"Chasing Ice", Global Warming, and Teenagers

To launch our Science Fair project on Global Warming we showed the 9th and 10th graders the film "Chasing Ice".  I could see their eyes glaze over when I used the word “documentary” to prep them for the experience.

However, that film is so captivating right from the beginning that they were instantly engaged.  Occasionally I’d scan the room to study their expressions as we were watching and their eyes seemed to never leave the screen.  I’ve seen it already three times and am still amazed myself watching it again. 

James Balog is an incredible human being with a passion for something meaningful.  The students clearly caught the idea of what that man is all about and were impressed.  His journey, determination, and work are inspiring.   The photography is stunning and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.   I highly recommend the film to everyone.  Additionally, the message that comes about from the photographical evidence is undeniable and definitely convincing. 

Later a student said to me, “That movie was SO AMAZING” as her face lit up with the pure excitement of sharing appreciation and discovery.  There is something so wonderful about having moments of equality with students in the shared joy of science.

"Chasing Ice"  for teenagers preparing for a unit on Global Warming?  Definitely a win.

Is the IB worth it: A perspective from one who is both IB teacher and mom of two IB students.

Is the IB worth it: A perspective from one who is both IB teacher and mom of two IB students.

I currently have two children who are in their final year of the IB program.  We are 3 months away from the IB exams.  They are actively working on Internal Assessments (IA) for History, English, Science, as well as their Extended Essays and Theory of Knowledge essays.  The math IA is, thankfully, complete.  There has been so much stress and anxiety in my house for the last five months that it has become almost unbearable.  And, it leads me to actively question, “Is the IB worth it?”

I currently am an IB Biology teacher and an advocate of the IB program.  I believe in and endeavor to guide my students in the IB learner profile (IB learners strive to be inquirers, knowledgeable, thinkers, communicators, principled, open-minded, caring, risk-takers, balanced, reflective).  I think it is a globally minded, well rounded, and balanced curriculum.  It is also rigorous and truly prepares students for academic university life.  I have had countless students return to tell me how grateful they are for their IB education and how prepared they were for college.  As a teacher I’ve never really questioned the IB program.

However, now I stand in different shoes and am reflecting on what the IB means to our family:

The IB program dictates family vacations or rather, NOT taking family vacations.

The IB program directs social events and weekend activities or rather NOT having social events or fun activities on the weekend.

If your children are relatively intelligent and willing to work hard, they’ll still struggle in the IB program causing stress that reverberates throughout the family structure.

If your children decide to “have a life” – or “be balanced”, as heralded important in the IB learner profile – by joining a sports team, they will become unmanageably swamped by juggling the sports schedule and the work load generated by the IB program. 

Because the workload is so intense, there will be times when they simply must choose to miss a deadline or two resulting in concerned teachers and the building up of the workload.

They spend hours and hours each on homework, limiting themselves to about 5 hours (sometimes less) of sleep a night, including weekends as well.  As a parent I straggle into bed late at night fully aware that my children are toiling away on a math assignment in one room and a history assignment in another room.

I feel guilty about the Biology work they have been assigned by me; however, I know there is no other way.

They show me their progress with blood-shot eyes and carry on.

Then starts the cycle of teachers constantly being on their case about deadlines.   The teachers begin to question your children’s dedication to schoolwork; unaware of how much time the students are actually putting in.  I know, because I’m one of those teachers!

Oh, and then there are the meaningful service hours they need to complete, document, and reflect on.

Then, ultimate deadlines with threats of "no diploma" appear and loom overhead.  Teachers have no choice, I know, because IAs must be mailed in to the IB by certain deadlines and teachers need time to assess them first.  I’m currently worried I won’t have enough time with the Biology IAs to fairly assess them before the mailing date.

More sleep deprivation.

High stress levels.

Tears.  Anger. Fear of failure.

