The First Ten

What happens in the first ten minutes of your class? Grant Wiggins, the speaker I heard today in a workshop on the concept of "essential questions," posed this question as a side-bar to our main topic of conversation.

This may be where we win students or lose them. How many of us begin the class with mundane business, such as checking or going over homework? We all know that the first line of a novel or poem, the first scene of a movie, the lead in a newspaper article -- these can determine whether or not we will continue or check out. My husband and I have a fifteen-minute rule for rented movies. I have a 50- and then a 100-page rule for novels. How many times do we actually judge a book by its cover -- or title? How often to we teach the importance of an opening line in an essay? I even have a 10-minute rule for workshops at conferences -- if it doesn't engage me in that amount of time, I bail.

So why wouldn't we expect our students to react in the same way? What are we doing to engage them (or not) in those first ten?

When You're Weary...

We've had some good discussions lately about the how the students sink into a mire of slacking in the late winter and early spring. I am frustrated with some, who seem to be so wrapped up in themselves that anything that takes them outside themselves is a bother. Other teachers are frustrated with classes or parts of classes who are conducting the equavalent of sit-down strikes. It's hard to face the day-to-day frustrations and also step back and reflect on how we got here, but that's what we need to do.

Today I plan to talk to my students about loving your work, and as students that means loving learning. If you don't find a way to love it, or if you lose your love for it, then it becomes the grind that either drains you of all energy or that you must ultimately rebel against. But it comes down to being a choice -- are you going to love your work? Are you going to keep loving your work when it's hard.

That's where I am anyway. How about everyone else?