Lessons for teaching in the environment and community – 5

Lessons for teaching in the environment and community – 5

“Lessons for Teaching in the Environment and Community” is a regular series that explores how teachers can gain the confidence to go into the world outside of their classrooms for a substantial piece of their curricula.

Part 5: Questions are Compasses

by Jim Martin, CLEARING guest writer


compassillustrationThe more things are spoken about,
The less of their truth remains . . . .

– Nanrei Kobori

O2ur words, leaves falling from trees, in their numbers can obscure the realities they describe. Writing a clear, succinct inquiry question is not an easy thing to do, but can become relatively easy with practice. We can only think as clearly as how well we use the language we think with, can only travel as far as our thoughts will carry us. Clean inquiry questions facilitate investigative designs; cluttered questions do not. Our job now is to use our recent outdoor experiences and our facility with language to write a clean, clear, succinct, inquiry question. That done, we can assess it.

If you took me up on my suggestion, this week you wrote at least four inquiry questions around what you observed during your casual observation, and attempted to assess them. We’re going to work with those and the two questions I asked and use what we know about them to query your questions. Then we’ll use one of them to design an investigation.

Hopefully, we’ll turn yours into questions that you could ask your students, and which would lead them to make the observations necessary to answer them. To do that, you simply need to make your questions clear enough that they tell you what to do to find an answer to them. Good questions are interesting to the asker, simple and straightforward, answerable and practical, and quantifiable (measurable).
(You may have noticed that I am using various criteria to describe and assess inquiry questions. If you ask around, you’ll find many ways to assess them, each reflecting a different aspect of inquiry. These assessments aren’t graven in stone. Get to know as many as you can, and you’ll find a handful will make great sense to you. Use them. In time, you’ll add others as they begin to make better sense. We’re all on a journey, traveling at our own pace, but moving toward the same destination.)

Pull out your inquiry questions. Choose one you’d most like to answer. This is the inquiry question we’ll start with. Let’s assess it. Your question should be interesting to you, simply stated, answerable by making observations, and doable. Notice that I’ve substituted doable for quantifiable. I’ve decided to mentally include quantifiable in observations. The main point is that questions have to have a sharp focus that creates a picture in your mind, that tells you what to do, and that you can actually do what it tells you. In your own mind, sort out three or four descriptors to use to assess your questions. I’ll use the four I stated earlier for the moment. Let’s use them one at a time to assess my two questions, then yours.

Interesting to you. You’re not likely to learn much from seeking an answer to a question which is uninteresting. Nor are you likely to invest enough in it to bring the necessary care and attention to detail that the work demands. If you’re a student, investigating the question may not drive you into your textbooks for needed information. Assign your question’s interest to you on a scale of 1-3, and write down, or at least think about your reason for this assessment.
(Something to think about: “How” and “why” questions – some questions are too large for a single inquiry. They may tell you what you want to know, but are too general to focus a single investigation upon. They usually have other questions ‘embedded’ within them. For instance, if you ask, “How do leaves on the bottom of a pond affect dissolved oxygen in the water,” you need to know where leaves are and are not, what the concentration of dissolved oxygen is where there are and aren’t leaves, what processes are entrained by leaves when they fall into the water, which of these processes use or produce oxygen, and so forth. Any one of these ‘embedded’ questions can be made the subject of an inquiry. Taken together, their answers may begin to answer the larger question.).

Simply Stated. If your question is complex, it may represent more than one question. Other questions are embedded within it, much like bricks in a sidewalk. ‘Why’ questions fall into this category. Asking why cottonwoods grow on stream banks does not suggest observations to make. Or, the question may contain so many components that it will be cumbersome to design an investigation around. For example, What determines how far from the water’s edge cottonwood trees grow, depth of the water, depth of the water table, growth rate of cottonwoods, soil types at various distances from the water’s edge, or the height of adult trees? The best questions are simple sentences like, “Where do birds perch,” or, “What kinds of macroinvertebrates inhabit rocky bottoms?” Again, assess your question on a scale of 1-3 and know your reason.

Answerable by Making Observations. You should be able to answer your question by observing its subject, and measuring or counting something about it. If your question is about what type of bottom macroinvertebrates ‘like,’ then you would have to ask them how they like rocks, mud, decaying leaves, and so forth. Would you be able to tally and count their responses? (You could ask about how many are present in each kind of bottom, and make an inference about preference.) Score your question and know why.

