Before last week's tests began, my students worked so hard and did me proud. My advisor observed me the day before the math testing began. They started that day with a math lesson on measurement, then we did storytelling, which they hadn't done in a while, and learned about the word "artifact." They did an activity around how to look at artifacts.
Then, after lunch, they did a very challenging artifact study, behaving as if they were in a museum studying artifacts. We had to go back and reorganize the items, and ask that students not touch them, as that caused problems during the lesson, but we were able to regroup so that everyone was able to study them closely without touching. Nice recovery.
They were incredibly focused during the study, and did some beautiful work. They didn't want to stop, even though that artifact study went over an hour, and including the morning introduction, they had been doing artifact work for two hours. Between that and measurement, their brains were full, but they still did some scientific observation as part of their animal studies at the end of the day! Amazing.
The next day, Shamiqua* was really discouraged by the first day of the math test. She dragged her feet, and her coat, getting to the cafeteria. I had her and another girl, Oksana*, who is not known for her patience (unless *she* is trying to get ready, in which case she becomes enraged if you rush her at all- but anyway!). Shamiqua is shuffling down the hall at a glacial pace, coat dragging behind her; Oksana and I are 20 feet ahead, waiting for her to catch up. I figured Oksana would have some impatient comment for poor Shamiqua.
But no. In what was, for her, a very rare show of empathy, this is what Oksana did. She walked back to Shamiqua and stood beside her. Then, she matched her pace, step for step, all the way to the cafeteria. It took about 10 minutes, and every other class in the school, it seems like, pushed past them on the stairs, but it didn't matter. They were in their own slow space, not talking, but sharing nonetheless. I told Oksana she was my superstar for the day, and she gave me one of her very rare, non-smirking, very beautiful smiles, and said, "Why?"
*names are not real
Showing posts with label math. Show all posts
Showing posts with label math. Show all posts
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
Extreme Teaching
It's Spring Break, finally, and I am looking forward to the break. Not that I don't love my students. My placement at ABPS is wonderful. All the adults in the room work really well together, which is huge, since there's 5 of us. It's a joy and a pleasure and I learn so much watching Mr. Lee. But it is a workout: my husband calls it Extreme Teaching. New sport on ESPN 2.
Seriously: just for starters, you have a few students who need a lot of language to stay engaged, and you have a few who get about two words out of every sentence or phrase you utter. Everyone else is in between, so you have 30-45 seconds to focus their attention on something visual, and about 6 minutes before you lose them- pretty small window for a lesson. Then you have students who are really only engaged with movement or processes; others who hate such things and prefer to draw or look at visuals. I have a reading group that is four kids: two get easily discouraged, two who have noticeably fewer oral-language skills than the other two, and one who absolutely cannot sit still for longer than it takes him to read the text. It's tough. I have a math group of three students and they are in the same group because they don't have place value yet, but there the similarities end.
Individually they're unique, engaging, funny and wonderful. Some of them come from less than ideal circumstances, a few stories that will really break your heart in there as well. Most of them are mercurial in their moods- something small that you didn't catch can throw them into a black, unproductive mood for a long time. They cry a lot. They hit sometimes- too many times. They aren't as nice to each other as I'd like them to be. They're pretty darn hard on themselves, too.
So while I am already missing the morning hugs I get from many of them, I am also ready for a break.
Although I have to say, the moments that they are kind, and the displays of mature, calm behavior, (which are not at all infrequent) shine like stars in contrast to the many, many conversations we have as a group about mindfulness, about conflict and being conflict-solvers, about wasting time and saving time.
It's quite something to watch how they respond to these ideas. Even the students without a great deal of language can understand from the many, many examples we discuss. I think, on balance, these kids try harder for more of the day than your average students: there's fewer of them, nowhere to hide and Mr. Lee does not give them a pass. But it never seems to get easier to see how many things are so hard for them. I know they will miss school, too, although they may not miss me specifically. I hope they have some fun this week.
Seriously: just for starters, you have a few students who need a lot of language to stay engaged, and you have a few who get about two words out of every sentence or phrase you utter. Everyone else is in between, so you have 30-45 seconds to focus their attention on something visual, and about 6 minutes before you lose them- pretty small window for a lesson. Then you have students who are really only engaged with movement or processes; others who hate such things and prefer to draw or look at visuals. I have a reading group that is four kids: two get easily discouraged, two who have noticeably fewer oral-language skills than the other two, and one who absolutely cannot sit still for longer than it takes him to read the text. It's tough. I have a math group of three students and they are in the same group because they don't have place value yet, but there the similarities end.
Individually they're unique, engaging, funny and wonderful. Some of them come from less than ideal circumstances, a few stories that will really break your heart in there as well. Most of them are mercurial in their moods- something small that you didn't catch can throw them into a black, unproductive mood for a long time. They cry a lot. They hit sometimes- too many times. They aren't as nice to each other as I'd like them to be. They're pretty darn hard on themselves, too.
So while I am already missing the morning hugs I get from many of them, I am also ready for a break.
Although I have to say, the moments that they are kind, and the displays of mature, calm behavior, (which are not at all infrequent) shine like stars in contrast to the many, many conversations we have as a group about mindfulness, about conflict and being conflict-solvers, about wasting time and saving time.
