My Weekend Made, or "I Proudly Steal Stuff"

Tonight, I worked my way through the first blog entries of my honors sophomore students. Some were truly interesting, and others were enlightening. A few were space fillers, as the authors attempted to find their footing and get back into the swing of school, into the habit of writing on a regular basis. I gave them a bit of a break this time. I know the feeling, but developing the habit of writing is like any other habit. To write well, one must write well, and do so on a regular basis. It reminds me of the wise words of one Jerry Marsh, a man who taught me many valuable lessons, inside and outside of the classroom. One summer during strength and conditioning, we talked about how some athletes saw squats as the key to increasing their speed. We squatted, and it does have a huge effect on explosiveness, power, and speed. However, some athletes were using squats and other lifts as replacements for work on the track or running hills. Mr. Marsh shared a little nugget with me that is so simple it is profound: "To run fast, you have to run fast." It is true. Writing is the same way. To write well one must write, and write well.

So I have a little empathy for the young people who are now embarking on the odyssey of writing a weekly blog. Most started this process last year with Mr. Bauer, and I have borrowed his activity and carried it on this year with those same students. We upped the word expectations (to the chagrin of the students in my classes), and I eliminated their "freebie week" which allowed them to skip a week and not post a blog. I told them that as freshmen, that week was appropriate, but as they have matured, the expectations have as well. They are a bright group, and they will get into the swing. I look forward to reading the offerings, as they will allow me to get yet another view into the minds and hearts of my students.  I know that some of you are questioning the wisdom of actually trying to peer into the mind of a sophomore, but I need the excitement such an endeavor offers.

So, the students began, or reinitiated the blogging process after four months off. One student has already posted her second entry, and I found myself energized and smiling after reading it. I won't identify her by name, but she is presenting herself as a bright and insightful young person. She selected her reaction to one of our class assignments as the topic for her second blog. Last week, we read a short story that played upon the themes of rites of passage. I was discussing the story with a colleague, fellow teacher and blogger Samantha Neill, and she was quite passionate about the fact that this story allows us to "do something more" regarding personal principles and personal beliefs. Because I am a teacher and want to do the best for my students, I will steal just about any idea, make it somewhat my own, and use it in my classes. Mrs. Neill brought up the Personal Code that is an important part of our senior curriculum. We wondered if there was some way to "sophomorize" that concept and use it in our classes. I love the idea of introducing some of the important reflective writing that our seniors do, such as the personal metaphor and personal code, at lower levels and then reaching back to them once the kids reach their senior year. It allows them to see how much they have grown as people and examine their writing and thinking in a more mature light.

So, honors sophomores were asked to write belief statements in several areas of their lives, and to then write a single action step for each of those beliefs statements. Finally, they combined the two statements in each area into one sentence, displaying the link between the belief and the action that must be taken to fulfill or display that belief. Many students found the assignment extremely difficult. I told them that this might be the case, and that I welcomed that. It it was a struggle, it meant they were actually thinking about the statement, and that could be difficult. The blogger of which I spoke made my weekend.  Below is a small section from her post:

"I liked this assignment a lot because I got to know myself better. I thought about my beliefs, and wrote them down on paper. This makes me more liable to pay attention to my thoughts, words, and actions, so that they correspond to my beliefs. If I had to summarize the point of the assignment, I would say that it was to help us figure out who we want to be, and how we plan to get there."

This young lady did a fairly good job of summarizing one of the objective of our assignment. She went on to state that putting her beliefs down does not mean they may not change in 2, 5, or 10  years, but they are the beliefs that she has now, and that she must consider her actions and whether or not they correspond to those beliefs. She also stated that the assignment was difficult because of what it asked the students to do, and that that is what made it a rewarding activity.

Why did this make my weekend? She was thinking, she was writing, she was writing about her thinking, she was thinking about her writing, and she was writing about the thinking she had done about the writing. That is neat. When a lesson actually works, and a student "gets it" and goes beyond, it is a special feeling. I tell my students that so much of what we do in class is not academic. It is not about the classroom and grades. It is about life. Thinking is a major part of that, or at least it should be.

So, thank you Andrew Bauer, Samantha Neill, and John Knapp for the ideas, which I unashamedly admit to stealing. Shoot, I steal from Greg Froese, Kiley Porter, Laurian Williams, Holly Kimble, Clay Manes, Jerry Marsh, Vicki Jewell, and many others as well. I have not yet boldly stolen from my Neighbor Amber, but I plan to do so. I am confident that many an idea will worm its way through my classroom "wall" and inspire me.

And on that happy note, I leave you. I have a class of blogs yet to read. I am looking forward to it. These kids are neat.

*I linked blogs of several of my friends and colleagues in the text above. Read them.