Doable. If your question involves the subject in the future, then you won’t be able to make an observation today. For instance, “How many of these salmon eggs will hatch in the spring?” is an inquiry question that you couldn’t make an observation upon today. If you need a room full of equipment to make the observation, or need to observe over a period of weeks, but only have one day, answering the question may not be doable. Assess your question and know why.

Add your scores and divide by 4. This number, your overall score, should be very close to 3. Now what? What does your assessment tell you about your inquiry question? Is it a good question for you to ask, or should you make some changes to it? If your Overall Score is less than 3, then go back to the question and modify it based on the assessment criterion that you scored lowest on. Or, you may have to abandon it for now.

Rework/rethink. If you edited your question, then re-write it. Make notes so that you won’t forget what you were thinking as you rewrote it. (This is a good thing to remember when your students are experiencing the same thing. These thoughts are important, and are generally lost if not preserved in writing.) If this question won’t work, go to one of the others you wrote, find one you think might work, and assess it. This may take time, but the learnings are invaluable.

Congratulations! You’ve just completed the most difficult part of the inquiry process. While it may not seem so, this is the piece that engages you (and your students) in active critical thinking. Pay attention to your students when they are framing inquiry questions. The difficulty they encounter and frustration they feel is what we all experience when we do more than simply memorize more facts. Like anything else we ask our brains to do, the process becomes easier with practice.

Here’s my assessment of my two questions.

Do Fox Sparrows spend more time in the upper or lower branches of trees?
• Interesting to me: 3. I’m intrigued by the idea of birds partitioning trees, so this is right down my alley.
• Simply stated: 2. A better sentence might be, Where in trees do Fox Sparrows spend most time? I’m ambivalent, though, because the question, as stated, tells me precisely where to look.
• Answerable by making observations: 3. I listen and look and write down where they are. Done deal.
• Doable: 3. I have an hour. I’ll do it.

So, I tweak my question and I’m ready. A nice outcome of this is that my question tells me what to do; how to design my investigation.

What causes Fox Sparrows to fly south in winter?
• Interesting to me: 3. I’ve always wondered why birds fly south.
• Simply stated: 2. I think it’s almost a succinct sentence. I might try tweaking it.
• Answerable by making observations: 1. I can’t think of all the things that cause birds to fly south in winter. I could probably come up with a short list, but I don’t know if I have the capacity to investigate them.
• Doable: 1. I don’t have the lab I’d need to do the behavioral and physiological studies, nor the time to make detailed field observations here and enroute south. I give up!

So, I have a question, but its assessment score is low. What does it tell me to do. Simple. I either drop it, or find one of the inquiry questions embedded in it to answer. I think I’m beginning to appreciate succinct questions.

I’ve got a question, the first one I wrote, and now I need to design an investigation to answer it. My question tells me what to do, so I’ll list the steps it will take in the order that I’ll do them. Pretty straightforward. From here on out, the job is relatively easy, I just complete the work, one step at a time. The next time we meet, we’ll write the investigation’s design, talk a little about collecting data, and what we do with the data once we’ve collected it. In the meanwhile, choose your best question and assess it. Sounds a little hoaky, but if you’ve never done this work, it will be time well spent.

 

This is the fifth installment of “Teaching in the Environment,” a new, regular feature by CLEARING “master teacher” Jim Martin that explores how environmental educators can help classroom teachers get away from the pressure to teach to the standardized tests,  and how teachers can gain the confidence to go into the world outside of their classrooms for a substantial piece of their curricula. See the other installments here.

Lessons for teaching in the environment and community-4

Lessons for teaching in the environment and community-4

“Lessons for Teaching in the Environment and Community” is a regular series that explores how teachers can gain the confidence to go into the world outside of their classrooms for a substantial piece of their curricula.

Part 4: Inquiry

An Introduction to the World of Discovery….
by Jim Martin, CLEARING guest writer

“We carry with us the wonders we seek without us. There is all
Africa and her prodigies in us; we are that bold and adventurous
part of Nature, which he that studies widely learns in a compendium

what others labor at in a divided piece and endless volume.”

Sir Thomas Browne
Religio Medici

We are, indeed, the wonders that we seek. To discover them, we must look deep within ourselves, to that part which can reach out to the world and comprehend it. Then release ourselves to know.
scatonrcOdd, that we must release what’s within us to know what is outside. Traveling within is a process, best taken a step at a time. Enough steps taken, and your teaching will change.

The change flows from a tack in perspective, a paradigm shift, if you will, that presents you with a new, very functional and accessible view of teaching: what it ought to be, what it can be. But, like discovering your inner self, you don’t get there by hearing about it; you have to make the journey yourself.

