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.