Things I Know 331 of 365: I’ve had three great loves

I was sitting in my dorm room my freshman year of undergrad when the phone rang. I could hear from the quiver in my voice that my mom had seen what happened.

“Josh!” she said.

“I know,” I said, “I saw.”

We were both pretty broken up. The call only lasted 45 seconds.

“It’s back on,” I said.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

It’s a rare day that I return to “In the Shadow of Two Gunmen” parts I and II, otherwise known as the second season premiere of The West Wing. I still tear up.

It was a point of contention between my friends and I.

“You have to.”

“I’ve tried. I just don’t see it.”

“C’mon, it’s brilliant?”

“Really? ‘Cause I had to turn it off the last time I watched it.”

“Give it another try. It’s exactly the kind of show you’d love.”

It wouldn’t be until Arressted Development came out on DVD and my friend Rachel loaned me the first season, that I would truly see the beauty of the show that launched Michael Cera’s career, brought Jason Bateman back into the public eye, and cemented my appreciation for the mind of Mitchell Hurwitz. Though the show was cut down before its time, I am among the throngs of viewers waiting for it’s re-launch next year and subsequent movie.

A backyard surprise party for my best friend Luke somewhere outside of Los Angeles.

The rest of the partygoers have headed home. It’s the first birthday I’ve spent with Luke in our 17 years of friendship and I’ve no intention of moving.

“But I don’t care about football,” I say to his business partner David.

“You don’t have to care about football. It’s not really about football.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I love The West Wing too. And this show might be better than The West Wing. It’s the kind of filmmaking I want to be doing.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Luke has jumped in. “You have to see it. I know you’re going to love it.”

“Clear eyes. Full hearts,” David says.

“Can’t lose!” Luke yells back in response.

Not until two months later, when I’m alone on the couch and they inspire goose bumps, do I understand the place of those words within the world of Friday Night Lights. One episode in, and I’m in love the way I wasn’t sure I’d ever be after Arrested Development or The West Wing.

I’ve said before we’re miseducating students if we don’t teach television as literature. In the same way I get lost in The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia or Lord of the Flies, I get lost in the words of Sorkin, Hurwitz and Berg.

The West Wing was the second language of SLA. We often drank from the keg of glory and called for the “finest muffins and bagels in the land.” We paused in moments of appreciation when our dialogue become “Sorkinian.”

If your impression of a chicken includes, “Chaw-chee-chaw-chee!” or you are well-versed on never-nudes, I know we can be friends.

More and more, I’m an advocate of teaching Season 1 of Friday Night Lights alongside a reading of The Odyssey. I find the dead-on portrayal of small-town life inspiring and too close to the truth at times.

I’m sure, or at least hopeful, I’ll fall in love again. Until then, these are the three great television loves of my life.

Things I Know 330 of 365: This is what I mean when I talk about authentic learning

The closer you stay to emotional authenticity and people, character authenticity, the less you can go wrong. That’s how I feel now, no matter what you’re doing.

– David O. Russell

I met my friend Andrew Sturm a few months ago at ReImagine:Ed. He’s about one of the most kind, thoughtful and creative people you could hope to meet. Among his other duties, Andrew was at Re:Ed to provoke by sharing his work with 5750 Dallas.

5750 Dallas is so named because there were 5750 men, women, and children who were homeless in Dallas at last count. Their goal is to reduce that number while guided by research that supports the idea that the best way to get people off the street is to give them a home and training rather than training toward a home. A model guiding by the organization Housing First.

Inspired by the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 5750 took to the streets populating public spaces with plywood cut-outs in the shape of homeless people holding cardboard signs with Dr. King’s words on them.

The signs also included things like:

A frozen yogurt store sells $250,000 worth of product every month. That could buy 500,000 meals for the homeless.

or

For what you spent on your iPod and music collection, you could buy 598 pairs of shoes for those in need.

and

On Super Bowl ticket gives you a seat for 4 hours. That money could give a homeless person a bed for two years.

The 5750 site has more information on the installation and accompanying next steps they organized for those moved to act.

This is amazing work that combines art, math, social sciences, civics, and English.

Why aren’t projects like this starting in schools? The creativity is there, the knowledge and resources are there. And I’ve  a hunch Sturm and everyone associated with 5750 Dallas would have been happy to work with teachers and students if they’d been approached.

These are lessons and unit plans waiting to be written. The algebra, research, persuasion and design skills here are all nestled snugly in the Common Core (though you wouldn’t worry about that if you were in Texas).

I’m blown away by the simplicity, beauty, and impact of the work of 5750 Dallas. Since I met Andrew, I’ve shared the installation with a few dozen people.

Think about it this way, what would students who designed and executed a project like 5750 Dallas know and be able to do when they were done? What would they feel compelled to do next? How long would that learning last?

Things I Know 329 of 365: Commenting creates space for teacher learning

If a teacher told me to revise, I thought that meant my writing was a broken-down car that needed to go to the repair shop. I felt insulted. I didn’t realize the teacher was saying, “Make it shine. It’s worth it.” Now I see revision as a beautiful word of hope. It’s a new vision of something. It means you don’t have to be perfect the first time. What a relief!

– Naomi Shihab Nye

Last year, as I prepared the write-ups of assignments for my 11th-grade class, I would send them to the two seniors who were assigned as student assistant teachers in those classes.

Those e-mails often included the subject line, “What do you think?”

I knew what I was trying to get across with the assignment and had a general idea of what the final products would look like, but that doesn’t mean I wrote about it as clearly as possible.

A day or two later, I’d have their replies in my inbox with comments and questions that couldn’t help but make my instructions better.

They picked out pieces of the alignment to SLA’s core values or wording in the rubric that was unclear. They also told me when I asked a greater time commitment than my kids could spare at the moment. As close as I was with my students, my SATs were closer.

I’d imagine someting similar happened this semester with my professors and the teaching fellows (Harvard’s version of teaching assistants). When we had questions or concerns over readings or other assignments, they were the first line of defense.

It’s what led me to suggest a better utilization of technology in the handing out of assignments – Google Docs.

My favorite cloud-based word processing engine and yours started offering a new sharing option in docs a while back.

You can share a doc publicly and allow commenting, but not editing. I used it a bit this semester when asking for feedback on my writing, and the applications for teachers or professors and their assignments makes great sense.

I would handle it just as I had handled the SAT review process in the classroom, and add assignment commenting as another layer of refinement. Students would add their comments and questions about the work in-line. I’d have a clear course for making things clearer and a leg up on improving the assignment if I planned on using it again later.

Aside from sharing the load, making assignments more accessible, and refining our work; the thing that excites me most about this idea is the modeling of learning that’s involved. With all the chatter around teachers being learners and learning alongside students, we don’t often offer concrete examples of how that can happen. This approach honors the authority of the teacher while also honoring the process of revision. It says to students, “I’m doing the same kinds of work I’m asking you to do.”

Things I Know 328 of 365: My brother has finals today

He’s 12.

He’s in the sixth grade.

He has three of them on one day.

Scantron’s included.

Someone stop this.