I(n) tune

This is the companion to my post The Groove for The Heart and Art of Teaching blog. I am writing it here in order to keep my blog posts reading times reigned in. It was originally occupying several paragraphs elsewhere, but was moved here to take on a life of its own.

I love music. I’m listening to it right now(Dave Matthews Band – Live in Rio). In my classroom, I sing, quote song lyrics, hum tunes, and offer students the chance to use music as a means to demonstrate they’re understandings of learning. I have an obscure record collection that includes speeches by Mussolini to  songs by Cookie Monster.

From the earliest moments I wanted to be a DJ on the radio. As a kid I was always pressing the presets on our car radio. I loved the idea that one person could curate the soundtrack for so many people. There were countless times I’d dial the local radio station to request a song. And for a very brief while, I believed that the performers were actually in the stations performing live.

It was the late 60s in Hudson’s Hope, BC. Most of our family welcomed the addition of my little sister. Not me, I was officially the middle child and it was time to occupy my time plotting against my siblings. Most days were spent outside playing in the dirt, wandering around the limits of our trailer park, and learning to cruise along, the lone stretch of driveway, on an over-sized trike.  Inside, our little black and white television warmed our temporary double-wide home with its futuristic glow. The Beatles were on Ed Sullivan. I was hooked.

Uprooted, moved, and transplanted over the border to New York state. This was followed by the revelation that Buffalo, NY is probably the snowiest equivalent location possible to the Peace River in British Columbia. What did I care? I didn’t have to shovel it.

The move brought with it a home, and some new gear. A colour TV now bathed our living room with light and entertainment. Ed Sullivan was still  hosting his “Really big Shoow!”, but not for long. The soundtrack was changing, evolving, and definitely becoming more interesting. My parents listened to the radio wherever and whenever they could.

Whether we were in the house, the yard, or in the car on the way to somewhere – music was there. You couldn’t help but sing along to the grooves and rhythms of Rock n’ roll, the twang of Country, the hooks of Pop music, or the heart and soul of R and B. In our space, no musical genre would be denied. Although, I think my dad had a limit on how much “hippie” music he could handle.  😉

In 1972 we moved again. This time, it was to Wyoming where cattle outnumbered people 2:1. It is still that way today. Once again a score to soothe the worried mind of a middle child filled my ears with Led Zeppelin, Marvin Gaye, Carole King, and Tammy Wynette. A new home, same TV, but only Ed Sullivan reruns to watch until we discovered Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert.

Queen, Bad Company, Van Morrison, and Linda Ronstadt had become household names. Everyday on my way to school I’d be humming one tune or another heard on KWYO AM or KROE FM( now talk radio), which played album sides and a greater selection of performers.

My parents loved music too, and had amassed quite a record collection of their own. To a young audiophile, it was a gold mine of sounds to accompany my musical education.  The album covers alone served as part of my daily reading regimen. When my brother became a wage earner, the collection grew even larger and wilder with his contributions of BTO, Guess Who, Styx, and Elton John.

Wherever I ambled, music made the journey better regardless of what was going on in the world around me. And there was plenty. I remember my first albums, Kiss Destroyer, and Peter Frampton Comes Alive. I nearly wore through that vinyl from playing it so often. Then another move in 1978.

Arriving to Toronto in the late 70s meant having my ears opened to a buffet of musical offerings. Bands like the Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, and Rush began to consume my adolescent times with guitar heavy riffs and intelligent lyrics. Radio became the means by which I got to know my new city.

As a grade 8 student at St. Gaspar Elementary School(closed 2002), I began slowly amassing a collection of vinyl records. Countless hours of my youth were spent listening to albums, reading liner notes, and getting to know about the artists/performers making the music I loved. No genre was excluded. If it was on vinyl I’d give it a spin. Music videos were just creeping into our sound consciousness with shows like the New Music.

The Tubes, Peter Tosh, The Police, and the Clash.

I remember studying the albums themselves and wondering how a diamond stylus needle that get’s dropped into a groove translates the contents into such glorious sounds; complete with crackles and pops. It was as if I was in the room when I could hear fingers sliding across the strings of a guitar or when stereo headphones made it feel like the sound was going right through my brain.

In short the soundtrack to my life to this point was accompanied by amazing music, lyrics, and performers who poured their talents out for the world to hear. I still remember skateboarding and listening to Sultans of Swing  cranked up on my portable transistor radio sans headphones.

Let’s call this the first side of the album…
I will flip it and press play on another post covering the early 80s to present next time.

If you like discussing music please comment and keep the conversation going.
Happy listening.

Header image by Mr.choppers (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

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Who knew that thinking we were not good at Math ≠ the Truth?

