Smokey and the Bandit: Goodbye, So Long, auf Wiedersehen, Goodnight

Aww, it's over all right? But--but it can't be over! When's the next installment?! You can't leave me on a cliffhanger like this, it isn't fair! You two can't pull a George R.R. Martin and disappear for ten years! I need you!

(Half)-Joking aside, I am sort of sad to reach that last page. I'll have to look into their other works as well.

One thing I did learn, though, was always be researching! Look at how many studies these two reference just in one chapter! Education is an always-shifting field, and we need to stay on top of studies and information if we want to stay on top of our game.

Regarding the reading skills: cognitive, linguistic, sociocultural, and critical. Smokey and the Bandit make it sound as though the different styles are mutually exclusive. But why not use a combination of all four? Make it stepping stones! You can't be critical of you read until you learn the cognitive maneuvers of reading and the linguistics of both readers and writers, after all. You don't wake up one morning and start arguing with authors. It takes time to learn those skills--and they are skills that I, a professed skilled reader and questioner of everything under the sun, am still learning myself.

The main gist I took away from this chapter is that reading is like any other skill--it takes practice and commitment and desire to improve. As one research noted, "you can't learn to read from a text you cannot read" and it's true! We need to step away from the idea that reading is an inherent ability (were any of us born knowing how to read? I don't think so, baby Einstein) and focus more on the idea that reading is a fluid skill that takes constant practice and refreshing to improve. There is no such thing as a "dumb" student and I won't have my kids think that way, especially not about themselves.

"EW EW EW EW EW"...was actually the note I wrote when Smokey and the Bandit referred Fifty Shades of Grey as part of the Amazon bestsellers. Disgusting. Although, it did serve the purpose of proving that 'adult readers' are not always 'sophisticated readers'. Seriously, though, I can't believe I just saw that horrifying trainwreck referenced in a textbook I admired. I trusted you two.

So, we teach our students better. We give them the stepping stones to learn so stuff like that doesn't end up on the bestseller list anymore. We give them more credit for what they chose to read and investigate.

Empathy and modeling come up again! Once (and by once I mean "actually an hour ago") I joked about being the "Ian Malcolm of history teachers" but cynicism and bitterness has never actually been my thing. So when Smokey and the Bandit say that we need to engage our kids and that we need to connect with them--model strategies, foster reading communities in the classroom--I believe them and agree with them wholeheartedly. No one wants to be the hum-drum teacher who lectures for fifty minutes and then sends students packing. Why would you want to be?  It can't be any fun, and you're doing a disservice to your students--both those who want to learn and those who need just a little more push. But with empathy and positivity. I think the task of engaging students becomes much easier! So I will not be the Ian Malcolm of History. (Well. Maybe a little. Eccentricity has to count for something).

One final note--I do my very best to stay on the optimistic side of things (that's part of the reason why I'd never make a good Ian Malcolm), but reading over this chapter and really getting the idea that you are responsible for the futures of scores of kids...this is daunting stuff. And I am, quite honestly, nervous. Really, really nervous. Can I do it, day in and day out? Can I fight for my kids when no one else will, find the strength in them that they can't find themselves? Will I be the teacher I want to be? It's easy to sit here and type the words "I can do this", but reality is a harsh mistress...

At any rate, the least I can offer my kids is my best, and hope that it works.

All right, emotional spiel out of the way. Let's end this on a positive note.

It's Alexander HAMilton. Get it? GET IT?

Also, someone buy me this mug:

I need it. For eccentric teacher reasons. 

Smokey and the Bandit 11: The Eyeteeth of the Tiger

Eyeteeth: noun, pl.: "To give something  one considers very precious, usually in exchange for an object or situation one desires".

Look at that, Smokey and the Bandit are making me use reading strategies in my reading--in this case, context clues and looking up the definition. Clever authors. 

Finally! For a while now I've been wondering when we would address the issue of our struggling readers. How do we get those frustrated readers on board with what we're teaching? This is an especially critical issue, given that lot of us teachers never had trouble with reading and writing in school--for a lot of us, I'm sure, reading was a matter of 'clicking', not clunking along. We can empathize with our students a lot of fronts, but there is a definite disconnect between teachers and students when it comes to reading.

