Adventurous
Long walk in the hills
Perfect view from the top
Sounds of trees swaying and water rushing
Friday, October 31, 2008
Acrostic Alps
Adventurous
Long walk in the hills
Perfect view from the top
Sounds of trees swaying and water rushing
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Life As A One-School Family
We all go—all five of us—to the same school every day. At home we have been at as many as 4 different schools—a preschool, two elementary schools (one for teaching and one for learning) and a middle school. We’ll have that again when we go back, only with two middle schools and two elementary schools.
But right now, we all walk three blocks to ONE school. This takes about ten minutes, or 15 when the boys (we’ve picked up a friend along the way) walk slow. Which is most days. Getting out of the house is its own issue with Mommy and Daddy invariably FRUSTRATED!! because we need to be there before our students and one or another of the kids dawdling along. Once we arrive, drop-off consists of a 10-yard detour to one child’s locker, a hug and a kiss in the stairwell for another, and with the third there IS no drop-off, as we share a classroom. We all see each other throughout the day at recess, lunch, in the teachers’ room, passing in the hallway…we’ve never been so together for so long. It’s like camp, but we get to go home together every day for whatever dinner we can summon the energy to cook.
Even more interesting is the effect on our dinner conversation. There’s no opportunity for the usual “What did you do today at school?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” interchange—because we’ve seen all the teachers at least once and we know all their friends and we’ve even been in class with them. So we TALK. There has never been so much conversation about what they’ve been doing. We talk about funny things that happened in class, injuries on the playground (see my previous posting on playgrounds for thoughts about that), what we learned…it’s great to know that we can as a family have conversation about what we like and what interests us and what’s frustrating. It’s possible (likely, even) that we won’t ever have an extended time like this again. What a blessing that we get to take advantage of this experience together for this year!
But right now, we all walk three blocks to ONE school. This takes about ten minutes, or 15 when the boys (we’ve picked up a friend along the way) walk slow. Which is most days. Getting out of the house is its own issue with Mommy and Daddy invariably FRUSTRATED!! because we need to be there before our students and one or another of the kids dawdling along. Once we arrive, drop-off consists of a 10-yard detour to one child’s locker, a hug and a kiss in the stairwell for another, and with the third there IS no drop-off, as we share a classroom. We all see each other throughout the day at recess, lunch, in the teachers’ room, passing in the hallway…we’ve never been so together for so long. It’s like camp, but we get to go home together every day for whatever dinner we can summon the energy to cook.
Even more interesting is the effect on our dinner conversation. There’s no opportunity for the usual “What did you do today at school?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” interchange—because we’ve seen all the teachers at least once and we know all their friends and we’ve even been in class with them. So we TALK. There has never been so much conversation about what they’ve been doing. We talk about funny things that happened in class, injuries on the playground (see my previous posting on playgrounds for thoughts about that), what we learned…it’s great to know that we can as a family have conversation about what we like and what interests us and what’s frustrating. It’s possible (likely, even) that we won’t ever have an extended time like this again. What a blessing that we get to take advantage of this experience together for this year!
Friday, October 3, 2008
Klassenfahrt II
Be sure to read "Class Trip" first, so you know what in the heck I'm talking about here.
Essentially, on this trip we were up against the flip side of the fabled German bureaucracy—while some things are efficient, no one will do anything that isn’t part of the job description. So some pretty amazing things were left to chance because nobody bothered to think through whether it was actually a good idea. What follows is hard for anyone who has done this kind of thing in the US to imagine, but it’s all true:
On Wednesday, we had scheduled a bike tour …as we (3 adults, 30 nine- and ten-year olds) arrived at the equipment area I looked over at the wind whipping down the river and commented bleakly on the prospects for Thursday’s canoe journey. (This may seem like a non-sequitur, but it will come up again!) Anyway, we found waiting for us a row of 19 adult sized bikes. And nobody to direct us. Hello? Eventually a guy from the adjacent water sports group wandered over and said “there are some more bikes over there,” pointing to a row of 10 somewhat smaller bikes on the other side of a field. We headed over there to see what we could do, but things went rapidly downhill. Not enough bikes, wrong sizes, helmet didn’t fit, kids riding and running all over the place. By now there were two guys helping out but they didn’t seem to have a plan either and I got more and more aggravated. After an HOUR and a couple good rounds of “You are happy! Now you’re happy! You are happy! Hooray!” we had almost everyone on a bike and in a helmet. Which basically meant that we couldn’t all ride. At which point we said, “SCREW THIS!” And as soon as we had cast aside the pitiful and pathetic plan provided by the place we were staying, we discovered how ridiculous it really was.
