Kelly Savino on wed 2 nov 11
Three cheers for teens and preteens and the people who "get" them. The very=
thing that makes people crazy about teens is the thing that makes them ama=
zing: a new autonomy, a hestiation to follow instructions, an excitement ab=
out their newfound power.
I spent three days last weekend with 14 of my girl scouts and 5 from a visi=
ting troop, in a cabin at Camp Libbey -- fall leaves, night hikes, hooty ow=
ls, storytelling, cooking and sitting by the fire. They were all 12-13-14 y=
ears old.
The other leader had a schedule. Once everyone had arrived she came to me w=
ith the book and her list -- "we need to round up the girls! Time for an ic=
ebreaker activity!"
I led her into the bunkhouse and said, "look." All the girls had introduced=
themselves and were sitting in a pile of sleeping bags, lying across their=
luggage or leaning on each other, singing. Two had brought ukeleles. They =
were singing Bruno Mars tunes, or gross songs about little green frogs squa=
shed by a car -- not the old girl scout songs, but new traditions. Laughing=
. Telling stories. You're going to interrupt that because your list says it=
's time to impose some grown up's idea of an icebreaker activity?
The whole weekend went that way. Other leader had a dull chapter bookmarked=
in a textbook about trees, and I worried that she was going to make them s=
it inside and listen to it... so I got up early and walked the trails, gath=
ering bright leaves from walnut, cottonwood, sycamore, all the assorted oak=
s and maples. Came back to the cabin and fake-laminated them between strips=
of clear contact paper, cut them out like playing cards, and wrote the nam=
es of each leaf on the front with sharpie. Dealt them into three piles for =
a scavenger hunt, along with rose hips, different pine needles, and those c=
urly gripping-hands from wild grape vines.
Three teams, no adults. That's their favorite part when we do animal tracks=
at snow camp. They were out there for two hours, LOOKING. Not hiking along=
yapping or watching the trail or their feet, but really seeing colors, tex=
tures, details of the forest. All three teams brought home stuff that wasn'=
t on the list just to show everyone because it was cool -- mossy bark, an o=
wl pellet, a seed pod, a speckled stone. And they know the names of the tre=
es now. Hmm, where did that tree textbook go? Somebody must have put it und=
er this pile of coats...
These girls are tall and short, skinny and fat, graceful and awkward, brill=
iant and challenged. They are Christian, Muslim, atheist and Hindu, omnivor=
e, locavore and vegetarian, pale and dark skinned. Some are show offs and s=
ome are shy. One kayaks in a skirt and one has two moms. But they all can m=
ake it to the top of the rock wall, start a fire, solder a circuit, throw a=
pot or a tomahawk, knit a scarf, shoot an arrow, hike a cave or a canyon, =
paddle a canoe, bait a hook, drum a table rhythm and find their way home.
Between last year and this more than half of my girls became young women. T=
here's a wide, weird world out there full of dangers and distractions, drug=
s and pregnancies, unhealthy relationships and screwed up hollywood role mo=
dels. Girl scouts is about learning to love the land, and about courage, co=
nfidence and character. Teachers like mel and john, and organizations like=
GSA, provide a compass for teens in this amazing, bewildering "larva stage=
" -- here's hoping that wherever they go in life, my girl scouts will alway=
s be able to find their way home.
Yours
Kelly in Ohio
teenagers rock
http://www.primalpotter.com
mel jacobson on wed 2 nov 11
i was just reading john post, and images of
my teaching rush into my head.
dumpster diving sort of was how i lived
my life with kids.
the central admin of the school had a warehouse.
it was full of stuff. all the paper, art supplies from
past years and all kinds of other stuff filled the place.
teachers would `order` stuff from central office.
i went there.
i had an old pickup truck. i would roam around
looking for stuff i could use for art ideas.
hank the warehouse guy was really a great guy...he would
tell me...`hell, take any of this crap you want...the principals
think it has value. dorks and hoarders`.
a great deal of the stuff was really outdated...like post
war. just sat there.
when teachers would leave the district their rooms would
be emptied. all the stuff would be taken to `the warehouse`.
boxes of old masking tape, crayons...stuff like that.
i would take it all.
one day i found a huge box of candles from the science dept.
i took them all...and then i thought...melted crayons.
