Jill Jensen IDEAS

A friend on twitter reminded me that there is beauty in the space between knowing and not knowing. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since his reminder. As much as I try to embrace the ‘yes, and’ mindset, I find myself trying to sneak in a ‘yes, but’. What I’m realizing is that it comes down to control – maybe power?- and who has it.

The first time I used @Ed_by_design’s quote was doing design challenges with students and I don’t know how things were going to turn out or if they would turn out. There was anxiety and uncertainty. For me, this is the ‘fun’ kind of anxiety. The direction things take is in the hands of the students. But, I could argue that I am in control as I direct/guide/assist them towards their goal with hints, tricks, resources, tips and helpful group members. I still have control when I see things going south to put on the brakes and re-group.

When I decided I needed a change in my career and took a leap of faith, I didn’t know how things were going to turn out. There was more anxiety here. It’s still a bit of the good kind though as I tend to welcome change and thrive on challenges. As I have learned, some changes don’t turn out as expected, but still provide a chance to learn. Recovery can happen and I am lucky enough to be in a district where other options exist. While the timeline is quite different from a classroom challenge, the control of living in or removing myself from the situation was mine.

Currently, I am in this waiting game to find out how the ‘20-’21 school year will look and I have no control at all. The governor is due to decide July 30th. This is a very different version of living between knowing and not knowing and I’m not such a fan. At times, I have an internal monologue that includes: ‘There is nothing to worry about until there is something to worry about; enjoy the time while you have it’. But then I see tweets like: “you’ve had 3 months to prepare for distance learning, what have you done?” When I share my concern with colleagues, I’m told not to worry, we’ll work as a team and get it figured out. And I can’t help but think ‘Yes, but…’; and ‘What if…’ Right now, I’m not seeing beauty in this space. This alone has given me a lot to think about. If I only embrace ambiguity when I have control, does that really count?

This uncertainty and uncomfortable feeling of lack of control has also given me pause and time to reflect on my practice.  How many times do my students feel like this? Do I really give up control enough as a teacher so they feel as if they have control over their situation? How am I building the capacity for students to be comfortable with the anxiety and can see it as the ‘fun kind’? Do I create a sense (even unintentional) that they have no control?

Garreth also shared a great article by Margaret Wheatly with some great reminders for me. Multiple lines jumped out at me: “I find that the first step to becoming curious is to admit that I’m not succeeding in figuring things out alone.” I was reminded of this all too clearly this past year as I endeavored to change a decades old system. This was in stark contrast to the past years where everything was done in collaboration. It was easy to forget that the changes in curriculum and methods created in the past did not happen overnight but evolved through constant conversations and trust which had been built.

I think the part that really grabbed my heart though was: “We can’t be creative if we refuse to be confused. Change always starts with confusion; cherished interpretations must dissolve to make way for the new. Of course it’s scary to give up what we know, but the abyss is where newness lives. Yet if we move through the fear and enter the abyss, we rediscover we’re creative.” There is a certain level of newness as I return to my roots of middle school science instruction after a 13 year break.  I can trust and believe in myself and that I will create a way forward for my students no matter what the format. I know I will not succeed alone and have colleagues that will work through challenges with me.

I also have to remember that this quote was not written during a pandemic. Moving ‘through the fear and enter(ing) the abyss’ has a whole new meaning as I wait for a distant lawmaker to decide what is safe for me and my students and what school will or won’t look like. I’m trying to be optimistic that we can be creative with constraints, yet I just keep feeling like time is ticking away from us.

I’m floundering. I’ve been avoiding writing, which is my form of reflection, avoiding planning, avoiding work of almost any kind. I feel like I should be doing so much. I feel tired but I have no reason to be. I feel restless, but unable to focus.  To Do lists help with my day to day tasks: make the car appointment, order daughter her oboe book, request library book etc.. But the bigger ideas and thoughts are uselessly swimming in my head, making me feel foggy.

