So, it's been a little while since my last post...and next has actually already occurred. After scouring books, seeking the wisdom of colleagues, and the internets...I found a short story for the boys and I to dig into after we finished Romeo and Juliet.
"One Good Turn" by Pensiri Kiengsiri looked at the dynamic of two men in Thailand who at first glance seem worlds apart due to economic status. I thought this would be a great "bridging story" because we'd looked at issues of gender by juxtaposing female/male roles when we read "Girl," and now I could infuse a bit of racial/economic tension by focusing on male protagonists. This unit was much shorter than the first (I think because I had a better sense of what I was doing) and the boys really responded well to the activities.
In an effort not to essentialize and tokenize the Thai perspective, we did a few activities that looked at history, tourism, and national identity. While it would have been easier to just "read the story," these pre-reading activities, in my opinion, provided a way for us (myself and the boys) to confront any potential stereotypes/ignorance out of the way and perhaps truly engage with the story with a bit more awareness. I found that the South Asian perspective was not one my boys had ever confronted...in their exploration of English lit or in History. It was important for me to offer this perspective...
I think back to my first inclination do actually do this project. I wanted to female authorship and perspective apart of the voices my boys and I interacted with as we learned the "stuff" of English literature and language.
Simultaneously we've been busily at work practicing grammar constructions...participial phrases, parallel constructions, and absolutes. And wow! I think I've finally figured out a way to truly make grammar learning fun, relevant, and tied to the actual review/writing of literature. "One Good Turn" provided a seamless way to review semi-colons (the grammar element attached to "Girl") and evaluate the role of participial phrases in context. One of the activities that the boys and I completed (as we constructed meaning from the story and our class discussions) were participial poems linked to a character, conflict or theme in "One Good Turn."
Again, I was taken aback by the nuances of masculinity the boys hinted at...how they assigned and perhaps resolved issues of racial/ethnic/economic insecurity between the characters and how the relate to their world at large. It was a very brief exercise, but the boys (fusing their knowledge of this grammar element with literary analysis) truly produced quality work. The cyclical nature of Rosenblatt's transactional theory was evident. There were several times when I had to stop class, just to grab the recorder. Activities that I hadn't planned on taping became rich of data...
It was awesome!
Beaming...
Protecting the AllSpark: Transforming English with the Boys
Here chronicled are one teacher's journey into research with a middle school English curriculum, boys', and the battle with the Decepticons that ensues...
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Reconsidering Next...
This week I've been preparing for the next short story unit (and data collection point) for the boys. This past summer, I'd settled on "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid, "Ghosts" by Edwidge Danticat, and "Ru" by Kim Thuy. At the time, and not knowing the boys I'd teach, these short stories seemed best suited for the aim of constructing meaning...through the stories themselves and as the boys interacted with them. Yet, as I've been reading (and re-reading) each of the stories, I'm uncertain if they are as well suited for the boys as I once imagined. One of the main reasons for this ambiguity was a telephone conversation with my advisor on Monday.
As we hashed out the next phases of data analysis and getting a jump on planning (I've been a little lax), she asked if the emerging themes I observed with "Girl" (ideals about masculinity, femininity, social pressure, and parents among others) would be transferable between the stories. She didn't phrase it like that, but what I took from her prompting me to think centered on fluidity, alignment, and a sense of building (like each story allowed the boys to build on, create new meanings out of, and interact with former constructions of meaning present in the previous story). I hope I'm making sense...
I looked back on my initial proposal for clarity. My initial aim was to, define curriculum (these short stories over the course of a school year) as text [centered on Louise Rosenblatt's transactional theory, a more universal application of the reader-response theory (1938)] because it "has special meaning, and more particularly, [...] submerged associations [of] words and images [that] for the reader will largely determine what the work communicates to him" (Rosenblatt qtd in Church, 1997). There was a reason I chose these stories. The School is a primarily an affluent and White community, I was interested in what types of meaning all boys in this context would assign to learning experiences (the short stories, the class discussions, homework, and other class activities) that were outside the periphery of this environment. One major voice, in my opinion, that was missing/silenced/ventriloquized/erased was the female voice. Instead of overhauling the entire 8th grade English curriculum, I decided (giving my teaching stance, which I'll go into later) to use the short story medium to open the door to my "sistren" so to speak.
