Tuesday, March 28, 2017

FRONTAL FREE: Coddling


Dave Smolar is co-founder of Kikayon Productions, creating turn-key solutions for Jewish education. Our “TORAH TIME LIVE!” Parashah Play series is now for sale!  From Creation to Mt. Sinai, click on “Our Store” for more!
Sometimes, someone I work with will overhear a classroom activity I’m doing with my 5th or 6th grade and peek in.  In fact, they might just listen in from nearby.  And sometimes I hear about it later, from them, or my principal, or feedback from a parent.
Of course, there’s always going to be a disconnect when someone partially observes your class or group session or meeting out of context.  Imagine you’re at work in the middle of an icebreaker where folks have names and facts of other people at the meeting put on a sticker and stuck to their back, and they must learn what’s on their back from having other people read the sticker, then they have to find the person who’s mentioned in the sticker and meet them and confirm the info…you get the gist. 
NOW imagine someone with no idea what’s going on suddenly entering the room.  They’re confused.  They’re out of place.  And maybe they simply write off what they’re seeing as a bunch of people screwing off at work instead of taking things seriously.  Considering that an icebreaker has many benefits to it, not the least of which is improving employee morale and boosting team bonding, what the person peeking in has to say about the activity, and how they couch what they’ve seen when complaining about it to someone else, can become altogether destructive to the office.
For me, this perfectly sums up the occasional unfortunate turn of events when a parent or shul officer happens to be near my classroom when my students are engaged in an energetic and even silly game.  If my students are tired and I want to build their energy and enthusiasm and focus, all I need to do is play a game, any game, that gets them on their feet.  Doesn’t have to be complicated at all.  Could be something as simple as having 2 teams of kids try to walk across the room by laying Hebrew flash cards on the ground in a path and telling them they can only move ahead after they’ve read a card.
While many teachers I’ve met will complain about having to teach grades 5-7 Hebrew school students, from what I’ve heard, the complaints seem to revolve around the fact that this age of students doesn’t like to sit still and be told what to think.  And if you think that you’re not necessarily telling them what to think, well, the kids are reacting to and rebelling against a passive and frontal style of teaching, having the teacher stand in front of the group and talk while the kids passively sit and presumably absorb the information.  You, dear Reader, might know by now that the theme of my blog, and what permeates my teaching efforts and educational products, is the clarion call to frontal free pedagogy.


I’m hoping and praying for a day when someone walks by and sees or overhears my class doing something fun, whether it be loud or silly or both, and rather than unfairly judge me and the group as flaky or irreverent, they assume that we’re find new and exciting way of making Judaism come alive.  I am not coddling the students by doing a fun activity, or a food-making activity, or an outdoor dance activity, or a play or songs or improv or artwork or anything else.  I don’t do an activity without a lesson attached, without a tangible takeaway, without assessment and follow-up and a depth of understanding for my students. 
My biggest mistake over the years has been not overindulging but under-indulging students in creative approaches to learning.  The truth is that Hebrew is more fun when you can keep the kids on their feet, and the kids who seem the mouthiest become the best leaders in the class, sometimes taking the reins on a project or activity and improving upon it.  So if you come by my class some time, and you see a kid whom others have written off for bad behavior, and that kid is now leading a class activity…and the activity addresses and explores something within our curriculum…and the kids are wearing masks or making funny noises or building something elaborate and cartoonish…please don’t judge.  Because the next time we have class, they enter the room laughing, they’re open with their opinions in discussion, and they remember and understand the material we explored during that activity.  And that is how we not only teach but inspire these students as they’re flung headfirst into the age of the b’nai mitzvah.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

FRONTAL FREE: Eraser


Dave Smolar is co-founder of Kikayon Productions, creating turn-key solutions for Jewish education. Our “TORAH TIME LIVE!” Parashah Play series is now for sale!  From Creation to Mt. Sinai, click on “Our Store” for more!
I’m not proud of it, no sir.  Therefore, before the world, I shall confess.  After these many years of teaching and tutoring, I am most suspicious of the kid who always volunteers to erase the board.
Not to be completely misanthropic, but keep in mind that empathy is a learned, and not congenital, trait.  So a child who perpetually volunteers to do some chore in the classroom is not one I emphatically trust.  I’d even go so far as to say that they’re doing it for, dare I say, ulterior motives.
Then again, you’ll never know what those motives are until you give into them, no?  So I let them erase the board, or clean the papers off the carpet, rearrange books, what have you.  And they do it until the day they take liberties, i.e. turnarounds.
I turn around, and there’s the kid:
·      sharpening every pencil down to a nib;
·      erasing the board after I’ve filled it with info for the next project;
·      putting their feet on the desk, leaning their chair precariously back on 2 legs;
·      making countless suggestions for improving the environs, including offering to open a window, close a window, move the thermostat, make paper fans for everyone;
·      and more!
But should I worry about this kid?  What do they really want, overall, holistically?  They want attention, sure, but also recognition of some sort, maybe even a closer relationship with the teacher.  I usually see the repeated behavior as a cry from a student who feels they’re not going to be noticed for the usual expected classroom interactions, like raising your hand and having something cogent to say.  So they’ve practically given up on participating and think I’ll give them equal standing for doing some light cleaning around the room.
They’re wrong.


I’m not upset when they offer to help.  I’m pleased, I encourage it, and I share my gratitude.  And I certainly don’t consider the kid to be rude or duplicitous or even cavalier in expecting me to fawn over them just because they’re tidying up.  In fact, I figure that if they want to be noticed, and they want to be put to work, I’ll make them an example. 
Stop the class 5 minutes before the end of the day.  Announce that they have 5 minutes to clean up.  And put the eraser kid in charge.  Then sit back and watch.
Do it every class for a week, a month.  And watch the eraser like a hawk.  Sometimes, they’ll become proud of their leadership role, which in turn might get them in better standing with their classmates, despite their possibly falling behind in their studies.  Because when that kid connects with another who knows what they’re doing, suddenly they become a chevrutah, and voilĂ !, you’ve solved another problem.
Sometimes, though, the eraser doesn’t like the attention drawn to them.  They want your confidence, not the spotlight.  Gradually, you might see them regress from helper mode and maybe even start finding reasons to leave the room, e.g. bathroom, water fountain, left my _____ downstairs and my parents will kill me if I don’t get it. 
I let them go.  I don’t stop the class.  And if they’re finding joy in finding success in avoiding the classroom, that’s when my boss tells the parents, and we try to conference to find the source of the kid’s behavior and how to amalgamate them into the room again. 
It’s all for the best, in the end.  The eraser doesn’t really bother anyone with their cry for help and acceptance, and if I let it go and see where it leads, it almost always leads to the kid find the appropriate way to handle their particular situation, or properly articulate on their particular complaint.  Heaven knows I was an eraser kid for a while years ago, that is, until I ran into the teacher who saw through me.  But I survived, persevered, graduated…and his chalkboard never looked better.