Theories of learning

In my studies, I have been surprised to find that while current teaching theory is based on socio-constructivist theory, where students are active in their learning and not passive, behaviourist theory still resides within the psychologist's world of bad behaviour.  My question is, how do we overcome this paradox?  We're told the students should plan, learn, and assess their classes together, but that we should treat the 'naughty' ones like Pavlov and his dogs.  That is, reinforce good behaviour with a smile and praise, and any bad behaviour by ignoring them.  I guess it's more complicated than that, but I was really hoping for a modern secret to dealing with naughty children in the classroom when I chose to take this behaviour management class.  I guess there isn't one.  

Experience has shown me that there are ways to tell a child they're not meeting your expectations that they'll be more likely to listen to.  Avoid shouting from across the classroom, or even from higher up than them.  Instead, proximity and being at their eye level work better as you're less intimidating and they're not getting the attention from the whole class.  Instructions on a more desired behaviour are helpful too.  I was such a shouter when I first started teaching.  Not just because I was at the end of my tether and had no other ideas, but also because teachers around me did the same and I was learning from them.  I hated it, the students hated it, it wasn't a very nice atmosphere.   

Pressure

So here's part of my issues: I have three huge assignments to do and they're due in...a little over a month.  Oh gosh.  I thought I had a bit longer.  My plan is to write and write and write.  But I've been really slow about getting started so it feels like the pressure is on.  Hopefully I have learned enough this year that it will be easy.  Unfortunately if I've learned anything this year, I've learned that writing takes me a lot of time, a lot of drafts, and a lot of rereading.  I am putting up heavy socialising boundaries until November as they are due between the 14th and the 24th of October.  So overwhelming.  I hope aneverydaythought.blogspot.com survives the crunch.

The rest of the crisis is unimaginable, I literally don't know how big it is myself, but I will know on Thursday when I hope it will all be done and dusted.  I will (probably) spill the beans about it then.  The thing is, on that side of things, it will either still need a lot of working out, or it will still be super uninteresting for all those not going through it.  Sorry to be so vague.  Just know that if you never find out, you can probably ask me in person and I'll tell you.

An un-post

You know what?  Life is on top of me and today I don't have any ideas.  To add to it all, our fish died yesterday.  Stink.  It's worse than that though.  Hopefully I'll be able to relay it all at a later date.  Or not.  Too be honest, it's not that interesting to you, just the dealings of a life that is sometimes private.  You must sometimes have things happen that overwhelm everything else so I'm sure you understand.  Don't worry, nobody's hurt.  I'm sure I'll be back tomorrow.  xx 

Jam and cream on your pikelet

I had two sweet little girls over with their mother to play the other day.  They are aged two and three and their mother and I bonded because we both like to talk.  Literally.  The day we met, we were told off for talking too much long after the meet and great had finished at church.  

As our house is lacking in toys, I thought we'd do some baking and eat it on a picnic blanket down at the playground on our apartment complex.  These girls are highly American in their tastes, I've never been able to successfully interest them in anything much other than Jbird's chocolate chip cookies as a snack.  In the past, this has presented itself as a dilemma but long gone are those days of my American-potluck-phobia.  I've got it all under control.  

They were visiting at morning tea time which I believe is traditionally just a light snack for most Americans, or a cup of coffee.  Not the bikkie and tea we have at home.  I decided that pikelets would be the perfect answer.  For you Americans reading, these are basically pancakes.  Except we add a little bit more sugar to the batter, they're only about the size of your palm, we have them for morning tea or afternoon - never breakfast or breakfast-for-dinner, and we like to eat them with butter, jam, and cream.  Or just jam and cream.  Or just jam.  Or sometimes golden syrup and butter.  Or just butter. You get the idea.*  And a cup of hot tea.  I surpassed the hot tea for the sake of wandering attention spans from the girls.  