It turned out that the guys helping us actually only worked for the sports training site next door. They had been alerted FIVE MINUTES before our arrival that we were coming and were only helping out the camp to be nice. As they fitted our kids with bikes they kept getting calls from the woman in charge at our place wondering where we were. How is it that she had never wondered how our group was going to fit on the bikes that she owned? Not her problem, apparently. Our new bike friends hadn’t wanted to steal customers, but they were pretty pissed at being left holding the bag on a bike trip that they hadn't planned. So once we had ditched the bike trip they immediately offered an afternoon of archery and rock climbing! Cool! The kids cheered loudly. So half the kids went off to shoot bows and arrows while we took a smaller group biking. Needless to say we didn’t have a clue where we were going and discovered some terrain that was, well, OK for a hike but not so much for bikes—a hill that seemed to go straight up and a windy, slippery, steep trail down the other side. But we only made two kids cry. And then they got to go climbing!
I tell you, I was really happy to sit back with a beer after the campfire that night. Ah yes, by now you’ve forgotten the fact that the kids were in cabins on their own! Which meant that we were free (encouraged, even—nay, commanded, I kid you not) to supply ourselves with beer and wine for our evening use after the kids went to bed. Nothing too surprising at camp, maybe, but on a school trip???
Anyway, the next day we were scheduled to go canoeing. After the biking fiasco I was a little worried (a little?) about this plan. One of our rescuers from the day before came by to clue us in—our uninterested and incompetent host had one giant war canoe for about half the kids, the rest in small boats twos and threes--with no instruction but with a motorboat to accompany us and pull the kids out when they flipped. Which, given the winds I’d seen the day before, they certainly would. Only the motorboat guy had called to say he wasn’t coming. By now I was having visions of the fabled Waramaug trip spread across half of Lake Champlain.
Thankfully our helpful friends from next door stepped up again and produced a second war canoe to take the other half of the kids—and thankfully I know a little about paddling and was
able to guide it. So we piled 15 kids in one and 15 in the other (a bit squeezy, but OK) and off we went. Nobody knew the first thing about paddling and for much of the way it was complete chaos. Eventually I remembered to be along for the ride and just sat back ruddering while the kids fought with each other about who was paddling harder. Eventually they more or less got it together and we made a good learning experience out of it.
That night after dinner the kids threw a party in the “house” they had built in the woods, complete with a paved floor and benches. They pooled their money and bought refreshments at the snack bar. No planned activities could ever produce this kind of teamwork and initiative from 30 kids. When we did our final positive sharings on Friday morning, sang “Aroostasha” one more time, and did a rousing “Grade 5” cheer, it was—at it was meant to be—a TEAM. What fun!
Essentially, on this trip we were up against the flip side of the fabled German bureaucracy—while some things are efficient, no one will do anything that isn’t part of the job description. So some pretty amazing things were left to chance because nobody bothered to think through whether it was actually a good idea. What follows is hard for anyone who has done this kind of thing in the US to imagine, but it’s all true:
On Wednesday, we had scheduled a bike tour …as we (3 adults, 30 nine- and ten-year olds) arrived at the equipment area I looked over at the wind whipping down the river and commented bleakly on the prospects for Thursday’s canoe journey. (This may seem like a non-sequitur, but it will come up again!) Anyway, we found waiting for us a row of 19 adult sized bikes. And nobody to direct us. Hello? Eventually a guy from the adjacent water sports group wandered over and said “there are some more bikes over there,” pointing to a row of 10 somewhat smaller bikes on the other side of a field. We headed over there to see what we could do, but things went rapidly downhill. Not enough bikes, wrong sizes, helmet didn’t fit, kids riding and running all over the place. By now there were two guys helping out but they didn’t seem to have a plan either and I got more and more aggravated. After an HOUR and a couple good rounds of “You are happy! Now you’re happy! You are happy! Hooray!” we had almost everyone on a bike and in a helmet. Which basically meant that we couldn’t all ride. At which point we said, “SCREW THIS!” And as soon as we had cast aside the pitiful and pathetic plan provided by the place we were staying, we discovered how ridiculous it really was.
