We're 7 minutes into our math block. The only sound I hear is the scritching of pencils on paper. Occasionally I'll hear a tsk and look up to see one of my 7th graders looking at her neighbor's paper and shaking her head. A lively debate is about to begin. 10 minutes into the block. My iPhone timer sounds and the kids race to raise their hands. They are eager and 75% of them have their hands up within 10 seconds. I wait another few seconds, looking around to see some of the usually less confident students who are ready to be called on, side by side with my keeners. I point to one and say their name. "Master ____". (The kids get a kick out of me calling them Master or Young Miss when they are engaged and ready to share their learning.) He's telling us his rationale for the 'imposter number'. "I notice that..." he begins, I beam at his logic. I pick another student who self describes as 'bad at math'. "I completely disagree. I chose my number because..." and her explanation is easily as convincing. Some students waiver as they re-examine their thought patterns, but I push on, calling on 3 more students, each with three different answers and equally valid logical reasonings. "I completely agree." I say with a smile on my face, ready for the groans. "BUT MRS. MOORE!! WHICH ONE IS RIGHT?" Comes the chorus. "That one." I say, pointing behind my shoulder in no general direction and we move on. They are unsatisfied and later at lunch I know I'll overhear a conversation in the hallway where one student won't give up on 'his' number. 23 minutes into the block. I am sitting at my stool height desk. Students are in a line to see me for help, but are also asking each other questions. Two students solve each others problems and head back to their desks to collaborate and teach each other. One student has completely moved through the unit in 4 days. He tested out and is sitting on my laptop learning trigonometry with Khan Academy. I work on the whiteboard giving students problems and helping them find their mistakes when they are done. "You divided the area by π but then what do you need to do before getting the pure radius?" A light shines and they nod, forgetting to verbally respond as they head back to their desk, muttering about the fixes they can make. To my left students are pulling out the answer keys to the worksheets and self checking their work on the standard they are trying to gain mastery of. 42 minutes into the block and I've gotten the same question 3 times. I call hands and half the students immediately look up, putting their hands in the air and are quiet waiting for me talk. I call the names of a couple of my talkers and soon the whole class is quiet. "Okay, I'm getting this question a lot, so let's go through it." I put up the problem on the board, keeping the latest asker right beside me. "Now, let's walk through it." As we go through the steps I can see several students realize they are either masters of this information, or it's way beyond them. They return to their work silently, not disturbing the kids who are listening and scrawling notes in their journals. I get through the impromptu mini lesson and assign a formative assessment to close out the block. The lesson takes 3 minutes. 3 minutes left, most students have handed in their 'exit slips', a quarter of a paper that I keep stacked by the desk for these moments. I'm going to be able to quickly look through them and know what students I need to pull for a more in depth walk through of this concept. All the students stack their journals and put away their worksheets. This math block is over but the kids walk out talking about some new concept they learned, or something they struggled with for the second or third day and still don't get. I know they're doing fine, and that they'll get there eventually. Our favorite quote, emblazoned everywhere "Math is not a language I speak. Not yet. I can't learn it by listening to people speak it at me, I have to practice it, to play with it. To make mistakes. Math isn't magic or mysterious." Does this happen everyday? Mostly. Teaching is a human practice so sometimes the students are squirrelly, or I'm not great at explaining things. But mostly, mostly it is this way. This is how we do math. I am teaching: out of control. The students pick the work they want to do (within the unit I've created), and they pace themselves. The Wall of Champions beckons them to try just a little harder, do just one more problem. They will get there, they can see their growth by a simple check of their Fresh Grade status. I can't brag enough about my kids. I am so proud of their work. The parents are crediting me, other teachers are spending hours after school asking me about my methodology, but really it's the kids. They have to buy into it and engage themselves. It's not hard, but it's certainly not easy to lose control, to give it over willingly. We've been told that the only way we'll get students to work is to force them into it, to catch the teachable moments, to find the educational backdoor. It's my experience (however limited) that the human condition is one of discovery and insatiable curiosity, all I have to do is get out of the way, say some well timed cheers, and give a few tips without giving students the full answer and they'll find their own path to the knowledge they seek.
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AuthorI respond to Sarah, Mrs. Moore, Mrs. Smoore, Miss Sarah, (and sometimes Mom!). I have been an DL (homeschool!) teacher for 2 years and am now a proud member of the SD35 team! Archives
September 2018
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