posting my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson.”  Some of the poems have had connections to the field of education.  For example, # 10 (HERE) and # 9 (HERE).  Others have had no connection to education:  #8 (HERE) and #7 (HERE).  With #6 on my list I drew a link to education – but I admit, it was quite a stretch (HERE).

Does the #5 poem on my list have a link to teaching?  Not on the surface, as it is a poem about the magnificence of a sunrise.  However, a premise of the poem – expectation and positivity – could, in fact, be related to our responsibilities of motivating and inspiring youth.

Here’s the poem:

When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place— Without the incident of Fame Or accident of Noise— The Earth has seemed to me a Drum, Pursued of little Boys

On the surface, Dickinson acknowledged that the magnificence of a sunrise is accomplished quite humbly on the part of the sun (“without the incident of Fame or accident of Noise”); however, the feat is so amazing, the Earth is as desirable as “a Drum / Pursued of little Boys” (and what little boy – or girl – wouldn’t want a drum?). 

However, Dickinson also noted that when the sun emerges, he leaves “a Day at every Door / A Deed in every place,” and implied that each morning is another chance to make the best of the coming day and the most of that day's work. 

Like my father-in-law used to say after he would greet people with a friendly good morning, "It's another day in which to excel.”

September 3, 2013

I don’t watch horror movies as a rule, but I did watch “Shaun of the Dead” recently because it’s billed as a zombie comedy – and I do want to be prepared for the coming Zombocalypse (Zombie Apocalypse).  I’m just not into “blood and guts” films – or should I say “blood and guts and brains” – but “Shaun of the Dead” did provide a lot of laughs. 

A particularly funny scene early in the film – when Shaun (played by Simon Pegg) commuted  to work –  foreshadowed the coming Zombocalypse.  As Shaun slogged to work, he and the other brain-dead and weary commuters on the sidewalks and public transportation looked more zombie-like than human.

What do zombies have to do with my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson”?  It’s the zombie-like behavior of Jack Frost in the #6 poem on my list:

Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on. The sun proceeds unmoved, To measure off another day, For an approving God.

Nature, in Dickinson’s poetry, is often portrayed as beautiful (A something in a summer’s noon – A depth – an Azure – a perfume –  Transcending ecstasy), gentle (Nature – the Gentlest Mother is Impatient of no child), delicate (I’ll tell you how the Sun rose – A Ribbon at a time), and prodigious (Spending Scarlet, like a Woman).

In a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, though, she noted that “Nature is a Haunted House,” and she often depicted nature as mysterious, inscrutable, and indifferent.  In “Apparently with no surprise,” for example, frost – the blond assassin – beheads the “happy flower” like an unrelenting zombie in “Shaun of the Dead” (and other zombie movies) – and just moves on “to measure off another day.”  

So this poem has no particular connection to education like entries #10 (HERE) and #9 (HERE) – unless you happen to walk through your school like a zombie merely "to measure off another day."  I trust, though, that that is not the case!  

September 2, 2013

I love three day weekends!  My wife and I were able to get away for a weekend trip, and I still have a day to catch up on loose ends at work before returning to school on Tuesday. 

On Saturday we drove to Williamsburg, and on Sunday we visited Jamestown.  At the site of the original Jamestown Fort we participated in an archeological tour, and our guide referred to a nearby statue of Pocahontas as “Pocagawea,” a mix of Pocahontas and Sacagawea.

“She looks more like our view of Sacagawea,” he said “than what she really looked like.”

A picture of the statue at Jamestown is at the top of this post on the left.  It was sculpted by William Ordway Partridge and erected in Jamestown in 1922.  The next picture is a depiction of Pocahontas from the 1995 Disney film “Pocahontas.”  Next to it is the 1616 etching by Simon Van De Passe who portrayed Pocahontas, an Algonquian, as a European.  The images at the far right are paintings of Algonquian women by John White, painted approximately ten years before Pocahontas’ birth.  The paintings show the traditional body and facial tattoos of Algonquian women.

Of course history is subjective and presented by the view of the historian.  Is the reporter a primary source or is the account from a witness?  Is the person vested in how the events are reported, or is he or she impartial?  Does the chronicler have expert knowledge? Or is much of an account merely one’s opinion?