It turned out that the guys helping us actually only worked for the sports training site next door. They had been alerted FIVE MINUTES before our arrival that we were coming and were only helping out the camp to be nice. As they fitted our kids with bikes they kept getting calls from the woman in charge at our place wondering where we were. How is it that she had never wondered how our group was going to fit on the bikes that she owned? Not her problem, apparently. Our new bike friends hadn’t wanted to steal customers, but they were pretty pissed at being left holding the bag on a bike trip that they hadn't planned. So once we had ditched the bike trip they immediately offered an afternoon of archery and rock climbing! Cool! The kids cheered loudly. So half the kids went off to shoot bows and arrows while we took a smaller group biking. Needless to say we didn’t have a clue where we were going and discovered some terrain that was, well, OK for a hike but not so much for bikes—a hill that seemed to go straight up and a windy, slippery, steep trail down the other side. But we only made two kids cry. And then they got to go climbing!
I tell you, I was really happy to sit back with a beer after the campfire that night. Ah yes, by now you’ve forgotten the fact that the kids were in cabins on their own! Which meant that we were free (encouraged, even—nay, commanded, I kid you not) to supply ourselves with beer and wine for our evening use after the kids went to bed. Nothing too surprising at camp, maybe, but on a school trip???
Anyway, the next day we were scheduled to go canoeing. After the biking fiasco I was a little worried (a little?) about this plan. One of our rescuers from the day before came by to clue us in—our uninterested and incompetent host had one giant war canoe for about half the kids, the rest in small boats twos and threes--with no instruction but with a motorboat to accompany us and pull the kids out when they flipped. Which, given the winds I’d seen the day before, they certainly would. Only the motorboat guy had called to say he wasn’t coming. By now I was having visions of the fabled Waramaug trip spread across half of Lake Champlain.
Thankfully our helpful friends from next door stepped up again and produced a second war canoe to take the other half of the kids—and thankfully I know a little about paddling and was
able to guide it. So we piled 15 kids in one and 15 in the other (a bit squeezy, but OK) and off we went. Nobody knew the first thing about paddling and for much of the way it was complete chaos. Eventually I remembered to be along for the ride and just sat back ruddering while the kids fought with each other about who was paddling harder. Eventually they more or less got it together and we made a good learning experience out of it.That night after dinner the kids threw a party in the “house” they had built in the woods, complete with a paved floor and benches. They pooled their money and bought refreshments at the snack bar. No planned activities could ever produce this kind of teamwork and initiative from 30 kids. When we did our final positive sharings on Friday morning, sang “Aroostasha” one more time, and did a rousing “Grade 5” cheer, it was—at it was meant to be—a TEAM. What fun!
The Class Trip
We’ve been back for a week and I’ve had time to reflect on the Klassenfahrt (what? A class fart? Are you paying attention now?), which is German for Class Trip. Over the years I’ve been involved in a lot of these adventures in US middle schools, and while this one was similar in its basic structure, in many ways it was an entirely different experience. Remember that these are 5th graders and that we took them for 4 days and 5 nights, which in itself is somewhat remarkable. But I think I need to tell more of the story…
The week began like many other class trip Mondays—whether it be Nature’s Classroom, KEEC, Sargent Camp, whatever—the kids gather at school with their various bags, parents mill about looking alternately proud of their grown-up kid, worried they’ve forgotten to pack Teddy, thrilled they have a week with one fewer kid to think about, and panicked that something might happen without them there to fix it. But as always, we managed to collect the various forms we still needed, get medications gathered, make a pile of the pocket knives (?see? I told you it was different) and, when the bus FINALLY arrived (OK, not so different from home) we herded everyone on.
The bus wound its way through the city streets for a remarkably long time—Berlin is amazing in how far it goes at a fairly high density—until we finally headed out into the Brandenburg countryside. Brandenburg, the German state to the west of Berlin, was part of the DDR (East Germany) and while Berlin is quite modern and cosmopolitan it remains quite conservative and has a reputation for harboring a significant neo-Nazi population. We didn’t experience any of this, but I suppose it’s sort of like driving an hour out of Boston and being in, say, Idaho. (PS I have since been reminded that while Brandenburg IS in fact to the west of Berlin, it is also to the East, North, and South. So I have revealed myself as painfully ignorant regarding German geography. Ouch!)
Anyway we arrived easily enough climbed off the bus to the first main difference. Those of you who have done some work in environmental education know that usually the staff greets the arriving campers immediately to begin establishing the expectations and showing kids where things were. In contrast, we milled about while one of the teachers (the ONE of us who speaks German) went to collect the room keys. Someone came by and dropped off a big wagon to carry our gear. We went off (on our own, mind you) to find our cabins. We gave the kids their cabin groups amid much wailing and gnashing of teeth, passed out the sheets and pillowcases (another big difference—no sleeping bags!) and retreated to the adult cabin.
