Tales from two Maker Spaces

I had the opportunity to visit gifted classrooms in the two middle schools that feed into our high school this week. Both of these schools have already embraced the use of Maker Spaces, so I wanted to learn from my colleagues as well as see what the kids coming through the program have had experience with.

The eighth graders at both schools are working on an escape room project--each of the classes are working together to design and build their room, and kids from the other school will try to escape. The different schools were in different phases of the project, so I was able to see both the planning and the building.

One of the things that stood out to me was that in the school that was building, the students were completely engaged and motivated. Even before the bell rang, they were getting out their work. They stayed on task the whole time. The teacher made suggestions occasionally, but students felt free to make their own choices. They had complete ownership of their projects and collaborated in a way that would make a professional proud.

When I was talking to the teacher at the other school, she gave me an interesting perspective. She said that she hesitates to call her classroom filled with shelves of materials a Maker Space. Calling it a Maker Space, she suggested, makes it seem special, out of the ordinary. For her, it's just what they do.

My biggest concern at this point, besides wondering if any students will sign up to take the class, is figuring out what materials to request. One big relief after talking to the middle school teachers is that they have not felt stress about materials. Much of what they use is donated by parents, and if they don't have something they want, they put it on a list to request for next year and have the students focus on what they do have. I guess it's just another element of letting go of the desire to control.

Giving up control

I had a breakthrough yesterday. No great, measurable deeds were accomplished, but I had a change in mindset that I think helps clarify things.

Hi, I'm Megan, recovering control freak.

The home of an undercover control freak

And what's really funny is that I'm an inconspicuous control freak. When I think of my colleagues in the English department, I think I come across as relatively relaxed. I don't know what I'll be teaching in my English classes on September 5th next school year (Hey, Josh!). I, sadly, am never "with it" enough to book the computer carts months (perhaps years) in advance like Rob. I'm not terrifying like Valerie (you know I love you). My work spaces at times look, quite frankly, disastrous. But, mentally, I like a place for everything and everything in its place.

This is a problem when it comes to embracing Maker education because, as I've been told, Making is messy. Making requires students to move at their own paces, to be allowed to slow down and keep trying, to do something over, to take leaps. I can't plan for that, I just have to allow it to happen.

I've been pretty hung up on how many units or projects students will be required to do, what materials they should use and when. How long each unit should last. What should we do every Monday? What about Fridays?

Yesterday, I allowed myself to let all that go. I've been so worried about nailing the Jell-O to the wall that I neglected to ask myself who the heck wants Jell-O on the darn wall in the first place. 

So now I have a plan to de-plan. I'm not going to share the plan yet because I need more time to ruminate. But for the first time since the Education Forum in October, I am more excited than apprehensive about facilitating the class next year.

Nailing Jell-O to the wall

Me, flummoxed

Trying to get a solid start to planning my Maker class has been, like my dad is known to say, "nailing Jell-O to the wall." Or herding cats. Whichever you prefer. The reason for this is largely my lack of experience in Making. Additionally, outside of engineering and "shop" classes, maker education is still mostly viewed as an elementary and middle school experience. I don't have a lot of models to draw from at the high school level.

So where to begin? During the Education Forum at the Maker Faire, I started listing units I'd like to include. My idea then, which I still think is solid, was to start the semester with several "Materials" units, during which students will be required to to choose projects that use a required element, for example a paper product or coding.

After students have explored the use of different materials, the units would then become more purpose-driven than material-driven: for example, creating a life hack or a game. Ultimately, I want to emphasize the iterative part of design and end the unit with each student improving a former project and hosting a class Maker Faire to show them off.

Here are the questions that keep my Jell-O from sticking to the wall:

• What materials and resources will I have?
• What materials and resources do I need to ask for?
• Whom should I ask?
• How long will it take to complete a project?
• Should this be something I regulate, or should students be allowed to move at their own pace.
• Would it be OK for some students to spend a semester working on a single project while some work on several?
• What do I grade?
• I do have ideas about this--I'm not concerned, really, with the products themselves since I am not teaching a particular content. So I don't know if I'll even grade the final products themselves; rather, I'll grade the process, which includes life-long learning skills that should serve my students in any context:
• Goal-setting
• Risk-taking
• Breaking tasks down into steps
• Identifying necessary materials and resources
• Using materials and resources respectfully and responsibly
• Documenting progress
• Reflection
• How to grade is not so clear. I would like to use Standards-Based Grading. But do I organize my grades by unit or by standard? What form should rubrics take?

