Transcend Pretend
Not surprising, I know, but I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around the current coronavirus reality.
On the one hand, we all know we’re in dire danger. Physically, from the coronavirus. Mentally, from the stress of uncertainty and from too much isolation — or togetherness. And financially, from the economic shutdown. That is the reality.
On the other hand, life for many of us teachers proceeds basically unchanged. Sure, we’re staying at home. Yes, many of us are juggling domestic and child care responsibilities with professional obligations. (What I would call doing the impossible — but haven’t working mothers been doing this forever already?) We’re washing our hands for 20 seconds at least a million times a day. (Doesn’t 20 seconds now seem really short? This hand-washing experience lends a whole new meaning to “wait time.” Do you suppose teachers in the future will be much more comfortable waiting three seconds — hell, 10 seconds? 20 seconds? — for students to think through and offer their answers to questions?)
And we’re going on teaching. Recognizing that reality has changed, but pretending that it hasn’t — that teaching can proceed as usual, just online. With a few adjustments. By entering into a space where young children are not playing in the next room, where students will (and even can!) do what you ask of them, where you feel comfortable running the show through a computer screen with software that confuses and an internet connection that crashes at will.
This, it seems to me, is the
pretend reality.
A reality, in short, that is so novel and uncertain that we have no choice but to pretend the old ways of thinking and being and doing are still relevant — when, in fact, they’re not. At least, not when it comes to teaching.
When it comes to teaching, I think we need to transcend pretend.
But how? I have suggested this way and that way. In this post, I’d like to respectfully offer a few brief examples of how teachers might transcend pretend just in case the examples help.
For ELA: The change you want to see in your first grade students is simply that they have “read” at least 20 more books. The action you choose to make that possible is to record yourself reading 20 books out loud. (Is that legal? Yes, according to this source.) The technology you choose to use is youtube (where you can make an almost private classroom channel).
For a foreign language: The change you want to see in your third-year Spanish students is that their listening, reading, speaking, and writing skills improve. (Duh.) The action you choose to make that possible is to have them watch two to three movies in Spanish and do listening and speaking exercises with the videos and reading and writing exercises with the screenplays. (Don’t know where to even start? Try here. Prepare to be amazed and excited.) The technology you choose is, once again, youtube for the movies, Marco Polo (or some such) for student recordings, and zoom for paired meetings between students (where they discuss the films) and check-ins with you.
For English: The change you want to see in your 10th grade students is the ability to form and adequately express opinions. The action you choose to make that possible is to have them outline and write reviews of texts of their choosing: a novel, a movie, a Super Bowl advertisement, a video game (at least one that they love and at least one that they hate). The technology you choose (over and above the technology you probably already use for paper submission and feedback) is email, whereby students send their work back and forth to each other for formative feedback before you (and they?) read final drafts.
For math: The change you want to see in your senior calculus students is joyful engagement with the subject matter. (Now is your chance to make this your central learning objective!) The action you choose to make that possible is to assign Colin Adams’s book Zombies & Calculus. The technology you use is Audible so your students can read the book for free (if they sign up for a free trial) and vimeo or youtube for recorded lectures that you craft in anticipation of and response to what your students need as they move through the book.
For a lab course: Damned if I know. But here’s an article that might help. If, as you’re reading it, your eyes glaze over as fast as mine did, consider, once again, the basic question: How do you want your students to be different by the end of this lab course? Do you want them to be able to describe and compare, I don’t know, microscopic organisms? Maybe take pictures through your microscope (using this nifty little gadget) of organisms you would have had the students look at in person and post them in Google classroom. Then give students prompts (also in Google classroom) for what to do with the pictures. Do you want students to learn how to prepare samples and/or use particular instruments and/or undertake an experiment? Maybe make or post a video of yourself doing these things and insert questions students have to answer, like “What should I do next?” or “What would happen if I did this?” (Here’s how.)
Of course, I am not a subject matter expert.
Nor am I you.
So I’m just spitballing here. I cannot insist that these ideas will work for you (or anybody). But I can highly recommend that you get down, dirty, basic, and fun with your design. And with your reality.
If you need it,
I hereby give you permission
to transcend pretend and define your reality so that it’s simple, feasible, enjoyable, and fundamentally beneficial to you, your family, and your students in this most unusual of times.
As always, I am here to help.
And thanks to my amazing teacher friends who provided some of the technologies and teaching approaches I suggest in this post. You are awesome!!