Is it worth it?  I’m not sure.  I’ll have to see this through and revaluate next fall when it is behind us and my children are fully immersed in college life with the anxieties and stresses of IB in the distant past.

Division: Should behavior be included in the grade?

“Vote with your feet.  If you think behavior should be included in the grade, go to that side of the room.  If you think behavior should not be included in the grade, go to this side of the room.”

Just like that, the room was divided and a heated debate ensued.

Half of the teachers think behavior such as effort, participation, and obeying class rules should be included in the grade.  Others think a grade should be exclusively a communication of achievement. 

Teachers argue that part of our job is to teach professional behavior; otherwise we need to consider why we even have school.  Others argue that behavior should be taught and reported on, however, independently from the grade that reflects competencies attained.  One of my colleagues turned to me and said, “If you are grading on effort and participation then you are grading on personality”.  That hardly seems fair.  I want to see the rubrics and standardization for effort and participation grades.  However, they don’t exist.  I am confident that no two teachers are grading effort and participation alike and that’s a problem.  I agree that we need to set standards for how students act in class, however, I do not think we should grade on that.  I think professional behavior is taught as a value.  We don’t grade on honesty or kindness or respect so why on effort/participation or “professionalism”?  I just don’t get it.

Do I wish I had another job?

While I take zero stock in the results of such activities, I recently took one of those Facebook surveys titled “What Career Should you Actually Have?” My results?  Astronaut.  The description read, “You are an explorer.  You are curious about the world around you and the way it works.  You look at things closely, and often with a different perspective than anyone else.  You’re quite unique, lucky you.”  I’m laughing because I just watched the newly released footage of daredevil Felix Baumgartner as he jumps from 24.5 miles (39.4 km) in the sky.  The entire time I was thinking that I have no interest in doing anything even remotely related to that.  The idea of being enclosed in the space suit alone fills me with dread of claustrophobia.  So, my lack of consideration of those surveys was confirmed.  However, then I read the “Other occupations” suggested: researcher, teacher.  I’ve been a researcher and I am a teacher.  It’s true; a teacher does need to be ‘an explorer’ and to be ‘curious about the world around him’.  I especially feel strongly about the need for these characteristics in a science teacher.  But then I also realized that I just took a survey that told me I should actually have the job that I have!  And I do love my job.  I love the students.  I love my colleagues.   I love the daily routine that isn’t routine.  I love how I feel energized by what I do.  I love keeping myself abreast of the “newest” in Science.  I love learning and exploring more about pedagogy and assessment.  It is, indeed, a wonderful way to spend one’s days and I don't ever think I should have taken another path.

12th and 6th grade alike?

They’re between the ages of 16 and 18.  They are IB Year 2 Biology students.  They are applying for college and looking forward to being on their own next year.  They can think critically and debate.  They can grasp high level content.  They challenge ideas.  They are aware of global issues. 

Then, within in minutes of their departure, the “little” ones walk in.  They are energetic.  They laugh spontaneously at the silliest things.  They can’t find their notebook.  They don’t have a pencil.  They pull out a crinkled, torn lab paper from the bottom of the backpack.  They are filled with wonder and thrill in discovery.

I teach 12th and 6th grade students.  On the one hand they are so different but on the other hand I am amazed at the similarities.  The most surprising discovery for me is how much my 12th graders enjoy activities that years ago I considered “beneath them”.   Last year, after a special training course on teaching English language learners, I trialed some hands-on learning activities on my seniors. Truthfully, I thought these activities would only work on my middle school students.   I mean, what 17-year old is going to want work out biological pathways through handling laminated images?  Well, I was wrong.  They LOVE it.  So, I’ve incorporated these “best practice” activities such as sequencing of sentences to form a paragraph on genetic mutations or matching laminated vocabulary words on evolution with their corresponding definitions.  Whenever I present such an activity, my older students become excited and eagerly move into position to participate.  Like the 6th graders, they learn well when they are hands on with the content.

