Sunday, September 14, 2014
Edcamp or Bust!
Edcamp or Bust!
Once you attend an edcamp, you'll never get the same feeling of inspiration from regular PD. Even though most districts haven't jumped on this train, there are a few ways you can put on the conductor's hat and direct it yourself.
This year, I am starting small...with my 5th grade colleagues. As team leader, I decided to try and run our team meetings in edcamp fashion. As long as we do not have an assigned agenda (data team), this is my plan.
Before the meeting:
I'll remind my team to think of what they need/want to discuss. Also, I will ask them to bring an idea to share with the team related to a topic (for example, an engagement strategy).
I'll send out the short agenda of "must discuss" items.
During the meeting:
For the first 15 minutes, we'll tackle those "must discuss" items, and then set them aside.
Then, it's edcamp time!
We'll excitedly share out the ideas and possible topics we want to discuss related to teaching craft, reaching specific students, or specific curriculum/tech strategies.
Collectively, we'll decide on the agenda and a timeframe for each item.
For the next 30 minutes, we'll enjoy sharing and learning from each other.
For the final 10 minutes, we will each share the idea we brought related to our topic (example was an engagement strategy).
That's a wrap!
What I loved about edcamp was the ability to learn and share what I needed and what was relevant to me that day. I loved learning new ideas and sometimes problem-solving an issue with others in similar situations. I loved that teachers could be both givers and receivers of learning, even in the same session. I loved that I was not expected to "sit and get" from a menu that may or may not fit my diet.
Although not exactly an edcamp, structuring team meetings this way is my contribution to the larger picture of teacher-led PD. Right now, I've grabbed my own conductor hat. I hope to pick up steam and ride this momentum toward a more collaborative, happy and productive year with my fabulous colleagues!
I'm positive that it will be a change for the better! The most effective leaders lead their team by working alongside them.
Monday, August 4, 2014
More Than Just a Mud Run
Yesterday, I embarked on a new adventure when I attempted my
first run of any kind.
A mud run.
The Dirty Girl Mud Run.
Yes, I jumped in mud, ran in mud, crawled in mud, and fell into mud. Many times during this muddy romp, I asked myself what I was doing. (My husband had asked this same question many times in the two months since I registered.)
I was completely out of my comfort zone.
And having a blast!
Here's what I learned:
·
I don't step out of my comfort zone as often as
I should.
·
Laughing at myself through struggles makes them
easier to handle.
·
It feels liberating to try something you never
thought you could.
·
Risks and new experiences are more enjoyable
with friends.
·
Completing a challenging task is an incredible
feeling, and can be addicting.
·
I would actually sign up for another run (maybe
even next year's Dirty Girl).
These self-realizations mirror the type of classroom environment
I want for my students.
Every day should present an opportunity for my students to step
out of their comfort zones and try something new. As often as possible, my
students and I need to laugh at the humorous moments along our learning path,
especially at our failures. We all need to appreciate and celebrate our efforts,
and not just the perfect final product.
I want my classroom community to support each other, despite different
opinions or experiences. Everyone has something to learn from each other,
including me learning from them. My students need to believe that trying again and
again is worth it. Learning from failed attempts has merit. In addition, once they have reached one goal,
I want my students to feel the desire to tackle another one.
Yesterday, it was just a mud run to many at the event.
However, to me it was a realization that I am a better person and
teacher when I step outside my normal.
When I take risks and push through.
When I fall down in the mud and when I surprise myself (and
family) by scaling the wall or running up the obstacle instead of climbing.
When I feel proud of the mud covering my body as proof of my
accomplishment.
When I am excited to feel that way again.
My students don't know it yet, but they'll be doing many mud runs
with me this year.
I am joining other bloggers in a Motivational Monday Linky Party. Click this link to read the other incredible blog posts!
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Give Me a Steep Hill!
Although many friends and members of my PLN are runners, I'm more of a bike enthusiast. As long as the Minnesota weather cooperates, I enjoy going for long bike rides on the numerous trails around my neighborhood. Whether I'm with my kids, husband, or just by myself, biking is my preferred outdoor activity.
