Category Archives: Manual Arts

“He’s Balancing A Diamond, On a Blade of Grass” (Dancing 101)

The last few days before break, Peter* – the tenth grade English teacher & senior Homeroom teacher in our SLC – spent time after school engaged in leading dance lessons. His vision: have all of the seniors of the School of Communication and Global Awareness waltz at their prom in five months’ time.

Starting small, a handful of students stayed after school days before their holiday break. Some happened to be engaged in board games, unknowingly witnessing the transformation of the classroom into a workable dance studio; the tables were folded away and the game players ushered to the walls, creating a sizable space for movement.

A half dozen of us then began the lessons of waltzing. Armed with only a single piano track and Elliott Smith’s “Waltz #2,” we patiently learned the give and take of the ¾ routine. There’s still plenty of work to be done.

What intrigued me most were the conversations that sprang forth – explanation of the typical male and female/lead and follow roles in dance lead to discussions of feminism that had already been well underway from reading The Awakening in my class throughout December. Likewise, the waltz lead to a lengthy exchange of cultural dances and a rushing forth to YouTube for songs students connected with, wanted to share, and felt worth explicating the importance of. I followed suit and shared my fascination with (and utter clumsiness at pulling off) Crip Walking. This too lead to discussions of power and representation and ownership of dances and culture.

Occasionally, students would walk past the door and peer in: Elliott Smith crooning through one set of speakers, a pair of students teaching left-footed teachers to salsa, and Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” blaring distortedly through laptop speakers. It was the kind of organized chaos that only comes from multilateral engagement.

And what if such practices became the centerpiece not simply in elective courses but in the core – standardized tested – classes? If the history and power dynamics of dance became the center of social studies? If we read the language and analyze the suggestions of performance and aesthetic? And what about Sousaphones? Once we’d gotten past the awkwardness of uninhibited movement, we were all engaged in understanding and in learning; in the three post-finals days at Manual Arts – a time that finds teachers finalizing grades and generally showing films and letting students hang out – this was the most engaged I’d seen students.

*As with many of the friends I work with regularly, I’ve mentioned Peter several times on this blog. His comment to this prior post is especially worth a look.

Students Respond to LA Times Column about Manual Arts and MLA Partner Schools

While my teacher email lists were abuzz with the fact that Fremont High School is being reconstituted, the LA Times ran a more positive spin on education reform in the city and it focused on Manual Arts. I asked my students to respond to the article after we discussed it in class. The general consensus was that Sandy Banks’ perception of the school did not match that of our students. I typed up a smattering of student responses to share with Mike and the MLA staff that you are welcome to read below. Personally, I think there’s tremendous merit in the work behind the Doolittle mural project and the school’s garden. However, I was surprised by the vitriol my students had for these efforts – the fact that emphasis in the column was placed on seemingly cosmetic changes rather than on changes that directly impact student achievement. I do think that students used this as an opportunity to voice concern about the school as a whole – not necessarily what MLA is presently doing. And, at the end of the day, I think that’s pretty reasonable; should students really have to care who is taking care of the barriers to their learning? The fact that they exist should be enough for them to don a tone of vexation. Aside from some spelling corrections, student responses are unedited below.

Sandy Banks’ column on improvement in Manual Arts High School could not have been more wrong and infuriating. As a student from said school, I couldn’t help but laugh at all the emphasis put on Manual Arts’ “positives;” all seven of them. I find it to be like a joke in poor taste. We have a little garden and a couple of people being paid to keep freshman from dropping out, but compared to everything else about Manual Arts, those things are barely anything but trivial. The truth about Manual Arts and all other schools like it is that it’s negative qualities outweigh any positives. If anything, Banks should have written about how Manual Arts needs improvement. By building up that little shit garden or not quite mentioning drop-out rates or other failures, we are giving those in charge of taking care of the school the chance to just walk away. I don’t like the idea of our help walking away thinking we don’t need anything because we’re growing vegetables behind some crappy building!

At Manual Arts, the change is successful when MLA came. First they gave money to clubs to make a difference. As a member of the Science Club, MLA gave money to my sponsor to make a garden. We made a garden that I thought was for everybody in the community. But the garden is not even open for everybody. I feel like MLA is changing the school but not helping students to enjoy a beautiful garden. Even though I helped make the garden I don’t have access to go inside it. Also, the article talks about money that every student gets. As a senior, I haven’t seen any of the money go to my education. I see the same old computers in the same classrooms that are really old. MLA is just making MAHS look good but not changing how students feel about it or how we are being educated.

I believe that this school should be reconstituted like Fremont.

