I love the Week in Rap, where the news of the day is transformed into a rap song with images. I have to use it more in my classroom. Well, the most recent post is not just a week, but 18 years in rap as a way to celebrate all of those kids graduating high school. What a great idea and watching it is like stepping back in time … to a beat.
Peace (in the times),
Kevin
Last night was one of those turning moments for us as our youngest child took part in a “graduation ceremony” at his preschool — the same place where his older brothers went and the same place where we have been very connected for at least the past eight years. It’s unusual in that the little guy had the same two teachers — Paul and Scott — that his older brother had during his year at the school. They are dynamic teachers and bring out the best in kids.
Last night, as part of the ceremony, the preschool class (which had been learning about Greek Myths all year) put up a stage production of some Greek Myth stories, toned down to the appropriate level. It was very cool. My son was Poseidon, making the waters swell by shaking a blue cloth up and down. I love how Paul and Scott make these classic stories come alive for the little minds and then let the kids help produce the play. It was beautiful chaos.
Now he leaves that school and enters another one next year as a kindergarten student. He’s ready but we will miss our preschool.
Peace (in the transition),
Kevin
Last night, I was part of a community meeting at our neighborhood school where my sons go (not where I teach) to interview the two finalists for principal. This is important to me because my youngest starts kindergarten there next year and the school has been sort of rudderless since our last principal left and an interim (now, for two years) was put in place by our superintendent.
Let me say, I was underwhelmed by both candidates, and that is frustrating to me.
Both finalists seemed like hard-working people with rich backgrounds in working with kids, although their strengths were clearly in opposite sides of the spectrum. One finalist is very child-centered (coming from an ESL background) while the other was about discipline and school climate (currently an administrator in that sort of position).
I paid careful attention to the vision they had for the school, particularly around literacy. One mentioned that they like the concept of writing workshop and Lucy Calkins, but didn’t convince me that they had an idea or plan for moving those ideas into the entire school. This finalist did talk about expanding texts beyond the basil readers now in use (good) but gave no specifics about how that would be done or what that would look like.
The other finalist talked about the use of personal narratives for students (good) but did not articulate a vision that put that kind of writing at the center of a vision. This finalist also danced across the line of criticizing Response to Intervention (RTI) until the superintendent informed him that the school uses RTI. (My thought: why didn’t this person ask about programs before this interview?)
I don’t know. Neither seems the kind of visionary our school needs, but then again, it is tough being principal these days and maybe the pool is shallower than I thought. Our last principal had clear visions, but she ruffled a lot of feathers along the way. Me? I say, ruffle them if it means improving the school.
Pet peeve: one of the finalists talked in educational jargon, peppering their answers with acronyms. I had to stop them a few times and ask them to explain what they were talking about for parents not well-versed in it. (remember, now, this is an unknown audience member interrupting them, asking to explain the concepts they were using in their answers). While a friend of mine later said this jargon speak was not a big deal for her, to me it indicated no sense of audience, and I wondered how that might translate into how they deal with teachers.
Peace (in the frustration),
Kevin
Over at our iAnthology writing site, this week’s writing prompt asked us to write about our “ideal classroom” from any perspective. Here is mine, which I ended up doing as a Bitstrip Comic, although the layout was done at a site called Classroom Architect, which is a no-frills option.
Note: this link will take you to the full-size image.
Peace (in the lay of the land),
Kevin
Well, this is a nice surprise. I was informed yesterday that I was a finalist in the Ypulse Totally Wired Teacher Award. The winner was another sixth grade teacher who has been doing some amazing things to connect kids and teachers around science. He deserved the top honors, for sure.
The award is sponsored by the Ypulse website, which provides content around kids and technology (Ypulse editor, Anastasia Goodstein, wrote the book: Totally Wired: What Teens & Tweens Are Really Doing Online); and Dell’s education division. As one of two finalists, I get a new Netbook for the classroom, so that’s pretty neat.
The site explains:
The goal of the award is to recognize a teacher who has overcome these challenges and is inspiring to both students and other educators. Dell’s support for this initiative is part of a longstanding commitment to supporting educators who lead by example, demonstrating for students the power of technology to enhance learning and achievement.
Peace (in the thanks),
Kevin
my wife is a Boston Red Sox fan, I still love her (we have a bit of a Yankees-Red Sox rivalry here in our house, in case that is not obvious.) I forgive her because she is such a wonderful mother and friend and wife. Plus, it helps that the Yankees are kicking some Red Sox butt this year.
Peace (in the comic world),
Kevin
In the 1990s, I was a newspaper reporter in Western Massachusetts and for about five years, I covered the small city of Northampton. While my main “beat” was education, I also became the secondary city reporter for some events. It was during my time there that I kept running into the Rev. Peter Ives, of the First Churches. When there were issues of domestic violence, he was there to talk through and push for changes. When there were racial issues, he was one of the voices calling for restraint, even in the midst of protest. He opened up the church sanctuary for all kinds of community events, although many were of the social justice nature. I came to respect and admire Rev. Ives, and his wife, over the years for their outspoken nature balanced with true compassion.
Flash forward a few years, and my wife and I are having our second son. My wife, who grew up in a church-going household, was seeking a religious home, and she chose the First Churches for our family. I was reconnected with Peter Ives and his wife, Jenny, on another level, and again, I was amazed at how open and supportive they were/are to everyone, no matter their religious, race, sexuality, whatever. Although I am not religious, I attend church periodically, and I am always blown away by Peter’s sermons — they are poetic, touching and full of meaning. He takes gospel, weaves it in with world events and makes the issues personal. Peter has always connected with my children, too, on a personal and spiritual level, and they respect him. It helps that he organizes three fun family football games a year, too.
