There’s a lot of construction going on at school, and the start of the year has been anything but normal. With six new modular classrooms outside, and one wing still under renovation, everyone’s routine for the beginning of the year has been challenged, to say the least. I am amused by some very good teachers who've found they can actually begin their classes with dust, of all things, still on the hallway floors. I personally was forced to realize that I can still teach without a whiteboard or chalkboard.
The secret? Butcher paper.
Oh yeah. I have a roll of that stuff that weights in at 40 pounds, and I’ve been using it for years. Cheap, white, easy to rip, easy to recycle butcher paper.
Since I’m moving out of my classroom mid-year to let the hard-hats come in with their hammers, I decided not to completely unpack everything, and to hold back on the annual first bulletin-board competition (no one really talks about it, but it’s true). Instead, I plastered my walls with butcher paper, and here’s what we did with it.
Day One – Words of Wisdom
The kids came in and were immediately initiated with the daily routine of picking up a half-sheet of paper, standing at their desks, putting their backpacks down, getting out a pencil, and labeling with a full heading and “Booklet 1.1 – Words of Wisdom”. One the overhead (secret weapon without chalk or whiteboards), I did the same thing. “Good morning!” “Good morning.” Said the class. “Please sit down, and let’s get started.” That’s my cue that the talking dies down, and we are on to class-related things.
I told them the story of joining the church junior choir when I was a kid. Every year I joined with guarded optimism, and every year I wanted to quit around January. My parents always said, “No, you can’t quit in the middle. If you don’t like it, don’t join next year. But you can’t quit now.” Those ‘words of wisdom’ have stuck with me, and help guide my life. I’m a person who has abided by those words, “Don’t quit in the middle,” more than once since I was a kid.
And another story, about taking risks, about thinking before jumping off the shed into the four foot deep pool, with my buddies chanting, “Do it, do it, do it”, while a little voice inside me said, “If you’re not sure, DON’T.” . Or writing an email or posting a comment on the internet and hearing that little voice right as my finger was about to press the ‘send’ button. It said, “When in doubt, DON’T.” Those words of wisdom have probably saved not only my life, but my relationship with more than one person.
I asked, “Do you have Words of Wisdom from your life?” They were dying to talk. But I didn't let them. “Write,” I said. “Write it down. Write it all down. Write how you got those words, who gave them to you, when you needed them, how you used them, how you love them, or hate them. Tell it all on your half-sheet of paper.”
Three minutes later, I was filling up a sheet of butcher paper with their ideas as they shared them. We have a long and fascinating list of great life lessons, wise words, and family history that will stay on the wall for a few weeks. We’ll make posters after we study advertising techniques, and post them around the school before parents’ night. Each poster will be unique, meaningful, personal, and positive, and hopefully help shape the culture of the school in some small but good way.
My “Booklet 1.1 – Words of Wisdom” half-page went up on another blank bulletin board, so everyone could see it. Tomorrow, Booklet 1.2 goes up, and on, until we have a collection of about 12 or 15 half-pages of freewrites, examples, class notes, reflections, vocab words, ad infinitum – one from each day in class. They’ll make covers and turn the ‘Booklet’ in for credit – one point per page, in order, done completely. When student is absent, s/he can check out the board to see what s/he missed. If a student doesn’t want to think on a particular day, or loses a page, s/he can simply copy my example. (“But, s/he didn’t do the work!”) I could write another entire column on my philosophy toward that. Maybe later.
More on the butcher paper tomorrow. Burning Questions, and My Bucket List. The walls are full of really delightful sparks, all from the students.
I love butcher paper.
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and you are turning a blank sheet of paper into a wondrous thing, instead of a monster that scares the brain into backing away from thought. Hurray! Kudos! have a great time next week with your students. can i come and visit your classroom this year, now that i am not in my own?
ReplyDeleteYou said "They were dying to talk. But I didn't let them. “Write,” I said. “Write it down. Write it all down. Write how you got those words, who gave them to you, when you needed them, how you used them, how you love them, or hate them. Tell it all on your half-sheet of paper.” Very cool. Seems to me that the best teaching of writing is not pulling it out of them, but redirecting that urgency onto the page.
ReplyDeleteFor years with my college kids I've struggled to get them to theorize--to find principles and concepts that go beyond the everyday experience. I've read enuf "I got so loaded on Main Street" papers here at Cortland. And with that sort of experience, there isn't much on the other side of it. There is not much to say except that they did something.
So I let them. And yet I'm trying to have them find in their stories a principle, a single freaking word, a phrase or image. How? I going to ask them to think of it as a short chapter in their autobiography, and they have to give it a word that describes what it the chapter means, not just what it is. It's not just "getting loaded"; it's "the Forbidden," for example. At least that is my hope.
I like the forbidden as much as the next guy, but I'm bilious about bingeing stories.