‘TWAS THE WEEK BEFORE VACATION…

It is interesting the psychology of school children during the week preceding a week-long vacation.  Anticipation  kindles day by day until the  massive crescendo of glee when the bell strikes 2:15 (or whatever hour kids are released).  Generally, kiddos are less focused and enjoy reminding any authoritative figure that ‘we only ‘gut’ like three days til’ vacation, so what’s the point of learning stuff.’
It is the worst at the elementary level.  I remember having first grade art students on the afternoon on Fridays before vacation  and watching them melt into little balls of noise and energy, unpredictably blurting out odd noises and making sudden and seemingly involuntary jerking movements.

What teachers face is the problem of: You know what to expect the week before vacation– children frantic and unmotivated with only so many televisions available in the school to throw “Finding Nemo” on.  But what is the teachers response?

One method I’ve seen teachers use is the ‘Welcome to hell, pull up a chair” work week, a full on death march of learning with the promise of fun at the end of the busy week.  My friend Mike teaches history at a local high school and will at these times bust out his dreaded DBQ’s (document based questions) rife with long, challenging articles and advanced written responses.  Then, by Friday the kids are working on a 64 Dunkin Donut party tray and playing wiffle-ball in the classroom (Industrial Revolution wiffle-ball, that is).

Another way to go is having a major long term project due on Friday then celebrate with “Finding Nemo” or “Cars” and orange drink and triple-butter popcorn.   The idea is to work in class on the ‘big’ project so they’re focused (in theory) then fire up the ol’ DVD player in cinematic celebration.

This week my younger kids (5th and 6th grade) will be in  “What upcoming vacation?” mode– a complete  and utter denial of the inevitable.  They will work like young mules creating art as if the word vacation has not yet been invented.  They will work hard and like it, and if they don’t they will be invited to pretend that the work is fun until finally it becomes ‘fun’.  “

What the hell is “Finding Nemo?” will be written on my board on Monday morning.

The seventh graders, on the other hand, will be throwing squishy fake vegetables against a big wall of multi-colored targets this crucial week.  The ‘Color Scheme Throwdown” was a lesson I devised on accident.  We had been given a sack of novelty soft vegetables at a teacher workshop to induce kids with more physical learning styles into learning.  Naturally, upon returning to the classroom I was hit by some broccoli by a fellow teacher and what ensued was a ten minute vegetable war before first period between the two of us.  A couple of foolish kids came in to partake only to scurry out of the room when they realized how loud a squishy potato sounded hitting a wall less than a foot from their head.  They gave us confused looks as they backed out of the room and shut the door behind them.

After the battled wound to a halt (actually first period started and consequently ended the standoff) I told myself that I need to do something productive with the fruit beside terrorize my fellow staff.

What the kids do is create, on a big piece of paper, seven targets–one for each of the seven color schemes they learn about in the color theory unit.  The targets need to feature a color scheme and need to be unlabeled.  I then hang the target up on a wall.  On the floor I place tape strips with point values written on them (the strips further back being worth more points). The idea is for each team to accrue the most points. Points are scored when team members first call the color scheme they are aiming for, answer a question about the color scheme and then if they hit the target they get the points (based on when they throw it from).  Of course, we add style points (around the back and 360 degree, through the legs shots) for show-offs and bonus questions for kids who know the content but are not particularly inspired by tossing soft vegetables at a wall.

Last year the ‘Throw-down’ went fairly well, in my opinion.  The kids look back at it with fond memories.  It makes for a great physical learning experience, especially on the week before vacation.  You know darn well that in the end they’re gonna find Nemo and that there will be a happy, predictable ending to any other Disney flick you show them.  What cannot be predicted is the desire and drive and will of an adolescent throwing  squishy produce at a wall.

‘F’ IS FOR SCISSORS

 “Javany scissors?”  my students always ask.  Scissors are an important feature in any art room–much like having an exhaust on your vehicle. Without an exhaust the car will run (and sound awesome) but it is not the cleanest, most efficient way to run a car.  Scissors are a crucial fixture in the art room.   I would have said that scissors are a staple in my classroom but that could be confusing, like saying a door is ajar.

When I moved into the art room six years ago all the cabinets were labeled with letters and numbers.  The letters go to “L” and the numbers go to ten, except the ‘1’ fell off the “10” drawer so my drawers go from ‘1 up to zero’.  How’s this for completely messing with the minds of near absolute concrete thinkers at the middle school level?

I arrange my material in order of priority, regardless of the letter.  Thus pencils, erasers, scissors, rulers and other common items sit in the easy to access top shelves while charcoal, prehistoric paint, and my fabulous sun stencil lie in the bottom drawers.  (Note:  Any kid who needs a stencil to draw the sun gets put in the corner and they do free-hand ‘practice suns’ until they can draw a circle with lines coming off it) .

While I organize my drawers according to priority, the letters and numbers are labeled, regardless of the materials, in order top to bottom.  Hence, the priority of the materials and the letters and numbers do not relate.  For instance, scissors, pencils, and erasers are found in the “F” drawer, which happens to be a top drawer.  Thus “F” is for scissors.

Kids get confused and at times frustrated by the logic.  They expect scissors to be in the “S” drawer.  To their chagrin, there is no “S” drawer, and I calmly explain that due to the absence of an “S” drawer I have no choice but to put them in the top drawer labeled “F”.  They seem dejected and hopeless, like it’s a science they will never be able to fully understand–like me trying to do a rubix cube.

“Why are scissors in the “F” drawer?” they moan.
“Because “F” is for scissors…and pencils and erasers, as well.” I reply smugly.
“Why aren’t they in the “S” drawer?” they demand.
“Go and show me the “S” drawer and we’ll talk.”  I answer.
“But there isn’t even an “S” drawer!“ they retort, losing the battle now and realizing it.
“Yes, of course.  Because “F” is for scissors.”

The decree has been etched into stone for them.  They lumber off towards the cabinets and drawers defeated.  I call after them:
“H” is for tape.
“B” is for water colors.
“L” is for painting smocks.
“9” is for crayon.
“And remember…”G” is for glue stick!”