LitLife Blog

The Museum of Jurassic technology is unlike any other museum. For one thing, it resides behind a small shop front on a busy street in downtown Los Angeles. On entering, you walk through a catacomb of dark rooms, each highlighting an exhibit stranger than the last.

The collection has exhibits on topics including: the ability of bats to fly through concrete walls, a theory of memory inspired by an amnesiac opera singer, a fruit pit carved with an elaborate scene, a stink ant from Cameroon, and the dogs of the Soviet Space Program. Every exhibit has a different approach for viewing. There are microminiature sculptures the size of a hair that you can only see with a magnifying glass. There is a hall of “Floral Stereoradiographs” which you view with 3D glasses so they seem to hover, filling the hallway.

As you walk through the halls, you think, this has to be fake, some kind of a joke. But curator David Wilson is absolutely serious in his mission—making us wonder at the world around us.

Where it is: The MJT is located in Culver City, California. You can also find it online at http://www.mjt.org.

Bring it to the classroom: Even if you’re across the country, you can bring the magic of the Museum of Jurassic Technology to your class. Share images from some of the exhibits, and begin a discussion about how what we think of as “real” has changed over the years. Older students might enjoy a documentary about the MJT, available from its website. Also, check out Pulitzer Prize finalist Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonders by Lawrence Weschler, about the MJT and its mysterious history.

Two weeks ago I set out to drive my son to soccer practice and I discovered one of my headlights was out.
I decided to stop by my mechanic to see if they could squeeze me in for a quick lamp change. My teenager was in the car, my cranky dog was in the car, and I am sure it wasn’t a convenient time for the shop.  But Chase took us in right away, driving the car into the bay and letting the dog into the waiting area. He happily set out to change the bulb, put the seat back in its proper position and handed me the keys.
I asked him what I owed him.
“Nothing,” he said nonchalantly.
I reached for my purse and he brushed the thought away with a gesture of his hand.  “No worries,” he said.
Now this was ten days after Barack Obama was elected.  The stock market was still a roller coaster, more banks cried for help, and our Congress was mulling over whether to bail out the auto industry.  All those around me were joyous and hopeful and frightened at exactly the same time.  Chase could have easily charged me for the bulb, his time, and the inconvenience of my arriving as the shop closed.  But he didn’t.  I prefer to think he considered the fact that I have been bringing my Subaru to him for service since my son was in kindergarten.  I prefer to think he knew his kindness would be paid in full and even if it wasn’t, he was doing a good thing.  Helping another person in a time of need.   Rather than look at this as an opportunity to cover even the smallest of expenses, he chose to reach out a helping hand.

Today, my Subaru went into convulsions in my driveway.  On the way to see Chase, it had a full blown seizure.  With 115,00 miles on the speedometer I knew I was in for bad news.  But Chase met me with a smile, took my keys and promised he would call.  And he did, with the news that oil was leaking in the engine, but that he could fix it, and it would be ready by the time I got home.  I wrote a check for $798 and drove away.  Chase’s prior kindness was paid in full.  And then some.

Two weeks ago Chase didn’t have to help me.  All around him were harbingers of doom.  Everyone was spouting fear and worry.  Even those not immediately affected by the changing economy withdrew their purchase power.  No more charitable contributions, no more lavish Christmas presents.  All the turtles pulled their heads in their shells and waited for the bombs to fall.  Chase chose to see the world as hopeful, his cup half full.  I continue to be touched by that moment, and it reminds me that our job as consultants is clearer than it has ever been.

We need to see the sunny side.  We need to be hopeful.  To see the possibilities for change that a new administration and a new Secretary of Education may bring.  We need to take our heads out of our shells and move forward in hopeful ways. We need to lobby for what we believe in.  We need to stand firm, despite the anxieties all around us, and fight for what never changes – the right to an equitable, respectful education for all children.  So look on the sunny side, folks.  I’ll be right next to you.

Reflection for July 25

This week I sat in on several meetings, in which everything from bringing LitLife to Valhalla, RealeBooks and what teachers want in a new professional book, possibly dealing with classroom management, was discussed. One theme that stood out to me was the importance of relevance when introducing something new. Whether it’s simply the concept of reading or new assessments and teaching materials or health education from the United Nations, people will always ask the question, “How is this useful to me?” It is always frustrating putting effort into teaching someone something, asking them to practice it and to come back next week, month or year, and see no progress. I noticed this all the time when I tutored—kids lost the worksheets I made for them—and I know I my music teachers were frustrated when my scales were as messy on week six as the first week. This was brought up in the breakfast think-tank meeting when some of the consultants said they would give teachers ideas, worksheets and planning tools, just to see the materials get lost the next week.

I think this is the problem of the outsider coming into a new situation, whether or not they are very familiar with the new context, and trying to teach and impart knowledge. Programs like Teach for America and the Peace Corps, while they are important and incredibly valuable organizations, seem, to me, to send privileged people to give “gifts” to the disadvantaged. It has an element of the mentality that what is being brought is more valuable than what is already in place. Also, these programs are so short and temporary that I feel that most participants never truly being to understand the context into which they enter, although that certainly isn’t true for all. How effective will change in this manner be? Will this be able to implement long-run change? Can a few bright teachers dramatically change the way a poor school district teaches reading or math after just a two-year commitment?

This is why I think initiatives to create locally grown culture centers are so important—create literature bases and learning initiatives that are in some ways “grassroots.” Trying to teach people that literature is important and reading is relevant won’t be effective unless people see how they can use it in their daily lives, for passing down folktales and advice from elders, for example and see that it is not in opposition to their experiences but can enhance and supplement them. I see that there are still problems that need to be worked out; the RealeBooks program, for example, requires the purchase of a lot of technology and needs the Internet to get the most out of the software. How can programs like this be made more affordable to truly expand access to all those that do not have books? Also, the problem of introducing the concept of reading must come first and continues to be an obstacle.

