My students have to write every day in a journal/planner that I’ve developed for them. Most of the time I don’t care what they write about, as long as they do it. I always give them a prompt in case they can’t think of a topic, but rarely do I require them to write on it.

So most of the time it’s just mundane everyday stuff. Sometimes it’s filled with the drama of eighth grade social strife. Sometimes it’s stories. Sometimes it’s poetry.

A few years ago I stopped letting them draw pictures. I hated doing it because I hate limiting creativity, and I love the visual aspect of literacy. But it got to a point where there was more drawing going on than writing or reflecting. And it wasn’t even good or thoughtful drawing. It was just filler.

This year a particularly talented student has discovered a loophole. I only saw these while checking their binders before Christmas break. So I had no prior knowledge of them. After her first entry of the kind, it didn’t take long for her buddies to catch on.

Sometimes teaching sucks. And then sometimes–when you see stuff like this–it totally rocks.

I started a Masters program this fall and have to tell you–it’s a blast. I’m learning so many cool things! Recently we were asked to revisit our “Philosophies of Education.” So I got to play around with this the other night.

I’ve mentioned stuff like this in passing before. But I’ve never formulated (and articulated) what I believe “education” is all about so emphatically.

We had some choices for presentation, and I went with a pamphlet type of thing that we could give to students or parents, which is pretty tough to recreate here, but I think you’ll get the gist.

I imagine I’ll continue to tweek it. I’ve already changed a couple of things even after turning it in last weekend. I’m just that way I guess.

Okay, enough chit-chat.

All the stats and images came from, Shift Happens, over at Slideshare.

Learning is Heroic

According to former Secretary of Education Richard Riley, the top 10 in-demand jobs in 2010 did not exist in 2004.

I believe that real, lasting and valuable teaching and learning is a creative process anchored to a framework of ideas about what is possible. We live in unique times. Technology is fueling an information explosion.  This has profound implications for teaching and learning. Consider, for example, these two statistical bits from one of my favorite presentations, “Shift Happens,” originally developed by Karl Fisch:

• The U.S. Department of Labor estimates that today’s learner will have 10-14 jobs by the age of 38.
• The amount of new technical information is doubling every 2 years. For students starting a four-year technical or college degree, this means that half of what they learn in their first year of study will be outdated by their third year of study.

It’s statements like these that lead me to believe that teaching, learning, and curriculum should focus less on content, and more on the skills needed to communicate, as well as creatively and critically solve problems.

In order for this to happen, I think our entire educational landscape will have to undergo paradigm shifts that will change the very structure of what we do.  We must shake the very bedrock.

Big shifts like this mean risk. They mean venturing into unknown territory. They mean adventure.

10 years ago, who could have predicted Google? Who then could even foresee the problems that search engines would solve? Today, there are over 2.7 billion searches performed on Google each month. Information is expanding and change exponential. Tomorrow’s great thinkers and leaders are today’s risk takers and problem solvers.

They are our hero’s.

I believe we desperately need a new and heroic vision in education. One that can grow and adapt at today’s rate of change. One that leads in the exploration of new ideas. One that not only reads and writes and shares and analyzes information, but that also recognizes, values and nurtures a creative spirit–the spirit of the hero, unafraid of failure, able to take a hit and recover after setbacks, reassess the terrain, learn, adapt and continue on toward victory.

Students need skills that will allow them to solve problems that don’t exist  yet—true. But to do this, they will also need adventurous and creative attitudes to be able to adapt to the ever-changing landscape.

Learning has just become heroic. It’s a shift, I know. But . . .

Shift Happens.

The Hero Path
“We have not even to risk the hero’s adventure alone, for the heroes of all time have gone before us. The labyrinth is thoroughly known.
We have only to follow the thread of the hero path.
And where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god.
And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves.
Where we had thought to travel outward, we shall come to the center of our own existence.
And where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world.”
—Joseph Campbell

Periodically we’ll get a wasp in the house. You know how it is.

One moment, you’re snacking on toast with peanut butter and chocolate chips, and the next, all hell breaks loose because a wasp starts dive-bombing random targets around the room.

The toast? Fuggetaboutit. One eye’s on the wasp, the other, frantically scanning the room for potential weapons–a fly swatter, a magazine, a shoe, a flame-thrower–something.

Anything.

For the briefest of moments, you even consider that toxic bug spray in the closet. Then you spot it. Sitting on the coffee table, not three feet away, is Al Gore’s, An Inconvenient Truth. The weapon of choice for desperate wasp killers.

Perfect.

You grab it, crouch, and wait for the wasp to land. For a moment, it hovers near the blades of a ceiling fan. Then, as if in a in a drunken stupor, it bobs and weaves toward the wall. For what seems an eternity, it darts around a window. Maybe it dives at an armchair.

Adrenalin laced thoughts whiz through your skull.

Why can’t it just land and make it easy for me.

If it lands on the curtains, I wonder if I can still squish it between the book and the wall?

Do wasp guts stain?

Maybe I should take a swing at it in mid-air.

Maybe, though, I’d just piss it off.

If I pissed it off, would it attack–fly down the front of my shirt, sting me mercilessly until it finally crawled up my neck and into my ear?

