Category Archives: Write6x6

Digging Deep through Connections

Witnessing the learning of students as it happens is a wonderful experience and a major part of why I became an educator. Sometimes I must get creative to help facilitate student realization.
Recently, I was teaching the novel Invisible Man to my AP students. Most might be able to relate to the ideas/concepts that are relevant to the novel on a surface level, but they do not have the life experience to truly comprehend the depth of the novel. We were about five chapters in when I wanted to have a discussion on some of the motifs within the novel but needed a platform for them to dig deep.

We had discussed the historical concepts that impact the novel, but the students need more to get to higher level thinking. To begin I started by asking students what freedom means. Most stated definitions such as begin able to do what they want, not having people judge them, and other concepts that are important to 17 and 18-year olds. The asked me what I thought freedom was and I told them I would tell them the next day. I wanted them to come to some conclusions the next day.

I had come across a docu-series The Story of Us with Morgan Freeman where he takes big concepts such as peace or freedom and does interviews from around the world for each episode. To help the students think about the concept of freedom on a deeper level, I showed them the first 15ish minutes of the episode. The students were enthralled by what they heard—one was a slave in North Korea who escaped, and another was a person spent the longest time in solitary confinement in U. S. history. We discussed the effects of the two interviews they saw and how they apply to freedom.

The next day, I explained that I thought freedom was a state of mind and showed the rest of the docu-series episode that focused on the Declaration of Independence phrasing, and two additional stories of people who gained freedom on their terms.

Afterwards the students had a Socratic Discussion on freedom, and most could connect the idea of it being a state of mind with the novel. They were seeing beyond themselves (which is difficult for students of this age). It allowed them to dig deep.

Sometimes students need a connection that allows them to see things in a new way.

 

Think Like Your Learners. Say what?

I am fairly certain I am the only person who does this, but sometimes I will watch a YouTube video with a specific purpose in mind, and an hour later I am still watching videos that are not related whatsoever to my original video. It’s true. Recently I sat down with the purpose of learning how to operate a verticutter and an hour later I was watching music videos of 1970s diva Helen Reddy! There are days when I wish I could have that wasted hour back.

Not always do these video sessions result in wasted time. Last week my purpose was to watch a tutorial of the online lesson-builder SoftchalkTM. As I was viewing, out of the corner of my eye, I could see a suggested video called 10 Lessons I Learned My First Year in eLearning by Tim Slade. I could not resist. I fell for the bait. The next time I had a spare 44 minutes I watched the video. I was not disappointed. The audience for the video was focused more towards instructional technologists, but the content was still valuable. All ten lessons were interesting and I would like to explore some of them more deeply, but the one that caught my interest was lesson #5: Think Like Your Learners. I Have been a CPA and an accounting professor over 30 years. I know my discipline well. It was one of the reasons I was hired. However, Slade suggested to not focus so much on being a subject matter expert and design a course based on the needs of the learners and the motivations of the learners. The motivations of learners? The longer I let that sink in, the less I understand what those motivations are. As an experienced educator, I know with which topics students will struggle. I adjust my lessons and spend more time on the challenging topics. I believe this is the purpose of assessment, both formative and summative. But understanding students’ struggles with content is not the same as understanding their needs and motivations. I do not even know where to begin to understand student motivation.

Coincidentally, the same week I was viewing and reflecting on Slade’s lessons, an invitation to attend Reimagine Teaching and Learning appeared in my inbox. Reimagine Teaching and Learning is a workshop sponsored by the CTLE that allows faculty to step back, re-think, and imagine how their courses could operate to increase teaching satisfaction and student engagement. The workshop is based on Purdue University’s IMPACT transformation. IMPACT is a 13-week transformational program which guides faculty through the process of purposely creating a course designed to meet student needs. IMPACT is based on self-determination theory which suggests that a student-centered learning environment will be created when students feel connected to the class, when they have mastered the material, and when they take ownership of the learning process. Hmm. So, Slade is suggesting a course be designed based on student motivations and then this perfect opportunity falls in my lap to learn how to re-design courses to increase student motivation. I believe the Greek goddess of luck, Fortuna, was smiling upon me and sent me this opportunity. I look forward to attending and hope for guidance as we transform education to meet the needs of the learners.

