Spring

Those of us who live somewhere north of the 44th parallel hardly dare say the word spring aloud. If it is to be spoken, it is stated in a gingerly manner so as not to jinx the uncertain arrival of such an event. Our winter was particularly vicious this year with sub-zero temperatures lingering into March and raw winds unleashing fearful punches upon man and beast. No one is sure whether spring weather will arrive tomorrow or the middle of June. Blessedly, spring doesn't always have to be ushered in by milder weather. Sometimes it is an event or a tradition that heralds the vernal equinox.

One such event for me was the arrival of baby chicks on the farm I grew up on. After a long winter of being cooped up with siblings and cold weather monotony, nothing was more anticipated than the sight of a jittery mass of yellow fluff balls. My sibs and I would hustle out to the brooder coop and breathe deeply of the warm, earthy smell of chicks, feed and feathers. The heat lamp glowed with a comforting warmth that felt a bit stifling during lengthy stays. Watching the little chicklets scurry from side to side in their enclosure was great entertainment. There was always a little drama as certain chicks struggled at the bottom of the pecking order and others aggressively took charge, not unlike life in a big family.

Most of all we enjoyed the incessant cheeping. I think such a sound would drive me mad now but to the ears of a youngster, it was what spring was all about. New sounds, new sights, new babies, a promise of winter's demise.

The future of our little chickie friends was about as certain as the exact arrival of a new season. Some would not survive life beyond the brooder coop. Some would graduate to another barn and join the ranks of the egg layers, supplying my family with a bounty of protein. Others would join us at the dinner table with their delicious drumsticks and gizzards.

Our little kid minds didn't dwell on the fate of the chicks. We lived in the moment and savored the fun of picking up a warm, soft, cheeping harbinger of spring.  We watched them lose their little downy feathers and sprout leaner white feathers. Roly-poly shapes morphed and stretched into full grown chickens. Fascination gave way to annoyance as the chickens took over the yard and left behind sticky messes that were quite unpleasant on new shoes.

Spring, chicks, hope, equinox. Call it what you may. Seems like there is always something new around the bend. Sometimes it is best to embrace our little kid minds and savor the moment. Ice storms, raw winds, sleet and rain fade away when you have a little puff of yellow in your hands.

Happy Spring!

Different World

Most professions feel a certain amount of pressure to keep up with the technological advances of our world. Teaching is no exception. I've learned to love my computer, Smartboard and tablet. That being said, I confess that there are times when I long for a different world. To be perfectly honest, my teaching style still clings to the last gasps of an environment without computers.

A few weeks ago, my students were required to build a model of the internal anatomy of a frog. We were preparing for a non-virtual frog dissection lab. Supplies needed: paper frog, paper internal organs, scotch tape, scissors and colored pencils. Gasp, they were asked to use low tech supplies to complete a project with their lab partners. Gasp again, Google and computers were not necessary.

As I watched my students complete their task, I asked myself what it would look like in my classroom if I had assigned them a similar task using virtual manipulation of frog organs on a computer screen. My prediction looks and sounds like this. Silence. Eyes glazed over. Tapping of fingers on keyboards. Breathing. Hands raised for my help. More silence. More finger tapping. Activity done.

Contrast that with a low tech activity. Animation. Chatter. Giggles. Working with lab partners to complete a task. Messy scraps. Pencils sharpening. Discussions about sushi, little brothers, parents, high school, friends, TV shows and last night's basketball game. Naming paper frogs. Compromising on the color of the small intestines. Heads together. Sharing one roll of tape with six others. Running out of tape. Losing a stomach part. Finding the stomach part. Cleaning up. Pride in a completed frog.

I sense that my district would be much happier with me if I turned over my papers and pencils in favor of computer activities. Truth to be told, it would make my life a lot easier. Quiet students staring at computer screens. What's not to love?

Plain and simple, I long for a different world. A place where people communicate with the folks sitting next to them. A place where kids start talking about their likes and dislikes without being prompted. A place where completing an on-line worksheet isn't seen as more valuable than using a piece of paper and a pencil. A place where touch, color, talk, giggles, compromise and problem solving happen with other human beings. A world where Google doesn't tell kids what to do or what to think.

Would classrooms be better without technology? Certainly not. I don't miss chalk dust and creaky ditto machines. I want my students to be prepared for their future in a world of gadgets that haven't even been invented yet. But, please, oh please, don't judge me for letting kids experience a moment or two without the constant blinking and tingling of technology. Let kids experience, build, tell stories and look each other in the eyes. If only for a moment, let their minds wander, think and be still.

And most importantly, let kids believe that they are more important than devices.