Yesterday, while on one of those exhilarating solo bike rides, I was pedaling up a long steep hill. Just when I had to stand up to give myself more momentum (and felt maybe I wouldn't make it), I finally reached the top. Now, those of you who bike know the sheer joy of cruising down a hill, wind in your hair, almost feeling like you're flying.
I got to thinking how much these hills relate to my work as a teacher. Whereas flat terrain is like using the teacher's guide (TE), hills are like taking risks and trying new ideas. Flat terrain is teaching the way you've always taught, with a fixed mindset, remaining in your comfort zone.
With a growth mindset, the climbs are much more exciting than flat terrain because they lead to the thrilling cruise down the hill.
Are they difficult? Are they challenging? Are they often lonely? Yes!
They are never boring, that's for sure. In addition, the momentum they generate for future learning and success can't be quantified.
In the past two years, biking uphill for me included:
Just like a biker builds muscle, teaching with a growth mindset builds confidence. Each hill becomes easier to climb. We look for steeper hills to push ourselves and our students outside their comfort zones and stimulate learning.
Although flat terrain is easier, I'll take another hill any day!
Yesterday, while on one of those exhilarating solo bike rides, I was pedaling up a long steep hill. Just when I had to stand up to give myself more momentum (and felt maybe I wouldn't make it), I finally reached the top. Now, those of you who bike know the sheer joy of cruising down a hill, wind in your hair, almost feeling like you're flying.
I got to thinking how much these hills relate to my work as a teacher. Whereas flat terrain is like using the teacher's guide (TE), hills are like taking risks and trying new ideas. Flat terrain is teaching the way you've always taught, with a fixed mindset, remaining in your comfort zone.
With a growth mindset, the climbs are much more exciting than flat terrain because they lead to the thrilling cruise down the hill.
Are they difficult? Are they challenging? Are they often lonely? Yes!
They are never boring, that's for sure. In addition, the momentum they generate for future learning and success can't be quantified.
In the past two years, biking uphill for me included:
- diving into Twitter and building my PLN, despite a lack of Twitter presence among my school colleagues
- joining the Global Read Aloud (GRA) when nobody else in my building was involved
- celebrating International Dot Day for the past two years with only my teaching partner and our students
- trying out something new to my teaching partner and I, called Genius Hour, and learning as the year went on
- teaching Kelly Gallagher's Reading Reasons and Six Real-World Writing Purposes with passion and enthusiasm
- jumping on the TLAP ship and transforming my classroom practices to include hooks and tons of engagement (the only pirate in my building)
- trying my first (and my building's second) author Skype with Dave Burgess, then following it up with a Skype with author David E. Kelly
- incorporating Erik Palmer's PVLEGS Speaking and Listening framework (which wasn't part of the curriculum)
- engaging in weekly Socratic Seminars (with TodaysMeet back channel), the highlight of my week, with only one colleague who realized the benefits for students
Just like a biker builds muscle, teaching with a growth mindset builds confidence. Each hill becomes easier to climb. We look for steeper hills to push ourselves and our students outside their comfort zones and stimulate learning.
Although flat terrain is easier, I'll take another hill any day!
Friday, July 18, 2014
El Deafo and Me
For 20 years, I taught my students as a hearing impaired teacher. No hearing aid, just 80% loss in one ear due to a tragic incident when I was just 22. At the time of the loss (1994), doctors said there was nothing they could do to return the hearing or correct it. They stated that a hearing aid would only amplify the muffled sound in my bad ear. I went back to the audiologist a few times in subsequent years, only to hear the same diagnosis.
Daily life became a bit different. It was difficult to hear in loud situations (or with loud conversation, such as in restaurants). I started tilting my head so that my "good ear" was facing the speaker. Family and friends sat on my "good side" when out in public places.
Since I didn't have total loss, I managed to compensate fairly effectively. I got used to not quite hearing everything people said. I'd repeat what I THOUGHT was said, and check for clarification when it didn't make sense. My inability to hear more than 87% of what was spoken (since my "good ear" compensated for what my "bad ear" couldn't pick up) became my new normal. I was missing so much of the world around me.
