attention, authentic learning, being me, questions

A Lesson from Dora the Explorer

Image taken from Nickelodeon

It appears that when colleges panic or run out of ideas of how to teach, they take their cue straight from Dora the Explorer when it comes to teaching people how to teach.  I reached this conclusion at about 5:30 AM this morning as my daughter insisted on watching another episode.  You see, bear with me here, but Dora asks her audience for participation – my daughter does not participate, so silence fills the void.  Dora then asks for affirmation in her answer, still silence, sometimes “right” squeaks from my two-year old.  Classic call and response.  Isn’t this the same approach we are first taught in college when we learn how to be effective teachers; ask a  question, then reaffirm the answer?  So what’s the problem, after all, Dora is successful?  Well, when you ask a very simple question, you receive simple answers.  And sure many colleges flaunt Blooms Taxonomy and points to it for inspiration, but day-to-day how many of us really reach deeper level thinking?

Instead we ask the simple questions, not quite yes or no, but close, and then when we perhaps do receive an answer we reaffirm by restating, and then we feel great.  Look at how much they are learning!  Now Dora can be excused in this matter, after all her target audience is 2 to 3 year olds who are just learning the language.  We cannot.  We are meant to ask questions that do not always appear straightforward; clear yes, but not always with an easy answer.  One of my biggest challenges has been to kick myself out of easy question land and and instead answer most questions with another question.  Dora never does that, she waits patiently the appropriate wait time (2 seconds roughly) and then squeaks “right?”  My daughter patiently waits for the action to continue, she is trained to know that at some point Dora will speak again.  Our students know that we too will fill the silence, if they stay quiet or passive long enough, we will take over and give them all of the answers.

If we do not heighten our questioning skills in the classroom, we create an audience of learners.  One child may be brave enough to answer our question, yet the others remain passive, knowing that either way, the answer will be given to them.  What if we didn’t provide the answer?  What if we stopped talking?  Instead offering up deeper-level questions and when we don’t have any, turn the table.  Which questions do the students have?  Could we move our classrooms away from call-and-response, reaffirmation, or even just mere audience participation?  Could we make our students engage by simply changing our own engagement?

Who knew, Dora had such deep lessons embedded. 

being a teacher, questions, Student-centered

Today I Didn’t Answer their Questions

Hey Mrs. Ripp, where is Panama? Hey Mrs. Ripp, what does sum mean again? Hey Mrs. Ripp, I don’t get it. Substitute your name for mine and and I am sure this is what many of our classrooms sound like on anay normal day. Except today I didn’t provide the answers, today I didn’t answer with what they wanted to hear. Instead I asked, “How will you find the answer? How will you figure that out?”

Not answering a child is not something I was taught in college, in fact, quite the opposite. I was taught the curriculum, taught to memorize it so I could give it back to the students whenever it was needed. Not anymore, not all the time. Now my students are being taught where to find the answer, where to turn to to figure it all out. Nothing revolutionary, nothing I invented, instead something I learned from watching other great teachers do it.

So today, what happened to those students that didn’t know the answer? Panama was found through studying our classroom map, sum was looked up in a math reference book, and an explanation was found through a classmate. Will this approach always work? Who knows. Today it did.

Have you tried not answering? Is it something we have to teach or can we throw students into it without help?

attention, being a teacher, invest, questions, students

Start Asking Questions

You know the kid, usually a boy, tap, tap, tapping his foot. Gets up, gets something, sits down and then taps taps taps some more. Then whatever he is tapping breaks so he falls out of his chair trying to get something out of his desk. By this time, you are not talking anymore, simply staring as this child as he continues to fiddle,stare out the window, and tap, tap, tap.

So you go to your team and whisper ADHD, not for sure, but someone better check. Has this been a prior concern? Are there records? How would parents react? Never once do we stop to ask the kid why he taps, or rarely anyway. We don’t ask “Why do you blurt? Why do you interrupt? Why are you so exhausted and exhausting?” Instead, we assume. We know, after all, we have seen them before. We are the experts, we know kids, this is our job.

But what if we did ask? What if that boy said that I don’t like my chair because it is uncomfortable? Or how about, when the teacher talks too much, I lose interest because I want to do, to touch, to experience, and not just listen and regurgitate information.

Is your classroom set up for tap, tap, tapping? Is it set up for kids getting out of their seats? For the boy fiddling? For the girl staring out the window? Or for those kids we label because maybe some meds will probably do the trick? When do we stop assuming and start asking questions? When will we realize that we do not have all of the answers and some times we have to ask the students? I think that time has come.

being a teacher, college, Lesson Planning, lessons learned, new teacher, questions, students

Veering Off the Chosen Lesson Path – or Why You Should Take a New Route

As college students when taught the craft of becoming a teacher, one thing is hammered into us again and again; the necessity of lesson plans. We are given graphic organizers to ensure that we account for every single possible thing; special needs, types of learing, beginning, goal, standards and on and on. I slaved over my mine, creating perfect fictitious classrooms that would need my supposed expertise to reach the goal.   It would always be me as the fierce director bringing students into learning, the keeper of the flame.

As a first year teacher, I continued my meticulous planning, always knowing the end goal and more importantly the exact path that I would take to go there.  Students were forced down my chute of learning so that they could reach their glorious destination, often not having time to take a different direction, a different approach.  I had curriculum to get through and by golly I would!

And then I realized what I was really doing.  By glossing over student questions, by forcing my path on the students, I was losing them.  I was losing their inquisitiveness, their creativity, their sense of learning style and most sadly, I was losing their trust in me as a teacher.  Why would they open up when I barely ever slowed down to listen to them?  It wasn’t that I wasn’t a decent teacher, I was, but that was it, decent.  No room for individuality, no room for new discoveries, just here is the goal, let’s reach it.

Learning is always happening in any classroom you walk into.  But notice the different types of learning.  Is there room for student exploration?  For veering off the path?  For taking a totally different route altogether?  How stringent is the teacher with their lesson plan, is it followed minutely or used as a guide for the ultimate goal?  How loud are the students?  How engaged?  I was once asked by my principal what my goal for a particularly disastrous lesson plan was and I couldn’t tell him, what I could tell him was the path I was going to take.  What a wake up call that was – thanks Mr. Rykal -know your goal, think of a path but then don’t be afraid to go another route, to listen to the students,  let them shape the learning.  I promise, you will see the difference in excitement, in caring, and in learning.  Do you dare to take anther route?