Last year was hard – even before a pandemic. I took a leap and did a belly flop. My grand visions and big dreams slowly shrank and eventually evaporated. Worse, the imposter syndrome, that I thought I had put to bed, woke up and had doubled in size. ‘See, you can’t do this,’ ‘You really were fooling people after all’ became my internal monologue. This was all I could hear, to the point that in order to not hear it anymore I decided to quit. Don’t get me wrong, I finished out the school year – well until school was canceled- and found a home back in a former building. I’ll be back teaching middle school science in the fall (well, we’ll see what the coronavirus says about that).

Four months later, I am able to recognize what I could have done differently and reflect on the successes I did have, which were so hard to see in the moment. I am still reckoning with the internal monologue of “I gave up and quit”. Giving up is not in my nature. Perseverance is a trait I claim, but how can I claim that now when I gave up after five months?

I wonder if I should do something different. I find myself searching EdD programs and Technology Integration certificate programs. I have Teach Yourself Python bookmarked, as well as How To Program using SWIFT.  I also have numerous tabs (and windows) open with webinars waiting to be watched. A stack of books by my bed keeps getting taller. I’m seeing people on social media doing 30 days of SCRATCH challenges, developing Micro:bit projects and whole courses. Meanwhile, I feel like I have lost my mojo.

I am trying to retrain my brain into: “I tried something new, it did not go as expected. I will learn from my mistakes as I move forward in my new role”. It is hard. I’m trying to enjoy family time, that will soon be numbered. I am trying to take this pause as a true pause and tell myself it’s ok to re-charge, and ok to let go and ok to start over. It’s hard.

Awhile ago I came across this article on twitter:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/petergreene/2019/06/08/dear-teachers-please-dont-make-your-lessons-relevant/#4c5aa11552f5

It reminded me of a science conference I went to years ago about animal dissections. The speaker challenged the participants to know their why for (or against) dissection and own it. His advice stuck with me. I deeply considered the pros and cons and refined my opinion to form my solid why. It came in handy multiple times, but mostly for myself. It felt refreshing, almost freeing to have this thing that I knew I could speak to without hesitation.

Looking back, the rest of my why of instruction was never as focused or clear. Maybe because I was teaching six different grade levels three different branches of science while also navigating how to integrate these with elementary reading curriculum. I think the closest I came was when I took a year to refocus my energy around outdoor learning and my roots of environmental education. My why came from a quote that I can’t seem to trace back to its origin: “You can’t protect what you don’t love and you can’t love something if you don’t know it.” It became part of my mission to at least expose my students to the outdoors and help them ‘know’ it, hoping that many, or at least some, would love it.

In 2012 I started taking courses at the University of St. Thomas in St.Paul for the Certificate of Engineering for Educators program. I learned about Cains Arcade (http://cainesarcade.com/) at the same time I learned about FabLabs. Knowing that tools existed that could turn ideas into reality struck a chord in me. The content and skills I learned in this program expanded my knowledge of what was possible in education.

I wasn’t able to put into words until after my fellowship at the Teachers Guild. While immersing myself in a Design Thinking project my why became clear: I believe every person is capable of having a positive influence in the world. I believe my students to hold in them the power of positive change. I want to help them see what they are capable of. This is my passion and drive and it only took my 24 years to figure out! I don’t regret and wouldn’t take back my time as a science teacher. I loved it and had a positive impact on students, as far as I can tell. I learned many skills and processes and taught alongside fabulous educators that also taught me many things.

Fast forward to my current situation: I have left the position I’ve been in for twelve years to start something new. I’m starting my 25th year of teaching in a totally unfamiliar building with many tools that I have some skill with, but certainly have not mastered. I’ve left a title that I felt defined me for the last twenty-four years to embrace my why. While this transition was summarized in three paragraphs, it has not been easy or a quick decision. Change is hard. Shifting your vision is tricky. Leaving your comfort zone is frightening. But. I feel confident that this was the right decision. I’m sure I’ll have many hard times, many things that won’t work the way I imagined and times that will be outright frustrating. But something else I’m sure about is my why.

