Lesson Plan in Action: Morris is a Boy’s Name

My teaching philosophy is under construction. As I continue on my journey as a teacher candidate, my views are constantly evolving with each new tidbit of information that is thrown my way, but there is one constant that will remain static until the end of my time as a teacher decades from now: I am an activist teacher. Sound scary to you? Well, it does to me, too, but some of the scariest social justice subjects to broach are the ones that children can grasp faster than adults can, so why not expose them early? My quest to turn the next generation into kind, compassionate, free and critical thinkers has to start somewhere.

I decided to take a risk with my read aloud today, touching on a subject that, while topical and totally relevant to my school district as well as the world we live in, is continually viewed as controversial by many in our community. Pushing the envelope on touchy subjects can’t be easy for some teachers, as there are an infinite number determining factors that might derail your lesson or discourage you from tackling those issues at all, such as the views of parents or even of the wider school community. To combat any backlash, however, I decided to approach the “touchy” subject of gender norms and identity gently and indirectly, through the picture book Morris Micklewhite and the Tangerine Dress by Christine Baldacchino.

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I’ll know you’re finished when…

My two week practicum is finished! What a whirlwind! My time in the classroom is far from over, but I’m feeling a little sad about returning to my own coursework at UBC on Monday. Those kids have got me hooked! The focus of my reflection for the first week of my practicum was on the class itself and its evolving dynamics based on observations I’ve made since first stepping foot into the classroom. This week, however, as I transitioned to teaching a 20% load, I’ve been reflecting more on my own teaching and areas of focus.

I’ve realized this week the importance of having clear criteria and sticking to it, both for myself and for my students, even during lessons where criteria can tend to be wide open. For example, in an art lesson I taught on Monday afternoon during which we took turns tracing each other into life-sized avatars, I gave them free reign on how they could decorate their avatars in a way that represents them as a person. Though we brainstormed ideas and I made some suggestions about how one might complete that task, I was not clear on what the criteria for completion was.  Did the whole thing need to be coloured? Did it have to have a face? Could the students go a little more abstract and colour it like it wasn’t a person at all? Since I wasn’t clear on the criteria myself, there was no way the students would be either.

My SA gave me a great tip. When planning, make sure to finish the sentence, “I’ll know you’re finished when…” It seems so simple, but it fully had not occurred to me in this instance, art class, that not having clear criteria left it open enough for kids to not colour it at all, if they chose. So if I say those words to the kiddos, and follow up with clear, simple instructions and expectations,  it will make enforcing attainable limits that much easier.

Watching the Ripples

There’s this metaphor that keeps popping into my mind when I sit and reflect on my time in the classroom, and it encompasses and can be applied to pretty much everything I’ve encountered so far in my journey as a teacher candidate. Whenever I observe a situation, a student interaction (with work or with others), or consider my place in this wide world of education, the metaphor’s there in my mind, tugging at me and reminding me to be open and ready for anything.  As I reflect on my first week of my two week practicum, the metaphor still rings true.

Throw a stone into a calm, still lake and watch the ripples flow forth, in all directions, predictable and totally random simultaneously. Cause and effect. Every action has a reaction. The thing is, we can predict that the ripples will appear, but where those ripples take us is where the unknown can throw us for a loop.

This week I watched this metaphor manifest in several ways.

First, by being present in the classroom every day rather than once a week, I can really see the dynamics of the class shift based on which students are present. I watch the kiddos swarm the Lego table one day and then, when one single student is away the next day, the Lego table is left to stand alone in the corner. Only once has there been a day when the entire class is present, and boy was that an eye opener! I’m beginning to predict the ripples of certain students and that’s making me feel less like I’m lost in the woods and more like I’m exactly where I need to be.

https://instagram.com/p/9pQFVbPQhG/?taken-by=ms.bayne

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