Fortuna, goddess of luck and fate.

 

What Prevents Creativity, or Some Thoughts on creativity, Part II

One of the greatest hindrances to creativity is the desire for perfection. I phrase it this way, “desire for perfection,” on purpose because perfection really is determined through individual judgment. In other words, perfection is a determination and not a state of being. Is a child who is born with eight toes imperfect?  Is a grammatically flawless novel intriguing if the plot itself is boring?  We humans get to decide when something is perfect, and so we also decide when it is not. And in this determining and desiring, we often use perfection to let ourselves off the hook. We might find ourselves having thoughts like, “Well, I’m not going to get it perfect, so why try it at all?” This, in truth, is simply a way of avoiding having to attempt something, especially if we feel unsure about doing it and living up to our own standards. What we forget, sometimes, is that we often have the power to shift the standard. We can give ourselves permission to try something and not be good at it.

We also might find ourselves taking another tact and declaring: “I’m not good at _____.” I hear people say this all the time. I tell them what I do for a living, and they say, “Oh, I’m not good at English.” And I think, “If English is your primary language, and you’re communicating to me right now using that language, and I’m understanding you, how are you not good at it?” I think what that person means to say is perhaps one of the following:

  • “I don’t enjoy writing.”
  • “In the past, I haven’t experienced the results I wish to in my English classes.”
  • “I have other, stronger, natural abilities that fall into other disciplines. And I have been rewarded for those.”

In general, we don’t like to do what we’re not good at  because we haven’t been rewarded for it in the past. However, not being rewarded doesn’t actually mean that we’re not good at that given task. My poetry is rejected by publishers on a regular basis. But any poet’s poetry is. In the world of contemporary poetry, regular rejection is part of the process. That rejection doesn’t mean the poetry isn’t good. It means that that publisher isn’t interested in publishing it.

When we aren’t good at something, that in itself is a different kind of invitation. Not being good at something doesn’t mean we must banish it from our lives forever. Here’s an example:

My drawing skills arrested at about the third or fourth grade level. I have trouble drawing anything but stick figures.  And when I color, I don’t like to stay in the lines. One time, about a dozen years ago, I was in a writing workshop, and we had to storyboard (draw) our topic. What I realized is that with no one to judge me, I really enjoyed the drawing process. Was I good at it? No. I hadn’t elevated my fourth grade skills. Did I enjoy it? Yes, greatly. It felt contemplative. It was tactile, and I am a tactile person. Did I see the story I was about to write differently for drawing it out? I did; the process made me use a different part of my brain., and I was able to expand my approach. Did it matter that I suck at drawing? Not at all. Did I have to stay in the lines? Nope.

Giving ourselves permission to do something that we are not very skilled at is a way to encounter creativity because we are inviting our brain to do something it either hasn’t done in a while, or it hasn’t done at all. Doing something we’re not good at fires up new neurons which gets us thinking and seeing the world in new ways.

My suggestion? Give yourself some low stakes: draw for yourself. Play a round of golf on a public course. Go bowling by yourself. Doodle in a meeting. Try something you think you’re not good at and leave the self-judgment behind. What does it feel like to give yourself permission in this way? What does it feel like to do something and enjoy the process without worrying about the outcome?  My hope is that it will be freeing, and in the freedom will come new ideas and impulses, which is the very heart of creativity.

 

what is your happy face?

I usually have my students take a quick brain break midway through class to help take their minds off of thinking too much and sitting waaaay too much.

One favorite activity begins with me asking what a basic happy face looks like. Simple: A circle, two dots and a curve.

Then I have them go to the board and draw their own version of a happy face…

What

is

your

happy

face…?

Keep an eye out… you just may see some of these students walking around campus – You’ll recognize them by their smiles…!

 

WE MATTER

     In January, I had the honor of emceeing the 2019 Districtwide Faculty Convocation. All faculty throughout the district took the time out of their day to join us for a day of learning, sharing, and celebration. I was honored because I was asked to emcee an event that had not been conducted in years, in 2019 this special event made its comeback.

As the emcee, I had the honor of sharing final thoughts with the audience at the end of the event. The statement below is what I shared at the event. The message was WE MATTER. The message is definitely geared towards faculty, but I think anyone can pull something from the message. When we feel like we matter we bring our best to the table and those we are serving receive the best that we have to offer, and that is a wonderful thing.