When teachers say "I'm a physics teacher, not a reading teacher!" they fail to realize that they are, in fact, both! True, the English teachers may have the bulk of the task when it comes to fostering reading skills, but teachers in any content area have failed if they haven't helped students develop a literacy in their content area. It's part of a teacher's job to help students learn to read--books from the English canon, historical documents, scientific articles, mathematics word problems-- and to opt out by saying "well, that's not my area" is at once very very lazy and very very cowardly.

A number of bits from this chapter stood out to me. First and foremost was to keep a positive tone! If you want to alienate your students and make them dread coming to class, not smiling until December is a good way to do it. If you want to establish a sense of trust and empathy, especially for those struggling students, patience and empathy are the best ways to do so. Students can't learn if they don't receive support and guidance from a teacher. So, put your students at ease: ask them about their day. Make jokes, pay each student a little personal attention. It make take a few minutes away from classtime, but the end results are well worth it.  

I really think spicing up the classroom materials is a vital component of teaching. No one is going to enjoy the class if it's nothing but nonstop reading--as college students, we can do it, but high schoolers don't have the skills or stamina to do what we can. They simply haven't developed those skills to be a critical reader yet, and we can't force their noses to the grindstone--well, we could, but no one would benefit from it.

Struggling readers benefit from different materials--videos, tapes, even songs!--as it helps them connect their stronger visual or auditory skills to their reading skills. Changing up the materials benefits the stronger readers too--I love to read and I devour most historical texts, but there's no way I'd be able to remember the order of the presidents without a little help from Yacko, Wacko, and Dot:

Is it silly? Yes. Does it gloss over a lot of important facts? Yes. But it serves as a neat little introduction, and its certainly more entertaining than being presented with a list of names of dead white men. (And if you're wondering, yes, I still sing this under my breath if I have to remember where a specific president is in line--1850, nifty, Millard Fillmore's in!/Then young and fierce came Franklin Pierce, the man without a chin!)

Without critical reading skills, "...teenagers mindlessly search for answers mechanically, rather than really thinking about what they are reading" (286)--- and that's why I will do whatever it takes to help my students become strong readers. History scholars know better than anyone how easy it is to manipulate a population that doesn't think for itself, that won't or can't search for answers aside from the ones they are spoon-fed. There is a danger inherent in not being able to question what you read, to make inferences about the world around you, to letting someone else give you an answer rather than searching for answers yourself. If we let our students fail, we aren't just failing them--we're failing the future.

And on that grim note, I have one more video for the road:

Through meticulous analysis of history/I will find a way to make the people worship me!

Smokey and the Bandit: 9&10 or "Back in My Day, Television Was Called Books!"

Reading Chapter 10 immediately brought this old image to mind:

Sure, we non-math people laugh and exchange smug glances while the math people fume silently, which is always fun, but there's a core issue here of lacking real-world connections. We have to be ready for the inevitable hand-raising and the "Teacher! When are we gonna use this in real life?" and if we don't give the students satisfactory answers we get smug responses such as the one above. Of course, we can't expect our students to take "you'll use it, trust me", on pure faith alone...which is why I really liked Chapter 10!

Inquiries not only give students those desperately-needed real-life connections (there's nothing more saddening and real than trying to plan a budget), they give the students some flexible in their learning too. Inquiries also harken back to UbD--looking at those big ideas and big questions--only this time, it's the students deciding what makes a 'big' idea. I can get behind inquiries!

The only real question I had about Chapters 9&10 were what to do about shy/anxious/struggling readers, but upon flipping to Chapter 11, it looks like my question will be answered for me.

There's not much I can say regarding Chapter 9 except that I really want one in my own classroom now.

"The student playing the president's aide immediately improvised mixing cocktails, and all three clinked imaginary glasses in a comic tableau of old-boyism" (250).

I love it when students have a sense of humor about things.

I also like that Smokey and the Bandit continue to stress how important it is model behavior, by, well, modelling it for us. In this case, book clubs! The authors don't just tell you "yes, book clubs good", they show you how to model the behavior of the book club, how to divvy up tasks and monitor students, and how to get them engaged in their text without spoonfeeding them the answers. And that's something I really appreciate.

BOOKS.

Smoky and the Bandit: 5&8

In honor of a lengthy and descriptive chapter on note-taking and reading strategies, I would like to introduce you to the worst note-taker in the world:

Me.

