Tuesday, July 12, 2022

PechaKucha! and Final Narrative

Click here to watch the PechaKucha, "Sarah Kristiansen, Storyteller"


My name is Sarah Kristiansen and I am a storyteller. When I used to think how I would sit with my sister on my mother’s lap, listening to her read, I always connected those memories with who I was as a reader. As I have gotten older, and the stories that she told moved from Dr. Seuss’ Are You My Mother gave way to The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, and To Kill a Mochingbird, I realized that it was not simply the reading and the books themselves that I was drawn to, but the stories themselves. My mom wasn’t the kind of mom who sat on the floor and played with my sister and me, she always made sure that we had cousins around for that, but she loved to read to us, and never missed an opportunity to do so. She had a brother, my Uncle Larry, who would visit with his boys–cousins who were more like brothers–and the two of them would sit and drink cocktails and tell stories. So many of my childhood memories are backed by the soundtrack of my mother telling stories. In my freshman year of high school, my father died. I was not quite fifteen, so I relied on the stories from my mom, and from his beloved sister, to help ensure that I didn’t forget him. It has been thirty-three years since he died, and my teenage children can tell you much about Grandpa Charlie, thanks to the telling and retelling of those stories. 

Before I was a teacher, I was a photographer of weddings, families, and babies, and it was a job that I loved for a very long time. I approached phohtography as a storyteller as well, in the hopes that the images I was making would tell a story that would long outlive the moment itself. Even the photos that hang in my home all have stories that we know and love to retell. There is a particular photo from Christmas morning and Jane is bounding into the living room, Sam close on her heels, and we put it out on the mantle every December. Sam and Jane have long outgrown the Santa story, but that photo takes them back to those days of magic and myth, and they inevitably start telling stories about Christmas Eves past, gifts they loved, traditions they cherish, and family they miss. It is in these ways that stories are not only a kind of afterlife, but a time machine as well. 

Stories led me to teaching, but not in the way I expected. When I stopped pursuing photography professionally at 40, I returned to school to become an English Teacher, and I approached that work with a list of books I could not wait to teach. My pedagogy centered on stories, but I was looking to the wrong ones. In my pre-service days, and certainly in that first year in a classroom, I still believed I was a teacher of English. It wasn’t until my second year that I recognized that I am a teacher of humans, and English content is my vehicle with which I can connect to my students. A veteran history teacher and mentor told me once after a humanities department meeting where a school leader talked about rigorous assessments that the real secret to teaching are the “three Rs,” but not reading, writing, and ‘rithmetic. He said that it goes relationships, relevance, and rigor, in that order. Like Sir Ken Robinson understood, education is not a mechanical system, it is a human system (Robinson, 2013). Without foundational relationships, without knowing and understanding who you are teaching, you can not expect to have success with either relevant or rigorous curriculum. In that first year, I spent countless hours trying to create relevant and rigorous units for my high school students, but I was missing the foundational relationships I needed. 

I recognized the power of storytelling as a relationship builder the first time I led a Morning Meeting at school. Four days a week our school gathers together at the very start of the day to hear presentations, inspiration, celebrations, and announcements. In my first foray into this tradition, decided, naturally, to tell a story. Though I was a teacher at the school, I taught only half of the students, and the rest didn’t know me at all. I decided to tell a story about myself. About failure. About the Container Store. 

When I decided that I was ready to not be a photographer anymore, I learned that a Container Store was going to open in my town. A Container Store! I love containers! I love putting stuff into other stuff! I applied, had an amazing interview, and felt certain that not only were they going to hire me, they would probably make me a manager. I believed that whole-heartedly until I got the email that said “thanks, but no thanks.” Ouch. That was a painful rejection. I felt awful, I mean, the Container Store doesn’t even want me. A few weeks later I was photographing the MassBay Community College commencement ceremony. Their speaker spoke of failure, of feeling low, and using that as a springboard to the next great thing. I was moved. I thought about that idea of failure as a springboard the whole drive home and the next morning I enrolled at CCRI, the first step toward my teaching degree. Now when I go into the Container Store–remember, I love putting stuff into other stuff, I am filled with gratitude for that failure. 