Both grades are unique.  Both grades love learning, especially when they are engaged.  Both grades are a joy to teach.  So yes, they are alike!

From a 16-year old: Classroom Structure

I just came back from a walk with my HS daughter.  She gave me a huge run-down on why students take some teachers seriously and others not so seriously.  She has determined it all has to do with whether the teacher has structured lessons or not.  I pressed her to describe what she meant by “structured lessons” and she explained that as a student she needs to know where the lesson is headed and what the goals of the lessons are.  She also said that assignments, homework especially, need to fit with class-work .  “Basically,” she summarized, “there needs to be purpose”.  So there you have it.  From a 16 year old.

Lab Reports - Are they Worth It?

I realized I didn’t want to do it.  I had this urge to just say, “forget it”, lets draw the carbon and water cycles instead. But there they sat, my students looking up at me with the lab report guidelines in their hands. I took a deep breath, suppressing the feeling of dread but still wondering, "Is it worth it?"

The 8th graders had just completed another fun lab on combustion enabling them to observe and indirectly measure the production of carbon dioxide in a “chamber” where combustion had taken place. The standards for this lab include writing up the lab report to include all the proper elements. I just sat there dreading the “pulling teeth” component of guiding students through the process and continued pondering whether it was worth it.

I also have to modify for learning support and English language learners so as I’m juggling three different rubrics I’m still tempted by those carbon and water cycles. 

Finally, I plunge in.  I pull up a template and we begin with the title page and introduction.  I have them start with just that.  It always amazes me how long each step takes, even just getting the format of the title page.  Why should I be surprised?  It’s always the same and it’s precisely why I had to suppress dread that was attempting to creep in.

However, as I see perfect title pages appear on computer screens throughout the classroom, I start to feel a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.  I’m energized to carry on.  They start writing their introductions.  It’s not so bad.  My heart swells with compassion and a desire to see them succeed.  Suddenly, the dread is gone and my slate is clear.  I’m ready to tackle this.  And, it IS worth it.

Teachers: How do you teach lab report writing?  Do you use a rubric?  Do you use templates?  We’ve streamlined our lab report rubrics from the 6th grade adding incrementally the expectations leading students to the IB standards in Grades 11 and 12.  The format is all the same for all the classes in grades 6-12, regardless the teacher.  It’s very consistent and effective in training students in the lab report write-up. 

Adaptations: Failed It!

We completed a joint construction.

They had a rubric.

They had an exemplar.

They referred to the rubric during the entire process.

So what went wrong?

Today my 6th graders proudly hung their posters for assessment and viewing.  The assignment was to research a particular arctic animal and report on the adaptations that animal has to its habitat. 

I hear my colleague's voice loud in clear in my head, “Now remember, your adaptations have to link directly to the habitat you have described—how does that specific adaptation help your animal to survive in its habitat?”

We have done this project together before. 

We’ve refined it.

It seemed perfect.

So what went wrong?

I saw students checking off the items from the rubric.

I consulted with them.

The co-teacher and I both viewed their words before the printer was engaged.

So what went wrong?

The posters are a disaster.

Not one student fully grasped the concept of connecting the adaptations to the habitat and that was the main point of this project!

So now the conundrum: Do I have them redo it?

I should.

Mastery ought to be the expectation.

But the time it will take.

It’s like pulling teeth.

It’s probably worth it. 

So back to the drawing board.

Revisit the standards.  Rework the rubric.

It’s worth it.  I think.  I hope.

Combustion: Nailed It!

“What do you think will happen?”

“I think the water will go down”, stated one.

“I think the candle will go out and then the water outside the glass will rise”, added another.

“I think the candle will keep burning” hypothesized a third.

On it went.  I smiled with each suggestion, anticipating their surprise when the results actually came in.

Before them sat a tea candle secured to the bottom of a glass dish.  They had read their procedure and had been instructed to hypothesize as to what would happen to the level of water in the experiment.

