Have you ever gotten so fed up with a project that you just couldn't deal with it? I remember my grandmother told me that she would take up a crafting project almost obsessively, make many things, and then get so sick of it that she just couldn't even look at the materials. I've definitely been there. And yet, her cross-stitch pictures and woven rugs are some of the many treasures she left behind, adding a unique handmade touch to my grandparents' historic house.
In bringing the maker movement to English classes, I've definitely seen frustration among students. In a private lesson, after a very successful zip-line, I encouraged the student to try building a different design that he could take home (because binder clips are expensive, and I'm stingy with mine, plus I thought it would be a good way to build on what he had learned). Well, several failed attempts at a new model frustrated him to the point that he didn't want to think about zip lines anymore. I realize I could have helped him plan out his model on some engineering principles, but, as I'm often learning those kinds of things together with my students, usually through tinkering, it didn't happen this time. However, I try to make sure students have the English they need to talk about the experience and express themselves, and this student did walk away with the words frustrated and frustrating, building on the other -ed / -ing adjectives he had already learned. These words were learned from personal experience, which was not my plan. Nonetheless, they are important words to know, and they were committed to memory that day.
I've also seen slime fails, towers that didn't quite come together, and ambitious catapult designs that were hard to work with in actual form. And I've seen TED-Ed talks altered, scrapped, saved for later, or completely re-thought and re-worked. Just the other day, a young student was frustrated that she couldn't connect a circuit; wrapping wires around an LED requires some fine motor skills and deftness of hand, and she was eager to light up her jack-o-lantern and dash off to the Halloween party. She had an opportunity to take a break, enjoy the party, and come back to it, though. When she came back, I insisted that she try it again (I had cleared out the burned-out batteries that were causing her stress before), and I gave her a hand. In the end, she was thrilled, lighting up a jack-o-lantern with an LED and a simple circuit.
Sometimes I'm able to help students solve a making problem, but I get stuck while trying to solve my own. Last night, I was trying to express some feelings while playing with a few simple circuits that just didn't work out. One, my husband helped me realize I had connected sloppily, so I went back and fixed it, but then I accidentally crossed the wires and burned out the only yellow LED that I had, which prevented me from working through my original design. The other is made of aluminum tape, folded because the adhesive doesn't conduct electricity. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, and the other engineers in my life and I haven't yet been able to figure out why. For now, I'm taking a break, but I really want to make a complex paper circuit, and explore how drawing and electric currents can work together, so I'll give it another try soon.
I'm participating, albeit partially, in another round of the Learning Creative Learning course offered by Lifelong Kindergarten group and MIT Media Lab. I've blogged a few insights from last year's course, a few different times in the past. This week, the theme has been passion. Mitchel Resnick took a quote from Benjamin Franklin: "An investment in knowledge pays the best interest," and turned it around, saying, "An investment in interest pays the best knowledge." It's only by allowing young people to pursue their interests, working on something they are passionate about, that they'll persist through the challenges and frustrations that inevitably come with making.
In an online discussion this morning, one educator talked about celebrating "spectacular failures," adding humor to what might otherwise be a frustrating situation. I talked about adding storytelling to combat boredom, adding characters and life to what might otherwise be a dull lesson. Others talked about lowering the stakes, noting that passion can actually get in the way if the stakes are too high and a student feels like so much of their identity is tied to the project. This might involve having students make only a prototype and not the final project, if time constraints are an issue. With the prototype, they can show the best version they have, and then continue the actual project on their own. Another way to lower the stakes might be giving a constraint in materials, such as only working with cardboard. Sometimes a constraint, like drawing while only looking at the contour line of an object and not the paper, actually levels the playing field, making everyone's drawing look "bad..." or maybe, rather, interesting. These strategies help students to focus on the process and not the actual product, and even employ a bit of mindfulness, as students work their way through a challenge and learn essential skills.
And then, there is my favorite way to deal with frustration: collaboration. Peers working together can help each other get their ideas off the ground. In my classes, pairs or small groups work together on a quick STEM challenge, and then use the target language we're learning to reflect on the experience. Taking on a challenge alone is daunting, but working together helps students deal with their fears of making and boosts confidence. It also gives them meaningful ways to use English language, the stronger helping the weaker, everyone contributing.
Right now, I'm frustrated with many things, big and small, things I can't change. But I'm grateful for my peers and for what we can learn from each other. There is lots of making to do, lots of unfinished work, lots of frustration that can either burn us out or push us onward. Now more than ever, we need to support each other, double-check our connections, and make sure no one burns out like my yellow LED. Who are you going to connect with this week? What frustrations are you pushing through, and what source of energy are you sharing with others? One LED or teacher can be a light in the darkness, but many, through a well-connected circuit or network, can shine even brighter.
Comments