Driven to Learn

Mrs. C stumbled upon Daniel Pink's Drive and got all excited. "The Montessori community needs to know about this!" She immediately e-mailed Trevor Eissler, author of Montessori Madness: A Parent to Parent Argument for Montessori Education, to suggest that he include Pink's ideas in his next book. ‘Yeah, isn't he great? He's one of the keynote speakers at this year's America Montessori Society conference.’ Apparently Mrs. C was not the first to notice the relationship between Pink's ideas and Montessori education.

Pink points to research demonstrating that extrinsic motivators (rewards and punishments) work well for rote, routine tasks. But they are ineffective motivators for outside-the-box (or even repurposing-the-box), creative problem-solving. He states, "Traditional notions of management work great if you want compliance. But if you want engagement, self-direction works better." Pink identifies three components for fostering intrinsic motivation: autonomy, mastery, and purpose.

Now, this is a business book about motivation in the workplace, but the same applies to motivation in the classroom--and Dr. Maria Montessori understood this well. In Montessori classrooms, we offer learners autonomy, respect, freedom (within limits), and choice. We emphasize individual responsibility and working toward mastery of concepts. We don't pass out stickers or grades or award certificates. No carrots. No sticks. Instead, we work to cultivate intrinsic motivation, turning the focus to learning--for the joy and enrichment of learning. Montessori wrote, "The secret of good teaching is to regard the children’s intelligence as a fertile field in which seed may be sown, to grow under the heat of flaming imagination. Our aim therefore is not merely to make the children understand, and still less to force them to memorize, but so to touch their imagination as to enthuse them to their inmost core. We do not want complacent pupils, but eager ones" (To Educate the Human Potential). I look forward to hearing Pink's talk at the conference!

Last night, a friend was telling me about a TED talk he'd heard recently. Ooo . . . I bet Daniel Pink's done a TED talk! Sure enough. Only 18 minutes long--enjoy!



Interesting implications for increasingly prevalent performance pay and punitive test-related firing policies, no? Feeling motivated yet? Neither of these misguided policies is what drives me to do better with and for children. But feeling respected and valued as a creative and thoughtful professional by decision-makers would go a long way toward motivating me to go the extra mile for the learners with whom I'm charged.

Bibbity Bobbity Boo!

Beans "'ll do magic, believe it or not."





I know I’m mixing metaphors here, but it's amazing when odd bits of two-dimensional nothing transform themselves into something.









The pipecleaners and felt were just lying around in “the back” of our classroom, waiting for their day to shine. As previously confessed, the opaque green tights were artifacts of a tackier wardrobe era. (It is quite possible they were once worn under acid-wash denim shorts.) Mrs. D again proved worthy as Mistress of Procurement by conjuring a Jack hat! It did not escape the children (not much does!) that Ms. Frizzle loaned her shoes for the cause. When I went over to borrow them, I could see the wheels turning as she eyed my beanstalk . . .

This project was not the “quick” assembly I envisioned. Somehow, in my hands, these things rarely are. “Boy, you’re spending a lot of time on this,” commented one innocent bystander. Yes, that’s who I am. Far too much time was spent communing with the glue gun, thoughtfully positioning and attaching individually-cut felt beans and pipecleaner tendrils to the “almost done” stalks. Definitely among the top ten signs of "You Know You're Crazy When . . ." But it is a fabulous beanstalk.

Those who paddled out to school on this rainy evening were in for a treat! Our Family Literacy Night activities were a success.

Mrs. D (a.ka. Jack's poor mother) read Jack and the Beanstalk while I mutely pantomimed.

We discussed the parts of a seed and looked at seed embryos under the microscope.

Each family assembled a grow-your-own-beanstalk take-home kit,

and the children worked together to measure Jack's beanstalk.
Happy literacy to all, and to all, a goodnight!

Can you hear me now?

Nope!

I have entirely lost my voice. (Those who know me can attest to the fact that this is not due to screaming.) I don't feel terrible, and we had two Montessori teachers-in-training scheduled to observe our classroom today. So off to school I went!

