I've never been considered tall. Never grabbed top shelf grocery items with ease. Never bought pants that didn't need to be hemmed, jeans excluded. You get the idea. But there are times in the classroom when I have never felt so small and yet so tall at the same time as I did this past week.I had Mr. Gluck's fourth graders in the computer lab. It was our second session with Google Sketchup, a free 3D modeling program. In our introductory session, I showed them basic tools, then let them explore. Giving students basic skills, then time and opportunity to create, is essential to getting the most out of learners.
These kids launched themselves into the program and within minutes were roaring with delight and discovery. I could've closed my eyes, imagined their playful cheers, along with chirping birds, rustling trees, dogs barking, and we could've been in the park. But instead, we were in a classroom, as each student reveled in the discovery of new perspectives and abilities they didn't know they possessed. And most important, they eagerly shared what they learned with their neighbors. Welcome to the 21st Century classroom. Where young people explore, collaborate, and learn about new worlds and possibilities.
A quick scan at computer displays around the room revealed architectural marvels. Students created office buildings, libraries, Cape Cod styled homes with attached garages, structures buttressed with pillars, tall residential buildings in the middle of a park. In short, they found themselves in the architectural rendition of the Wonka Factory where anything is possible, if you dream it.
Mr. Gluck and I struck our "Mr. Clean" pose -- radiant and proud. This was good teaching. Now here's the part where I felt small. In the second session, I attempted to make the connection with this program and the fractions unit they were working on in their classroom. Their eyes darted from my projection screen to their computers as they fidgeted on their floor spots, patiently indulging my need to do whatever it was the teacher felt was important to do, to feel like he was being a teacher. And as I fumbled with the tools wondering why they weren't cooperating as well as they had on my laptop when I first created this lesson, I realized I needed more time to work out the kinks. So with Mr. Gluck's permission we sent the kids back to their computers to continue their projects. And the kids' reaction? I could have jacked Alice Cooper's School's Out over the speakers and you would've thought that summer had arrived.
So I had bought myself a few minutes to perfect my lesson. The extra time helped. Finally, I was ready with renewed confidence to resume my fractions lesson and demonstrate to kids the explicit connection between the Sketchup models they had created and what the textbook said they should be learning at this time of their lives. I turned to face them and announce that I was now ready to teach them. But when I got a closer look at what they had built and listened to the depth of their collaborative conversations, I turned to Mr. Gluck and confessed that my lesson seemed inappropriate considering the rate at which they were gobbling up and processing information. I realized that I was about to deliver the equivalent of a first grade math lesson, considering what they had already accomplished on their screens. I felt small, delivering a lesson that was inadequate to their needs. So we decided to punt.
We did regroup them briefly to discuss the architectural value in knowing fractions and having a sense of symmetry and balance. They seemed to understand, especially in looking at their work. Now here's the part where I started feeling tall. We gave these students basic skills, along with time and opportunity. And in turn they astonished us with their love of schoolwork and ingenuity. And it all started with faith in what motivated kids can accomplish.
We realized that at times Sketchup may not work seamlessly with our math curriculum. And it would need to be carefully massaged into any of the other curriculum areas. In fact, at Fox Meadow, fourth graders used it to build colonial homes. But to dismiss the value of any academic pursuit that generates so much enthusiasm and creative energy would be a mistake. Sometimes as teachers, we're so busy trying to check items off a bloated curriculum, we tend to overlook the needs of the children and ultimately the heart of every school district's credo: instill the love of learning.
Mr. Gluck's fourth graders will be back in the lab working on Sketchup. Maybe we'll plan an entire city. Is that in the curriculum? I don't think so.
It's good to feel tall.