Start by going into the world. Reflect on the difference between how it looks and how school looks and how textbooks, handouts, and applications look. When you engage that change in perspective, school, textbooks, handouts, and applications will look like the real world, the extension of the world beyond the classroom that they ought to be.

If you spent some time in a place like those I described in my last blog, you may have had a moment when you wanted to know something; the name of a plant, what that stuff encrusting the branches of a tree was, etc. These ‘Needs to Know’ emerged from engagement with a place, and may have influenced your view of this place as classroom – your new perspective. They are the vehicle which makes publishers’ materials, and your classroom, relevant and useful extensions of the real world. The world outside drives you into the books and into learning.

How often do we give our students concepts to memorize, and then tear our hair out when they can’t think their way through them?  Science is touted to be the subject which teaches critical thinking.  Do we enable it to do that, or do we eschew this role of our discipline?  Going into the Real world for curriculum gets you and your students into the larger community and environment where they can reach out, touch what they find, and incorporate it into what is already there in their brains. I call going into the world outside the classroom “Community and Environment Based Education,” CEBE for short.

If you’ve never experienced it, the thought of teaching a CEBE curriculum can be intimidating. We all experience a sense of uneasiness when we try something new. Taking simple, positive steps is how we overcome inertia in the face of what we perceive as difficult. You’ll find that doubt dissolves as soon as you engage a familiar content. If you made a casual observation, you probably noticed this.

How do you gain the confidence it takes to enjoy teaching CEBE learning? First, learn what it is. CEBE learning is an inquiry process that produces facts, but it is not the facts themselves. Inquiry, itself, is not a book of facts; it is a cognitive-kinesthetic process, a way of knowing, a way of organizing your thoughts and actions. Here are four basic pieces of the process: 1) ask a question in your environment or community, 2) decide how you might answer it, 3) follow through on this decision, and 4) compare the results of following through with the question that you asked. This is manageable, and, with a little support, you’ll find that you can do it. Let’s work our way through this, one step at a time. We have time.

We can’t ask a question until we know something about the topic of our inquiry. This is one of the critical problems with publishers’ inquiries. They start with a question or hypothesis about something you’ve never experienced. To ask a question, you have to know something about the thing you’re questioning. We don’t start right out with our magnifying glasses and a Burning Question. To begin, we’ll just go out and get a feel for how Inquiry works. A good place to start is to engage in finding something out. This is one of the most difficult pieces of inquiry, because it is tenuous, and where you go is up to you. You’ll be a little uncomfortable for awhile. Assume that you’ll find something of interest and develop a good inquiry. As you work, you’ll occasionally feel uncertain, and want to be advised by some authority. Be assured that this is your inquiry, and you have the capacity to make decisions about what to do.

Start with something to find out. Go to a place that interests you and walk through it. Let yourself relax in this place. Don’t focus on any particular thing, but let parts of the place come to you as you walk. They will, if you let them. For example, let’s say you notice plants seem to act as habitat for animals. Now you have something to think about. Look closely. Write notes about what you notice. Comment on anything that you find of interest. Spend at least 20 minutes doing this as you walk around. It may become quite involved. If it does, have faith that you can sort it out.

Keep track of how you feel about this, especially your sense of autonomy. Whenever we do something, we have a thing I call our ‘Locus of Control’ that goes with the doing. Bend your arm at a right  angle and close your fist. Move your fist away from your body, keeping your elbow against your ribs and your lower arm parallel to the ground. If you’re comfortable with what you’re doing, and the authority for that comes from you, move your fist as close to the center of your abdomen, next to the spine, as your skin and muscles will allow. This indicates a locus of control which resides within a person; where the person is the authority for her thoughts and actions.

If you’re following directions, but aren’t comfortable enough to act on your own decisions about the work, move your fist into the air before you; move it to a distance which seems to reflect your comfort with being the authority for the work you are doing. Make sure you understand this idea of a locus of control. It’s importnt to move your locus of control from outside yourself to inside you. We’ll revisit the concept from time to time.

Later, look over your notes. What did you notice that was interesting to you? Were there any patterns? Anything unusual? Describe that, and what about it caught your interest. Of the things you described, which would you like to know more about? Later, you will use this to focus your inquiry question. Jot down any questions your observations, thoughts, or notes raised. Then think of how you might use this piece to start a lesson in the classroom, lab, schoolyard, neighborhood, some topic you will cover in the next two weeks.