'Tis true, although I accept the title of World's Worst Note-taker humbly. My notebook is a teacher's worst nightmare--full of half-finished doodles and random asides, ALL CAPS yelling and colorful language. While it makes sense to me--I know what I mean when I say "Nero did a graceful acrobatic flip off the deep end"--it's totally incomprehensible to anyone else. While this method-that's-not-really-a-method works for me because I've used it for so long and it's what I'm most comfortable with, I don't want my students to follow my example. I was never taught how to "take notes" in school, and as such I don't take cohesive notes. Good note-taking strategies and reading skills are something I feel is vital to impart onto students, if only because I know that referring to Nero "Neckbeard Rockstar" constantly in your notes is not a wise practice.

Exhibit A: ♫ What do you do with an Emperor like Tiberius ♫ followed shortly by ALL CAPS excitement over a dead man. (Actually the cleanest page in my notes)

There were a number of reading strategies introduced in quick succession in Chapter 5, so I've made note of my personal favorites/the one that stood out to me the most. In addition, I'd like to note that we as teachers must "Model, model, model. Keep modelling, even when you're sick of modelling". (92). Even if we don't enjoy taking notes the more traditional way (see Exhibit A), if we don't give our students at least options we're doing them a disservice.

Coding/Annotating: Probably my favorite method of actually note-taking, and certainly not because I get to doodle officially. I find that coding gives you a sense of what to look for, and annotating allows you to become more critical and combative within the text--you're always looking for main ideas, connections, and conflicting ideas.

Frontloading with images: History texts are dry. I'll admit this right out. As a history major, there are just some texts that are just so bone-dry it drives me to tears, so image how bored my kids are going to feel. In order to really understand succeed in history, I firmly believe one needs an empathetic connection with history's major players and their struggles. It can be as simple as putting a face to a name, or providing images of slave markets before reading an excerpt from The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, a slave autobiography. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, and nowhere is this more true than in history. 

Prereading quiz/discussion: Perhaps not a quiz as Smokey and Zemelman suggest (we don't want to scare the kids), but I think a pre-reading discussion or debate about 'big ideas' the text will introduce will get the students going, and they'll have their own opinions as well as that of their classmates in mind as they read.

Think-pair-share: I've always found this effective. Share what you've learned with a classmate, and then out to the class. Shy students are more likely to share after receiving some private validation--I know I was. (Yes! I was the shy one! Shocking, isn't it?)

Tweet the Text: "Kids are texting anyway"--all right, that made me laugh. Humor aside, when teachers incorporate modern technology into lessons the students perk right up, especially if it allows them to get creative. I still remember how much fun I had making a Facebook profile for Frankenstein's Monster in 12th grade English!

Clustering and Mapping: Excellent for those post-reading "big ideas". History has a lot of big ideas, most of them intersecting. It's good for visual learners, and as a reminder to other students too.

Chapter 8 was marginally less extensive than Chapter 5 (marginally), so I'll be quick with this. Suffice to say that I'm relieved that Smokey and the Bandit take independent reading seriously--I always treasured independent reading time in high school, because it was so rare and so precious. However, during my observations from 406, the class I observed did set aside time for independent reading, so it's nice to see it creeping back into classrooms, slowly but surely.

On more thing. Smokey and the Bandit mention one-on-one conferences as a good way to keep tabs on students, but I think that it helps establish an empathetic bond too. Students like it when you show interest in their interests, and ask them questions about it!

D&Z: 6 and 7

Random aside before we began, please tell me I'm not the only one who automatically finishes the authors' names as "Smokey and the Bandit" and not "Smokey and Zemelman".

All right, back to work.

I really, really enjoyed Chapter 6. We spend so much time agonizing over the 'right' textbook, but what do we do with it once we have it? Now that's a question that needs answering. D&Z don't give any 'concrete' answers to the question, and they acknowledge that different teachers have different extenuating circumstances. Probably my favorite thing about this chapter was the exploration of different textbook options, and how a textbook can be divvied up depending on how the teacher makes use of it--divide it into smaller readings? Make reading a community task? Focus on the vocabulary? Jigsaw it? They're all valid options, and as I was reading I was imaging myself in my own classroom, putting the different activities to work (in my head, of course, all my students were eager learners...but that's a discussion for further down).

