Good fences

As our first full week of school draws to a close, I have this line from Robert Frost's "Mending Wall" running through my head, "Good fences make good neighbors." 

As an English teacher, it is my gift and my curse to frequently think in poetry. And as I watch my LII students wade through the expectations of the course, Frost's ambiguous words seem most appropriate. In creating the course, I wanted to give students the freedom to make and play. However, as I've learned through my work with little children (particularly my own), whether or not we want to admit it, boundaries often give us the freedom to explore and grow safely.

I think many of the kids who signed up for the class were drawn in by the promise of freedom. And they are struggling with the few constraints I have in place. While they are free to make what time, equipment, and safety allow, I am requiring them to show evidence of following a design process, to take the time to set strategic goals, to reflect on their progress. I believe this is chafing to some. As Frost's speaker ponders, "Something there is that doesn't love a wall..."

At the same time, some people get imprisoned by a lack of boundaries. People who don't have organizational structures or who don't have any pressure to be intentional about goals and processes can struggle to take risks and see things through to completion. In my own personal experience, I can attest to at least three unfinished novels lurking in my Google Drive because nothing is making me finish.

As I've walked students through my project submission process and my demands for the use of a design notebook and Maker blog, I've seen the glaze frosting over their eyes and felt like a bit of a soul crusher. But, on the other hand, my intentions are for my rules to set them free from some of the challenges that have prevented them from being successful creators in the past.

I think humans have a paradoxical relationship with boundaries. We hate that they are there, but at the same time, we need them. Without them what are we aiming for, how do we have a sense of direction? How do we exceed our limitations if they don't exist?

Day 1

After months of planning, yesterday was the first day of the new class, LEAP Innovators and Investigators. Throughout the summer months, from time to time, I'd think about what I wanted to say on the first day to the 12 brave souls who signed up for my brainchild. All along, I've been concerned about my "impostor" status, that is someone who is decidedly uncrafty and unhandy leading a Maker/Design class. 

Students working on a bridge design challenge. Did you know that a playing
card bridge easily can hold both a biology textbook and Midnight's Children?

Yesterday, I decided to be honest.

I told them that I don't know much about electronics. I told them that my only programming experience is using Scratch. Barely. I told them that I have a sewing machine but don't even know how to turn it on. I told them that I have a lot of great ideas for our class, but I don't know how they are going to work out in practice, and we might have to make changes throughout the year.

They were surprisingly unconcerned.

As I was going through the syllabus and course requirements, they starting asking me questions about what was allowable. Can we work in groups? Yes. Can our group be the whole class? Yes. Can we continue work on a project we've already started at home. Yes. Can we one project fulfill multiple requirements? Yes.

I imagine it was liberating to hear the word yes so many times at school.  It was even more liberating to say it.

At one point, a kid asked, "Why isn't all school like this?"

To which I suggested perhaps we shall wait to see how it all turns out before we start dismantling the status quo entirely. Because I still don't know how it will turn out. I still can't be sure that I will be a good enough teacher for this class. I still can't be sure that the kids will learn what I want them to learn, the things I want to learn myself--how to be more creative, how to be more confident, how to be accountable, how to take a risk, how to fail and survive. I'm not even sure if all of them will show up again today, or if some will make a hasty beeline for their counselor this morning. 

But for right now, I'm going to trust the words of e.e. cummings in the poem "love is a place":


yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds 

Hello again...

So it's been a while since I lasted posted. In the time that has passed, I've attended the Midwest Education Technology Community Conference, learned that at least 13 kids have signed up for the class next year (!), moved into a house (generating tons of cardboard for them to work with), and read two books for inspiration and encouragement: The Nerdy Teacher Presents: Your Starter Guide to Maker Spaces by Nicholas Provenzano and LAUNCH: Using Design Thinking to Boost Creativity and Bring Out the Maker in Every Student by John Spencer and A.J. Juliani.

Although I am grateful that I had the opportunity to attend METC, it really reiterated the need for more design-oriented classes at the secondary level. Perhaps I was bad at choosing sessions, but I struggled to find content that was geared toward high school kids.

Because I am struggling to find models for what I am trying to do at the secondary level, I really appreciated Nick Provenzano's background, especially because he, too, got his start as a Language Arts teacher. He writes, "Let's get rid of the idea that Making and Makerspaces are for STEM classesor programs only. That's not the case. We need to add the "A" (for arts) to STEM and create STEAM. There is so much the "A" can bring to Makerspaces it's crazy to suggest that the "A" does not belong." Although, my Maker Space is not for my English classes, I'm glad to see this Making focus originate from a non-science source.

Provenzano also believes what I had previously learned at the Maker Faire Education Forum in New York: That although people sometimes get fixated on the cool gadgets that often come in a well-funded Maker Space (3-D printers, robots, etc.), Making is a state of mind, not stuff. He says, "Making is a way of thinking. A spirit that is larger than any gadget that can be brought into a room. Handing students paper and crayons can lead to amazing creations in a Makerspace."

Of course, he talks about the cool gadgets, too, and makes some good recommendations. I was glad to see things that I already put on my wish list, like Little Bits, Makey Makeys, and Raspberry Pis, as well as some new things to look into.

For a teacher just starting out and dabbling with the idea of a Maker Space, I think Provenzano's book would be helpful and unintimidating.

I'll review LAUNCH in my next post!

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.