NWP

Funding for the National Writing Project has been cut this year, and funding for next year looks bleak.
I attended the summer institute in 1995, just prior to coming to teach in Leverett. The Western Mass Writing Project, based at the University of Massachusetts, is a fabulous resource for writers and writing teachers. The summer institute is a phenomenal place to hone the craft of teaching writing and to be a writer: to relearn the craft through writing and giving and receiving feedback on writing. The third component on the summer institute is to research best practices in writing and share those practices with other teachers, both in the summer institute and, later, throughout the academic year with colleagues and in other schools as teacher- trainers and mentors.
Writing is communication and communication is essential to our democracy.  The power of the written word has sparked revolutions across the Middle East and overthrown despots and dictators.  As we strive to race for the top in Education in the U.S., we must not give short shrift to Writing in a push to promote Science and Math.

The National Writing Project has a new web site with some great links, tools, prompts, and ideas: digitalis.nwp.org


A letter from Anne Herrington of the Western Massachusetts Writing Project follows:

As you may or may not know, funding for the National Writing Project has
been cut from this year's federal budget and likely also from the following
year's budget.  While WMWP will be able to continue most programs for next
year, after that, we will have to seriously curtail most everything,
including Summer Institute and other summer courses.  This is very serious.


Please lend your voice, your words, to advocate to Congress to restore
funding for NWP. 

How? Blog or email our Congressmen.  Click on the following link at
Cooperative Catalyst
- http://coopcatalyst.wordpress.com/

and then click on the link to #blog4nwp for a fuller explanation.  It's
important to act as soon as possible.  The more blogs, the better.

Spring has sprung

Simple machines: hammering nails outside, building ramps, levers, pulleys, block and tackles, lifting cars with the screw of a jack, wedging things up, open, and in, exploring the impact of wheels on friction and force, gearing up for inventing and the invention fair: that's spring in grade 4!

Mnemonic:  I Want Popcorn When Sam Leaves

Inclined Plane, Wheel and Axle, Pulley, Screw,Wedge, Lever (and Gear?!? or is a gear just a wheel and axle with little levers on it?)

How many simple machines on a tricycle anyway?

Technology in the classroom

I have recently watched two fascinating documentaries about technology in schools and in our lives. The first was an episode of Frontline that suggested we are becoming far less able to reflect and think deeply about anything as we multitask more and more. It followed researchers at Stanford testing people who were very skilled at multitasking as they tried to do well on discreet tasks-- and failed miserably compared with people who focused on that one task. It also interviewed students from MIT and other schools who wrote brilliant sections of papers, excellent paragraphs, and choppy, disjointed whole papers.  Last, it interviewed students, including English majors, who did not read books, ever.  Even if they read chunks of assigned text, they did not take the time to read a book in their lives.
The second documentary was about Quest to Learn, a school in NYC that uses gaming and computer games to teach. The students also design their own games, and the school's philosophy is that gaming is learning:  you tackle problems, gain knowledge, and use it to achieve measurable levels.  That is an excellent model for learning, with built in assessment!  The students work collaboratively on building games, and most of their subject matter is incorporated into technology platforms in some way.  Fascinating ideas.
Technology, from before the time of Mary Shelley till now, was and is both a boon and a curse.  We respond and adapt as a species to these changes, and they shape who and what we are.  Revolution in Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan, and Iran (and perhaps Cuba): driven by the communication and organization made possible by social networks like Facebook and Twitter.
Makes me want to join.
The end of the era of reflection, reading, and contemplation?  Makes me want to retreat and withdraw from the technological age.
Time will march on with or without me, of course.  The middle path:  contemplative use of technology; technological assistance with shared reflection and joint action.  These are perhaps where the future must lie.

I just made a new Voki. See it here:

From Richard Byrne's site

This looks intriguing!

Nabber - Learn Languages with Others

Nabber is a new service for learning a new language with the help of others online. Think of Nabber as part vocabulary studying tool, part social network.

Here's how Nabber works; you can browse for vocabulary words and phrases translated by other members of the Nabber network. Likewise you can contribute your own translations to the network. Nabber provides space to not only give a translation, but also to provide an explanation of the translation. If you come across a Nabber member who is making a lot of good contributions, you can follow that person to keep up with all of the translations they contribute.

Pandora plus

Just  set up a Pandora account. I have used iTunes before and downloaded a podcast or two.  UC Berkley has all their lectures available on iTunesU.  Pretty cool idea.  I listened to a philosophy lecture that was fascinating at first, then way too esoteric for me, especially since I had not done the reading.(!)
Ack! I was listening to Pandora in a fine mood when an ad for Netflix popped up and shattered the mood.  How do I keep Pandora running in class with ads hitting the kids' ears?  I am vehemently and rabidly opposed to advertisements that target children.
Not good.  I guess I could just monitor the songs and pay attention to when they end so I can stop ads in mid-flight, but what a pain.
Hmmmm.....

