Learning How To Observe

Learning how to observe takes time, patience, and practice. Also, it takes silence...which can be tough to generate in a middle school classroom. Some adolescents almost tremble with energy. Teaching adolescents how to observe is certainly a challenge in larger groups...but...I may just take another whack at it this year.

In 2012, I studied deer paths for myself. Mostly, I sketched them. Researching deer paths proved challenging as most of the texts I found about deer were about how to control the population. For example, when I referenced gardening texts (about the types of plants deer preferred to eat or bed down in) I encountered words such as pest and nuisance. Yet, to my surprise, I found the best information--full of subtly and nuance--from texts written by hunters.

For a year, the research supported a picture book I imagined and sketched. In the end, it did not go anywhere as a story; nevertheless, I grew as a writer. I honed my sketching ability (a.k.a. my thinking). By focusing on what was there, I became a better observer. I learned to detail with imagery which led to detailing with words and color.

I worked on this sketch for several days. Sometimes, I took my classes outside to also practice observation. At worst (best?), if they were stuck and did not know how to begin sketching or writing (there is nothing to write about!) they saw and heard me practice the act of observation. I shared my thinking. I shared how my thinking was flowing better if I could make myself relax (sort of like when ideas flow late at night, just before falling asleep).

I always wanted to return to this type of activity with students for an extended period of time. Our principal is encouraging us to brainstorm ways to upend the apple cart for the month of May. He wants to call it Mayhem...we teach, students learn, but take a deeper risk with something which we believe we never have the time to do.

Paper Mirrors

Paper serves as a magic mirror. Paper is sharper, more unclouded, than the marriage of glass and aluminum powder. Whether we scratch our thinking or our imagination onto the page, we are looking deeply inside ourselves. We are seeing things we did not know where inside. And we make decisions with each line...if we want to keep going. Do we like what we see?

Sharing our writing--at any level--is revealing to others what we look like beyond the protective shell of appearance.

My notebooks are accumulating years of sketches, lists, broken paragraphs, side notes, and illegible scrawling--extemporaneous thinking, planned picture books, ideas for teachers, and knowledge gained through reading and attending conferences--some of this work never evolves beyond that moment. Most (high 90%) never sees the light of day. But some of my work (single digit percentages) in my notebooks has evolved, has been read, has been shared, has been published.

Keep writing. Keep your students writing. Building a community of writers begins with the writer in the paper mirror.

Keyholes into Thinking

Everything used between two human beings in order to know someone takes time.

Conversations (true give and take dialogue with lots of listening) take time. Reading student writing takes time. Peeling back the curtains of polish essays and digging into student drafts takes time. Putting one's hands in the soil and browsing student notebooks takes time, but the notebook (just a nose behind conferring) is fast becoming my preferred place of getting to know my students better.

Notebooks are keyholes into thinking. We peer into pieces of their processes. We catch glimpses of when the thinking flows. We see the full range between outlining and extemporaneous thought. We know what has been abandoned and we catch the sparks before the flame.

More importantly, for me, a notebook invites conversation without fear of judgement. Of course, it is all in how we approach it. Yet, I am finding that students like sharing with me from a notebook.

Maybe it has something to do with no grade being attached.

Maybe it has everything to do with simply being interested in what they are trying to say.

Maybe this is some of the best investment of our time that we can make as teachers.