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Why I Am Marching on Beaudry Tomorrow: An Open Letter to the Manual Arts Community

The following letter was part of a series of emails sent to the faculty and staff at my school. Though it may be short notice, I’m encouraging anyone else reading this to join me tomorrow (I’ll be the one wearing red!). More info here.

Call it naïve optimism, but I didn’t think that my UTLA shirt saying “A War Budget Leaves Every Child Behind”” would still be so relevant as we turn the corner into the year 2010. In terms of nationwide, statewide, and citywide policy and legislation, it’s clear that our students and our community here at Manual Arts continue to be the last concern.

Tomorrow, I will march with my union sisters and brothers because daily I am humbled by the efforts our community goes through to provide the best we can with the little we have. I will march and yell and oppose because our students are being silenced in political life. – Each student that is placed in a class that’’s too big with outdated materials or drops out or doesn’t pass the CAHSEE is another incident of our government and LAUSD and our school board turning their backs on those that have been ignored for too long.

I’m honored to march on Beaudry with such an amazing community of educators. I look forward to seeing you there.

Antero Garcia

“deny me and be doomed”: Reinventing Creation Myths

I fear that maybe in thinking about counter-narratives and the role of storytelling, I’ve been thinking too small. Maybe we need to start with a macro-vision of life in the classroom.

What would it look like for students to develop their own creation myths? In disrupting the “single story” of their neighborhoods and various cycles and pipelines that scholars say move our students around on a vast conveyer belt, perhaps it’s about having students reinvent the entire foundation from the ground up.

Travis, my SLC’s 9th grade English teacher shared with me the success he had in getting his class back on track through an introduction of mythology. Peter, our 10th grade teacher, will be starting Ishmael with his students later this year (a book also about creation myths). As my 12th graders delve into The Awakening, I borrowed a suggestion that Mark made for a different class, and showed my students this TED talk about the problems of the “Single Story;” it seemed most appropriate as a way of connecting Achebe, Conrad, and Chopin within the past month. I think also of Daye’s interest in Cargo Cults and the way they may act as a metaphor for deception in South Central.

I think the students would be properly situated in a foundation of already studied (as well as lived & experienced) creation myths. How about now reinventing them?

More Stories from Google Image Search

Related to the Google image search lesson mentioned in this post, my student today shared an activity he did over his break.

Passing the time during the thanksgiving break, Cristian typed into Google image search “Beverly Hills.” He said he noticed all of the clean streets and smiling white people. Next, he typed into Google image search “South Central Los Angeles.” The contrast is striking: power lines, fast food, gangs, police making arrests.

As a class, we discussed what stories are being told about these communities. What is being left out and why? As we continue to explore the dual cities in Los Angeles, how we’re able to re-mold the story being told will continue to be the charge our class will take up.

Thanks for sharing the lesson, Cristian.

Aggregated Search, Phone Photos and Talkin’ ‘Bout Mobile Media

In the past two days, I’ve received no less than five emails asking me if I’ve seen this article (I have now … thanks to each of you!). Apparently my research interests have been made pretty explicit at this point.

In any case, I was reminded of a couple of impromptu lessons I created that I’d like to share briefly, related to new media and its application within the classroom.

Google Image Search & Assumptions about Success

After a brief writing exercise in which students projected and wrote about their lives ten years in the future, we took to the Internet. As students described the careers they are interested in pursuing – doctor, lawyer, architect, astronomer, engineer, etc. – we typed each word into Google’s image search*. For the most part, the search results didn’t surprise – predominantly white, male faces showed up as the top results. (Try this, if you haven’t already.) As a class, we talked about what the search represented and why it was one that didn’t reflect our class and community demographics. The lesson was a place to continue our application of fancy words like “hegemony” and “counter-narrative” and to think about how this image search could be changed in the future.

I haven’t written this out yet, but I think a next step for us will be to simulate an aggregate search within the classroom on post-it notes. I need to tweak this, but perhaps it will be similar to an analog game like Go Fish or even Pictionary. I think if we can replicate a model where the faces of success look like the ones in our classroom, we can think more critically about applying the experience to the larger world.

* A student – based on his own “experiments” – warned me not to image search “nurse.” I appreciated his candor, but think that – in the future – that search will be ripe for discussion about gender stereotypes and sexual objectification.

Photographing an Argument

The next assignment was just as simple. Students needed to email or text me a photo they took somewhere in their neighborhood. They would then use the photo to construct an essay-length argument about their community. By the following week, students shared their photos in small groups and then hosted a class-wide curated slide show. (My students took all of the photos in this post in and around our school.)