There's also the option of not using the textbook at all, as Jeff James did. Although, I have to wonder how he got away with, and what he'll do if new regulations force the textbook on him. In addition, every writer has their own biases--does James have someone editing his notes for him? Perhaps it doesn't seem all that necessary in a more objective field like science or math, but if you were to try something like this in history, you would have to be very careful about what information you are imparting onto your students. I, for one, would not be very kind to Thomas Jefferson.

In addition, getting your hands on a 'better' textbook isn't as easy as Smokey and the Bandit are making it out to be. I know that the main idea of that section was to be selective and attentive to what textbooks you're using, but Smokey and the Bandit make it sound like you can waltz into your classroom with 30+ copies of new textbooks at the ready.

Regarding Chapter 7...

"In schools where teachers explicitly taught social skills of small-group interaction...the students gained an average of 11 percent on both their course grades and the high-stakes standardized tests given in their state..." In other news, water is wet!

I know I shouldn't be so disparaging, and it's nice to have factual confirmation, but I think every middle-, high-school, and college student could have told you that for free. It's something I experienced first-hand at both the secondary and college level of schooling...teachers who empathize with their students, who make their classrooms safe environments and who share their own learning experiences with students, were always the teachers who had the most engaged students, and when students are engaged, they're more eager to learn.

You'd think it'd be a matter of common sense, but then again, perhaps sense isn't all that common.

Strong Chapter 6: The Craft of CRAFT

Ah, Strong. Now there is a man after my own heart. An extended Star Wars reference coupled with practical classroom techniques? And they say all the good men are taken.

Joking aside, I really enjoyed Strong Chapter 6. A lot of complaining you'll here about history classes is the amount of dull work you have to slog through for a grade--I've done my fair share of complaining about history classes too, and now I'm the teacher! I don't want my students to look at an essay prompt the same way I've sometimes looked at essay prompts. Students should know that schoolwork is not inherently the enemy here. Busywork is. And the best way to avoid busywork is by crafting authentic assessments--assessments that allow your students to stretch their critical thinking skills and show them that, yes, you can use this outside of school.

After looking over Strong's examples and reading Cassie's blog (go check out the CRAFTs she made! So cool!), I decided to try for one of my own. Since I blogged so enthusiastically about the Roman Empire in my last entry, let's just keep rolling with the theme:

                                                             Dynamic Dynastic Rule

Context: Gaius Caesar (otherwise known as Caligula) and his sole heir have just been assassinated by the Praetorian Guard. Rome is leaderless, the Praetorians are calling Claudius Emperor, and no one is quite sure whether or not Caligula is actually dead. To keep Rome from anarchy, it's up to you, a humble Senator, to decide whether or not to elect Claudius as Emperor. You can either argue for Claudius or against him, using classroom discussions and textbook reading as evidence for your appeal. Are the Julio-Claudians really the best suited to rule Rome?
Role: You are a Roman senator on the floor of the Senate, about to speak to your colleagues concerning the assassination of Gaius Caesar and the ascension of his uncle Claudius to the throne.
Audience: The Roman Senate
Format: Oral speech
Topic: The unusual means of ascension in the Roman Empire, and whether or not the Julio-Claudian line of emperors can be considered a proper 'dynasty', since not one of the five emperors was a direct descendant of his predecessor. Prepare an oral speech outlining the pros and cons of having a dynastic family rule, and whether or not you would support Claudius on the throne.

This assignment is meant to have students think critically about different systems of government (monarchical, dynastic, democratic, despotic, etc), and how hard it is to change a government system once it becomes deeply entrenched. It also asks them to pick a side and argue it effectively and thoroughly using evidence, a skill history emphasizes usually through essays, as well as improve public speaking skills.

I'll need to construct a rubric, but what do you guys think? Does it fit the CRAFT model, or does it need work? Is it something you'd enjoy doing as a student (be honest!)?

To be honest, I'm a little disappointed that assignments like these don't show up very often in college classrooms either. Reading over the different examples of CRAFT Strong has collected, I got incredibly excited and intrigued about some of the prompts. "A potato chip's journey through the digestive system" sounds much more fun and engaging than "here is your digestive system". Plus, the best learning comes through doing, and I've always found that when I can put information to good use I better retain it.