The list of questions I have is overwhelming. So much so, that in November, I told myself that I wouldn't think about the course until "next semester." But now "next semester" is here, and I need to buckle down. In the end, although I said I don't "Make" things, I am creative, and what I love about teaching is that it's a creative profession: Planning this class is Making although the hammer, nails, and Jell-O are, so far, metaphorical. The primary reason for starting this blog was to practice what I hope to preach next year by documenting and reflecting upon the creation of a risky, but worthwhile, endeavor.

"But I don't know how to do anything"

Hoping to learn more about the Maker Movement, I applied for and received a grant from the Innovative Technology Education Fund to attend the Education Forum at the World Maker Faire in New York City. Although I was certainly a newbie among a crowd of more seasoned educators, I was inspired by the public schools who are embracing Making, such as the Albemarle County School District in Virginia, which views Making as a great equalizer across race, culture, and socio-economic class. I decided, somewhat foolheartedly, that I wanted to have a "Making Class" the following school year. I sent excited e-mails and texts to my principal and gifted director.

Me at the New York City World Maker Faire Education Forum 

But, I have to admit, I was more excited by the dream than the reality. Part of me was hoping that one of the responsible people supervising me would tell me that it wouldn't work. Because here's a little secret:

I don't know to do anything.

Not in Maker Movement terms, anyway. I don't build stuff, I don't code, I don't know how electricity works on any practical level, my spatial-reasoning skills are severely lacking. I'm an English teacher, for goodness' sakes!

To my excitement and dismay, I was met with a lot of "yeses." Yes, you can have a class period next year just for your new class. Yes, I will buy you the equipment you need. Even the engineering teacher at the high school said, Yes, you can use my classroom with the 3-D printers and one-to-one computers. (And I hadn't even asked--he volunteered!)

The part of me that loves safety and routine, which is the largest part of me, internally screamed No! I think what I really wanted to hear was, Wow, Megan, you have really great ideas. Too bad we can't make it work. Keep doing what you've been doing. You're the best.

Just like many of my students, I like to avoid opportunities for failure. I needed to take my own advice and believe that avoiding discomfort and failure means avoiding growth.

So I'm working on it. It doesn't mean that I still don't wish a little bit that something throws a wrench in the whole idea before the next school year. (By the way, I don't know how to use a wrench, either.)

What I keep reminding myself is what the panelists at the Education Forum kept reiterating: 1) Making doesn't have to super high tech or complicated and 2) Educators mostly need to create opportunities, then get out of the way. It doesn't matter if I know how to do anything. My students will.

"What's this Maker Movement everyone is talking about?"

In 2015 I attended the National Association of Gifted Children Convention in Phoenix, AZ. I filled my time attending sessions that addressed what I believed my primary needs as a high school gifted resource teacher to be: college counseling and social-emotional wellness. I ignored the slate of opportunities to learn about something called "The Maker Movement." To be honest, I didn't know what it was, and I wasn't really interested.

But then, I attended a General Session featuring Maker Extraordinaire, Joe Hudy. I was intrigued, but Making certainly didn't seem like anything I could tackle in my classroom. I lacked the space, materials, time, and skills to make it work.

A seed had been planted, though, and was encouraged to grow by the work two of my colleagues were doing in creating a Project-Based Learning English 3 class. When I really started paying attention, I saw that many of my students were hungry for an opportunity to literally be more active in school.

I dipped my toe in the water, and asked my gifted director and parent group for some Keva blocks and kits. Soon, my occasionally apathetic students in Gifted Learning Lab were scrambling to finish their homework to have time to build structures that brushed the ceiling and shooting things at each other with little trebuchets and catapults. 

Students "learning" with Keva Blocks

Not only were the kids having fun (and mystifying neighboring classrooms as structures collapsed and rained down blocks), I began to see how Making could address some of the social-emotional needs of my students, both as a means of stress relief and as a way for sometimes isolated students to engage with their peers.

I still didn't know how to make Making happen in an official and productive way, though. I still didn't really understand what it was. When the 2016-2017 school year began, I was ready to wade in a little further.