#currdevt

4/21 The dinner table conversation is a great way to have small groups discussing an issue — different aged family members can provide multiple points of view — this can be fishbowl style with one group discussing & others watching, and then giving turns to each student to step in (tag team style) and take on one of the roles at the table as the conversation continues. Or, as we did yesterday, in our drama in which Papa comes home to discuss Kieft’s plans to wage war on the Native Americans (and, as a member of Kieft’s Council of 12 advisors, wonders what he should advise Kieft) have five dinner table discussions happening simultaneously. Papa (Teacher 1) poses the problem in discussion with Mama (Teacher 2), while the kids (who back then were ‘seen and not heard’) listen in and have their own side conversations.

We told the kids that we teachers, in the role of the parents, would jump around and sit at various tables to insert comments (questions/prompts) into the conversation, but they are to imagine we are talking at their dinner table. The role of Papa and Mama is not to do all the talking, but to, little by little, drop the issues/questions surrounding the debate into the kids’ discussions: Why does Kieft think war is necessary? What would war mean for the Dutch? For the Lenape? For trade? Are there other alternatives? It also allows us to provide snippets of background information within the context of the drama (eg. past skirmishes with Native Americans that show that relations were not always smooth, which were then used to justify the war).

4/8/16 

4/5/16 

 A few months ago, we asked our students to make a Dutch meal out of construction paper for Morning Work. They loved it. They were quiet in a focused way, and noisy in a busy way — no explaining (well, a little for those who complicate things by reading too much into everything), no need to scaffold the thinking or demonstrate to the less skilled. They seemed so content working on the simple, 30-min project. We decided then that we should make morning work like this as often as possible — something fun, accessible, where they can make, do, be creative — we would never have any late students! 

Today is the 2nd day back for spring break — which means we haven't yet fallen behind or feel rushed to finish, when we haven't yet booked every last minute of the day. So Morning Work was wide open — how should we use that time? Immediately the mind goes to whether any of our lessons could use some preparatory thinking... But what would I want, walking in on the 2nd day back? At first I thought I'd want what anyone would naturally want: to 'do nothing' — socialize, knit, read my book — i.e. have choice time. But in thinking about it, that's not at all what I'd want. I wouldn't want to walk into a class or workshop and told I can do anything. I would want to do something purposeful — otherwise why be there? 

 Thinking about our staff mtgs — like today's PD on science, I'd love to walk in and immediately be confronted with a phenomenon to observe, experiment with, and 

- get right to work on making something, with a problem in mind

- explore interesting materials, in an open ended way 

 ...not with someone else's agenda that I'm being steered towards, but in which there's room to allow my own discoveries. 

 This reminds me of the Agency by Design workshop I took at this year's PEN conference. We took apart a mechanized object and thought about its 'system.' Examining a system — that's what all our studies ultimately are about. As we head into 'playing out' the co-existence of cultures on Mannahatta, we want them to think about each culture as a 'mystery way of life,' not just a Mystery Time and Place. Could we go from taking apart machinery to taking apart a system of people: recess games, Art vs Shop vs Spanish? Or examining the system of the African people in New Amsterdam? 

 Now the conundrum: give them an object to take apart — much more fun — or examine what they know about the Africans — which would connect beautifully to today's lesson? 

3/28/16 

 Walking in woods at Rockefeller State Park with Olivia, talking about colonialism, what makes learning history tedious (knowing events and dates) vs alive (who did what & why). We talked about what students learn about the American colonies in elementary school vs middle school & how much is actually retained 

I don't think it's about retention — I don't expect anything I'm teaching (facts, info) will be remembered. 

I hope to achieve 2 things: 

 1) to open students' eyes to the world around them, that there's more beyond themselves — in 3rd gr this means that there's more to NYC than what we see around us today 

Sometimes in my efforts to make experiences for my students meaningful, authentic and worthwhile, I subject every lesson to scrutiny and (over?)-analysis when planning it. What is the purpose? What understandings do we want students to walk away with? What’s the big idea? What do they need to experience? These questions are my mantras when designing even the most basic lesson, and answering these needs have led to curricula that allow kids to problem solve, embody multiple perspectives, use evidence-based reasoning to speculate and discover.

For example, our lesson on the interior of a colonial Dutch home in New Amsterdam has always been a simple exercise of identifying and naming the objects in a home. When planning the lesson, my third grade colleagues wondered if, this time, we could keep it as is, that we don’t need to revisit and revise everything: “Couldn’t we, from time to time, have a lesson that’s simple, straightforward and fun in the sense that they’re just finding, naming, even coloring in the picture (gasp!)?”

On the one hand, yes, there’s a certain relief about a lesson that feels easy for all–the teachers as well as students–in which the goals are evident and the tasks accessible. It feels good when students can relax into such an activity.

But I just can’t help myself. What’s the point of redrawing (copying) a picture or coloring it in? I can see the point of identifying and naming, and how coloring/drawing could aid students in noticing details, but still I had to ask: What do we want them to learn? What’s the big idea? (This question is not necessarily to reveal in the lesson, but serves as a guide for me when designing a lesson.)

- That the homes tried to replicate and preserve traditions from the Netherlands (their ‘real’ home).

- That the items found in Dutch colonial homes served the same functions as today, but 17th century technology and culture created different versions of it (ie. candles & lanterns for lights, a hearth for cooking, etc).

1/23/16

What experience can we give students that is meaningful, that helps them understand (through their experience) THE essential element of the topic of study? Today's lesson is on houses in New Amsterdam (exterior). Besides learning what the houses looked like (their features and functions),

What experiences do the students need to have? What is it that they need to do/feel to understand what is fundamental about New Amsterdam housing?

What would the settlers be grappling with?

Asking these questions makes me realize that it’s not so much about building the houses, or about the materials, and it’s more than just about living in the houses. One big idea of the study is the co-existence of different groups on Mannahatta and negotiating that relationship — so what did the settlers do when it came time to build houses and farms on land that was previously used by the Native Americans?

How can we structure that experience?

We used a drama frame for them to step into this confrontation of cultures:

They find a wigwam on ideal spot of land (we conveniently had a wigwam that the students built when they were studying the Lenape (see previous posts)

Set up scenario (town growing, need to expand beyond walls of fort)

We walk beyond the town walls (into the hallways and stairwells) to find an ideal spot, asking them to discuss what we’re looking for (streams, access to the river, good land for farming)

We find the wigwam and invite their reactions: Let's tear it down! But what about the natives?

Whole group convenes in a clearing (on rug) to discuss what to do: should we take down the wigwam and build here or not?

We signed a contract, so the land is ours.  What if they [the Native Americans] didn't understand what it said?  What if they get angry and want to fight?  They are peaceful people.