The days have been slow and empty. If I weren't writing, I would think I had done nothing, ever. I woke up late for me, around 7 am. I slept long and deep, and that's after having a long nap and going to bed at a reasonable hour. It's getting hard. Dorothy is complaining about the same thing, an empty, bored feeling. If I got back to work on writing about the teaching methods I developed, I would feel better, but then I didn't do it. I didn't even reread what I wrote to see what I think about it.
Elsa went for a walk with me this morning. I walked up the hill to the first fire hydrant, which I hadn't done for a while. When I got to the hydrant, I checked the pedometer. It was blank. The battery had run out. I walked back down the hill, heading to the house. I wanted to walk longer, but the sun was high already. It gets too hot to walk.
Today was the Saturday shows on NPR. I like them all except for the cooking show. I washed the kitchen and hallway floors with my Bissell while that show was on. Then I napped. When I got up, I folded a huge black quilted blanket I planned to give to the Friendly Place for the homeless. It will serve as a bed and a blanket for someone. Since it's black, it won't show dirt. I sat around playing FreeCell. I edited and emailed two updates. I wrote one for today. I sent out one for the 21st for the blog. I washed Elsa.
During the day, I went out to check the laundry on the line. The clothes weren't quite dry, so I gave them a chance to dry further—a big mistake. Shortly, the sky opened and did its thing. It has been raining every day, which is unusual since it's not the rainy season. However, it is good news for the plants and our water supply.
While out there, I noticed my surprise pineapple was drooping over. It was ripe and ready for picking before it hit the ground and sent out invitations to everything that crawled the earth. I grabbed it. This was the fruit of the pineapple top I planted several years ago. Nothing happened after two years. I was told I hadn't prepared the top correctly and would never get a pineapple from that plant. Not only do you have to cut the top smoothly off the fruit, but you also have to crop the 'leaves' at the top of the plant. Lo and behold, patience, or better neglect, paid off. Not only did I get one pineapple out of this deal, but there may be two more growing behind it. Triplets.
Elsa and I didn't do our before-dinner walk. Just as we were about to, the sky opened up, and there was another downpour. While I was watching Bosch, I did some infrared light treatment on Elsa. I had her slung over my shoulder to get her into the library. When I sat down, she was so happy to be there; she snuggled up behind my head and stayed there. She may not be the best dog I ever had, but she's mine and good enough.
_____-____-____
Musings:
I heard another TED talk about improving yourself. I tried to find it again, but I couldn't. I wanted to take notes.
He spoke about the difference between being in 'performance mode' versus 'learning mode." In performance mode, you work to make no mistakes. In learning mode, you work to change what you do. Doing something unfamiliar requires taking risks. Taking risks requires making mistakes. A person who is open to learning sees the benefits of errors. They are the real teachers. Instead of groaning when we make mistakes, we should welcome them and then explore how they differ from the "right' way and why we would do it one way versus another.
For me, this ties in with learning with creativity. Creativity requires exploration, risk-taking, and valuing the mistakes you make.
Traditional education emphasizes performance over learning. The aim is to get the correct answer. Errors are not valued. I had an experience with a supervisor when I was teaching Title I classes in a Catholic school. Children who needed extra help came out to a trailer in the playground to work with me. I had taught one lesson; my supervisor was thrilled with the class.
Then, a second group of sixth graders came in. They announced that the teacher wanted me to go over two-dimensional shapes. I drew several on the board. I had trouble drawing an octagon. I asked if any of the kids could do it for me. Students happily volunteered. I did a fantastic job. It is a teacher's job to model the learning process. A teacher's job is to model how to respond to errors and their own mistakes, not just model perfection. This same supervisor tore me a new one because I wasn't prepared for the class. I don't know how she expected me to be ready when I didn't know the objective of the class before the kids entered the room. I could have insisted that I teach what I had prepared instead of being flexible and responding to the teacher's request. I was shocked by her response. It was 1995, after all. The need for teachers to present as perfect was behind us. Do we want our children to learn, or do we think teachers are models of perfection to imitate? I know my preference. Saturday, June 20, 2020
The days have been slow and empty. If I weren't writing, I would think I had done nothing, ever. I woke up late for me, around 7 am. I slept long and deep, and that's after having a long nap and going to bed at a reasonable hour. It's getting hard. Dorothy is complaining about the same thing, an empty, bored feeling. If I got back to work on writing about the teaching methods I developed, I would feel better, but then I didn't do it. I didn't even reread what I wrote to see what I think about it.
