I’ll admit, I don’t often use sports metaphors. I do love baseball and football, but they don’t encompass my being. Our school is a basketball school and I don’t know as much about the sport as I should after a decade plus. Certainly not enough to use basketball-based imagery.
But here I am: one (big) assignment away from submitting all work required for my M.Ed in Education Leadership. And clearly procrastinating it while I decide which phrase to use the rest of the night.
Red Zone: this is the last 20 yards before a touchdown. It makes me think of offensive plays, though the defense also has red zone stats. (Actually, is it really a thing other than the TV graphics and commentators? Like I said, fan, not fanatic.) The team wants to convert the red zone field position into a score, preferably a touchdown.
Bottom of the 9th: this is clearly an offensive term since there is no bottom of the 9th if the home team is winning. The visiting team is on the offensive (as the defense) to keep the ball off the field, out of the stands, off the scoreboard. The home team is actually playing offense, looking to advance runners and win the game.
Friends, I think I’m in the bottom of the 9th here. Perhaps down by three with one out left but the bases are loaded and the clean-up hitter is at bat. Full-count then the sweetest, juiciest pitch ever slips from the pitcher and there it goes. Root for the home team grand slamming away.
What a dramatic metaphor…if you’re into baseball.
The good news is that the situation isn’t quite two-out, full-count drama. More like a single runner on base and all the outs left to use in a one-run game. And possibly extra innings because of the extension I received because my husband’s cancer decided to throw down, charge the mound, and delay the game for a bit.
Stading to the plate.
Game’s on the line.
A crook of the elbow.
A shuffle of the feet.
Settle into the crouch.
And here’s the pitch.
In our district, 4th Quarter is research quarter in ELA. Now really, every day is research day anymore, but this is where we do the deliberate instruction of skills for an extended project. In past years, students did a traditional research paper; last year, I added a digital presentation to that paper and honestly, those were more fun to review than the papers.
This year, my co-teacher and I decided to skip the paper (though it is an option for anyone who wants to take it; it hasn’t gone away for good) and do an “extended research project.” A new step for the students is creating an annotated bibliography for their sources.
What a packed assignment! Finding sources, initially analyzing for usefulness, taking notes on ones that pass the first step, summarizing the source, and putting it all into APA format takes a lot of work. Once that is done, the next step is to make a useful project out of the information to answer whatever research question the students self-selected.
Our goal, particularly in middle school, is to have students test out a variety of ways to “show what they know” so that as we more completely move into the personalized learning initiative our district has (thankfully!) embraced, the kids have skills to really personalize.
As an example, this annotation relates to the read aloud the middle school is doing, The Wild Robot Escapes. It’s a little short; it could be two paragraphs with the second one relating more about how the source relates to the (undisclosed) research question.
I’m finishing up with a student and switching out with one of our amazing paraprofessionals when the secretary comes to the classroom and says, “Mike needs you now.” The tone was mildly urgent which is weird because usually it means something is up in the classroom I am fixing to leave.
Must be about testing, I think, more focused on the door being held wide open. We never have that door wide open.
At his office, he says, “Come on in, we have some questions about PBIS,” and it is obvious he has this set up for videoconferencing. Now I’m thinking, shoot, what do I know about this? (Well, lots. I love PBIS.)
It wasn’t about PBIS. Click the tweet to find out.
My goal was to blog once a week about Genius Hour as we did it in class. I got one week. And I think there is a draft in here somewhere for week two. But then this poor blog falls fallow, like so many other years. Well, my new co-teacher is planning on blogging once a week and I am going to use her to keep me accountable.
Necessity: I am starting my third week out of the classroom, unplanned. A month ago, we rather suddenly discovered my husband has cancer. Stage IV Renal Cell Carcinoma (Clear Cell), if you care for the specifics. We have a big, big monster to slay so we’ve left Alaska and got him set up in Seattle for care there. Family first. I’m very thankful to my co-workers, school, and district for their agreement in that belief.