My voice is, quite literally, a six-inch voice. You have to get real close to hear me at all. It pushed all of us to use more signs, gestures, and even illustrations to communicate. (The children are also surprisingly good at lip-reading!) But the really interesting thing about speaking so quietly . . . is that everyone else does, too! I whispered and gestured to the children, and they whispered and gestured back. It made for a very quiet work period. Of course, they were also super-quiet because I (quietly) explained my silent situation, and they are good about helping me out when I need it. But even our adult visitors whispered back to me--after the children had left the room for lunch.

This fascinating phenomenon is a powerful reminder of the influence that modeling has in our classrooms. If you want to see a behavior in the children, you must be the example.


P.S. You don't have to be rendered mute to give this a try!

Measuring One Hundred

Happy Groundhog Day! Feliz Día de la Candelaria, or Candlemas!
And happy Hundredth Day of School!
To celebrate our one hundred days together, we got busy measuring one hundred. One hundred grams, one hundred milliliters, one hundred centimeters . . . but not just measuring. Oh, no. That would never do. I am a firm believer that measurement activities should be practical. We measure for a purpose. We measure and graph amaryllis growth. We measure minerals and the shrinking mass of evaporating apples. We measure caterpillars and worms and holes in the ground.

Today we measured food--for a 100th Day snack!
Procedure:
1. Wash your hands.
2. Measure 100 cm of pretzel sticks. Use the balance to measure the mass of the pretzel sticks and record in a chart. 3. Measure 100 ml of peanuts. Use the balance to measure the mass of the peanuts and record in a chart. 4. Measure 100 grams of raisins. Use the graduated cylinder (or measuring cup) to measure the volume of the raisins and record in a chart. 5. Measure 100 grams of M&Ms. Use the graduated cylinder (or measuring cup) to measure the volume of the M&Ms and record in a chart. 6. Measure 100 ml of juice into a drinking cup for each person. Use the balance to measure the mass of the juice. 7. Answer the questions below.
8. Place the pretzel sticks, peanuts, raisins, and M&Ms in the bowl (or on the plate).
9. Your snack is a mixture. Enjoy sharing it together.

Conclusions:
Which has greater volume—100 ml of peanuts or 100 grams of raisins?
Which has greater mass—100 cm of pretzel sticks or 100 ml of peanuts?
Which has greater mass—100 grams of raisins or 100 grams of M&Ms?
Can a mixture be separated?

What We're Reading:
The Night Before the 100th Day of School by Natasha Wing
100th Day Worries by Margery Cuyler
Gregory's Shadow by Don Freeman
Go to Sleep Groundhog! by Judy Cox
Geoffrey Groundhog Predicts the Weather by Bruce Koscielniak
Double Trouble Groundhog Day by Bethany Roberts


Note to Educators:
Please do "try this at home"!
For 25 students (5 Cooperative Science Groups of 4-5 children), I use
15 oz. bag of pretzel sticks (more than enough—a smaller bag would do)
24 oz. container of raisins (or in our case, Craisins)
16 oz. container of peanuts (Be sure to check for peanut allergies! If someone is allergic, substitute another snack for your entire class.)
64 oz. bottle of juice (plus an additional small bottle)
21.3 oz. bag of M&Ms (other possibilities for snacks include: cereal, Cheerios, Cheezits)

* I designate a “supply table,” and groups take turns bringing the main supply to their group table for use. For example, one group might be measuring pretzels while another group has the container of peanuts. When they have measured out the amount for their group, they return the package to the supply table.

For each student, you will also need:
1 napkin and/or plate
1 drinking cup (Note: 3 oz. cups are not large enough for this activity.)

For each group, you will need to gather one of each of the following (quantities listed assume you have organized 5 cooperative science groups):
5 meter sticks
5 sets of gram weights
5 metric balances
5 graduated cylinders or graduated beakers (100ml or more)!