Collaborative story

It's been fun working on the collaborative story with other teachers on staff.  Everyone has a unique style. I keep wanting to steer the story one way and return to find it someplace very different. I have pasted it below (with names deleted to protect the privacy of the authors).

A Collaborative Story

We will be using this picture to create a collaborative story.  We are a very creative group so I am very intrigued to see how our story will evolve!   I have started the story line - now you just have to contribute.   After you have made your contribution to the story, add your name in parentheses so we know who contributed.   Once you are finished you can go to FILE and select SAVE NOW (or you can always use Apple S).  If it is grayed out, Google Docs has already saved it for you.  Feel free to come back to the story and add more to the story line!


Chapter 1

To see them, you would think, “What an odd couple!”  How they met and developed their unique relationship, however, is an amazing story in itself.  

Murgatroid tumbled over and over again in the darkness, afraid to even think about where he would stop or what would happen to him next. His heart pounding and his fur drenched, he opened his eyes.

His fur was wet and sticky. He could hear the rushing water under him. He looked up and blinked several times to clear his eyes. It was as dark as a wolf’s mouth. He thought he heard a noise....

It was that first grade class coming to the pond for their yearly visit to the vernal pool. They dipped their nets into the water and hoped to catch the first frog. The class never thought that they would also find that runaway hamster from the kindergarten class.  What should they do?

“It’s Jumpin’ Josie!” shouted Raoul, the little curly haired lad who had netted the wee beastie.  “But what’s that green blob underneath her?  Is it a pile of leaves and pond muck?”

“No, it’s a frog!”  bellowed Alice in amazement. “What is Jumpin’ Josie doing riding on the back of a giant bullfrog?  Is it a rodeo?”

“No, it’s Mr. Froggy.  He went went a courtin’ Miss Mousie!” burbled Fletcher.   (Bill)

Meanwhile, 6th graders tumbled out of their classroom door and dashed to the field.

Science whiz Clarissa overheard the conversation at the pond. She considered the younger children’s observations a bit immature. She thought, “Every knowledgeable 6th grade student would instantly recognize that this isn’t a “courting” situation.  Romance across species is impossible.” So, with adolescent confidence Clarissa declared, “Can’t you see that the frog is

                                                    wearing a hat?”   

Chapter 2

                                                    One month earlier...
          

It was night time.  Josie the little brown mouse sat with her 25 sisters and brothers  and their exhausted mother in the a room with hard walls.  They sat with their backs next to the big, round, blue and red pond that was filled with hard, round things.  Occasionally giant humans with huge heads and smaller bodies would jump into this skyscraper, and thrash around.  They made horrible screeches and the pond shook.  When this happened, Josie and her 25 sisters and brothers and their exhausted mother scrunched down and put their paws over their eyes, expecting the worst.  But the big headed humans with the smaller bodies would always go away and the mouse family crept back to lean against the blue and red pond.  Josie’s 25 brothers and sisters, and their exhausted mother were happy living in this hard walled room with the blue and red pond.  They got to eat lots of snacks left by the big headed humans, and they were content.  But Josie yearned for adventure.    

Before heading out for adventure, however, Josie had to clear up a huge conundrum. She was having an identity crisis.
“Mama,” Josie inquired innocently,”what am I?”
“Am I a mouse or a hamster?”
Josie’s mother gazed lovingly at her daughter and gently cooed, “Well...”   

“You’ve got to be kidding.  You are supposed to help me feel better, Mom.”  

“You can decide that yourself, my darling,” said her mother. Confident that she could be whatever she wanted to be, Josie nosed her way out of the hard-walled room into the larger world of big-headed, small-bodied humans.   (Ghostwriter)

Josie had not gone far when she heard the sharp voice of Ignatious Bottlecrumb, the science lab teacher say, “Looks like one of the mamsters has gotten loose. And look at that spiky fur and those prominent whiskers! It must have elevated levels of testosterone. I must bring it back to the lab for tests.”

Without warning or ceremony, Josie was scooped into a trash bin and whisked down the hall.  The colors of the walls shifted from the cozy pastels of the Kindergarten room to the warm cork boards of the hallways to the sterile white of the science lab. Ignatious shook Josie from the basket into a tiny wire enclosure.  “Trapped again,” she thought. But this cage was far smaller than her prior dwelling.  She felt the prick of a needle in her thigh, and then, for a time, she felt no more. (Bill)