writing with ease

On the best day & in my wildest dreams:

Today I am full of thoughts and can write what I please. I see no reason why I should not have the same thought, the same power of expression tomorrow. What I write, whist I write it, seems the most natural thing in the world; but yesterday I saw a dreary vacuity in this direction in which now I see so much; and a month hence, I doubt not, I shall wonder who he was that wrote so many continuous pages. Alas for this infirm faith, this will not be strenuous, this vast ebb of a vast flow!

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1841, from Circles

craft as vessel

This whole craft thing intrigues me and apparently it can catch others, too. For example, Octavia Paz once wrote:

Made by hand, the craft object bears the fingerprints, real or metaphorical, of the person who fashioned it. These fingerprints are not the equivalent of the artist’s signature, for they are not a name. Nor are they a mark or a brand. They are a sign: the almost invisible scar commemorating our original brotherhood or sisterhood. Made by hand, the craft object is made for hands. Not only can we see it, we can also finger it, feel it.

Craft then is tangible and bears the sign of the craftsperson as if a signature was attached. And so it is with the master bricklayer. He can see his work as well notice the flaws of other workers whose standards are not so high. Further, an expert can watch laborers and decide by their movements and efficiency whether craft is being executed.

A craft also refers to a boat. But not just any boat: the boat as used by someone who is plying their craft. It's not just for seafaring or transportation. Instead, as a tool of an expert fisherman, the boat is an essential component of the craftsman's repertoire -- hence, the vessel is a craft.

These uses [of "craft"] were probably colloquial with watermen, fishers, and seamen some time before they appeared in print, so that the history is not evidenced; but the expression is probably elliptical, … [with the sense of vessels of small craft, i.e. small trading vessels, or of small seaman's art, and … requisites of the fisherman's craft. Oxford English Dictionary

Interesting that a boat was "requisite" for doing the work and came to bear the label that was also affixed to the work and worker. Not only was the expertise, fluidity and efficiency of the master fisherman labeled as "craft" but so too was the dinghy in which he did his stuff.

proper attire

Too much time in the ivory tower and not enough in the real world. Yesterday was the exception. Along with one of my recently graduated elementary education majors, we did some hands-on activities about sound. The last time I taught this topic with 3rd graders, it didn't go so well. The concepts of pitch seemed too far removed from their observations about vibrations. This time, the 5th graders seem to catch on. It wasn't until later that I discovered that the curriculum the district is using was actually written for use in third grade.

My host teacher was less than delighted by the children's behavior. While they were less than angelic, they were no more rowdy than one should expect on the day before a predicted snow day and less than a week from Christmas. Most of the kids were able to fashion "musical" instruments out of drinking straws. The moment of pure teaching brilliance was when we made the students put down their tooters and write down the steps involved in making these devices. They were focused and diligent. Here was what Andrew created:

procedure

Step 1: yous scizors to stratin straw and on a edge cut small triangles on It.

Step 2: If you want a claranet take the hole puncher and stratin the stem and punch holes and you have a clerenet.

Step 3: If you want a trambone you take the small straw and a big straw yous the infromation from Step one and just put the small one into the big one and pull it in andout and you have a trumbone.

That pretty much captured the essence in terms of what was done during the activity. That morning as I was preparing to depart for the school, the joke about prerequisite clothing was tossed around the house. From now on, I have a command I can issue for future excursions: "It's time to do some science: Bring me my pants!"

crossing generations

The Culture of Science Education: Its History in Person was edited by Tobin & Wolf (2007) and issued by Sense Publishers. It makes the effort to describe changes within science education research through autobiographies of notable individuals in the field. It arrived through interlibrary loan but it has enough nuggets from various people that it might be worth buying a paperback edition. Although I won't take on the task, it might be interesting for someone to do a content analysis of the editors' sections because they make frequent use of words like "attack" and "violence" -- at least with greater frequency than is common in academic texts.

What was striking was the juxtaposition of stories from the past with a pending talk about challenges and opportunities in the field. For example, Jim Gallagher mentioned a NARST session where he was strongly criticized for his use of qualitative "research" methods. First, it's helpful to know that the field has changed even though one might suggest that they have been almost imperceptibly slow. The other intriguing idea is to wonder how our current times will be viewed in the future. Will future science educators recognize themselves in our works? Or are we going to seem quaint and quirky?

Today I discovered the blues singer Son House who is said to have inspired Robert Johnson of crossroads fame. Through the magic of YouTube, I was able to watch a b&w film of Son House performing "Death Letter Blues". It's really a sad song because the letter tells him his gal is dead and when he finally reaches her she's already laid out on the cooling board. Despite how upsetting the tale, the guitar performance is stunning. With just the audio, it seems rather calm but when you watch him tear at the strings, you can't help but wonder how much physical pain the song caused his fingers. And the music is classic and timeless. In fact, more than I realized.

YouTube provided a link to a more recent rendition -- by the White Stripes! It's an amazing performance and reveals not only the genius of guitarist Jack and drummer-extraordinaire Meg (I am now under her spell). This video echoes the genius of the original blues musician. So while Jack is amazing on the guitar, he clearly owes his performance to Son House. So there it is -- across generations one man can influence others even as they take the earlier efforts to a higher level.

Bill Ayers, unplugged

With very little fanfare and no dissent, Bill Ayers visited UConn yesterday. He was exactly as I had hoped he would be: genuine, warm, and inspiring. Although many of us were pacing, he arrived only a few minutes late for an open forum with the faculty. While our Director wanted him to assist in the redesign of our teacher education program, he adeptly turned the conversation back onto us. As the conversation evolved, he found many opportunities to add his own stories that often connected to the topic but more often forged connections between the speaker and the audience.

He was just the same with his students. My favorite moment was when we walked into the auditorium about an hour before his talk. Ultimately, there would be 200 people in this room. But at 5 o'clock, there were four future teachers, all sitting in the second row, eagerly awaiting his presentation. So he sat on the edge of the stage and started chatting with them. As more students trickled in, I pushed them his direction, he would introduce himself to each, and the talk about movies and life and teaching would continue. Clearly, this was a man in his element.

At the end of the evening, not surprisingly, many students went forward to have their books signed. I was in the hall speaking with some other students so didn't witness how it developed. But when I came back into the auditorium, Bill was sitting on the edge of the stage again and students were seated all around him. The scene was only missing a guitar and the smell of weed. This may sound like a mockery of the 1960s but it captures the beauty of that era. People were speaking their hearts and feeling as if they were being heard. One of my advisees happened to be there and asked Bill's advice about a "life problem" about bigotry within his family. As was his way, Bill began with a story of his own struggles with his father's biases in a fashion that seemed loving yet insistent. The take-away message was that we shouldn't allow our relationships with others to pivot around a singular issue, now matter how painful. I do believe he was preaching love.

At this moment, I am forced to recognize the hate and evil behind the attempts to associate Ayers with the President. Do I know who Bill Ayers is? Not from just by being with him for six hours. And yet, his regard for every person (including secretarial staff) could not have been more gracious. While he had many stories he was liberal in sharing (in a sense that's what we were paying for and why people came to hear him) these did not overshadow the voices of others. In truth, I don't know that many people who are so good at listening to preservice teachers. The domestic terrorist imagery was more than a caricature: it was harmful and hateful. Goodness seems to have prevailed this time but it reminds us of the need to be vigilant. As an aside, my introduction of Bill was that educators often use timelines as a pedagogical tool In terms of a professional timeline, at that instant, each of us was at the moment that differentiated "Before William Ayers" from "After Bill Ayers." In part, this was meant to make the undergrads sit up and pay attention. On the morning after, I realize this is more true than I knew.