Well, Peter is retiring from the ministry, and yesterday, the church service centered on Peter’s years as a teaching minister, and how he has helped guide 30 people over 30 years into religious leadership. As part of that celebration, I was honored to be asked to join our little church jazz band and choir for a jazzy rendition of “What a Wonderful World,” which seems appropriate for Peter and Jenny, as they seek to make the world a better place.
Peace (in the world),
Kevin
At my school, if we see a cell phone, we are supposed to take it away. Then, we give it to the principal, who has to call the parents come in for it. I have to admit, I have never taken a cell phone or mobile device from a student, but I have had discussions with students about keeping it out of my view and do not use it during school.
Isn’t that odd? Here I am, trying to show a path into technology and composing for my students, and I don’t allow them to use the single most important piece of technology many of them carry around with them all day long.
The graph above comes from a report just out from the Pew Internet & Family Life Project (these folks needs a huge round of applause for their work in making data available) around teens and their cell phones, particularly around text messaging.
Some of the findings in the report, which is entitled Teens and Mobile Phones:
But I am fascinated by how schools are dealing with cell phones and mobile devices. Most, like mine, have antiquated notions of the “disruptions” that can be caused by the devices. Few see the mobile devices as possible tools for learning.
And that has included me, to some degree. I don’t have much experience with cell phones (mine is an old version that barely functions as a phone) but I know there is something there “there” that we should figure out. I realize there are impediments — different phones have different services and Apps; the equity and access issues; parental permissions; and more.
Still, when we think about young people writing, the cell phone has certainly become a natural slate for ideas. How do we tap that?
Peace (in the Pew),
Kevin
An article that I wrote about using Glogster and other online postering projects (Digital posters: Composing with an Online Canvas) was published yesterday at the Learnnc website (and also, at its companion site, Instructify). I tried to show the possibilities and also, the rationale for using an online postering site.
I hope folks find it useful.
The Glog above is part of an environmental unit that we did around the reading of the novel, Flush by Carl Hiassan.
Peace (on the posters),
Kevin
Bud Hunt, aka Bud the Teacher (and Bud the Poet, and Bud the Daddy, and Bud the Bowler) has been posting some pretty interesting photographs at his blog site this month, and asking that folks be inspired and write poetry. I get up in the morning, wondering what he will have posted today, and somehow, I find a poem in the morning darkness. I like that kind of inspired writing. Some of my poems are disposable, but others could be worked on in the future. You’ll notice that I am using Vocaroo to podcast my poems, so if you want to hear me reading my writing, you can follow those links at the end of each poem.
Here are few poems from this week that I wrote that have some potential:
My walls are crawling with sound;
echoes of the past seeping in
through the pores
of the duct tape repairs hastily made to photographs
falling to the floor as a result of the pounding
of small feet, up and down the stairs,
as if the treadmill here never ends and is always in motion.We’ve placed our lives on top of the others who were here before us,
layering our laughter and sadness and kindness and cruelty
on top of their own: a symphony of living.In early mornings, when no one is awake but the cat and I,
I clandestinely peel back the wood paneling to get a glimpse
of those who were here before us,
as if some secret to a long life is hidden there behind the facade —
a Chinese fortune inside the cookie shell —
yet all I ever find are uneven walls, unused nail hooks, paint splatters
and a few tattered remains of paper scratched with small indecipherable scribbles,
which I suppose is what we mostly leave behind anyway,
for those who will come after us.
Dear computer,
Oh, how you have served me well these long mornings
as I have tapped away in near silence to the musings
of my mind.
I forgive you the re-starts, the pauses, the endless rebooting and even the lost files:
everyone has their difficulties and my fingers often run too fast
even for me.
You did not panic when the little green XO came into the house,
nor did you bat an eyelash when the laptop arrived like some long-distant cousin.
The open source Netbook did not scare you
and you were silent as a star as I breathed out excitement
about the Macbook at school.
The iTouch no doubt sent a quiver down your motherboard,
but it, too, has its place, in another room,
docked and loaded with music and games and almost out of sight,
out of mind.
Here, with you, I still come to write.
Here, with you, I still navigate the world.
Here with you, I remain.
But I wonder …. will you still be here another year
or are you soon to be gone,
replaced with what the hipsters and hypersters all say will change the world?
I sense panic in your font, old friend, and can only say that we all adapt
when the price is low enough and the interest, great enough.
I remain, still stationary yours,
Me.
your movements
bewitch me:the way you shift on your toes
when you walk down the hallway
makes me feel as if the entire world
has tilted on its axisthe way you hold your pen
as your write your notes
in swirling, romantic lines as if being played
to rhythmic salsathe way you bend down to talk
to him with eyes wide open and full of interest
in all things Star Wars, Ninja Turtles and the distance
between Earth and Sunthe way you can sit so quietly
and just thinkwhile my mind rumbles with love
over these small moments
that make up the day.
Why is it that every time you whisper,
I see lightning
flashing across the horizon
with sharp lines snapping and crackling;
but whenever I hear myself talk,
I only hear thunder
rumbling deep inside
on inaudible frequencies that shimmer and fade.
Come join us for writing poems over at Bud’s blog. Come on. You can do it, too.
Peace (in the poems),
Kevin
