Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Hey guys, sorry this took so long to get to. Life has been rather crazy. Switching jobs, babysitting a hyperactive Scottish Terrier, and all the regular stuff on top of that. That said, hopefully this post makes up for it. While I did not use this script exactly in my chunk of my group's WestCAST presentation, it is mostly what I went from. I used it more like cue cards than anything else, but it does contain the points that I wanted to hit while talking, so it's all there. What you're missing is the visual component of the talk, as I had a bunch of slides to go with this as well. Some funny, some serious, but whatever. That's what you get for not being at WestCAST. I'm just going to post this whole script now, so hopefully you don't mind (what is in OpenOffice, anyway) a 5 page read. Enjoy!



On Dishonesty
In gathering my thoughts for this workshop that has descended on me with what feels like the force of a particularly impatient freight train, I forced myself to think about the various reasons why science bored me in school and why it fascinates me now. Unfortunately, this fascination emerged during the course of a degree in philosophy with practically no scientific background, so sadly too late to pursue this in any kind of formal setting, at least until after I finish what I'm working on now. Despite this, I find myself reading scientific articles in my recreational time, rather than all of those great works that, as an aspiring English teacher, some would expect me to know cover to cover (first edition if possible). As I have meditated on this issue, it has become apparent to me that it may not actually be the science itself that interests me, rather the concept of it. Man, do I ever sound like a philosophy major now, huh? It's true though. The story of science is not one merely of discovery or fact or the natural, observable world. The story of science is one of turmoil; one of constant upheaval and debate. People have died for their beliefs. Some, with lacklustre safety habits, have died from them. It is this passion, this fervour, and this constant struggle to be more right than the other guy that fascinates me. It just so happens that in reading up on all of this stuff, you learn all sorts of things about what they were more right about. How then, do I expect myself to (as the thought experiment that brought me into this project asked) teach science to a class of ninth grade students? After a great deal of thought and no small amount of soul searching, I hit on a simple idea that I think could really get people interested: lie to your students.

Now, I don't mean a big lie. Any small one will do. What is important here is that they feel the flow of science; the debate that makes the whole thing so interesting. I was asked to prepare an activity for this that would demonstrate this plan to you people, but realized quite quickly that this was a fool's errand. I have a lesson plan that I could (and will) give you, but it is more proof-of-concept than anything else. Besides, it's a lesson plan for what you could do over the course of, say, a week. It's not the subject matter of the lesson that is really important though, and I want to stress that up front. What is important is the structure of the lesson. We start with a small lie on Monday, and hopefully by the end of the week we have a class impatient to debate and with a renewed (or even brand new) interest in science. I looked over the ninth grade Alberta science curriculum and chose a unit nearly at random. I only needed to find something that I could create a small-ish (but important) plausible lie around. I chose a lesson from Chemistry. By the end of the unit, students are expected to have tested out all sorts of things about solutions. One of these is that as a solvent heats up, more solute is (in the vast majority of cases) able to be dissolved in it. A simple fact, one that I'm sure you all remember from back in the day, but also one that is not readily apparent to most people before being told this. So why not twist it a little bit?

MONDAY
On Monday we have our first lesson. The unit is beginning and, like most teachers, we tell our class a few basic points about what we'll be studying over the next few classes. Simple stuff, like what solutes and solvents are, the effect that stirring (of course, being proper scientists, we will call it “agitation”) has on the amount of solute that can be dissolved in a solvent, and the well known fact that as a solvent cools, more solute can be added to it (and vice-versa for warming and less). We can give examples for these. As you put sugar into a cup of water and stir it, the sugar dissolves. Water is, after all, the universal solvent. We can also say that as water cools it takes up more space. This is why you should not put a completely full bottle of water in the freezer; it will crack it. Naturally, as water expands as it cools, there is more room for a solute to fit in it, so we explain that as water cools it can hold more. I assume I don't need to point out the lie here. Hopefully, having an explanation for why this “fact” is true is enough to convince your students. I am honestly not sure if I'd explain the why at this point if not questioned on it or just let the “fact” stand on its own. These are things that can only really be worked out by trying it in the field. It is, of course, hard to tell exactly how something like this will unfold in a hypothetical. Ideally, the phony explanation will only need to be used if students are (rightly) sceptical of what you're telling them. Otherwise, they will just take notes and, as has become habit in science classes, either accept or ignore what we tell them. Towards the end of the lesson, we announce that there will be a lab the next day on the subject of solutions.