I have to wonder, though, to what extent should we use these classroom CRAFTs? I think that they'd be excellent if used in moderation, but using assignments like these for every grade might be pushing it. Perhaps a healthy mixture of traditional essay assignments and CRAFT assignments would be best, and better expose students to the idea that there's more than one way to skin a cat (metaphorically!).

DZ 3/4: The Weight of the World (History Textbook) On Your Shoulders

"...if you drop one, it weighs enough to break your foot". (45). Are Smokey and Zemelman talking about bricks? No. They're talking about textbooks, and as I read through Chapters 3 and 4 my right shoulder began to ache, phantom pains from high school days lugging textbooks from class to class coming back to haunt me. I had experienced all-too-well the phenomenon Smokey and Zemelman spoke of, and to this day my right shoulder burns if I carry too heavy a load for too long a time. (And they say high school won't be the death of you, ha!).

The troubles with textbooks--superficial, overcrammed, out-dated, and hard to read--are precisely the reason why I distrust school textbooks. Perhaps I should clarify that statement: I don't mind textbooks themselves as encyclopedias, pillars from which a teacher can support their lesson. Textbooks, especially history textbooks, work wonderfully as quick references from which you can glean certain amounts of information. I have very fond memories of "Bailey", my APUSH textbook, because my APUSH teacher never allowed it to teach for her--it was a resource, as much as the Powerpoint slides or the primary documents. It was something to be checked regularly, but it never dictated the classroom environment. It's when textbooks (and especially history textbooks) become the focus of a class that I begin to deeply distrust them. Too many times I've seen perfectly good history classes gone to waste because the professor would rather let the text teach us. It's a lazy cop-out to say "read this chapter and answer the questions at the end" and then go over the text the next day.

It also deprives students of being involved in their learning. During my FNED volunteering, I was assigned to a sixth grade classroom. They were studying the classic world--Ancient Egypt, India, Greece, Rome, all the fun stuff. Great! I thought. This is really interesting stuff! They're gonna learn a lot, and I'm here to help them!

The teacher himself was great, and the lessons he designed distanced the students from depending on the textbook to learn (it was also a matter of necessity, as this class had to share about thirty textbooks between four classes). He tried to go as hands-on with them as he could, getting them involved in their learning--i.e., dividing the classroom into different groups and given certain groups privileges to show how the Indian caste system worked. The kids loved stuff like this, and one of my favorite memories from FNED was the day teacher was absent. He'd assigned reading from the textbook, and once the kids were finished they started getting rowdy. While the substitute teacher handled one group, I took aside the rest and asked them about what they read. Collectively they shrugged.

"Whaaaat?" I spluttered. "It's the Roman Empire! It's so interesting!"

"It's boring." One kid moaned. He was twelve seconds away from shoving the textbook off his desk and mentally clocking out. We still had ten minutes of class, and I knew I had to salvage the reputation of Ancient Rome somehow.

"Oh yeah?" I scoffed. "What about the emperor who made his horse a senator? He waged a war on the sea and declared himself a god, y'know!"

Bingo. I had their attention, and spent the rest of the remaining time (about ten minutes or so), eagerly outlining the crazy exploits of the first five Roman Emperors. The students were enthralled. They were eager to learn. They asked questions. They wanted to know more. It was one of the best moments in my fledgling teacher career thus far, because I got the history away from the textbook and made it come to life. (Gaius Caligula: the fastest way to prove to anyone that ancient history is amazing and ridiculous and amazingly ridiculous).

The point of this rather long diatribe is to prove that Smokey and Daniels are right: textbooks alone cannot a student make. They need more. They crave more. If you can grab their attention at the start, a lot of the slogging and fighting you'd have to do is out of the way. They'll go out of their way to find the information that interests them. And textbooks? Just not that interesting.

I think, as a history teacher, I have more available options for a classroom library than anyone else. There's just so many options out there--magazines, newspaper clippings, biographies, historical fiction, primary documents, whole websites devoted to history! One of my absolute favorites is Kate Beaton's Hark! A Vagrant, where she mixes humor, history, and comics (she does literature too!). Keeping a classroom library well-stocked and well-rounded will ease the dullness of the textbook, and help make history more palpable.