Dead Man's Float

So I’m back! Apologies for the extended blog break. I think my reasons for this unintended hiatus are twofold.

1. I’ve been working on an application for a grant, which will hopefully fund another fabulous Fluffy adventure this summer. Due to the importance of this grant and its impending deadline, I felt that if I was writing, I should be working on that.
2. I have been struggling with balance (a verb that requires constant maintenance), and this is not a must-do. And sometimes, when tasks are crashing down on you with the roar of waves, the best strategy is to do what they taught us in swimming class at the Y. Stop thrashing around and just float. Conserve energy. Minimize. Admittedly, my success with this particular technique is questionable. I offer laborious beanstalk production as Exhibit A. Exhibits B & C: I recently agreed to mentor a new teacher at our school, and I consented to serve on the faculty at our local Montessori training center this summer. So much for doing less!

It’s not that there’s been nothing to write home about—or even that I haven’t been writing. I just haven’t been finishing. You may find a few “new” posts popping up in December and January.

Fee-fi-fo-fum!

When I put out the word that I needed help with a Jack and the Beanstalk costume, I had not one but two offers of help. "Of course! This looks like a fun project. When do you need it by?" Umm, next week. (Did I mention I am lucky to have The Most Awesome Friends a person could ask for? Though, they do serve as enablers of my personal brand of insanity . . .)

That's right. It's costume time again. Family Literacy Night is Wednesday night, and the theme this year is fairytales. Each room will offer a fairytale read-aloud and an associated hands-on activity. I did some fast thinking and snatched up "Jack and the Beanstalk," to be paired with stalk measuring and seed planting activities. Mmm, science and literature. My favorite!

Mrs. D (Mistress of Procurement that she is) procured green and brown paper for fashioning said beanstalk and snack-size plastic cups for seed planting. Almost done. . . . Then our principal mentioned at the faculty meeting last week that she was expecting everyone to be in costume for this event. Uh, oh.

Google to the rescue! I found this kids' costume and figured it would be both inexpensive and "quick" to make a Ms.S-sized version. As I was pondering where to acquire green beanstalk tights at this time of year (Is there a season for opaque green tights?), I suddenly remembered that I already own a very old pair of green tights (having kept them way beyond any obvious usefulness). Even more impressive, I was actually able to locate them! Savers vindicated, once again!

"If it's somethin' weird and it won't look good, Who ya gonna call?"

I turned to a friend (dare I say, just as crazy as I?) who dressed her family as the characters from Charlotte's Web for Halloween. Having fashioned from tights Charlotte's octo-legs and Templeton's tail, she qualifies as an expert. With what should I stuff them, dear Liza, dear Liza? 

"You can have my stuffing. Come quick! I'm home alone! (and I'm supposed to be cleaning.)"
Ah, timing is everything. The choice between beanstalk production and house-cleaning is clear!

I rushed over, green tights in hand, and--after a few unpublishable jokes and a longer-than-I-care-to-admit period of time cutting and sewing tights--I am now the proud owner of an almost-there set of beanstalks and a brown burlap Jack tunic.

Note to self: Shirts have seams, and seams consume fabric. Oops!

Long Term Investment

"Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows."
--Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Dr. Maria Montessori would have agreed vehemently with this statement. She believed that "Establishing lasting peace is the work of education," that changing the way we educate children is the key to a peaceful future. Peaceful problem solving will probably never be on The Test, but it will be evident in the citizens we raise to shepherd our future.

This afternoon, I sat on the stoop outside our building with a child who had dissolved into loud, angry tears. Angry feelings are OK, but loud, disruptive noises in the classroom are not. I quietly reminded him that I was ready to listen to words when he was ready to use them--and then waited. A fifth grader came out to empty a bucket of dust rags and dirty water from their Friday classroom cleaning. He asked what was wrong with the child, and I explained that he was angry and why.

The fifth grader nodded knowingly and said to the child, "Come here. I have something that will help you with your anger." (No kidding: those words.) My second grader walked over, and the fifth grader gently and patiently instructed him to take one of the wet rags and squeeze as hard as he could, dripping the water into the bucket.