Why? (CR)

Last Friday, I gave my students a chance to ask me a question. It was the second day of school, and I had taken the introduction and orientation on the first day. I thought it was only right at that point to give the students an opportunity to dig a little deeper if they chose to do so, and in the directions that they felt would be interesting. I was surprised how few questions actually were scrawled on the board. There were the expected, such as the seniors who wrote, "What about Senior Projects?" That was practical, and we discussed the general plan for the Buhler tradition that has developed into a year-long quest through research and exploration. There were the slightly brave, such as the youth who messily penned the query "What happened to your finger?" I always look for that courageous soul who is willing to risk it so early in the year. I broke out the classic tale of a young derelict severing his digit during a botched pilfering of split-level home. It was neat. During one class period, however, a single word appeared on the board, and those three letters could quite possibly sum up the essence of meaningful education.

The question written on the board?

"Why?" 

No qualifier. No elaboration. No specifics. Simply "Why?"

This three letter word made my day. "Why" is my favorite question, if I have to choose just one question as my favorite.  History, or at least legend, tells us that Socrates based his methods of teach the youth of ancient Greece on "why". Even Bill and Ted were able to grasp the significance of that. In fact, "why" was so powerful, it led to Socrates being labeled a source of corruption and a threat to the establishment. It leads to contemplation and to exploration. It moves the mind.

I truly love when students begin to ask that question as they read, and it has led to amazing discussions and rabbit trails. Knowing that Juliet seemed to fall in love with the rival youth Romeo is simple. However, asking why she was so quick to fall in love with the young man, shortly after telling her mother and her nurse that marriage was an "honor not dreamed of",  leads to greater consideration. Mulling that question over and then offering possibly explanations can reveal much about the student responding as well. If a student immediately recognizes the fact that Juliet sees an example of passionless marriage in the union of her parents, and goes further to see Juliet's possible motivation for a quick twirl into wedded bliss as evidence that she wants to find a mate who lights the fires of passion within her, as opposed to the cold, business-like arrangement of her parents and the potential union to the much older Paris, that student is displaying a grasp of the world a bit more mature than the traditional freshman, as well as an insight into how some households do not live up to the Norman Rockwell image we have been led to believe exists in most American homes.  Pondering "Why?" in regards to the darkness found in Poe's twisted writings leads to an examination of a  tortured life, a life that some of our students can relate to, and perhaps find solace in the fact that another soul experienced hardship and turned to the pen in order to exorcise those demons. Peering deeper into the "why" behind the treatment the older brother inflicts upon an adoring Doodle in "The Scarlet Ibis" can reveal not only a student's understanding of the brother dynamic in a family but also the tenuous nature of love.

"Why" is a powerful tool. I have touched on but a sliver of the light that the word can shed on our reading, our thoughts, and our world. We were told at the beginning of the year to find our "Why" in regards to teaching.  One of the kids later in the day asked that question too. I won't get into that topic just yet; that discussion deserves its own space. I wrote earlier on the "why" behind writing. I will probably revisit that at some point as well. Those are both good whys to look at more closely from time to time.  Why? Well, that is the question, is it not?

Go Away, or I Shall Blog You a Second Time..."

Just a few random ramblings on a Sunday night, as I try to wind down from preparation for Mulvane, our week 2 opponent. I find that a difficult task, especially on Sundays such as this. I even typed up my lesson plans in Buhlerdocs, using full sentences and everything, as opposed to the usual cryptic code that outlines my purposes and approaches for the week.

Here it goes...

Losing is not a pleasurable experience.

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Sometimes, my children frighten me. Not in freaky Children of the Corn way, but in a good way. This evening, when I returned home from meetings, my wife told me that while our son was "helping" her make cookies (which consisted of agreeing to help her, and then telling her he would just to everything himself), Dylan used the word counterintuitive. In conversation, In a sentence, Without hesitation. Correctly. 

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Sometimes, I frighten myself, and not for the good reasons like my elevated vocabulary or startling self-awareness. No, sometimes the verbal excrement that spills from my mouth is ridiculous. It seems that at certain times, for no apparent reason, I channel the voice of a 12-year old boy from the 1980s. I realized that when my response to Dylan's question "What's up with the brownies?" was an immediate "What's up with your face?" Seriously? Was "Your mom's a brownie" too mature for the situation? I will admit, with undeniable shame, that those moments happen far to often for an individual of my age, education, and supposed intelligence. 

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If you place a group of three or four educated men in a room with three or four educated women and turn on Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail, most of the men will soon begin spouting lines from the film, often at times minutes or even hours away in the actual showing of the film, and most of the women will chuckle and spend the majority of the movie glancing at the men with a look somewhere between mild befuddlement and complete distain. Or they will enjoy themselves by laughing at how a group of grown men can find political satire and clomping coconuts equally humorous. "Must be the King..."

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I know this is short, but I must end now. You're welcome.

I will be posting as regularly as possible in the near future, as I have told my honors sophomores that I too will be held to the every Wednesday due date for our weekly blogs. I have a feeling they will call me out if I fail to meet my commitment. It would be horrible to fail my own class. 

And that's all I have to say about that.