Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The Speed of Ideas

Considering that the schools in the Salt Lake Valley have only had Playworks programs since August, I find it absolutely amazing that students at each of our schools have begun to start up games and activities our coaches have taught them. They play spontaneously, on their own, in situations where there is no adult telling them what to do.  Several of our coaches have related stories about this incredible phenomenon.  Coach Raven at Stansbury relates this story:

I was walking into the gym to gather my equipment for recess, when I noticed a class was playing elbow tag during their PE time. I asked the teacher if she started the game, and she told me the students started it. They enjoyed the game so much during Class Game Time that they asked the PE teacher if they could play it. They taught her the game and started it themselves.

[Note: ClassGame Time is a weekly or biweekly time between recesses in which entire classes and their teachers join Playworks coaches. Kids learn basic sports, playground and cooperative games and the physical skills building through play.]

And here's another story from Coach Jaime at Meadowlark:

During indoor recess time yesterday, I walked by a class doing their indoor PE time playing Over Under Kickball! They had just learned it from Class Game Time and were using it on their own time. Great to see.

The thing that's so remarkable about these stories is not that the kids have memorized some fairly complicated games, but rather that their instincts to play, to try out new games, and to incorporate new behaviors are so wholly intact.

Play is how human beings learn skills, social norms, and interpersonal skills.  It is a deeply ingrained function of being a child, and perhaps of being human.  It is our nature to play; Part of our culture is carried in the games we pass from adult to child and in the roles played out as children teach each other games.  So what kind of culture is being passed on by having a focus on play in schools?  Coach Vee at Lincoln Elementary relates this story:

Since day one teachers have not just showed up to Class Game Time but also come fired up and ready to play. It has been such a joy to see the teachers and students having such a good time together. During our Class Game Time time everyone is engaged in play and the group morale is very high.

I would argue that an emphasis on play transmits a culture of mutual respect between students from different backgrounds and between students and teachers.  Cooperative learning through play emphasizes the fact that teachers and students necessarily work together to accomplish learning goals.  Students too often see their teachers as antagonists in a struggle that pits them against the other. Teachers work hard to transmit knowledge to resistant students, but when students and teachers play together, that illusion breaks down. Teachers and students are able to forge a bond because they understand that they are working towards the same end.

It's the power of play and it's a beautiful thing to see.


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Roshambo, also called Rock-Paper-Scissors


“In my after-school program I had two boys that were arguing over who was going to go first. I was currently trying to get the rest of the game organized and before I could turn around to resolve the conflict one of my third grade girls rolled her eyes and said "Just Roshambo for it, duh!" They did and the game started smoothly. At that moment I realized just how awesome Roshambo can be.” -Jessi Bath, Hillsdale Elementary Program Coordinator

Rock crushes scissors, scissors cuts paper, paper covers rock... so elegant, so simple, so beautiful. Why does Roshambo work?

There are several excellent answers to this question. Number one, Rock-paper-scissors is really cool. I remember learning about it around second grade, and for weeks afterwards that was all we did. We played Rock-paper-scissors on the bus, on the playground, during lunch, and in class. We played it so much that our teachers told us to stop playing it, which only increased its vogue. To a second grader, and even to older kids, there's nothing cooler than a game that can be played anywhere with no props whatsoever. Rock-paper-scissors was popular for a very long time... until we learned about thumb wars.

Reason number two Roshambo works is that it doesn't make any sense at all. Clearly, these inanimate objects would never fight in real life and if they did, paper would be at a distinct disadvantage if only because of its molecular structure. Paper just can't stand up to steel or rock. As for the scissors-rock match-up, it's a toss-up if you're talking about which is stronger. A rock, however, could certainly ruin the scissors and make them unusable for cutting. I give the overall advantage to rock, but the game of Roshambo doesn't see it that way. Instead, it recognizes the underlying ubiquity of the universe. We're all just atoms and victory doesn't necessarily depend on strength. Sometimes paper wins.

This brings me to my last point. Rock-paper-scissors in intrinsically fair. No one element always wins, and since there are only three things to choose from, the ability to develop strategic prowess is limited. Novices have as much chance of randomly picking the winning element as experts. It solves inequalities in skill, physicality, intelligence, and social standing. There are no advantages for any single player save luck, and that is truly what makes it such an elegant solution to deciding classroom disagreements. Not to mention that often arguments like who should go first can be forgotten in the fun of Roshambo!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Boys and Girls


In a favorite Salt Lake City shop, I recently found two books. The Boys Book, and The Girls Book. Both of these books carried the subtitle, How to Be the Best at Everything. The Boys Book is divided into chapters with titles like “How to Rip a Phone Book in Half” or “How to Do an Ollie.” The Girls Book has a decidedly different focus. Chapters include “How to Explain Why You Are Late for School” and “How to Make Your Own Luxury Bubble Bath.” My question for readers this week is this: Is it okay to treat boys and girls differently?


As an experienced educator, I realize that there are differences in the way boys and girls behave, how they relate to each other, and how they are affected by developmental changes. If one were to generalize about how boys and girls act, one might say that boys tend to be more aggressive, more competitive, and more prone to act out. Girls might be said to be more diplomatic, involved in complex social interactions, more eager to be friends with the teacher.


Whether or not we choose to accept these assumptions now, they were overwhelmingly present while I was growing up, and I sense that they are still accepted by a large segment of the population here in Salt Lake City and in many other places in the United States. I've seen many children live into stereotypes about gender--eight-year-old boys concerned with nothing more than monster trucks and wrestling and young girls who wear high heels to elementary school and are eager to let me know that more people would like me if I combed my hair-- But where do these assumptions come from? Are they valid observations about how children of different genders tend to act, or are we, in fact, observing the outcomes of pervasive social norms that are pressed on our children by the media, the society we live in, our families, and ourselves?