Furthermore, my perspective and pedagogy are also informed by my ethnic/racial identity and not just my gender. Given this, weaving female authors of color (non-Western) into the mix of Steinbeck, Alexie, Orwell, Shakespeare, and Wiesel was purposeful. Yet, this conversation with my advisor has prompted me to reconsider these choices (also informed by students, not just me) as I plan the next unit.
Is this part of my own curricular transaction? As I interact with the texts produced by boys who've constructed particular meanings about boyhood, masculinity, and femaleness, I too am on what Rosenblatt terms a "reading journey." In a way, my transactions are multidimensional (spatially, aesthetically, and in efferent ways). I am simultaneously engaging with my memory of teaching/learning with "Girl," the boys' discussions (prior to, during, and after the story), my previous students' feedback about the types of texts they'd like to read (as that produced the impetus for doing this project), and the texts my current boys produced as they made sense of (meaning making through cultural production) the themes, and fact (we worked on using the semi-colon) all while trying to "write" and author a dynamic curriculum...the next phase in our collaborative "reading journey..."
Whew...I can't believe I was actually able to put that into words. In any event, I'm reconsidering next...
Signing off...
As we hashed out the next phases of data analysis and getting a jump on planning (I've been a little lax), she asked if the emerging themes I observed with "Girl" (ideals about masculinity, femininity, social pressure, and parents among others) would be transferable between the stories. She didn't phrase it like that, but what I took from her prompting me to think centered on fluidity, alignment, and a sense of building (like each story allowed the boys to build on, create new meanings out of, and interact with former constructions of meaning present in the previous story). I hope I'm making sense...
I looked back on my initial proposal for clarity. My initial aim was to, define curriculum (these short stories over the course of a school year) as text [centered on Louise Rosenblatt's transactional theory, a more universal application of the reader-response theory (1938)] because it "has special meaning, and more particularly, [...] submerged associations [of] words and images [that] for the reader will largely determine what the work communicates to him" (Rosenblatt qtd in Church, 1997). There was a reason I chose these stories. The School is a primarily an affluent and White community, I was interested in what types of meaning all boys in this context would assign to learning experiences (the short stories, the class discussions, homework, and other class activities) that were outside the periphery of this environment. One major voice, in my opinion, that was missing/silenced/ventriloquized/erased was the female voice. Instead of overhauling the entire 8th grade English curriculum, I decided (giving my teaching stance, which I'll go into later) to use the short story medium to open the door to my "sistren" so to speak.
Furthermore, my perspective and pedagogy are also informed by my ethnic/racial identity and not just my gender. Given this, weaving female authors of color (non-Western) into the mix of Steinbeck, Alexie, Orwell, Shakespeare, and Wiesel was purposeful. Yet, this conversation with my advisor has prompted me to reconsider these choices (also informed by students, not just me) as I plan the next unit.
Is this part of my own curricular transaction? As I interact with the texts produced by boys who've constructed particular meanings about boyhood, masculinity, and femaleness, I too am on what Rosenblatt terms a "reading journey." In a way, my transactions are multidimensional (spatially, aesthetically, and in efferent ways). I am simultaneously engaging with my memory of teaching/learning with "Girl," the boys' discussions (prior to, during, and after the story), my previous students' feedback about the types of texts they'd like to read (as that produced the impetus for doing this project), and the texts my current boys produced as they made sense of (meaning making through cultural production) the themes, and fact (we worked on using the semi-colon) all while trying to "write" and author a dynamic curriculum...the next phase in our collaborative "reading journey..."