Elsa went for a walk with me this morning. I walked up the hill to the first fire hydrant, which I hadn't done for a while. When I got to the hydrant, I checked the pedometer. It was blank. The battery had run out. I walked back down the hill, heading to the house. I wanted to walk longer, but the sun was high already. It gets too hot to walk.
Today was the Saturday shows on NPR. I like them all except for the cooking show. I washed the kitchen and hallway floors with my Bissell while that show was on. Then I napped. When I got up, I folded a huge black quilted blanket I planned to give to the Friendly Place for the homeless. It will serve as a bed and a blanket for someone. Since it's black, it won't show dirt. I sat around playing FreeCell. I edited and emailed two updates. I wrote one for today. I sent out one for the 21st for the blog. I washed Elsa.
During the day, I went out to check the laundry on the line. The clothes weren't quite dry, so I gave them a chance to dry further—a big mistake. Shortly, the sky opened and did its thing. It has been raining every day, which is unusual since it's not the rainy season. However, it is good news for the plants and our water supply.
While out there, I noticed my surprise pineapple was drooping over. It was ripe and ready for picking before it hit the ground and sent out invitations to everything that crawled the earth. I grabbed it. This was the fruit of the pineapple top I planted several years ago. Nothing happened after two years. I was told I hadn't prepared the top correctly and would never get a pineapple from that plant. Not only do you have to cut the top smoothly off the fruit, but you also have to crop the 'leaves' at the top of the plant. Lo and behold, patience, or better neglect, paid off. Not only did I get one pineapple out of this deal, but there may be two more growing behind it. Triplets.
Elsa and I didn't do our before-dinner walk. Just as we were about to, the sky opened up, and there was another downpour. While I was watching Bosch, I did some infrared light treatment on Elsa. I had her slung over my shoulder to get her into the library. When I sat down, she was so happy to be there; she snuggled up behind my head and stayed there. She may not be the best dog I ever had, but she's mine and good enough.
_____-____-____
Musings:
I heard another TED talk about improving yourself. I tried to find it again, but I couldn't. I wanted to take notes.
He spoke about the difference between being in 'performance mode' versus 'learning mode." In performance mode, you work to make no mistakes. In learning mode, you work to change what you do. Doing something unfamiliar requires taking risks. Taking risks requires making mistakes. A person who is open to learning sees the benefits of errors. They are the real teachers. Instead of groaning when we make mistakes, we should welcome them and then explore how they differ from the "right' way and why we would do it one way versus another.
For me, this ties in with learning with creativity. Creativity requires exploration, risk-taking, and valuing the mistakes you make.
Traditional education emphasizes performance over learning. The aim is to get the correct answer. Errors are not valued. I had an experience with a supervisor when I was teaching Title I classes in a Catholic school. Children who needed extra help came out to a trailer in the playground to work with me. I had taught one lesson; my supervisor was thrilled with the class.
Then, a second group of sixth graders came in. They announced that the teacher wanted me to go over two-dimensional shapes. I drew several on the board. I had trouble drawing an octagon. I asked if any of the kids could do it for me. Students happily volunteered. I did a fantastic job. It is a teacher's job to model the learning process. A teacher's job is to model how to respond to errors and their own mistakes, not just model perfection. This same supervisor tore me a new one because I wasn't prepared for the class. I don't know how she expected me to be ready when I didn't know the objective of the class before the kids entered the room. I could have insisted that I teach what I had prepared instead of being flexible and responding to the teacher's request. I was shocked by her response. It was 1995, after all. The need for teachers to present as perfect was behind us. Do we want our children to learn, or do we think teachers are models of perfection to imitate? I know my preference.
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