I wonder how that teacher dude in Karate Kid picked off that fly with a pair of chopsticks.

I wish I was him right now.

Meanwhile the wasp, understanding this internal monlog completely, bounces nonchalantly against the ceiling, making its way back to the center of the room.

Suddenly it dives right at you, causing you to flail your arms and make panicky grunting noises.

The wasp, chuckling with satisfaction, glides back up to the ceiling fan, lands on one of the lights, turns, and gives you the finger.

What are you going to do? Trash a perfectly good light fixture? Even if you did take a swing, the bastard’s protected by the other lights, fan blades, and curved nature of the glass around the bulb.

And now you begin to grasp the reality of the situation: You could be at this all night.

Curses. Bloody Red Barron.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. And today I make my revenge by revealing an ancient technique I learned while studying in the orient. The same one I used on that actual unsuspecting wasp in the picture above.

Warning: the following pictures are of a graphic and violent act perpetrated against a real wasp that actually flipped me the bird.

Follow these steps exactly–there is no room for error. Failure to do so could result in death by wasp sting to the inner ear.

1. Quickly find a scissors.
2. Sneak up behind the wasp.
3. Using one fluid motion, thrust the scissors forward, snip, and slice the son-of-a-whore in two.

Usually all that’s left after that is to pick up the pieces. The only tricky part is getting close enough with your opened scissors before it takes flight. As risky as this seems, most wasps are so blinded by arrogance they never suspect any trouble. It’s not their experience that men, sneaking around light fixtures with toast crumbs on their face, are actually highly trained killing machines.

It’s not their experience that men, sneaking around light fixtures with toast crumbs on their face, are actually highly trained killing machines.

While I’ve never actually been stung doing this, you should know, while very slick, this technique is not completely foolproof.

Take tonight for instance.

After the wasp landed in the ceiling fan, I looked around for a scissors–but the only one I could find was one of those plastic- child-not-really-sharp-ones. Still, I didn’t think it would make a difference.

Maybe it didn’t. Maybe I just missed my mark. But what happened next wasn’t exactly by the book. Instead of cutting it in two, I somehow managed to only pinch its antennae between the tip of the scissor blades.

Don’t ask me how. It’s never happened before. In fact, I later called the office of Strange But Totally Cool Ways to Kill Dangerous Insects and they told me that the odds of this happening are actually like a bazillion to one.

Anyway, after having my daughter take a picture. I found another scissors in an old Swiss Army Knife and took care of business.

So, my friends, there you have it.

Domestic men of the world rejoice. For no longer are we at mercy of this dangerous menace. No longer will we piss ourselves when we hear that loathsome buzzing. Today, the playing field has been leveled–just remember to wipe the food off your face.

A perfect example of how language is alive and growing. I learned two new words today.

Floweremabob–Noun. A word for anything you can’t think of the name of; used in place of thingamabob, used most often for things like this.

As in: “Hand me that flowermabob over there.”

Definitionize–Verb. To write the definition of a word, as you would do with a list of vocabulary words.

As in: “Mr. Wondra, do we have to definitionize all these words?“

Just a quick one tonight. Because when it comes to teaching and learning Powerpoint, I couldn’t have said it better myself:

Every other Thursday (or so) we have a morning staff meeting. This morning our principal (bless her heart) shared a little quiz with us to help keep it light. She got the quiz from a book by award winning teacher turned motivational speaker, Bill Collar.

Next week Mr. Collar will be coming to SCF to speak to us during an inservice, and after taking his quiz, I have to tell you–I’m kind of looking forward to it. It’s got to be better than analyzing standardized test scores or curriculum.

The book is entitled Exceeding the Standards: Teaching with Pride, Poise, and Passion. That link is just to his order page. His web site is set up a little funky so I couldn’t link directly to info about his book, but if you follow the original link I gave you, and hunt around a bit, you can take a look at an intro, the covers, and even the first chapter. I’ve got a copy of the book sitting right here that I’m going to check out when I have a little more time.

Anyway–the attitude quiz.

It’s one of those deals where you add it up at the end to find out what kind of attitude you have. The last category (the one if you scored low) says simply:

“Attitudes are contagious–please stay away from other people.”

I copied a few of the statments below. They’re fairly amusing. Go ahead. See if any ever apply to you.

1. When my alarm goes off I hit the “snooze button” or shut the alarm off and go back to sleep. I had too little rest and hate to have to get up and go to work.
2. I find something to wear, but realize clothes are just to cover the body. Staying in fashion or matching colors really doesn’t concern me.
3. Glancing at the morning newspaper I realize this is the worst condition our country has ever been in and it is just a matter of time before the government or economy will crumble
4. Most people drive too slowly and they bog me down. i would like to drive a tank so I can get to work on time. Everyone is a terrible driver but me.
5. People are much too happy at work. They must be faking it. When someone says, “Good morning,” I respond with, “What’s good about it?”
6. When I’m asked, “How are you today?” I proceed to tell about my physical ailments and personal problems. People should know just how tough my life is.
7. I make it a point to complain about my co-workers, even though I wouldn’t consider speaking with them privately. Many people just don’t know how to work.