I suppose I could write a post on determining relevant and reliable sources – and maybe I will one day as I have an excellent and fun exercise for that.  Instead, though, Partridge’s statue of Pocahontas made me think about teaching – and how teachers present information.  Not so much an examination of “subjective vs. objective” presentation of information or “fact vs. opinion” (again, that could be material for a future post); instead I wondered about the methodology of teachers in the 21st century.

When Partridge sculpted Pocahontas in 1922, I assume that he was influenced by sculptors that came before him, and I suspect that he used conventional methods of sculpting and a putative view of Pocahontas.  Therefore, Partridge's statue got me thinking about the practice of teaching. 

No doubt, teachers are influenced by teachers who taught them, and they adopt the methodologies which they have seen and which they deem to have been effective.  But I wonder as we move further into the 21st century if this approach to classroom instruction will be effective? 

Fortunately, my school division is leading the way in transforming classroom instruction to meet the demands of 21st century learning.  We have recognized seven pathways to guiding our work (Universal Design for Learning; Maker Curriculum; Project/Problem/Passion-Based Learning; Interactive Technologies; Connectivity; Instructional Tolerance; Choice and Comfort),  and we are examining the following questions:

   What will school look like a year from now (and beyond)?

   How will it sound?

   What will students be doing on a typical day?

   What choices will your students have in the classroom that they do not have now?

   What choices will your students have outside the classroom that they do not have now?

   What must we "let go of" in order to embrace this new vision?

   How will assessment be different?

   How will classroom management be different?

   How will instructional materials be different?

August 30, 2013

Recently I started posting my “Top Ten References To Nature By Emily Dickinson.”  Number 10 (with a humorous link to education) is HERE, number 9 (with a disheartening connection to education) is HERE  and number 8 (with no association to the field of education) is HERE.

Number 7 is no specific poem; instead, it is Dickinson’s portrayal of the majesty of mountains.  Two examples are below:

  J-975 / F-970

The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair – His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere – The Seasons played around his knees Like Children round a sire – Grandfather of the Days is He Of Dawn, the Ancestor –

  J-757 / F-768 

The Mountains – grow unnoticed – Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion – Assistance – or Applause – In Their Eternal Faces The Sun – with just delight Looks long – and last – and golden – For fellowship – at night –

  I love Dickinson’s portrayal of mountains – in these poems and others – as magnanimous, paternal figures that watch over our days.  Her personification, imagery, and other poetic elements are spot on and inspired.  Whether a mountain “at a given distance in amber lies” or aged peaks “drip with sunset…by the Wizard Sun,” Dickinson’s depictions of mountains are magnificent!

August 29, 2013

Recently I began my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson,” and number 10 on my list included two poems with a humorous association to the field of education (HERE).  Number 9, on the other hand – when thought of from the perspective of education – incorporates a disheartening connection (HERE).  Number 8 on my list features no link to education at all.  Instead, it’s predominantly a joyful look at the splendors and mysteries of nature, appreciated all for beauty’s sake.

The Skies can't keep their secret! They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils! A Bird—by chance—that goes that way— Soft overhears the whole— If I should bribe the little Bird— Who knows but she would tell? I think I won't—however— It's finer—not to know— If Summer were an Axiom— What sorcery had Snow? So keep your secret—Father! I would not—if I could, Know what the Sapphire Fellows, do, In your new-fashioned world!

Of course, the poem takes a metaphorical turn in the third stanza – with the sudden apposition of the summer’s and the snow’s undisclosed axioms – and Dickinson suggests that the speaker may never know the mysteries of life and death.  The poet avows, though, that “It’s finer – not to know.” 

Two years later she wrote, “Beauty — be not caused — It Is.” 

August 28, 2013

We're having the grand opening for our new "I'll Be Art In A Minute Bathroom and Art Gallery" on September 16th -- with a student "Dot Day" exhibit -- and you're invited!  

How did this project come about?

1. A Little Bit of Kantian Philosophy

In “Pearls Before Breakfast,” an article in Washington Post Magazine a few years ago, the author noted, "In his Critique of Aesthetic Judgment, Kant argued that one's ability to appreciate beauty is related to one's ability to make moral judgments."  Talk about an argument for a focus on the arts!