 “We matter. As a collective, as a whole, we are some of the best and brightest. We are responsible for teaching students. Everything we say and do impacts their lives in direct and indirect ways. We are responsible for engaging in instruction, systems, and processes that will contribute to their success. This engagement requires change and it makes us uncomfortable, which can lead to uncertainty and can lead to anxiety. We matter when change comes about. Our thoughts, ideas, opinions, and actions can go a long way and has a significant impact. We can help things thrive when we come together. When we realize we are on the same team. I’ve seen amazing things happen when faculty come together. I’ve seen faculty pull together and donate textbooks so that the students will have the materials they need to be successful in the classroom. I’ve seen faculty senate come together and contribute to Student Appreciation Night so that students feel like they are important, and that they have worth and value. The two examples I just gave, are just two of the many reasons why we matter. There is power in the work that we do, especially when we come together. We are stronger together than we are apart. That power is diminished when we are working against each other. I encourage all of us to remember that we matter and that we serve a purpose in this district. We all have worth and value, and we’re not alone. We are surrounded by colleagues and campuses who support each other and are here to ensure that we are successful throughout the district. Thank you.”

Changes that Lead to Student Success

After years of doing assessments and submitting the results before the end-of-term deadline, I finally realized I could actually be using the data. I have finally made some consistent changes that have led to greater levels of understanding and success in my classroom. Here are my top three.

Change # 1
Every single Exercise Physiology class starts with music and movement. Not just some classes when I feel like it. All classes. You might be thinking to yourself, “well of course, it’s an exercise class, why wouldn’t you be doing exercise with them?” I am teaching the science of exercise, so they are basically learning anatomy and physiology and how that applies to the acute and chronic adaptations to exercise. So, it is highly plausible that I could lecture for 75 minutes straight. Zzzzzzzz.

But no more! I have physical and visual evidence that my students are more engaged following a three minute bout of movement to music that will last for at least 30 minutes.

Change # 2
I have Included the arts in my sciences. I make my students draw pictures in their notes. The art lovers in class really enjoy this, and the non-artsy people appreciate that I bring coloring pencils and I teach them how to draw in a very simplified manner. I also give them visuals to think about to really break down the parts of their drawing. For example, the cell body of a neuron looks a lot like an egg after you have thrown it onto a hot oily frying pan. And the central nervous system (brain and spinal cord) looks just like a lollipop.

It is much easier to review your notes when you have pictures depicting what your words are telling you. Just like I am more likely to read a textbook that has helpful pictures rather than all text and tables.

Change # 3
Less words on slides. I can actually watch their cortisol levels rise when I put up a slide that looks like it has 250 words on it. The serious note takers go into panic, wondering how they will ever jot down all these words. No matter how many times I tell them they have access to the slides, they still feel the need to write everything down, just in case it is on the test. So if you remove all that text and put down two key words that have an emotional impact, they are forced to think for themselves and jot down their own notes.

That is another opportunity to draw images on the board, give examples and simply explain the topic as it relates to their world. Then they give me their examples, we all nod in universal acceptance and we can move on to the next topic. Making an emotional connection will have a greater impact on memory compared to a slide full of words.

So just to recap: move to music for three minutes, encourage the arts, and post impactful words, not paragraphs.

 

My First Black Teacher

Do any of you remember your first black teacher? I’m guessing many can say they never had one. I can say that I only had two from elementary school all the way through grad school. If I lived my whole life in Arizona, that might be understandable given the 4% African American population in this state. But I started my education growing up in an all black neighborhood in Columbus, OH. I mean everybody was black. Except for the teachers. I didn’t think anything of it. Teachers were just white.

Then when I started junior high school, my mom thought it would be a great idea to bus me to an all white school. Guess what? There weren’t any black teachers there either. Two busloads of black kids shipped off to white suburbia to fend for ourselves. Little did I know that we were part of desegregation busing, the practice of assigning and transporting kids to schools so as to overcome the effects of residential segregation on local school demographics. All I knew was it sucked. I never felt like that was my school. We were just visitors.