I’ve been thinking a lot about identity lately. I have been a teacher – specifically a science teacher- for 24 years. I love my job and am passionate about many aspects of this career: teaching through inquiry, being a part of the discovery process with students, connecting ideas to larger concepts and seeing our role in the greater world. I also enjoy talking about my work with others. Secretly, I am pleased with the admiration others would give when learning about my job. I also found there was some privilege built into the title. I could explain away the random assortment of items in my cart at hardware stores and grocery stores. I could also talk my way into donations. The “I’m a science teacher” line got me occasional discounts, random free admission and one time a whole sleeve of condiment cups.

But for awhile now I’ve been diverging from the path of ‘true’ science. What started as a dabbling into engineering due to new science standards evolved into an embrace of technology and maker-ed mindsets. Thanks to the encouragement of people like Deb Besser and Annmarie Thomas, I developed new projects, adding a building component and engineering for every grade level. I wrote grants to secure coding and programming tools for staff and students to integrate across curriculum. I told my story and dream to parents to get donations of tools, equipment and funds.

Then I got hooked into design thinking due to a fellowship from the Teachers Guild. While my previous interests and experiments took me down a side path, I could still see the original road I had been on. But design thinking has really pushed me to face a fork in the road. I’ve had a dream about how to meld all of these separate pieces into a cohesive whole. But trying to tell someone else what they could do doesn’t always work. I had reached the point where in order to show my vision, I had to be the one to do it. I had to be the change.

An opportunity came up to teach tech-ed at the middle school level and I realized this was it. It was now or never, walk the walk or stay in my lane. I decided to take the plunge. I met with the building administrators and told them my vision: I want students to build with inspiration, to feel connected to a bigger community, that technology is a tool that can create meaningful and useful products and that students have the power to have a positive impact on the world. Next thing you know, I’ve got a new job for next year!

When I was able to start sharing my news with others. I faced a reality I hadn’t considered. The comment that hit me hardest was: “You mean you aren’t going to be a science teacher anymore?” Boom, sucker punch to the gut. I didn’t have an answer. I also realized that not only did I have my identity wrapped up in my job, but I had embraced it so wholeheartedly that others viewed my job and me as one and the same.

It’s tempting to feel guilty that I became my job, but I don’t. I see it as passion. I have just as much passion for my new position. However the title doesn’t currently lend itself to inspire others. What I’ve realized is the title invokes a memory in others that has mixed emotions. I’ve also realized this is part of my new task. My job is to be true to my passion and vision and as a side effect create a new reality for what this coursework implies. The dream now is to be able to tell people ‘I’m a tech ed teacher’ and have the response be: Wow! That’s awesome! I’m going to steal my identity back.

I was recently asked to contribute to the NSTA Early Years Blog. I am pleased to share the post that was recently published on their website:

http://nstacommunities.org/blog/2019/01/15/rolling-from-inquiry-into-engineering-design/

I enjoyed taking the time to write about this experience. I also found myself thinking about additional experiences and questions that could be explored or documented from this:

• Add some data collection by having students leave each item where it lands, letting us see which one rolls the furthest.
• Offering additional shapes to test and inquire about
• Have another grade 3D print some shapes to observe and test

Writing this article was also a good reminder for me to take time and reflect. Something I see as so vital to the process for students should be just as vital for myself.

Usually by now, I am having students use found nature items to make a boat, or looking for symmetry in nature. But this year, we had a two hour delayed start due to fourteen more inches of snow just this past Monday – April 16th! This has forced a bit more creativity in outdoor lesson planning. I don’t mind repeating lessons, and think it’s good for kids to experience the same learning, but at a different time of year. This allows us to compare what happened previously to our most recent adventure as well as note how weather/seasons affects our observations and learning. But, it makes it tricky to repeat a lesson if the seasons won’t change.