Luckily for me, last year I started having wax buildup in my good ear. There were a few scary days when the wax prevented me from hearing at all. I was afraid that would become a permanent situation. After having my ear flushed twice (an uncomfortable, but not painful, experience), I decided to check back with the audiologist to see what he could do. It was 2013 after all, and I was hoping that maybe something would work now.
Yes!
I was definitely a candidate for a hearing aid. Unlike the main character, Cece, in Cece Bell's new book El Deafo (out in September), mine was so small it was not noticeable unless you looked into my ear canal. After waiting two weeks from the fitting appointment, my hearing aid arrived just in time for the beginning of last school year.
Like Cece, I was amazed at how loud everything sounded! Shuffling papers sounded like metal crushing. Putting away dishes sounded like I was breaking them. My usual television volume needed to be cut in half. I had to ask my husband, "Have our children always been this loud?" (He told me they have.)
The biggest change was in my classroom.
Thirty+ students are loud. Louder than I had ever heard (since my hearing loss occurred only four months after starting my first teaching job).
I had to step out in the hall and ask a colleague to go in my room to see if they were louder than what the collaborative activity required. She said that the noise level was what a typical class sounds like.
I was shocked and saddened by all that I had probably missed my students say over the past twenty years. How many had asked questions I didn't hear? How many comments had I misinterpreted? How many became frustrated and gave up asking or commenting?
When I read El Deafo, I felt like someone understood what it was like for me. Although I was not hearing impaired in K-12 (or even in college), I experienced many of the same emotions as Cece. I didn't have a Phonic Ear around my neck connected by cords to my ears, but I always felt different. I was embarrassed telling people I didn't hear what they said since they were talking into my bad ear. I desperately wanted to go to Happy Hour or social gatherings with my colleagues, but didn't because I knew I would miss too much conversation due to the noise. There was a part of my life I was missing.
This past year, with my hearing aid, I felt like I was part of the world again. It's amazing how many situations I used to avoid because they made it difficult for me to hear and carry on conversations. When wearing my hearing aid, I catch almost every word and don't have to sit in a certain spot or angle my head to hear what's being said. I know the hearing aid is in, but nobody else does unless I tell them. It has made such a difference, especially with my students.
We need diverse books like El Deafo so students and teachers like Cece and me can relate to characters in books. We need to read books about situations like our own. I am excited to have a copy of El Deafo in my classroom library (and our school's media center) so students can read Cece's story and gain insight into someone's different life experience.
Thank you, Cece Bell. We need THIS diverse book!
Daily life became a bit different. It was difficult to hear in loud situations (or with loud conversation, such as in restaurants). I started tilting my head so that my "good ear" was facing the speaker. Family and friends sat on my "good side" when out in public places.
Since I didn't have total loss, I managed to compensate fairly effectively. I got used to not quite hearing everything people said. I'd repeat what I THOUGHT was said, and check for clarification when it didn't make sense. My inability to hear more than 87% of what was spoken (since my "good ear" compensated for what my "bad ear" couldn't pick up) became my new normal. I was missing so much of the world around me.
Luckily for me, last year I started having wax buildup in my good ear. There were a few scary days when the wax prevented me from hearing at all. I was afraid that would become a permanent situation. After having my ear flushed twice (an uncomfortable, but not painful, experience), I decided to check back with the audiologist to see what he could do. It was 2013 after all, and I was hoping that maybe something would work now.
Yes!
I was definitely a candidate for a hearing aid. Unlike the main character, Cece, in Cece Bell's new book El Deafo (out in September), mine was so small it was not noticeable unless you looked into my ear canal. After waiting two weeks from the fitting appointment, my hearing aid arrived just in time for the beginning of last school year.
Like Cece, I was amazed at how loud everything sounded! Shuffling papers sounded like metal crushing. Putting away dishes sounded like I was breaking them. My usual television volume needed to be cut in half. I had to ask my husband, "Have our children always been this loud?" (He told me they have.)
The biggest change was in my classroom.
Thirty+ students are loud. Louder than I had ever heard (since my hearing loss occurred only four months after starting my first teaching job).
I had to step out in the hall and ask a colleague to go in my room to see if they were louder than what the collaborative activity required. She said that the noise level was what a typical class sounds like.