In the fall of 1947, Seattle Public Schools hired its first two black teachers.
Thelma DeWitty reads to her second-grade students at Cooper Elementary School in 1950. (Josef Scaylea / The Seattle Times)

We moved to Arizona the following year, and I remember feeling relieved. In Central Phoenix I wasn’t the only minority. There were Mexican and Native American kids too. Brown people unite. But Phoenix had its own version of desegregation busing even though it probably wasn’t planned that way. I lived right across the street from North HS, but some how I found myself riding the city bus everyday to Central. My mom was crazy sneaky like that. There might have been black teachers at North, but I didn’t see a one at Central. They were all white, so clearly they were the better teachers.

When you grow up never seeing anyone who looks like you in roles of leadership and prestige, you start to believe you can never achieve that yourself. Thank goodness I NEVER wanted to be a teacher, so it never really bothered me until I left for college. After spending two years at Phoenix College, I went to a Historically Black College (HBC) in Texas. Woot woot! Certainly, there will black teachers there. Nope. Well, there were a few, but not teaching the courses I was taking. Except for my Spanish teacher. She was my first black teacher. I remember myself acknowledging that fact one day in class and thinking: my first black teacher and I can’t understand a word she’s saying. Haha!

Inclusivity

There is a point to all this reminiscing about my schooling. It reminds me that there are many individual students who find themselves in similar situations as I did growing up or even feeling marginalized. Even today we have students who are minorities, LGBTQ, physically or mentally disabled who show up in our classrooms wondering if they fit in. Many are the first in their families to go to college, so there’s no precedence. Many will look around the room and see very few faces like their own and wonder if they can do it. So for me, I feel as if I have to do more than just be their first black teacher. I have to try to be more inclusive with these students. Not because they feel they need it, but because I feel like every student should feel as if they are a part of their community and develop a sense of belonging and hopefully become better prepared for life because of that.

Sisters

I am a firm believer in storytelling as a way to bond, build connections and develop a sense of community.  In my elementary teaching days, there were few things as powerful as “Question of the Day”, which was a time when we would sit in a circle and have our morning meeting.   If they were not in a verbal mood, or simply did not feel like addressing the question they passed.  In grade school, the students were so eager that I added a tangible component in the form of a stuffed animal. The student in charge of the question of the day would select that day’s mascot, read the question, and then select the student who would share first.  When a student was in possession of the mascot they could share.  If it was not in their hands they were in listening mode.  In this way, I learned a lot about “my kids,” what they liked, their fears and their interests.  Children are beautiful in that you usually know what you are getting.  Their top layer of self-protection has not fully formed.  They are open with their comments and eager to share.  They tend not to hold back or filter too much.

Naturally, in my current E.S.L. adult classes I look for ways to build-in storytelling.  Until the community is strong, adult students are understandably a bit more guarded.  A lot of their storytelling first evolves through their writing.  In my Writing with Oral Practice class, I gave the students open-ended writing assignments.   Most of my students were beyond the book in their mastery of skills and grammar.  When they were given open-ended questions they wrote with abandon.   Some of the writing assignments I gave them were, to write about a person they admired, to write about a special memory, or a write about a time they were afraid.  The stories they produced were poetic and worthy of publication, often deeply personal and wrought with emotion.

Zayra, a very well put together woman who worked in an upscale retail store was sassy and direct. Once she told Leticia, one of her classmates, that her tote bag didn’t look good on her and that she would bring her a better one.  When Zayra said this to Leticia, it was not taken as an insult, it was simply a statement of fact and a sincere offer.  Several of us chimed in, “Bring me one too!”  Zayra was usually rushing to and from class, coming from work or from dropping her children off.  Often one of her children would call her, either needing to be picked up, just checking in or to ask her a question.  She was always well-mannered, excusing herself, calling me aside at some point to apologize for the interruption and explaining the urgency of her situation.

When present in class she was happy, enthusiastic and in good spirits.  Occasionally she brought in homemade dishes to share.  She was a giving person and it was evident that she received joy from sharing her cooking skills.  Her food was delicious and well- received.  For some, it was a taste of the home-made cooking which they missed.  For others, it was a special treat that we would then compare to food from our own culture.  This led to many discussions about the differences and similarities in different ways of preparing food. At times Zayra was quite exhausted, a few times she arrived at class, and I had to ask her if she needed to go home because she did not her beautiful polished self and looked either tired or ill.  One evening her work was completed in her usual manner of writing, a bit sloppy and appearing carelessly done. I did not comment on it, but it stuck in my mind.