(Oh those crazy Romans)

UbD Reading: The Creeping Sense of Deja Vu

When reading the Understanding by Design section and its modules, I was struck by the sense of deja vu--I couldn't help but to feel like I've seen this before, and I started getting annoyed with the reading. I had to set aside the reading to sort out what I was feeling. Where had I seen this before? Starting at the end goal and making your strategy from there? Wait a minute--that's what writers do all the time! Little-known and slightly personal fact about me: I love writing stories, and over the course of the years I've learned (oftentimes the hard way) that any story starts with an end goal. You have your ending, good--now work back to it. Plan how you're going to get there. It's not easy, and sometimes it's frustrating because you want to skip right to that juicy ending, but all the work in the beginning and the middle makes the ending payoff so much the better. That being said, I looked over the reading again and scoffed. "This is common sense!" I said to myself, all smugness and eye-rolling. "You shouldn't just dive into your lessons--you need a concrete goal to work towards! Identify and then plan! What a bunch of hacks! Are they getting paid for this?".

What I didn't understand until well into Module F was that it hit me that I wasn't understanding what they meant by understanding and creating enduring knowledge. And now the egg was on my face. Good broad questions don't have a correct answer. Good broad questions are in-depth queries into a subject that can be debated and examined and reexamined. Good broad concepts lead to more active thinking from students, which leads to a better understanding of the material, which leads to enduring skills and knowledge. As I read over page 76, the lightbulb flicked on in my head and I said "Oh. Oooh. Oh. I see." The point of Backwards Design is not just to set up an end goal and then work within given parameters to that end goal. The point of Backwards Design is to challenge thinking and encourage critical analysis instead of spoon-feeding students answers.

My favorite thing about this reading, aside from the idea that we can shake up the questions we're asking to make them more in-depth, is the idea of "transferable" concepts. Concepts that transcend subject matter, that are universally applicable--concepts like humanity and morality--are some of my favorites concepts. They can be a great way to unite teachers across disciplines and unify those 'big concepts'.

D&Z Chapters 1&2: Reading and the Historical Narrative

Before we dive into the real meat-and-potatoes of this chapter, I'd first like to point how much I like the style Daniels and Zemelman use: it's breezy, it's approachable, and it made for a much more interesting read than Wilhelm. Considering that they are writing about reading strategies, I really appreciate how accessible they strove to make their work--meta-cognitive theories can be difficult to both explain and comprehend, so I appreciate the work that went to making this read enjoyable.

Onto the reading itself. When taking notes on the chapter, I excitedly made a note about page 10, and with a "YEAH!" of agreement. "Yes, there are a lot of obstacles to young people falling in love with math, science, history, language, and the arts. But that doesn't mean that our idealism is sentimental and misplaced..." (D&Z 11). I read and reread that line several times, with more and more mounting relief. As an aspiring teacher you hear a lot about the "real world" and how our careers won't be a remake Freedom Writers. Of course that's true, but at the same time you can't expect us to go into the classroom already dreading our students--it's not fair to them or to us! I've always believed that optimism tempered with realism is the best route to take, and it was nice to see that sentiment echoed. You can't win them all, but there's nothing to stop you from trying. 

  

The second chapter dealt a lot with reading and reading strategies, all of which I found fascinating--you never really think about how you're reading until it's brought to your attention! But the thing I loved most about these chapters was how history in particular was addressed. History is a text-heavy subject that requires both the analytic skills of English and the data-collecting skills of science--just look at the Common Core Standards for History on page 16! To be literate in history you have to combine qualitative sources with quantitative data, and that's no mean feat even for us history buffs. As a teacher, I'll have to help my students learn how to understand the who and the why and the when and the how--and the CCS make that goal seem so dry and clinical. History, as D&Z note, is a much a narrative as it is a science. 

It's the idea of history as a narrative that has always made history so much more fascinating, and what's excited me the most about learning and teaching history. It becomes so much more interesting and accessible as a living narrative, rather than a dead series of documents. Don't believe me? Check out this trailer for the History channel mini-series, Mankind: The Story of All of Us. 