This week, as were considering what to do, we decided to try something different. We’ve been noticing lots of snow eating throughout the year and while we discourage it, you know it keeps happening. You and I understand why it might not be the best idea, but we realized that to a kid, we are just another adult telling them to stop doing something they love. We thought the best way to help kids understand the why was with science.

Before going out, we talked about locations we might want to check as well as what things might be in snow. We came up with nine locations we were curious about, and students brainstormed a pretty accurate list of what we might find: dirt, sand, scat, salt etc… This also opened up the door for me to introduce pH as a piece of data we can add to our observations. I did a very general overview of the scale, how pH paper worked and demonstrated on tap water to show neutral. Then, we packed up and headed out.

Despite the recent snow, we noticed that spring was working hard to pop out. There was way more bird activity than previous weeks. We also noticed the huge amounts of salt on our sidewalks, particularly by the flagpole. As we continued our walk, we noticed how crunchy the snow was on top, how deep the snow still was and places that looked like clean snow.

Once we got into the forest, it became apparent that many other animals are ready for spring to come too! The deer apparently like using our trail as much as we do. We found evidence of two way traffic even. Was one in the morning and one at night? Was it the same deer or different deer? We also found lots of squirrel and rabbit tracks, saw chickadees, nuthatches, juncos, and even a woodpecker. Part way down the trail we also found a huge flattened out section of snow covered in clumps of fur next to a stick that had clearly been chewed on.

We paused at this spot for quite awhile, letting students speculate about what animal it might have come from and what might have caused so much fur to come off. It was super interesting to me how many students jumped right to beaver because of the chew marks, despite being a good mile from a pond. We also had recently spotted a bald eagle around our school yard, leading some to wonder if the eagle had a lunch. At the end of the trail we even found some goose prints in the snow – a first for me.

All of these finds, questions, wonderings and guesses reminded me again of the wonderment caused by simply being outside and paying attention to where you are. I don’t regret having our plan, in fact Mrs. Lyons followed up with students the following day and found some interesting results with the snow we collected.

However, I was reminded yet again that sometimes the best lessons aren’t the ones we plan but the ones we discover. While our main purpose was to be out collecting snow, students also got a chance to observe sights, sounds and textures, find patterns, make guesses, ask questions and wonder. These are all good skills to have, but seeing them practiced and used in such an authentic setting make them seem even more valuable. I shouldn’t be surprised any more by our surprise finds or side bar learning, but somehow I always am. I guess a good surprise never gets old for me.

Last week I brought a first grade class outside to build on some recent work they had done around settings. To get them excited about seeing the outdoor classroom through a different lens, we used the Creaturizer App from PBS Kids http://pbskids.org/apps/plums-creaturizer.html

On this app, kids tap to both create and modify an imaginary creature. Each body part is able to be switched out (legs, tail, wings, mouth, head, horns etc…). I modeled how to do this before taking the iPads outside. We also brainstormed together the parts that might make sense to keep in a forest setting. For example, a duck bill wouldn’t be helpful since we don’t have a body of water in our forest. Once a final creature design is made, students are given four missions to place their creature in a setting to meet a specific challenge. Examples included, Where would your creature build a nest? Where could your creature hide? The fun part is the creature appears on the screen while the camera is open so you can put your creature in a tree, under a leaf, on the ground etc… You can also two finger pinch the creature to change the size or tilt the creature to position it just right.

Students had a lot of fun placing them, searching for the just right spot along the way. After the four missions were completed, I had told students we were done, close the iPad and enjoy the rest of the walk in nature. A lot of snow had melted since the last time we had walked our path so many oak leaves were now visible as well as the bare forest floor. In addition, I had noticed much more bird activity since our last outdoor visit and was hoping students would notice this as well. However, instead many students went back to the app, made a second creature and did four more missions.

While we walked,  I noticed many students with their attention focused on the iPad rather than the path. I didn’t stop anyone from doing this, just simply my observation. As I reflected on this, I feel conflicted about this occurrence. On one hand, students were clearly enjoying themselves. They found the challenges engaging and novel enough to want to do it again. We were still outside and they were looking at our setting and finding places their creature could fit. On the other hand, students were so focused on their screens that they walked right by sights and sounds they could have been noticing. Rather than looking up and around and hearing, I saw a line full of kids that looked like adults checking their phones as they walk down the sidewalk.

