Not quite Red-Breasted Boobies
I often start class by doing something that knocks the daily-grind mindset out of them. Sometimes I'll speak in Whale (a la Finding Nemo) or I'll start describing them in ways they aren't accustomed to (today they "bemused me" ... and discussion ensued). Today their journal exercise was to think of five questions they would want to ask teachers, turning the tables, as it were. For attendance, one of their options was to share one of their questions, with individualized praise going to particularly creative questions. They always have options for answering attendance. This is something I put into practice after attending a workshop where I learned some ungodly low percentage of students ever were spoken to even once throughout the day by any adult (teacher or parent). Starting class, while they're writing by giving them a chance to share something from a menu of two or three options (one of which is succinct for those who don't care to be loquacious or in the spotlight) gives them a chance to speak and to be heard every day. It also seems to be a useful part of the community building I strive so hard to do in my classes. Being safe to risk, to have ideas and test theories -- it's not so common at this age as one would hope.
Anyhow, I often end up beginning class by giving the class a collective name.
"My Fine Young Scholars"
"My precious naked mole-rats"
"The prestigious prodigies of such&such Middle School"
and so on ...
Last year's highlight was a day I hadn't thought of anything but was in the midst of beginning the "My ..." I had to think of a several-worded animal quickly. "... red-breasted Boobies" came out of my mouth. You don't often see 8th graders agape. They always have a caustic, sarcastic, unfiltered or random comment. It was photo-worthy, really. Of course, then I spent several minutes convincing them that that was indeed a bird. Just as Lake Titicaca is a Peruvian waterform and so on.
Today, "My precious Chickadees" got a journal-stopping response as well. First trimester 7th graders are so YOUNG. And so fun to tip into the realm of the curious yet unknown. I really love my kids.
Enough said. (I have no idea if these entries are interesting. Just trying to post each day to try to get back into the swing.)
Tomorrow's Friday. Is the second hand slowing down?
TPQ
Anyhow, I often end up beginning class by giving the class a collective name.
"My Fine Young Scholars"
"My precious naked mole-rats"
"The prestigious prodigies of such&such Middle School"
and so on ...
Last year's highlight was a day I hadn't thought of anything but was in the midst of beginning the "My ..." I had to think of a several-worded animal quickly. "... red-breasted Boobies" came out of my mouth. You don't often see 8th graders agape. They always have a caustic, sarcastic, unfiltered or random comment. It was photo-worthy, really. Of course, then I spent several minutes convincing them that that was indeed a bird. Just as Lake Titicaca is a Peruvian waterform and so on.
Today, "My precious Chickadees" got a journal-stopping response as well. First trimester 7th graders are so YOUNG. And so fun to tip into the realm of the curious yet unknown. I really love my kids.
Enough said. (I have no idea if these entries are interesting. Just trying to post each day to try to get back into the swing.)
Tomorrow's Friday. Is the second hand slowing down?
TPQ