i had like 500lbs of old wax crayons.
i had old drawing paper, reams of it..so.
i found some old foil, made candle cups, and then put out boxes
of crayons...and six classes in a row melted crayons on paper.
they would not stop...it went on for a week. kids brought in better
candles, they cut up old colored paper and glued and melted collages,
they stacked color, used toothpicks to draw in the wax. it went
on and on and on.
i just left them alone. worked on a big painting that i was doing.
they would rush up...`mel, look at this one...blue on blue on blue.`
`nice sarah..what do we call that...?` `everyone knows that, monochromatic=
`.
these were all 14 and 15 year olds...you know, kids that were in-between,
the ones no one can stand. hormone city. i loved them.
if you could turn them, give them their heads...it was magic.
the energy was like the inside of a boiler. it was never teaching.
it was leadership. give them an idea, let them have all the stuff they
needed, and even more. the dynamo started.
if you are frightened of candles, kids, hot melted wax...well stay home
as a teacher. i had to use an ice scraper to get the wax off the floor
at the end of the project...(no, a kid ran the ice scraper (think tom sawye=
r.)
) then they wanted to get a camp stove and melt all the scrapings...
we did not do that.
when john talks about the `smart ass` kids...i smile out loud.
i would bug kids, tease them, tell crazy stories and they would
come back at me like charging bulls.
when the secret announcement would come that we were having
a `fire drill` i would think..fire drill? my art room was in the basement.=
.and i would
have to tell the kids about orderly evacuation. `don't run
and trip other kids...keep your heads...exit here`...that sort of
thing...then when the siren would go off...i would scream `FIRE`
AND RUN LIKE A MAD MAN UP THE STAIRS`. i still get notes
from kids that are now like 60 telling me about the joy of fire drills.
fire drills were like a metaphor for the `joy of teaching`. mocking the
serious system was always a part of the creative process. the idiotic
rules and systems that basically kids know is `silliness`.
they have heard fire drill rules since first grade. know them by heart.
i always called it `rules and policy` so no teacher had to think for themse=
lves
and creatively solve very complex issues with kids. we did not do `crime a=
nd
punishment in the art room. we solved problems.
anyway...interesting stuff.
i feel the same way today. i treat every neighbor kid differently.
each one is a self contained human. they are all different.
and, they all get talked with, almost every week. i do a lot of
listening. they tell stories.
we now have 17 kids up our block. i know every one of them.
and, they trust me. but then, where else will they find an old guy
that can repair anything they own, including their computer.
(i just gave obduli one of my old dell tower comps h is a really
smart kid...he loves it. and `duelly` is a mechanical genius and
he got an old lap top. and sarah next door goes to jr. college and
i found a really nice dell newer/used lap top that i gave her for high scho=
ol
graduation. you should have read that thank you note...make you cry.
mel
from: minnetonka, mn
website: http://www.visi.com/~melpots/
clayart link: http://www.visi.com/~melpots/clayart.html
Eleanora Eden on wed 2 nov 11
Hi Mel and all,
This was such a fun post to read, and it reminded me of a wonderful
episode when I was teaching high school English.
Yes, when we first moved to Vermont and I needed a job to float all
this, I got a 1 year job as an English teacher at a near by high school.
So, just before Christmas, I told all my classes that if they could get
this quiz in quickly we would do snowflakes.
Got out scissors and paper and away we went. Careful girls making
tiny intricate snowflakes. Careless boys making barely cut ones. But
everybody was doing it. Put them on the walls and the windows.
In the next few days snowflakes sprung up all over the school. They
were dangling from the hallway ceilings. They were everywhere.
Boy did I get in trouble for that one!
Eleanora
these were all 14 and 15 year olds...you know, kids that were in-between,
the ones no one can stand. hormone city. i loved them.
if you could turn them, give them their heads...it was magic.
the energy was like the inside of a boiler. it was never teaching.
it was leadership. give them an idea, let them have all the stuff they
needed, and even more. the dynamo started.
--
Bellows Falls Vermont
www.eleanoraeden.com
Margaret Flaherty on thu 3 nov 11
Man, I could've used you as an art teacher..or any kind of teacher...when I
was 15. I found my way to the moral equivalent of melting crayons all over
the basement floor when I discovered clay at 50 plus....on behalf of the
passionate adolescent that thrives in all of us if someone, somewhere shows
the way and we take it in, thanks for your service!
