The last time I was hauling dogs to the leash free park was when I owned a hatchback.  With Sneakers, the rules of the game have changed:  I'm car-less now, and TTC only allows pets during "off-peak" hours, so we had to get creative... Tats attached a trailer to her bike, and the dawg rides harnessed in, while admirers stop to point and smile and snap photos.

In this fashion Sneakers travels to the dog park, to puppy training and other locations around the city... when she is not riding the bus or subway, that is!

Like any important classroom routine, the use of devices and digital technology requires considerable input and practice up front to be effective throughout the year.  In my experience, "That doesn't work in my classroom" usually means "I didn't bother to set it up properly at the beginning of the year"!! 

This year, I've refined some of the ppts I used last year (which had been edited and repurposed from a file I had rec'd from my school earlier), and have included a specific lesson to promote discussion of various scenarios.  (Thanks to our instructional tech coach, Jim Cash, for sharing the "Digital Compass for the 21st Century” and scenarios, adapted from work by Mike Ribble!)

My plan is to begin by building on what students already know, like and worry about when it comes to digital technology to foster an introductory discussion about learning technology and appropriate use of BYOD.  After co-constructing some class norms (guided by our school and board policy, of course!), I'll introduce the digital compass to students, and have them work in groups to discuss scenarios and decide on the ethics.  Then we'll talk about different scenarios as a class, and add any needed norms to our class chart.

Finally, I'll have students review these scenarios and norms with their families, and get them to sign (and possibly comment on)  a condensed digital code of conduct when they register for an Edmodo account (more on that in an upcoming blog post).

The only thing that makes it even remotely okay that I am leaving is the knowledge that -- after I set up my classroom and prepare the first weeks of school -- I'll have three more days out here over the Labour Day weekend before really leaving.

This was supposed to be a blog post about classroom management, and structuring small groups in the rotary context for middle school, but I got sidetracked by a bit of a kitchen emergency…

A week ago, I was given a beautiful freshly picked head of romaine from an organic farmer nearby. When I got home, I put said head of lettuce, roots still attached, into a container of water on the kitchen counter, and promptly forgot about it.

Now, you might ask, how do you forget about a giant head of lettuce staring you in the face every time you walk into the kitchen? (Indeed, I had put the lovely Romaine in the center of the kitchen counter for that very reason, to call out to me and remind me to enjoy its fresh verdure for lunch this week.) 

Alas, the well-organized kitchen knows no enemy like a teacher in the midst of back-to-school planning! No, really, they should do a study on career teachers' brains a few weeks before school begins at the end of each summer… Half obsessed and with a crazed look in my eyes, I have been spending the better part of this week glued to my computer, brain racing furiously in all directions like the long tentacles of a deep sea jellyfish stretching nebulously through the murky waters of its ocean home feeling, feeling, and -- ah! -- finding every wisp of brilliant saliency, wrapping its fragile extension around said wisp and holding tight to it and a thousand others while its epicentre tries to absorb the nutrients from all the little bits simultaneously… 

But I digress. 

Back to the rotting lettuce. 

So, I had been sitting for some hours in front of my laptop, mapping out a mini unit on digital citizenship for the first week of school (yes, yes I'll post it soon!!!), when my already – long – rumbling stomach called out painfully once again to be fed. Despite my back to school obsession, my stomach's painful cry finally won out, and I wandered into the kitchen to see what scraps were left to eat; groceries were getting low, due to the fact that I was flying back to Toronto the next day, and had tried to carefully estimate how much food I might need, so as not to be wasteful.

It was then that the magnificent lettuce caught my eye… Or rather, should I say, its not-so-gentle aroma infiltrated my nose!

I leaned in a little closer and observed both by sight and scent that the lovely, green blossom was well past its prime. As I lifted the head of romaine out with one hand and grabbed the container of earthy, mouldy water with the other to clean up the mess, the stench that hit me was so repugnant I almost fell over at once, right there on the kitchen floor, lettuce and glass container still in hand. (I will spare readers a photo of the globby, growing science experiment that had begun to bond together bits of lettuce and glass container!)

I dashed to the kitchen sink, dumped everything inside and started running hot water and squirting dish soap, while a veritable army of fruit flies danced merrily around me. (While "flurry" what have sounded better here from a literary perspective, that would have been a wholly inaccurate descriptor; the sheer size of the infestation that had decided to make my lovely, organic romaine their home over the past week was enough to set up kitchen families that would disgrace the compost bins of every house on the island!)

The stench, oh, the stench!

And yet, the conservationist in me was desperate to salvage just a little salad from the ruins, for my lunch. (Ugh, when will I learn?!)

I chopped out a small and seemingly safe middle section of the lettuce, disposed of the rest, and moved to a less fruit-fly-infested part of the kitchen to see what I could concoct: while my nose valiantly fought the smell of rot and sewage, I pulled a few rubbery carrots out of the "crisper" to shred onto my little salad, and added some chopped and reasonably firm cherry tomatoes. 