After they had written their hypotheses, I allowed them to carry out the experiment.  Deliberately they added the water, being careful not to add too much.   Conscientiously they lit their candles, observing all safety rules.  Then they delicately covered their lit candles with the jar and eagerly placed their faces at eye level with the candle and peered at their experiments through their goggles.  The flame extinguishes and the water is pulled into the jar, rising up over the candle. 

This is my favorite moment: the instant they observe something totally unexpected.  Their mouths drop open, their faces lighten, they smile, and their eyes glisten with excitement and discovery. They look at me.  I encourage them to explain what they have observed.

We then begin a great discussion on combustion.  They easily identify that the reaction consumed all the available oxygen in the jar resulting in the extinguished flame. 

I refer them to the combustion equations we’d balanced earlier.

“Hey, more oxygen is consumed than carbon dioxide is produced”, notes a student leading the group to talk about density of particles inside the jar as compared to outside the jar.  How I love when they lead the way!

I ask them about the role of the flame.  They then talk about heating up the air particles only to have them cool down again when the flame is gone.

It takes a little time but then they finally make the connection between the particle density and temperature change (ultimately, the air pressure) causing the water to be “drawn up” into the jar.  There is something so satisfying in seeing the “lights go on” as each student grasps what has happened. 

Of course they have to repeat the procedure several times.  Anything with a flame is worth repeating.  As long as they can explain combustion and its role in the experiment, I’m happy! They clean up and depart the classroom beaming and vibrant with newly acquired knowledge.  And that is why I teach Science!

Garbage Audit: The contents of a teacher's bag

The bag is set on the floor with the others, awaiting its sorting.  A student grabs the bag and brings it closer to the sorting bins: plastic, metal, paper, and cardboard.  The bag is opened and the sides are rolled down for easier access to the contents.  The aroma of coffee and tobacco emanate from the bag. “What is all this?” queries Max as he plunges his gloved hands into the bag, “it is really disgusting.”  His British accent really emphasizes the word “disgusting” drawing my attention.

He begins filtering through a mound of coffee grounds that seem to coat every item in the bag.  “Are coffee grounds biodegradable or miscellaneous waste?”   Max begins scooping the grounds into the appropriate bin.  “Geez, someone likes coffee.  Is it possible to drink this much coffee in a day?”  Max continues to uncover cigarettes, multiple cans of energy drinks, nicotine gum packs. 

“Isn’t this a contradiction?”  He holds up his evidence.

The students analyze the finding of cigarettes juxtaposed to the ‘quit smoking gum’.

“Well, maybe he’s trying to quit but just hasn’t managed it yet”

“Yeah maybe all the energy drinks are a substitute as well”

“Yeah, and all the coffee too”

The bag is a manifestation of a struggle with a simple and common addiction.  I try to imagine a teacher finding time to smoke all those cigarettes (since it’s not allowed in the building), make and drink all that coffee, and juggle the energy drinks and gum while teaching.  It can’t be easy.

Then, my bag is up for sorting.  Paper towels soaked in all sort of things.  A dead fish from my tank.  Plant particles.  Fresh liver.  The biology students attempt to explain the contents. However, the sorters remain firm in their judgment.   “Um Dr. Markham, no offense, but the garbage from your room is the most disgusting of all”.  Of course I’m thinking, “Just wait until you get to the cafeteria bags”.

Well, I was wrong.  It turns out the biology classroom garbage bag was the worst.  So, I ask myself, “Are the contents of a teacher’s garbage revealing?  Absolutely. However, I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed by mine.  

Elementary Enthusiasm

I have the opportunity to offer science support to the elementary teachers at our school.  This has proven to be one of the most enjoyable things I have done.  First of all the elementary teachers I work with are amazing and they are so incredibly open to new ideas and to improving the learning experiences in their classroom so it is an absolute joy to work with them.  Second of all, those little elementary students are just so cute!