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photo by Sam Howzit CC BY 2.0

Well in advance of my ever becoming an educator came an episode of BBC’s Dr. Who, where the TARDIS traveller shared,

“You know the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common: They don’t alter their views to fit the facts; they alter the facts to fit their views, which can be uncomfortable if you happen to be one of the facts that needs altering.” from Dr Who Episode – The Face of Evil Part 4 January 22, 1977

It seems very clear now, that we are capable of convincing ourselves of anything regardless of sensibility, social standing, or support system. It’s happening everyday in classrooms because it has been allowed to happen over and over this way since forever. I’ll use the short story below to illustrate how it might be playing out in a typical Math classroom.

Some others

It’s a Tuesday, or is it Wednesday? No matter, because it’s Mathday. A teacher shares the concept(s). Some respond with nods, others avoid eye-contact, and silent supplications of “please don’t ask me to explain this”. Students try to understand what’s being taught. Some get it faster than others. Seconds pass, then minutes. Teacher grows impatient with awkward silences and then ploughs on. As if in unison, the others begin to doubt whether they’ll ever get it? Some wonder in disbelief how the others don’t get it and repeat. At some point most educators will have learners floating in various states between being some or the others.

Suddenly, but with far less warning, an assessment is given and the results serve to separate some from the others. Followed by a false, yet difficult to overcome, opinion that Math ‘can’t be got’, and therefore  must be hated, simply because of the inability of others to solve all or some of the concepts taught and problems given. This imbalanced view negatively warps some mindsets one way or an other;

  1. They tie Math and other academic success to self-worth
  2. Students begin to doubt their abilities based on single results rather than embracing an attitude of process and progress instead of performance.
  3. Problem solving skills are mitigated out of the day by educators who feel they have to cover what’s in the text books rather than what’s needed by their students. In other words they are being taught to the test rather than being allow to test what they’re taught.
  4. Resilience is skill that goes further underdeveloped in favour of focusing on report card marks. Instead of emphasising growth from concept attainment, iterative thinking, and real life application opportunities students are made to live, breathe, and be measured by a singular method and measure.

Simply put, we can’t allow alternative facts, false beliefs, or misinformation to infect the minds of our learners and colleagues. Yes, teachers believe that they can’t do Math too. We need to stand in the gap to prevent and dispel destructive mindsets. For some students and teachers this means time to unlearn, a safe place to make mistakes, relearn, and start again.

If we equip our learners with the ability to re-frame their focus with confidence and arm them with problem solving tools we can erase the discourse of doubt that plagues so many. This will run counter to the mass instruction of the past, but it will be better than perpetuating the destruction any longer. We need to understand that we are works in process and success will look different from lesson to lesson and learner to learner.

Perhaps then, the breezy breath of fresh air will be felt as a change for the better by everyone? In the meantime, I will be moving the air about my classroom like a human tornado helping students understand that thinking they are not good at Math is does not equal the truth.

I hope you liked this post. If you did, please consider subscribing. If you didn’t please consider subscribing to keep an eye on me or offer me some constructive feedback. I’d appreciate it and look forward to the learning.

Uprooted

This post is written in order to explain some of the back story for a blog post on ETFO’s Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning blog.

In 1978, my family packed up and moved from a very small western town in Wyoming to Toronto. At the time, it was a devastating life event. Everything and everyone I knew was in flux. Where would we live? Would the people there be nice to us? Even though I was Canadian by birth, I feared being treated like a stranger in my own country.  Needless to say, I was not thrilled to be uprooted and then replanted. Worse than that, I felt alone.

Who knew, in hindsight, that a new learning adventure would unfold in the Summer of 1978?

A home in a new neighbourhood – Jane and Finch.
A new school(my 3rd in as many years) – first experience with multiculturalism.
A new grade(7 – awkward).

On the first day of school, I am taken outside to my new class which was located in an L-shaped porta-pack. By this point, some doubts were forming. Why the heck, can’t this school afford real classrooms like back in Wyoming?  The door opens and I am nudged in. Suddenly it felt like a new prisoner being thrown into general population. The eyes of my new classmates glared as if they’d been rudely awakened from a deep sleep. Why wasn’t anyone wearing bell bottoms like me?

I missed my home, my friends, my town. I missed being able to walk to the YMCA after school. I missed my dishwasher job at the deli, and I missed the mountains. Where were the mountains? When we left Canada in 1970 there were mountains.