2. The Impact of the Environmental Artworks of Christo & Jeanne-Claude

The website for Christo and Jeanne-Claude's projects states that their artworks are "entire environments, whether they are urban or rural.  The artists temporarily use one part of the environment.  In doing so, we see and perceive the whole environment with new eyes and a new consciousness.  the effect last longer than the actual work of art."

3. A Focus on School and Classroom Environment

Our division has rolled out various pathways for teachers to follow for effective teaching in the 21st century.  One of the pathways expands the “4 Cs” (critical thinking, collaboration, communication, and creative problem solving) to include “choice” (to increase student engagement) and “comfort” (to enhance student focus).

4. The High-Yield Instructional Strategies of Robert Marzano

The top-rated high-yield instructional strategy as identified by the research of Robert Marzano is “identifying similarities and differences” – particularly through the use of metaphor.  Therefore, the bathroom/art gallery stands as a visual metaphor to remind us that “environment matters,” and challenges teachers to consider ways they can transform their classroom environments.

5. A Focus on Creation vs. Destruction

Perhaps this idea can be summed up best with a  quote from Congresswoman Louise Slaughter:  “It is my firm belief that children who create do not destroy.  Arts are some of the greatest programs we can give to our children.”

August 26, 2013

Recently I posted the initial entry for my “Top Ten References to Nature by Emily Dickinson.”  Number 10 on my list was actually two short poems with a humorous connection to the field of education.  You can read them HERE.

Number 9 on my list can be interpreted in a number of different ways, and one of the analyses can, in fact, be related to education – albeit in a discouraging way.

Here’s the poem:

How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn't care about Careers And Exigencies never fears— Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity—

Of course, on a very literal level, this poem is about a rock – and as Forrest Gump’s mother might say, “A rock is as a rock does.”  Dickinson certainly reinforces the notion that “ignorance is bliss.”

In a disheartening analysis of the poem, the “happy little Stone” could represent the predictable nature of an instructor with a long-established, teacher-centered, conventional approach to teaching – passing out dated Xerox copies of worksheets to disengaged students in graveyard rows of desks.

August 24, 2013

New teachers to our school division reported to work three weeks ago.  Experienced teachers returned two weeks ago.  Our students started the new school year this past Wednesday.  Now it seems as though the summer never even happened.

  This fact reminds me of two poems by Emily Dickinson.  First, J-1472 (F-1491):

To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie – True Poems flee –

The other poem is J-1346 (F-1341):

As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say "The Summer" than "the Autumn," lest We turn the sun away,

And almost count it an Affront The presence to concede Of one however lovely, not The one that we have loved –

So we evade the charge of Years On one attempting shy The Circumvention of the Shaft Of Life's Declivity.

Though Dickinson herself was never a classroom teacher, both poems are certainly likely to strike a chord with educators – especially if read in August – because it seems that every year the summer disappears more quickly than the summer that came before. 

  Beyond the amusing connection to education, though, I love the depiction of summer in both of Dickinson’s poems – the first comparing the summer sky to poetry and the other relating the season to a stage in the passage of time in one’s life.

August 23, 2013

What comes to mind when you hear the word “discipline”?

If you’re a school teacher or administrator, does the word conjure up images of rules and punishments?  Disrespectful attitudes and disruptive behavior?  Non-compliance and transgressions? Warnings and referrals?

I suspect that with schools starting up around the county, there’s a lot of talk going on these days about rules and procedures, policies and punishments (I, too, am a guilty party in this).

But does it have to be that way?  Why not think of “discipline” from a positive outlook?  Why not present “discipline” from the perspective of orderly conduct – vs. disorderly behavior – as the result of training, effort and determination?

Irwin Greenberg, a past teacher at New York’s High School of Art and Design, the School of Visual Arts, and the Art Students League, once said, “One factor that makes a good and successful artist, is discipline.  It’s the essence of the whole thing.  And sadly,” he added, “many young artists today lack that quality.”

I wonder what the difference would be if we shifted the negative focus of “discipline” to a positive approach?  What if teachers wrote “referrals” on students and referred them to school administrators because of hard work and resolve?  Because of willpower and strength of character?