Monday, October 10, 2016

Room 18 Grant

What Could we do with Room 18? It’s what we’re asking of Edgewood students and teachers. Take an empty classroom and contemplate the use of space. Remove the classic classroom structures and redesign the room to encourage contemporary thoughts on learning and teaching.

Room 18, which was formerly used as a classroom, has become our laboratory for experimental thinking on instructional redesign. The lead research team includes Marilyn Blackley (4th grade), Matthew Fitzpatrick (art), Lisa Forte (music), and Paul Tomizawa (technology). The team is supported by Dr. Scott Houseknecht and William Yang, along with other staff. Our goal, with the support of a Center for Innovation grant, is to use this space to springboard ideas that seek to re-envision existing classrooms and prompt thinking on how space impacts teaching and learning. Room 18 is an environment that will provide flexible learning spaces and materials to help us develop collaborative and problem solving skills. It’s where, through the principles of Design Thinking, we can research and tackle problems, whether they are located globally or in our own classrooms. It’s where teachers and students can imagine the potential inside their own classrooms.

Teachers are perpetually intrigued with reconfiguring their rooms, for the sake of igniting student activity, but the exercise of moving and removing pieces of furniture, often leaves teachers faced with the dread of eliminating the structures that support a longstanding curriculum. Our hope is that Room 18 becomes the antidote to that dread, providing a sandbox for redesigning classroom space and curriculum experiences, while better meeting the needs of today’s diverse learners. Our hope is that this space is where teachers and students will come to be inspired, using the tools and materials they will need to some day contemplate the question: “What could we do with our own classroom?”

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Rigor. The Good Kind

Kindergarteners problem solving
with Kodable.
When students are engaged in a deep-think activity, I notice the faces. Slightly scrunched with squinted, blinking eyes that signal disbelief as in "That doesn't make sense." But it's not a face that shows quit. It's a look that's about to roll up its sleeves and hunker down for serious mano a mano combat. For me, this is what rigor looks like in the classroom.

I see this expression in students of all elementary grades. Even in kindergarten as students absorb complex programming concepts through challenging activities in the Kodable app, they'll stop, stare, gaze in disbelief, but push forward to success, often with a little help from their friends and classmates.

These days rigor is considered a desired learning trait. A trendy question among parents and educators asks what rigor looks like in the classroom. It's initially a strange question to consider since the word is typically defined with words such as strictness, severity, harsh, unyielding, inflexible, and my favorite (not really) -- cruelty.

Perhaps, as parents and educators, we have come to manipulate the definition of rigor into something virtuous as a proactive response. We see a cruel world outside the protective nurturing biodomes of the home and classroom and we want children to be prepared for life's hardships, to have the savvy and Hamburger Hill-type grit to overcome the unexpected and enduring challenges in their lives. Or maybe we just want them to put down their Snapchat videos and mow the lawn. Anyone's lawn.

2nd Graders join forces.
When I see second graders, such as those in Ms. Martin's room, warming up their brains with Kodable programming challenges, coming together to share solutions, trying them each, and learning from their mistakes in Design Thinking manner, and ultimately exalting in a shared success, I'm reminded that the look of rigor does not have a standard definition. Yi Cheng and Julian say it best.

"It's fun. Is it easy? Not really. It's easy then it gets harder harder harder. We like challenges," assures Yi Cheng. "It works your brain," says Julian with the gratified look of someone's who's put in a hard day's work.
This is how you define rigor. The good kind.