If I can catch just a bit of the pulse-pounding awe a mini-series like the Mankind: The Story of All of Us inspires, then I may have just awoken a passion for history in my students. I love this trailer because it really brings history to life--it presents history not as a series of big isolated events, but as exactly what it is: an ever-expanding narrative of miracles and disasters and heroes and villains, the kind of story you can get emotionally invested in. I want my students to be able to read history not as a series of facts and dates and names, but as a narrative. They shouldn't only be critical thinkers--but imaginative thinkers too!

p.s. Don't eat at McDonald's.

Wilhelm Reading 1 and 2

While admittedly reading Wilhelm took several times (there were times I had to reread a sentence to process what he was arguing), I nevertheless found his insight extremely valuable. Wilhelm poses questions and theories that one might think are simply common sense, but many teachers never even consider them: What are you doing? How are you doing it? Are your students learning how to do things or simply learning for the sake of a grade? Teaching, Wilhelm proposes, is a science as well as an art, one that requires constant self-reflection and study. A teacher must be "wide-awake"--constantly self-assessing, constantly adapting to the student body they're facing. When it comes to teaching, one sizes does not fit all. 

Of course, it's all well and good to propose adaptive teaching, but what does that really mean? What is the relationship between teaching and learning? Is there one concrete way of "learning"? Wilhelm addressed this question with an exercise I found to be extremely intriguing. When presented with six different scenarios of "learning", which ones best fit the models of what it means to "learn"? Is it enough to know the concepts? Can you claimed to have learned something even if you don't understand why you're learning it? What qualifies as mastery over a subject? Wilhelm raises powerful questions over the issues of learning, engagement, and teacher-student relationships. As a future teachers, we have to ask ourselves not only what we will teach our students, but what they will learn from us. 

Wilhelm then dives to Vygotsky's sociocultural methods of development, something I had studied in the previous semester. However, Wilhelm brings up points of Vygotsky I had not considered: that in addition to cognitive zones of proximal development, but "social, emotional, and moral zones of development" (21) as well. As I read, I found myself wondering what I will pass on to my students, not only cognitively but morally and emotionally as well. What will they learn from me, either actively or subconsciously? When I think of myself as a teacher in a classroom, I model myself after the teachers I felt closest too in school, and there will come a day when I might be a model for a young student. Now I have to figure out what sort of model I want to be. 

Chapter 2 focuses largely on the issue of reading, theories of reading, and teaching reading to students. As a history teacher, I will have to engage myself with older texts that many of them will probably not be able to decode without help, a task that I have been wondering for some time now how I will accomplish. How do I engage reluctant readers, especially at a high school level where many of them have already given up on their own literacy? "The problem," Wilhelm writes, "is that there are very few resources to help teachers understand the demands of particular kinds of texts or genres" (46). He then examines the "Inquiry Square": the crosspoints between procedural and declarative knowledge. By asking ourselves and our students what the text is saying as well as what the point of the text is, we are all becoming more critically engaged. In my own experiences, having to clarify and defend a point over and over again leads to my examination and digger deeper into my own points of view. 

One argument that resonates strongly with me is Wilhelm's charge that much of American schoolwork is mindless tedium. YES! I thought, that's exactly it! I found myself remembering those classes I took in high school that consisted of nothing but busy work--students working silently on worksheets while the teacher sat at the desk--where I took away nothing from the class save how much I hated worksheets. The same occurred to me as I was doing observations: as it was the day before a three-day weekend, the teacher handed out worksheets to his students and then sat at his desk, never mind that there were students who put their head on their desk and refused to do the work. Frankly, I don't blame them. What's the use in doing work if even the teacher, who is supposed to guide and direct these students, shows no interest in their learning?

If even half of my teachers had employed some of the theories Wilhelm brings up, I might have had an easier time in high school. Teachers need to be able to teach students not only their content areas, but"real everyday activities that have purpose and meaning" (20). Teachers who respond to the student environment around, teachers who are passionate and self-assessing, teachers who encourage their students to be critical thinkers...those are the teachers who make the difference, and those are the teachers I want to model myself after.

Get Good

FPS. RPG. JRPG. Point-and-click. To the uninitiated, it might seem as though I was speaking an entirely in code. But to gamers, the words are as comprehendible as “Hop on Pop”. The idea that such a thing as ‘video game literacy’ might seem bizarre, but a heightened video game literacy can make one a more critical thinker, and instill valuable lessons in a longtime gamer.