My students love this story. I think they enjoy the relatable human-ness of feeling awful after a rejection, the fact that my path to teaching was long and winding, and to be frank, I am adept at telling a story; I am, after all, my mother’s daughter. They like to bring in little fun containers and tell me that they thought of me when they drove past the store. This past school year, a teacher gave me an empty box for my birthday with a note inside that said “Happy Birthday, SK! This is just a really great box!” It is not only a story that I tell, it is a glimpse into who I am and into what makes me, me. 

The Greene School is unique in the way we are intentionally diverse, with students coming from almost every district in the state. A freshman class of fifty students might come from thirty-five different middle schools. Not only are they strangers to me at the start of the year, they are strangers to each other. I believe that students learn best when they have a sense of belonging in their classroom, and a connection to each other. I believe that this starts by being vulnerable and brave, and open to each other, addressing one of the fundamental driving questions that students have: Who am I? (Wesch, 2016). Grade 9 students begin our school year attempting to address that question by writing Where I’m From poems. Once their writing is complete, we share. I take a page from Linda Christensen and explain that yes, of course I want them to be excellent and proud sharers of their work, but more importantly, though, I want them to become amazing listeners. Year after year, students answer the question of who they are with beautiful, emotional, hilarious writing. They share hopes and fears, loyal pets and favorite meals, struggles with mental health, and why peanut butter sandwiches are the best. Sharing is not easy. Sharing details about your identity to a room full of strangers can seem infinitely worse. Sometimes students trip over their words, but like Sherry Turkle noted, “when we stumble, we reveal ourselves to each other,” (Turkle, 2021). These moments of vulnerability are often the best drivers of connection in our classroom. Before we ever move into our relevant and rigorous curriculum, we are building those most important relationships. 

There is much to love about starting the year this way, but there’s a problem. Not every student wants to share, or feels bold or safe or brave enough to do so. The power of students sharing stories in their own voice is not universal in our space. For some students, their poems are read only by me, and perhaps a peer editor, but they remain un-voiced. I think the solution to this problem is a podcast. 

Before the Pandemic, I would have considered myself a techno-traditionalist (Noon, 2000). Virtual learning meant I was using digital tools to accomplish classroom tasks that I would otherwise have done with paper and pencil. There were a couple of tools I loved using, but they were always one-offs, fun exercises that existed as an addition to the lesson and the learning itself. Last year, I started asking myself what the point was for the tech tools I was reaching for. Unless it was going to act as a tool that would not only complement the learning but drive it forward, or deeper, I would skip it. I didn’t always hit the mark, either. Last year I attempted a podcast as an assessment; I recognized the power of students using their collaborative voices to show their learning, but the software was clunky, it required students to be together and record in one take. It got messy and frustrating for some students. I put a note in my planner that said “research podcast apps” in the hopes I would find something that would help me accomplish what I was envisioning. Thanks to this class, and Brittany Ahnrud, I have found Soundtrap

This fall, grade 9 students will write their Where I’m From poems and they will have the opportunity to practice being not only excellent sharers, but also amazing listeners. This year, however, using Soundtrap, all students will record their poem in their own voices. This tool will become another modality where students will practice not only being confident sharers, but amazing listeners. I hope that this will be the first of many times they tell their stories in their own voices. I hope that it makes them want to hear other people's stories as well. Stories are the connecting threads of community, a sense of belonging, and empathy. Once we have built a foundation of relationships through storytelling, we can move far beyond simply relevance and rigor to a learning revolution that will extend far beyond the walls of my classroom.


link to self-evaluation

link to final narrative as google doc


References

Noon, S. (2000). Are You a Techno-Constructivist? Education World. https://www.educationworld.com/a_tech/tech/tech005.shtml

Robinson, K. (2013, May). How to escape education's death valley. YouTube. https://www.ted.com/talks/sir_ken_robinson_how_to_escape_education_s_death_valley?language=en

Turkle, S. (2021). Connected, but alone? YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7Xr3AsBEK4&t=19s

Wesch, M. (2016, April 15). What Baby George Taught Me About Learning | Dr. Michael Wesch | TEDxMHK. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SP7dbl0rJS0




Storytelling: through the lens of Disney and as an act of resistance

Stories are powerful, not just because they bring readers and listeners into new worlds. Stories, and who is telling and hearing them are connected to that power. In the last chapter of Rethinking Popular Culture and Media, Jerica Coffey writes a piece called "Storytelling as Resistance." In it, she notes that "everything we read, watch, or hear is a construct with underlying power." Like language itself, students must think critically about who has the power to actually tell the stories. 