A sprinkle of organic pumpkin seeds topped off the dish.

Alas, I am sorry to report there was no salvaging it… The stinking lettuce continued to permeate my nostrils even as I carried it out into the breezy screen porch to enjoy along with a fresh scone and what was left of yesterday's mushroom soup. 

I tried to pick at it with one hand while the other hand's thumb and forefinger pinched my nose while I ate, but the rotting lettuce penetrated even my thus-subdued taste buds!

Such a pity… Such a beautiful lettuce it had been… And such an incomplete meal I was now suffering, without any vegetables at all (The accompanying carrots and tomatoes now having been sullied by the lettuce rot).  :(

But, it could not be helped. Into the green bin along with its ancestors went the attempted salad, the resident fruit flies on standby, half of them already setting up shop in the compost bin, the other half threatening to make my PEI kitchen their permanent home. 

I closed the compost bin, and gave the door a might mighty kick -- hungry or not, I should've stuck at the computer with my back to school planning!

Now that I've sent away my darling children,and have rec'd confirmation that they are back home safe and sound in Toronto with their dad, I am left to my own devices, and... I am finally getting around to a few more items on my summer professional "to do" list 

Most recently, I've begun reading Authentic Learning in the Digital Age; Engaging Students Through Inquiry by Larissa Pahamov.  

That the first chapter already deals authentically with some of the hurdles typically faced by classroom teachers -- many of us whom are digital immigrants struggling in a complex and rapidly evolving culture -- is a testament to the fact that this book was written by a woman who is herself a classroom teacher.  She begins to describe her journey: "The first year I worked at [school name], I made my students print our their essays so that I could comment on them by hand.  The second year, I did the same thing.  The third year, I finally realised there were a dozen ways I could facilitate that process online, and I haven't looked back". (page 9)  

I laughed when I read that comment, having myself been of both mindsets described, and having worked with many of both in schools and at the university level even.  How, then, shall we use technology effectively to promote inquiry learning?

Pahamove discusses in some detail the transformative effects of technology: Shifting the emphasis from content to skills, allowing for constant engagement (which really redefines what "school" could look like!), democratising learning (the teacher is no longer the gatekeeper of all relevant "knowledge"), connecting to the real world, both within one's community and well beyond, and of course, simplifying the back-end work (why are we still producing and selling paper agendas to students??!!)  She then describes her school's adopted framework for learning.

Five Core Values of Digital Inquiry

Recognizing the possibility for surveillance of studentsand other misuses of digital technology, Pahamov points to the importance of working together with students to set the learning climate.  She also outlines five core values her school has adopted: Inquiry, Research, Collaboration, Presentation and Reflection.

The remainder of the book is organized into each of these five core values, with each chapter focusing in more depth on one of them, and including practical classroom and school-wide suggestions, as well as "workarounds".  The chapters embrace both teacher and student voice.

Adaptations for Middle School 

Although this book is written about digital inquiry in a secondary school context, the authenticity with which the information is shared makes me want to keep reading.  I am looking forward to the next five chapters, and to thinking about how I can adapt the work of Larissa Pahamov and her colleagues into the middle school setting where I currently work.

I had been lost deep in contemplation... but not about nature or spirituality!  I thought for a moment before responding tentatively...

"Lovely, well, yes, sort of, I guess... I'm a teacher, and I'm just mapping out my first week back with the students, and thinking about how best to start the school year with them!"

The couple were all knowing smiles and supportive noises:  Turns out he is also a teacher from Ontario, retired seven years! We chatted at length about the ups (students, learning) and downs (nasty politics, lack of resources) of the profession, and then wished one another well.

I continued on my way, picking up a few beach treasures for a "first week of school activity" for my Grade sixes before heading back to the red path leading to the house.

 

It will come as no surprise for those who know me that I found this past school year a little rough, to put it mildly. My much-anticipated return to intermediate was colored by an organizational structure I had limited previous experience with: The last time I had taught grade 7, it was to a single group of students; together, we explored language arts, mathematics, social studies… I also taught instrumental music to grade 8 as well as my homeroom class, but the bulk of my teaching time was spent with a single group of students, so that model was all I ever knew.

In sharp contrast, this past year was spent teaching mostly math and science to six different classes, three "primary" classes and three what I would call "fill in the gaps" classes whom I saw a few times every 10 days to fill in timetable needs. 

Between too many students, a computer and projector that didn't really work for the better part of the year, and a window-less classroom that served as the only access point for the students in the classroom next door, it often felt like complete chaos to me!

To modify a quote by Deming, it is sometimes the structure of an organization, rather than the inadequacies of the people who work within it, that causes problems. 

Developing Relationships Keeps Kids in School Longer

If Bruce Ferguson says that a single caring adult can impact whether a child chooses to stay in school or become an early leaver, and that we have to develop relationships with young people where they feel their opinion is respected and valued, then needless to say, this goal was nearly impossible to accomplish with 120 students on my roster.