Whew...I can't believe I was actually able to put that into words. In any event, I'm reconsidering next...
Signing off...
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Depth...
Whew! The marathon that has been Romeo and Juliet will come to a close this week. As a teacher (and student) during this unit, I feel like a world class runner at the end of the New York City Marathon. I am exhilarated, anxious, and above all...I have the beginnings of lactic acid buildup...I'm tired, but I'm pushing through to that glorious end.
For the better part of two months (minus an uncanny amount of snow days and/or snow delays, schedule mishaps, and interim breaks), the boys and I have dissected, performed, etched, and discussed all aspects of the play Romeo and Juliet. They've been engaged most of the time and their motivation to push through the grammar, the "funny sounding" English, and conversations about love has been heightened by producing documentaries, mocking Cupid (just in time for Valentine's Day), and continuously adding to an ever-growing list of Shakespeare's use of innuendo. Go figure...boys!
This time around, I am pleased with the depths my students and I were able to reach with this play. From character sketches and eavesdropping on lunch time conversations that start with "Give my long sword, ho!" many of my boys have found ways (jokingly or not) to incorporate Shakespeare's lexicon into their everyday lives. They've given Hallmark some competition when it comes to one liners about love (and yes, many were mature, endearing, and even prophetic). I didn't mean to "beat them over the head" with the Bard, but I've found that this year, in particular, paying attention to the cues of my students, as well as my own lethargy, has been vital to keeping the "spark" alive during this unit. Momentum, engagement and relevancy all play a vital role in implementing the day-to-day aspects of this unit.
I've never been in the business of "getting through." This unit reminds me that meaning making often requires sustained and in-depth time with a particular text. Teetering on the lines of "not enough" "just right" and "too much" can be acrobatic at times, but definitely worth it...especially for the circus I'm a part of :)
Signing off...
For the better part of two months (minus an uncanny amount of snow days and/or snow delays, schedule mishaps, and interim breaks), the boys and I have dissected, performed, etched, and discussed all aspects of the play Romeo and Juliet. They've been engaged most of the time and their motivation to push through the grammar, the "funny sounding" English, and conversations about love has been heightened by producing documentaries, mocking Cupid (just in time for Valentine's Day), and continuously adding to an ever-growing list of Shakespeare's use of innuendo. Go figure...boys!
This time around, I am pleased with the depths my students and I were able to reach with this play. From character sketches and eavesdropping on lunch time conversations that start with "Give my long sword, ho!" many of my boys have found ways (jokingly or not) to incorporate Shakespeare's lexicon into their everyday lives. They've given Hallmark some competition when it comes to one liners about love (and yes, many were mature, endearing, and even prophetic). I didn't mean to "beat them over the head" with the Bard, but I've found that this year, in particular, paying attention to the cues of my students, as well as my own lethargy, has been vital to keeping the "spark" alive during this unit. Momentum, engagement and relevancy all play a vital role in implementing the day-to-day aspects of this unit.
I've never been in the business of "getting through." This unit reminds me that meaning making often requires sustained and in-depth time with a particular text. Teetering on the lines of "not enough" "just right" and "too much" can be acrobatic at times, but definitely worth it...especially for the circus I'm a part of :)
Signing off...
Friday, February 4, 2011
"My Only Love Sprung from My Only Hate..."
In the midst of Romeo and Juliet...and they like it!
I'm pleased with their willingness to "endure" the language and see that Mr. Shakespeare actually has few thoughts about infatuation and love that can actually apply to the 21st century. It is quite endearing to hear the boys "chit chat" about their understandings and even joke around with each other using Elizabethan English. It's been fun. Particularly interesting, however, is the poor reception Laz Buhrman's cinematic version of the play has had. Overall, the boys think "it's doing too much." They like the modernity and the visuals, but in terms of effectiveness, it's been a mixed bag.
Either way I'm enjoying the discovery process with them.
** WLU Proposal ACCEPTED!!**
Beam me up Scotty!