That first week I realized that some people were nice, others indifferent, and that others were just mean. It took time to find a friend, and that came with many awkward lessons. What did any of us have in common at first? I had a western drawl, a bowl haircut and wore hand me downs. With time, I found out where I fit in thanks to two friends named Jerry B and Terry L, where the Becker’s store was along the way home, and how to hold a hockey stick.

There were tears, fist fights(sorry mom), angry words, and frustration that eventually gave way to acceptance, understanding, and friendships. And then there was my first school dance. DON’T ask! That was more about pre-adolescent survival than anything else. Although, the Led Zeppelin was a welcome relief to overcome the Disco.

And new subjects, like French and Italian. Did I mention that the history was completely different from what I was taught? Where were the rockets red glare and waving flags? Or, that I had to use something called the Metric System for measurement?

And then we moved again and it started all over again at new school in a different neighbourhood of Toronto. I remember my dad saying how adversity was character building and that there is always something to learn through all of these opportunities.

Fast forward to 2017, I’m loving every minute of my 8th year as an educator, and not much has changed since 1978. A charismatic Prime Minister named Trudeau leads the country. Gas prices hover around a dollar – except that’s per litre instead per gallon. The world continues to become a smaller place as technology connects us all. Immigrants continue to make Canada their home and we become a stronger nation from our depth of diversity.

Disco still sucks. Standardized tests continue to be a reviling option in education. Dictators are still dictating in some familiar and not so expected places. Rush is still rocking, Quebec is still threatening to separate every now and again, and the Toronto Maple Leafs are still trying to hoist the Stanley Cup again.

I’m glad we moved back because Canada is the best country on the planet by the metric equivalent to a country mile (1.62 km). Thank you.

OK. Back to the Heart and Art blog.

 

 

Tick…tick…ticked off

By Imager23 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Tick…tick…tick…

The sound heard in classrooms all over Canada. To a handful  it feels like the second hand has been stuck on the same spot for far too long. While for many others, it’s spinning away like a Sesna propeller at take off. Where did the year go?

Does this sound familiar in your school as the academic year comes to a close? Don’t you wish there was a little more time to share, challenge, and grow with students in the classroom? I sure do.

Recently a local media outlet shared that teachers are phoning in the last weeks because report cards were done. I’m here to say that statements like these do not accurately reflect an over-whelming majority of educators and are thus utter BS (bologna slices) IMO.

Firestarter

As part of my daily 10 minute commute, I listen to the radio. Most days it’s CBC Radio 2, but on June 22 the tuner landed on CBC’s Metro Morning, also found via TwitterMetroMorningBSfor the segment that sparked this post. When I shared it with my colleagues, they too were disappointed at such skewed perceptions from a usually credible media source.

How does painting a negative portrait of our profession with such broad strokes show balanced journalism? The last weeks in a classroom cannot be taught on auto-pilot because there is still a lot to teach, discover, and share. So contrary to a public broadcaster’s opinion, the kids and teachers have not “checked out”.

Sorry I’m not sorry to burst this bogus bubble folks, but the kids will have to sit on their own couches over the Summer if they want to watch a movie. Especially, in my class because there’s still learning to do after losing the better part of a week to standardized testing earlier this month.

What makes this difficult to understand, for me, are the incendiary intentions attached to narrow minded statements like these? What is the gain of creating enmity in statements about our profession without hearing from those who  are making a difference in their classrooms from start to finish? StillLearning

I replied via Twitter with a few reminder posts that students are involved in ongoing inquiry and real life problem solving in Math.

Please remember that what we do comes with mountains of misunderstandings from many sources. Our calling to be educators carries a nobility and satisfaction unlike any other that allows us to be the difference makers in the lives of all who we teach. Somehow that message gets lost even by the media.

Can anyone who hasn’t worked in a classroom with students for longer than an interview segment really understand what educators pour into each day to prepare for their learners?  I didn’t think so.

Gotta go. There’s work to be done.

Thank you for reading my post. If you like what you’ve read please subscribe and share.
Feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section too. Will

Batting 300 – Swinging for the fences pt 2 — The Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning

This is the second post in my word series in spirit of circling the bases of baseball and education. I’m back at the plate to take another swing. Click here for an instant ‘read’play of my first at bat. It’s the 7th inning, and your back at the plate, again. So far you have popped out to short stop, struck…

via Batting 300 – Swinging for the fences pt 2 — The Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning

Keep swinging for the fences — The Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning

photo by jcclark74 CC0 Spring is definitely here, perhaps this is not so evident in our temperamental weather, but by the fact that baseball season is back. In honour of that I wanted to share some connections to how being a student of the game is like learning in the classroom. I look at baseball as a sport for all ages…

via Keep swinging for the fences — The Heart and Art of Teaching and Learning