Coffey has her students dig into the untold stories of people in their communities and write nonfiction narratives. She teaches in Watts, California, an area where there are plenty of stories told about the community but not by those who live there. Students recognize the ways in which Watts is portrayed in the media, and who has the power to tell those stories. Coffey has students connect with people (over 30) in their community, interview them, and then write their stories in the voice of the people themselves. 

Coffey and her students were clear that while their community might not have the kind of monetary wealth that more affluent areas had, they had "other kind of wealth," like aspirational, social, familial, and resistant wealth, among others. I was drawn to the concept of linguistic wealth, "the multiple language and communication skills that we use to support our communities." If ever there was a term that encompassed the asset-mindset of multi-lingual learners, it has to be "linguistic wealth." 

Coffee and her students challenge the dominant narrative told about their community in order to give a voice and tell the stories of the people who make up that rich, vibrant community. She is an educator who understands the value in understanding who is telling the story.

.....

In an earlier chapter in the book, Linda Christensen explains how she teaches her students to think critically about the stories that children are told, those that are so embedded in our culture that they "indoctrinate" us with ideas on how to act, live, and dream. She is talking, of course, about Disney. The ways in which filmmakers at Disney decide to tell peoples stories are fraught with harmful stereotypes. Christensen shows cartoons and films and has them think about the way these stereotypes are put forth with questions like "Who plays the lead? Who is the buffoon? Look at the race, station in life, body type of each character. What do they want out of life? What would children learn about this particular group from this film?" Like Coffey, Christensen challenges students to consider the power construct in who is telling the story, and about whom that story is being told. 

Looking at Disney films through this critical lens is important if we want students to become savvy and critical consumers of digital media. Watching a film the way we watched Encanto and charting the conventions and stereotypes within was enlightening, and something I will do in my classes this upcoming year. I will, however, ensure to balance the critique with the enjoyment of these films...it's a BOTH-AND situation! 

Disney Princess Conventions





Sunday, July 3, 2022

QR Codes!

I am for any tool that can help me make connections with my students. I am definitely drawn to programs that are shiny and will create really fun products, but I often get mired down in the program itself and give up on it before it has helped me with the actual learning. For our tech tutorials, I wanted to show how I use technology to address a human issue in my classroom: bathroom usage.

Let me qualify that statement and say that I don't actually think that bathroom usage is an issue in general. I want students in my classes (in grades 9 and 11...so, young adults) to have agency over their bodies and learn to make decisions for themselves on issues of self-control. And. I also recognize that there are students who take advantage of that policy. As a result, some teachers institute a "no bathroom" policy in their classrooms (I will not do that) or offer tickets that students turn in and redeem for a finite number of quarterly trips to the bathroom (nope). My solution was to use a QR Code and create a digital bathroom pass. 

A "quick response" or QR code is a type of bar code that can be scanned by a mobile device that will direct the user to a specific URL or webpage. 

My first step was to create a quick google form for signing in and out of my classroom. 



This asks for student name, if they are signing in or out of class, and what class they are in. I then created a QR code for that google form, downloaded it, and created a fun digital sign using a template from slidescarnival to create a poster to print.


(Try it! use your phone's camera to scan the QR code to see my digital bathroom pass!)

I printed this on 11x17 paper, laminated it, and hung it by my door. At the start of the year I set the expectation that we stay in the classroom for the first and last ten minutes of class, but outside of those times, if they need the bathroom, they should use the sign to sign out of class, use the bathroom, and sign back in. It takes a little time for them to begin to be aware of when other folks are out of the room, and when they should wait, but they get there. 

The google form allows me to review who is in and out of class, and because it automatically records the time, I don't have to guess on how long someone has been out of my room. I can then use that data to have conversations with students. When I review the form responses, when I see that the same student is out of my room every day for 10 minutes, it allows me to have a conversation about why. My hope is that other teachers will do that this coming school year, and then we can start to notice trends across classes. 

Here is a link to my tutorial on using QR codes in class. In the video, I show another way I'll be using a google form paired with a QR code to drive engagement with my students. 

I would LOVE to hear from you on how else you might use QR codes in your classrooms! Leave a comment and let me know! 

PechaKucha! and Final Narrative

Click here to watch the PechaKucha, "Sarah Kristiansen, Storyteller" My name is Sarah Kristiansen and I am a storyteller. When I...