I'm pleased with their willingness to "endure" the language and see that Mr. Shakespeare actually has few thoughts about infatuation and love that can actually apply to the 21st century. It is quite endearing to hear the boys "chit chat" about their understandings and even joke around with each other using Elizabethan English. It's been fun. Particularly interesting, however, is the poor reception Laz Buhrman's cinematic version of the play has had. Overall, the boys think "it's doing too much." They like the modernity and the visuals, but in terms of effectiveness, it's been a mixed bag.
Either way I'm enjoying the discovery process with them.
** WLU Proposal ACCEPTED!!**
Beam me up Scotty!
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Queen's English...
This year it seems that my boys have taken a keen interest in teasing out the nuances of the English language, particularly as we read Romeo and Juliet. Mixing film, photography, creative writing, and dramatic interpretations with our analysis of the text has proved to be a welcome change for me. While I innately enjoy Shakespeare, transferring my interest and understanding (no matter what grade level I teach) is always a unique challenge. Often my Shakespeare units are the most altered, refined, and re-imagined lessons.
In graduate school, I had the wonderfully nerdy opportunity to take a semester class all about the Bard. With a better understanding of his histories, tragedies, and comedies, my final project for the class was to create a unit with plays least likely to be taught in an American middle or high school. It was an interesting experiment and one that has recently resurfaced in my mind. Lately I've been thinking about "replacing" Romeo and Juliet in my eighth grade classes. I haven't figured out which play would offer as many "blush points" as Romeo and Juliet (how quickly young men of all shades are tickled pink), but I think it is important for students to have some exposure literature not as recognized.
Hmmm...we'll see.
In graduate school, I had the wonderfully nerdy opportunity to take a semester class all about the Bard. With a better understanding of his histories, tragedies, and comedies, my final project for the class was to create a unit with plays least likely to be taught in an American middle or high school. It was an interesting experiment and one that has recently resurfaced in my mind. Lately I've been thinking about "replacing" Romeo and Juliet in my eighth grade classes. I haven't figured out which play would offer as many "blush points" as Romeo and Juliet (how quickly young men of all shades are tickled pink), but I think it is important for students to have some exposure literature not as recognized.
Hmmm...we'll see.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
"I Remember it Later..."
This past week in an impromptu conversation with four students I had an epiphany...meaning making has a lot to do with memory (duh!).
The conversation started primarily because I was eavesdropping on my students (two I currently teach, two I will teach next school year) take part in the adolescent version of a b*tch session. For this particular group of boys, the lunch conversation seemed to focus primarily on specific teachers and their teaching (or non-teaching) styles. While it was amusing, at times, to hear how particular classes went from the students' point of views, I had to interject once the moaning, whining, and complaining became too much for me to hear...especially because they were referring to my colleagues.
I asked, rather nonchalantly, "Ok, then...what makes a good teacher?" "And how do you know you're actually learning something?"
For a minute or two, each stumbled through his explanation. From "We actually go over our homework," to "A good teacher shows us in interesting ways," to quips about personality traits and classroom environment, one of the young men that I was listening to matter-of-factly said, "I know when I'm learning because I remember it later." I was almost speechless...yep, that makes perfect sense simply enough.
My mind now racing and wanting to glean more from these very astute students before lunch ended, I then asked, "Ok, but how can a teacher do that during the class...you know make sure you remember it later?"
Immediately when I heard the question escape from my brain and out my mouth I thought, "Crap, that doesn't make any sense." Yet, each boy again tried his hand at answering (looking back I feel very glad they'd want to indulge me). This time their answers didn't vary as much. I don't remember the specifics...we were rushed for time as the end of lunch approached, but one thing was clear (well, actually two)...practicing an idea or concept that mattered to them was how they knew they were learning. One student told me how he realized math was sequential and that he "needed" to know the stuff now for later. One mentioned how interesting "things" (yea, I know a pet peeve of mine too) always caught his attention and made him want to know more.