This bears repeating. We retreated to the adult cabin. That is to say, there were no adults in the kids’ cabins. You heard right. Each group of 5 kids had their own “bungalow” with two rooms and a bathroom. We three teachers had our own bungalow, separate from any kids at all. Whoa. You’ll see why that is REALLY different later on.
OK, back to our adventures. Lunch was pretty uneventful; essentially it was like a little cafeteria, but it was gradually becoming clear that we the teachers were really on our own. This theme really carried through the week—while some of the activities planned were “guided” (in a manner of speaking) we pretty much had to run things ourselves, as there wasn’t in fact any staff there. A few examples:
I was really worried about the disco night but that turned out to be a blast—obviously the woman in charge had spent the whole week playing with her song list instead of taking care of activities. And in the end, the kids had a great time, learned a bunch of crazy new songs from yours truly, and came together as a team. Which is what the whole thing was for, anyway. What curriculum did we cover? None. What standards were we addressing? Only the ones that have to do with behavior towards peers and learning to get along. Are those important?
The week began like many other class trip Mondays—whether it be Nature’s Classroom, KEEC, Sargent Camp, whatever—the kids gather at school with their various bags, parents mill about looking alternately proud of their grown-up kid, worried they’ve forgotten to pack Teddy, thrilled they have a week with one fewer kid to think about, and panicked that something might happen without them there to fix it. But as always, we managed to collect the various forms we still needed, get medications gathered, make a pile of the pocket knives (?see? I told you it was different) and, when the bus FINALLY arrived (OK, not so different from home) we herded everyone on.The bus wound its way through the city streets for a remarkably long time—Berlin is amazing in how far it goes at a fairly high density—until we finally headed out into the Brandenburg countryside. Brandenburg, the German state to the west of Berlin, was part of the DDR (East Germany) and while Berlin is quite modern and cosmopolitan it remains quite conservative and has a reputation for harboring a significant neo-Nazi population. We didn’t experience any of this, but I suppose it’s sort of like driving an hour out of Boston and being in, say, Idaho. (PS I have since been reminded that while Brandenburg IS in fact to the west of Berlin, it is also to the East, North, and South. So I have revealed myself as painfully ignorant regarding German geography. Ouch!)
Anyway we arrived easily enough climbed off the bus to the first main difference. Those of you who have done some work in environmental education know that usually the staff greets the arriving campers immediately to begin establishing the expectations and showing kids where things were. In contrast, we milled about while one of the teachers (the ONE of us who speaks German) went to collect the room keys. Someone came by and dropped off a big wagon to carry our gear. We went off (on our own, mind you) to find our cabins. We gave the kids their cabin groups amid much wailing and gnashing of teeth, passed out the sheets and pillowcases (another big difference—no sleeping bags!) and retreated to the adult cabin.
This bears repeating. We retreated to the adult cabin. That is to say, there were no adults in the kids’ cabins. You heard right. Each group of 5 kids had their own “bungalow” with two rooms and a bathroom. We three teachers had our own bungalow, separate from any kids at all. Whoa. You’ll see why that is REALLY different later on.
OK, back to our adventures. Lunch was pretty uneventful; essentially it was like a little cafeteria, but it was gradually becoming clear that we the teachers were really on our own. This theme really carried through the week—while some of the activities planned were “guided” (in a manner of speaking) we pretty much had to run things ourselves, as there wasn’t in fact any staff there. A few examples:
- An art activity in which kids made small animals from toilet paper tubes or painted pre-cast plaster molds. Um. This taught them what?
- A “grill night” which meant that we had to cook dinner. OK, granted that they provided the meats, but it was pretty much like Thursday night BBQ at camp with me slaving over a hot grill.
- A campfire (which, by the way, we paid for) for which we had to collect our own wood, build the fire, and provide the entertainment. Good thing I’ve done a few of these over the years…Keewaydin folks would have recognized most of it.
- A “fox hunt” in which one group went out and left a trail of little paper foxes so the other group could track them, then hid in the woods. This filled (if you can believe it) a whole hour! And (imagine my voice dripping with sarcasm) it took SO much planning!
I was really worried about the disco night but that turned out to be a blast—obviously the woman in charge had spent the whole week playing with her song list instead of taking care of activities. And in the end, the kids had a great time, learned a bunch of crazy new songs from yours truly, and came together as a team. Which is what the whole thing was for, anyway. What curriculum did we cover? None. What standards were we addressing? Only the ones that have to do with behavior towards peers and learning to get along. Are those important?
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