I'm currently staring at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wondering why my students can't understand the four quantum numbers (the 11th graders, yet!) and alternately marveling at the fact that my 10th graders understand natural selection. Speaking of, I'm about to eliminate this PB&J from the gene pool.
Done. (The PBs from Maputo, the Js local.)
It was beautiful. I gave the 10th graders a table of characteristics for six different flies. I asked them, in groups, to choose the two best-suited flies of the six. The resulting chaos was extraordinary if only because it was exactly the heated internal discussion I wanted to create. There was NO right answer. At first, they balked, but then they realized that there doesn't NEED to be a right answer with me, that I want them to just put any answer down as long as they think about the question. I nearly cried. It was a wonderful moment, because suddenly they understood exactly what to do and I was as unnecessary as I've ever been, observing the individual righteousness put an indelible mark into their minds of this lesson. What's more, many chose similar responses even though I made the table without any favor for one fly or another, and the similar responses came from groups sitting far apart.
They THOUGHT, then DISCUSSED inside their cultural framework and came to similar CONCLUSIONS (but not identical) based upon an abstract exercise. For an American educator, this may seem more trivial, but it's the first time in my year and a half that I've witnessed it on such a global scale.
And although the 11th graders don't seem to have a handle on quantum numbers (which go beyond "abstract" into the simultaneous realms of microscopic and unimaginable), I have confidence in my ability to get it across to them in the next lesson.
This week, I have loved teaching. If I were to go back to the States next week, I'd look to continue. A lot can happen between now and my return, but I don't see giving this up just yet.
Peace
John
