I forgot to share a bad, or potentially bad, moment yesterday. Not in the dangerously bad way, more like the hilariously bad way.
We were comparing and contrasting the four different types of volcanoes (cinder cone, shield, composite, and fissure). Students were given a description of the structure and formation of each type, and asked to draw a schematic diagram of one. For most of them, I circulated the room and found an exemplar drawing, asked the student to show it to the class on the doc cam (like an overhead projector?), and then asked the class how it fit (or didn't fit) the description of the type of volcano.
For the last type of volcano, because I want the students to think I am interested in their choices and opinions (I am, but also have to keep the class moving), I asked for a volunteer to show their picture, rather than cold calling a student. A usually-not-so-enthusiastic student raised her hand, so I gave her a chance to shine. She brought her picture up to show the class...and you can probably guess where this is going. Unknowing to her, her volcano resembled...um...something that I'd rather not show a class of twelve-year olds. Unless I had their parents' permission and it was part of an anatomy unit. Fortunately, only a couple of students snickered, and I tried not to look horrified, and the event passed largely unnoticed.
Today there was a great teacher moment, the kind that involves a chorus of student "Oh!"s of understanding. The students had read a historical account of the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius (Did you know the warning signs of the eruption were largely unnoticed because the citizens of Pompeii experienced earthquakes quite frequently, and thought the large plume of smoke was the gods expressing their anger regarding a recent war). They were asked to apply their scientific knowledge of the volcanic process to the history of the Vesuvius eruption, and write a scientific-historical account of the event. They were told to be as creative as they wanted (within the time limit).
One student wanted to invoke the Roman gods of the era, so he asked me to ask a classmate (who was an expert on Roman mythology - yeah, my 7th graders are awesome) who the Roman god of fire was. The student thinks for a moment, and says, "I think it is Vulcan." Here's where I step in: "And what do you think was named after Vulcan?" I saw the cogs turning: "Vulcan...volcanoes!" And they all went "Oh!" and history was connected with science and it was good.
No comments:
Post a Comment