Next, we’ll work on asking a clear, succinct inquiry question. This is a tough job, but not as personally difficult as going to a place and finding something to question. If you have children of your own, how might they grow with this kind of experience? Your students?

 

This is the fourth installment of “Teaching in the Environment,” a new, regular feature by CLEARING “master teacher” Jim Martin that will explore how environmental educators can help classroom teachers get away from the pressure to teach to the standardized tests, and how teachers can gain the confidence to go into the world outside of their classrooms for a substantial piece of their curricula. See the other installments here.

How to Give Kids a Nature Experience to Remember

How to Give Kids a Nature Experience to Remember

naturetrail-w-title

One of my favorite nature quotations comes from the Japanese conservationist Tanaka Shozu who said, “The question of rivers is not a question of rivers, but of the human heart.”

I wanted to touch the hearts of my middle school students with the beauty of nature as well as inspire them to take care of the local environment. I found the perfect spot for a nature experience less than an hour away from our school campus in the Sierra Nevada. (more…)

Developing Questioning Strategies: Learning to become a science teacher

Developing Questioning Strategies: Learning to become a science teacher

“All anyone really needs is a coal bin and a friend.”
 


Kidswithfungi
By Jim Martin

A storm of children, shouts, swirling bodies, and dust swept me out of the yard. Up the street, neighborhood kids whirled around some coal bins between two wartime shipyard houses. I can see and hear them now, the kids, a bicycle, the coal bins, the houses and trees behind them, the noise. Propelled toward them by their intense energy, I became madly aware that they were riding a bicycle. I wanted to ride too. This was 1947; kids didn’t have bikes during the war, and few had them now, two years after the armistice.

Nor were there such things as training wheels. Getting onto a 26-inch bike with a running start was so intimidating that I had shrunk from attempting it. But this day was different. Kids were riding the bike by balancing themselves between two coal bins which were set about three feet apart, making a narrow chute. They would put the bike in the chute, climb onto a coal bin, lower themselves onto the pedals, scoot out to the edge of the bin, push off, and ride! This, I saw so clearly, I could do.

I ran up the street and begged for a turn, mounted, scooted out, pushed off and rode in a large circle in the driveway, lost my balance, fell sideways, caught myself and the bike before we both fell to the ground, stood up and wheeled it to the next kid in line. I had done it! You could, too, with a little help from a coal bin and encouragement from your friends.

The coal bin gave me just that bit of support and encouragement that I had lacked. With it, riding a 26-inch bicycle became something I could do. And I did.
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The thought of teaching science can be as intimidating for many teachers as the thought of riding a bike was for me. We all experience a sense of uneasiness when we try something new. This is how we overcome inertia in the face of what we perceive as difficult. I call these hesitations in the face of something new “twinges of doubt.” When I first began teaching, I had a twinge of doubt that I’d understand the biological concepts I’d learned well enough to teach them. Doubt dissolved as soon as I engaged a familiar content; but the fact that the twinge was experienced is significant. If, having a strong background and interest in biology, I felt it, what must an elementary teacher, with little or no background or experience feel? Science has so much content, so many facts. How can we possibly master the subject well enough to teach it? Well, we don’t need to master science in order to teach it. What we need is to experience how science works. Knowing how science works, believe it or not, makes teaching science doable, it builds a sense of self confidence, a sense that this bicycle is not a formidable adversary; it can be ridden, it is fun to do. How do you gain the confidence it takes to enjoy teaching science? First, climb the coal bin; learn what science is. Science isn’t books of facts; it is a cognitive kinesthetic process, a way of knowing, a way of organizing our thoughts and action. Science as process produces facts, but it is not the facts themselves. Here are four basic pieces of process science that you can try today:  1) ask a question,  2) decide how to answer it,  3) follow through on this decision, and  4) compare the results of following through with the question you asked. This is manageable, and, with a little support, you can do it. Here’s how:

1. Find the coal bin (a question). Take a first step; ask a question answerable by an observation. No one will see you or know that you are taking a personal risk. Our environment is more familiar to us, so let’s try it first. Go outside and try one of these:

Pigeons – where do they spend most of their time? How do they spend their time?

Ants – where do they go? Do they all travel in the same direction? Do the same thing?

Squirrels – how close can you get to them before they run away? (Notice that you can answer these question just by looking, which is making an observation). Pick one of these simple questions, choose one of your own, or substitute the subjects of your observations for, say, pill bugs, potato bugs, spider webs, weeds, and so forth, then continue reading.

