Lighting a Light Bulb

Electricity is practically ubiquitous in our lives, yet few people really understand how it works.  I'm not ashamed to say that I really suck at hands on activities, and working with electricity often frustrates me.  I can tell you all about the theory behind electricity.  I can tell you why metals conduct electricity and why non-metals don't.  I can even sound like I know what I'm talking about when I use words like "complete circuit," "voltage," or "resistance.  The truth of the matter is that I don't really have a clue what I'm doing when it comes to electricity.

 The thing is, I'm a smart guy.  I have a degree that says that I know how to teach math and science to students.  I've read all the books I need to read.  I should be able to do simple hands-on activities with ease; however, that's anything but the case.

Luckily, I am not alone.  Our nation's best and brightest also suck at hands-on activities, and some of them suck more gloriously than I do.  Even though they have learned about electricity in school, they cannot perform the most basic task with electricity.  Could you?

The question is simple: with only a D battery, and a piece of wire, can you make a light bulb turn on?

   

(You really should try it out for yourself.  It is surprisingly tricky, yet simple at the same time)

 Watch some MIT students struggle with this very simple task.

I posed the same question to my students today.  There were tons of materials laid out on the counter: battery holders, extra copper wires, fahnestock clips, masking tape, light bulb holders, and other electrical gear.  I told the students that we were going minimalist.  They were instructed to grab only one battery, one wire, and one small light bulb.

I told them their task, and I just let them go to work.

My favorite thing as a teacher is seeing which students are successful in which circumstances.  Sometimes the "smartest" students are quite inept when it comes to hands on activities.  I can relate to these students, having been in their shoes myself when I was growing up.  Sometimes those students who are "trouble" kids or who are just plain "lazy" really light up when they have a hands on activity.  I saw this happen today.

I have two kids in my afternoon science class who are daily struggles.  It takes multiple individual reminders and coaxing to even get them to get out a piece of paper and a pencil, let alone write anything down.  I try every day to get them engaged in class, and I rarely succeed.  I have seen brief moments of engagement from them, but the majority of their time in class is spent spaced out, slumped down, or off task in some other way.

Today was totally different.  While I was giving instructions, other students were being disruptive.  I warned the class: "We do not have to do the electricity activity today.  It is your choice.  If you continue to talk while I'm talking, we simply won't do the activity."  For the first time, one student (who normally won't even write his name down) was telling his peers to be quiet.  He was actively trying to keep the class attentive so he could get his hands on a battery and a bulb.  It was awesome to see him excited about science.

Once the kids had the bulbs in their hand it was great to see my two struggling students happily messing around with the bulbs and the wires.  They both figured it out fairly quickly, and were shouting to get my attention: "Mr. Maurer! Mr. Maurer!  Look at my light bulb!"  I was ecstatic to have some positive feedback to give these kids, especially because they get so little in school.

They had the extra bonus of watching their peers struggle with a task that they were able to complete.  A lot of students were asking, "Don't we need a battery holder?  Don't we need a light bulb holder?  How can we do it without two pieces of wire?"  The students who are normally successful in school are often the students who can comply with teacher directions, listen attentively, and ask for help when they need it.  Here the task was for them to figure something out for themselves, and they struggled.

I loved turning the tables on my class and seeing my kids light up.  I saw light bulbs go off, both literal and figurative, for some of my kids who haven't felt successful all year.  There's no other way to describe that scene than awesome.

Candy-Crazed Kiddos and Obvious Rules

I came pretty close this week to not writing a blog post because everything has been so hectic at school.  The kids were crazy coming off of the 3 day Halloween weekend, and it was a struggle to get much of anything done this week.  Any 3 day weekend is tough, but when you throw in copious amounts of candy it just seems impossible to get through content. 

At least I wasn't alone in my struggles this week.  Everyone at school was feeling the same thing that I was: disengaged kids, disruptive behaviors, disrespect, and a lack of learning.  The teacher next door to me blamed it (at least partially) on the full moon.  She said her farm animals are always crazy when the full moon is approaching.  If she can't corral her goats and horses during a full moon, what hope is there for teaching middle school students algebra?

A funny thing happened this week, and I think it was a huge learning moment for me as a middle school teacher.  In my class, just like in every single other class, the rule is that you don't talk when someone else is talking.  It seems like it is the most simple rule, but you would be surprised at the number of times students need to be reminded of it.  I was giving directions to my science students on a simple project we were going to do, and they needed to get out a piece of paper to write some things down.  While I was giving instruction, a group of boys in the middle of the room (the usual suspects) were talking.  I asked them several times to not talk while I was talking.

After I was finished giving instructions, I went over to the group to have a conversation about their behavior.  I asked them if they are supposed to talk while I am in the front of the room giving directions.  It went something like this:
"But I was just asking for a piece of paper!"
"But you were talking, right?"
"Yeah, but I was just asking for a piece of paper to write down the directions!"
"But you aren't supposed to talk when other people are talking.  When I am giving directions, nobody should talk."
"But how am I supposed to write down the directions without a piece of paper?"
"You could wait until I am done giving directions, or you could raise your hand and ask me for some paper."
"Ohhhh!! I should wait until after you are done talking until I ask for paper."

I could almost see the lightbulb turning on above his head.  It was as if this particular kid had never thought that he could wait until I was done talking to ask his question.  As soon as he had a thought, he would just blurt it out.  It seemed like a completely novel idea that he could wait, hold his thought, and say something when I had finished.

I think that teaching the why behind the rule is so much more important than teaching the what.  I explained to the kid that if he talks while I am talking, he will miss some instructions.  Not only that, his talking might cause somebody else to miss some instruction, too.  He seemed receptive to this conversation, and I think he got the idea that his talking can cause problems for other people, too.

This particular kid will still have trouble talking out of turn, it's pretty much part of his personality.  I'm not going to fool myself by thinking that this one conversation will fix all his behavior problems.  I'm also not going to fool myself and think that explaining why we have rules will work for every kid.  Another kid at the same table group continued to argue with me about the rule, even after I had this mini breakthrough with the other kid. 

I know that I am going to have to reinforce the rule over and over again, but I will try to keep this little incident in mind.  Most kids will behave if they understand how they are expected to behave and why they are expected to behave that way.

Teaching middle school is about so much more than teaching content.  I'm trying to make these fragile, distracted, immature, wonderful little people into productive members of society.  Sometimes you just need to explain the (seemingly) obvious.