Invention: Now, I know many teachers do this all the time: deliver content online to students. And I am generally moving my few electives to blended-style courses that can be (mostly) accessed asynchronously. This week, though, I’m designing a series of lessons that my co-teacher will help deliver in person to our MS ELA class so that when I’m back in person, we keep carrying on. It’s a read-aloud. I love reading aloud to students. So why let a few thousand miles interfere with that?
Here’s a video I recorded for my class where one-take dorkiness abounds.
If you’re looking for a fun elementary/middle grade read aloud to do this Spring, look up The Wild Robot and The Wild Robot Escapes, by Peter Brown.
PS. Some friends set up a social media campaign of encouragement for us in this cancer journey; check out #stadingstrong on Facebook, IG, and some on Twitter.
Genius Hour. I LOVE GENIUS HOUR.
My first foray into it was probably in 2013 or so, similar to finding Twitter. Because of course, good ideas find YOU on Twitter. I started with elementary, just creating, just learning.
We just kicked off a Middle School Genius Hour. Every Monday. Monday! Let’s set the tone for the week with student-led learning is my plan. This time around, it will be a little more formal, a little more accountable because my goals for them are not only learning but figuring out how to plan a project, keep working on a project, find ways to be accountable for that project.
There will be missteps. Like today, was I excited enough about it? Did I warm up the grill before dropping the steak on it like #tlap? I don’t know. Do I have a plan for more than just today? Not yet. I know, in theory, what this should look like, how I should revise it for this next go around of Genius Hour. In theory. The theory is good.
My own Genius Hour project is going to be blogging about Genius Hour. (And blogging in general.) It’s TIME to contribute to the larger field of learning and teaching! I’ve 22 semesters under my belt, never two the same. It’s time for my students and it is time for me.
My Loves and Ideas
My life changed six years ago today. Sounds dramatic, right? Seeing as I am talking about the day I joined Twitter, it probably sounds melodramatic. But I am not wrong in this. The day I joined Twitter changed my teaching and hence, my life.
These are things I love about Twitter:
It is there when you need it.
It holds about a billion fabulous ideas.
It provides an easy way to connect with like-minded people.
It has so many things to be like-minded about.
It is really fun to watch Live Tweets during events.
It is easy to use for five minutes a day.
It is easy to use for hours a day.
You find amazing ideas on it.
(Or perhaps they find you.)
Thank you, Twitter. What will we be in six more years?
I am up at 11 o’clock at night streaming April the Giraffe on my TV. I’m doing this with about 70,000 or 80,000 other people around the world. On past nights, it’s been about 35,000 people doing the same but tonight is different because her vets have said there’s indicators that she’s significantly closer to giving birth. (Like I just saw a contraction or her calf is having quite the party in utero.)
Why, you might wonder, am I up watching when I have never really paid attention to giraffe cams, or other animal cams for that matter, ever in my life? It is the Monday after time change I certainly should be getting some rest. But instead I’m streaming a giraffe from New York. Why indeed.
Well, because I can. I have high speed internet and the zoo has a sponsor providing the streaming. (For real, if I ever needed exotic animal food I would buy it from a company called Mazuri.) There is no one else awake to tell me how boring it is to watch an animal walk around. I’m enthralled and I’m not the only one.
This is the world we have. We connect over animal cams while waiting for a calf to be born. We read Facebook posts about how watching this giraffe helps people in time of grief or depression just by seeing and sharing the animal’s life as well as the promise of new life. All the while we’re learning about giraffes. I know more about giraffes now than I did three weeks ago and no one made me learn it.
Where is this in the classroom? Are we following students’ interests and helping them connect with others? Because that cause is as much my reason for watching April. It reminds me THIS is what learning learning looks like: 16 feet tall and beautiful.
Good luck, April. And good night. I’ll check on you in the morning with your 80,000 other fans.