This simple scene illustrates so much of what we're trying to accomplish in Montessori programs. This is why we group the children together with multiple ages--so that the older children can serve as role models, providing wisdom and leadership for the younger children. This is why we work so hard at peaceful problem solving--because one day they get it! And that will make all the difference.

Know when to fold 'em!

This month's pen pal letters are letters and envelopes in one! Using an origimi letterfold technique I learned passing notes in middle school (Mrs. D claims never to have done this), we folded the letters into envelopes.

Testing. Testing. Testing . . .

We are in the midst of six long days of Stanford testing. Too long.

Having repositioned all the desks into rows has me feeling discombobulated, and reading script after testing script is numbing my brain. But I've had some time to contemplate the "stuff" teachers find themselves doing, completely outside the realm of assigned duties.

Today's was a doozy. As I administered the Listening portion of the test, rushing around to check that each of 26 first graders bubbled something (and just one something) next to the appropriate question number, Mrs. C gestured urgently in the direction of one of the children. I looked over and then desperately wished I hadn't.

The child had vomited all over himself and his test booklet. Every year during the TAKS, I live in fear of this moment: vomit on a test booklet. A puke test must be bagged, tagged, and reported as a testing irregularity. And someone (I prayed it was not me--turns out it is the Testing Coordinator) must transfer the child's bubbled answers from the barf booklet into a non-barf booklet. (And you thought that someone who threw up on a test booklet would be finished with testing? Naive little pretties.)

The other children remained surprisingly calm. ("Can you hear me now?") I, however, have the gag reflex of a mama bird. Trying very hard not to make a bad situation worse, I summoned a monitor from the hallway who kindly took the child to the nurse and then buzzed the office to let them know we needed a custodian, stat! Moments later, as I attempted to wipe off the worst of the yuck with giant wads of paper towel, our heroic but somewhat harried Testing Coordinator swept in with The Bag in which to preserve the puke test. (Is there performance pay for that?)

After the hubbub subsided, we took a brief break, regrouped, and soldiered on.


Note to self: Do not become a testing coordinator--EVER.
. . . Do you suppose there is a Chief Officer in Charge of receiving the state's vomit tests?

Chicken Soup with Rice

In January
it's so nice
while slipping
on the sliding ice
to sip hot chicken soup with rice.

Sipping once
sipping twice
sipping chicken soup with rice.

Happy New Year!

Today, we marked the new year by constructing 2010 with golden beads. As we did so, we skip-counted by tens to check our accuracy.





It is dramatic and fun to solve the problem of what to do when we come to the end of our thousand chain. Now what? This year, it was a first grader who got that “Ah, ha!” look on her face and suggested we borrow a second thousand chain from the classroom next door.




We also enjoyed lessons on A.D. & B.C., the history of the Gregorian calendar, and the months' names.

The year I completed my Montessori training was the first year that required a second thousand chain. This year, we added a ten bar. It’s hard to believe that much time has passed. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I celebrated “the new millennium” with college friends in Boston, hoping that the Y2K Bug would not obliterate civilization as we knew it.

The first graders I worked with that first year are now 16! Those little people can drive! Abby, who, one cold winter day, dissolved into tears because her mother made her wear her “Puffyman Sweater.” And Taylor, whose zipper got irreparably stuck after he zipped himself—knees, arms, torso, and all--into his hoodie jacket, so that only his feet and head protruded. (We had to use scissors to release him from the jacket so that he could walk again!) Anna and Katie, who cheerfully worked non-stop, writing lengthy stories and completing volumes of research. And Julio, whose reading took off after we reeled him in with non-fiction books on topics like sharks and big cats.

Surely, they have no idea how much they taught me.

I told you once
I told you twice
all seasons
of the year
are nice
for eating
chicken soup with rice!
--Maurice Sendak


What We're Reading:
Chicken Soup with Rice: A Book of Months by Maurice Sendak