Architect's Toolbox: Light.

In the introduction to Home By Design, Sarah Susanka discusses the "reflecting surfaces" principle whereby architects employ the technique of placing a window adjacent to a perpendicular wall, in order to light up an entire space. What if we look at "perpendiculars" within our classroom content? Would bringing in more "intersections" help illuminate concepts for our youth? A music teacher might teach her students to sing in "rounds" where parts intersect, yet fully layer and enhance a piece. A more advanced musician would be taught fugues, where voices intersect and weave through one another, sometimes at a full perpendiculars. These perpendiculars "flood" the music with richness, the way an architectural space would be "flooded" with light, each transforming the experience into a "work of art."

Architect's Toolbox: Space.

"It's not so much the height that makes it interesting as the variation in height and the scale of each space in relation to other spaces and to its inhabitants," (Susanka, A New Design Language.) As ceiling height variety and differentiation of spaces add spatial interest to the "art of dwelling," the range of student "ceiling heights" in their varied perspectives, cultures and learning styles make for inspirational and engaging classrooms within the "art of teaching." If we celebrate variety in "heights," we may begin to better understand the connections between us - between all our individual "spaces."

Looking into a larger space.

Residential architect, Sarah Susanka, had very poignant ideas about how we physiologically feel in different spaces. One that jumped out at me as an endpoint for an "imaginative bridge" came from the following quote: "Cozy corners-- often unplanned, leftover spaces-- are our favorite spots. It's enjoyable to be able to look into a larger space, but many people prefer the view form the periphery- from a comfortable alcove, for example."

Spaces that feel the best to people are small "nooks" where we can "find our footing," and feel settled or stable. This becomes a starting point that has some familiarity, intimacy or "coziness" to it, before we look in at the larger space, or the bigger, more challenging "expression."

My analogical connection to the classroom lies in "education for understanding." When we talk about "education for understanding," we talk about a deep understanding of a concept. To begin to study a concept, one cannot take on the large picture right out of the gates. It's too overwhelming. So, a better approach might be to take on a "peripheral" perspective, to grab an interesting slice of that complex idea, and go deep- viewing it from a point of view that holds some separation, shelter, FEELS comfortable, becomes "shaped" and "tailored" with interest and relevance to a student, yet offers the view into the "main room." For example, the study of "what is beautiful?" is a big, big idea, a "massive activity place," so Howard Gardner asks us to look at it from a peripheral place, a comfortable and manageable "interior view" via "The Marriage of Figaro" which becomes our "cardboard box" through which to discuss "the connecting view" to Beauty (H. Gardner, The Disciplined Mind.) The "art of dwelling" and the "art of teaching" have many different alcoves that inform the quality of the levels of feeling and understanding of the big principles.

Perussion.

I love the title of the Paul Hirsch article - "Percussive Editing." In the interview, Hirsch explains his background as a high school percussionist, and goes on to relate percussion to his job as a film editor. "The way percussion is related to editing is that it's all about time, dealing with different portions of time, dividing time into very small bits, or different bits, that relate to each other in different ways," (p. 194). Can't we build an "imaginative bridge" here, reflecting on the musical and cinematic rhythms of our classroom instruction and tasks? Take an hour, the day, perhaps the week, the month, the semester or the school year? How do these bits of time relate? How does today's instruction tie into tomorrow's lesson? Is the form, or structure of a lesson plan, well-established? Is there a steady meter or pace to the delivery, the tasks and the experience? Our time spent in the classroom should have a percussive curve to it much like that of music and film. A curve with a steady pace at times, then drama or accents, tempo changes, crescendos, then decrescendos, balance, dynamic, and resolve. It's not unlike the "meter" of a compelling film.

Film. Music. Classroom.

So What?