In one of her later writings, she revealed that she had separated from her husband, who had been unfaithful to her.  She addressed the pain of his actions and the courage it took for her to move forward without him.  She was now the single parent of several children.   When I read her essay, I reprimanded myself for my unkind thoughts and then suddenly understood so much more about her story.  I now knew why she was exhausted, why her presentation about her family trip had included no pictures of her husband, and why she was always on call for her children.

One of the habits I developed was never to write comments on their original papers. I attached comments on another sheet, or I photocopied their writing and made comments on the copy.  Their writing felt sacred.  I was honored that they opted to share such personal stories and I did not want to be disrespectful by writing comments on their original documents.  I found ways to comment on what they wrote to let them know that they were special and that I valued their trust.  Whether it was an acknowledgment of something they shared, “The necklace that your mother gave to you is beautiful.” or “Thank you for sharing that picture of your children, they look like they had a good time playing in the snow.”

In a setting that can feel overly formal, we enjoyed hearing stories about each other’s lives outside of the classroom.  I included myself in the storytelling by sharing appropriate stories of my own when it was relevant.  This more than anything seemed to help the students feel at ease with me.  When they knew a little more about me they felt more comfortable.  I was surprised at the many commonalities between us.

Towards the end of the semester, Zayra and a classmate, Milla, one from Iraq and one from Iran, said to me, “Teacher you are like a sister to us” and they hugged me.  A trio of sisters from around the globe, brought together at a night class on the campus of GCC – just another night in adult education.

food salad restaurant person
Photo by Stokpic on Pexels.com

In one of her later writings, she revealed that she had separated from her husband, who had been unfaithful to her.  She addressed the pain of his actions and the courage it took for her to move forward without him.  She was now the single parent of several children.   When I read her essay, I reprimanded myself for my unkind thoughts and then suddenly understood so much more about her story.  I now knew why she was exhausted, why her presentation about her family trip had included no pictures of her husband, and why she was always on call for her children.

One of the habits I developed was never to write comments on their original papers. I attached comments on another sheet, or I photocopied their writing and made comments on the copy.  Their writing felt sacred.  I was honored that they opted to share such personal stories and I did not want to be disrespectful by writing comments on their original documents.  I found ways to comment on what they wrote to let them know that they were special and that I valued their trust.  Whether it was an acknowledgment of something they shared, “The necklace that your mother gave to you is beautiful.” or “Thank you for sharing that picture of your children, they look like they had a good time playing in the snow.”

Towards the end of the semester, Zayra and a classmate, Milla, one from Iraq and one from Iran, said to me, “Teacher you are like a sister to us” and they hugged me.  A trio of sisters from around the globe, brought together at a night class on the campus of GCC – just another night in adult education.

 

To bend WITHOUT BREAKING

Several years ago, I had a student at GCC who taught me that a major difference between success and failure as an educator is malleability.

Stock photo of a reed bending in the wind.
“The green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm.”

― Confucius

When I received the notification that I would have an American Sign Language interpreter in my class for the first time, I was excited. My mother is also an educator, currently in administration, but taught ASL early on in her career. When I was a child, she could not afford a babysitter and frequently brought me along as she taught late night ASL college courses. I never learned sign language outside of the alphabet or how to ask and answer basic questions, but was excited to make use of what little I knew from my mother’s teachings from twenty years earlier.

Childhood photo of Mr. Moore
A very young Mr. Moore…

Overconfidence leads to cruel reality checks. I was not prepared or capable of communicating with my student without the help of the interpreter. The interpreter was very kind about my attempts, but I had to give up on using any sign language as to not create confusion. I quickly reverted to my default teaching method, which is high energy and high speed.

After the first few writing assignments, I knew something was wrong. It was obvious that the lessons and lectures were not getting through. The reality is that I was the one struggling and not my student. I had become rigid in my methods after three years of teaching the same curriculum and using the same PowerPoints, videos, and handouts. Those methods were directly leading to an obviously gifted student failing my course. I’m ashamed to admit that I did not want to adapt, I defended my stubbornness by telling myself that I should keep doing the same thing I had always done because change would hurt the rest of my class.

