Mrs. Turner and Mr. Tomizawa are always looking for a good laugh. In the Comment section of this post, tell us your favorite joke. We’ll read all of them and make a digital collection of our favorites!
This video takes you deep into the ocean, beyond the reach of natural light, beyond the depths any mammal has traveled. If Mt. Everest were submerged upside down into the deepest part of the ocean, its summit would reach 27,000 feet, well above the sea floor. Researchers say that humans have only discovered 5-10% of the Earth’s oceans. Watch this video, then respond to the following question in the Comment section.
What do you imagine you would discover if you could travel to the deepest parts of the ocean? You may be creative and imaginative in your response, but please base your response on information provided in this video or other research sources. You may click Save Draft to give yourself additional time to respond.
I am always astonished at the ease with which Edgewood students rise to the challenge of public performances. Whether it’s the Edgewood Talent shows or 5th grade Capstone TED Talks and Ignite/Spark presentations, students today have the capacity to summon the right mix of adrenaline and fortitude to perform for a live audience.
That’s not how I remember 5th grade. I do have this one vivid memory. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. Gordon, had his students read from the play he had written for our annual class production. He asked me to read the lines for one particular role. It featured a baby airplane and he needed me to talk like one. He even demonstrated the part with his own “baby voice.” The class howled with laughter. Everyone in the room could see the show-stealing potential of this one scene. And Mr. Gordon had asked ME to read the lines.
When I stepped in front of my classmates, with script in hand, I wanted to reward my teacher’s faith in me. I wish I could say I had shed my “shy guy” persona and stood with poise and confidence at that moment. I wish I was able to channel my inner baby and upend the room with laughter. But the only inner baby I could summon was the one that cried under pressure.
They weren’t tears of fright or embarrassment. Even as tears rolled down my cheeks, I was laughing right along with my classmates. But I remember feeling the crushing weight of the attention on me. Too much to handle. Eyeballs upon eyeballs, all on me. Needless to say, I didn’t take the baby airplane role. It went to Teddy who begged for the part and would ultimately steal the show with his performance.
Public speaking was a deal breaker for me back then. So it was not surprising to learn, through much of my childhood and adulthood, that it was the number one fear among Americans. But that was so 20th century. In this new era of online information and perhaps misinformation, Americans find that there are now far worse things that frighten us, according to the 2018 Chapman University of American Fears. Public speaking pulls in at #59.
It makes sense. We are of a generation that accessorizes with mobile recording devices and leaves little of our lives undocumented. We have grown accustomed to posing, performing, and sharing our lives with our social media friends. And their friends. And their friends (who collectively remind us of the many things that ought to scare us).
In fact, our social media feeds are tantamount to performance art. Collectively, they represent artistic portrayals of lives that are dramatized and romanticized in hopes they are received favorably. We can only hope that those who post these portrayals are also genuinely finding happiness in their lives, even when there are no likes or retweets at stake.
It stands to reason that the everyday performances we share with an online community makes us a little more comfortable seeing and hearing ourselves in a public setting. And as a teacher, it also makes it a little easier to encourage students to share their voice with a public audience because there’s now this cultural expectation that we should pose with our food, post video of our glorious summer trips, and share and re-share appeals on behalf of important social causes.
It is a cultural norm that even those who shape education policy have noticed. Take for instance the new K-12 Next Generation English Language Arts learning standards and its focus on audience engagement. The following is from the Speaking and Listening section called Presentation of Knowledge and Ideas:
- Standard 4: Present information, findings, and supporting evidence so that listeners can follow the line of reasoning. Ensure that the organization, development, and style are appropriate to task, purpose, and audience.
- Standard 5: Make strategic use of digital media and visual displays to express information and enhance understanding of presentations.
- Standard 6: Adapt speech to a variety of contexts and communicative tasks, demonstrating command of academic English when indicated or appropriate.
This means that our K-12 students are not only learning the content, they are asked to present it to an audience for the sake of teaching them. To teach is the ultimate test of whether we have learned. In teaching audience engagement skills, we help students get past anxiety and self-consciousness to focus on connecting others with useful information. But most important in teaching students these skills we help them find their voice and ideally help them use it in ways to contribute to their community.
And when I think back to that day in Mr. Gordon’s class, I realize now what he was doing. He had looked inside me and saw something I hadn’t. That the best of me was yet to come and that with time and experience, I would one day step forward to center stage, and be heard.
Now that’s an offensive question. It presumes that students might not. And that the teacher dictates what a child will write in the classroom. And when does that happen? Because in school students have plenty of opportunities to write freely… during designated classroom writing times… in the genre chosen for them… based on the seasonal requirements of the district writing program. Ugh… Hopefully, not all schools have their students write like this.
But Ralph Fletcher expresses concern for such scripted classroom writing (with “conscripted” writers, my quotes) in his book Joy Write. He called on teachers to loosen the reins on our classroom writing and promote opportunities for “low stakes” writing. Encourage writing that is purposeful and fun for the writers, whether it’s through notes, signs, silly songs and rhymes, or a reflection of their continuously gleaming imagination. Perhaps a play that captures the realities of life as a kid. Or observations that hint at a future Katherine Paterson or George Lucas. It’s the low stakes writing that builds the foundation and upper reaching supports for high stakes writing. It makes writing meaningful to a young writer.
When classroom writing opportunities are allowed to expand beyond the requirements of a commercial program or state standards, and open doors for our students to the possibilities of writing, who knows what their jottings will lead to? Perhaps we can use these famous people and the notebooks they kept, as reference.
This summer I gave a workshop to K-12 and Higher Ed educators and librarians at the Summer Institute of Digital Literacy at the University of Rhode Island. The topic was about making writing relevant to students through everyday “writing rehearsals.” I had teachers fashion characters or objects out of pipe cleaners and write about their creations and then I spoke about developing creative writing techniques through Adobe Spark (Video, Page, Post apps). Because digital tools don’t always have to be about making final presentations. They can be used to discover and outlet imagination that can jump start the more complex and creative narrative. In other words, writing for the fun of it!
Students don’t have to start and finish a piece in one classroom sitting. They don’t have to devote the entirety of their daily writing to a particular piece. They just need a chance to write freely with purpose and preferably… through an open door.