It worked out really well.  I briefly considered adding banana to the mixture but decided that might be refused by the fussiest of the two.  I set up two chairs so the bench** was a good height.  They each had turns to add ingredients, mix, measure, pour, and flip.  Both mother and the youngest enjoyed them with jam and cream while Miss Three Year Old tried cream but decided plain suited her best.  The play ground was a hit, if only for the swings, and balancing on the low retaining wall around the edge.  The two hours zoomed by but I was pretty exhausted that afternoon.  It's nice to hand 'em back.

If anyone disagrees on either American or New Zealand cultural comments I have made today, please comment.  I won't be offended.

*Actually, I may have even enjoyed them with peanut butter.  But not really ever 'pancake syrup'.  It would be too runny and...well...wrong. 

**bench - counter top

I am courageous

I do not always love teaching.  In fact, I think I can safely say that there have been more moments where I have simply hated teaching than there have been the opposite, moments of pure joy in my profession.  Maybe it's just that those horrible moments are the ones I remember.  I have often wondered what was so wrong with me that I couldn't just get it right. Or when this 'hard phase' would pass and I would be able to teach with the ease of the experienced and wise.  

During my first, death defying year of teaching, I was told that it should take about six years to feel like I was in my own skin.  The idea of five more years of...what I can only describe as a visit to hell and back...was almost soul destroying.  Almost.  I cried a lot and then I got a new job, with some music responsibilities, and I carried on.  Into another hard year.  Then I had a six month music teaching job and felt almost cherished by the staff, and enjoyed some great musical moments, so things were a bit better.  But they weren't great.  I still felt like when it came to teaching, I was running backwards up a muddy hill.  Then I taught internationally.  It was during that time that I had my favourite class I have ever taught.  This class seemed inspired by myself and their peers and I finally felt like I was actually teaching more than I wasn't, that it was almost effortless.  Unfortunately, the thing that stands out the most about that class is that it didn't really have any children with major behaviour issues.  So then I attribute my success to that - not having to 'deal' with a naughty kid.  Having a dream class - one that every teacher dreams of.

I'm reading an amazing book about this at the moment.  It has outlined my problem as my own fear.  A fear of being fearful, a fear of inadequacy.  The author tells me I will always feel this fear, and that I should always feel it, because if I don't, I will probably no longer be trying to relate to my students.  And if I am able to embrace my fear, I will have integrity and know my own identity.  It's a beautiful book to read.  Even though it's called The Courage to Teach*, I think it's equally applicable for any profession.  Don't tell me you never feel afraid.  Or perhaps you are not aware of your fear.  

This book, and this Masters degree, and these years where I've only visited teaching for a few months at a time, have helped me know that I do want to be a teacher.  But also that it's a hard career and I'm glad for the break, for the time to study and think.  But I will be back in the classroom one day.

*By Parker J. Palmer

Raspberry lemon bars

We were asked to bring dessert for dinner at a friends in the weekend and I remembered this favourite I'd made several times last year.  I discovered this recipe around the time that I realised 'bars' are what we call a 'slice' at home.   I once substituted lime for the lemon.  It was too tart - I probably needed to put less in but I'd recommend sticking to lemon.  Be careful to bake it for long enough too, you want it to feel pretty firm in the middle.  I know you probably know this, but take the time to read the recipe before you want to bake it, I was caught out several times with timing issues! It. Is. Really. Delicious.

Preheat oven to 350F.  Line an 8" circular pie pan with parchment paper.  Set aside.

For the crust:

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 cup flour

1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

1/4 tsp baking powder

1/8 tsp salt

1/2 tsp grated lemon zest

Preparing the crust:
Prepare the crust:  Combine all the crust ingredients in a medium bowl and stir with a wooden spoon until a soft dough forms.  Press evenly into the prepared pan.  Refrigerate for 10 minutes.  Bake the crust for 15 minutes, then let cool for 15 minutes.