We have taken iPads outside before and I didn’t notice this behavior. Maybe it’s because other times we were outside only to use the camera and had to use our eyes first to find what to snap a picture of. Our district is in the process of rolling out 1:1 technology. Next year, fourth and fifth graders will have their own iPads. As I look through lists of ‘nature apps’ to consider using with students (https://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/stories/19-apps-that-will-turn-you-into-a-wilderness-expert) it makes me think more carefully about what I might use. More specifically, this experience has made me consider not just the what, but the how, the why as well as the before, during and after.

I was doing so well at writing these posts to help me reflect and document this year, then suddenly it’s April and three weeks have passed. Ok, well only two weeks of school since spring break was in there. And even though it’s April, I am sitting in bed with the cats at my feet nearing the end of my fourth snow day of the year -a new record for me. So it felt like the perfect time to do some catching up.

This school year I had committed to having a focus on outdoor learning. Part of this decision came from an internal desire to see our school yard used better, part of it came from the Teachers Guild Fellowship I was awarded last summer and part came from my need to shake up curriculum a bit (get out of a rut). Focusing on finding ways to use out outdoor spaces sometimes has taken work and many times meant trying new ideas for the first time.

In the midst of winter, it is also easy to slip back into old ways and do lessons that were known and comfortable. But the nice thing about making your goals public – for me that meant sharing my intention at an all staff meeting at the beginning of the year- is that your colleagues end up holding you accountable; sometimes in unexpected and unintended ways. It was a actually a conversation with our art teacher, about some topic I don’t even remember the details of now, where she casually mentioned me going outside. It literally made me do a double take – That’s right, I should be going outside.

So I found a way to make it happen. I had been working with the second grade team on a mitten experiment, but one teacher was also ready to try something else. We started by heading outside to record the temperature of different surfaces in our outdoor classroom: wood benches, snow, dirt, rocks, blacktop. We also did each surface twice, once in a shady spot and once in a sunny spot. On this particular day, it was fairly overcast so not easy to tell where the sunny or shady spots were. Back inside we shared data and found some unexpected results. The wooden benches were reading warmer than the asphalt. We brainstormed a number of possible explanations.

However, the conversation also got more interesting when students also shared other observations they had from outside, including how the snow is more gone around the trees than in open spots. This led students to hypothesize that trees might give off heat just like humans give off body heat. It’s conversations like this that make me love my job. My response was: Let’s find out!

We decided we should test the soil temperature this time rather than surface (so the temperature probe would be placed in the ground rather than resting flat on top). We also decided that to prove if we were right we’d need to take the temperature not just by the tree but moving out from the trunk as well. We also decided to collect data from two sides of the trunk and move out a meter each time. If our idea was right, we’d see the warmest temperatures near the trunk and it would get colder as we got further away.

The next day we bundled up, headed out and found two trees to use – one pine and one ash so we could also see if leaves made a difference. It was a little more challenging than anticipated and found several spots where the ground was frozen pretty solid, not letting us insert the temperature probe very far. It also happened to start sleeting on us while we were out, making it hard to focus and observe, but we got our data and headed in.

Our data was inconclusive, but it led to a great discussion about how to find patterns in data and how much change we would have needed to see to tell if there was a pattern. It also led to a great follow up discussion, that if trees don’t give off ‘body’ heat, how else can we explain why there is more snow gone around the trees.