I was shocked and saddened by all that I had probably missed my students say over the past twenty years. How many had asked questions I didn't hear? How many comments had I misinterpreted? How many became frustrated and gave up asking or commenting?
When I read El Deafo, I felt like someone understood what it was like for me. Although I was not hearing impaired in K-12 (or even in college), I experienced many of the same emotions as Cece. I didn't have a Phonic Ear around my neck connected by cords to my ears, but I always felt different. I was embarrassed telling people I didn't hear what they said since they were talking into my bad ear. I desperately wanted to go to Happy Hour or social gatherings with my colleagues, but didn't because I knew I would miss too much conversation due to the noise. There was a part of my life I was missing.
This past year, with my hearing aid, I felt like I was part of the world again. It's amazing how many situations I used to avoid because they made it difficult for me to hear and carry on conversations. When wearing my hearing aid, I catch almost every word and don't have to sit in a certain spot or angle my head to hear what's being said. I know the hearing aid is in, but nobody else does unless I tell them. It has made such a difference, especially with my students.
We need diverse books like El Deafo so students and teachers like Cece and me can relate to characters in books. We need to read books about situations like our own. I am excited to have a copy of El Deafo in my classroom library (and our school's media center) so students can read Cece's story and gain insight into someone's different life experience.
Thank you, Cece Bell. We need THIS diverse book!
Sunday, July 6, 2014
How Twitter is like NBC's "The Voice"
I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
What I love about the show, "The Voice," is that it allows contestants to be judged on the quality of their voice alone. The audience can see them, but the four judges have their chairs turned around and cannot.
When these brave (and lucky) souls open their mouths to sing, the judges either turn around in support of their vocal talent or they don't. It doesn't matter what they look like or what they're wearing. It doesn't matter if they can dance or not (although it sometimes negatively affects their singing).
They make it onto a judge's team based solely on the music they offer.
How refreshing!
When I first joined Twitter one year ago, it was like auditioning for The Voice.
Nobody could see me (except a small profile picture). Nobody could hear me talk. Nobody could see me teach. They couldn't see my classroom or my students. They couldn't see my messy house (although it's cleaner in the summer months).
Through Twitter, I was able to share only what I chose to share. At first, I was careful to only tweet out my best thoughts and ideas. I was trying desperately to make a great first impression. This is similar to a competitor on The Voice. They walk on stage and sing the best they know how. If they make it on a judge's team (and therefore, make it on the show), they can challenge themselves and try different styles.
All that the members of my PLN can judge me on are my tweets. Do they offer a new idea or perspective? Are they in line with their own thinking? Do my tweets challenge their thinking? Do they link to other's awesome ideas? Do they demonstrate my positive feelings toward their ideas?
Once the number of followers increased and I "made it" on the Twitter "show," I shared a little more of myself. I felt more comfortable offering a divergent opinion or sharing my own ideas (even pictures and videos of my students). I joined chats and tweeted out opinions that may have differed from my peers. I have experienced huge professional growth over the past year, as do most of the contestants on The Voice.
Maybe this is why I like the show so much. All contestants have the unique opportunity to be judged only on the song they choose to share. Then, they have the support of the judges, the fans, and the show to push themselves as artists.
My tweets are like my song. My PLN members are my judges and fans.
Thanks to my wonderful PLN for choosing me to take a spot on your team. I have never regretted my decision to choose any of you as part of mine.
What I love about the show, "The Voice," is that it allows contestants to be judged on the quality of their voice alone. The audience can see them, but the four judges have their chairs turned around and cannot.
When these brave (and lucky) souls open their mouths to sing, the judges either turn around in support of their vocal talent or they don't. It doesn't matter what they look like or what they're wearing. It doesn't matter if they can dance or not (although it sometimes negatively affects their singing).
They make it onto a judge's team based solely on the music they offer.
How refreshing!
When I first joined Twitter one year ago, it was like auditioning for The Voice.
Nobody could see me (except a small profile picture). Nobody could hear me talk. Nobody could see me teach. They couldn't see my classroom or my students. They couldn't see my messy house (although it's cleaner in the summer months).