For the lemon topping:

3 eggs

1 cup sugar

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1/2 zest of 1 lemon

1/2 tsp baking powder

2 tsp flour

around 1/2 cup raspberries, fresh or frozen

Lemon topping:  Seive dry ingredients.  Combine all the topping ingredients, except the raspberries, in a medium bowl and whisk until well blended.  Spread the raspberries evenly over the baked crust.  Slowly pour the lemon topping mixture over the raspberries.  Bake for 22-24 minutes.  Lower the oven temperature to 325F and continue baking for 20-25 minutes longer or until topping is set.  Transfer the baking pan to a cooling rack and let cool completely.  Refrigerate for at least 2 hours before cutting.  Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

Strawberry Shortcake and its complimentary cocktail

We were invited to a friend's for strawberry shortcake on Sunday night.  We wanted to take a drink but you can't buy alcohol on Sundays in Indiana so I had me a little think about what we had at home, grabbed that, and concocted a delicious cocktail at his house.  

The items I found were: 12oz of some fancy gingerbeer*, 2 10 oz bottles of tonic water*, a lemon, 12 raspberries, a bottle of gin and a bottle of vodka.  There were four of us, and I had enough to make a pretty nice sized cocktail each.  I gave a squeeze of lemon and a half shot of each of the alcohols to each glass.  In that, I muddled (smashed) the raspberries and then distributed out the sodas to each glass.  They were arguably the best drink I'd had in a long time.  The raspberries made them look a little bit girlie but the three boys I was drinking with savoured them over the next hour.  A lovely compliment to strawberry shortcake.  The strawberry shortcake itself was a variation from mine which I will have to bake some day.  It had a sweet scone as the cake.  Also, it was made by a boy (kudos to him), and was absolutely delicious.  That combined with several round of Pit and some decent piano playing and conversation called for a very successful Sunday evening.  Well, I think it was successful, but I was little chatty Kathy...

* all of these drinks are from single serve bottles, if you don't measure in ounces

Community garden

I am volunteering at the church's community garden.  All the produce go to those who can't afford to buy groceries.  The garden has a fabulous amount of sun, a fence, and is set in several raised beds, so everything seems to grow much better than in my garden.  And to be of a regular size.  I was excited about my yummy handful of beans but they got a big, heavy bag full.  Their various squash is doing really well, their sage are small bushes.  Their tomatoes are falling over like mine.  It's the tomato plant falling over time of year.  I'm excited about this commitment.  Another excuse to be outdoors is good for my Vitamin D levels.

Stuffing peppers

The produce from our garden is at its best right now.  In the last few days we harvested a pound of lovely juicy green beans, the usual 10 or so tomatoes, and 10 bell boy peppers which are suddenly plentiful and growing larger than they have been.  Bell boy peppers are like miniature capsicum peppers.  I'm not particularly fond of eating them raw, and they seem to disappear into most things I cook them in.  Because we had so many this week, I realised I could make stuffed peppers, and I finally found a dish they could really shine in.  They're so cute, too.  I lopped off their spout, scooped out their seeds and they were a perfect little cup to stuff.  I cooked up some rice risotto, adding feta cheese and fresh herbs as an after thought, stuffed eight little peppers, placing a slice of tomato on top of each, and baked them until I could see the peppers were starting to brown in splotches.  They hold together better than half a capsicum and make a filling meal.  It's lovely having home grown produce to eat and enjoy every day.  It's a great time of the year.

The post-fall shakes

I fell off my bike earlier today and I still feel a little bit shaky.  It definitely took me by surprise.  In lieu of the tornado strong storms we've been expecting, it was drizzling lightly.  As it was the first rain in a while, the roads were extra slick.  I had stopped at a zebra crossing* to assess the situation.  I didn't think a truck saw me so I hesitated but then decided to bike cross anyway.  Feeling a bit sheepish, I never feel as though I have right of way, I was kind of turning in front of the truck when my bike slid out from under me.  I took a leaf out of Jbird's book and successfully rolled to catch my fall.  I wasn't really hurt - my thumb feels a bit tender, and my backside got really wet - but my pride was wounded.  It happened right in front of a crowd of people at the festival we were going to. I'm glad I wasn't wearing a skirt, that would've been worse.

*pedestrian crossing