My student’s first essay broke through that stubbornness. I still remember her conclusion on how the deaf still hear the music of life. There were grammatical, mechanical, and formatting errors aplenty, but the poetry of her language revealed passion and talent. I could tell she was upset when she saw the grade. After class that day I sat down with her, pointed out her gift for language, and did my best to encourage her. Once she left, still downtrodden, I had a conversation with her interpreter. They confirmed everything I already knew I was doing that was making learning more difficult.

I needed to slow down the speed at which I went through lectures, re-work my materials, and dig for relevant videos with subtitles. I won’t say it was a perfect transition, but over time my methods improved and the entire class, not just one student, benefited. She ended up passing that course, and the next level course after it.

Image of the entrance to High Tech 2 on the Glendale Community College Campus
Home to the CTLE and one of my favorite locations on the GCC Campus: HT2

One day, a semester later, I saw her in the curved glass hallway in the HT2 building on campus. She waved me down and walked up with a contagious smile. Without her interpreter the conversation was a bit awkward, but I had learned if I spoke slowly enough she could lipread incredibly well. After a short update on her coursework, she thanked me for helping her pass English. It is hard to put into words, but her genuine excitement created a memory I still treasure now. I was able to reply with one of the few signs I did know: “Thank you”, and that was the last time I saw her.

I like to think that she is now nearing a decade into her career in art design. If I could, I would elaborate on my final words to her: “Thank you for making me realize that malleability isn’t a bad word, that sometimes we have to bend if we are to evolve into a better version of ourselves.”

Animated image of "Thank you" in American Sign Language.
Thank you!

 

I Was Here First

My adult E.S.L. students were assigned presentations to help them with their verbal fluency.  Through those presentations, I learned about a range of new topics including cooking native dishes such as Persian Potatoes Kuku, growing bean sprouts in the manner which Vi, a Vietnamese woman, learned from her mother.  Teresa brought her binder of coupons and several large bottles of shampoo and explained to the class how she had purchased those bottles at no cost using manufactures coupons as well as store discounts.  She immediately had their attention when she explained that she spent no money to buy the large bottles covering the desk. When asked why she needed so much shampoo she explained that her purchases were very much appreciated when given to friends and family in Mexico. Her presentation was among the most appreciated by the students, most of whom had no idea how to use coupons.

Asal, a young Afghani woman, shared with us about the beauty of her hometown in the Bamiyan Valley of central Afghanistan where ancient giant Buddha statues destroyed in 2001.  Many of us in the class had followed that event when it happened but listening to someone from that geographic area speak about the devastation to her country with such deep sorrow was moving.

Mateo shared about his travels from Cuba to Ecuador and then up north through Central America to Texas.  He brought in a handmade map drawn for the purpose of showing us his journey. He told us about the challenges of working as an immigrant in Ecuador and the difficulty of earning enough income to survive.  Mateo spoke about the generosity of strangers who provided him with food and invited him into their homes during the long journey.

Unfortunately, when he finally arrived at the American border in Texas, he was astounded at the poor treatment he received from American border patrol agents.  Their accent and appearance indicated that these border agents were Latino and definitely they were native Spanish speakers.  They were rude and seemed to go out of their way to make it clear that they were not impressed by his pursuit of American citizenship. They treated him as if they were not themselves first generation children of immigrants.  He left us speechless and brought us to tears.  Those who were of Latino origin knew exactly the cultural experience Mateo described.

He shared the interactions that transpired between himself, an immigrant who quite literally sacrificed his life to get to this country, and the first Americans he met in the United States, descended from Latino immigrants.  He was treated as an inferior, not worthy of respect.  His will, his sacrifices and his steadfast focus on attaining his goals demonstrated a strength of character that thankfully most of us will never have to draw upon.  Mateo saw the irony of the border agents who were treating those who followed in their fathers’ footsteps as if by negating the experiences of their parents they were more virtuous than someone recently arrived.  Despite politics, immigration laws, and job duties, there are ways to treat others with civility and kindness.   Mateo asked, “Why they cannot have compassion for someone who is like their parents?”   It was a question to which there could be no satisfactory answer.