I gleefully invited the kids to begin thinking about how they could document their projects and learning.<\/p>\n
Unfortunately, I was met with eyerolls and groans.<\/p>\n
Somehow it seems that they’re not all that excited about “school-ifying” their projects.<\/p>\n
As an educator, I can’t ignore the myriad learning opportunities these projects offer. But my learners aren’t playing. This is real life, they crow. Why do we need to write about it? they plead.<\/p>\n
Right now, the lines between school-and-home<\/a> and teacher-and-parent are blurred. I need to think about this.<\/p>\n That Dewey guy, fellow Vermonter? He was pretty brilliant<\/a> when it came to education. (For the record, so was his wife Alice, whose career as an educator provided Dewey much of the fodder for his astute observations and Pedagogic Creed<\/a>.) His more famous quotes often rattle around in my head at pivotal moments. Here are a few that have been circling my thoughts lately:<\/p>\n “I believe that education… is a process of living and not a preparation for future living.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Education is <\/em> life.<\/p>\n And that couldn’t be more true as we plant seeds, make bread, and learn the names of the spring plants emerging in the forest.<\/p>\n “We don’t learn from experience…we learn from reflecting on experience.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n And reflection is where we make meaning. Just like savasana following a yoga practice<\/a> lets all the good sink in and lets our bodies integrate all that work, we need to pause after these rich learning experiences.<\/p>\n We need to evaluate and write our mental note-to-self.<\/p>\n To let our experience sink in.<\/p>\n If Dewey is right (and I believe he is) it is both these real-world pandemic projects and <\/em>the process of reflecting on them that is The Real Thing. Our Aim in Education.<\/p>\n But how can I help my kids reap the benefits of these learning experiences without the eyerolls and groans? (Read: suffering for children and parents alike.)<\/p>\n I remember in high school English class how I would lament that I just wanted to read the book and enjoy it, not pick it apart into such fine detail that it loses its appeal. I remember how I assigned my students to complete reading logs<\/a>, documenting minutes and pages read.\u00a0 Arguably these both killed some of the joy of the experiences.<\/p>\n Yet, I’ve been actively involved in book clubs for the past 20 years, where I show up so that I can discuss books (and yes, eat cheese and sip beverages). And I now keep track of my own reading on the Goodreads app. I love seeing my collection of books grow, and the satisfaction of reaching my reading goals.<\/p>\n How do I make sense of my adult behaviors in the context of my schooling experiences? Why now do I deeply enjoy something that I resisted as a student? There are probably many answers, but one stands out: without having become proficient at the skills necessary for these behaviors (decoding and meaning-making! literary analysis! goal setting!) I probably wouldn’t engage in them as an adult.<\/p>\n Similarly, our kids need to develop essential skills.<\/p>\n And developing these skills takes practice. Take perseverance, for example, the stick-with-it-ness that allows us to meet even the most challenging tasks with success. Based on my recent observations, my kid isn’t likely to learn perseverance by practicing his multiplication tables or emptying the dishwasher.<\/p>\n So is there a way to get there without as much resistance?<\/p>\n Based on this kid’s new-found passion for his bike and his drive to build a pump track<\/a>, he just might learn it with a shovel.<\/p>\n When we give kids a choice of what to do, and when it’s something they love (or like; like is good enough) they can develop the skills they need to succeed, driven by their own interests. They can work toward developing proficiency in a wide array of skills while engaged in an activity that captures their imagination and interest.<\/p>\n When this happens, our role shifts.<\/p>\n So maybe I’ve figured out my pandemic project problem. My kids already have passion projects underway.\u00a0 Education = life, check! And ok, as a mom, maybe it doesn’t make sense to assign actual documentation and reflection in a PLP (though as a teacher it sure would).<\/p>\n But it does make sense to slow them down, ask them questions, and help them plan and reflect. This will balance my Deweian-experience-and-reflection equation.<\/p>\n Here’s what I’m thinking:<\/p>\n My role before the kids get started is to help them make a plan and get organized and to anticipate and plan for challenges. A few of these questions would do:<\/p>\n For the most part, when things are going well, they need little intervention. But when they get frustrated, or when we see things going off track, a little redirection can nudge things back in the right direction.<\/p>\n When work is done (for the hour, for the day, or the project is complete), we can hold the space for reflection.<\/p>\n I can notice, aloud, how they located the information they needed or worked together successfully, or how they worked hard to achieve their goal even though they were tired\/frustrated\/hungry. I can celebrate their success with them.<\/p>\n Also, please notice that these aren’t leading questions. (Like: what will you do after you make a mess? What will happen if you don’t? Do you really think that’s a good idea? Just what do you think you’re doing, mister!?<\/em>) And they aren’t statements, either. They are generous, curious, scaffolding questions.<\/p>\n By asking questions I’m engaging their brains in problem-solving. I’m asking them to figure it out, perhaps with a little support.<\/p>\n Here’s the truth: even when I ask my kids these questions they often don’t have the answers. There might be an IDK. But in just considering the questions we are helping them build the neural pathways for planning and reflection in their brains. Just like it can take up to 40 experiences with food before a child decides they like it, it can also take numerous iterations of<\/p>\n to build those connections and insight.<\/p>\n But soon they’ll have an answer, and eventually, they’ll be able to ask themselves the questions.<\/p>\n And once they have those skills (and they’ll know they have those skills because they’ve noticed and reflected on them) they will be able to call on them in the moments when the content of their task is less appealing.<\/p>\n We may need to remind them of this, too.<\/p>\n So after reflection (hey, thanks for reading) I think I know how to solve this learning documentation conundrum. Now, in this pandemic spring, I will urge my children to continue their projects<\/a>.<\/p>\n And I will ask them questions. (Lots of questions.)<\/p>\n And that will be enough.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\nWe interrupt this blog post for a few words from John Dewey:<\/h3>\n
Striking a balance<\/h3>\n
![\"project-based](\"https:\/\/tiie.w3.uvm.edu\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/IMG_20200414_124436751-253x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/h3>\nSo what’s the difference?<\/h3>\n
![\"project-based](\"https:\/\/tiie.w3.uvm.edu\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/IMG_20200515_143439-225x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/h3>\nAnd this is the promise of personalized learning.<\/h4>\n
Questions, questions, and more questions<\/h4>\n
Before work<\/h4>\n
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During work<\/h4>\n
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After work<\/h4>\n
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Considering the questions is more important than having the answers<\/h4>\n
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Note-to-self:<\/h4>\n