TUESDAY
Tuesday we will have our lab, demonstrating different ways to speed the dissolving of different substances in water and testing which of our range of solutes are actually water-soluble. Students will be attempting to dissolve various solutes in water. As they do so, they will adjust variables such as agitation and temperature and record the differences in the speed of dissolution and amount of solute that can be added before saturation. While doing so, those that bought into Monday's lesson may be confused as to why the heated water is able to hold more solute and dissolves it faster. They may come up to you and question you on it. This would be the first sign that the lesson is going well. For now though, we'll fall back on our explanation from before and ask them if they're sure they properly controlled all of their variables. Lab write-ups will be due on the Thursday, and as Wednesday and Thursday's classes will just be taken up with whatever else you've been studying until the students have had a chance to process their information and figure things out for their write up, we'll skip ahead to Friday's class after we've had a chance to see what the students wrote.

FRIDAY:
Either way, today is the day of the reveal. If the students caught on, writing about how all of their evidence disproves what we've told them and telling us that we were wrong, we congratulate them and let them know that we were leading them on to make a point. If they didn't catch on, producing lab reports that attempt to explain why their experiments are not fitting in with scientific facts due to some failing on their part, we can reveal to them that they in fact do fit in with the established knowledge. Either way, we now have a very vivid way to begin the conversation on what science really is. That is, to paraphrase Karl Popper, to attempt to disprove what is known rather than explain and confirm what we think we know. Today's lesson then is still on the topic of chemistry but is also an involved discussion with your students on what science is, stemming from the initial effort to deceive them. While in doing this experiment the students are certainly learning what it is intended they learn, and depending on how much they struggled with this they may have learned it in a much more memorable way, they have also learned a very important part of science.

CONCLUSIVE THOUGHTS:
Science, as I said earlier, from my perspective is all about argumentation, with fact as a sidenote to the intellectual fighting that defines popular knowledge. In getting your students to question what you are giving to them as established knowledge and work out arguments for themselves, you are providing them with a window into this. You would also, in at least a few of your students hopefully, planting a seed for them to get into this field. Admittedly, this is all in the hypothetical, but it is something which I believe would be incredibly valuable for students. What will hopefully happen as a result of this is that your students will be questioning much more of what they are told in school. In order to really get students engaged in all aspects of the educational process, they need to be not just interested in the subject matter but challenging it as well. The lessons learned from this experiment are pan-subject, but still include a specific lesson from the ninth grade science curriculum. From here, we can talk about problems in science, questions that are hotly debated (for example, is taxonomy a legitimate practice when what we are naming is still in a constant process of evolution?) by the scientific community, and branch into things that the students may already be interested in. In coming at science from philosophy. The debate is what matters. Even being aware of that debate though sparks an interest in matters of science that was not there before. So I want to open it up a bit for the rest of the time we have: Would you intentionally deceive your students like this? If so, what would you use to psych them out? How would you modify or improve something like this?

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Hey folks.

Sorry I haven't been around much the past week. I actually do have a good idea for a post in my head right now, but don't really have the time to get it on (digital) paper with all of the stuff I've got on my plate, both school and life related. Foremost on my mind right now is preparing for WestCAST. I've been writing a lot of stuff. I'm starting out just writing as much as I can as a stream of consciousness kind of thing and working it down into a 15 minute thing that I'd want to actually present to colleagues. I'm on track, but there's a lot to do yet. That in mind, I don't want this thing to stagnate so I figured I'd post the introductory ramble from what I'm doing as sort of a teaser of my presentation a week today (eep.). Here it is, hope it gets the brain a-churning:






On Dishonesty

In gathering my thoughts for this workshop that has descended on me with what feels like the force of a particularly impatient freight train, I forced myself to think about the various reasons why science bored me in school and why it fascinates me now. Unfortunately, this fascination emerged during the course of a degree in philosophy with practically no scientific background, so sadly too late to pursue this in any kind of formal setting, at least until after I finish what I'm working on now. Despite this, I find myself reading scientific articles in my recreational time, rather than all of those great works that, as an aspiring English teacher, some would expect me to know cover to cover (first edition if possible). As I have meditated on this issue, it has become apparent to me that it may not actually be the science itself that interests me, rather the concept of it. Man, do I ever sound like a philosophy major now, huh? It's true though. The story of science is not one merely of discovery of fact or the natural, observable world. The story of science is one of turmoil; one of constant upheaval and debate. People have died for their beliefs. Some, with lacklustre safety habits, have died from them. It is this passion, this fervour, and this constant struggle to be more right than the other guy that fascinates me. It just so happens that in reading up on all of this stuff, you learn all sorts of things about what they were more right about. How then, do I expect myself to (as the thought experiment that brought me into this project asked) teach science to a class of ninth grade students? After a great deal of thought and no small amount of soul searching, I hit on a simple idea that I think could really get people interested: lie to your students.