This lesson served as a great reminder to me of a number of components of my job:

1. It’s fun and challenging to be open to unexpected results. In fact, this whole lesson was not at all what I had planned. I had thought we’d use the temperature data the first day to do an ice cube melting investigation. But the students noticed something else and had genuine wonderings and I LOVE that I got to witness that and be a part of their discovery. I think in the end more true learning came from them testing out their own idea than would have come from me directing them.
2. It takes time and energy to keep up with a goal. In some ways I had to be reminded that I was supposed to be changing things this year. I appreciate the flexibility of my schedule as well as my family as I spend a lot of time researching and thinking about how to make these changes.
3. I’ve heard people reference making your goals public before, but this really hit home for me after this experience. If I had simply thought about doing more outdoor lessons and kept that to myself, this lesson might never have happened.

So, if you’ve actually read this far let me be the friendly reminder to you. What did you want to work on changing this year?

 

We had a staff development day on Friday and I was lucky enough to be given 90 minutes to share ideas with my colleagues. For nearly a year now, we have had a focus on the 4 C’s of learning: Critical thinking, Communication, Collaboration and Creativity. A variety of resources have been used throughout the year to lead us toward a greater understanding of how these skills might look in our school and classrooms, including: Design thinking, such as: The foil challenge from Stanford Design school, Science Formative Assessments by Page Keeley and most recently Intention the Book.

I’m always excited to have an opportunity to share ideas with colleagues, but I was exceptionally enthusiastic about the time I had planned on Friday. Sometimes the right resource hits you at the right time, and the ideas are also just what colleagues need to hear at that time. I feel like there should be a word for that, serendipity doesn’t quite fit, convergence… mind meld….. Dan and Amy, the authors of Intention the Book,  actually say it best: Serendipitous moments grant a pause and defy grammar.

For me and my colleagues, this book presented a perfect avenue to blend our themes of art and science. The activities in the book also gave us a good reminder that integrating arts in our curriculum doesn’t always have to mean stopping instruction and having everyone paint or learn about an artist. Likewise, integrating science doesn’t always have to mean leading a structured, data collection investigation. Art can be legos, oreos, and graphic design and when completed with a science concept or topic in mind can be a powerful way to show understanding.

  

As you can tell from my gushing, this book really spoke to me. The ideas conveyed in the book helped confirm that I might actually be moving in a good direction with recent changes I’ve been making in curriculum and projects. I also felt not so alone in the big wide world of teaching after reading this book. Finally, what I think I liked the most was that it helped me name or label the ‘thing’ I’ve been thinking about all year, which is What if…  What if we tried teaching science like we teach art? What if we try teaching art like we do science? What if we tried teaching a topic through our outdoor spaces? What if we had kids decide what to show that they learned? What if we tried this piece of technology with this lesson?

I realized as I was finalizing slides and supplies and ideas to share that it’s the What If in my world that makes me love not only my job, but my life. Being open to possibilities and new ideas is a joyful way to live, and I hope I share that with people around me.

Last week, I worked with a colleague to participate in #kindergartenbioblitz. This week long adventure to get kindergarten students outside paying attention to their world was started by Rob Ridley in Ontario, Canada. I came across it by chance on twitter and it seemed like a good chance to get kids outside and get connected to other classes.

We had a great week exploring different parts of our school yard. The focus theme each day inspired us to dig deeper into our surroundings and pay attention to what is surrounding us. The weather even cooperated, making our outside time that much more enjoyable. Happy birds were singing, the recent snow was melting like crazy and the sky was brilliant.

The learning that took place this week went beyond the daily lessons. We started each lesson by checking the hashtag on twitter to see what other kids had found and shared. These glimpses into other classrooms and other parts of the world was one way to have students experience the way our world is interconnected. Understanding that we are part of a bigger community of learners is a pretty big idea to grasp for a five or six year old.

I was excited to share this use of twitter with kids, to let them see the positive potential of this platform. I benefit from the global community on twitter daily. The educators, scientists, individuals and organizations I follow and interact with inspire me and educate me. I feel a little more connected, a little less alone, a part of something bigger when I see others experimenting with the same technology that I have or trying similar strategies. This, in turn inspires me to share and interact more. Maybe I can be the person that helps someone else feel connected and be inspired. And isn’t that what it’s all about, finding ways to feel like you helped make the world a better place.