2. Scoot out to the edge of your question. First, make a guess about what you will find out. If you are looking at ants, make a guess about where their main door is, or in which direction the majority of those near the door are traveling. Decide what you will look for. For instance, the number of ants who enter and leave the door. Rite this down. We don’t write enough. Humans clarify their thoughts by writing, acting, or drawing them. Our written expressions become records of the thoughts we all too easily forget. This is important; you must articulate your simple plan of action. Science is a wonderful vehicle for delivering critical thinking. Critical thinking happens best when we write out our thoughts. It is a formal commitment of our thoughts to paper. Now, put this article down and go out, follow your directions, and observe for ten minutes. Write down what you see, one minute at a time. Just ten minutes. Easy

3.  Push off (follow up on your question). Go back to the classroom and put the results of your ten-minute observation on the board. Do this as a visual: a picture, a graph, a diagram, etc. Mak it into a representation of what you saw, and which makes sense to you. Ask yourself how to put the results up so they tell you whether you’ve answered your question. Discuss these results with yourself, or call in a friend or colleague. Better yet, discuss your results with a student. Did your observations answer your question? What did they tell you about the animals you observed? What did you learn about the process of observation itself? Did you find it necessary to change your observational plan? Did you find you had to change what you meant by, say, moving in a particular direction? Think about this and thin about the phrase, “science as process.”

4.  And Ride. What questions or ideas does the information on the board raise? How about your observations; did they raise any questions or ideas? Pick one of these to follow up. Write it down. Decide how to organize your observations, then go out again. (This time, you might invite your students. Dangerously close to curriculum now.) Make your observations, post and review your results, discuss their implications, raise questions. If your review the list in the previous sentence, you will notice that the words in the list name processes. Do you recognize any pattern in how these processes are applied? Can you add any to the list? Notice that, in seeking an answer to a question, you end up asking more questions. You’ve been paid compound interest on a small investment in critical thinking! What an investment opportunity for your students!

Nail down what you’ve learned so far. Describe to yourself what you can do now that you couldn’t do before. Describe what you know about the subject of your observations. Did you acquire new facts? (These are the facts of your science curriculum. These facts your students should, and will, remember because they make sense.) Describe how your experiences and understanding might fit into an integrated curriculum. Write these descriptions out. If you have done this with your class, then you can look back and recognize that you’ve generated a piece of your own curriculum. Go to the standards and see if you have addressed any of them. Did you address any in Mathematics? Social Studies? Language? Art? Music? Share your experiences by submitting an article to Clearing. Make a presentation of your experiences at the next science teachers conference. Nentor another teacher. Celebrate. You’ve begun a process which has no end.

This article is reprinted from Issue 96 of Clearing Magazine, and is also found in The Best of Clearing, Volume V.

—Jim Martin has retired from a long career as a science educator in which he taught at every grade level from elementary through college, and as a teacher trainer for the Center for Science Education at Portland State University. He also served as president of the Environmental Education Association of Oregon.

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Lessons of Discovery: Teaching and learning along with your students

Lessons of Discovery: Teaching and learning along with your students

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Forest Grove Community School student taking a closer look at macroinvertebrates living in a stream near the school.

Innovative tools allow a teacher to extend class activities on stream ecology and forest history

by Charles Graham

I have made an interesting observation about teaching recently.  Some of the best lessons are not necessarily the carefully planned and orchestrated units, but rather the ones that grew and took shape as the project progressed.  I have found that some of my best teaching has been when I didn’t know the exact outcome in advance and learned something new right along with my students. This has been my experience with environmental exploration into stream ecology and the “Leaf Pack” program. (more…)

Outdoor Education in the Schoolyard

Outdoor Education in the Schoolyard

classroomgardenby Julie Lancaster

Last year, I left the OE world that I love so much and went back to school to get my teaching credential/MA Education. I felt that loving education as much as I do, it would be extremely beneficial to study it! Finding myself headed toward student teaching in the classroom, I kept reaffirming my commitment to OE, and vowed that I would reenter that world once I was finished with my program.

Well, I survived learning and teaching in a traditional classroom setting, and I still have a love of teaching and learning outdoors (of course). After finishing my program this past July, I jumped into a new direction that bridged OE and the school system. I have become the Special Programs Director at an elementary school, where as one of my primary jobs is creating and teaching K-6 in a school garden (AKA Life Lab or Garden Classroom). It is absolutely wonderful. (more…)