Just picture a third grade class.  The classroom is warm and inviting with an appropriate amount of student work and teacher scaffolding hanging all around the room leaving one with a sense of the great activity that happens there without overwhelming or cluttering the space.  True to form, when I walk in, the students simmer with excitement.  It doesn’t matter what I bring, it can be beakers and water, they greet me with eager anticipation.  The teacher has prepped them and they clearly cannot wait any longer for my arrival.  There is something about a guest from “the upper school” and when she brings cool and interesting things it’s just over the top fun. 

They seat themselves on a colorful rug in a circle around the portable white board.  I launch into a discussion of Newton’s laws with pictures and diagrams.  They soak it all in.  Then I explain that we will be conducting our own set of experiments to determine whether we can observe these laws ourselves.  They almost can’t contain their enthusiasm as I set out plastic cups, a notecard, and a coin for each of them.  We place the card on the cup with the coin on top of the card, preparing for an example of the Law of Inertia.  I ask them to hypothesize what will happen when they quickly pull away the card.  They can process that, according to the law we just discussed, the coin should fall into the cup but they can’t quite make themselves believe it.  So, they carry out the experiment. Almost immediately one boy, with all the energy his little body could possibly hold, leaps to his feet in complete wonderment and exclaims, “So Newton was right!”

I love those little ones and they inspire me as I head back up to my classroom in the upper school.  I know there is a way to ignite similar, albeit it differently expressed, enthusiasm in my seniors.  

On the Lighter Side: Classroom Pets

Two years ago some well-meaning IB students decided I NEEDED a classroom turtle.  I was hesitant as I was happy with my simple fish tank, especially when considering long breaks like Christmas and summer.  However, the students said they would get everything and set it up so I consented.  I let the students handle the entire situation and before I knew it there were two turtles, each named after a boy in the class.

Isn’t that a violation of Parenting 101?  You never name a pet after a child, as you do not want the child identifying with the pet in the event that the pet dies.  So there I was with two turtles named after two students.  One student’s parents were transferred at Christmas so that eased the stress of “What if a turtle dies?” Well, shortly after his departure, a turtle did die.  It took some convincing but I was able to assure the class that the deceased turtle was, indeed, the one named after the student who had moved. 

The remaining turtle has been a little companion for two years now.  He actually has personality and reacts frantically when I walk into the room.  His little head follows student movement in the classroom and he takes food from their hands, much to their delight.  Sometimes he glides to one end of the tank and then swims backwards, glides again and swims backwards.  It’s so adorable and brings visitors from all over the school, including elementary kids.  Most of all, however, I love how he brings big 12th grade boys to a state of absolute intrigue, especially when testing whether the turtle would eat mealworms left over from their transfer of energy experiment.

I’ve always had a fish tank in my classroom.  It’s easy.  It’s pretty.  It’s relaxing.  I read somewhere that people who spend a portion of each day observing a fish tank have lowered stress in their lives.  So, it seems like a good thing to have.  The students are always checking on the fish and it provides pleasure.

However, this past Christmas holiday disaster struck.  As soon as I entered my classroom I immediately observed mass death in my fish tank.  Of the 15 healthy fish I left before the break, only 3 stragglers barely moved in the tank, appearing to hang on for dear life.  What happened?  Did my colleague forget to feed them or put in the vacation tablets?  Why is the filter not running?  Upon closer inspection I discovered that someone, probably with good intentions of safety and/or energy conservation unplugged all electrical devices in my room, including both the heater and the filter system of my fish tank.  The dreary scene in the tank was disheartening.

I’ve transferred these three die-hards to a new tank while the old tank is cleaned and primed for new use.   I feel a strange attachment to them as “survivors”.   They have become a symbol of perseverance and are currently the highlighted feature of the classroom. The news of their traumatic experience has spread throughout the school and lured people to come visit these amazing little creatures again providing both staff and students with a sense of interest and hope.

Despite the risk of loss that living creatures bring, I think a biology classroom should have pets.