Thoughts on Inquiry Based Learning

I wrote about what I love about Inquiry-Based Learning (IBL) and how I use it in the college classroom on my #EduBlog, Here, I want to look at it from a different perspective. From the perspective, in fact of a 14 year old grade 9 student who has been introduced to IBL this semester in Geography class.

And hates it. HATES. Did I mention he hates it?

That student is my son. And to be fair, hate is a strong word. Dislikes. Finds it inefficient. Never wants to do Geography again.

For the uninitiated, IBL (or Problem Based Learning, a close relative) is a new way of teaching material in which the student is given more choice, more say, and ultimately more responsibility in their own learning.

For Erik's first project, he was given a research question to research and answer and present to the class in the method of his choice. He got a B. He could have given more detail. He was frustrated.His problem: He felt he had answered the questions, but he needed to go one step further. "If the teacher asks for X but actually really wants Y + Z as well, why wouldn't she just say so..." said my mathematically-brained son. "Otherwise I'm like, WTF!" (Sense of humour intact).

It was time to get to the heart of the matter. He's not super communicative, Erik, especially when Mom starts bugging him about schoolwork, so it took a few weeks to elicit enough responses to really understand. Here's what I have:

• Inquiry based learning is messy and there is no clear answer. His mathematical mind really struggles with this. It's happened for years in English class where he never understood how to give enough detail until I turned it into a math formula: Give as much detail as you think answers the question, then add 50% more (D + 50%). He could do that (or at least he understood that). So we tried that again: Answer the question, and add 20% more information (Q + 20%). So far, so good.
• Inquiry Based Learning takes time. Erik has always been an efficiency expert. The shortest route. The fastest result. The quickest response. He does things once. So having to suddenly take the time to a) figure out what he wants to find out; b) add 20%; c) put it together creatively (not his strength); and d) ensure it is thorough....well this is not fun for him. 
• We talked (car rides great for talking to recalcitrant teens...they can't escape) about WHY IBL is important. Would you, I asked, rather be told what to think or how to think? Duh. He is NOT a follower, that boy. Well, I explained, seizing my advantage, IBL is about teaching you how to think. I gave (top of my head, I swear) an example about trucks and fuel and how someone good at IBL would solve the fuel-environment issue (something he IS interested in)...and you know what, I think we were getting somewhere.
• Erik is very introverted and has mild Aspergers. He is highly functional, but man, does that kid hate change. Always has. And loud noises. So a noisy class of IBLearners doing something brand new that many are excited about....it's an understatement to say it is not Erik's cup of tea. His sisters, both introverts themselves, love IBL, and are keen to help Erik (to his infinite delight <sarcasm>. Nothing more fun than a younger sister who wants to tell you what to do).
• Erik's memory is phenomenal. One of our big issues with him has always been that he gets good marks without trying too hard (grade inflation is another issue for another day...gets me too riled up), and this has largely been due to his memory. Because until this year, noone ever challenged him in a way where he needed to work hard. As a result, his grades in Geography are harder to maintain. This causes him stress. And why wouldn't it. As he said, it doesn't seem fair that they changed the system (translation: they changed a system that was working favourably for him to one that he struggles with, that is harder for him to achieve in, AND that is new - see previous point about hating change). Like I said...STRESS.

So what can we do? First, if you are a teacher who loves IBL/PBL (and I am too, I get it!) I implore you to please be gentle, especially if introducing it in a higher grade. Not all kids love it, many struggle with it and need some serious scaffolding. They need to be exposed to it slowly, and see small successes, not just a major project that is seemingly open ended (to them, it really is!). 

As a learner, embrace it. It's a great way to become a life long learner. It's a great way to have some say in your own curriculum and do projects that interest you (even Erik saw the logic in that). It needs to be broken down into manageable chunks, and its okay to get help along the way. Ask for it (Erik not a fan of asking for help - again, not something he is used to needing to do...so no experience in it).

As a parent, take heart. It's surmountable. Erik's most recent project was on coffee (his choice) and though his research skills still need work (he flounders without specific guidance), he did bring home the work he had done in class  and we used it to put together a creative project. Neither of us knew what we were doing when it came to using Camtasia to make this video (ignore the echoing intro), so I used it as an excuse to model the Inquiry-Based Learning process. 

And whaddya know...? He even admitted it was "sorta fun" to make.

Remembrance Day Poetry

In Flanders Field is the classic poem of today, and when I teach war literature, that and Dulce et Decorum Est feature prominently in the curriculum.

Today however, I have two other poems. 

Written by Grace, in lieu of an essay for school... 

And written by Anna....

These are their drafts. Anna has finessed hers and is reading it at the school assembly today. Grace is working on hers, though is participating in her school ceremonies by playing the national anthem on her saxophone.

And me...I teach all day, but will be taking my police foundations students outside at 11 for a few minutes of Remembrance. 