Simple enough right? It wasn't until this morning that I realized what a profound conversation I'd had with these boys. The connection to Listening In was magnified in my head as I rehashed the conversation. They want us to include them in the process. It makes meaning making (getting "something out of it") tangible.
But how do we (teachers) actually do that?
Pondering...
The conversation started primarily because I was eavesdropping on my students (two I currently teach, two I will teach next school year) take part in the adolescent version of a b*tch session. For this particular group of boys, the lunch conversation seemed to focus primarily on specific teachers and their teaching (or non-teaching) styles. While it was amusing, at times, to hear how particular classes went from the students' point of views, I had to interject once the moaning, whining, and complaining became too much for me to hear...especially because they were referring to my colleagues.
I asked, rather nonchalantly, "Ok, then...what makes a good teacher?" "And how do you know you're actually learning something?"
For a minute or two, each stumbled through his explanation. From "We actually go over our homework," to "A good teacher shows us in interesting ways," to quips about personality traits and classroom environment, one of the young men that I was listening to matter-of-factly said, "I know when I'm learning because I remember it later." I was almost speechless...yep, that makes perfect sense simply enough.
My mind now racing and wanting to glean more from these very astute students before lunch ended, I then asked, "Ok, but how can a teacher do that during the class...you know make sure you remember it later?"
Immediately when I heard the question escape from my brain and out my mouth I thought, "Crap, that doesn't make any sense." Yet, each boy again tried his hand at answering (looking back I feel very glad they'd want to indulge me). This time their answers didn't vary as much. I don't remember the specifics...we were rushed for time as the end of lunch approached, but one thing was clear (well, actually two)...practicing an idea or concept that mattered to them was how they knew they were learning. One student told me how he realized math was sequential and that he "needed" to know the stuff now for later. One mentioned how interesting "things" (yea, I know a pet peeve of mine too) always caught his attention and made him want to know more.
Simple enough right? It wasn't until this morning that I realized what a profound conversation I'd had with these boys. The connection to Listening In was magnified in my head as I rehashed the conversation. They want us to include them in the process. It makes meaning making (getting "something out of it") tangible.
But how do we (teachers) actually do that?
Pondering...
Monday, January 3, 2011
It's A Love Story...
Ahhh...the winter break return :) I must say, I'm feeling quite rested, refreshed, and ready to begin one of my all time favs, Romeo and Juliet. It is definitely interesting exploring adolescent love with an all boys crowd; a mix of coy blushing and laugh out loud hilarity.
This year, we're going to do True Life documentaries (something like We're in Love, but Our Parents Hate Each Other) as we recite, perform and analyze the nuances of The Bard. Most students (and parents for that matter) fail to realize how vulgar Shakespeare really was...particularly intriguing given many censorship debates in the new millenium as students and their teachers read things like The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian (we will @ The School this year), the Twilight saga, Harry Potter and others. People are so quick to say "No," and then try to use traditional wisdom to justify their bias...
Go ahead and say "Kids should be reading Shakespeare [or Twain, or the Brontes]". Give me any cannonical author and I'll reveal the same sex-crazed, utterly insane, narcissistic, recreant that typifies most writers ;)
In prime fashion...I'm out
This year, we're going to do True Life documentaries (something like We're in Love, but Our Parents Hate Each Other) as we recite, perform and analyze the nuances of The Bard. Most students (and parents for that matter) fail to realize how vulgar Shakespeare really was...particularly intriguing given many censorship debates in the new millenium as students and their teachers read things like The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian (we will @ The School this year), the Twilight saga, Harry Potter and others. People are so quick to say "No," and then try to use traditional wisdom to justify their bias...
Go ahead and say "Kids should be reading Shakespeare [or Twain, or the Brontes]". Give me any cannonical author and I'll reveal the same sex-crazed, utterly insane, narcissistic, recreant that typifies most writers ;)
In prime fashion...I'm out
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