It's quite something to watch how they respond to these ideas. Even the students without a great deal of language can understand from the many, many examples we discuss. I think, on balance, these kids try harder for more of the day than your average students: there's fewer of them, nowhere to hide and Mr. Lee does not give them a pass. But it never seems to get easier to see how many things are so hard for them. I know they will miss school, too, although they may not miss me specifically. I hope they have some fun this week.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Moneymoneymoneymoney
My students worked with money today. It was kinda neat-- we put a lot of coins on a tray and gave one to each table (I won't even tell you how much change Ms. Lee has in her closet). They were to sort the coins, look through them, become familiar with the different types, their characteristics, names, how much they're worth. Then they partnered for a game where they had to close their eyes and match the coin their partner gave them by feel. It was a good sensory experience, I think.
Interestingly, I had designed a place-value game called heads or tails that I did with the class a bit earlier this semester. It used 20 pennies, but for more advanced students I gave them 20 nickels or 20 dimes and let them count the value of the coins. They didn't seem to have a problem doing this, so I just assumed they had already learned about money.
For that lesson, and for this one, they were quite excited to be playing with real money and were VERY engaged. I partnered with one girl whose father is from Africa and mother is European, and they spend summers overseas. She and I played on the rug, near where the values and names of the coins were displayed. She clearly was not familiar with what they were called or how much they were each worth. We have several kids in the class who are expats, and I wonder whether they, too, only have a vague notion of US coins?
It would not surprise me. I grew up in Japan and I remember learning about US currency in a math workbook at school. It mystified me for a long time why a nickel was bigger than a dime. Made no sense.
Anyway. They loved it. I guess enthusiasm for math is good at any price (even the price of possibly fostering an obsession with money!) so I have noted this: math games with coins are sure to be a hit.
Interestingly, I had designed a place-value game called heads or tails that I did with the class a bit earlier this semester. It used 20 pennies, but for more advanced students I gave them 20 nickels or 20 dimes and let them count the value of the coins. They didn't seem to have a problem doing this, so I just assumed they had already learned about money.
For that lesson, and for this one, they were quite excited to be playing with real money and were VERY engaged. I partnered with one girl whose father is from Africa and mother is European, and they spend summers overseas. She and I played on the rug, near where the values and names of the coins were displayed. She clearly was not familiar with what they were called or how much they were each worth. We have several kids in the class who are expats, and I wonder whether they, too, only have a vague notion of US coins?
It would not surprise me. I grew up in Japan and I remember learning about US currency in a math workbook at school. It mystified me for a long time why a nickel was bigger than a dime. Made no sense.
Anyway. They loved it. I guess enthusiasm for math is good at any price (even the price of possibly fostering an obsession with money!) so I have noted this: math games with coins are sure to be a hit.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Atama sagemasu
Which, in Japanese, means literally, "I lower my head." You say it when you watch someone do something amazing; it's meant to convey admiration. I said this to myself after watching Ms. Lee wrap up my math lesson today.
I had designed a place-value game for one of my classes last semester, and tried it out while she was out last week. It needed some work, but she wanted to see it, so we tried it again today. We went over how I would introduce it, and they remembered playing it, so it went smoothly. I played with our odd student (we have 25 kids), everyone else in pairs, and she walked around to see them play.
I was about to do a share at the end of the class, and she asked if she could take over. Of course! I said. And she went to work.
She did something that I know you're supposed to do, and somehow I never manage to get as concrete I should: she modeled the way you score the game on the sheet I designed. This may seem like a detail, but it's how the kids "show their work" and they were all over the map with their recording methods, this time and last time. She managed to explain how to score it, get them to explain to themselves why and how to do it this way, and had the class doing a little mental math at the end to boot. Her words were well-chosen, and the demonstration was just right.
She also had a few great suggestions (and in hindsight, perhaps obvious!) improvements to the scoring sheet, and ways you could customize it for what you want to teach (20's, 100's, counting by 5's or 25's and so forth).
I realize how far I have yet to go until I can be pitch-perfect like that. But in the meantime, I think the penny finally dropped on modeling. I hope I can hang on to the "aha" moment long enough to try it out properly!
I had designed a place-value game for one of my classes last semester, and tried it out while she was out last week. It needed some work, but she wanted to see it, so we tried it again today. We went over how I would introduce it, and they remembered playing it, so it went smoothly. I played with our odd student (we have 25 kids), everyone else in pairs, and she walked around to see them play.
I was about to do a share at the end of the class, and she asked if she could take over. Of course! I said. And she went to work.
She did something that I know you're supposed to do, and somehow I never manage to get as concrete I should: she modeled the way you score the game on the sheet I designed. This may seem like a detail, but it's how the kids "show their work" and they were all over the map with their recording methods, this time and last time. She managed to explain how to score it, get them to explain to themselves why and how to do it this way, and had the class doing a little mental math at the end to boot. Her words were well-chosen, and the demonstration was just right.
She also had a few great suggestions (and in hindsight, perhaps obvious!) improvements to the scoring sheet, and ways you could customize it for what you want to teach (20's, 100's, counting by 5's or 25's and so forth).
I realize how far I have yet to go until I can be pitch-perfect like that. But in the meantime, I think the penny finally dropped on modeling. I hope I can hang on to the "aha" moment long enough to try it out properly!
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