My weird family (but I love them anyhow)

Erik, 14, is the voice of reason. Overly much at times, but he does have a wicked sense of humour. Tonight he was enjoying a joke about H2O, H2O too (versus H2O2) and murderous scientists which was a little obtuse for most of his listeners, but that didn't stop him from explaining the details.

And that makes him the most normal of them all tonight.

His youngest sister, my sweet Gracie, 11, dressed as a bear, was explaining that she's been conducting a series of experiments on her friends and family regarding pupil dilation. Without their knowledge. She shrugged off with a very Gallic wave of her hand any ethical considerations of not informing them, stating that if people know you are experimenting on them, they are less willing, and results may be skewed. 

I worry about her.

Anna 13 was busy being torn...as teen girls are wont to be...between dramatic flair and most ernest concern. One minute she is recounting the needle she had today and how it hurt, and how she is never, EVER, EVAHHHH getting a vaccination again (insert heartfelt eye roll here), and the next, she is harnessing her inner middle age, all indignant about the state of education and how she feels she is being short changed and under challenged in school.

13 is about extremes, after all.

And then there is Andrew. I wasn't going to mention him, but then, post bath, I am shelving bath bubbles and lotion, and in among them on the top shelf is a syringe of topical medicine for cattle that clearly states, "For veterinary use only" and which, just as clearly, my husband has been using to self-medicate. Who knows why. 

I am not even going to try to understand that one.

Autumn Glory

I know, I know, I wax on and on about fall. Always have. Likely always will. It's by far my favourite season, and this particular weekend has been incredible. I considered joining Andrew and the two older kids who headed up into the Laurentians camping with the Venturers, but have a document to edit and papers to grade, so in the end stayed home with my youngest (currently looking long and lanky and making cupcakes while I edit).

And what a weekend.

First, it's been gorgeous. Summer weather, but not so sticky. And no bugs. The veranda was my office and I sat grading papers in dappled sunlight. The house is surrounded by colour. Out of every window, there is brilliance and wonder.

Second, it's been peaceful. A friend and her daughter came over last night and we sat outside under clear stars with candles and wine and black bean dip and cake and talked until late. The girls serenaded us with their saxophones for a while, the sound carrying through the open windows. So nice, and I have to remember to make more time for evenings like that.

Third, it's been productive. Rounded up some recalcitrant sheep with the help of a likeable young shepherd and his crook. Edited a government document. Got through the bulk of 65 papers. And did four loads of laundry, all of which got hung out to dry. 

Fourth, it's been tasty. My friend, Jeanne, brought yummy dip, I got to make fresh salsa. The girls shared some of their chocolate. And I tried a new wine. Cupcakes are now in the oven, and tonight I have a fresh pork tenderloin which I plan to stuff with spinach and walnuts so it's ready when we get home from swimming. (I exercise primarily in order to enjoy food guilt-free...makes sense to me.)

Finally, it's been lovely to just spend some time with my fast-growing, more and more independent, curious and witty 11 year old. Precious moments before she's all grown up.

Perfect September

It's no secret that I love September. After the long hot summer (not that we had one of those this year) cooler days are a respite. The leaves are turning, and the gardens have their last bloom of colour, graceful even as the foliage fades.

There are metaphors here, but I am ignoring them. It's simplicity I want today: cutting back withering perennials, dividing some ancient daffodil bulbs, pruning shrubs. Small focused tasks that restore order and rejuvenate the gardens. 

Rejuvenating myself too. I taught all week...the busy, content-heavy first week is always exhausting for faculty and students alike...despite the remnants of a lagging cold and losing my voice, and though I am on the mend, I am fatigued. 

Today, I am home, taking advantage of having no Friday classes this semester. Normally, I would be at my desk organizing for Monday, marking papers, and I will still have to do that over the weekend.

But not today. Today, spending time here in the gardens, in these cooler temperatures, with the smell of the damp earth and the freshness of a fall wind, is just what I need.

But first....

Coffee. Outside. On the mossy, stone steps beside a patch of late-blooming Black-Eyed Susan. With Galadriel, my grey cat, visiting for a head scratch.

September: "Season of mists and yellow fruitfulness..." (Keats)

School is in!

It is that time of year again. The final sticky days of summer when mornings are still humid and the sun shines doen hot even as the first leaves start to turn colour around the edges; when coffee on the porch is swapped for a 6 am run, bowls of oatmeal, and packed lunches in bright containers on the counter; when hair is brushed, forms are signed, and at least one child is sent rushing back inside for something forgotten.

Back to school time. In our house, it is a positive change. Summer is always fun, but we enjoy the transition back to routine and order. Even if it is a bit rushed at first as we get back into the swing of things, the year once again has boundaries, structure.

It's easier now everyone is older. They make their own lunches (Halle-freaking-lujah) and clear away their own breakfast dishes. No longer do I need my "Get up and go" playlist that for years got everyone out the door on time. Now the music is as varied as the kids who choose it, and might even include a live saxophone rendition of Crazy Train. 

Yes, that time of year again. Welcome back.

View of the Glen