Again, the assignment itself isn’t novel. However, I found it impressive how – other than a few students that didn’t adhere to the deadline and subsequently borrowed my classroom camera to snap shots around the school – the majority of the students were able to quickly text or email me their photos on time. That our school’s wireless network is faulty or not open to student access, that many students don’t own computers, and the many other concerns that educators have with technology didn’t stand in the way of students taking carefully constructed photos and getting them to me in a way that could be easily shared and projected. Further, if you haven’t been snapping photos on your phone lately, you’d be impressed with the quality. And hearing students discuss the angles, lighting, color, and compositional features of their pictures was also promising. Did mobile media revolutionize my curriculum? No. It did, however, validate the skills and abilities my students had and helped bridge them toward standards-aligned instruction.

A Few Summative Thoughts

Going back to the article that kick started this post, I guess my larger concern with mobile media isn’t if students are cheating or abusing their phone privileges. Instead, I’m interested in student positioning and understanding of the mobile device and of themselves as authors and creators. As we inevitably move toward the eventual acceptance of phones in the classroom, it will be useful for us to construct a foundation on which students can think responsibly about media and their role in consuming and creating it. This may sound like I’m either spewing abstract hogwash or stating the obvious to some, depending on where you stand on the tech debate. I’ll be piloting this theoretical foundation within my classroom later this year, with activities and texts ranging from cell phone ”Freeze Tag” (for lack of a better name) to diving into the words of Bruno Latour. Of course suggestions are always considered and appreciated.

Apparently Its Own Department‽

Saw this on the shelf in our main meeting room the other day and felt creeped out.

Fitting, considering that on the same day, Wayne Au spoke to my Critical Theory class about his book, Unequal by Design. If ever a picture deserved an interrobang, it’s this one (thanks for the link, Peter).

“Pandemic Right Here! Got That Pandemic!”

We looked at the clock: it was minutes before midnight. We were exhausted, the chips and guac had been exhausted hours before, and the dog had lost interest from the moment the events transpired. The only real reason we had to continue was because the fate of all humanity rested on our weary shoulders. Such is the sense of burden that is felt as we played through four different games of Pandemic.

A board game that relies on collaboration amongst players instead of competition, Pandemic finds players racing around the globe treating infections and feverishly trying to discover the cure before another epidemic wrecks havoc on the globe. In effect, the players are working together to beat the game; either we all win or – as was most oft the case for us – we all lose.

A game that can be played by anyone, we found ourselves deliberating every action and discussing (or arguing) strategy. We were metacognitive in our decision making process. We highlighted what failed in past games (deciding to ignore the wildfire-like spread of disease in Asia, for instance was a particularly terrible strategy) and relied on our various locations, cards, and other game attributes to eventually beat the game.

Exhausting and exhilarating, Pandemic is the kind of game that warrants careful analysis – the game’s design helps rupture any sense of confidence; at any moment all hell can break loose when another epidemic strikes. As a learning tool, Pandemic is particularly intriguing. By the end of our final game – we saved the world at 12:53 a.m. – we informally reflected on how our game playing adapted to the nature of the game, our communication skills, and the way the game’s design was a useful instructional tool.

As I continue to think about game play within the classroom, I think Pandemic and a general resurgence in board game playing is helping me distill the basics out of what is meaningful in a gaming and learning environment.

I’m in the middle of watching this great Google Talk by Pandemic’s creator, Matt Leacock.

Additionally, I’m looking to create a regularly meeting board gaming group to look at the role of social interaction and strategizing when playing. (I guess I should also mention I’m reading this and planning to work through the exercises, if anyone else in Los Angeles is interested in collaborating.)

At Manual Arts, Mr. Carlson and I have created the Strategic Gaming Club – meeting during lunch and after school a group of students regularly plays games ranging from Mancala to Chess to Hungry Hungry Hippos. And if we’re able to sneak in a few sessions of Settlers of Catan and Pandemic, I’m sure the world would thank us.

“Got that Pandemic!”

“Tell Them I Am Busy”: Comics and Counter-Narrative

One of the things that Mr. Carlson and I experimented with using during his intersession was comics. Specifically, we had students create comic strips through Pixton.

The best thing about having students create stories through Pixton is that it just happens. Other than guiding students through the registration process, Mr. Carlson and I never needed to actually tell students how to create the comics they would make. They just happen. After students made a couple in response to class discussions, films, or readings, the Pixton comics reached a tipping point with some of the class; now, students are regularly authoring comics and sharing their work with a network of other comic creators.

Because Pixton is such an intuitive interface, students are able to quickly generate stories or opinions on any part of the world they are interested in. What’s compelling is the way the medium becomes a mode for generally silenced voices to comment and critique life at Manual Arts and to punctuate experiences that are otherwise normalized through an adult lens.

Again, I can take no credit for the astute implications behind the comic below (if your browser isn’t getting along with the Flash window below, view the comic here).

more about “people’s perspective of MAHS by kflor1“, posted with vodpod