I’ve always had a life-long love of video games. I can’t really say where it started, except that growing up I was surrounded by the advertisements for the Nintendo Gameboy Advance and the Advanced SP, the Playstation 2, the Xbox, and all the games those systems supported. I had older brothers and cousins who let me sit beside them as they plowed through zombie hoards and a younger brother whose GameInformer magazines I would smuggle into my room, flipping through reviews and developer interviewers. My very first video game was Yoshi’s Island, and after that the floodgates opened: Mario, Crash Bandicoot, Pokemon, the Legend of Zelda all permeated my youth. My game choices at the time were largely dictated by what my friends were playing, and the games themselves weren’t particularly challenging. They were fairly straightforward games with simply plotlines, rated ‘E’ for ‘everyone’. 

I enjoyed the carefree games of my childhood, but my tastes naturally changed over time. By high school I was seeking new challenges, with newer, darker games such as Skyrim, Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Red Dead Redemption, Team Fortress 2 and Bioshock. I began to pay attention to strategy (what was the best class to play?) and to storylines (what would happen if I sided with the Imperials over the Stormcloaks?), and to little details I had never bothered with before (what did it mean if my Pokemon had a Gentle nature?). It was no longer a matter of just playing games. Now I could take part in discussions of video games. Oftentimes my literacy increased through defeat: When my team lost a round of Mann vs. Machine or my entire Pokemon team was defeated, I found myself looking more critically at what I was doing. I asked myself how I could be better, and what my opponents had that I did not. I read. I studied. I practiced. Gradually, I improved.

Unfortunately, my increased video game literacy came at a literal price. Video games are expensive. The sort of expensive that meant new games wound in your hot little hands only around Christmas and your birthday. The sort of expensive that meant that a five-year-old game could still go for thirty dollars at the store, which is thirty more dollars than your average high school student had. That is where Let’s Plays come in. 

The concept of a Let’s Play is fairly simple: someone records themselves playing a game from start to finish. Some do it in silence. Others do it with commentary to help with tricks and hints. The large majority of Let’s Players, however, use their play-through to provide humorous commentary about the game or its mechanics.

My fascination with Let’s Plays took off with the Super Best Friends. The quartet of Matt, Pat, Woolie, and Liam captured my attention instantly: they were four average guys who provided hilarious commentary with in-depth insights into the care and detail that go into making good games. From their videos I moved on to their podcast, where the four discussed weekly video game news, shared anecdotes, and participated in heated debates. In fact, the first podcast of theirs I listened to featured an intense debate about censorship and violence in video games. Thanks in part to the Best Friends and their weekly news, my video game literacy has elevated from comprehension to critical analysis: issues like ethics in video games, corruption in the industry, and even some of the behind-the-scenes of making games are now something I pay attention to. I find myself analyzing new releases and upcoming titles, and being a more reserved judge with how I chose to spend my money.

Admittedly, the idea of ‘video game literacy’ doesn’t seem very impressive at first glance. Video games, after all, have a tendency to be stereotyped as mindless action and violence. But a surprising amount can be gained from playing video games. For one thing, persistence and patience pays. You may die the first hundred times you fight a boss, but that one hundred and one might be the time you get the upper hand. Attention to detail is another, since many games are loaded up with items and information that might not become useful until much later on. A third detail is accepting responsibility for your actions, something that comes up a lot in role-playing and text-adventure games, where a player’s choices have irreversible consequences on what happens in the game. Video games also teach the values of both independence and cooperation. Some games can only be completed by yourself, and so you must do the research on the game alone. Others you complete only through cooperative efforts, working as a team to accomplish a goal. Learning to work with different personality types and different strategies is a vital part of cooperative games.

 Patience, diligence, responsibility, cooperation. These lessons will help me in the classroom: there will be days when I will want to lose my temper, so I must remember patience. There will be days when I feel like I’m not making any headway with the content, so I have to be persistent. There will be days when I have to take responsibility as the teacher in the classroom, and I will have to work with my peers to accomplish a goal. It takes both time and dedication to be a gamer and to be a teacher, and becoming a professional at either takes even more time and patience. There is no miracle shortcut for becoming a teacher or a gamer. As some of my fellow gamers might say, you just have to “get good”.