In Junior English, my 33 students are in the middle of at least four major projects, plus all of the small-form threads that bind them together. They are working on an etymology project, eventually alongside Cheryl's students in California; this week, they made short videos on words that contained the root "tele." They are working on their BWP/20% project. They are reading Looking For Alaska and writing reading journals in a pretty dedicated way. Today, they started a photo essay project which requires them to take a single picture every hour for 24 hours (other than sleeping) and use those to narrate their typical day.
Add to that all of the video clips on brain science/learning we're watching and analyzing, journals we're writing, and discussions we're having, and it gets to be a lot. For them and for me.
I touched on this in an earlier post, but many times in my class, I know it feels like we're zooming from one big project to another, without a lot of connection. It even feels like that to me sometimes.
But I love watching the web we're weaving come together. I love watching student after student get hooked into what we're about in this class. Even when I feel incredibly scattered, and the students are in 3 different classrooms with colleagues who can monitor them, plus in the computer lab next door and in my room reading and recording and creating, I have to keep the endpoint in mind.
For a class that's driving at purely student-centered, there isn't really an Endpoint With A Capital E. There are things I want to talk about with them, with respect to the book. I want them to be able to read closely and analytically, and I want them to find something they love and pursue it and share that passion with everyone around them. The endpoint is I want you to know how to learn, both personally and academically.
I just have to remind myself sometimes that the road to that place isn't straight. It's twisted, it's bumpy, and it's chaotic. And even on the days when I feel like I'm juggling about five balls more than my skill level allows, I am still convinced it's worth it.
Add to that all of the video clips on brain science/learning we're watching and analyzing, journals we're writing, and discussions we're having, and it gets to be a lot. For them and for me.
I touched on this in an earlier post, but many times in my class, I know it feels like we're zooming from one big project to another, without a lot of connection. It even feels like that to me sometimes.
But I love watching the web we're weaving come together. I love watching student after student get hooked into what we're about in this class. Even when I feel incredibly scattered, and the students are in 3 different classrooms with colleagues who can monitor them, plus in the computer lab next door and in my room reading and recording and creating, I have to keep the endpoint in mind.
For a class that's driving at purely student-centered, there isn't really an Endpoint With A Capital E. There are things I want to talk about with them, with respect to the book. I want them to be able to read closely and analytically, and I want them to find something they love and pursue it and share that passion with everyone around them. The endpoint is I want you to know how to learn, both personally and academically.
I just have to remind myself sometimes that the road to that place isn't straight. It's twisted, it's bumpy, and it's chaotic. And even on the days when I feel like I'm juggling about five balls more than my skill level allows, I am still convinced it's worth it.
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