Through Twitter, I was able to share only what I chose to share. At first, I was careful to only tweet out my best thoughts and ideas. I was trying desperately to make a great first impression. This is similar to a competitor on The Voice. They walk on stage and sing the best they know how. If they make it on a judge's team (and therefore, make it on the show), they can challenge themselves and try different styles.
All that the members of my PLN can judge me on are my tweets. Do they offer a new idea or perspective? Are they in line with their own thinking? Do my tweets challenge their thinking? Do they link to other's awesome ideas? Do they demonstrate my positive feelings toward their ideas?
Once the number of followers increased and I "made it" on the Twitter "show," I shared a little more of myself. I felt more comfortable offering a divergent opinion or sharing my own ideas (even pictures and videos of my students). I joined chats and tweeted out opinions that may have differed from my peers. I have experienced huge professional growth over the past year, as do most of the contestants on The Voice.
Maybe this is why I like the show so much. All contestants have the unique opportunity to be judged only on the song they choose to share. Then, they have the support of the judges, the fans, and the show to push themselves as artists.
My tweets are like my song. My PLN members are my judges and fans.
Thanks to my wonderful PLN for choosing me to take a spot on your team. I have never regretted my decision to choose any of you as part of mine.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Reach out!
Who would have thought some friendly banter would lead to a respectful, collegial friendship?
A few months ago, I was involved in a Twitter chat during a playoff game between the MN Wild and the Chicago Blackhawks.
Friendly "banter" was exchanged via tweets between a teacher/Blackhawk fan and myself (a Minnesotan & Wild fan by default).
That Blackhawk fan was Greg Armamentos, or @dashthebook.
I believe the Blackhawks won that game, and they went on to play in the semi-final game.
However, that's not what matters.
I discovered that Greg had recently published a book, so I looked it up on Amazon and placed my order. He started writing it with his students, which is awesome. Also, he self-published (like Dave Burgess), which I admired. It arrived a few days later, and I quickly read it from cover to cover.
It was an incredible story-one that I shared with a few students before the end of the school year. Greg has since sent a signed copy of his book to my school (so I can keep that one and put the other in my classroom library). Thanks to Greg's generosity, my new students can look forward to a Skype visit from Greg (the author) this fall.
The story doesn't end there.
As the school year wound down, another Twitter teacher Ben Kuhlman (@bkuhl2you) issued a challenge called #10summerblogs. Greg jumped in (although he and Ben already had blogs), which encouraged me to give it a try. I had wanted to blog for a while, but this was the push I needed to get started.
Greg was the inspiration for one of my posts about validation (needing our backs scratched). He reminded me that we all (students and teachers) have something worthwhile to say. I was encouraged to share my unique voice with the larger Twitter community.
Every time I publish a new post, Greg is there with kind words and support. He does this with all #10summerblogs participants, as well as authors of books he adores.
Thanks to him, I have read more blogs from wonderful Twitter teachers, and I have enjoyed new books like Circa Now and Dash. I even braved my first time moderating a twitter chat (#5thchat) with an author I admire- Erik Palmer. It was a phenomenal experience!
During a recent Twins game against the White Sox, our friendly rivalry was ignited again. This time it was the MN team (Twins) who won that series, despite currently trailing the Sox in our division.
Although this seems like a tribute to Greg (and he's humble enough not to need it), it's really a post about how you never know what can happen when you reach out on Twitter. When you connect with other educators who share a similar passion. Even when you give them a hard time about their sports team.
Who knew that some friendly banter about the Wild and Blackhawks would lead to a Twitter friendship that inspires and supports me as an educator?
Make sure to reach out and connect. You never know the great people you'll meet.
A few months ago, I was involved in a Twitter chat during a playoff game between the MN Wild and the Chicago Blackhawks.
Friendly "banter" was exchanged via tweets between a teacher/Blackhawk fan and myself (a Minnesotan & Wild fan by default).
That Blackhawk fan was Greg Armamentos, or @dashthebook.
I believe the Blackhawks won that game, and they went on to play in the semi-final game.
However, that's not what matters.
I discovered that Greg had recently published a book, so I looked it up on Amazon and placed my order. He started writing it with his students, which is awesome. Also, he self-published (like Dave Burgess), which I admired. It arrived a few days later, and I quickly read it from cover to cover.
