We've been talking about paradigm shifts in my senior Theory of Knowledge class--those times when the new completely replaces the old. While our conversations have revolved around science and what happens to our knowledge and discovery of truth after a paradigm shift occurs, I started thinking more about shifts in my own life, when a new way of thinking or doing something replaces the old. It is those times in my life where a paradigm shift occurred that required me to have the most grit, the greatest amount of courage, and the utmost passion to try something new.
I haven't always been open to trying new things. I remember growing up in a house where my mom made us try a new vegetable every night. It was a phase she went through that I truly didn't hate until we ate canned beets. The rule was we always had to try what was on our plates; if we didn't like it, no questions asked. While I despised this "experiment" at the time--especially when it came to ingesting the beets--I learned something through my mother's vegetable experiment: it's okay to try new things.
So, I've been trying new things as a teacher this school year. In my junior theory of knowledge class, I've gotten creative with our Socratic seminars. We've had a silent seminar on Google classroom so that everyone had a voice, some more unfiltered than others.
ĵ
We did the same in English class, silently discussing The Crucible:
I recently was inspired by an article I read which used an extended metaphor throughout the entire piece. You are currently writing persuasive essays with extended metaphors from The Crucible. You are comparing things such as racial prejudice to the Salem witch trials and people being lazy to John Proctor. I've found myself chuckling every time I get a question, "How long does this have to be?" or "How many sentences should this paragraph have?" Right now, just worry about writing, not the length. After all, we've studied mentor texts with one sentence paragraphs. We're starting to learn what rules in writing we can break and when we need to follow them. We're becoming real writers, taking chances, and trying something new.
At one of our faculty meetings early in the school year, Dr. Wheeler encouraged teachers to engage students and step away from traditional power points. I deem myself the Queen of Power Point, so clearly, I had some work to do. I mainly use power point to move my lesson and help me with transitions in the classroom. However, I decided to try something new and abandoned my power point to create an Escape Room to introduce A Streetcar Named Desire to you. Instead of the traditional lecture by power point, you experienced a series of puzzles and steps to learn the information and context of the book. You worked together collaboratively. I'm not sure how this lesson went in your eyes, but what I do know is that I took a risk and tried something new. What I also know is that all of you were engaged and not so dependent on me for every piece of information. You worked together as a team.
That is my challenge I offer to you this month. After spending one month in room 211, where can you take a risk? How can you try something new? Is it trying a new technique in your writing? Is it speaking in a Socratic seminar that would have normally left you quiet? Is it reading ten minutes before bed each night--that would be 70 minutes each week of reading! Is it taking a simple subject and looking at it from a new lens on your college essays (that one's for you, seniors!). This is my vegetable "experiment" I am offering you. Try something new. Look at the old in new eyes. Not everything has to be done the same way you've always done it. I still don't like canned beets, but I am a better teacher for trying new things in my classroom. You will be better students for doing the same.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Pace
Sincerely,
Mrs. Pace