I think locally produced books will also provide great insight into other people’s values. Mainstream America values education and monetary success, among other things, but these are very culture-specific. When students begin to write their own books, other people will be able to see what those kids worry about, what they focus on and what they value, whether it’s family, hard work or the power of imagination.

Over the past week, I have been doing research on Liberia’s education system. This has been incredibly interesting for me because, not only am I going to study abroad in Africa, probably in Botswana, I think it is both illuminating and important to learn about the struggles of another country that is not frequently in the news, but is facing an immense challenge. Civil war ravaged Liberia from the late 1980s until 2003 and the country’s relatively new government is currently trying to redevelop its infrastructure, including its education system.

The country is facing an interesting situation with regards to its education system. Less than half of all primary age students are enrolled in school and the Ministry of Education is working to implement programs that will increase this number and catch children up to where they need to be—80% of all primary school students are between ages 11 and 20, far behind in their education. However, just enrolling these students in school will not solve the education crisis. The quality of schools leaves much to be desired—most schools do not have adequate materials and few teachers are qualified to teach.

Another huge, and perhaps more daunting, problem is that much of the population, especially children, have been traumatized by the civil war that ended about five year ago. A lot of the information I read about programs to develop schools had money allotted for training teachers to deal with the inevitable psychological problems resulting from the widespread violence. I wonder how successful these programs will be and how the emotional damage from the war will negatively affect the effort to rebuild the Liberian education system.

This week I also had the opportunity to spend time in the library at Children’s Village, reorganizing the books. While there doesn’t seem to be much initial comparison between a war-torn African country and a community in Dobbs Ferry New York, I think the education work currently being undertaken in two places has more in common than I initially thought.

Working in the library, I could see the dearth of books available for the students at Children’s Village. While Books for Boys is doing so much to remedy this, just comparing my old elementary school’s library with that in the elementary school at Children’s Village, shows how much work still needs to be done. While the situation is not as dire as that in Liberia, both places face a lack of supplies that might hinder students from getting all they need out of an education. Also, both in Children’s Village and Liberia the emotional state of students needs to be addressed. Many of the students at Children’s Village have been though a lot in their short lives and, while their experiences could not be more different than those of Liberian children, both situations will require a lot of nurturing and support if they are going to advance successfully in their academics.

I wonder what types of support will be most helpful for students in these difficult situations. Criticism of the No Child Left Behind Act says that just addressing school failings will not significantly boost students’ academic achievement and that the “whole student” needs to be addressed and nurtured. Should emotional problems take precedence instead? I also wonder what role the government can play, both through foreign aid to African countries and aid at home for students who need more support.

Visiting with Patty Vitale-Reilly provided the opportunity to see a LitLife training session in action. The session was at a school in New Jersey for teachers in grades kindergarten through fourth. The teachers were developing “minors” for their “major” class units of study. Minors are basically mini-units that fit inside a major unit; they are important topics to cover but are not substantive enough to be a major unit themselves. The first part of the meeting was spent discussing how to choose a minor for a major unit. Minors should compliment a major—an example is having a minor in note taking during a nonfiction major unit. Minors serve to unite mini-lessons so that activities not directly related to the major unit do not seem disjointed. A minor can be taught in one week or scattered throughout the major topic.

It was enlightening to see the dynamics in a professional training meeting. What I found most interesting about this meeting was the process of how the teachers attempted to integrate this new practice into their prior learning. Most of the teachers had not used the terminology “minor” before and were initially not comfortable fitting a minor effectively into a major unit. They could create the lessons with ease, but had never had to do anything like fitting a minor unit into a major one before. When Patty explained how to do this, giving examples from handouts, the teachers found contradictions with other training they had received and methods they were supposed to follow – it is the dynamic, positive resolution of these issues that is at the heart of Patty’s work. There was also some question about when to teach certain topics, like spelling conventions, and how those topics should be taught.

Questions about methods of teaching, especially for reading and writing, make professional training for teaching reading and writing more complicated than I originally thought. Before coming to LitLife, I knew about a few types of teaching, such as Montessori, but I did not know how many different methods there actually were—and these discussions are over all aspects of instruction. Knowledge of these methods and how kids and teachers respond to them seems valuable for a teacher trainer to have to effectively improve teaching quality.

We recently observed a fourth grade class. The students were choosing their favorite poems that they had written and were re-copying them and adding illustrations to make their own poetry anthologies. They had divided poetry into units, such as list poems or poems about an object. The students included poems by other authors that they had enjoyed, or used as mentor poems when crafting their own.

After having seen the sixth grade poetry celebration at a nearby school the day before, I thought that I would know what to expect. However, I was once again shocked at their high level of writing and comprehension. They could easily pick out writing tools such as similes and metaphors. When asked what was personification, one girl’s hand shot up and she quickly responded, “Personification is when you give an object human traits”. I was amazed.

The students took great pride in sharing their poems with us, and also proudly showed off their anthologies. They meticulously chose which poems they wanted to place in their collections, and also carefully chose which they wanted to read aloud. They discussed with one another which poems would fit into which category, and which poems they liked the best. Often they placed mentor poems that they had used as a model, next to their own on a page to create comparison between the two. Though our stay was brief, I learned so much and was once again impressed with the fourth graders’ grasp of the material and the joy with which they crafted their poetry anthologies.