It was an incredible story-one that I shared with a few students before the end of the school year. Greg has since sent a signed copy of his book to my school (so I can keep that one and put the other in my classroom library). Thanks to Greg's generosity, my new students can look forward to a Skype visit from Greg (the author) this fall.
The story doesn't end there.
As the school year wound down, another Twitter teacher Ben Kuhlman (@bkuhl2you) issued a challenge called #10summerblogs. Greg jumped in (although he and Ben already had blogs), which encouraged me to give it a try. I had wanted to blog for a while, but this was the push I needed to get started.
Greg was the inspiration for one of my posts about validation (needing our backs scratched). He reminded me that we all (students and teachers) have something worthwhile to say. I was encouraged to share my unique voice with the larger Twitter community.
Every time I publish a new post, Greg is there with kind words and support. He does this with all #10summerblogs participants, as well as authors of books he adores.
Thanks to him, I have read more blogs from wonderful Twitter teachers, and I have enjoyed new books like Circa Now and Dash. I even braved my first time moderating a twitter chat (#5thchat) with an author I admire- Erik Palmer. It was a phenomenal experience!
During a recent Twins game against the White Sox, our friendly rivalry was ignited again. This time it was the MN team (Twins) who won that series, despite currently trailing the Sox in our division.
Although this seems like a tribute to Greg (and he's humble enough not to need it), it's really a post about how you never know what can happen when you reach out on Twitter. When you connect with other educators who share a similar passion. Even when you give them a hard time about their sports team.
Who knew that some friendly banter about the Wild and Blackhawks would lead to a Twitter friendship that inspires and supports me as an educator?
Make sure to reach out and connect. You never know the great people you'll meet.
Monday, June 23, 2014
The Pirating of Future Problem Solving
From June 12-15, I had the wonderful opportunity to chaperone four of my Future Problem Solving team to Iowa State University for the International Competition. For those who don't know what Future Problem Solving (FPS) is, here's a short description, taken from http://www.fpspi.org/:
Founded by creativity pioneer, Dr. E. Paul Torrance, Future Problem Solving Program International (FPSPI) stimulates critical and creative thinking skills, encourages students to develop a vision for the future, and prepares students for leadership roles. Future Problem Solving Program International involves thousands of students annually from Australia, Hong Kong, India, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, New Zealand, Portugal, Singapore, Turkey, United Kingdom, and the United States.
Since I recently adopted the pirate philosophy, shared by teacher/author Dave Burgess, I realized how closely the FPS experience mirrors the six TLAP components.
P (passion)
Each level of FPS competition (from qualifying all the way to internationals, or IC) encourages students and coaches to bring passion to their research. However, in his book, Teach Like a Pirate, Dave asserts that teachers aren't always passionate about what they teach. The same can be said about students and their learning. Our topics this year included surveillance society, land transportation, and space. Although the first one generated the most interest, I'd say the last two were not as exciting to my kids. Although we learned so much about all three topics, my two girls had to fake their passion for our IC topic: space.
FPS competitions consist of their written booklet and their skit, where teams act out their action plan. As their coach, I decided to generate passion for the IC performance by using some meeting time to share and listen to space-related songs (Rocket Man, The Final Countdown, Supermassive Black Hole) and watch space-related movie trailers (Star wars, Apollo 13, Gravity, E.T.). Of course we researched as much as we could about space in general, but focusing on the skit helped my girls find their personal passion since they enjoy performing. *The result of this passion was a 3rd place finish in the skit portion. Only the top two teams moved on to the finals, but we were pleased with out ranking.
I (immersion)
In order to do well at FPS competitions, teams can't simply focus on their assigned topic; they need to be immersed in it! Not only did we immerse ourselves in space research while we were in our meetings, but I encouraged the students to spend time each day immersing themselves in the vocabulary, the visuals, and the wonder of space. Turning the lights off when we watched trailers, music videos, images of moon landings and solar eclipses helped us tune out the hustle and bustle around us.
At the competition, we couldn't help but be immersed in this topic. Everything was space. We even had an opportunity to listen to a former astronaut talk about his trips to the International Space Station, accompanied by incredible video and images.