Sound like a decent start? The whole thing will be going down on Thursday, February 23rd at 1:30pm in EDT1220b at the University of Calgary, if you're around. I'm honestly not sure whether a friendly face would make me more or less nervous, but no way to know without one being there.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Well, I'm only a little late. I'm not sure if I want to give away too much about the WestCAST thing here, but I do want to talk a bit about what exactly the project is. A couple of weeks ago a buddy of mine came up to me with a proposition. Imagine that, as a person who is specializing in English/Language Arts, one of the first jobs you are able to get is that of teaching ninth grade science. Unfortunately, that kind of scenario is not too uncommon. As such, she was gathering a group of people from different disciplines to try to come up with approaches to science that break convention pretty hard. I was intrigued, so I signed on. After several meetings with the group now (people studying to teach Spanish, Inclusive Ed, Social Studies, English, and so on), I now have a pretty clear idea of what I want to do with myself. It's actually kind of risky. To give a bit of a preview, coming from my Philosophy background, my intention in teaching science is to communicate that science is inherently unfinished and that the goal of it is not to communicate a set of objectively true facts but to find flaws in what we know in a constantly continuing process of refining humanity's knowledge. As such, I intend to get the students pretty involved in argumentation and questioning what they are told. There is one slight hold-up however, in that I think I may need to talk to people about ethical clearance before I go ahead on things. It's a risky idea I have, but if it turns out it could be an incredibly memorable and powerful experience for potential students. For the WestCAST workshop, this is all hypothetical, but as I'm aiming to teach at the elementary level, sixth grade science may well be something I'm teaching sooner rather than later, and I'd love to implement something like this. More to come closer to the February 23rd presentation date.

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

I'm just wrapping up a paper which has me evaluating the K-9 Program of Studies for English Language Arts in Alberta. I have to say that, despite the sheer size of the document, it's a rather interesting read. My assignment was to look it over and note the ways in which it does and does not correspond to Luke & Freebody's "Four Resources" literacy framework (those being encoding/decoding, comprehension, real-world use, and critical evaluation) and I have to say that I'm a little surprised at what I saw. What particularly stands out for me is the way in which encoding and decoding are barely addressed, especially given the largely traditional climate of the province. If you're unsure what I mean by that term, encoding and decoding refers to the building block type stuff. Phonics, spelling, simple sentence construction, etc; the kinds of things that teaching reading and writing were all about for centuries. Looking at the program of studies (last revised in 2000, near as I can tell), it is very strange to me the attitude that is taken. It seems almost to be saying that by practising writing, good spelling and grammar will evolve naturally. Now, I don't know about you people, but I know plenty of folks who are constantly writing and can only spell just well enough to make the meaning apparent. The program references things like "the artistry of language" being the motivator for proper spelling and grammar. While personally I will admit to enjoying reading well written and properly spelled things, this is an aesthetic judgement that I don't believe we should think people will jump to without any kind of guidance. Particularly when we can look to countless poets who throw off grammatical convention in their work and produce things of great beauty, I don't know how we can take "artistry" seriously as a motivator for learning grammar.

Luckily, a further part of the assignment is to find ways to modify some of the outcomes the program of study sets in order to better address the four resources. This means that I've had some time to think on ways to sneak in some of the things it has omitted. I'm very glad that this course has given me the chance to look at the curriculum I'll be trying to adapt to my own classroom in (provided I can get a job) fall of 2013. In the time I've spent in the education program so far, it's probably the most useful thing I've done. I'll try and write a bit more by the end of the weekend. Maybe something about the WestCAST (Western Canadian Association for Student Teaching) conference and the workshop I've been asked to help put on? Who knows?

Monday, 30 January 2012

First things first. Let's explain the name of this thing.

I've always felt that, for a guy who tries to take as relaxed an approach as possible (as possible while still accomplishing things, anyway) that my name is ridiculously uptight and British. I'm a laid back 24 year old student in Calgary, Alberta who has managed movie theatres since he was 18 and never really let anything get to me. Heck, I have a philosophy degree. What I'm a student of at the moment however, is Education. In learning how to be a teacher, I've had to make my peace with the fact that from a year or so from now when I graduate until the end of my career, I will be known to most people I meet as "Mr. Worthington". That's a weird thought for me.

Oddly enough, it has recently started to feel right. The turning point came when I was sent to observe at an Elementary School last October. Walking around being identified by everyone as "Mr. Worthington" freaked me out a bit for the first day or so, but up to that point it had mostly been adults saying it. When I heard the words "Thank you, Mr. Worthington" come from a 7 year old boy, for whatever reason it fit. Suddenly, I felt like Mr. Worthington was something I could be; even something I should be. The name of this blog is my acceptance of that, and my move towards becoming it. It'll also be something I use to show prospective employers my thoughts on theory and practice as I observe it over the 15 or so months of school I have left in my BEd, and hopefully will continue with as I start teaching, giving parents of my students a window into their kid's teacher. A little transparency never hurt anyone, right? Finally, it will hopefully be a component of my portfolio for a professional development course I am taking, in which we've been asked to track our emergence into the world of teaching. This is my intention with the blog. Historically, I've been pretty bad about remembering to keep up with things like this, so hopefully it does not languish like so much internet detritus. We'll see. Wish me luck, internet.