On Wed, Nov 2, 2011 at 9:22 AM, mel jacobson wrote:
> i was just reading john post, and images of
> my teaching rush into my head.
>
> dumpster diving sort of was how i lived
> my life with kids.
>
> the central admin of the school had a warehouse.
> it was full of stuff. all the paper, art supplies from
> past years and all kinds of other stuff filled the place.
> teachers would `order` stuff from central office.
>
> i went there.
> i had an old pickup truck. i would roam around
> looking for stuff i could use for art ideas.
> hank the warehouse guy was really a great guy...he would
> tell me...`hell, take any of this crap you want...the principals
> think it has value. dorks and hoarders`.
>
> a great deal of the stuff was really outdated...like post
> war. just sat there.
>
> when teachers would leave the district their rooms would
> be emptied. all the stuff would be taken to `the warehouse`.
>
> boxes of old masking tape, crayons...stuff like that.
> i would take it all.
>
> one day i found a huge box of candles from the science dept.
> i took them all...and then i thought...melted crayons.
> i had like 500lbs of old wax crayons.
>
> i had old drawing paper, reams of it..so.
>
> i found some old foil, made candle cups, and then put out boxes
> of crayons...and six classes in a row melted crayons on paper.
> they would not stop...it went on for a week. kids brought in better
> candles, they cut up old colored paper and glued and melted collages,
> they stacked color, used toothpicks to draw in the wax. it went
> on and on and on.
> i just left them alone. worked on a big painting that i was doing.
> they would rush up...`mel, look at this one...blue on blue on blue.`
> `nice sarah..what do we call that...?` `everyone knows that,
> monochromatic`.
>
> these were all 14 and 15 year olds...you know, kids that were in-between,
> the ones no one can stand. hormone city. i loved them.
> if you could turn them, give them their heads...it was magic.
> the energy was like the inside of a boiler. it was never teaching.
> it was leadership. give them an idea, let them have all the stuff they
> needed, and even more. the dynamo started.
>
> if you are frightened of candles, kids, hot melted wax...well stay home
> as a teacher. i had to use an ice scraper to get the wax off the floor
> at the end of the project...(no, a kid ran the ice scraper (think tom
> sawyer.)
> ) then they wanted to get a camp stove and melt all the scrapings...
> we did not do that.
>
> when john talks about the `smart ass` kids...i smile out loud.
> i would bug kids, tease them, tell crazy stories and they would
> come back at me like charging bulls.
>
> when the secret announcement would come that we were having
> a `fire drill` i would think..fire drill? my art room was in the
> basement..and i would
> have to tell the kids about orderly evacuation. `don't run
> and trip other kids...keep your heads...exit here`...that sort of
> thing...then when the siren would go off...i would scream `FIRE`
> AND RUN LIKE A MAD MAN UP THE STAIRS`. i still get notes
> from kids that are now like 60 telling me about the joy of fire drills.
>
> fire drills were like a metaphor for the `joy of teaching`. mocking the
> serious system was always a part of the creative process. the idiotic
> rules and systems that basically kids know is `silliness`.
> they have heard fire drill rules since first grade. know them by heart.
>
> i always called it `rules and policy` so no teacher had to think for
> themselves
> and creatively solve very complex issues with kids. we did not do `crime
> and
> punishment in the art room. we solved problems.
>
> anyway...interesting stuff.
> i feel the same way today. i treat every neighbor kid differently.
> each one is a self contained human. they are all different.
> and, they all get talked with, almost every week. i do a lot of
> listening. they tell stories.
>
> we now have 17 kids up our block. i know every one of them.
> and, they trust me. but then, where else will they find an old guy
> that can repair anything they own, including their computer.
> (i just gave obduli one of my old dell tower comps h is a really
> smart kid...he loves it. and `duelly` is a mechanical genius and
> he got an old lap top. and sarah next door goes to jr. college and
> i found a really nice dell newer/used lap top that i gave her for high
> school
> graduation. you should have read that thank you note...make you cry.
> mel
>
> from: minnetonka, mn
> website: http://www.visi.com/~melpots/
> clayart link: http://www.visi.com/~melpots/clayart.html
>
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