R (rapport)
Since this group has been with me for two years, we've had ample time to develop a strong rapport. I started with 31-5th graders last year (which was overwhelming for just one coach). This year, 11 of those students (now 6th graders) took on the challenge. Of the 11, eight continued on to the State Competition. As I mentioned, a lucky four won 1st place at State, qualifying for IC.
We all got to know each other very well during weekly meetings and brainstorming sessions. In the months from State to IC, we met more often and cemented our bond. One of our fundraisers was "duct tape an FPSer to the Wall." Let's say that one helped us "stick" together even more.
The beauty of a 3-day competition out of state is the opportunity it presents to truly get to know each other on a more personal level. We shared experiences, like sleeping down the hall from each other in the dorm, eating all meals in the ISU cafeteria, and walking around the campus on a scavenger hunt (with their moms). It was sad to say goodbye on the final day.
A (ask & analyze)
These two are built into the six steps of FPS. However, the "six word" story that Dave shares on pages 38-42 helped me as a coach give my students full credit for their hard work researching and learning the FPS process. They didn't make it to IC because they are "so smart." They made it because they worked their tails off. In addition, they learned lots from the feedback the judges provided at each stage. Last year, only three of these students made it to State (and none to IC). However, they all learned so much from comments on their written booklets and used that feedback to improve their work and make it farther in the competition this year. I'm overjoyed that all want to continue with FPS in some form, despite the fact that they are too old for the junior division, which I coach. They don't feel like they are "done" with FPS yet.
T (transformation)
No, my FPS students didn't "have" to be there. They all willingly signed up for this before-school (some Saturdays) experience. In addition, 11 of them signed up again, knowing all of the hard work that goes into this activity. Some students enjoyed the research, others enjoyed the skits, while others enjoyed the camaraderie with their classmates and the competitions themselves. A few even joined this group because they weren't in my classroom and wanted to have me as a teacher for something. (I was honored.) When I shared the opportunity with all 5th graders back in the fall of 2012, I included all of these aspects in the hopes that at least one of them would stick with different students. Like Dave stated, I reframed the content, value and relevancy to my students' lives.
E (enthusiasm)
This is my portion. My enthusiasm for FPS is what encouraged kids to sign up, what kept them coming to each meeting, and what drove many of them to sign up for a second year. My enthusiasm is what inspired the final four students to desire more FPS. They don't want their experience to just end. These students asked if they could continue with scenario writing or community problem solving (also under the FPS umbrella) because they are thirsty to learn more. They are even willing to help coach my new students instead, if that's a way to continue with the program.
I'm proud to call these students pirates. They have passion, they immerse themselves in learning, they have developed rapport with their teammates, they know how to ask & analyze, they have transformed their learning, and they have oodles of enthusiasm, Who knows where our paths will lead us, but I would love to be their coach/captain for the remainder of their journey. They are a phenomenal group of kids!
Founded by creativity pioneer, Dr. E. Paul Torrance, Future Problem Solving Program International (FPSPI) stimulates critical and creative thinking skills, encourages students to develop a vision for the future, and prepares students for leadership roles. Future Problem Solving Program International involves thousands of students annually from Australia, Hong Kong, India, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, New Zealand, Portugal, Singapore, Turkey, United Kingdom, and the United States.
| FPSPI Mission: To develop the ability of young people globally to design and promote positive futures using critical, creative thinking. Students are given a topic ahead of time so they can conduct research and brainstorm possible challenges and solutions. Then, on competition day, they read a one-page future (30+ years in the future) scene that's filled with detail and topic-specific vocabulary. The scene ends with a charge statement, which directs the focus of the students' work. For exactly two hours, the team (four members) works their way through six steps with only a dictionary, pens/pencils, and scratch paper. The six steps are:
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Since I recently adopted the pirate philosophy, shared by teacher/author Dave Burgess, I realized how closely the FPS experience mirrors the six TLAP components.
P (passion)
Each level of FPS competition (from qualifying all the way to internationals, or IC) encourages students and coaches to bring passion to their research. However, in his book, Teach Like a Pirate, Dave asserts that teachers aren't always passionate about what they teach. The same can be said about students and their learning. Our topics this year included surveillance society, land transportation, and space. Although the first one generated the most interest, I'd say the last two were not as exciting to my kids. Although we learned so much about all three topics, my two girls had to fake their passion for our IC topic: space.