In order to get her audience to really feel something, film-maker Katalina Groh practices getting interactive with her viewers. Groh says that her stories get better and better, as soon she’s able to answer the question of “what are we trying to do here?” Thinking about what your audience cares about is a profound idea for educators. Actually, I found most of the ideas discussed throughout the “film-maker as storyteller” web site to be very consistent notions to those practiced in the classroom. In order for a task or a lesson to carry meaning, it has to be relevant. In order to be relevant, we have to know our students. (We need to assess a student’s background knowledge, likes, dislikes, points of view, family and prior experience.) By making it real and making it relevant, we’ll have the “emotional punchline” to reply to the - “so what?” No one can say, “so what” better than our children and youth. As the reading suggested, if we can hook them in with relevance, possibilities, and punchlines, we’ll make meaningful discoveries together. All our voices will sound together in the classroom.

The Mighty Golden Gate.

Today I went down to the Marin Headlands to photograph the mighty Golden Gate Bridge. I spent an hour or so, through my camera viewfinder, meditating upon the bridge's burnt orange color, its' suspension, its' grace, the bay on the East side, the Pacific Ocean to the West. What a truly powerful American icon. It also has a deep, personal meaning to me. After getting my bachelor's degree, I headed West from New York, with "somewhat" of a purpose and a heck of a lot of youthfulness. I was determined to make my life in the Bay Area; a place of extraordinary beauty in its' natural surroundings. After more than two decades, I've managed to stay out here. It's been an economic struggle, as the cost of living is extraordinarily high, and it's been a great weight to "bridge" all my family ties back East. The Golden Gate Bridge is a symbol of perseverance for my husband and me; as individuals and as a team. Here, I went from "me" to "we."

The Golden Gate Bridge, built in 1937, is one of the most important landmarks to San Francisco, to California, and to the United States. (I remember after 9/11, the bridge was flooded with Coast Guard patrol. It was under 24-hour, constant surveillance by helicopter, soldier, camera. It was thought to be the next target.) Structurally, as a suspension bridge, it's almost two miles long. To walk it, is to experience a powerfully fierce, but cleansing wind, like no other. Walk it, ride it- it's a pedestrian and bike-friendly experience, unlike many of the iconic bridges around the nation. So it's a shared, public space, let's call it a commons.

My "imaginative bridge" for this post marries this landmark bridge to our classrooms. My "bridge" connects the Golden Gate Bridge to our classrooms because both serve as a commons. A shared space, "collectively owned." Each day, we teach in classrooms that offer our children sacred places, and shared spaces with moving purpose. As educators, we share and "own" these spaces with our students, as we work towards solutions.  It's quite like our iconic Golden Gate!

Inclusion.

Today is MLK day. This is a very fine day to kick off my blog.

In honor of Dr. King, I've entitled this post- Inclusion. I'm going to draw an "imaginative double bridge" connecting Dr. King to our group 2 wall photo (week 2, graphic design,) and then to the classroom environment, as an educator.

This sounds like quite a leap, but here goes...

Today we commemorate Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., one of the greatest civil rights leaders of all time. He stood to change "American values to include a color blind society." He, like no other, invited us to end racial discrimination and racial segregation through non-violence. He did it all in his 39 years (younger than I am!)

Here are some analogical connections for my bridge.

Immediately when I viewed the "Think Red" poster, I went towards the one on the right. I liked how the text "wrapped" around the handlebars of the tricycle. The flow of the text "included" and "respected" the image. It doesn't "discriminate" because it did the same for the two logos- Ohio Trike and 50th.

The Trike invites you to the scene better than that of the left poster because it's handlebars bring the trike to one of the "Rule of Thirds" intersecting points for a bigger effect (Rowse, Darren). All the elements are in a big "group hug!"

So in our poster, we experience invitation, non-discrimination, inclusion and respect; Dr. King's sentiments.

Onto our classrooms...there is the inclusive classroom, one that supports all types of learners without discrimination. There is Dewey's inclusion which leads us to a democratic classroom. We seek student-led experiences. And we invite a shared authority in class, a high respect and recognition for each student.

Dr. King - "Think Red Trike" - Inclusion in our classrooms.