I think there is strong evidence that though boys and girls do develop differently on a fundamental level, they are also being pressed into rigid social patterns that tend to dictate how boys and girls are allowed to act... with far reaching and detrimental consequences.


I recently read a story about a 15-year-old boy being sent home from school for wearing a dress. School officials claimed it was distracting. No doubt it was. My own experience with wearing non-traditional clothing is that it usually garners some unwanted attention. In Kiribati, where my wife and I were stationed in the Peace Corps, men wore bees (pronounced bays) which were long strips of cloth wrapped around the waist. When I wear the traditional garment here, in the U.S., I am usually accused of wearing a skirt.


I don't think people mean to be biased. Probably they are simply taken aback by unusual behavior and can't help but comment. I'm sure it was the same reaction fellow students had when they saw their male classmate in a dress in the example above. Although it's natural to remark on unusual behavior, it seems, to me, that such a disruptive reaction may be an alarming example of just how closed off our society is. Boys simply do not wear girl's clothing... and they do not behave like girls. How often have we heard the insult “You throw like a girl!” or conversely “You smell like a boy!” Our children's behaviors are influenced by this sort of language without any conscious effort on our part as teachers or parents. And there are other, less harmless attitudes and behaviors that come out of this kind of thinking. A video commemorating the 17th anniversary of the violence against women act noted that in a 2009 study, 25% of sixth graders, boys and girls, thought it was “acceptable for boys to hit girls.” No one formally teaches an attitude like that, but it's one of the messages our children seem to be picking up.


Next question: Is there any way to break the pattern?


I think that children are not innately prejudiced, and it's up to us, as parents and educators, to make sure they stay that way. Here's one small example of a school that's doing it right. Playworks Coach Raven at Stansbury Elementary School relates this story.


When I first started working at my school, I noticed everyone enjoyed jumping rope--boys and girls. I had one 6th grade boy who really wanted to jump but did not know how. I spent time showing him how to do it and kept checking in on him when I made my recess rounds. By the end of recess he had it down. He came up after the bell rang and gave me a hive-five and a "Thanks Coach!" The next day at recess, I saw him teaching other students how to jump using the same pointers I gave him.


When I was in school, I would've been called some pretty bad names for jumping rope with the girls. No one, it seems, told this young man that “jump rope is for girls”, however, and for that, I say well done to Coach Raven and to Stansbury. It's small acts like this one, that have the power to turn things around. Keep up the good work.


Monday, October 3, 2011

Preparing Children

"When we adults think of children, there is a simple truth which we ignore: childhood is not preparation for life, childhood is life. A child isn't getting ready to live - a child is living. The child is constantly confronted with the nagging question, "What are you going to be?" Courageous would be the youngster who, looking the adult squarely in the face, would say, "I'm not going to be anything; I already am." We adults would be shocked by such an insolent remark for we have forgotten, if indeed we ever knew, that a child is an active participating and contributing member of society from the time he is born. Childhood isn't a time when he is molded into a human who will then live life; he is a human who is living life. No child will miss the zest and joy of living unless these are denied him by adults who have convinced themselves that childhood is a period of preparation.
How much heartache we would save ourselves if we would recognize the child as a partner with adults in the process of living, rather than always viewing him as an apprentice. How much we would teach each other...adults with the experience and children with the freshness. How full both our lives could be. A little child may not lead us, but at least we ought to discuss the trip with him for, after all, life is his and her journey, too." - Professor T. Ripaldi


I found this quote on a blog by Lisa Sunbury about infants and toddlers which you can find here, and it got me thinking. How much time do we, as educators, spend “preparing” kids for the next step. Each grade from preschool through college professes to be preparing us for something. Kindergarten for first grade, first for second, middle school for high school, high school for college, college for work. By the time we are done being prepared for life, much of it has gone by.

Am I suggesting that children and, indeed, adults should disregard the future to focus entirely on the present? No, I think a certain amount of attention must be spent thinking about the future, but the word preparation seems to imply certain things about the future; the fact that we know what the future holds, for example, which we do not. Instead of shaping students to fit precisely into a narrow definition of what we believe the future holds, shouldn't we be allowing their natural shapes, their proclivities and curiosities to dictate, at least in part, what they will become, what they will learn and how? And if that is true, doesn't that mean that we should respect the varied and wonderful people students have already become, the people they are?

Shouldn't our lessons be aimed at showing them how to dream the future?

This kind of teaching and learning has to do with creativity, with awareness, and with attention, I think. Students should be trained to be aware of their own innate gifts, abilities, and limitations. Teachers should be trained to be aware of who their students are and attentive to their individual needs. Both should be working together to find a path towards a full and rewarding future.


In the best classrooms this is already happening, teachers are engaged in bringing out their students' best selves, but the classroom is only one area where growth and learning takes place. There are other environments, home and the playground, where learning can be fostered, and one of the best outlets for student creativity is through play, through movement, through the body.


Often, adults think of play as an activity that takes away from time spent doing worthwhile activities. What are those activities? Shopping? Work? Making money? Money to do what...

Play is an end in itself. Kids understand that, I think. They know that this is what it's all about, sprinting flat out after a ball, or the cathartic feeling that lifts their spirits after sinking a three-pointer, or the sense of community that comes with working together with a group of people towards a common goal, of playing with each other.

In a very real sense, kids know how to be... if we have the courage to let them.