FPS competitions consist of their written booklet and their skit, where teams act out their action plan. As their coach, I decided to generate passion for the IC performance by using some meeting time to share and listen to space-related songs (Rocket Man, The Final Countdown, Supermassive Black Hole) and watch space-related movie trailers (Star wars, Apollo 13, Gravity, E.T.). Of course we researched as much as we could about space in general, but focusing on the skit helped my girls find their personal passion since they enjoy performing. *The result of this passion was a 3rd place finish in the skit portion. Only the top two teams moved on to the finals, but we were pleased with out ranking.
I (immersion)
In order to do well at FPS competitions, teams can't simply focus on their assigned topic; they need to be immersed in it! Not only did we immerse ourselves in space research while we were in our meetings, but I encouraged the students to spend time each day immersing themselves in the vocabulary, the visuals, and the wonder of space. Turning the lights off when we watched trailers, music videos, images of moon landings and solar eclipses helped us tune out the hustle and bustle around us.
At the competition, we couldn't help but be immersed in this topic. Everything was space. We even had an opportunity to listen to a former astronaut talk about his trips to the International Space Station, accompanied by incredible video and images.
R (rapport)
Since this group has been with me for two years, we've had ample time to develop a strong rapport. I started with 31-5th graders last year (which was overwhelming for just one coach). This year, 11 of those students (now 6th graders) took on the challenge. Of the 11, eight continued on to the State Competition. As I mentioned, a lucky four won 1st place at State, qualifying for IC.
We all got to know each other very well during weekly meetings and brainstorming sessions. In the months from State to IC, we met more often and cemented our bond. One of our fundraisers was "duct tape an FPSer to the Wall." Let's say that one helped us "stick" together even more.
The beauty of a 3-day competition out of state is the opportunity it presents to truly get to know each other on a more personal level. We shared experiences, like sleeping down the hall from each other in the dorm, eating all meals in the ISU cafeteria, and walking around the campus on a scavenger hunt (with their moms). It was sad to say goodbye on the final day.
A (ask & analyze)
These two are built into the six steps of FPS. However, the "six word" story that Dave shares on pages 38-42 helped me as a coach give my students full credit for their hard work researching and learning the FPS process. They didn't make it to IC because they are "so smart." They made it because they worked their tails off. In addition, they learned lots from the feedback the judges provided at each stage. Last year, only three of these students made it to State (and none to IC). However, they all learned so much from comments on their written booklets and used that feedback to improve their work and make it farther in the competition this year. I'm overjoyed that all want to continue with FPS in some form, despite the fact that they are too old for the junior division, which I coach. They don't feel like they are "done" with FPS yet.
T (transformation)
No, my FPS students didn't "have" to be there. They all willingly signed up for this before-school (some Saturdays) experience. In addition, 11 of them signed up again, knowing all of the hard work that goes into this activity. Some students enjoyed the research, others enjoyed the skits, while others enjoyed the camaraderie with their classmates and the competitions themselves. A few even joined this group because they weren't in my classroom and wanted to have me as a teacher for something. (I was honored.) When I shared the opportunity with all 5th graders back in the fall of 2012, I included all of these aspects in the hopes that at least one of them would stick with different students. Like Dave stated, I reframed the content, value and relevancy to my students' lives.
E (enthusiasm)
This is my portion. My enthusiasm for FPS is what encouraged kids to sign up, what kept them coming to each meeting, and what drove many of them to sign up for a second year. My enthusiasm is what inspired the final four students to desire more FPS. They don't want their experience to just end. These students asked if they could continue with scenario writing or community problem solving (also under the FPS umbrella) because they are thirsty to learn more. They are even willing to help coach my new students instead, if that's a way to continue with the program.
I'm proud to call these students pirates. They have passion, they immerse themselves in learning, they have developed rapport with their teammates, they know how to ask & analyze, they have transformed their learning, and they have oodles of enthusiasm, Who knows where our paths will lead us, but I would love to be their coach/captain for the remainder of their journey. They are a phenomenal group of kids!
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